Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania

by Melanie Dobson

  “What is it?” the elder demanded.

  “Several Indians have been spotted near the Nursery.” He glanced at Susanna, seemingly weighing whether he should continue, but he spoke. “They were carrying muskets.”

  “Did they speak to you?”

  He shook his head. “They were just watching.”

  When Christian looked up again, worry replaced the sadness in his face. “We must get the children to safety.”

  This time the elder concurred without using the lot.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Christian waited on the bench as Susanna slipped out of the Saal. The lot had granted her permission to go with him to the Indians.

  He wanted to go back to Tanochtahe and he wanted her companionship, but he was worried for her safety—her safety and her health. She didn’t realize how treacherous a journey like this could be, especially with winter approaching and so many Indians attacking their neighbors. More than he wanted her company, more than he wanted to spend time with her to mend their relationship, he wanted her to be safe.

  But the elders—and the lot—wanted her to go with him, and he had no choice but to honor their direction. It was too late to move the children tonight, but they would move them at first light. And then he and Susanna and the Schmidts would follow Benjamin out of Nazareth. As they snuck out of town, the Indians, they hoped, would be focused on the commotion of moving both the little ones and their belongings.

  When the elders finished the meeting, Edward asked Christian to wait. The laborer left the room with the others, but when he returned, he held a musket in his hand.

  When he handed the gun to Christian, the brass and iron felt cool. He hadn’t held a musket since his short stint in the British Army before he had joined the Brethren.

  He pushed the musket back toward Edward. “I don’t need a gun.”

  Edward held up his hands, refusing to take it back. “Joseph said the Indians were carrying guns.”

  “Perhaps they were hunting.”

  Edward shook his head. “They were making themselves and their weapons known.”

  Christian dropped the gun to his side. “I’m here to tell the Indians about Christ. I can’t kill them.”

  “I don’t want you to kill anyone,” Edward said. “You can shoot over their heads or on the ground or wherever you like, but if they become hostile, we have to protect the children.”

  Sighing, Christian crossed the strap of the musket over his back and walked out the door. He wanted to protect the children, of course, but he’d come to Pennsylvania to share the good news with the Indians, not hurt them. How was he supposed to bear arms against the very men he wanted to save?

  Night had begun to fall when he joined nine of his married brothers for the first shift of guarding the Nursery. As he stood in the darkness, scanning the still forest, he thought about Chief Langoma and his people. Indians had been known to become hostile to other tribes who decided to follow Christ, claiming they had given in to the ways of the white man. Saying they should be fighting the white man instead.

  Did Indians like these warriors stalk their brothers as well, since they embraced the so-called faith of the white men? He prayed that Chief Langoma and his tribe had stayed strong in their faith, even in the face of persecution from their people. And he prayed that he would be able to spend a day or two encouraging them after he and Susanna carried Nathan to them.

  Long before midnight, Susanna lifted Nathan from his crib and held him in her arms. He was almost two now, walking and even talking, but she still felt the urge to protect and care for him like he was a baby. Her baby, even. As the other children in the Nursery slept, she sang one of Lily’s songs to him—a song about a flower budding in the spring, of its strength to face the wind and the rain, of the beauty that emerges once it stands strong. A tiny bud that transforms into a flower.

  A child who would soon become a man.

  Would that man threaten others like his father, or sing like his mother? Would he follow the God of his grandfather, or the many gods of his father?

  If only she could steal Nathan away and protect him from the trials he would face.

  She sat in the rocker and whispered to the sleeping boy. She told him how much his mother loved him and how much she herself loved him as well. How she wished she could keep him and raise him as her own.

  As she looked at his face in the dim light, the black locks of hair curled at his temples, she couldn’t imagine him becoming a warrior. If only there were a way she could stop him from hating the white men, especially those who loved him.

  She placed Nathan carefully back in his bed, pulling the blanket up over him, and then slipped outside to the small portico that overlooked the woods. There were plenty of women to watch over the sleeping children tonight—she was only a guest among them.

  Many of the sisters were afraid to be outside in the darkness, but she wasn’t afraid, at least not tonight. Not only was her husband watching over them, but she imagined a fiery ring of God’s army beyond, guarding the children while they slept.

  Susanna wasn’t afraid for herself, but she did fear for the men guarding the Nursery. Squinting into the darkness, she searched the men who guarded them, for Christian. God was replacing her fear with power and love and even a sound mind, like the Scriptures said. Perhaps it was time to tell her husband that she had forgiven him.

  The months had turned them into colleagues of sorts, brother and sister if not husband and wife. In their few times together, they hadn’t spoken of Catharine or of Christian’s longing for her, but his desires still seemed to haunt Susanna. Perhaps this journey would be a time of healing for her.

  Perhaps she needed to start now, before they began walking with the others.

  She stepped off the porch, into the darkness. Even though she didn’t see the brothers, she knew they were there.

  “Christian?” she whispered and then she took another step.

  “You need to go back inside,” he replied quietly, and her heart leaped at the sound of his voice. He had been even closer, guarding her, than she’d imagined.

  “I need to speak with you.”

  When he walked toward her, she could barely see his face in the darkness. He didn’t touch her, and while part of her was glad—she didn’t know how to respond to his touch—another part of her was disappointed. She wanted to be close to him tonight.

  She pulled her shawl tighter over her shoulders. “Have you seen anyone?”

  “Not tonight,” he replied. “Joseph said there were eight of them earlier. They stood in the field all afternoon, watching us, but they never approached nor did they shoot their weapons.”

  “Maybe they want something else, something other than Nathan.”

  “Right now, it seems they want to scare us.”

  “Maybe they want to scare us,” she repeated, as she thought of all the food they’d worked so hard all summer to stockpile for the winter months. Much of it was stored in barns near the Nursery. “Or maybe they want to raid our supplies.”

  “Or perhaps Lily was right and they really are looking for the boy.”

  She thought of little Nathan, wrapped in a blanket on the third floor, his dark crown of hair growing longer each day. She stepped closer, whispering now. Just in case someone was near. “His father wouldn’t really harm him, would he?”

  “I don’t know what he would do to the child, but I know for certain that he wouldn’t want him to be raised by white men.”

  “What if we adopted him, Christian? We could take him away from here and care for him.”

  “If his father wanted to, he could find us, no matter where we went.”

  “Not if we went back to Europe.”

  “Nathan isn’t our baby.” His words were kind, but they were still painful to her. “He belongs to Chief Langoma and his people.”

  “Does the chief even know he has a grandson?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Nathan is part of their family.”

/>   She pulled her hands to her chest, and in that moment, her arms longed for a child to hold. She’d never before realized how much she wanted to be a mother, not until she thought of having to give Nathan away. There were many other children to hold in Nazareth, but she’d loved Nathan more than the others. Perhaps because he was Lily’s son, or perhaps, like Timothy, because he called her name and ran to her whenever she visited the Nursery. Perhaps because God placed the desire in her heart to love him like a mother would.

  “We should take it before the lot,” she said. “Let the lot decide whether or not we can adopt him.”

  “Susanna.” His voice quieted. “We already know what is right. The lot is only used when we are unsure of the right choice.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist. This choice—her choice—to keep Nathan and care for him, wasn’t of God. Then why did she want it so badly?

  Her heart ached as she turned away.

  “Susanna?” he called softly to her.

  “I must sleep,” she said before she ran back into the house.

  She curled up on the floor beside Nathan’s bed, but with her tears, sleep evaded her for most of the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  At first light, the Brethren began to escort the children and their knapsacks to the Disciple’s House along with a wagonload of mattresses and food. None of the chaperones wanted to scare the children, and they realized that no matter how quiet they tried to keep them, it would be impossible to sneak the children past the Indians. So instead of hushed whispering, one of the brothers brought a trumpet and led their parade as they laughed and sang along their half-mile journey to the Disciple’s House. If nothing else, they would confound those who watched them.

  Susanna and Mariana led the first ten children behind the trumpeter, and five Brethren with muskets trailed them. The children giggled and skipped along their pathway, excited to be out of the Nursery on the cool autumn morning. She hoped they would enjoy the fervor in the Disciple’s House and all the new children to play with.

  In a little over a year, their settlement had transformed from a rather subdued village into a hub of noise and excitement. And it didn’t seem like it would quiet again for a long while.

  With a quick glance behind her, she saw Christian with two young boys flanked to his sides. Timothy was four now and had grown so much in the past year that she didn’t think David would recognize him during his next visit. Nathan held Christian’s other hand, his arms covered by the long sleeves of his jacket just like the other children. Most of his face was hidden by an oversized coonskin cap—one would have to examine him closely to see the reddish tint of his skin. The brothers would do anything they could to keep the warriors from examining the child.

  Once all the children and workers left the Nursery, the Indians might raid the food supplies left behind, but God could supply them with food if necessary, like He had done last year. But if they lost Nathan to Howling Wolf, she feared they would never see him again.

  Susanna stole another glance back at her husband laughing with the boys and the surrounding children as if there were no threat in the autumn-colored trees beyond. It had seemed like Christian was everywhere this morning as they prepared to move, helping the children store their belongings and collecting bags for the wagon and even stopping to help Nathan when he tripped on a step. As she watched him, she couldn’t help but think what a fine father he would make one day. The stern look that often hardened his face seemed to melt away when he was helping the children.

  As their little troop walked up the long plaza to the Disciple’s House, the community rallied around the children, just as they had done with the hundreds of refugees who had joined them. In that moment, as the community surrounded them, she had never been more proud of her husband or of their Brethren. While the refugees who lived among them had no place else to go, the people in Nazareth and Brethren around the world relied upon each other in times of need. They were never alone among their brothers and sisters unless they chose to be.

  As they walked into the house and up to the rooms reserved for the children on the second floor, she watched Christian lay out a mat for Timothy. A smile stole across her face, and she wondered at what was happening inside her.

  Before she’d found out about the ruse of their marriage, she’d thought Christian handsome, but this feeling inside was something new. It was desire mixed with admiration. A longing she’d never felt before, and in its wake she quickly turned away from him.

  Backing into the hallway, part of her wanted to stay watching him while another part of her wanted to run to a place where she could think.

  She’d always wondered what it would be like to love a man. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be in love, warring emotions of confusion and admiration, frustration and delight.

  If only she could be with her mother one last time. She would have helped Susanna sort through the conflict inside her.

  “Sister Susanna!” Timothy exclaimed, rushing to her with his arms opened wide. She gave him a second hug since he’d awakened this morning, and then Christian was beside her, along with Nathan. She looked down at Timothy, afraid of what Christian would see if he looked too long in her eyes.

  “Will you play with me?” Timothy asked.

  “Nathan and I have to go on a journey.” Nathan reached up, and she took his hand. “But when I return, I will play with you.”

  Nathan smiled at her, not knowing where this journey would take him.

  “But when you return—,” Timothy insisted.

  She nudged his chin. “Of course.”

  Then she took a deep breath and glanced at Christian. “I must go pack.”

  “We’re meeting by the Gemeinhaus in an hour.”

  He reached for her other hand, squeezing it gently, and she flinched. She had to get out of the house. She tugged her hand out of his grasp before hurrying Nathan down the hallway, away from him.

  Christian glanced down at his hands and then back up at Susanna’s retreating figure. He’d only wanted to console her, not hurt her, but it was almost as if he’d burned her with his touch. If only she knew how grateful he’d become that the lot had chosen her to be his wife.

  But Susanna didn’t give him an opportunity to speak. It was as if her anger had turned into fear, though he didn’t know why she would be afraid of him. He had done everything he could to reassure and encourage her.

  Turning, he offered to help David’s son untie the small pack that he had on his back, but Timothy galloped away from him, around the room and then over the bed.

  Christian pointed to the pack. “Can I help you unload that?”

  Timothy shook his head. “Sister Mariana said I must keep my sack with me.”

  “Only until we reached this room,” he tried to explain. “This will be your home for a few weeks.”

  Timothy gazed around the room, at the straw mattresses strewn across the floor. “Is my papa coming back?”

  “Not today,” he said. “But maybe sometime soon.”

  Christian glanced out the window and watched Susanna rush toward the Sisters House. “I need to leave in a few minutes.”

  At his words, Timothy slipped out of the cords that bound his pack over his shoulders and held it out to Christian. “I need help.”

  Christian lifted the pack and untied the knots that held it together. He understood what it was like to crave attention. For him, it had been trying to get the attention of his father when he was a boy. For a child like Timothy, it was trying to get the attention of any adult, since his parents were so far away.

  He needed to pack for his journey, but he took the boy’s clothing out of the bag, trying not to rush as he folded it in the bureau, to show the child he cared.

  Timothy stood tall beside him. “Can you be my papa?”

  Christian turned slowly, examining the boy’s earnest face. If only they could choose their parents. Or parents, their children.

  “I—I wish I could.�
� He didn’t want to hurt the boy any more than he’d already been hurt, but he had to be truthful with him. “You have a papa who loves you.”

  “But I never see him.”

  “Perhaps he will come again soon.”

  Timothy reached for his hand. “Can we pretend you’re my papa?”

  Christian knelt down beside him, unsure of what to say to this child, unsure of what David would want him to say. “I have an idea.”

  The boy’s eyes grew wide as he waited for Christian to speak.

  “Do you know what an uncle is?” Christian asked.

  The boy shook his head.

  “It’s almost like a papa—more like a grown-up friend,” he tried to explain. “Why don’t we pretend that I’m your uncle?”

  Timothy nodded.

  Christian stood and stepped toward the open door. “And as soon as I return from my journey, I will come back and visit you.”

  The boy stepped with him. “Like Sister Susanna?”

  He paused. “Has Sister Susanna been coming to visit?”

  Timothy nodded again, the smile on his face growing bigger. “She loves to play with me. Like a—like an uncle.”

  Christian smiled and glanced back toward the window. Susanna continued to surprise him. “Maybe Sister Susanna and I can come together to play with you when we return.”

  Catharine stood at the edge of the manor hall, Juliana squirming in her arms. It had been seven months since her daughter was born; it wouldn’t be long before she would need to take up permanent residence in the Nursery.

  As she looked into the blue eyes of her child this morning, both tender and strong, she knew she would miss her. Juliana had been her companion for almost the entire seven months of her life. Even though she wanted a nursemaid to help her care for the child, she also wanted to spend time with her, especially as she grew older. She wanted to teach Juliana how to dance and how to sew and, most of all, how to love her husband.

  She understood why Elias needed to go to Gnadenhutten—he didn’t want to leave Nazareth as a failure—but after he accomplished this task, they would leave with the blessing of their elders. They could go live in Bethlehem for a season and then perhaps they could move on to Philadelphia.