Her heart felt as if it were tearing into two pieces between her past and her future. Somewhere between the two was a murky present she didn’t quite understand, and it terrified her. At times it felt as if she were drowning, the waves crashing over her head. Perhaps she should grab on to John’s outstretched hand and let him pull her out of it.
When she reached the side door of Liesel’s kitchen, she scraped the mud off her shoes and stepped into the room filled with Amana men and women eating their supper. The sound of forks clanking against glass plates echoed between the light blue walls. After her long walk, she was late for the meal, but she was more concerned with checking on her daughter than eating anyway, worried that Meredith might be sitting in a corner of the kitchen, anxious and alone.
When she peeked over the swinging doors into the kitchen, she saw Liesel standing over a parade of copper boilers bubbling on the long stove, directing the eight or so women around her in their tasks. When Liesel looked toward the doors, she smiled.
“Go eat,” Liesel said, waving her back toward the Speisesaal.
“Where’s Meredith?” Sophie asked, scanning the room.
“In the back room, peeling potatoes.”
Sophie pressed her fingers into the top of the painted doors. “Is she okay?”
“She’s been a tremendous help this afternoon.”
She searched her friend’s eyes for the truth but didn’t see anything except sincerity in them. Meredith would be angry at Sophie, but the work was good for her. Good for both of them.
Stepping back into the dining hall, Sophie glanced over at the men’s table, inadvertently searching for Will, but she didn’t see him. In fact, there seemed to be quite a few empty spaces compared to days past. Perhaps the men had forgone their meal for a few more innings.
She sat down at the end of the women’s table and dished up a helping of the German dumplings, soaked in a brown butter sauce. Scanning the women’s faces, she wondered which one—if any of them—was Will’s wife. While she recognized several of these ladies from her childhood, she couldn’t remember everyone’s name. Some of them had probably come over to work from one of the nearby Amana villages, just as some of the men and women in Amana had moved to another village in the last decade, depending on where they were needed to work.
Much had changed since she’d left for the outside, but when standing in the pine grove this afternoon, across from Will, she felt for the briefest moment as if she were sixteen again, alive with the fire of youth.
Her face warmed at the thought, and she looked quickly down at the pool of dumplings on her plate. Thankfully, none of these ladies could read her thoughts.
She tried to redirect her thoughts toward the man who wanted to marry her in Des Moines. The one waiting for an answer to his proposal.
She’d never love the senator like she had Conrad, but she and Meredith would have a home for the rest of their lives with him. A family. John had made his fortune from the coal mines near Des Moines. He respected her and had agreed to welcome Meredith as one of his daughters.
But before she married again, she wanted more time with the man about to become her husband. Even if they didn’t have years spent getting to know one another—like she and Conrad had—she wished she could know more about his heart instead of just his perfectly polished facade.
It seemed that she didn’t know John nearly as well as she should to accept his proposal of marriage, but then again, she didn’t know when she would get to know him much better. John spent months working in the District of Columbia. She would never travel with him on the train, so they would only spend his vacations as husband and wife until he returned for good to Iowa.
She sighed. If only the idea of spending a lifetime with John thrilled her.
As she took another bite of her dumplings, she glanced toward the kitchen on her left. Occasionally, one of the younger women would bring out a refilled platter, but she still didn’t see her daughter.
Minutes later, the benches cleared as everyone except Sophie filed out for their evening prayer service. She slipped into the kitchen and found Meredith sitting on a stool in the back room, a potato peeler in her hand.
Sophie had expected tears or anger, but her daughter was grinning as she picked up another potato from the basket beside her.
Liesel stepped up beside Sophie. “She’s worked hard,” her friend whispered.
Meredith lifted her head, met Sophie’s gaze. Then her smile slipped away as she swiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. “Cassie and I had to peel fifty potatoes,” she complained.
Cassie was in the kitchen now, scrubbing one of the kettles at the wooden sink.
Sophie pointed back at the door. “Let’s go rest for the evening.”
Meredith considered her words for a moment and then shook her head. “Liesel asked me to soak the oats for tomorrow and then grind coffee beans.”
“You don’t have to…,” Sophie started, afraid to exhaust her daughter.
“But they need me,” Meredith said, pleading.
“I can walk her home in an hour,” Liesel said. “We couldn’t have finished supper on time without her.”
A smile lit Meredith’s sweat-caked face again, and Sophie knew that look. She was basking in her usefulness.
As Sophie left the kitchen, she heard Cassie and Meredith’s laughter, and it reminded her of the afternoons that she and Liesel had spent giggling after school as they cracked eggs, rolled out dough, and peeled potatoes. She hadn’t realized at the time how blessed she was to have such a sweet friendship and the satisfaction from working hard with her hands. And the promise of a good night’s sleep after the community prayed and sang together in the Saal.
Loneliness settled over her again as she strolled back among the houses. A German worship song drifted out of the long stone building across the street, the voices blending together in a beautiful a cappella. They didn’t use instruments in the Amana Colonies. Didn’t need them.
Threads of twilight wove above the roof of the Saal and draped over the building like a pink curtain flowing down on both sides. Wind rustled the tree branches around her, but she didn’t rush to the hotel. Instead, she leaned back against an iron railing and listened to the worship.
What would happen if she slipped into the rear of the Saal?
She wouldn’t disrupt the worship and prayer, but for a few minutes, perhaps she could feel as if she were part of the community again. That she belonged.
But when she stepped into the street, the music started to fade.
Perhaps the Amana people would sing again, but they may spend the rest of their half hour in silence, listening to the voice of God. And if she opened the door now, she would disrupt their prayers.
She folded her arms across her chest as she walked toward the hotel, craving the community she once had. The sweet friendships built from working alongside others who wanted to serve God and worship together.
How she missed this kinship with people who prayed every night for their brothers and sisters, who cared for each other in their need.
The Amana community began to sing again in German, and she stopped to listen, basking in their song about the love in which they were bound and anchored, love in which they would never part. An enduring, persistent love that overcame their stubborn and wayward hearts.
♦ ♦ ♦
“We need someone else to help manage the mill’s production,” Matthias told Will, his crippled hand trembling on the edge of his desk.
The carding machines, revived to their working power, clicked and whirled on the floor above them. About half of their 125 workers were sorting, washing, dyeing, carding, and spinning the wool this morning, but they still weren’t working fast enough to meet the deadline for Sears, Roebuck & Co.
Will crossed his arms as he leaned forward in his chair toward his grandfather on the other side of the desk. “Do you want me to return to managing the farms?”
Matthias shook his head. “
No, I want to find someone to work alongside you.”
“There’s no one else—” he started. Everyone else with management experience was engaged in his or her own assigned tasks.
Matthias tapped one hand on the desk. “I’ve learned that Sophie Keller has returned to Amana.”
Will swallowed hard. “For good?”
“For a season,” Matthias said. “I’m hoping to convince her to stay through the new year.”
“We don’t need her help,” Will insisted.
Matthias’s gray eyebrows climbed. “We need someone’s help.”
“Call it pride if you must.” Will tried to calm the frustration in his voice. “But I’d rather have someone else help us.”
“I think this is about more than your pride, Will.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Matthias cleared his throat but didn’t say anything, his gaze focused on the edge of his worn desk.
His grandfather’s silence was worse than a thousand words of rebuke. His grandparents had been married more than fifty years now, and both Matthias and Amalie had conspired over the years to help Will find a wife, as if he couldn’t find one on his own.
Was this part of their conspiracy?
Matthias finally spoke. “Sophie was an excellent manager when she worked at the kitchen house.”
“Too many cooks spoil the broth,” Will retorted.
Matthias laughed. “We aren’t making any broth here.”
“You know what I mean—”
“You can’t do everything, Will, and I’m too old to be walking the floor,” he said, the tone of his voice marking the end of their debate. “I’ll have you both manage different areas.”
Will drummed his fingers on his flannel sleeve. “She won’t agree to it.”
Matthias’s voice turned serious again. “Let’s both pray that she will. If not, I’ll have to cancel our order with Sears.”
And the whole community would suffer as a result.
Matthias rapped his knuckles on the edge of his chair. “You’ll have to convince her to join us.”
Will fell back against his seat. “Me?”
“Amalie said the two of you used to be friends in school.”
“A very long time ago.”
“Aah,” Matthias said as he dipped his pen into the inkwell. “‘Iron sharpeneth iron,’” he quoted from Proverbs. “‘So a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.’”
Will wasn’t certain he wanted to be sharpened anymore by his friendship with Sophie.
“Talk to her first thing in the morning,” Matthias said, looking up again. “And do it kindly, please.”
Will nodded his head, but kindly or not, he didn’t want to ever speak with Sophie again.
Chapter 5
Meredith whispered good-bye in the candlelight, closing the door of the hotel room long before the sun made an appearance outside their window. Sophie glanced at the clock. It was only five, but she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Rising slowly from her bed, she poured cold water into the basin and splashed it on her face.
Her daughter’s transformation this past week was astonishing. Meredith arose early each morning, rushing off to help Liesel and Cassie in the kitchen before Cassie went to school. Then she helped Liesel scrub dishes and prepare dinner while Cassie was gone. When Cassie returned, she stayed to help Liesel in the afternoons, too.
Meredith no longer complained about the work, even when all she seemed to do was peel and peel the endless baskets of potatoes.
Bells on the baker’s wagon chimed outside the window, making its morning run to the kitchen houses. Sophie looked out the window and watched the horses, glowing in the baker’s lantern light as they pulled the wagon down the street.
If only there was something she could do to help here in Amana as well.
Her mind wandered back to the streets of Des Moines, to the morning that she and Meredith had left. The street below Sherman Hill had been packed with unemployed coal miners who’d protested their company’s dangerous policies as part of a new union, asking residents on Sherman Hill instead for a day’s work.
She didn’t know which mining company they worked for—and she was afraid to inquire. John was the co-owner of a coal mine in Des Moines. Even though he wanted to do right for the citizens of Iowa, she feared he had been blinded by his own enterprise.
Conrad had been one of the attorneys who fought to help the coal miners organize and ask for safer conditions inside the mines, but it seemed the company had still let them go.
She’d seen despair in the miners’ faces as she and Meredith had left town, and now she understood it even more. The men couldn’t support their families, and the idleness of wasting another day when they desperately needed the income was probably eroding their self-respect.
She pressed her fingers together, wishing she had work for them. And work for herself as well.
John had called two more times this week. Left two more messages with the hotel clerk. Today she would call him back and decline his invitation for Christmas dinner again. He would be irritated at her for not returning to Des Moines, but when she told him how Meredith was thriving here, he would understand.
She dressed in a warm black gown, twisted her long hair into a chignon, and then sat back down by the window, waiting for breakfast to begin at seven.
Minutes later, someone knocked at her door, and she eyed the clock. It was ten minutes after six now.
Who would be at her door this early? Most people in Amana were just waking up.
Then her heart lurched, and she jumped to her feet, rushing toward the door.
What if something had happened to Meredith?
Standing in the gas lamplight, on the other side of the door, was Will Kephart, dressed in a brown chambray shirt and dungarees. She glanced up and down the dim corridor. “Is something wrong?”
“I need to speak with you,” he said, unsmiling.
She persisted. “Is this about Meredith?”
When he shook his head, her breath resumed its normal pace. “What do you need to say?”
He pointed toward the staircase. “Let’s discuss it in the parlor.”
She nodded. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
Retreating back into her room, she leaned back against the doorpost. Had the elders sent Will to ask her to leave the colonies? The thought of going back to the city now, before the holidays, saddened her more than she could have imagined. Meredith was finally climbing out of this fog. They couldn’t leave quite yet.
She prayed the elders would let her stay for another week, at least through Christmas. Perhaps a little more time would help Meredith retain the hope she’d found here.
Breathing deeply, she tied her high-top boots and unhooked her coat from the peg on the wall. And prayed for strength.
Will was standing in the parlor when she arrived, his broad back facing the braided cover on the sofa, his arms crossed.
Had he been this handsome when they were younger? She couldn’t seem to remember with him staring down at her, his dark brown eyes flickering with what looked like disdain.
What had she done to make him think so poorly of her?
“We will return to Des Moines the day after Christmas,” she said simply, fidgeting with her gloves.
Surprise replaced the disdain in his gaze.
“Liesel has invited us to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas with her family, but I know we don’t belong—”
He stopped her with a sweep of his hand. “The elders don’t want you to leave,” he replied. “In fact, quite the contrary.”
She tilted her head, the gloves resting at her side. “What do you mean?”
“They would like you to stay another month and help manage the woolen mill.”
She stepped back, shocked. “What?”
“Matthias and I have been trying to manage it together, but we’re behind on production.”
She shook her head
. “I’ve never managed a mill—”
“According to my grandmother, you did a stellar job managing the kitchen house.”
Fourteen years ago.
And the production in a mill was nothing like producing a meal.
“The hours are long,” he said, his fist knocking against the rolltop desk beside the sofa.
She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“And you’d be the only woman.”
His offer terrified her, yet it ignited something within her as well. For a few weeks, at least, she could be useful, helping like Meredith was in the kitchen. She could be a part of the Amana community one last time.
She nodded slowly. “I will consider it.”
A shadow crossed over his face, and she wondered at it. He’d asked for her help at the mill, yet it seemed he really hadn’t expected her to accept this task.
Or perhaps he really didn’t want her to do the job.
“When will you make a decision?” he asked.
She glanced at the white curtains around the window, probably made from the mill’s calico. At the simple furnishings in the small room.
What did she have to consider before making her decision? There was no one to ask except Meredith, and after the last couple of days, she was almost certain her daughter would agree to the plan. She should probably ask John, but he would try and talk her out of it. Not only could she be useful here in Amana, it would buy her more time before she gave him a decision.
“I’ll visit the mill after breakfast,” she said.
“Matthias will give you a tour.” He shoved his hat back on his head before turning to leave.
She sat on the sofa and watched him walk past the window.
Had she done something to upset Will before she left the Colonies? Perhaps he was simply uncomfortable talking to her after Conrad was gone.
People had responded to her in all sorts of odd ways since her husband had died. Some ignored her; others were awkward and kept talking long after they’d run out of meaningful things to say. Still others seemed angry with her, as if they blamed her in some way for Conrad’s death.
A Plain and Sweet Christmas Romance Collection Page 22
