Shortly after we’d arrived, I’d learned that Sister Ursula wouldn’t return for at least another year. She’d had a baby a year and a half ago and, like all new mothers in the colonies, was allowed to remain at home with the child for three years. Since there were junior girls who helped after school hours, I doubted my occasional absences would have any impact upon the fine meals served in Sister Erma’s Küche.
Sister Erma shrugged her shoulders. “You can stay if you’d like, Sister Greta, but I’m not sure what you’re going to do.” On Sunday afternoons, Sister Erma rested in the upstairs parlor and read her Bible. “I suppose you can join me upstairs.” When Sister Greta made no move to follow the older woman, Sister Erma stopped and turned. “Unless you want to remain in the kitchen so that you will see Brother Dirk.”
A tinge of pink colored Greta’s cheeks as she rushed across the room. “If you are sure you do not need my help, then I will go home.” She yanked open the door and disappeared without another word.
Sister Erma raised her brows and shrugged. “I am going upstairs. You and Lukas have a gut time fishing.”
I sent Lukas outside to watch for Brother Dirk. While I sat at the table and waited, I wondered if working alongside Sister Greta in the future would prove uncomfortable. If we were going to work in harmony, I needed to find some way to ease the discomfort. Perhaps I could discover whether Brother Dirk had any feelings for Greta. Who could say—maybe he’d never considered her as a possible mate.
As I continued to give the matter some thought, I became pleased with the idea of arranging a match between them. If Brother Dirk wanted a wife and Greta wanted a husband, what could be better? I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes, savoring the idea of Greta showering me with her thanks.
“Mama!” Lukas ran inside and tugged at my hand. “I’ve been calling you.”
I’d sent Lukas outside to watch for Brother Dirk and had become so engrossed in my imaginary matchmaking, I hadn’t heard him. “I’m coming.” I jumped up and followed him outside.
Brother Dirk stood on the porch holding fishing poles in one hand and a pail in the other. He handed the pail to Lukas. “You can carry this and I’ll carry the poles.”
Lukas peered inside the bucket and removed a tin can as we headed off toward the pond. “How come you brought this empty can?”
“The first thing we need to do is find some worms. I didn’t have time to dig for them this morning before going to meeting. Once we locate some, you can put them in the can for safekeeping.”
“I’m not afraid to pick up worms, are you, Mama?” Lukas marched between us, his thin body rippling with excitement. “How far is it to the pond, Brother Dirk? Do you think we’ll catch lots of fish? Will we take them back to the house and cook them?”
Brother Dirk laughed as he shifted the fishing poles to his other hand. “You have asked so many questions, I am not sure which ones we should answer.”
Lukas skipped a short distance ahead of us and then turned around. His eyes sparkled with anticipation. “You should answer all of them.”
Brother Dirk glanced at me. “I suppose I will go first. We will be at the pond in about ten more minutes. I’m not sure how many fish we will catch. It will depend on how hungry they are and if they like the worms we offer them.” His brows dropped low on his forehead and he hesitated a moment. “What was the other question for me?”
“Will we take our fish back to the house and cook them?”
“You have a gut memory, Lukas.” Brother Dirk grinned. “If we catch the fish, I think we will toss them back in the water to live another day. To feed all the people who eat in our Küche, we would need many more fish than we can catch this afternoon.”
“Maybe not. Mrs. Adler read me a story from the Bible about how Jesus told the fishermen where to put their nets and they caught more fish than ever before. Do you think if we asked Jesus to help us, we could do that?”
Brother Dirk nodded. “Maybe. The Bible does say that with God all things are possible. Of course, He expects us to do our part, too, so you need to begin digging for worms.”
My son’s remarks surprised me. He’d never told me that Louise read him Bible stories, but it did make sense. Louise wasn’t one to hide her faith under a bushel basket. Since Lukas hadn’t been hearing much about the Lord from anyone else, she’d apparently decided she would teach him. During my time in Baltimore, I’d admired Louise’s commitment to the Lord. Even though my own faith had diminished, I’d been impressed by Louise’s dedication and faithfulness.
A soft breeze whispered through the sandbar willows and a stand of cottonwoods growing near the pond’s edge. With each gust of wind, the cottonwood branches bent low and dipped their coarsely toothed leaves into the shallow water. Nesting birds twittered overhead as if to protest our noisy arrival.
Brother Dirk spread a blanket beneath a tree close to the water. “I didn’t think you would want to help us dig for worms, but you can watch us from here.”
Lukas had already removed a garden trowel from the bucket and set to work. I smiled as Brother Dirk suggested moving to a damper area of ground and looking beneath some stones.
Moments later, Lukas squealed with delight and lifted a fat worm high in the air. “Look at this one, Mama! He’s going to catch us a big fish for sure.”
“I believe you’re right, Lukas. Maybe you should ask Brother Dirk to put the worm on your hook and into the water right away.”
“Nein.” Brother Dirk shook his head and laughed. “Lukas is going to learn how to put the worm on himself.”
He stooped down beside Lukas, and I watched the two of them with their heads close together, Lukas giggling as he attempted to gain control of the wiggling worm.
Once they’d thrown their lines into the water, Brother Dirk strode back toward where I was sitting. “Would you like to move closer to the water to be near enough to see when Lukas catches a fish?”
“Yes, thank you.” I wasn’t quite so sure there would be any fish caught, but I didn’t want to take a chance.
An unexpected shiver raced up my arm when Brother Dirk grasped my hand and helped me to my feet. Our gazes locked, but I forced myself to look away as a gentle rush of warmth spread through my body. What was happening to me? I pulled my hand from his grip and hurried toward the water as though I’d been hit by a round of buckshot.
I had intended to make a match between Brother Dirk and Greta. Now I wasn’t certain I wanted to see them together. Confusion gripped me as I stared at my rippling reflection in the pond. Greta was right. I needed to be careful or I would cause others to suffer—and if I didn’t exercise caution, my son and I might very well be included among those who would be hurt.
Chapter 8
Throughout the night I wrestled with the unexpected feelings I’d experienced with Dirk during the day. The laughter we’d shared when Lukas caught a fish, a look we’d exchanged over a cup of water, the warmth of his smile as we’d enjoyed bread and cheese. All of these things had stirred emotions that I’d long since thought dead. I didn’t want emotions to rule my future. That’s what I’d done with Fred. Too late, I’d learned that making decisions based upon emotions could prove unreliable. Choices needed thought. And prayer.
Surprised by the notion that I should think about praying, I sat up in bed. Why had I been struck by the idea that I needed to pray about my choices? Almost as quickly as I wondered why I’d had the thought, I remembered the many people who had expressed the need for prayer before making choices—beginning with my mother. When I’d been determined to marry Fred, one of her first questions was, “Have you been seeking God’s will to know if Fred is the man you should marry?” And when we prepared to depart for Baltimore, she’d asked, “Have the two of you prayed about where you should live? Do you truly believe God is leading you to Baltimore?”
Though neither of us had given the matter any prayer, we’d both nodded our heads. The result of that choice hadn’t been good—for either of us.
Since then, Mrs. Adler had professed her need to pray before making decisions. So had Sister Erma and Dirk. Maybe that’s why I felt this quickening in my spirit. Or maybe this urge to seek Him actually came from God. The thought daunted me. Could such a thing happen to someone like me? Someone who had never before thought to pray before making choices? I wasn’t sure, but I closed my eyes and asked God to direct my path.
“Please show me what I should do about Sister Greta. How to make things better between us. I don’t know what to ask about Brother Dirk, but I’m uncertain about my future. I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to hurt my son, either. Show me what I should do, and I’ll do my very best. Amen.”
It wasn’t a prayer full of beautiful words; it wasn’t even a prayer that expressed all the turmoil running through my mind. But Mrs. Adler had said that God knew our every thought. If so, He was aware that I needed help. He understood I didn’t want to hurt the people who had extended charity when I’d had nowhere else to turn.
I inhaled a deep breath and leaned against my pillow. Come morning, I hoped my prayer would result in clear direction, for I didn’t want any further tension between Sister Greta and me.
When the early-morning bell tolled a few hours later, I forced myself out of bed. I doubted I’d slept for more than an hour, but working in the kitchen meant rising early. There were some kitchen houses where workers came early to start the fires and begin breakfast preparations, but Sister Erma would have none of that. She liked the predawn ritual of starting the fires, grinding the coffee beans, and fetching the water.
Since my arrival, pumping water had become my chore. Though I didn’t mind the task on these early spring mornings, with the onset of winter, my enthusiasm would no doubt diminish. The thought gave me pause. Would I be here come winter?
The aroma of fresh coffee was already drifting through the kitchen when Sister Greta arrived. “Guten Morgen.” Her lips curved in a cheery smile. “Is going to be another beautiful morning, ja?”
I nodded my head, surprised by Greta’s bright smile and friendly greeting. “I think you’re right.”
The darkened sky hadn’t completely given over to a new day, so only a narrow slice of reddish-yellow sunlight shimmered on the eastern horizon. Yet it was enough to announce another spectacular day. A day that would be quite similar to the one Lukas and I had enjoyed with Dirk.
I cautiously eyed Sister Greta, wondering what to expect. Her cheerful attitude had caught me by surprise, and now I waited, pleased yet suspicious of her friendly behavior. While I pared the potatoes that Sister Erma would fry for breakfast, Sister Greta donned her apron and set to work slicing several loaves of bread that had been delivered by the bakery wagon only minutes before she’d arrived.
“So how did Lukas enjoy fishing yesterday?” Instead of looking up, she continued to methodically slice the bread.
“He was a little disappointed with his catch, but he had a good time.”
She stopped slicing the bread. “He did not catch any fish?”
“Oh yes. He caught three, but he said a prayer before he began fishing and then expected the Lord to provide enough fish to feed the entire village.”
Sister Greta laughed—not a mere chuckle, but a genuine laugh. “He should be thanking God for those three fish. I must remember to tell him that most people consider themselves blessed if they catch even one fish. Some of the boys say there are no fish left in that pond.”
“There are at least three, since Lukas and Brother Dirk threw all of them back.” Being careful not to cut myself, I sliced the potatoes into thin pieces that would cook rapidly in the hot grease. “Even though he was disappointed in the number of fish they caught, Lukas had a good time.”
“And you? Did you have a gut time, too?”
I didn’t want to lie, but I feared that being truthful might spoil the tentative camaraderie we’d now established. And then I felt that same nudge I’d received last night—the one that had caused me to pray. Only this time, it prodded me to tell the truth.
After exhaling a slow breath, I nodded. “Yes, I had a very nice time. Thank you for asking.”
We were standing side by side at the worktable where no one else could overhear our conversation, so I decided it was time to clear the muddy waters between us. I’d need to choose my words wisely. Yesterday I could have easily told her I had no feelings for Dirk—today, that answer wouldn’t be completely truthful. At the moment, I wasn’t sure what I thought about Brother Dirk or my future in the colonies, but I needed to know if Sister Greta hoped to win his heart.
“Are you hopeful that you and Brother Dirk will one day have a future together as husband and wife?” My voice faltered as I asked.
“As husband and wife?” She shook her head. “Nein. Is that what you thought when I said you should be careful?”
“Wasn’t it?” I arched my brows and met her intense stare.
“Nein. I have no interest in marrying Brother Dirk, although my Vater would be pleased if that happened. He has always thought we should marry, but I have feelings for another man.” She retrieved platters for the bread and then returned to my side. “My feelings for Brother Dirk are those of an abiding friendship. He is more like an older brother to me, so I would not like to see him hurt. That is why I said you should be careful.”
“I see.” The tension in my shoulders eased. “Does your young man live here in West?”
She nodded. “Ja. His name is Benjamin Lutz. He works at the flour mill. He lives in another part of the village, so he doesn’t eat at our Küche. We have been friends since we were in Kinderschule, and our affection for each other has increased through the years, but my Vater is not very fond of Benjamin.”
“Why is that?”
“My Vater says Benjamin still acts too much like a child, but that is not true. Benjamin likes to laugh and have fun, but he works hard and he would be a gut husband for me.” A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “And we love each other very much.”
I smiled at her. “That’s the most important thing.”
“Ja, that’s what I told my Vater, but he says he does not think Benjamin will ever be serious enough to be a gut husband.”
Tears clouded her eyes and tugged at my heart. “We should pray that your father will see Benjamin as the fine young man you say he is.” Where had that idea come from? The words were out of my mouth before I’d even given them consideration.
“Danke, Sister Andrea. To know you would pray for me means a great deal.” She touched her hand to her heart. “I think if we both pray, maybe God will work a miracle for me, and my Vater will change his mind.”
I wasn’t so sure my prayers were worthy of a miracle, but perhaps God would answer Sister Greta’s petitions.
After stacking the slices of bread on heavy china platters, Sister Greta stepped to the other side of the table and began forming sausage patties. “Sister Erma told me your husband died before your return to Iowa, but she did not say how long you had been a widow.” Greta hesitated and glanced up, likely wanting to see if I found her comment painful or offensive. Still, she’d likely find it odd that a woman who hadn’t been widowed for even six months would find pleasure in fishing with another man.
“My husband died at sea, and I was notified shortly before I returned to Iowa, so I don’t know his actual date of death.”
She looked away. “I am sure it has been difficult for you and Lukas.”
I wasn’t certain how much I should tell her, but decided that she might better understand my circumstances if she knew about the past. While we continued to work, I told her a little of what had transpired between Fred and me—not the ugly details, for I didn’t think she needed to hear those—but the fact that our marriage had not been happy.
“So you do not feel the same grief many wives might feel at such a loss?”
I shook my head. “No, but I hope you will not think ill of me. I never wished for Fred to die, but in some ways his death has made life easier fo
r Lukas and me.”
“I cannot imagine what it would be like to fear being harmed by the man who has promised to love and protect you. And then you come home and discover your Vater has died. Such difficult times you have had.” She wrung her hands together. “I am pleased we talked. Now I think I better understand.”
Before I could ask Sister Greta exactly what she better understood, Sister Erma bustled into the kitchen and eyed the pile of potatoes. “Those potatoes will never be fried in time for breakfast if we don’t get them in the skillets.” Soon lard was sizzling in several large skillets. The grease crackled and popped as the older sister heaped potatoes into the pans. “Is gut you cut them thin, Sister Andrea.” The large metal lids settled with successive clangs as she placed them atop the skillets. After a quick glance at the worktable, she shook her head and pointed at the sausage patties. “Ach! The sausages are not cooked, either? What have you two been doing out here all this time? Even the applesauce is not in the bowls.”
I offered an apologetic smile. “It’s my fault, Sister Erma. We were talking and lost track of the time.”
“I am glad you two are becoming friends, but our work comes first.” She pointed to the empty bowls. “Hurry and get those filled, Sister Andrea. And Sister Greta, you need to fry the sausages.”
We bobbed our heads in unison and scurried to complete our tasks before the breakfast bell rang. My heart soared at the thought of having a friend. Sister Erma had extended every kindness to me and to Lukas, but Sister Greta was closer to my own age. Asking her questions wouldn’t be as difficult.
“Guess what, Mama!” Lukas rushed into the kitchen that afternoon. I stooped down and pulled him into my arms for a hug. He wriggled backward and looked into my eyes. “You need to guess. It’s something exciting.”
I remained in my crouched position. “Let me see—something exciting. You got to pet one of the horses.”
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