Judith Miller - [Daughters of Amana 01] (12 page)

Rudolf had been mistaken.

Carl Froehlich didn’t move into Oma Reich’s rooms the following week. He moved in the following day. I was delighted. Not because he’d moved in, but because I didn’t think I possessed the willpower to keep my promise to Rudolf. Although I’d not yet discovered my best qualities, I did know many of my failings. And keeping secrets was one of them.

The day was warm and the air cooled a modicum as we neared the millrace that powered the woolen and flour mills for the village. Probably just my imagination, but the mere sight of water cooled me on even the hottest of days. Johanna and I were on our return from delivering the midafternoon repast to the garden workers, a task Sister Muhlbach had yet to reassign. I was thankful, but I knew Johanna disliked the twice-daily trips.

A budding lilac branch stretched into the path, and I lifted it to my nose. “What do you think of him?”

Johanna arched her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Carl, of course.”

“I don’t think about him at all. Why should I?”

“Because he’s a good age for you. He’s tall and very good-looking. Your father appears to like him, or he wouldn’t have agreed to have him come to work in the barns with him. He’d make a perfect husband.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing.”

She lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I haven’t had any such thoughts. I know it’s difficult for you to believe, but marriage is not what most young women in Amana think about.”

I skipped ahead, then twirled around and faced Johanna as we walked across the bridge that spanned the millrace near the woolen mill. “What else is there to think about? We can’t go shopping or discuss the latest fashions.”

“You could think about ways you can serve God. You could think about ways to help others. You could think about ways to better accomplish your work. You could memorize Bible passages—a good way to avoid dwelling upon marriage or young men.”

The beautiful spring day begged human appreciation, but I’d been a complete failure at convincing Johanna to slow her pace and enjoy the day. “When I lived in Chicago, I would spend entire days doing nothing but wandering the aisles of the stores along State Street. Mother and I would discover the latest arrivals from Paris or London. We’d compare the quality of fabric and lace or inspect the latest hats and gloves, and then we’d move on to the next store.”

“Did you see any of our Amana fabrics in the stores where you shopped?” She tipped her head and met my gaze. There was a moment of hesitation. “My brother, Wilhelm, was a salesman of our woolens and calicos before he left Amana. He would go to the cities, both large and small, and sell our fabrics. Like you, he is very fond of Chicago.”

“Is? Does your brother live in Chicago?”

“Yes.”

“Wait!” I planted my feet on the dusty road, unwilling to move until she answered my questions. “Did he run away?”

With a glance over her shoulder, she waved me forward. “No. He was a grown man who could make his own choice.”

Sadness weighed my shoulders into a slump. “So you’ve never seen him again.”

“Of course I’ve seen him. He comes to visit occasionally. If he ever wanted to return, he could do so. This isn’t a prison. Wilhelm was an adult, and he chose to leave. If he ever wants to return, he will be welcomed back.”

Johanna’s explanation sounded rehearsed. I was certain there must be more to Wilhelm’s departure. “Were your parents very displeased with him?”

“We won’t speak of this any further, Berta. Hurry up or Sister Muhlbach will assign us extra duties.”

CHAPTER 9

Johanna Ilg

Not again!
Ever since Carl had moved into Oma Reich’s rooms, my parents had been inviting him to visit in our parlor each evening after prayer meeting. And now my mother had invited him to join us Sunday afternoon, as well. “I don’t know why he has to be with us every free moment.”

My mother frowned and touched her index finger to her lips. “Hush, Johanna. Carl will hear you.”

“He and Vater are discussing repairs for the barn. They don’t hear a word we say.” I leaned close to her ear. “I’m going to my room to mend my stockings.”

“You will stay here and behave like a proper young woman. I think Berta’s rude behavior is beginning to have an effect on you.”

“I don’t see why I must be present when you’re the one who initiates these visits. Carl and Vater discuss farm equipment and the barns. Why must I listen to such uninspiring talk?”

Berta’s influence couldn’t be blamed for my conduct, but she had certainly questioned Carl’s frequent visits. Ever the romantic, she wanted to believe Carl was madly in love with me. She still didn’t believe the visits had been initiated by my mother. I’d given up any attempt to convince her otherwise.

My mother sighed. “Carl is lonely and has no family here in Main Amana. We are his neighbors, and your Vater is his supervisor. It is only right that we make him feel welcome.”

“But it was his choice to leave High. If he didn’t want to be alone, why didn’t he stay there—or bring his Mutter with him?” Our hushed whispers had finally captured the men’s attention, and my father looked in our direction.

“What interesting talk are we missing?” His eyes twinkled with curiosity.

“Just women’s talk, Vater. Don’t let us interrupt you.”

Grasping the armrests of the overstuffed chair, he pushed to a stand. I knew all hope of further discussion with my mother had come to an end. “There is a meeting of the Bruderrat that I must attend, but Carl has offered to take the two of you fishing this afternoon.”

Fishing? With Carl? I had always enjoyed fishing with Wilhelm, but the idea of spending the remainder of the afternoon with a veritable stranger didn’t appeal. I turned toward my mother. Surely she could read the silent plea in my eyes. Surely she would refuse.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Mother folded her hands in her lap and preened.

Sounds wonderful?
I’d never before heard her speak in such a manner. Was she attempting to impress Carl?

“Thank you, Carl, but I have mending to finish. I’m sure Mutter will keep you company.”

“You can bring your mending along, Johanna. I know you probably don’t want to touch worms or handle fish. I’ll find a shady spot where you can sit and enjoy the breeze while you finish your stitching.”

“Ja. That’s a gut plan.” My father gathered his Bible and hat. “You go with them, Johanna. And if you finish your sewing, maybe Carl can teach you how to catch a fish.” He winked at me before he turned and opened the door.

I’d been left no choice. I couldn’t disobey. There was little doubt my father held high regard for Carl. The two of them had forged an excellent friendship, and they worked well together—as if they’d known each other for a lifetime. Without warning, realization struck and I understood what was happening. Little by little Carl was becoming Wilhelm’s replacement. Eventually Carl would become the son my father had hoped for. That’s why Father was sending us fishing with Carl. Soon Carl would be inserted into every part of our lives—everywhere that Wilhelm should have been.

Well, Carl would not replace Wilhelm. Not for me. We were sister and brother, connected by blood, born of the same parents. No one could replace Wilhelm. The very thought caused a tear to form in the corner of my eye. Before the others could notice, I swiped it away with the back of my hand.

“I’ll get my fishing pole from my room and meet you on the front porch. Is five minutes enough time?” Carl’s broad smile caused a twinge of guilt. I shouldn’t blame him for what my father was doing. He couldn’t know he was being groomed to become a substitute son. Then again, maybe he would cherish the idea.

“I will need at least ten minutes.”

He flinched at my terse reply. “Whatever you need will be fine. I’ll wait outside.”

I should have tempered my curt response, but I still hadn’t completely digested all that was happening. Besides, I needed to visit the outhouse and then collect my mending.

It was closer to fifteen minutes by the time Mother and I finally gathered all our items. In addition to her handwork, she decided we would need a blanket to keep our skirts free of grass stains or dirt. Obviously, she didn’t plan to fish, either.

After a quick inspection of the items, Mother said, “I think this is everything we should need.”

A tap on the front door let me know we’d taken longer than Carl had anticipated. “Coming.” I yanked open the door and took a backward step. “Berta! I wasn’t expecting to see
you
.”

She grinned. “I know. Carl’s at the buggy talking to Rudolf. He said you’re going fishing.”

“We are.” My mother came alongside me, the blanket and her sewing basket tucked in one arm.

Berta clapped her hands. “Oh good. You’re going, too, Sister Ilg. My mother said Rudolf and I could go along if either you or Brother Ilg would be acting as a chaperone.”

“Well, I—”

Clearly Berta had taken my mother by surprise. She shot me a please-help-me look, but I squelched any feelings of sympathy. When I’d sent out my silent plea only a short time ago, she had ignored me. Besides, having Berta and Rudolf along would ease my discomfort. Rudolf could fish with Carl, and Berta would keep us entertained with her antics.

Before my mother could regain her composure, I said, “Of course. You’re welcome to come along, Berta. And Rudolf, too.”

My mother squeezed my arm. “I’m not certain that’s what . . . Well, I don’t think—”

“Carl will enjoy having Rudolf as a fishing companion, don’t you think, Mutter?”

“I don’t think either of us should speak for Carl. We can’t be sure what he would enjoy.”

“Oh, Carl said he didn’t mind,” Berta interjected. “We’ve already asked him.”

Mother frowned and heaved a sigh. By day’s end Mother would understand that dealing with Berta was not so easy—the girl could transform any event to her own liking.

When I saw the buggy waiting in front of our house, I knew Carl and Father had made the fishing arrangements in advance. Normally the buggy wouldn’t have been used for such a frivolous outing. And though Father seldom took advantage, using a wagon or buggy was a privilege of his position as a farm Baas. Either Carl or my father had hitched the horses earlier in the day. Yes, this had been arranged earlier. But I couldn’t understand why my parents would push me toward Carl. Our religion clearly stated that whenever possible, it was better to remain unmarried. Could my father’s desire to replace Wilhelm be so strong that he would make no effort to mask his efforts?

Berta had tucked herself beside Rudolf in the rear seat. Father hadn’t planned on five passengers or he would have selected a larger buggy. Berta scooted closer to Rudolf and waved to my mother. “There’s room back here for you, Sister Ilg.

“Or for me,” I said, approaching the buggy.

Berta shook her head with such vehemence, her cap nearly dislodged from her head. “Your mother is a better fit.”

I pressed my hands down the sides of my hips. “Are you saying I’m too large to fit back there with you?”

“No, of course not, but . . .”

My mother inched around me. “I will sit between Rudolf and Berta. You climb up front with Carl.” She motioned for Berta to step down. “Hurry now, Berta, or we’ll waste the afternoon getting ourselves arranged.”

A frown stretched across Berta’s face, but she followed Mother’s instruction. I didn’t know why, but irritation niggled at me. Perhaps because Berta had given in so easily and I knew she would have argued with me.

As he rounded the buggy, Carl ran his palm down the side of the horse’s muzzle in an affectionate gesture. “Let me help you up,” he said as he approached me. His voice was gentle.

He grasped my elbow, and a surprising tingle raced up my arm. I chided myself for such foolishness and wriggled onto the buggy seat. With practiced ease, Carl hoisted himself up beside me. His arm brushed against me as he flicked the reins. Another shiver coursed through my body, and when he glanced at me, my stomach fluttered. I turned away, fearful my embarrassment would be obvious.

“Your cheeks are as red as a ripe tomato. You should have worn your sunbonnet instead of only your cap.” Berta giggled and squeezed my shoulder. “Unless it’s something other than the sun that’s causing your rosy complexion.”

I wanted to throttle her. The girl took far too much pleasure in causing others embarrassment. “I’m fine, thank you. My sunbonnet is in my sewing basket. I’ll put it on once we arrive at the river.”

“I’ll find a place in the shade for you to sit,” Carl said. “In springtime, the sunshine can cause sunburn before you know it.”

Between the two of them, they’d made me sound like a frail flower that might wilt in the out-of-doors. “I am accustomed to working in the sunshine, Carl. I help with the onion and potato harvest, and I’m even able to hang clothes on the line without fainting.”

He lowered his chin. “I am sorry if I offended you. It wasn’t my intention. I only wanted to offer protection.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t need protection, that I’d managed just fine for all of my twenty-one years, that I was quite capable of finding my own shade, but something stopped me. Perhaps it was the pained look in his eyes. Or perhaps it was the memory of his hand on my elbow. “Thank you, Carl. I appreciate your concern.”