Love Finds You in Amana Iowa

by Melanie Dobson

  He walked along Price Creek, swollen from the rain, and passed by the stone soap factory and the wooden windmill set back in an orchard. A smaller stone building housed the bakery at the corner and next to it was the shop where he and the other carpenters built and sometimes fixed broken furniture. Beside the carpentry shop was the cellar of the new kitchen house, awaiting its frame.

  His stomach rumbled, and he stepped off the muddy street to the orchard along the side. While the others were eating meat and some sort of potatoes, he would attempt to satisfy his hunger with fruit tonight, and then tomorrow he would ask one of the elders if he could begin taking his meals at another kitchen house.

  He ate the plum so fast that he barely tasted it and then he picked another one for his pocket. The elders would excuse him from eating supper, but not from evening prayers. Hopefully the fruit would keep his stomach quiet as they prayed.

  When he reached his room, he threw his soaked clothes onto a heap on the floor and dried himself with a towel.

  Amalie might be living in Amana now, but it didn’t mean he had to acknowledge her presence. He would ignore her, like he had done before he left Ebenezer. And like she had done to him.

  He threw the towel against the blue wall and watched it slide down.

  He couldn’t avoid every meal nor could he skip the services in the meetinghouse or their evening prayers. Maybe he could talk to the elders and they could assign Amalie to a job someplace far away, like South Amana. He might never see her again if she lived there, or at least he wouldn’t see her until she and Friedrich were married.

  He dug through the heap of wet clothes to find the other plum and ate it quickly before he pulled on a pair of dry trousers and a clean shirt.

  If only that colonel hadn’t come to Amana. If only Friedrich hadn’t felt compelled to follow him. Friedrich and Amalie would marry this fall, and Matthias would marry soon as well.

  On the table in front of him were the letters from his friend. He’d yet to open the one that Friedrich had written to him. When Friedrich returned, he might open it, just to see what his friend had said, but he couldn’t do it now. He was afraid that Friedrich might say he never planned to come back.

  Three weeks ago he’d mailed the other letter to Friedrich’s parents with a short letter of his own. He’d told them how sorry he was, that he’d tried to talk Friedrich out of leaving Amana. He couldn’t imagine how devastated they must be at the news. And embarrassed. None of the community’s sons had gone to fight in the war between the states, but now the son of a respected elder had defied the leadership of their community and gone to war.

  Next to the envelope with his name was the letter Friedrich had written to Amalie. The last letter he would have to deliver for Friedrich.

  Lightning flashed across the sky as Matthias walked back outside. The letter was tucked under his slicker and he shoved his hat down on his forehead before he rushed down two buildings to swing open the door to Henriette’s kitchen.

  As he stomped his feet on the rug by the door, he considered giving the letter to Sophia or one of the other girls to deliver to Amalie if she wasn’t there, but then he felt ridiculous. Friedrich would expect Matthias to be the one to give her the letter, and he could certainly control his emotions long enough to simply hand it off to her and leave. There was nothing else for them to talk about.

  From the dining room, he could see Amalie in the kitchen scrubbing a pot in the wooden sink. She was so full of herself and her abilities that she didn’t have time for anyone else. Even without her kitchen complete, she had found work in Henriette’s, because work was everything to her. More important than any of the people in her life.

  He clutched his fists together, welcoming back the anger. He would remain angry at her until Friedrich came home, and then the two of them could iron out their differences.

  “Matthias!” He recognized the lilt in Sophia’s voice before he looked back at the kitchen.

  He didn’t see Amalie, but Sophia smiled wide at him as she glided into the room. Her pale face was flawless, no hint of the sweat that drenched most kitchen workers after a long meal.

  “Hello, Sister Sophia,” he said with a slight bow of his head.

  If Amalie heard him, she didn’t come to the doorway to greet him.

  Sophia crossed the room toward him, accusing and teasing him at the same time. “You missed supper.”

  “I wasn’t hungry.”

  “You’re such a hard-working man, Brother Matthias. It’s a shame for you not to be hungry.”

  He was a wretched man, torn between his desires and what he knew to be right. He knew Sophia was only flirting with him, like she did with every unmarried man now that Friedrich was gone, but still in some way, her praise seemed to soothe the frustrations within him. “You’ve worked a long day yourself.”

  “I don’t do it for myself,” she said softly. Her eyes widened in open admiration. “I do it for men like you who are working so hard to build our town.”

  He cleared his throat. “And we appreciate it.”

  “There’s some sausage left over and potato salad,” she whispered. “I’ll fetch it for you.”

  “You don’t have to—” he started, but sausage sounded mighty good to him right now.

  “Sophia!” Sister Henriette called from the kitchen.

  Sophia glanced over her shoulder, but before she left, she flashed one last grin at him.

  He pitied the man who eventually married her. She needed more attention than any one man could give. A woman like Amalie was confident without a man’s attention, without anyone’s attention. He’d seen proof of that this very day, when she reacted to the news of Friedrich’s leaving by asking for her kitchen house. Amalie needed her kitchen more than she needed a man.

  Henriette shot him a stern look when he stepped into her kitchen, but she didn’t ask him to leave. Amalie was arched over the sink scrubbing a stack of pans. And she ignored him.

  He nodded toward her. “I need to speak with Sister Amalie.”

  Henriette hesitated at his request. Unmarried men and women were not supposed to socialize in their community.

  She motioned him back to the doorway and stepped beside him. “Why must you talk to her?”

  “I have something to give her,” he whispered. “From Friedrich.”

  She held out her hand. “I will give it to her.”

  It was what he wanted, for someone else to deliver it, but still his fingers clutched the envelope. Friedrich would want him to give it to her himself.

  “If you allow me to speak with her today, I will not disturb her again.”

  Her hand dropped to her side. “You must stay in the dining room.”

  “We will.”

  With a wave of her arms, Henriette shooed Amalie from the kitchen. Amalie wiped her hands on a towel, and he stood back to let her pass into the dining room. Instead of stopping to speak with him, though, she hurried to one of the tables and began stacking the plates.

  “Amalie—” he started.

  “Supper finished a half hour ago.”

  “I’m not here to eat.”

  She picked up another plate and wiped it clean with her rag before adding it to the others. “Sophia is certainly glad to see you.”

  He started to protest her words but thought better of it before the denial escaped his lips.

  “It’s too bad,” Amalie continued. “Hilga Vinzenz might think you’ve been unfaithful.”

  “I’m not the one who was unfaithful.”

  She stopped her busy hands and faced him. “If you are implying that I’ve done something wrong, Matthias, you are mistaken.”

  The familiar anger surged in him again. “Everyone is always wrong except you.”

  “I haven’t done anything—” she began, but he shrugged her off. Friedrich was the one required to listen to her arguments, not him.

  He pulled the letter from his pocket, and when he held it out to her, she stared at it like it was a coppe
rhead posed to strike.

  “Friedrich left this for you.”

  Her gaze remained frozen on the envelope. “What did he say?” “I didn’t read your letter.”

  She looked up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment the innocence in her eyes reminded him of the girl she once was. “But what did he say to you, when he left?”

  “He left without saying good-bye, to me or to anyone else.”

  Reaching out, she took the envelope from his hands, and when she did, it felt like she’d taken a load from his shoulders. He backed toward the door.

  “I have been faithful, Matthias,” she repeated, like she had to convince him that she had done the right thing. “I hope you have as well.”

  As she turned, he tried to shrug off her words, but the burden returned heavy on his shoulders. Louise Vinzenz had spent the prime years of her life teaching him and Friedrich and Hilga about the value of faithfulness and love as well as grace. He would never do anything to hurt anyone in her family.

  “Good-bye, Amalie.”

  When he walked out the door, Sophia was waiting for him outside with a wrapping of brown paper. He could smell the spicy aroma of the sausage inside.

  “Danke schön,” he said before he rushed away to evening prayer.

  He’d done what was required of him. He’d told Amalie about Friedrich’s decision and his departure, and he’d delivered the letter to her as well. Now his duty was done. Henriette wouldn’t have to worry about him speaking to Amalie again.

  Now that the night has passed away and its dark shadows wane,

  All who were weary yesterday have been revived again.

  Christian Metz

  Chapter Eleven

  For the first time in a very long while, Amalie was alone. The feather tick and pillows enveloped her when she sat on the narrow bed, but she hardly noticed the softness of it.

  Light from the kerosene lantern glowed orange on the stand beside her, flickering light across the deep blue color on the plastered walls. Friedrich’s letter lay beside the lantern, unopened. She’d waited to read his words in the privacy of her new room, but now that she was alone, she was afraid of what he might say.

  Leaning back against the headboard, she glanced around her new room. There were windows on two of the walls, the glass covered by brown muslin curtains to keep out the night air. A clock sat on the walnut bureau across from her bed, and her trunk rested on the scrubbed pine floor beside a stove. Near the far window was a washstand, but she’d visited the bathhouse instead of using the washbowl and pitcher tonight.

  Her skin was clean, but her heart ached in her chest. She was supposed to be elated tonight, fresh from her reunion with Friedrich. They were supposed to begin their new life together right away in this beautiful place, but nothing was as she had planned.

  On the trail she’d longed for a bed and bath, but these luxuries didn’t comfort her like she’d imagined. Even with the sturdy roof over her head and feather pillows underneath, she wished she were back on the trail for the night. The anticipation of seeing Friedrich had been so sweet as she counted the days and then hours until their reunion.

  Karoline was leaving for Middle Amana in the morning to live in the room next to her mother until the new kitchen house was complete. Amalie had already said good-bye to her this evening, after the prayer meeting. There was no one else for her to confide in here in Amana, about her frustration or her anger or the pain that had entwined itself around her heart today. It would take time for her to build trust with the other women, trust that they wouldn’t share what was in her heart.

  Tears filled her eyes and began to stream down her cheeks.

  How she wished Friedrich were in Amana. She’d been strong for so long, intent on the day they would be reunited. But now she didn’t know when she would see him again.

  She reached for the envelope and held it to her chest. There was so much for her to sort out now, so much to consider. Would Friedrich come back to Amana after the war? Would he come back to her? And if he did, would he be the same person she’d loved for so many years?

  War would have to change Friedrich. People would be dying around him, and he might even be required to kill someone himself, the blood staining his soul. When he returned, he would be different than the Amana man she’d known for so long, since the weeks that they had traveled together across the Atlantic as kinder.

  Friedrich would be accountable to God for His actions, and she prayed he would consider in earnest before he took up arms in this war. He’d always been a man who acted before he thought of the consequences. And sometimes he didn’t even consider the consequences well after he acted. But what he saw in the battle, and what he did, would affect him—and her—the rest of their lives.

  She would be faithful to her promise to Friedrich, but what if, after his months outside their colony, he decided the world held more of a promise for his future without their community or without her?

  She slid her fingernail under the lip of the envelope to open it and pulled out two pieces of stationery. Wiping her tears off with her sleeve, she focused her eyes on Friedrich’s familiar handwriting and began to read his words to her

  My dearest Amalie, he began.

  She took another deep breath before she continued.

  By now you know that I am gone, and I am deeply saddened to think of not being in Amana when you arrive. I do not mean to hurt you, Amalie, and I can’t even explain to you exactly why I must go. I agree with Brother Metz and the elders, this war would best be resolved through peace and prayer, but our government has chosen to fight and I feel I must fight alongside my brothers for those who cannot fight for themselves.

  I wanted to say good-bye to you before I left, but if I had looked into your eyes, even one glimpse, I never would have left. And I never could have lived with myself for ignoring this call that I believe comes from God.

  In the next paragraphs, Friedrich described a black man by the name of Joseph who had once been enslaved by a master who whipped him, and he quoted King David’s psalm about helping the poor and needy.

  No matter how long I am gone, I will remain true to you, Amalie. I want to marry you. I want to see our children’s faces one day, and I want to grow old with you at my side.

  I pray that you will wait for me as well, but if I don’t return, my desire is that you will live a life of dedication in the Kolonie. And that you will find love.

  When I return, if you will have me, my heart will be…

  Forever yours,

  Friedrich

  Amalie clutched the letter to her chest like she held a piece of the man she would marry. Friedrich Vinzenz hadn’t run away from his promise to her. He still loved her and he was planning to return one day to marry her.

  The promise was still there, the hope of their future together. She might be weak, but God was strong, much stronger than she was. He would give her the strength she needed to build her new life in Amana and be ready when Friedrich returned.

  She lifted the letter, written by the only man she had ever loved, and read it one more time.

  If God’s Spirit was truly tugging on Friedrich’s heart, he must follow, but she still didn’t understand why God would require him to go to war. There was so much to lose in this war, especially when they were fighting against men like General Morgan, who viewed destruction as entertainment. It was as if he and his men enjoyed the conquest and even the blood.

  Instead of waiting on God, Friedrich often fought against what he believed to be wrong, but she couldn’t fathom his killing someone. There was too much kindness in his soul to wound a brother.

  Her thoughts traveled back to her day in Lisbon, to the shopkeeper who had given her the book that he said started the war.

  She glanced over at the trunk again along her wall. Hidden deep inside was the copy of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Perhaps the book would answer some of her questions. If she could understand why these men were fighting, perhaps she could understand why Friedrich felt G
od wanted him to go.

  Amalie tiptoed over to the trunk and dug through the blankets and clothing. She removed the house blessing she’d stitched for her and Friedrich’s room and placed it on the bureau. Then she found the novel stowed underneath more clothing.

  When she returned to her bed, she opened the book to the first chapter and began reading about a slave woman named Eliza and a Kentucky gentleman who was about to sell Eliza’s son.

  Seven hours later, Amalie rolled over on her bed and rubbed her eyes in the darkness. Someone was pounding pans or something else outside the tent, but she didn’t hear the oxen stirring yet. She pulled the cover over her shoulders, trying to block out the annoyance of the noise, but it didn’t stop.

  She sat up in her bed and gazed wildly around the room for Karoline until she realized they were no longer on the trail. Their group had arrived in Amana, and she was alone in her room. She had stayed up way too late reading. Sometime during the night she had finally blown out the lamp, succumbing to sleep, but the story lingered in her mind.

  Someone knocked again, and she jumped up from her bed, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders before she cracked open the door. Henriette Koch was on the other side.

  The woman’s lips were pressed together, and the familiar annoyance rushed through Amalie at the woman’s disapproval.

  “You’re not living in Ebenezer anymore, Amalie.”

  Amalie rubbed her eyes. “We get up early in Ebenezer.”

  “With all the new arrivals, we have fifty people to feed this morning,” Henriette barked. “Twenty minutes from now.”

  The bells of the bakery cart rang on the street below as Amalie backed into her room. “I need to dress.”

  “Well, do it quickly.”

  After closing the door, Amalie rushed back into the room and pulled her dress off a hook. This morning she hoped the elders and the other kitchen workers would excuse her tardiness, thinking she needed to rest after her long journey, but she would have to be careful about her rest from now on. If she didn’t prove faithful in this job, Brother Schaube would never let her oversee her own kitchen.