Love Finds You in Amana Iowa (23 page)

In spite of the Union losses more than three weeks ago, they were marching around Pigeon Mountain again. General Rosecrans was intent on driving the Confederates out of Georgia like he had in Tennessee. The last skirmish had crippled their regiment, but not the brigade. And according to their new sergeant, the enemy had been hurt even more. He hadn’t seen the fall of the enemy, but perhaps it was because he was running the other way.

Even in their weakened state, their company would keep going through Georgia, driving the retreating Confederates southward until there was no one left to fight. They would take the South in this last battle and end the war.

A loud cry rippled down the hill in front of them, a thousand voices screaming in frightful glee. The yell sent goose bumps down his back and arms. There was no turning back for the 28th Iowa Infantry. The Confederates were coming.

The sergeant shouted above the roar. “You ready, soldiers?”

He wasn’t ready, but it was too late to change his mind. Jonah nodded at him, and Friedrich stood taller as the Rebel soldiers swarmed like bees at the base of the hill, their guns poised in front of them. He didn’t know where they’d come from, but it didn’t matter. They were still screaming, running up the slope with a hatred of mind and soul.

At least it sounded like hatred. How many of them were as terrified as he was?

The scars seared on Joseph’s arm flashed through his mind, the humiliation on the man’s face. He was fighting for Joseph and for children like little Eli who had their entire lives in front of them enjoy to freedom. He couldn’t turn back now. He had to fight.

He straightened his back and joined the trailing voices of soldiers who finished the song.

The flag of our country is floating on high.

We’ll stand by that flag till we conquer or die.

The Rebels streamed down the hills on every side of the valley now like a thunderous waterfall that threatened to drown them all. Jonah and dozens of soldiers shot back at the enemy on every side of Friedrich, but Friedrich didn’t know which way to shoot. He didn’t want to hit one of his fellow soldiers, nor did he want to hit a Rebel.

God help me,
he whispered. The country he loved was about to annihilate itself, killing off thousands and thousands of its sons in one bloody battle.

The Union soldiers clumped together as they marched across the valley, facing their enemy as one, but the layers of the outer soldiers began to fall until Friedrich and Jonah were both on the front line. In front of him, Rebels continued to stream down the hill.

He stepped over the bodies of his comrades, but he couldn’t think about their death in this moment. Later he would have time to think over all that had happened here, but now he had to protect the men around him. A Rebel charged toward him, and he aimed his gun at the man’s legs. The soldier went down with a cry.

Friedrich’s eyes watered as he ripped open another cartridge with his teeth and stuffed it down the barrel of his gun. He hated this—the yelling and the killing and the destruction of so many. Death was all around him, the love of God seemingly far away.

Choking in the smoke and gunpowder, he moved forward.

Someone grasped his elbow, and he looked down into the face of a boy. Sixteen maybe. His eyes were wide with fright, his leg drenched with red.

“Help.” The boy coughed as he clung to his knee. “Please.”

Then he collapsed onto the chest of another soldier, a Rebel who had departed this world. Friedrich glanced at the forest around him, at the madness of the fighting, and all the men falling down.

When he looked back at his feet, he didn’t see the boy’s gray uniform. The soldier was supposed to be his enemy, but looking into his face, all Friedrich saw was a brother.

Bending over, Friedrich picked up the boy and carried him up the hill toward the rear of the Union brigade, away from the fighting. A life was a life, and if this boy was willing to fight for his, then so would Friedrich.

Friedrich collapsed behind a cropping of rocks, laying the boy beside him. Friedrich wanted to fight for freedom, for Joseph and the others, but in this moment, with bullets whizzing by him and cannonballs exploding on the ground, the Spirit urged him to protect his injured brother. He wouldn’t leave the boy until the battle was over, not until an ambulance took him to a hospital.

“What’s your name?” Friedrich yelled above the clamor.

“Taylor,” the boy shouted back, his words ending in a cough that seemed to paralyze him. “Taylor Barnes.”

Taylor wasn’t much younger than his sister or Inspirationist boys like Niklas Keller. He wondered if the boy had been conscripted into this fight, like Friedrich, or if he’d volunteered. Either way, he should grow up with his family, wherever he was from. He had to live.

Friedrich turned his shotgun, pointing it toward anyone who dared to attempt to hurt this boy. This time he wouldn’t run away from the fight like he had before. He would follow Sergeant Mitchell’s lead and take a wounded man with him to safety when the fighting was done.

Taylor squeezed his leg again, balled up in pain. As Friedrich bent to comfort him, a shot of pain seared his back. The fire lasted only a moment, and then he saw a dim light through the dark cloud of gunpowder.

Taylor shook his arm, crying out, but his voice sounded like it was tunneled. Then he heard Jonah Henson’s voice, calling his name.

But it was too late to answer him.

The hazy light over Friedrich grew brighter, overcoming the darkness, and the heat seemed to disappear along with the despair. Peace enveloped him and cradled him like a child as he slipped away in the beauty and the warmth of Christ’s everlasting light.

My Savior, be Thou near to me
When death is at my door.
Bernard of Clairvaux, Paul Gerhardt

Steam hissed out of the passenger train’s engine, its brakes squealing as it slowed to a halt. Homestead’s platform was packed with women in calico dresses and men with plain shirts and straw hats. When the train stopped, Matthias could see the people inside the car, noses pressed against the windows as they saw their new home for the first time.

He should be elated this morning at the thought of finally seeing Hilga, but his stomach felt bitter instead. He wanted to welcome the Vinzenz family, the entire family, but the thought of seeing their daughter terrified him.

He was a wretch. From the time he was a child, the Vinzenz family had been nothing but kind to him. Today, instead of being exhilarated at the possibility of seeing them again, he dreaded it.

Some of the people around him waved. Others clapped quietly and a few people were even crying. Every time they welcomed their Ebenezer sisters and brothers to Iowa, it meant they were one step closer to becoming a whole community again. In a year’s time, they would no longer be a divided society.

As they waited for the men and women to emerge, Matthias scanned the crowded platform and saw Amalie standing beside Niklas Keller. As he eyed the two of them, the familiar feelings of jealousy tugged inside him, the same way he had felt when she and Friedrich used to slip off together in Ebenezer.

He refocused his gaze on the train, trying to refocus his frustration as well.

Was he going to spend the rest of his life tormented by Amalie? Or allowing himself to be tormented by her? He had fled temptation when he volunteered to be one of the first carpenters to move to Iowa, and for three years he had been safe from his feelings, only reminded of his weakness when Friedrich wanted to talk about the woman he was going to marry or about the fun they’d had as children in Ebenezer with Amalie at their side.

He shook his head, forcing himself not to steal another glance at them. No matter his feelings, he must focus on the arrival of the Vinzenz family today. Amalie was allowed to talk to Niklas Keller if she wanted. Niklas was two years away from twenty-four anyway. Amalie was too old for him.

The train door opened in front of him, and the first person to step down the stairs was Louise Vinzenz. The woman who’d been like a mother to him for twenty-one years.

“Mama,” he called out as he rushed to her.

Louise was a large woman with an even larger heart. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight, and his shoulder dampened with her tears.

When she stepped back from him, still holding his shoulders with her hands, tears swam in her dark-blue eyes. “Has he really gone to war?”

“I’m—I’m so sorry.”

She gave him a long look, like she was searching within him. The crowds seemed to quiet around him as they blended into a blur. “This is not your fault, Matthias.”

He shook his head, wanting to make her understand how sorry he was. “I tried to talk him out of it.”

“There was nothing you could say to stop him.” She wiped the tears that wet her sagging cheeks. “It is that stubborn streak that runs through the entire Vinzenz line of men. It parked itself in Friedrich and won’t let him go.”

More people followed her off the train, grasping hands and shoulders clustered around them. Louise glanced around the people, searching. “Where is Amalie?”

Before Matthias could direct her toward Amalie, she was standing beside him.

“I’m right here, Sister Louise.”

Louise wrapped Amalie in her arms. “I wish you’d stop calling me sister and start calling me Mama like Matthias does. In no time at all, I will be your mother.”

Amalie stepped away from her and tried to smile. “How is my mother?”

“She’s fine, dear,” Louise said as she patted Amalie’s shoulders. “She misses you, of course.”

Matthias saw the glimpse of hurt in Amalie’s eyes. Salome Wiese had never spent much time with her daughter when Matthias and Amalie were children. Sister Salome was always too busy working as a midwife to care for her only child. He wondered how it was with Amalie’s parents today, but it was none of his business.

“Oh, there she is.”

He broke his gaze from Amalie’s face as Louise reached for Hilga’s hand and helped her daughter down to the platform. He could feel the stares of people around him, waiting to see how he greeted her.

Amalie was beside him, Hilga in front of him. And all he wanted to do was run away.

Instead of running, he nodded at Hilga. She looked as pretty as he remembered her to be, even in her plain dress. Her honey-colored hair was tucked under her black cap, the ribbon tied under her chin. Her blue eyes met his briefly before her gaze fluttered to the ground.

He wanted to feel something, even the slightest twinge of his heart, but there was nothing except warmth at receiving her and her family.

He cleared his throat. “
Willkommen.”

She still didn’t meet his eye. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He should say something else to her, inquire about her trip, but asking about her trip seemed so formal. He should be telling her how much he missed her, that he loved her. But he couldn’t lie, not to himself or to her.

Niklas Keller joined them, and Louise hugged him and then the person beside him. “Oh, it is so good to see all of you.”

Members of their society poured out of the train now, hugging their loved ones and hauling luggage. No one seemed to be looking at him or Hilga any longer. It would be the perfect time to whisper something to her, but there were still no words for him to say.

She deserved so much more than him. A man who was speechless, not because he was confused but because he was completely enthralled with her.

Even as Amalie and Niklas scooted around him to talk to Hilga, he seemed frozen in place. In his failure to muster up some enthusiasm at welcoming Hilga, he’d made all of them uncomfortable.

He was an idiot.

The last person off the train was Carl Vinzenz. His hat was tipped low on his forehead, and in his eyes was a mix of happiness and sorrow.

He clasped Matthias’s hand. “At least one of my sons is here to greet me.”

“Friedrich wanted to be here.”

Carl looked back and forth between Matthias and the crowd surrounding his daughter. He seemed oblivious to how uncomfortable Matthias felt and to the silent gulf between him and Hilga. “We need to find you two a private place so you can reacquaint yourselves.”

“Oh, no—” he stuttered. “Hilga has so many friends to see.”

“How far is it to Amana?”

Matthias nodded toward the woods behind the platform. “Three miles.”

“Hilga.” Her father edged through the wall of people to retrieve his daughter.

Matthias eyed the forest behind the station. Everything within him wanted to run, all the way back to Amana, to the safety of his work on the kitchen house, but if he ran, he would still have to face Carl and Hilga on the other side. No matter how difficult this was, he would stay and do what was required of him.

Seconds later, Carl returned with his only daughter and a smile plastered so thick across his face that it looked like it might crack into pieces. Hilga wasn’t smiling.

“I’m tired, Papa.”

“A walk will be good for you,” Carl insisted. “A long, leisurely walk.”

Matthias stared at the man who had been like a father to him. Some of the betrothed men and women stole moments together before they wed, but no man and woman in their society were supposed to be alone before they married. What was he supposed to do when an elder instructed him to walk alone with his daughter, through the forest?