Love Finds You in Amana Iowa (33 page)

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

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

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.

She lifted the walnut box he’d made off her nightstand and held it close to her chest, wondering again what he’d locked inside. Carl Vinzenz or Jonah could probably open it for her, but as much as she wanted to see its contents, she wouldn’t open it until Matthias returned to her.

Weeks had gone by without any word from Matthias or Mr. Faust. Not even a telegram. Every night, their community prayed together that Matthias was safe, wintering with the troops someplace. Last week Jonah returned from Marengo with the news that the Union had won back Chattanooga, and supplies were beginning to trickle into the town. The whole community rejoiced.

She began to scoot back down into her covers. She didn’t dare allow herself to compare her fear of losing Friedrich with her fear that she would lose Matthias, but in the dark hours of the night, when her hands were idle, she was terrified that he would be taken from her as well.

Plunk.

Her heart leapt again at the sound of something hitting her window. It was probably a tree limb, but still, she had to know for certain. Holding her breath, she stole across the bare floor, to the window, and she looked down at the yard below. At the dark form looking back up at her.

Her fingers shaking, she struggled to open the window. Wind blasted her face, her hair swirling around her head. As she pushed her hair back, she squinted into the darkness.

“Who’s there?” she called, her voice hushed.

There was a long pause before he spoke. “I’m home, Amalie.”

She caught herself against the windowsill, her knees wobbling at the sound of the familiar voice.

“Don’t move,” she said, louder this time. She didn’t care if she woke everyone in the residence. Matthias was home!

Amalie buttoned her dress quickly before wrapping her heavy shawl around her shoulders, a scarf around her hair. Securing Matthias’s box inside the folds of her shawl, she rushed down the stairs and out into the night, right into Matthias’s open arms.

She could smell the dust on his collar, feel the soft bristles from the beard he’d grown in Tennessee. And she didn’t want him to let her go. Time seemed to stop for a moment before he held her out in front of him, searching her face in the dim light. “I couldn’t wait until morning to see you.”

“I would have been disappointed if you had.”

“There’s so much to tell you,” he said, but the words faded away. For now, silence was enough.

“Come,” he said gently, reaching for her hand.

It wasn’t until they stepped onto the dirt street that she realized she had forgotten to put on her shoes, but even with the coldness, she didn’t care.