Love Finds You in Amana Iowa (21 page)

“I wasn’t talking about marriage, but just suppose,” Sophia continued. “Do you think Matthias would wait a year to marry me?”

She shook her head. “He’s already planning to wed this fall.”

Sophia dropped the plate in her hand, and the ceramic shattered in pieces across the floor. Before either of them could speak, Henriette ran in from the dining room with her broom in hand. She waved the handle toward the floor.

“What are you doing?”

Sophia eyed Amalie like it was her fault, but Amalie didn’t answer the question for Sophia. Instead she took another plate out of the tepid water and dried it.

Sophia held up a hand, lathered with soap. “It slipped out of my fingers.”

“There’s a reason God gave you two hands, Sophia.”

Sophia put both hands behind her.

With an irritated glance at Amalie, Henriette swept up the broken plate and dumped the pieces outside in the trash barrel. As she marched back toward the dining room, she swiveled to face them again. “Do you think you two can avoid breaking anything else while I finish sweeping under the benches?”

Sophia muttered that she’d be more careful, but Amalie didn’t respond. She wasn’t responsible for breaking a dish. Sophia and her ridiculous expectations were responsible.

Brother Schaube had said the kitchen house would be finished soon, and she could hardly wait until she could begin doing dishes in her own sink and cook on her own stove. She would motivate her assistants, but she would never berate them. As long as she had women like Karoline working with her, there would be no reason to ever reprimand them. But if she had an assistant like Sophia…

She didn’t know what she would do.

When they were finished cleaning the dishes, she would take Matthias a snack. He might not like her presence, but he never returned the food she brought him.

Beside her, Sophia scrubbed a plate so hard that Amalie thought she might break it as well. “Be careful,” Amalie said as she reached for it. She slipped the dish into the rinse water.

“Who is he going to marry?” Sophia’s whisper sounded more like a hiss.

“I thought everyone knew.”

“We all knew you were engaged,” Sophia said. “Friedrich couldn’t stop himself from talking about you, but Matthias—Matthias has never mentioned leaving behind someone in Ebenezer.”

Amalie sighed. That’s what happened when you maintained communities in two different places. Rumors blazed across the miles while the truth was often blocked at the state lines.

“He’s intending to marry Friedrich’s sister.”

“Hilga?” Sophia asked as she put the last dish into the water. “She’s a year older than me.”

Amalie nodded. “Marrying age.”

“Why didn’t he tell us he was engaged?”

“Did you ever ask him?”

“Of—of course not. It’s not a question one asks.”

“It might have been a good question, though, before you decided you wanted to marry him.”

And must thou suffer here and there
Cling but firmer to His care.
Paul Gerhardt

“Matthias?” Amalie called from the open doorway of the kitchen house.

His heart lurched at the sound of her voice and then he sighed as he moved away from the board he’d been sawing.

He’d done everything he could to convince Amalie to leave him alone, yet she persisted in bringing him food when he missed a meal. Not that he didn’t appreciate the food—he did—but he didn’t want her to be the one bringing him meals. He’d tried to make it clear to her without being cruel. Perhaps he hadn’t been clear enough.

When Amalie stepped inside the frame of the house, she slipped her sunbonnet off her head, over her shoulders. Her light-brown hair fell in light wisps under her cap, escaping from the bun at the nape of her neck. It was as if she didn’t even know how beautiful she was.

He cleared his throat. “Amalie—”

“You missed breakfast again this morning.”

“I woke up late.”

“Then you missed lunch as well.”

“It’s none of your business when I eat or if I eat.”

She set her basket on the sawhorse. “I’m not here to bother you, Matthias. Just to make sure you get some food.”

He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Well, that’s good because all I have is ham and bread today anyway.” She unwrapped the food. His stomach rumbled. “Maybe Niklas would want it for a snack.”

“I’ll eat it,” Niklas called from behind him.

When two of the workers laughed at Niklas, Matthias reached into the basket and snatched up the food. Amalie tried—and failed miserably—to hide her grin.

“I’ll take it to Niklas,” he said.

Her smile fell. “You need to eat,” she whispered to him.

He didn’t want to hear the concern in her voice, didn’t want her to care.

He pushed her toward the door so the other men couldn’t hear them talk. It was enough for him to see her in the eleven prayer meetings they had every week and at breakfast and supper when he must eat. He didn’t want her visiting him at the kitchen house too.

Amalie reached for her basket, draping the handle over her arm, and together they stepped outside, away from the building and ears of the other workers.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You can’t come here anymore, Amalie.”

“Why not?”

“You’re—you’re distracting my men from their work.”

Red streaked up her face as she glanced back toward the door. She hesitated for a moment before she began speaking again. “I’ll stop coming if you’ll stop working long enough to eat at the dining room.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Amalie.”

“Heaven forbid if you were,” she said. “I can just drop the basket off at the door. I won’t disturb you or your men.”

Irritation flamed within him. He had done everything he could to discourage her, but she wouldn’t be deterred.

“I don’t want you around here.” His words came out as a growl, but he didn’t care.

“Someone needs to feed you.”

“I don’t want it to be you!”

Her lips pinched together, but she didn’t say anything.

His heart seemed to tear within him. He wished Amalie were bringing the meals because she wanted to see him, but even that thought was wrong, terribly wrong. What would Friedrich think if he knew he’d even entertained that thought?

Dear God, Amalie had to leave him alone. More than anything, he strove to be an honorable man, loyal to his community and his friends. His loyalty to Friedrich was waning, though, stripped away a little more every time Amalie showed up with her basket of food. He was a traitor, flirting in his mind with Amalie while his friend fought battles for their country.

Why wouldn’t she just stop? Stop bringing him food, stop smiling at him, stop being so persistent and irritatingly kind.

He leaned forward. “I keep asking you to not deliver my food, but you ignore my request.”

“Because you need to eat.”

He shook his head. “No, Amalie. You are doing this because you want me to finish your kitchen house.”

“I’m doing it for Friedrich.” She glanced down at the hem of her dress and then looked back at him. “He’d never forgive me if I didn’t care for you while he’s gone.”

“You think you’re taking care of me for Friedrich’s sake?” Heat crawled up his face. “Do you even realize how selfish you are?”

Her lip quivered, and he knew she was about to explode. “Selfish?”

“You are pretending to help me, but you are really doing it so you can get out of Henriette Koch’s kitchen. The faster I work, the faster you will be working in here.”

“I’m not—” she replied, but the confidence was gone from her voice.

“And you are feeding me to get accolades from your fiancé.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he could see the anger in them.
Good.

“Not only because of that,” she said.

“Then tell me why.”

“You’re my brother, Matthias, same as the rest of these men. We are supposed to take care of each other.”

“There you are.” Brother Schaube rushed around the corner, waving a piece of paper in his hands. “I’ve been looking for both of you.”

Amalie crossed her arms, the basket draped at her side.

Matthias glanced at the paper but couldn’t read it. “Did something happen to Friedrich?”

He shook his head. “It’s from Ebenezer. The Vinzenz family and fifteen others have started their journey.”

“They’re coming—” Amalie whispered.

Matthias didn’t say anything.

“Will you be ready in a week?” Brother Schaube asked.

Matthias glanced back at the building. The faster he was finished with this building, the better. “It might be two weeks.”

Brother Schaube nodded. “We will make do until it is complete.”

As Brother Schaube turned away, Matthias turned back to the door. “Amalie—”

The elder turned around abruptly, his smile gone.

“Sister Amalie,” Matthias said.

She glared at him. “What?”

He waited until Brother Schaube was out of sight, and then he leaned down to her.

“Don’t come back until your kitchen is done.”

Turning, he stomped back inside. If that didn’t make her leave him alone, he didn’t know what would.

* * * * *

Lee and Gordon’s Mill was located on the West Chickamauga Creek—named the River of Death by the Cherokees. Friedrich and Sergeant Mitchell and the other four soldiers had dodged Confederate brigades and skirmish lines up and down the creek until they found where the Federals had set up camp. And Friedrich found Jonah Henson.

Friedrich embraced his friend. “I thought we’d lost you back on Pigeon Mountain.”

“And I thought we had lost you,” Jonah said. “I saw you helping Earl and the others.”

“Have you seen Earl?”

Jonah nodded and directed him toward a tent that had been set up along the edge of the property. They combed through a row of cots until they found him,. Thank God, someone had gotten Earl away from the fight.

The man’s eyes brightened when he recognized Friedrich, the mocking gone from his lips.

“Darn bullet got me in the leg,” Earl said, holding up his cast. “But the doc said they don’t have to saw it off.”

Friedrich sat down on the edge of the cot, grateful the man was still alive and they hadn’t had to amputate his leg. Maybe it was better to wound a man than kill him.

“They are sending me back to Iowa tomorrow,” Earl continued.

“Your family will be glad to have you home.”

“I wish I could have stayed longer.”

Friedrich gave Earl a long sip of water from his canteen.

“Why did you save my life?” the man asked.

“God gave me the strength to do it.”

Earl shook his head. “I don’t deserve God’s mercy.”

“None of us deserve His mercy,” Friedrich said. “And yet He bestows it on us willingly.”

Earl leaned his head back against his pillow. “I will forever be grateful.”

Sergeant Mitchell marched into the tent. “Get some rest, Private Vinzenz.”

“I want to spend time with my friend.”

“You’ll have to spend time with him after the war,” the sergeant said. “We’re marching out of here early tomorrow. The Confederates are running south, scared as kittens, and we’re gonna chase them out of Georgia this time around.”

Friedrich slowly stood to his feet. The Rebel cry was still vivid in his mind. He didn’t think the Confederates were scared, not like kittens anyway. More like cougars backed against a wall.

But if they were sent to battle in the morning, he had no choice. And if they won this one, with the much larger brigade of men, they would be continuing south to take back the southern states for the Union.

“I wish I could take your place and fight,” Earl said.

Friedrich nodded and then turned to walk away. He wished he could go home.

No enemy can steal the wealth thy comforts give,
The inner peace I feel while I in Thee do live.
Eberhard Ludwig Gruber

The breeze rushed through the open windows in the great room where the Community of True Inspiration met each night for
Nachtgebet,
their evening prayers and worship. Matthias wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve as the cool air refreshed his tired body. He opened his hymnal and began to sing with the others, but his mind wasn’t on the lyrics. Instead his gaze wandered to the other side of the aisle where Amalie sat, singing the familiar hymn with her eyes closed.