“When we met before, I said some things I didn’t mean,” the colonel said.
“I’ve said things as of late that I didn’t mean either.”
“If you can get the supplies through the barricade…” He paused. “They will help sustain our troops.”
As Matthias stepped into the boxcar, he watched Joseph place his hand on the colonel’s shoulder. “I got to go with ’em, sir.”
“Oh, no,” Colonel O’Neill said. “There are still slave traders roaming the southern states.”
“I know the terrain,” Joseph insisted. “I can help ’em get to Chattanooga.”
The colonel shook his head, but as the train crept forward, he didn’t stop Joseph as he climbed into the boxcar beside Matthias and Faust.
Matthias lifted his hat to the man and then leaned back against a crate as Faust slid the door closed.
He didn’t know what lay ahead of them, but he was glad that both Joseph and Faust were with him to help guide his path through this strange world. And he was even more glad that Amalie was praying for him.
From morn till eve my theme shall be thy mercy’s wondrous measure;
To sacrifice myself for Thee shall be my aim and pleasure.
Paul Gerhardt
Chapter Thirty
Amalie and Karoline draped pine boughs along the tables in the dining room and arranged pink and white cyclamen blooms to sprinkle color into the green foliage.
She didn’t know the couple being married very well, but as she and Karoline prepared their wedding luncheon, she tried hard to be happy for them.
These days it seemed like everyone in their village was scrutinizing her every emotion, trying to weigh if her love for Friedrich was true. She didn’t know exactly what to say about anything, nor did she know how she should feel.
When a man and woman in their society made a formal declaration to marry, it was after much deliberation. Even with a period of separation, they almost always went forward with their marriage. She didn’t know any women who had lost their betrothed before their marriage. Elderly men and women in Amana, and a few of younger people as well, understood the heartache of losing a spouse, but Amalie wasn’t a widow. She was a woman who’d lost the man she loved, a man she’d never married.
Karoline stepped away from the table and gave a clap. “It looks beautiful.”
Amalie surveyed the greenery and the assortment of nut and feather cakes stacked on a separate table at the side of the room. Hopefully the bride and groom would be pleased with the dining hall.
“One day I will prepare this room for you and your husband,” she told her friend.
“No, you won’t,” Karoline protested. “There’s no one in Amana for me to marry.”
Amalie pretended not to hear her words. “We’ll celebrate in the summer, though, so we can decorate this room with dahlias and phlox and dozens upon dozens of peonies.”
Karoline rolled her eyes as she turned back toward the kitchen. “You must be dreaming about your wedding.”
Instead of hurrying back with Karoline, Amalie lingered by the cake table. A wedding celebration was a rare holiday for their workers, and for a moment, she wondered what it would be like for Matthias to join them for the afternoon of singing and eating and celebrating the couple’s future as man and wife.
But he and Mr. Faust had been gone for a week now. The elders received a telegram from the men soon after they’d left, saying they and their crates had arrived in Nashville. They didn’t say how long it would take for them to travel to Chattanooga or when they would return.
Part of her didn’t want Matthias to think she cared for him, not any more than a sister in Christ would care for him. But her mind wandered back to Ebenezer, the strength in Matthias’s arms as he rescued her from the ice so long ago, and the fire of youth in his eyes. Then she thought about him as a man, in Amana. His determination to finish her kitchen and protect Friedrich’s honor.
But now—now Friedrich was gone. And he had been gone from her since she was twenty-one.
What if, one day, she did decide to marry?
She straightened the cakes as she tried to force that thought out of her mind. Matthias might not even come back from Tennessee. She could no longer allow herself to focus another moment on her hopes; she need only pray for his safety.
“They’re coming,” Karoline called from the kitchen.
Amalie glanced out the window and watched the smiles of the newly married couple as they hurried across the street with dozens of family members and friends trailing behind them.
God in His time would direct her, but for now she would guard the broken pieces of her heart.
* * * * *
Fog shrouded the river and the forest along the shoreline, so thick that Matthias couldn’t see the water over the side of their boat. It was the perfect covering for them to sneak across the enemy’s line.
They’d carried the supplies by wagon down the Sequatchie Valley since the railway had been destroyed, then over a mountain pass. The three wooden pontoons that Major Oldham promised them were waiting along the Tennessee River, the captain and his crew of freed Negro men having paddled up from Bridgeport, Alabama.
They’d emptied the crates of supplies into the boats and covered the clothing and food with canvas to keep out the rain, but nothing would save the supplies if Rebel soldiers sank the boats.
Four crewmen paddled each boat, and at the captain’s signal, they stopped paddling and listened. Behind the curtain of fog, soldiers marched near the shoreline. Matthias could hear the pings of musketry in the distance, and he prayed quietly for protection. None of them knew where the soldiers’ loyalties lay, but a Yankee would be just as likely to shoot at an unidentified boat as a Rebel would.
“Stay low,” Faust whispered from across the floor.
The man needn’t worry. Both Matthias and Joseph lay flat against the hull—Matthias hadn’t moved for a good hour. He wished he knew how to swim—in case the soldiers aimed their fire toward the boats—but he figured he could paddle to shore if he had to, preferably on the north side of the river.
When the soldiers’ footsteps quieted, the captain’s words slurred slightly as he commanded his men to continue paddling. Whiskey seemed to provide the man with the courage he needed to navigate through enemy territory. Matthias only hoped the captain could keep his wits about him while the enemy was so close. The captain said he didn’t sympathize with either side of the war, but he was glad to profit from the madness.
The Confederates still surrounded the town, but according to Major Oldham, they were also fighting against the Federals on Lookout Mountain. The fog was a blessed deterrent this early morning, and with God’s help, Matthias hoped they could maneuver around those left to guard Chattanooga.
The captain directed the boats around the river’s rocky crags. They were about ten miles from the town of Chattanooga now, and if they could keep up this pace, they should be there by nightfall.
Matthias’s fingers slipped into his pocket, the warmth long replaced with cold, and he felt the satchel inside that carried the key to the box he’d given Amalie. More than anything, he wanted to do this job well, and then he wanted to return to Amana, to open the box for her.
Shaking his head, he let go of the satchel and lifted himself up on the bench. Joseph quietly joined him, and together they looked out toward the fog. The trees and most of the cliffs were still obstructed from their view, but Matthias could see the ripples of dark water alongside their boat.
Faust pinched tobacco leaves out of a pouch and tucked them inside his cheek. Joseph took a pinch, but Faust didn’t ask Matthias if he wanted tobacco. “Are you afraid?” he asked instead.
“A little.”
“You know, I think a bit of that gypsy blood still runs through you. Most men would be terrified by now.”
Matthias leaned back against the canvas side, the cold air ruffling his hair and coat. Perhaps some good had come out of his childhood. He didn�
�t want to leave Amana, but when he did, he wasn’t nearly as afraid as he thought he would be.
“You are a lucky man to have a girl like Amalie waiting for you.”
His fingers brushed over his pocket again. “I hope she does wait for me.”
Matthias glanced to the bow as the captain shuffled back toward them.
“This is my last favor for the major,” the man slurred. He kept calling their trip a favor, but they were paying him handsomely for it.
“How long until we arrive in Chattanooga?” Matthias asked.
The captain’s eyes were on the water. “By nightfall, if we’re lucky.”
A shot rattled through the fog and reverberated across their boat. The captain took a long swig from his flask and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Darn lucky if we get there at all.”
Yield to God in true submission, He will free you from on high.
For your sorrow, grief, and strife, He’ll bestow the crown of life.
Joachim Pauly
Chapter Thirty-One
Amalie hurried outside when she saw Jonah ride into the village.
“Is there any news?” she asked before he dismounted. They’d had no word from Matthias since they’d received the telegram from Nashville.
Jonah shook his head. “The colonel said there is substantial fighting near Chattanooga. They won’t let anyone in or out of the town.”
“I thought the troops were resting for the winter.”
“It’s hard to rest when you don’t have food or clothing.”
“Matthias is in danger, isn’t he?”
He lifted his recovering arm, as if she needed the reminder. “No one is safe near the front lines.”
As much as Amalie wanted the supplies to reach the soldiers, she hoped Matthias would wait outside Chattanooga until the siege was over.
“The colonel said he would send a messenger as soon as he receives word from Matthias.”
Amalie nodded, stepping back to the kitchen. There was nothing else she could do but wait. “Come and eat some pie,” she said.
Jonah hitched the horse to a post and followed her into the kitchen. The sling on his arm was gone now, and the despair once etched around his eyes had been transformed into a familiar contentment. It was a slow process of healing for all of them, but she was glad to see the smile on his face.
Last week Brother Schaube offered Jonah work as a carpenter until Matthias returned, and Jonah had accepted the offer immediately. He only went to Marengo these days at the elder’s request to inquire about Matthias at the colonel’s office, though it seemed to her that Jonah didn’t even want to go back to his hometown for news. He stayed above Henriette’s kitchen and ate there as well.
Karoline was by the stove when Amalie walked into the kitchen, stirring the chicken noodle soup in a stockpot.
Jonah paused in the doorway. “Good morning, Miss Baumer.”
Karoline nodded at him, but she didn’t respond.
Amalie eyed her friend curiously and then turned back to Jonah. “Karoline and I would be honored if you would join us for the noonday meal.” She glanced over at the stove. “Don’t you think, Karoline?”
“Ye—Yes. You should join us.”
Did Karoline just stutter?
Faint ribbons of pink fluttered up Karoline’s face as Amalie studied her. Then Amalie turned back to Jonah. “Have you tasted Karoline’s chicken soup before?”
Jonah shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“It’s the best in the Kolonie.”
His eyes were still on Karoline. Karoline’s eyes were on her soup.
“I’m sure it is,” he said.
Amalie handed Jonah a fork along with a piece of warm apple pie.
“I need to pump some water,” she said as she patted one of the stools for Jonah. “Why don’t you sit and enjoy your pie?”
“Amalie—” Karoline protested, turning her head.
“I won’t be gone long.”
Amalie grinned at her friend as Jonah took a seat, and then she slipped out the back door.
* * * * *
Matthias and the others ducked down into the open hull as gunfire rattled the boat. Pockets of water splashed around them, and he prayed the shots would continue to pelt the river instead of their pontoon.
The winter sunlight was melting away the fog, and as the minutes passed, thick layers of gray peeled back until Matthias could finally see the shoreline. He’d thought they were in the middle of the river, but a grassy beach lay only yards away. And the tall grass was peppered with at least a dozen soldiers, the butts of their guns aimed at his boat.
He saw the blue tatters of their Federal uniforms. A few of them wore caps, while others had holes in their coats and shirts. Bare toes stuck out from the frayed hem of one soldier’s trousers while another man wore only one shoe.
Faust rose above the canvas sides, his hands in the air, but instead of lifting his arms like the others, Joseph reached down and opened one of the boxes beside Matthias. Standing slowly beside Faust, Joseph held up a shoe for the men to see. “These men,” he called. “They got shoes and food and blankets for all of you.”
Joseph pitched the shoe forward, but before he released it, Faust yelled, “Don’t throw that.”
It was too late. The shoe sailed through the air and landed on the shore.
Matthias cringed at the man’s error—a mortal one for all who had helped them—and he braced himself for the retaliation of fire. But instead of shooting, half the soldiers were focused on Joseph. The rest of them were focused on the shoe.
When the shoe didn’t detonate, the soldier in front lowered his weapon and poked at it with his bayonet. Then he waved at the others and a cheer echoed across the rocky beach and the trees.
“How did you know what to do?” Matthias asked Joseph as they paddled toward shore.
The man shrugged. “If you’d of thrown it, they woulda shot you.”
Matthias and the others passed around the jackets to the cold soldiers. Men with bare feet tugged on socks and laced on new shoes. Then they devoured the cheese and salted pork. Many of them had lost or burned their blankets weeks ago so the Confederate soldiers couldn’t use them, but the Rebels never captured them. Now they had new blankets to keep them warm at night.
The baas soldier directed Matthias away from the others. “Name’s Brayden,” he said as he chewed on a piece of the salted pork. “We’re from Pennsylvania.”
Matthias introduced himself.
“I don’t know how much longer we could’ve lasted without food,” Brayden whispered, then he glanced down at Matthias’s plain clothes. “Why aren’t you soldiering?”
“I—” Guilt washed over Matthias for a moment, and then he stood taller. He had done the right thing, following his leaders in their pursuit of peace. “I belong to a group called the Inspirationists. We believe there are peaceful ways to resolve this war.”
“I wish you’d tell that to the folks in Washington.”
“We tried, several times, but they wouldn’t listen to us.”
“I’m glad you didn’t enlist,” Braydon said. “My men and I are grateful for the supplies.”
Matthias pointed to the two boats waiting in the river behind his. “We have plenty more for the soldiers in Chattanooga.”
Braydon eyed the boats and then smiled. “I’ve been looking for a way to get us back to town.”
Sergeant Braydon commanded six of his soldiers to embark on the first boat and they slipped easily into the spaces that once held boxes. The other soldiers divided up to ride on the other two boats. With their muskets honed on the rocky cliffs and trees, the crew shipped their oars and rowed for another two hours without confrontation, into the town of Chattanooga.
At the river’s edge, ragged clusters of men greeted them. Their clothing was no longer recognizable as uniforms, their cheeks sallow from hunger. The soldiers they’d met earlier began to unload the boats before they docked, and Faust and Joseph joined
them in handing boxes of food to the waiting men who then sat down on the shore and devoured the contents.
Matthias stepped out of the boat, marveling at all God had done, marveling that He had brought them into the town safely under the cover of the fog. At that moment, Matthias had never been so grateful to be part of the Inspirationist community. Their sacrifices were different than the sacrifices of those who enlisted to serve their country, but they offered what they believed God required of them.
Faust pushed him forward. “Tell them your people gave them this food.”
Matthias stuck his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. “We were only the hands, like all of these men passing out the food. It was God who provided it.”
Faust gave him an odd look, one that Matthias was beginning to grow used to in the world outside Amana. “Don’t you want them to know about your Kolonie?”
“I want them to know that God hasn’t forgotten them.”
Matthias watched the men on the shore, wrapped in woolen blankets as they ate. For the rest of his life, he would continue to fight—but not with weapons. He would fight to help those in need.
A heart full of pleasure is better than gold,
I would not exchange it for riches untold.
Author Unknown
Chapter Thirty-Two
Plunk.
Amalie flew up on her bed and listened. The wind rattled her window this first night of the new year, but nothing else hit the glass. She pulled her quilt up to her neck, but she couldn’t rest her head back on her pillows. Not with her heart leaping inside her chest like a candle’s flame.
Night after night, she’d dreamt about a stone hitting her window, but nothing except tree limbs had banged against it in well over a month. Winter was upon them now, snow crusting the streets and rooftops, and with the long nights, she dreamed more often. Matthias Roemig had taken over most of these dreams.
All those years that she’d spent with Matthias along with Friedrich. She’d loved Friedrich back then, but she cared for Matthias as well—as a friend and a brother. Something had happened inside her heart during the weeks he’d been away. She couldn’t explain it nor did she know if she wanted to, but she desperately wanted Matthias to return to Amana. To stay true to their Savior and to the community…and to her.
Love Finds You in Amana Iowa Page 24