“Amalie, let us talk,” Jan said. “Sit. Sit down and have a glass of milk. You will sleep better tonight for it.”
She laughed, that choked, brittle sound that had so startled the minister and the elders. “Ach! I cannot sleep, Jan. When I do, I wake up and find that all my nightmares are true. And then I cannot sleep anymore.” She stared at the table.
“I know, Søster, I know. But we must talk of this because . . . because they were right.”
Amalie’s head jerked up.
“Nei, not about us marrying. Not that. That was wrong. But . . . after your baby comes, they are right. It would give the appearance of wrong.”
Suddenly she looked frightened and the dark circles hanging under her eyes deepened. “You would not leave us, Jan? Abandon us or send us away?” Her voice was shaking.
Jan shook his head. “Why would you think such a thing? I could not abandon my brother’s wife and his children! Never ask that again, Amalie.”
“Then what? What will we do?”
“First we will pray, ja? That is the most important thing. The Lord’s counsel is what we need.”
“Ja. All right.” Amalie dropped her eyes to the table again.
Jan knew what she was feeling. Lord, have you forgotten me? Do you hear me? But still he would pray, because whatever his heart felt, God was bigger!
And so he prayed aloud, “Lord, everything we have we lay at your feet. Our lives . . . we lay before you. Our futures, we offer you. Give us strength, Father God, and wisdom. We look to you for an answer to this . . . question.”
Jan opened himself for the Lord to speak to him and waited. Three days later he felt he had an answer or, at least, a first step.
“Come, Søren.” Father and son went out the kitchen door and headed for the barn. Inside, Jan pointed to an empty corner stall.
“I am going to build a bedroom for myself here, Sønn. Will you help me?”
Søren stared at him. “It is because of Minister Veicht and the elders? They said something to you.” Søren was growing red with indignation; Jan well recognized the symptoms.
“Let’s sit and talk a little, ja? Come here.” Jan sat on the bench where they cleaned and repaired their tools. He pulled the young man down next to him, laid his hand on Søren’s knee.
“I will admit that I do not like that they came as they did. I would rather they came as brethren as the Bible says: Rebuke not an elder, but intreat him as a father; and the younger men as brethren. However, some of what they said is true. Amalie is no longer a married woman and I am no longer a married man.” Jan’s voice grew rough as he said those last words.
“You know that she is like my søster, and I am like her bror, eh? But since we are unmarried and living together under the same roof, your tante and I, those who do not know us could interpret it wrongly. I would not have our testimony as Christians touched by even the appearance of evil, Søren. Do you see?”
Søren nodded, but his mouth was still set in a scowl.
“You are almost a man now, Sønn, and can understand these things. So I do not talk to you as a child; instead, I talk to you as a Christian man and ask you to pray with Tante Amalie and me, ja? Pray that God himself will give us wisdom and guidance in this situation?”
Søren mumbled a barely audible, “Ja.”
“Good. Let us pray right now. Then you will help me build a room.”
Each Sunday Jan made a point of greeting Adolphe and Rakel, showing respect and deference to the office in which Adolphe stood. This Sunday was no different.
With Søren beside him, Jan extended his hand. “Good morning, Herr Veicht, Frau Veicht. Good Sabbath to you.” Søren obediently offered his hand also.
“Guten morgen, Herr Thoresen. Guten morgen, Søren,” Herr Veicht responded evenly. He always said the same thing and never anything more. His wife only nodded, her eyes coolly appraising.
Jan nodded back, glad to have the ritual over. He and Søren moved quickly away.
That morning Jan managed to corner Gunnar Braun, Klaus Schöener, and Rikkert Kappel individually before service. “I have built a bedroom for myself in my barn,” he said to each man, with Søren interpreting. “I no longer sleep in the house. Søren will remain in the house to help Amalie with heavy chores, especially until the baby comes. From now on, I will be in the house only for meals.”
Just like a hired man, Jan could not help thinking. In my own house, like a hired man.
“You will please inform Minister Veicht,” Jan concluded. He had decided not tell Minister Veicht directly. Jan would not provide an opportunity to aggravate the man’s obvious dislike of him, especially in a public setting.
Rikkert looked around and then clasped Jan on the arm. “I think this is a good solution for now, Jan.”
Gunnar was not as positive. “I am glad to hear this, Jan. However, I am not sure Minister Veicht will think it is enough.” He sighed. “Be on your guard, Jan, ja?”
“Why should I be on my guard, Gunnar? If I am in the wrong, then let the church show me where in the Scriptures. I am not afraid of the discipline of the Lord. Whom God loves, he chastens, eh? I am at peace in God’s love for me.”
Gunnar had no answer. He, too, clasped Jan’s shoulder.
It was the same with Klaus. “I will tell you this, Jan, a bedroom in the barn will not be enough to satisfy Minister Veicht. He will bring you before the people soon.” Klaus looked at Jan, a shamed expression on his face.
“How did we get to this place?” Jan demanded, his anger flaring. “This is not how Tomas served our church and our people!”
He saw Heidi Veicht hugging Amalie and whispering encouragement to her. The old woman was still loving and sweet.
However, Heidi had changed since Adolphe and Rakel had moved into her and Tomas’ home. Now Heidi dressed in clothing as dark and plain as Rakel’s. And she had adopted a set and serene expression, Jan noticed—one devoid of laughter or smiles.
Lord, I don’t know what else to do, Jan cried silently. Amalie and I will not marry, but what else can I do?
Jan could barely tolerate taking Søren and Amalie and her children to church. When he did, he and Amalie assiduously avoided appearing like a couple. He would help her down from the wagon, but immediately find other men to converse with before and after church. Likewise, Amalie never stood near him. She and Sigrün would herd the little boys into the women’s seats as she felt they were too young yet to sit with the men.
If Little Karl, Arnie, or Kjell needed their uncle’s oversight or correction, Jan was quick to provide it, but he and Amalie carefully kept their relationship distinct and separate.
Church was no longer the joyous place it had been. What had been a happy, gracious congregation was increasingly severe and morose. With his preaching and rules, Adolphe Veicht had altered the character of the church.
Jan wondered what Tomas would have thought of the changes.
Jan knew that many of the men were as unhappy as he. Rikkert shifted uncomfortably in the stiff, black suit he was required to wear every Sunday. The singing droned on unenthusiastically.
Why does no one protest this tyranny? Jan raged inwardly. Are there no men of God to stand up to this? If I could speak their language well, Lord, I would say something!
But Jan was convicted. Would he speak up if he could articulate his thoughts in German?
He looked at Heidi Veicht sitting demurely beside her daughter-in-law on the front row and shook his head. He saw Heidi’s shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. Then, for just a moment, Rakel turned her face away and Heidi quickly looked back, smiling her toothless smile and nodding at other women and children. This was the Heidi they all knew and loved!
Rakel turned back and nudged Heidi. Jan could tell from Rakel’s reproving frown that she was saying something sharp to Heidi. The old woman calmly nodded her head, faced forward, and remained still.
Jan’s anger kindled against Rakel Veicht. O God, what they are doing to this woman of God i
s not right! he seethed within. But he could say or do nothing. Jan stared at the toes of his boots.
Lord . . .
~~**~~
Chapter 26
1873
“Pappa!” Søren cracked opened the door to Jan’s room in the barn and leaned over the bed. “Pappa,” he said quietly, shaking Jan.
Jan was in a deep sleep when he heard Søren’s voice calling to him. “What is it?” Groggy, Jan sat up and wiped his eyes.
“Tante Amalie says she is ready to have the baby,” Søren answered. He sounded nervous.
The coming of a baby had always been kept within the conversation and domain of women, not talked of much among the men or to the children. After a baby was born, he or she was proudly shown to the men and other children, as though birthing the child had been nothing more than going into a room and bringing a baby back out.
Søren was learning it was not so. His aunt had called to him in the night, and he had heard her groaning in pain on the other side of her bedroom door.
“Ah! I will go for Abigael,” Jan answered, already pulling on his boots. “When I bring her back, you will stay downstairs with me. Right now, pump water for her and build up the fire in the stove, ja?”
“Ja, Pappa.” Søren agreed readily. He frowned. “How much water, Pappa?”
Jan chuckled. “Fill the kettle and the big pot, eh? Put them both on the stove to heat.”
Jan hitched the bays to one of the wagons. Within minutes they were trotting down their icy dirt road toward the bridge over the creek. Jan shivered and rubbed his eyes again. He was dressed in thick layers, but the January night was bitterly cold.
He turned off the bridge and directed the team up the rise and then down the rutted track to the Andersons’ house below. A few minutes later he knocked on their door. Henrik, barefoot and dressed in a night shirt, opened it.
“So? Is it Amalie’s time?” he asked, yawning.
“Ja, she sent Søren to me to fetch Abigael.”
“I will get her. It will be a few minutes.”
After Jan returned with Abigael and she went upstairs to help Amalie, Jan and Søren built up the fire in the living room and sank into the deep, overstuffed chairs. Both of them were sleeping soundly when Abigael woke them.
“It is a girl,” she said happily. “It did not take long, and Amalie is doing fine.”
“A girl!” Søren was flummoxed. After three boys in a row, a girl was not what he had expected from his aunt.
Jan laughed. “It is good we have another girl, eh? Sigrün and Amalie will like that.” He chuckled again. “What name has Amalie given the baby?”
“A good one, I think! She calls her Uli.”
“Ja, that is pretty. Uli. What do you think, Søren?”
The boy shrugged. “I do not know, Pappa. What do I know of baby girls?”
Jan clapped him on the shoulder. “A baby girl is a blessing. You will see.” He looked at Søren and Abigael and said softly, “Karl would be glad to see this new child of his. We must be glad for him.”
Abigael nodded, understanding. “Yes. I will fix Amalie something to eat now.”
For weeks following the birth of Amalie’s daughter, Jan felt the unrest of a looming confrontation. He dutifully took Sigrün, Søren, and the little boys to church while Amalie and the baby rested at home.
He knew in his heart that Minister Veicht was waiting and watching and that he would call them before the congregation soon after Amalie resumed coming to church with him. Yet the more Jan prayed, the more sure he was that the Lord had no further direction for him.
Fader, I have asked you what else I should do, but you have said nothing, Jan prayed. If we are brought before the church, I can only answer what the Holy Spirit speaks to me. Your will be done, Lord.
The first time Jan held Amalie’s baby he stared into her blue eyes, humbled by the awesome power of new life. “Little girl, I am your Onkel Jan. I will take good care of you, ja?”
Often as he held her, he thought of Elli and Kristen. How could he not? He held the infant close and drew comfort from her.
When Uli was six weeks old, Amalie felt ready to take the babe to church. Jan agreed, but he steeled himself for what he sensed was coming. Lord . . . I am trusting in you.
As soon as Amalie stepped down from the wagon that Sunday, the women of the church gathered around to see her new baby. Jan corralled her three little boys and took them off to give Amalie a few minutes of peace. He decided he would keep them with him during the service, too.
He had Søren sit on one end of the bench and placed Little Karl, Arnie, and Kjell between them. Jan took the seat next to Kjell. Amalie might have difficulties with the energetic two-year-old, but he would be still for his onkel.
Norvald Bruntrüllsen sat behind him. As Jan turned to shake his hand their eyes met. “If you have anything to say today, my friend, I will translate it for you.” Norvald’s eyes were sad but determined.
“So! You know we will be brought before the church today?” Jan asked quietly. Norvald glanced behind Jan and Jan knew Adolphe Veicht was watching.
Always! Always he is watching me! Jan fumed.
Norvald dropped Jan’s hand and his eyes cut away, but under his breath Jan heard, “Ja.”
“Thank you. I will ask you to help me then,” Jan replied before he sat down.
At the end of his message, Adolphe held up his hand. “Before we are dismissed to break bread, we have a matter of church discipline. As much as it pains me, I must bring a matter before you concerning Jan Thoresen and Amalie Thoresen.”
A dread hush descended on the congregation.
Adolphe made sure every eye was on him before he spoke again. Jan looked across to the women and saw Amalie. Her broad, honest face was composed. Jan knew she would not easily break down.
My brother chose a good woman, he thought with pride.
Adolphe, sure of everyone’s attention, continued. “The elders and I have already visited and given our counsel to Jan and Amalie Thoresen. We counseled them to be married and gave them four months to hear our godly wisdom and respond. They have not heard us. They have not stopped living in sin.” Adolphe looked directly at Jan as he spoke.
A collective gasp sounded across the room. In Jan’s ear, Norvald whispered what Adolphe was saying. Søren stared aghast at his father. Jan handed a sleeping Kjell to Søren and rose to his feet. He would not dishonor his family; he, like Amalie would remain composed.
He gestured to Norvald. “This man will translate for me so that I may answer this accusation.” Norvald stood behind Jan and repeated what Jan said in German. Loud enough to be heard by all, he asked in Riksmaal, “Of what sin are we accused?”
Adolphe’s face darkened but he kept his composure. “You and your brother’s wife are living together without marriage.”
“Nei, we are not,” Jan answered in a clear voice.
“You add lies to your sins?” Adolphe thundered. “This will not be tolerated.”
When Norvald repeated the word “lies,” Jan’s eyes hardened and his hands gripped the sides of his trousers.
“I call the elders of the church to stand!” Jan roared. No one had expected this—not even Jan.
Slowly, Rikkert, Klaus, and Gunnar stood to their feet. Adolphe had momentarily frozen, but soon enough he motioned to them to sit and started to say something. Jan cut him off.
“I will speak, Minister Veicht. You will not interrupt my response to this charge.” He pointed his finger at Adolphe and, even though Norvald had not yet interpreted, Jan’s meaning was clear.
Jan pointed at each elder. “Did I not speak to each of you saying I had built a room for myself in the barn? Did I not say that I would only be in the house for meals?”
Jan turned to Adolphe. “In December I requested them to convey this information to you. Did you not receive it?”
Norvald repeated everything Jan said. The elders nodded in affirmation, and the men of the congregation eyed
Jan speculatively.
Adolphe waved Jan’s words away. “So you say you live in the barn, but can anyone testify to this?”
Jan pointed at Rikkert, “Did you seek to verify what I told you? Have you seen this room?”
Rikkert cleared his throat. “I have.”
Jan addressed the elders but also the entire congregation. “You have known me for nearly seven years. This man,” he jerked his chin toward Adolphe, “calls me a liar. Am I a liar? Has my word or conduct ever been in question?” As Norvald translated, loud calls and shouts of “nein!” answered Jan.
Jan again pointed at Adolphe. “If you doubted your elders’ testimony, Minister, why did you not seek to verify it for yourself?”
Adolphe, his face a dark red, spat back, “No one can be there in the middle of the night, can they? When you sneak into the house and into this woman’s bed? To prove the innocence of this arrangement would require a live-in chaperone, would it not?”
He had gone too far. A murmur of outrage rippled over the congregation.
Sigrün pushed her face into Amalie’s shoulder, sobbing silently. Amalie sat still and erect, but Jan could see her struggling to keep her composure.
Then Jan saw Søren staring at Adolphe with open hatred, and the little boys, scared and not understanding what was happening, were wailing and climbing on Jan’s legs.
I must end this, Jan realized sadly. This is injuring my sønn and my brother’s family.
He held up his hand to prevent Adolphe from saying more. “Minister Veicht. You need not continue. We wish no strife. We will leave the church in peace.”
“Nein!” someone said loudly and others took it up. Jan spoke even louder to be heard over the growing unrest.
“God is our witness that there never has and never shall be wrong behavior between myself and my brother’s wife. Amalie and I have prayed. We do not feel the Lord calling us to marry, but I must still provide for my brother’s wife and children, mustn’t I? That I will do, even though we do not marry.”
Wild Heart on the Prairie (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) Page 19
