by Jan Drexler
Then Millie pointed toward the cornfield and Katie started walking toward him, waving when she saw him watching her.
Panic set in. Even though the day was cool, he had been sweating and he could feel a film of mud covering his face. Chaff from the cornstalks covered his clothes, and he was tired. He didn’t want Katie to see him this way, but here she came, striding along the lane between the fields.
“I see you’re working hard,” Katie said when she got close. “Papa is shocking his corn too.”
Levi tried to wipe his face with his hand, but one look at his palm told him he hadn’t helped his appearance at all. “It’s a fine day for the harvest.”
Katie held out an envelope. “Jonas has written letters, and one is for you.”
Levi took the letter from her. The handwriting was Jonas’s, for sure, and it was postmarked from Mansfield. The rumors he had heard at the church meeting on Sunday had been true. A sudden thought crossed his mind. “Did he go voluntarily? Or was he forced to go?”
Katie looked at the corn stubble at her feet. “He chose to take Samuel’s place. No one forced him, but he felt like he had to do this. He was afraid for his brother.”
Jonas in the army. Levi’s mind went through the consequences he would face on his return, going against the Ordnung this way. Of course, since he wasn’t baptized yet, the results of his actions might not be too serious. But if something happened to him—
“Are you all right?” Katie’s words broke into his thoughts. “I wish he had told you what he was planning to do. Perhaps you could have changed his mind. You’re his best friend.”
Levi’s heart swelled a bit at that. Katie was right. They were best friends. “Ja, ja, ja. I am only worried about him, away from us and off in the world.”
“I must get home. Mama is expecting me to help with the string beans.”
He watched her walk back down the lane and out to the road. He swallowed. He would have asked her to stay longer, to talk about . . . what? She was concerned about Jonas, not him.
Looking at the remainder of the field, he guessed he had six or seven more shocks of corn to go. Then he looked at the letter. The corn could wait while he took a short rest. He found a grassy spot to sit on at the edge of the cornfield and slit open the letter.
Camp Mansfield, October 10, 1862
Dear Levi,
I hope the news of my joining the army hasn’t taken you by surprise. I hope you would have heard by now that I am part of a company of soldiers. So far, I am doing well and feeling good. We leave for Virginia tomorrow, to join the Army of the Potomac. I am ready to leave Ohio, but I don’t think I will ever be ready to go into the area of the bitterest fighting.
I am writing to remind you of your promise. Do you remember it? It seems like such a long time ago, but was it only last week that we sat together in Millersburg waiting to find out the results of the draft? You promised to look after Katie for me. It has torn my heart in two to leave her, even though I tried to hide that from her. I worry that she will become morose and her bright spirit quenched while I am away. She needs her friends by her side, and I am counting on you to be there.
Keep me in your prayers, and write often to tell me how things are at home.
Your friend,
Jonas
Company C,
261st Ohio Regiment
Levi let the letter drop to the ground. Jonas trusted him to watch over Katie, and he must live up to that trust, no matter how painful it would be.
OCTOBER 27
Jonas woke as the train pulled into the station at Harper’s Ferry and grabbed his gear. Captain Wentworth was the first one on the platform, shouting orders as the men jumped off the train steps and into formation in front of him. Once he was in place, Jonas looked around, trying to get his bearings.
He had read about Harper’s Ferry and the battles that had been fought there, including the skirmish with John Brown and his supporters back in 1859. The more recent battle, fought just six weeks before between the Army of the Potomac and General Lee’s Confederate forces, was all the newly formed regiment on the train had talked about. The Union had lost the battle but gained back ground at Antietam a week later, then recaptured Harper’s Ferry. Rumors about the battle at Antietam reported horrible losses for both sides in the battle, but most of the regiment had been jubilant at the news of the Union victories under General McClellan.
The train had pulled into the station at dawn, tendrils of fog from the river bottoms mingling with the smoke and steam from the engine. Jonas glanced at George Watson, standing next to him with his eyes closed.
“George,” Jonas said, nudging his elbow. “Don’t fall asleep. The captain hasn’t given orders yet and you’ll miss them.”
George yawned. “When are they going to let us sleep? That train was too noisy with all the talking.”
“You just have to ignore it and sleep when you can. Forget about the noise.”
At the order of “Attention!” called out by a corporal, Jonas snapped his head to the front and straightened his shoulders.
“Men, we will be starting our march south to join the Army of the Potomac at noon.” Captain Wentworth paced back and forth in front of the rows of men. “We will make camp in the churchyard, yonder. Sleep while you can. After I dismiss you, the corporal will conduct mail call.”
After dismissal, George turned to Jonas. “Let’s stake out our campsite before the others get there.”
“What about the mail?”
“I don’t expect to get any. Do you?”
Jonas wavered. He had sent letters to Katie and the family more than three weeks ago but had not received any replies. “I’m due to get a letter or two. I’ll stay for mail call and pick up yours if there is any.”
George yawned again. “Look for me on the high ground of the churchyard. No swampy bedrolls this morning.”
As George disappeared into the mist, Jonas joined the crowd around Corporal Miller. The corporal had the difficult task of handling mail call. The men were overjoyed when they received letters and morose when they didn’t. Jonas had heard some threaten the poor man when their names weren’t called. But Miller was efficient and called the names quickly and clearly. Jonas was glad he stayed. George received a letter, and Jonas had three. He stuffed them into his shirt front and went to find his friend.
The high ground George had claimed turned out to be against a vault in the graveyard, in a spot overlooking the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers. George was sound asleep, so Jonas tucked his friend’s letter inside his coat and settled in next to him.
One of the blankets was permeated with rubber, and this one Jonas folded so that it covered him both above and below his wool blanket. Tucked in this way, he expected he would be warm enough as well as protected from the damp. Before turning over to succumb to his weariness though, he looked at his letters in the growing morning light. The first was in Datt’s handwriting and the second was in Ruby’s sharp script. When he saw that the third was from Katie, he couldn’t wait until later to read it. Stuffing the other letters back in his shirt front, he pulled the blanket up over his shoulder and opened the letter.
October 13, 1862
My dear Jonas,
I was pleased to get your letter and hear that you were safe.
Things at home have not changed much, since you left only a few days ago.
Papa and the boys are still working to get all the corn in. The bottom field took an extra week to dry. Mama and I have the last of the garden produce to harvest. We haven’t had a frost yet, so the beans are giving us another crop.
At church yesterday, a few folks wondered where you were. I think your father told the ministers what had happened, but the rest of the people had to be content with rumors. I didn’t say anything. Your parting is much too recent to speak of it to others.
But I had determined that this letter was going to be filled with happy news!
Rosie Schrock and her new husband vi
sited church yesterday. It seems funny to think of her as Rosie Schrock rather than Keck. It makes me wonder if I will have trouble getting used to being called Katie Weaver. Her husband didn’t look happy after the service. Rosie told me he thinks our church is old-fashioned and should make changes. It isn’t his church though, is it? Rosie said they have a large meetinghouse in Oak Grove, but she misses her friends from Weaver’s Creek. She also said they are living with his parents in an addition that the folks built onto their house. After talking with her, I am so glad that we will have our own house when we are married.
Elizabeth and Ruby are going to come over next week to help me piece our quilt top. They are such good company. They were the ones who brought your letter to me today, along with the one for Levi. I will take it to him on Thursday, if the weather is fine.
Keep yourself safe, and know that I will always love you,
Your Katie
Jonas read through the letter twice before folding it back into its envelope and tucking it inside his shirt with the others. The sun had risen above the eastern mountains and the fog was burning off as he closed his eyes. If he was lucky, he might get a few hours’ sleep before they were rousted awake for the march to join the great army somewhere south and east of them.
13
OCTOBER 30
Katie sat at the kitchen table long after dinner was cleared, her fabric squares in piles while she tried to arrange the complex quilt pattern she had chosen. After drawing the pattern out on a piece of paper, Katie counted the number of squares she needed of each color. But none of the amounts she needed matched the number of squares she had. She needed to find more fabric scraps.
Who would have scraps they would be willing to part with? Millie would, if she had any, but the walk to her house would take too long and Katie wouldn’t be home before dark. She thought of Elizabeth and Ruby, but there wasn’t any place to store an unnecessary item like fabric scraps in Elizabeth’s little cabin. Then she thought of the Weavers’ big farmhouse. Lydia would have plenty to share with her.
With that thought came the sudden urge to see Jonas’s mother. No letters had arrived from Jonas since the first one came more than two weeks ago and waiting for news from him filled her with worry. Had he gotten ill? Was he wounded? Perhaps Lydia and Abraham had received a letter. Katie started stacking the fabric squares back in her box. Now she had two reasons to visit Lydia.
“Are you still working on that quilt?” Mama lumbered into the kitchen, moving slowly. She had complained of not feeling well again today. She often felt like this during the cooler weather of autumn. In the winter, Mama suffered enough on some days to stay confined to her bed.
“I’m just putting it away for now. I need more fabric, and I thought I’d run over to Lydia’s to see if she had some scraps I could use.”
Mama sat in her chair and pulled the paper pattern toward herself. “This is what you’re making? It’s a bit fancy.”
Katie tried not to let it show, but the biting tone in Mama’s voice wrenched her heart. Again. She dreaded the coming fall rains and winter snows when she and Mama would be alone in the house together all day. Once she had her quilt top ready to put in the big quilting frame, then Elizabeth and Ruby could come over for an afternoon sometimes, and that would help relieve the tedium. But every autumn Mama acted like this, making Katie long for spring.
“I want to make this quilt special, since it’s for my wedding.”
“Don’t take up too much of Lydia’s time, and be back in time for supper.”
“Ja, ja, ja,” Katie said. She picked up the box to take up to her bedroom and glanced at Mama. Her expression was sad, as if she was lonely. “Mama, do you want to come with me? We can visit with Lydia together. We’ll take a loaf of the bread you made this morning.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere.” Mama leaned on the table, rubbing her forehead.
“Do you feel all right?”
“Ja, for sure. I feel fine. I think I’ll take a nap while you’re gone.”
But when Katie came back downstairs, Mama still sat at the kitchen table.
“Do you want me to make a cup of tea for you? Or some coffee?”
Mama shook her head, her mouth set in a bitter line. “I’m fine. I told you that. Now go on to the Weavers’.”
Katie took her shawl from the hook and settled it around her shoulders. Mama hadn’t moved. She put her bonnet over her kapp and lifted the door latch. Mama ignored her. She slipped out the door and started down the lane to the road.
The ache in her heart only grew stronger when she reached the half-built house. Since Jonas had gone, she was the only one who came here, and the place was already looking neglected. She stopped to pull some weeds away from the foundation near the front door. Or where the front door would be. She looked through the empty doorframe that led nowhere. Jonas had propped the two walls up with the beams he would later use for the roof, but until then the house looked more like it was falling down instead of being built into a place where they could live and raise their family.
She took the trail Jonas had worn between their house and the Weavers’ farm. Smoke poured from the chimney of the house, and the sight cheered her. When she knocked on the door, Lydia opened it immediately, as if she had seen her coming.
“I’m so glad to see you, dear Katie.” Lydia helped her take off her shawl and hung it on a hook by the door. “I am making cookies from a recipe my sister sent me, and I need someone to taste them to let me know if they’re any good.”
Lydia winked at her and Katie laughed. The Weaver kitchen was bright and warm, with the fragrance of spices and warm cookies.
“I’d love to try one,” she said. “What can I do to help?”
“That baking sheet is ready for more cookies. If you could drop some of the cookie dough on it, then it can go in the oven as soon as these are done.” Lydia opened the oven to check the baking cookies, then closed it again. “A couple more minutes should do it.”
By the time the second sheet of cookies was done baking, Lydia had hot tea made and they sat at the table.
Lydia picked up one of the cookies and inspected it. “Naomi said these were her family’s favorite, so I thought I’d try them. They’re made with molasses and ginger, plus an ingredient that might be a surprise.” She took a small bite while Katie broke hers in half. “What do you think?”
“They smell wonderful.” Katie ate one half slowly, making the flavor last. “They taste a little bit like the Pfeffernusse cookies Mama makes but different.”
“You’re right. Pfeffernusse cookies have more spices than just ginger. These are more like gingerbread.”
“What else is in them? They almost taste like pumpkin pie.”
Lydia nodded. “That’s what Naomi calls them. Pumpkin pie cookies. I had never thought of putting pumpkin in a cookie.”
“Does Naomi live around here?”
“She’s in Illinois, near Arthur. A large Amish settlement is there, and that’s where her husband lived when they met.” Lydia brushed cookie crumbs from her fingers. “He came from Germany about the same time your parents did, and the crossing was just as hard for him as it had been for them.”
“Mama doesn’t talk about their trip across the ocean.” Katie finished her cookie and pulled her cup of tea closer. “Do you know what it was like?”
“You should ask your mother. I don’t intend to be a gossip.”
“Mama doesn’t talk to me, not like you do. If I asked her about it, she would just tell me to feed the chickens or something. Especially today. For some reason, she always gets sad this time of year.”
Lydia watched her for a long minute. “Your mother has never spoken to you about their trip?”
Katie shook her head. “No one mentions it, or their lives in Germany before they came.”
“I’ll tell you, but only because it will help you understand your parents better.” Lydia sipped her tea, then set the cup down. “The crossing was difficult. It w
as late in the year and many storms made the crossing take longer than they expected. The ship had also been delayed in England for some reason, so they didn’t leave Europe until September was nearly over. The conditions on the ship were terrible, according to what your mother told me when they first got here. They were crowded into the hold, and many people were ill. Your brother and a baby sister both died on the voyage, nearly on the same day. They were buried at sea, and I don’t think she has ever gotten over it. This is about the time of year that they would have died.”
Katie sat back in her chair. “I had another brother and sister? Mama has never mentioned them to me.”
“It’s a very painful memory for her. I think she has tried to put the past behind her. I heard her say several times that a new country was a new start, and she meant it.”
“Mama seems to be happy here, except in the fall.”
“When you came along, you were a complete surprise to everyone.” Lydia rested her chin in her hand and smiled at Katie. “You were such a beautiful baby, and I’ve seen a lot of babies.”
Katie took another cookie. “But I don’t think I’ve made her very happy. I’ve always felt like, well, like I was in the way.”
“I think your mother was afraid to love you. That happens sometimes when we’ve loved so deeply and then lost the person we’ve loved. It’s hard to open our hearts to another.” Lydia sighed, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “You were a beautiful baby, but also very fragile. You were often sick during your first two years, and we all thought you might not live to see your third birthday.”
She shook her head a little and went to the stove to put more wood on the fire. When she came back to the table, she smiled at Katie again. “Don’t be afraid to love your mother just because she might be afraid to love you. You’re her daughter, but you can also be her friend.”
Katie finished her cookie, thinking about Mama. For years she had wished Mama could be more like Lydia or some of the other women in the church. She would love to be able to talk with Mama the way Millie talked with her mother or the way Ruby and Elizabeth did when they dropped in to see Lydia.