A Shining Light

by Judith Miller

  “I’m going to go and speak to the doctor about your care, and then I’m going to go back to the kitchen house where Lukas and I are living. I work all day, so I won’t be back until after prayer service tomorrow evening.”

  Sister Erma would doubtless give me permission to leave the Küche and visit with Fred after we cleaned up after meals, but I wouldn’t ask. I would need every free minute to seek advice from Brother Bosch, Dr. Karr, Dirk, and Sister Erma. Visiting Fred tomorrow evening would be soon enough. In fact, it would be far too soon.

  “Here ya are with yer husband who’s been brought back from the dead, and all ya want to do is run off. You and that Dirk fella got somethin’ going on?”

  “You were never dead!”

  “Maybe not, but ya thought I was, so it’s the same thing.”

  “It is not the same thing.” I gritted my teeth and pushed up from the chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  “A kiss for yer husband?”

  I shook my head and spoke with more strength than I felt. “No, Fred, there will be no kiss. Things have to be different here. I have to see you’ve changed. Good night.” I hurried back to the parlor and calmed my ragged breathing before I tapped on the door leading to Dr. Karr’s rooms.

  The door opened and Dr. Karr motioned me forward. “Come in, Sister Andrea. We should talk.”

  His wife sat across the room with her mending. “Sit down over here.” She patted the chair beside her.

  Once I’d settled, Dr. Karr leaned forward. “Did your husband tell you he contracted malaria while he was at sea?”

  I nodded. “Yes. How was it possible for him to travel across the country with all his problems?”

  The doctor shrugged. “Where there is a will, there is a way. He must have been eager for a reunion with you and his son. He said he was in better condition before his departure, but he has been unwilling to explain how he came by his injuries.”

  I sighed. Fred hadn’t been eager for a reunion with me—he’d had no place else to go. Like me, he’d expected to return to my family’s farm, and like me, his plans had gone awry.

  “In order to treat him, it will be best if he remains here until I can determine whether the Warburg’s tincture will once again control his malaria. He tells me he quit taking the medicine before he left Baltimore. He also suffers from a terrible infection in his side.” The doctor folded his hands together. “I cannot tell you what success I will have with his treatment. He is very sick, but I will do my best.”

  A huge dose of relief mixed with a small amount of guilt and fear washed over me. I shouldn’t be thankful my husband’s condition would prohibit him from coming near me, but I was grateful.

  “Thank you, Dr. Karr. Is there anything I should do to help with his care?” I silently prayed he would reject my offer.

  “Nein. My wife and I are accustomed to caring for those who need extra attention. You have your work at the Küche, and we have our work here.” His eyes shone with kindness.

  Only time would tell if Fred would heal—or if the doctor could withstand my husband’s offensive behavior. As for me, God had provided the time I needed to think and pray, and I intended to make good use of every minute.

  Fred Wilson

  I rested against my pillow and watched Andrea walk out of the doctor’s office. Durin’ our separation she’d changed—and not in a good way as far as I was concerned.

  Dealin’ with physical pain was one thing, but it looked like Andrea and Lukas were set on causin’ me a whole different kind of pain. Not the physical kind, of course, but the worrisome pain that comes when you lose control of people and circumstances. I didn’t like that idea, not one bit. Andrea and the boy would once again need to learn the lessons I’d already taught ’em. Lukas wouldn’t be too hard to manage, but with the protection of all these religious fanatics, Andrea might rebel when I tried to bring her down a notch or two. ’Course once I could get them out of this place, they’d both learn to toe the mark again. A well-placed slap could work wonders.

  While in Martinique, I didn’t have to worry about forcin’ a woman to do my bidding. I closed my eyes and let images of my Caribbean beauty, Neyssa, dance through my mind. She hadn’t needed to be taught how to please a man. I’d met her the first time our ship sailed from Baltimore to Martinique, and she was a genuine wonder. On the voyage home, I’d thought about nothin’ but her. Neyssa had everythin’ I wanted in a woman. She was beautiful, happy, and willin’ to do my biddin’. When we set sail, she cried and said she’d be waitin’ for me to return—and she was.

  She’d picked up a list of arrivals from the shippin’ office, and when we docked in Martinique months later, she was waitin’ for me. That same bright smile and those same open arms that I’d lusted for ever since I’d left her. Those long days in the warm sun while we were in port were even better than I’d imagined. Neyssa’s charms lured me and it didn’t take long before she’d convinced me to remain in Martinique. But stayin’ behind caused a whole set of new problems.

  Over a few days and a lot of liquor, Neyssa, my shipmate John Calvert, and I developed an idea—a plan that was foolproof as long as John did his part. I never was sure if he decided to help because of our friendship or due to his drunken stupor, but it wasn’t important. Once he agreed, I refused to let him go back on his word.

  The two of us boarded the ship at dusk and signed in, but findin’ a way to disembark after boardin’ the ship and signin’ the crew’s list wasn’t easy. If it wasn’t for some good luck and craftiness, I wouldn’t have made it back to Neyssa. Necessary repairs to a damaged dinghy provided the opportunity. Night fell and I lay hidden beneath a canvas as John and another buddy lowered the dinghy to the men waitin’ below. Lucky for me, they placed the dinghy alongside several others in dry dock. I remained in the dinghy until I was sure the men had gone.

  Under cover of darkness, I made my escape. I wasn’t far from Neyssa’s shack when my foot lodged beneath an aboveground tree root. As I dropped to the ground, my leg twisted and I heard an undeniable snap. A village healin’ man did his best to pull the leg back into alignment, but it didn’t work. The leg mended at an ungainly angle that rendered a permanent limp and left me in constant pain.

  Durin’ my convalescence, Neyssa was patient, but her open arms and sweet disposition didn’t last. Once I was able to get around, she revealed her true nature. I discovered it wasn’t me she liked so much as her own desire to leave the island and see other parts of the world—in particular, America. She’d heard sailors talk about the money that could be made in America, and she now wanted a new and better life. One where she believed she could find a rich husband who would buy her jewels and fancy dresses.

  At first, I thought she was jokin’ with me, but after weeks of her yammerin’, I knew she didn’t care about me. Did she really think I would take her to America so she could look for a rich husband? Stupid woman! I shoulda known better, but she’d tricked me with her feminine wiles. Yet I had the last laugh and tricked her in return. I had her fetch a list of arrivin’ ships and told her I’d return once I figured out how we could board a ship that was due in port the next day.

  Instead, I told the ship’s captain that I could handle the work same as any other hand. At first he wasn’t convinced, but I played on his sympathies and told ’im my injury had occurred at sea. That fact was enough to gain his pity and get me on the ship back to Baltimore and leave Neyssa to find herself some other sailor. Time would tell if she’d ever convince anyone to smuggle her aboard. I doubted she would, but I also doubted the wench would ever quit tryin’.

  In the end, she’d proved to be just like Andrea—unwillin’ to do my bidding.

  “How is the pain, Mr. Wilson? You are feeling some better?”

  I’d been lost in my thoughts and hadn’t heard the doctor enter the room. “A little, but I’d be happy to have a little more of that laudanum.”

  The doctor removed his pocket watch and shook his head. “It�
�s too early for more laudanum. You should try to sleep. Sleep is sometimes the best medicine.” He shifted his leather bag to his right hand. “I must leave for a time to call on some of my patients. My wife is not here. Is there anything you need before I depart?”

  “Naw, I can manage.”

  “Gut, then I will see you before too long.”

  I leaned back and once again let my thoughts wander. Strange for a man like me to be livin’ among these do-gooders. I didn’t like their religious zeal, but if it wasn’t for the doc, I’d prob’ly be dead. I didn’t like his questions. He’d done his best to find out about the gash in my side. I finally told him it was an accident, but nothin’ more.

  It had been an accident, but I could hardly tell the doc that after I’d attempted to commit a robbery and had killed a man back in Baltimore, I had the bad luck of trippin’ on a loose cobblestone and falling on my own knife. With my bad leg and that gaping wound causin’ me no end of pain, I still marveled that I was able to stay hidden until after all the commotion died down. Only then did I make my way to John Calvert’s room in one of the tenements along the docks. He went down to the wharf and found a sailor who said he could sew me up. The pain was terrible, but the stitchin’ was good enough to let me get out of Baltimore.

  When I left town, I considered John a friend I could count on, but only time would tell if he was a real friend—a man I could trust.

  Chapter 12

  Dirk

  Lukas grabbed my hand and held tight as we departed the doctor’s office. The boy needed somehow to make sense of what had just happened, but I wasn’t sure whether I could say anything that would help. There had been no opportunity to gain information from Andrea, but it was obvious Fred Wilson’s return had created fear rather than joy in this young boy.

  Sister Andrea had told me only little of her marriage to Fred—enough to reveal the years had been endured rather than enjoyed. But Lukas’s unmistakable fear of his father indicated an even darker side.

  We hadn’t gone far when he squeezed my hand and looked up at me. “Do you think my father will make us leave and go with him?” His voice trembled. “I don’t want to go. Can I live with you if he makes my mother move away?”

  I needed to be careful with my answers. I didn’t want him to think I would ever reject him, but I could not control his future. Only his mother and father could make those decisions.

  “Already you are worrying about things that may never happen. Until we know more about your Vater’s illness and why he has arrived, it does no gut to worry. There are more important ways to spend our time, ja? The Bible tells us we are to worry about nothing, but to make our requests known to God. This is what we must do.”

  Lukas didn’t appear convinced. “I’ll tell God, but if my father tries to make us move, will you let me live with you? Please?”

  My heart ached. He didn’t need to beg. I would be pleased beyond measure to have him live with me, to call him my son. But the choice was not mine to make. “This is my promise to you, Lukas. If your Mutter and Vater decide to leave the colonies, and if they agree to let you stay behind, I would be happy to have you live with me.”

  He released my hand and jumped up and down, clapping his hands together.

  “Lukas! You must remember that I said ‘if.’ If is a very little word, but it is the most important part of what I told you. Unless your parents agree, there is nothing I can do. You understand?”

  The boy remained undeterred. “I know you can make them agree. My Mutter will listen to what you say. She knows that you would take good care of me, and I would be safe with you.”

  His words were enough to tell me that Lukas had heard only what he wanted to hear: No matter what his parents decided, he planned to remain in the colonies. “It is true that I would do my best to give you gut care and for sure you would be safe with me, but your Mutter and Vater can do the same. Maybe they will not be here, but wherever they go, they will provide for you.”

  Now that I’d observed Lukas’s reaction to his father, I recalled some of the boy’s unusual behavior when he’d first arrived. Unlike most young children, Lukas had been fearful and wary when he initially visited the shop. He would flinch when Werner or I made a quick movement in the workshop, and he would jump aside when one of us moved past him. It had taken time to win the boy’s trust. Now I was beginning to understand the significance of his timid conduct, and the understanding angered me.

  How could a man, blessed with a gentle and lovely wife and a wonderful son, be anything but grateful? Did he not value the gifts God had bestowed upon him? If I didn’t tamp down the fire that ignited in my belly, I would explode. Everything in me wanted to march over to the doctor’s office and show Andrea’s husband what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such treatment. However, the last thing Lukas needed was another angry man in his life. I took a deep breath to calm myself. I must remain composed and behave in a normal manner.

  I pulled open the screen door and followed Lukas into the kitchen. The door banged behind us, and moments later Sister Erma appeared. “So finally you come home. I thought I would have to eat the leftover cake by myself.” She lifted the tin cover off the plate and then glanced toward the door. “Where is your Mutter, Lukas? Did you feed her to the fishes?” She chuckled at her joke, but neither of us laughed.

  I met her gaze. “She’s at Dr. Karr’s office.”

  The tin cover clattered atop the worktable. “Nein! What happened? She hurt herself at the pond? Has she taken ill?” She pinned me with a commanding stare. “Tell me!”

  “She isn’t hurt or ill. Her husband—Lukas’s father—has arrived, and he is the one who is both hurt and ill.”

  Her lips screwed into a tight knot and her brows dipped low. “That is not possible. Andrea told me he is dead.” She looked at the boy. “Your Vater, he is dead. Isn’t that right, Lukas?”

  Lukas started to bob his head, but then shook it instead. “He was dead. I mean, we thought he was dead, but now he’s alive and he’s at the doctor’s office.”

  His lips trembled and I frowned at Sister Erma and shook my head. “This has taken Lukas and Sister Andrea both by surprise. Lukas is distressed and hasn’t been able to sort it all out yet. None of us has. We can talk later.” I pointed to the cake. “I think a piece of cake and some milk would help right now.”

  Sister Erma took my hint and didn’t ask any further questions. Instead she busied herself cutting and serving the cake while silence hovered like a funeral pall. When I could bear it no longer, I cleared my throat. “The new wedding cake pan you ordered will be ready by the end of the week. Werner and Lukas have both helped me with it.” I patted Lukas on the shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “I got to cut a few strips of tin, but Brother Dirk did most of the work.”

  Sister Erma smiled. “Many hands make light work. If you had not done your part, it would have taken Brother Dirk longer to finish. I am pleased to know your hands helped to make the new pan. Wedding cakes are very special here. Did Brother Dirk tell you that?”

  Lukas nodded his head. “Brother Dirk said it takes lots of cake batter to fill the pan, and the star shape is special for weddings. Maybe someone will get married and I can see one of the cakes.”

  Sister Erma chuckled. “To see a wedding cake is gut, but to eat a piece is even better. One day you will get to try some, and since you live in the kitchen house, you will always know when we are preparing for a wedding.”

  “I might not be living in the Küche. I might go and live with Brother Dirk.”

  Sister Erma’s eyes opened wide, and her gaze traveled back and forth between Lukas and me. “What?”

  Lukas had finished his cake, and I moved the plate from in front of him. “I think you need to go upstairs and get to bed. You have school tomorrow. If you’re not in bed before your Mutter comes home, I’ll be in trouble.”

  “I’ll hurry, ’cause I don’t want you to get in any trouble.” He slid off th
e stool and bid us both good-night. Moments later, his shoes clattered on the stairs leading to the upstairs rooms.

  Sister Erma folded her hands across her chest. “Now tell me what is this nonsense about Lukas’s father. Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out, because I am confused.”

  I wanted to tell her she was no more confused than I, but that wasn’t true. Much as I hated to admit the man existed, I had seen Fred and I knew he was alive. “I wish I could tell you it is only nonsense, but it is true. While we were at the pond, Dr. Karr sent one of the boys to fetch Sister Andrea. We didn’t know why until we arrived at his office.”

  Sister Erma placed her palm across her mouth. “Ach! This is terrible.”

  “Ja, you are right. I saw her husband for only a moment to introduce myself. He looks very ill, but he also appeared angry.”

  “Illness and pain can sometimes cause people to behave in strange ways, but Sister Andrea has mentioned to me that her marriage was not happy. She once said her husband wasn’t gut to her and the boy. When I questioned her, she said she did not want to speak ill of the dead, so we ended our discussion.”

  Sister Erma’s comments were enough to confirm my greatest fears. This man would again make life unbearable for Andrea and Lukas. My muscles quivered at the thought that he might abuse them.

  Sister Erma gathered the plates and carried them to the sink and then put a kettle of water on the stove to boil. “What is this about Lukas living with you? Where did he get such an idea?”

  I recounted my earlier conversation with Lukas and then added, “The boy fears his father will force them to leave, so he was trying to plan the future for himself.”

  “Ja, but your idea is impossible. Sister Andrea would never leave her son, and I do not think the boy’s Vater would agree, either. You should not have made such a promise, Brother Dirk.” She walked to the stove, and using a thick towel to protect her hand, she lifted the kettle of hot water and carried it to the sink.