Love Finds You in Amana Iowa (22 page)

When she opened her eyes, Matthias looked back toward the front of the room. He didn’t even realize the song had ended until one of the elders led out in prayer. He bowed his head.

Most nights he controlled his eyes through sheer effort, not turning even once to look at the row across from him, but he couldn’t seem to help himself tonight. He overcame physical challenges every day, but lately it seemed that mental discipline was proving much more troublesome. In his weakness, he kept slipping to a place he didn’t want to go.

When the short service ended, he stepped through the men’s doorway. Darkness had begun to fall across the village, and everyone, including Amalie, should be on their way to their rooms to rest for the night.

In Henriette’s kitchen he found a tin of coffee and a plate with sliced ham and cheese. After Amalie brought him his noon meal, he’d skipped supper—he didn’t have it within him to face her again today—but at least he could eat now.

He started with the food and then took a long sip of the coffee. Every night the women left coffee on the kitchen table for the night watchman, but this was the first time he remembered them leaving a snack as well. He took another sip of coffee and told himself that it was Henriette or Sophia who thought he might need the food.

No matter how tired he was, it was his turn to spend the next four hours walking through the village to make sure a fire didn’t break out while the community slept. John Keller would take his place as a watchman around one so he could have a few hours of sleep before the morning work began again. Until John came, he had to keep himself alert.

Several lanterns glowed in the rooms above the street as he strolled down the center of Amana. Most of the village was asleep by nine. During the week, bedtime and worship were the only times that the people in Amana were idle with their hands so they could reflect on the day and offer rest to their bodies.

The night’s quiet was usually a welcome relief from the busy din of the Amana workdays, but tonight, instead of reflecting on the blessings God had given him and the work he wanted to accomplish tomorrow, Matthias couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Amalie. Four hours to contemplate his words to her.

He tried to stop thinking about her, her thoughtfulness at taking care of him, and her kindness to feed him. But he couldn’t stop himself.

An involuntary smile crept up his face, and he stopped walking, trying to purge the wicked thoughts from his mind. He would do everything he could to finish the kitchen house in less than two weeks so he could move on to another project, another village even. If they moved him to, say, South Amana, he might never have to see Amalie again.

He shivered in the darkness. He couldn’t move to another village, not with the Vinzenz family arriving soon. He wanted to respect the elders and the parents who adopted him into their family, but for the first time in his life, he felt trapped.

What would it be like to leave the Society like Friedrich had done? Run away from the woman he should marry? Run away from the woman he couldn’t have?

The lantern swung in his hands as he resumed his walk toward the woolen mill. He might try to run away from his troubles, but no matter where he went, he would carry them with him.

As he paced up and down the street, he searched the small windows at the top of each building for an orange glow. They’d had only one fire in Amana since they began building almost eight years ago. In the washhouse. The night watchman had rung the bell and people poured out of their homes to extinguish the flames before they spread.

He circled the mill and turned to pace back beside the barn and orchards and then under the dark windows of the residences and shops.

Bigger cities like Buffalo were ridden with crime, but he didn’t walk the streets tonight because of crime in Amana. They didn’t have a single police officer patrolling their streets—they’d never had need of law enforcement and he prayed they never would. All the residents strove to live their lives by the Word of God and the testimonies of their Werkzeuge. Any sin was addressed by the Bruderrath, any discipline administered by them as well.

Usually the discipline meant members were banned from meetings for a season or they were moved back in their seating during services. This form of discipline, along with their personal accountability before God, was enough for members to respect the rules of their authority and to strive to live at peace with their fellow man. They had no need of guns in their community except to hunt and no need of prison cells.

Without much of a threat of fire and no crime, the job of a night watchman was a dull but necessary duty. Matthias’s thoughts were his only companion, and tonight they weren’t good company.

Fireflies playing in the apple orchards, the lights blinking in random discord. Or was it harmony? Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between the two.

His own heart was in discord right now. Hilga and her parents were coming and he didn’t know what to say to them. Three years ago, when he left Ebenezer, Hilga didn’t seem to love him like a woman should love her husband. Even though he’d tried to muster stronger feelings for her, there was nothing inside him except a brotherly love. He’d do just about anything for her, but he didn’t want to marry her.

He could pray diligently that God would fill his heart with feelings for Hilga, but it didn’t seem fair to marry, not until he could devote himself fully to her.

A long time ago he’d confided to Friedrich that he hadn’t developed feelings for Hilga. Friedrich thought Matthias felt like this because of his past abandonment. And he thought Matthias would develop love and trust over a lifetime with Hilga.

Maybe Matthias would always wrestle with his past, but the real reason he didn’t love Hilga was trapped inside of him, like a prisoner in his heart. He didn’t dare tell Friedrich that he was incapable of loving Hilga because he was deeply in love with another woman. Friedrich would insist that he tell him who had captured his attention, and he could never do that.

Passing by Amalie’s kitchen house, Matthias wished he could resume his work tonight instead of walking aimlessly up and down these streets. Niklas was right; he was just as bad as Amalie about losing himself and his problems in his work. But hard work was much easier than confronting these feelings, especially when there was nothing positive to come out of the confrontation.

As he turned at the western edge of town, something screeched in the darkness, and he jumped. They didn’t have criminals in Amana, but Brother Fehr’s collection of peacocks had stopped Matthias’s heart several times. He couldn’t see them tonight, but he could hear them rustle behind their fence. Part of him wanted to screech back at the spoiled birds, but he left the peacocks behind, hiding in the dark, as he walked back through the village.

All the windows were dark in Amana, except one.

As he passed the Koch Kitchen House, his eyes locked on the light flickering in a front window. He watched it closely, telling himself that it was his duty to make sure there wasn’t a fire.

Perhaps it was good that he was supposed to be outside tonight, walking. It wouldn’t be possible for him to sleep right now, not with all the thoughts raging through his mind, electrifying his skin.

He wasn’t thinking about fire though.

He was thinking about Amalie.

* * * * *

Amalie paced across her bedroom, turned, and crossed it again. Did other people in their community think she was selfish as well?

She rubbed her hands in front of her, over and over, until they felt raw. Matthias was wrong. She wasn’t being selfish. God required all of them to care for their brothers and sisters in need; He certainly required it of her. She couldn’t judge other people, but she had to respond when God asked something of her.

While Matthias might not want to be obligated to anyone, he needed to eat. Even so, it was wrong of her to disregard his demand that she leave him to his work.

Why did he have to be so exasperating? Yes, she wanted him to finish the kitchen house quickly so she could work on her own, but it was more than that. She wanted to help him as a friend. A sister in Christ. Someone who’d cared very much for him in their younger years.

Well, she wouldn’t distract him or his men any longer from their work. If Friedrich asked her why she hadn’t helped Matthias, she would tell him the truth. His friend was an idiot.

When she reached the wall, she swiveled again.

When had Matthias become so cruel? It was like he’d lost his heart somewhere between here and New York. Back in Ebenezer, he had always been kind to her. A good friend and brother. After Friedrich asked to marry her, she’d looked forward to having Matthias as a brother, of sorts. She had once thought they would all be grand friends after they married, almost like the days of their childhood. She and Friedrich. Matthias and Hilga. But Matthias made it quite clear that he didn’t want her benevolence or her friendship.

Well, that was fine with her. She certainly didn’t need his friendship and she had things she could do during the minutes of her afternoon break other than bring him food.

Climbing into her bed, Amalie leaned back against the pillows. Even though it was well after nine, she couldn’t sleep.

She retrieved a needle and thread from her nightstand to monogram her pillowcases with her name and newly assigned number so she could send them to the laundry on Monday.

As she stitched, her mind wandered back to the evening meeting. She had stolen a glance over at Matthias as they prayed, his pious head bowed. Perhaps he was praying for forgiveness. If he wasn’t, he should be. She couldn’t understand the state of his heart, so pious during the prayers, while being so cruel to his sister. How could he be so rude to someone who was only trying to help him?

She hoped that if someone saw Friedrich in need on the battlefield, they would help him. Give him food if he needed it or a place to rest. And she hoped Friedrich would be humble enough to accept their offer.

She dropped her needlework into her lap.

Perhaps that was the problem with Matthias. Perhaps he was too proud to allow her to bring him food, like he would be indebted to her for her service. And he was too stubborn to allow her to continue. Someone, other than she, needed to talk to him about humbling himself. She had heard enough ill words from him already, but maybe he would listen to one of the elders or even Friedrich when he returned.

There was nothing wrong with allowing someone to help you.

Our souls they could not capture.
For as a bird from nets released, we have escaped in rapture.
Martin Luther

The foe is before us in battle array,

But let us not waver or turn from the way.

The Lord is our strength and the Union’s our song,

With courage and faith we are marching along.

Blue-clad soldiers surrounded Friedrich as they marched down a hill and into a valley, singing their song of war. But instead of singing about their battle, Friedrich sang under his breath, “O we ain’t gonna thresh no more, no more. We ain’t a gonna thresh no more.”

He was homesick for Amana, aching for his work in the fields and the bounty of delicious food in the kitchen house. Even more, his arms ached for Amalie, and he wished he could spend one day holding her close to him, breathing in the scent of her hair. He never should have left Iowa before he said good-bye to her. Never should have left Amana at all.

The rumble of thunder echoed across the rolling hills and distant mountains, but there were no clouds in the sky. Instead of lightning and showers, the incoming storm would be one of bayonets and rifles and clubbed muskets.

The blast from another cannon echoed through their regiment, and then the hills surrounding them were silent. Friedrich expected the loud noises of battle, but he hadn’t anticipated the quiet. The eerie silence pierced the air, even more than the cannonading.

The singing continued around him, some of the voices strained, but Jonah’s voice sounded upbeat in spite of his fatigue. They’d started marching before sunlight, and the singing kept them marching in sync, in spite of their exhaustion, through the woods and fields.

Our wives and our children we leave in your care,

We feel you will help them with sorrow to bear.

’Tis hard thus to part, but we hope ’twon’t be long,

We’ll keep up our heart as we’re marching along.

The intensity that breathed through Friedrich’s fellow comrades was palpable. Though none of them would admit it, even the most boisterous among them were frightened. Like Friedrich, it was the first real battle for many of them. Some of the soldiers might have kept their hearts strong, but his felt as weak as a willow.

It was good to know that his parents and Matthias and others would care for Amalie if something happened to him, but he wanted to be the one caring for her, for the rest of his life.

“We ain’t gonna thresh no more,” he sang again.

Wind blew through the forest on the valley floor, around the soldiers. A break from the summer heat. Last night he and the others without blankets had been bitterly cold again, trying to get some sleep under the stars, but today men were collapsing with heat exhaustion. He hadn’t had a decent meal since they left camp two days ago, but as he sang, he could almost feel the scythe in his hand, hacking through the grass in the fields. And he could pretend he was back in Amana.