A Simple Change

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by Judith Miller


  “Well, I am thinking you will recover from your mishap, Sister Jancey.” The hint of a smile played on the older man’s lips. “I am pleased it was only a fall to the ground you suffered and not a fall from grace.”

  His final remark gave me hope. “So you will not report this to the elders?”

  “I think not. I do not believe you were at fault in this matter. Also, I cannot say that I believe everything Mr. Kingman has told me. Whether he truly thought you signaled him or whether he hoped to befriend you remains a mystery to me. Unless I learn something to change my mind, I will not speak to the elders and Mr. Kingman will remain at his position in the mill.” He stepped away from the tree. “I have warned him that he should not come around you, Sister Margaret, or any of the other sisters unless others are present. I explained this is for his protection as well as for the protection of the sisters. And now, I must return to work.”

  “If you have another moment, there was one other matter I wanted to mention to you, Brother William.”

  His shoulders slumped. “What is it, Sister Jancey?”

  A persistent fly buzzed near his face until he swatted it away. For a moment, I wondered if he’d like to swat me away, as well.

  “Earlier you mentioned I should not have contact with outsiders, so I wanted to remind you that Nathan Woodward is one of the outsiders working at the mill, and he is a friend of my family. He sometimes comes to our house to visit.”

  “Ja, your father has told me he is a family friend, and for him to visit with you is not against the rules. But you should avoid being alone with him when possible—the same as you would behave with any other man in the colonies. You should remember the rules of true godliness.” He arched his brows. “You have learned them?”

  “I haven’t memorized them completely, Brother William.”

  “Ja, well, you should do so. Rule number three tells how we are to conduct ourselves with outsiders. You have read it?”

  I nodded. “Yes, it says we should always conduct ourselves in such a manner so that outsiders have no reason to slander or shame the name of God.”

  “Ja, and what else?”

  “That it is better to avoid the company of outsiders who might destroy our interest in the Lord.”

  “You see? You do know most of it.” He patted his palm against his chest. “Now you must place it in your heart as well as your mind. Sometimes the head tells us one thing and the heart another. When both the heart and the mind are in agreement, it is a gut thing.” He straightened his shoulders and prepared to depart. “You should pray for God to direct your path, Sister Jancey. If you ask, He will show you in which world you belong, but you cannot have one foot in Amana and the other foot in the world.”

  I didn’t tell him I’d been doing exactly what he’d suggested. Unfortunately, God’s answers still didn’t arrive with the speed I desired.

  The ice and bandage had done their job, and by the time I’d finished my work for the day, I could walk with only a slight limp. I hadn’t gone far when I heard the clatter of running footsteps and turned.

  Brother William’s recent warning rang in my ears as Nathan ran toward me. He was panting for breath when he reached my side. “Didn’t you hear me call you?”

  “No, but I’ve told you over and over that you shouldn’t shout my name and come running after me like this. It isn’t proper, and I don’t want to get into any more trouble.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “More trouble? What’d you get in trouble for?” He grinned and tapped his finger on his chest. “I thought I was the only one who got in trouble around here.”

  I wanted to snatch back the words, but it was too late. “There was a misunderstanding while I was hanging clothes, but it’s been resolved.”

  “What’d you do, hang the sheets the wrong way?” He chuckled. “I bet there’s even a rule about how to hang the clothes, isn’t there?”

  I decided to give him only a meager answer and hope it would suffice. “Most women have a certain way they prefer to hang clothes.”

  “And I’m guessing Sister Margaret has been hanging clothes for enough years that she can spot a crooked clothespin from a mile away.”

  I smiled and let him believe he was right, although I felt like a traitor for not defending Margaret. We’d gone only a short distance when he stopped and looked at my foot.

  “Are you limping? What happened?”

  His eyes shone with concern, and I didn’t miss the alarm in his voice. He’d never shown much sympathy during my mother’s illness, so I was taken aback that a slight limp would elicit such compassion. I never knew which Nathan would appear—the one who wanted to make me happy or the one who wanted to control me—the one who was considerate or the one who was insensitive. Since his arrival, he’d been as changeable as a chameleon, but I liked some of these recent changes and hoped they would continue.

  “I twisted my ankle while I was hanging clothes. It’s much better. By tomorrow, I’ll be as good as new.”

  “Or it will be so swollen you won’t be able to walk at all.” He frowned. “I know you don’t want to hear me say this again, Jancey, but this is no life for you. I want to give you the kind of life you deserve. A life where someone else takes care of household chores and you can do charity work at the orphanage or spend your afternoons enjoying tea with lady friends.” He pointed to my sunbonnet. “Even wearing that hat doesn’t completely protect you. Your complexion is already showing signs of too much sun. Can’t you see this isn’t where we belong?”

  He’d been so kind and gentle, I didn’t want to tell him there was no “we.” Instead, I simply said he should feel no obligation to remain there. “I have prayed and asked the Lord to direct my future, and though I know what you want, I’m not sure where He is leading me. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you the answer you desire.”

  When he said he understood, I believed him—almost.

  After going to bed, thoughts of Ritt, Nathan, and Thomas jumped around in my mind like a group of children playing hopscotch. All three of them had snatched a piece of my heart, but each in a different way.

  Ritt’s caring and kind heart, his truthful nature, and his dedication to the Lord made me want to consider a future in Amana. How could I find fault with a man who prayed for my mother and offered quiet strength to my life? Yet I’d been disappointed when he’d revealed his feelings for me but then pulled away. I admired the fact that he’d been forthright and told me he would not leave the colonies. And I knew he was right: If I remained here, it should be through God’s leading, not due to the influence of others. In my heart, I had hoped he would woo me and tell me he couldn’t bear to have me leave Amana, but he knew my commitment must first be to God. He was truly an upright man. A man who would make any woman a fine husband.

  Rolling onto my side, I bunched the pillow beneath my head. I had to admit that Nathan had taken up a small corner of my heart, as well. Not because of his belief in God, for Nathan avowed he controlled his own path and didn’t need religion or the church—unless it would provide him with the desired social contacts. His lack of faith plagued me, but I did admire his determination to be successful in spite of his early life. And though I’d observed occasional good changes in him over the past weeks, I’d also noticed they never lasted for long. I worried Nathan told me what he believed I wanted to hear rather than telling me what he truly believed. Without God, I wasn’t sure Nathan could be the attentive, thoughtful, compassionate husband I desired.

  And then there was Thomas. He wasn’t a man who wanted to win my heart, but he’d stolen a small piece of it—not in any romantic way, but because of his desire to help his sister. Even though my association with Thomas had created all sorts of difficulties and recently raised some troubling questions, I still desired to help him if I could.

  After a night of fitful dreams, I awoke with one thought in mind: I was going to return the newspaper clipping to its proper place. Perhaps Nathan would never ask to see it again,
but if he did, I’d tell him the truth. Even though he’d told me to keep the clipping and leave everything to him, I no longer wanted the paper in my possession. I’d still depend upon him to investigate the bank robbery through his telegraph messages, but as soon as I found an opportunity, I was going to return the article to that bag hidden beneath the floorboards.

  I had completed my breakfast when Sister Bertha signaled to me from the kitchen. As soon as we’d recited the after-meal prayer, I wove my way through the departing sisters. They were going one direction while I went the opposite, and for a few moments, I felt like a fish swimming upstream. “You wanted to see me, Sister Bertha?”

  The plump woman swiped her hands on her apron and pointed to a basket. “I would like Sister Hanna to remain here so she can begin to make noodles for the noonday meal. You can take breakfast to your Mutter, ja?”

  “Yes, of course.” I grabbed the basket handles and departed out the kitchen door. I hoped Margaret wouldn’t think that my ankle was posing problems and I’d been required to remain abed. She’d likely be worried when I didn’t appear on time. Instead of turning toward home, I decided to stop at the dormitory and let her know before I headed for home.

  I circled around the Küche and down the path toward the men’s quarters. The other workers had departed before me, and the only sounds were birds twittering overhead. Soon the mill machinery would block out any birdsong, but for a few minutes more, I could enjoy the sweet music.

  “Psst. Jancey! Over here.”

  I stopped in my tracks and looked toward the trees. “Nathan? Is that you?” A prick of irritation rose in my chest. Nathan had once again needlessly broken the rules. What if someone saw us?

  He stepped from behind a tree. “Yes. I looked for you after breakfast, and when I didn’t see you on the path, I was worried.” He glanced down. “How is your leg? I thought it might be worse today.”

  “My ankle is fine. Surely you saw me in the Küche and could see I wasn’t having any trouble. I’m not even limping.”

  He frowned. “You tell me you want a man who is caring, but you become angry when I am worried about you. After listening to you lately, I realize I wasn’t a good suitor while we were in Kansas City, and I wanted to show you that I can be the kind of man you say you desire. I want to make you happy and provide you with the life you deserve. I’ve been doing everything possible to make that happen.”

  “Thank you, Nathan. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, but both of us will be in trouble—particularly me—if we’re seen alone out here. I need to stop by the dormitory before taking Mother her breakfast. I didn’t want Margaret to worry when I was late.” The warning bell rang in the distance. “If you don’t hurry, you’re going to be in trouble. Thank you for your concern, but please go on. I’ll wait a minute or two before I continue down the path, just in case someone should be watching.”

  I could see that my words didn’t completely appease him, but he departed. I waited by one of the tall pines for a couple minutes and then continued to the men’s quarters. Margaret was standing in the doorway looking toward the path as I approached. I waved to her and picked up my pace.

  “I’m sorry to be late.” I lifted the basket a little higher. “I had to pick up breakfast for my mother. Sister Hanna needs to remain in the Küche this morning, so I’ll need to go home for a short time. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

  Her lips curved in a generous smile. “I am glad you stopped by. Already I was worried your ankle was swollen and you would need to remain at home today.” She glanced at my foot. “Is gut you are doing so well. Go on and take your Mutter’s breakfast. I will be in the washhouse doing the ironing. It is cooler out there.”

  I wasn’t sure it would be cool anywhere, especially with the fire already stoked to heat the irons, but Sister Margaret’s news pleased me. If I hurried, I could deliver Mother’s breakfast, return to the dormitory, and put the news clipping back in place, all before Margaret completed the ironing.

  Thankful Mother hadn’t needed me to remain at home with her, I walked to work as fast as my ankle would permit. Unfortunately, the quick pace wasn’t wise. By the time I entered the dormitory, a dull ache had spread around my ankle and downward into the arch of my foot. I considered going directly to Thomas’s bed but decided first to check on Margaret’s progress. I didn’t know how much ironing she had in her basket. If she hadn’t much, she’d be almost finished, and I didn’t want her walking in on me while I was in the midst of pulling up the floorboards.

  I sat down only long enough to massage my ankle and then proceeded across the yard to the washhouse. I called out to Margaret as I approached and then stepped inside. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve returned. I’ll go back and start cleaning.” I looked in the basket that sat near the ironing board. “It looks like you still have quite a bit left before you finish.”

  “Ja, I will be here until time for the noonday meal—and maybe even after that. There is more ironing than usual this week.” Removing a handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped away the perspiration that dotted her forehead.

  A wave of guilt washed over me. “I can come out and relieve you in an hour or so if you’d like.”

  Sister Margaret chuckled and shook her head. “You remember the last time you tried your hand at ironing clothes? I had to dampen them down and start over.”

  “I won’t learn unless I try.”

  She bobbed her head. “Is true, but you have other talents. Even with practice, I do not believe ironing is your gift, Sister Jancey.”

  I laughed and nodded. “You’re probably right, but if you change your mind, I’d be willing to have you instruct me while I try again.”

  “Nein. We both have work to complete. There isn’t time for lessons today.” She turned back to the shirt and pressed the iron across the yoke.

  Her return to work signaled our conversation had ended, so I strolled back to the men’s quarters, relieved there would be sufficient time to return the clipping. Once inside the dormitory, I went directly to Thomas’s bed, shoved it a short distance, and knelt down. I silently cheered when the floorboards lifted without much effort. “Probably because I loosened them so much the last time,” I muttered.

  I reached inside the hole, but my breath caught in my throat as I stretched my hand further inside and found nothing. No bag, no money—the space was completely empty. I captured my lower lip between my teeth, fear taking hold as I leaned forward to gain a better position. I spread my fingers, but felt nothing except an empty space.

  I pushed back to my knees and stared into the dark, barren hole. Instead of returning the news clipping, I replaced the floorboards, shoved the bed to its former position, and dropped to the side of the bed. Panic gripped me and I glanced around the room, feeling like an animal in a trap.

  Where was the money? Thomas must have decided to remove it after seeing the news clipping was missing. I stared at the trunk beside his bed and noticed a note beneath Kathleen’s picture. My fingers trembled as I set aside the picture and unfolded the note.

  “Where is it?”

  I read the three words and gasped. Did he believe I’d taken his money?

  Chapter 24

  My mind was in a whirl. I didn’t know what I should do. I’d prayed, but so far I still hadn’t received an answer.

  Telling Nathan wouldn’t be wise. He’d instructed me to leave things to him, but I’d done the exact opposite. He was sure to be angry when he discovered I’d taken matters into my own hands. I could confide in Ritt if an opportunity presented itself, but I doubted that would happen. Besides, Brother William might see me and reprimand both of us, and I didn’t want to cause problems for Ritt.

  I needed to keep my wits about me and hope an answer would soon arrive. Above all else, I needed to avoid Thomas, even if it meant sticking close to Margaret’s side until this matter was resolved. What if Thomas left work and came to the dormitory and confronted me? The mere thought created a shiver of fea
r that caused my entire body to tremble.

  Instead of remaining inside any longer, I hurried out the back door to the washhouse. “How are you coming along on the ironing, Margaret?”

  She looked at me as though I’d lost my buttons. “You were out here only a short time ago, and I told you I wouldn’t be finished until noon. Nothing has happened to change that. You have finished your cleaning?”

  “Not all of it, but I was thinking I’d really like to learn to iron. The cleaning can wait. I doubt the men will notice if I haven’t dusted.”

  I wasn’t sure she’d agree since she’d said ironing wasn’t my gift, but I planned to stay until I convinced her I could learn.

  Her lips drooped into an upside-down U. “I don’t think it is wise. You’ve tried before and failed. Is easier if I finish the ironing and you clean.”

  “I don’t think ironing is so much a gift as something that can be learned. Why don’t you let me try one more time?”

  She didn’t appear pleased by my argument, but she acquiesced. “As soon as I finish this shirt, I will give you another lesson. You should sit there and watch. Maybe you will learn a few things before you actually begin.”

  I sat down and focused on each stroke of the iron. Perspiration soon trickled down the sides of my face, and I wondered how Margaret managed in this heat. She returned her iron to the stove and picked up the other one that had been heating. By the time she had finished pressing the shirt, my back was wet with perspiration and I wondered if I should have remained in the dormitory.

  She gestured for me to stand. “Now, you can take a turn.” She pointed to the basket. “Choose one of the shirts. One that is still damp.” She’d sprinkled them earlier in the morning, and with the searing heat, I imagined they’d all be as dry as dirt, but I did as she said and dug deep into the basket until my fingers touched a slightly damp piece of clothing.

 

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