Karoline had rested for much of the journey, recovering slowly from her injury, but she refused to remain inside the wagon for their arrival. She walked alongside Amalie, leading the wagon train as they traveled through the valley.
Amalie’s hands tingled and her heart quickened with anxiety and excitement. On the other side of the forest, Friedrich Vinzenz would be waiting for her. Not with open arms in front of the other brothers and sisters, but she hoped there were would be a smile on his face, a promise of things to come.
Never again would she have to hover over a camping stove to cook. Nor would she have to sleep in a tent or unload her kitchen supplies each night from her wagon and then load them up the next morning after breakfast. By day’s end tomorrow, if she wanted, she and Karoline would be able to work the stove in their own kitchen.
With Amana just a few miles in front of them, it felt like the wagons were barely crawling toward their destination. She wanted nothing more than to run all the way to the village, even if she ran by herself. But they’d traveled for five weeks as a community, and with the exception of the two men Mr. Faust had sent ahead last night as messengers, they would all arrive together.
Men waved their hats at them from the fields, and as they passed through the small village of Homestead, several women ran out to them with fresh fruit. The women squeezed their hands and welcomed them home. Their group didn’t stop in Homestead, but the warm greeting empowered all of them. They moved even faster toward Amana.
Next, they crossed railroad tracks and slowly hiked along a path in the forest. The sun broke through the leaves and the fog, and Amalie stepped out of the trees into the grass and shaded her eyes as the yellow light flooded her with warmth.
A windmill towered in the distance, above clusters of homes that reminded her of Ebenezer. Smoke wisped gracefully into the air—not black smoke like the burning bridge in Ohio but gentle puffs of white from the chimney of the kitchen house, preparing for the noon meal.
Friedrich was in one of those buildings this morning, waiting for her.
As they drew closer to the entrance of the village, Karoline took a deep breath beside her, but she didn’t slow her pace. Amalie turned toward her and whispered, “Do you need to rest?”
“Oh, no.” Karoline shook her head. “I have to see their faces.”
“Your mother?”
She smiled. “I want to see everyone, but I especially want to see Friedrich when he catches his first glimpse of you.”
Amalie couldn’t help but smile back as she smoothed the hair hidden under her sunbonnet. She’d brushed her long hair for a good ten minutes last night and even bathed in a creek near where they slept. After three years of waiting, she didn’t want Friedrich to be disappointed at the sight of her.
She almost wished he were in the fields instead of the village this morning. She could slip away in the crowd before she saw him and at least change into the calico dress she’d kept clean in her trunk and brush the remaining trail dust out of her hair. Maybe she could even wash her face again before she greeted him.
But with the messengers sent ahead last night, Friedrich would know the caravan was on its way. Even though she would like to change before she saw him, she’d be more disappointed if he wasn’t there waiting for her, as excited and even as nervous to see her as she was to see him.
She would know, the moment she saw Friedrich, if he was glad to see her or if he was disappointed in her. She would pretend, if she must, that she couldn’t see his disappointment.
As they drew closer to the village, Mr. Faust rode up beside her and Karoline and slid from his horse.
“Amalie from Amana,” he sung. “You were named for this place.”
“My parents didn’t know anything about Amana when they named me.”
“You sure you won’t change your mind, Miss Wiese?” he asked again, his eyes teasing her. “Before it’s too late—”
Amalie started to rebuke him, but her heart felt so light this morning. She’d spent the entire trip protesting this man’s advances, but now they were close to the end of their journey. Maybe she could tease him back.
She tilted her head. “Are you asking me to marry you, Mr. Faust?”
Panic replaced the cockiness in his eyes. “I—I might ask if you hadn’t promised to marry another.”
“Maybe she can unpromise,” Karoline said. A giggle burst out of her lips when Mr. Faust’s lower lip dropped.
Ahead of them, Amalie saw the strength and beauty of the sandstone and brick buildings that lined the streets of Amana, the heritage already steeped into the homes and kitchen houses. The wooden buildings were left unpainted, but even in its newness, the weathered wood gave the village a sense of permanence far beyond its eight years.
Gardens flourished at the edge of the village, vibrant beds of reds, purples, and yellows, and behind the gardens were acres and acres filled with alfalfa and corn and orchards of fruit trees. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the warm summer scents of grass and cattle and life in abundance.
Friedrich was right. This was paradise.
She turned to Mr. Faust. “I’m sure the elders could find a nice job for you in Amana, caring for the sheep maybe or harvesting the grain.”
The wagon master’s face whitened a shade, and he hopped back on his horse to ride beside them as they entered the village. Amana was paradise for them, but it would be hellish for a man like Mr. Faust. He could never conform to the strict lifestyle and devotion of the Inspirationists, just as she could never imagine living a life outside.
Her heart skipped when bells tolled, ringing out across the valley. Dear brothers and sisters swarmed out of the buildings and surrounded them. Excitement punctuated the air as the men and women rushed forward to shake her hand, kiss her cheek.
People crowded around her, but in the midst of the crowds, she searched for Friedrich’s face. There would be no private reunion today for her and Friedrich. The crowd would be watching them more than the others, but even with all of the people, she would be happy just to be close to Friedrich. To see him again.
She hoped, though, that he wouldn’t touch even her hand until they were alone. She wanted to relish his first touch, to enjoy every moment of being close to him. She would cherish it for the rest of her life.
A woman shouted, and when Karoline saw the wave of her mother’s arms, she ran to her. Sister Baumer embraced her daughter, and Amalie smiled at their reunion. Sister Baumer had been called early to the Kolonie because the colonists requested a good mother to guide and care for them as they built the villages. The elders needed Karoline to stay working in the Ebenezer kitchen for several more years, but now that the mother and daughter were reunited, they would never have to part again.
Amalie was so very glad she didn’t have to deliver the news of Karoline’s death to this sweet woman. Instead of mourning, it was a day for rejoicing. A good day for all of them to reunite.
In the midst of her search for Friedrich, Amalie found Matthias Roemig instead. He was staring at her from the outskirts of the crowd, his brown eyes prominent in the sea of so many blue eyes.
There was no welcome smile on Matthias’s lips, but she shrugged off the animosity in his gaze, trying to ignore him as she scanned the faces of the men around him, certain Friedrich would be nearby. She looked along the wooden sidewalk and searched the doorways and windows, but she didn’t see the face she longed to see.
Someone reached for her again. Rosa Schaube. The sister shook her hand but then faded back into the crowd. In that moment, Amalie realized people were talking all around her, greeting the travelers, but no one seemed to want to speak with her.
“Sister Baumer.” She called out to Karoline’s mother, and the woman turned toward her. Amalie leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Where is Friedrich?”
Worry flashed across Sister Baumer’s face. Or was it fear? Instead of answering, the woman patted Amalie’s arm and then nudged Karoline forward. Karoline turned around to mouth a
n apology, but Amalie waved her on. It should be a time of celebration for Karoline and her mother.
Amalie glanced around again, certain Friedrich must be near. Her arms started trembling when she still couldn’t find him.
Had he changed his mind and promised his hand to someone else? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to write her with the news, but now that she was here, he would be forced to admit the truth. Perhaps it was easier to hide than face her.
She wrapped her hands across her elbows in an attempt to stop her shaking. Who had won his attention in Amana? Did it happen in the past few weeks, while she was on the trail even?
She’d heard whispers about Sophia Paul. The woman was only a year or two out of Lehrschule when she traveled here, and everyone knew she wanted to marry Friedrich. But Friedrich had assured Amalie over and over that he wasn’t interested in Sophia. He said he was waiting for her.
Her hands secured over her elbows, Amalie controlled the shaking in her arms, but then her legs began to tremble under her long skirt.
People were watching her, and she inched her chin a little higher. Even if Friedrich jilted her, she would not be humiliated by his actions. At least she wouldn’t act like she was humiliated around the others. She was an expert at keeping her emotions dammed up inside her until she was alone in her room, the only place where she allowed the floodgates to open.
She had been faithful to Friedrich since he left for Iowa, and the two years prior. There was no reason for her to cower in front of the others.
As the brothers and sisters turned back to the buildings, Matthias stepped forward. His eyes were focused sharply upon her, like two arrows intent on their prey. She wanted to flee from his scrutiny, but she refused to cower. If Friedrich had changed his mind, if he’d decided to marry another, she prayed Matthias wouldn’t be the one to tell her. She’d never be able to hide her humiliation from him.
And it would take a lifetime for her to forgive Friedrich for asking his best friend to bear his sin.
Matthias stood over her now, his dark hair tucked back under his hat. His arms and his eyes were as strong as the rest of his features, like they’d been since he turned fourteen and began working with Carl Vinzenz in the carpentry shop. Neither his strength nor the intensity in his eyes intimidated her like it did other women, though.
She met his stare and locked it. In his eyes was a mixture of pity and dislike. He didn’t have to pretend that he liked her or that he was glad to see her. If only he would lean down and whisper that Friedrich was waiting someplace private for their reunion. Waiting to surprise her.
Her heart tangled in the chaos of her mind.
“Who is that man?” Matthias quizzed, his voice an eerie calm.
She glanced behind her and saw Mr. Faust beside his horse, watching her. A small group of people was still greeting those in the last wagons with stiff hugs and warm smiles. The others had gone into the kitchen house for their meal.
“Our wagon master.”
“You were awfully friendly with him.”
Anger welled up inside her. How dare he insinuate she’d been the least bit unfaithful to Friedrich? She kept her chin high in the air. It didn’t matter what Matthias thought or said. She didn’t have to answer to him.
“Where is Friedrich?” she demanded.
“Amalie—” He tried to prod her forward, away from the crowd, but she didn’t move. Instead, she looked him straight in the eye.
“Has he changed his mind about our marriage?”
Matthias shook his head, and her shoulders fell a notch. “Then where is he, Matthias?”
He pointed her to a dirt road, off the main street, but she didn’t want to skulk away with him. She wanted answers.
“Where is—” she started again, but her voice trailed off. “What happened to him?”
When he still didn’t answer, a shadow crossed over her mind and filled her with dread. For a moment, she was back in the wagon, pleading with Karoline to wake up. She’d almost lost her friend on the trail, but she hadn’t thought once about the possibility of losing Friedrich. He was too young and much too spirited to pass into eternity.
The ground felt like it tilted under her, and she reached out for the side of the wagon to steady herself.
“Is Friedrich ill?”
When Matthias took her arm again, she allowed him to guide her away from the chaos of the crowd. With every step, her feet ached, and the pain surprised her. She’d been so excited to arrive that she hadn’t even felt the blisters on her heels in a week. Now the pain rushed back to her, and she felt tired and much older than her twenty-four years.
On the other side of a long sandstone building, away from the throng of people, Matthias released her elbow. She stepped away from him.
“He’s left us,” Matthias said simply.
Amalie looked into Matthias’s dark eyes flecked with yellow, and she saw the hurt in them. And she felt his pain before she could even begin to process how she felt, before she even understood what happened.
Some people had left the Community of True Inspiration over the years, but most members remained their entire life. She couldn’t imagine any of the Vinzenz family leaving the community, especially not Friedrich.
Her voice trembled in spite of her intent to control it. “Tell me where he went, Matthias.”
He shifted on his feet, his words low. “He went off to war.”
“What?”
“He left the Society to fight in the war.”
Left the Society. War.
She tried to fit the words together, but she couldn’t seem to comprehend what he was saying.
“Where did he go?” she asked again, as if this time her question might change the answer.
“Friedrich joined the Union army.”
She fell back against a tree.
“Amalie?” Matthias said, both hands in front of him as if he could capture her if she toppled.
She pushed his hands away. She didn’t want him to touch her. “When did he leave?”
His lips moved, but no words came out.
She stood up, willing her strength to come from within her and support her body. “When, Matthias?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Several people walked around the corner, but their faces were a blur to her. She didn’t care if they were watching her or what they thought. She had every right to her anger, to ask whatever questions she wanted.
She’d spent the past five weeks trekking across the rugged trails of this country. She’d waded across a river, cooked and slept in the wild. She’d been dirty and tired and blistered from the sun and her shoes, but it had all been worth it to see her future husband before the other Inspirationists came in the fall. Instead of waiting to greet her, though, or to even say good-bye, the man she planned to marry was gone.
She tried to keep her chin held high, pretending that she was a queen again instead of a woman jilted by the man she loved.
“Where is my kitchen?” she asked.
Matthias stepped back, his hands in the air. “Your kitchen?”
“Yes, my kitchen,” she snapped. “I—I want to start unloading my things.”
Matthias’s mouth dropped. “You’re unbelievable, Amalie.”
Didn’t he understand? If she stayed here, out on the street, she would crumble and then he would have to pick up all the pieces.
But he continued to stare at her like she was Judas Iscariot. A betrayer. He didn’t understand, and right now she didn’t care what he thought, what any of them thought. She had to get busy in her new kitchen, or she would collapse.
Later, when she was alone, she would think about the repercussions of Friedrich leaving, but this morning she would fall back on the best cure for any ailment of the heart or the head. Or at least the best distraction. Hard work in the kitchen house would distract anyone from their pain.
She asked Matthias again about her kitchen. When he refused to answer, she picked up her skirts and brushed by him. If he wo
uldn’t assist her, she would find someone else who would.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Faust approach them. She didn’t want to talk to the man nor did she want to tell him that Friedrich was gone.
With a quick swivel on her heels, she marched back toward the main street. Matthias could say what he wanted to Mr. Faust. She needed to start unloading her supplies into her new kitchen house. She had planned to wait a day or two before she began cooking again, but there was no reason to wait now. Her responsibility was to cook for the people in Amana, and she would start right away.
Sorrow and doubt leave me fearful and shaken;
Oh, who will help me when nobody can?
Christian Metz
Chapter Nine
Matthias kicked the rock in front of him and watched it fly down the road. As the stone rolled away from him, it pushed away everything that was in its path. Just like Amalie Helene Wiese.
He kicked another rock, venting his own anger under his breath. The woman didn’t look back as she fled around the meetinghouse, running away from her problems. Like ignoring her anger or sadness would make it better.
For a moment there, he thought Amalie might actually grieve Friedrich’s decision like the rest of them. Or at least express her anger. But if she cared for Friedrich, the feeling was buried so deep within herself that she might never be able to express it. All she cared about was her kitchen. Her stupid, sterile kitchen where the only pain she might feel was a flesh wound from the cut of a knife or burn from the stove. Nothing that would wound her heart or soul.
He’d hoped for Friedrich’s sake that Amalie had grown above the self-centeredness that plagued her most of her life. But apparently her coldness was going to be a permanent trait, just like her father. And her mother.
Congratulations, Amalie. If she couldn’t have Friedrich, at least she would have her kitchen.
Love Finds You in Amana Iowa Page 8