I was surprised by Anton’s bold behavior during prayer meeting. He seldom spoke out, but tonight he appeared pleased when my father asked him to read from the Bible. Earlier in the year he would have refused to participate. With his shoulders squared, Anton read the entire chapter without faltering.
While my father led the prayer time, I opened my eyes a mere slit and peeked across the room at Anton. He sat with his eyes tightly closed and his hands folded. Great changes had taken place in his life since he’d arrived in East, and my heart swelled at the progress he’d made.
During the days while I’d been confined to bed, Anton had written notes and drawn sketches of the sheep for me. Though he wasn’t permitted to enter my bedroom, he sent the messages with Dovie or slipped them beneath my door. On a few occasions, he’d stood in the doorway and talked to me. Worry had shone in his eyes, and his gentle concern touched my heart.
Although Dr. Zimmer had declared me completely recovered, Anton continued to watch after me as carefully as he would a newborn lamb. His caring behavior and words of endearment had dispelled my former doubts about him, and I had given more and more thought to his suggestion that we build a life together.
Tonight as we departed the prayer meeting, Anton moved to my side. I smiled, pleased to have him walk beside me. “You did a gut job with reading tonight.”
“Danke. I feel more at ease now, and it is because of you. I always feel better when you are near me.” His lips tilted in a bashful smile. “You will come to the barn tomorrow while your father is teaching me to shear, ja?”
Darkness had not yet descended, and I could see the shadow of apprehension lurking in his eyes. “I will be there, but you will do fine. The sheep know your voice, and they will respond well to you. After you shear a few of them, it will become easier for you.”
He didn’t appear totally convinced. “I was hoping there would be enough of the hired help that your Vater wouldn’t think I needed to shear.”
I smiled and shook my head. “A gut shepherd knows how to care for his sheep in every situation. You must learn so if outside help is not available in the future, you can perform the task yourself.”
“I know you are right, but the shearing is one thing I would rather not learn.”
I took hold of the banister on my way upstairs to bed. “I will pray that all goes well in the morning.”
His smile didn’t quite meet his eyes, but he thanked me. “You should also pray for the sheep that must tolerate my clumsy attempts.”
I chuckled. “You can be sure I will be praying for them, as well.”
The thought of Anton’s concern over the sheep warmed me. He had developed the heart of a true shepherd. I understood his worries and had done my best to reassure him. Though he didn’t appear swayed, I believed that the Lord would grant him the peace and skill to handle the shearing.
After breakfast the following morning, the three of us made our way to the barn, where Anton would begin his lessons. Father had made certain no one else would be around while Anton tried his hand with the shears.
My father walked toward one of the larger ewes. “I am going to shear this one while you watch, Anton. While I shear, I will do my best to explain, but you should ask me questions if you do not understand.” He pointed to a spot nearby. “Move over there and stand beside the tarp. Karlina will gather the wool once it is off the sheep. Later today we will get all the spaces ready for the shearers. We want the sheep and shearers as comfortable as possible, and we want to keep the wool nice and clean.”
After positioning the animal on its rump and resting its back against my father’s thighs and lower legs, he held the shears aloft. “I like to talk a bit while I’m shearing so they hear my voice, but you’ll soon discover the sheep are pretty cooperative when it comes to the process. We clip in a circular fashion, and if you keep their feet off the floor while you’re working on them, you won’t have any trouble.”
Anton arched his brows. “I’m not so sure, but I hope you are right.”
My father commenced clipping the underpart of the ewe’s neck and moved around the top of the neck to the top of the shoulders. He pointed to the sheep’s belly. “Now you clip from midbelly down to the hind legs and then move from midbelly to the thick portion of the forelegs, always shedding the wool back and forth from the right and left.”
Moving with ease, my father clipped the thick part of the wool near the foreleg, continued in parallel rings over the shoulder, ribs, and loins, and then clipped up and along the top of the back before he gently dropped the sheep on its side. He talked to the sheep in a low voice while he continued the circular cuts over the hip and thighs until he had sheared up to the line of the backbone.
“Now we turn and do the same thing on the other side,” he said to Anton.
“But how do you know how close to make the cuts and how close to the skin?”
My father moved the sheep into position and motioned to Anton. “Come closer and you will see my ring marks are about a half inch apart. You don’t want them much more than a half or three-fourths of an inch apart.” My father lifted the wool far enough for Anton to see where he had cut. “Put your hand beneath where I’ve cut so you will know how it should feel. You want to make your cuts about a third of an inch away from the skin.”
Anton stepped back after he’d examined the sheep. “You are cutting pretty close to the skin.”
“Ja, that is the idea. The sheep needs to be cool in the summer. We don’t want to give them only half a haircut.” My father chuckled.
“What if you nick them?”
“Sometimes it happens, but always we try to be careful. Place your free hand flat on the skin and draw it tight as you shear and you will have an easier time.” He nodded toward the wool he had clipped and lifted along the sheep’s body. “Always try to keep the wool collected together so the sheep does not break the fleece with its feet if it should kick.”
“There is a lot to remember. I hope the shearers will move quickly, because I doubt I’ll be able to finish more than two or three sheep in a day’s time.”
“Ach! You will do better than that. Most of the men can shear about thirty sheep in a day. Some a few more and some a few less.”
“Ja, well I will be among the group who shear less. Much less.”
“Do not become defeated before you begin. The Lord made you as capable of shearing a sheep as any other man.”
“We will see,” Anton said. He maintained a watchful eye while my father continued shearing the ewe, but his uneasiness increased as my father made the final cuts.
I swept the tarp with a besom and picked up the stray locks of wool before I carried the fleece to a large table. When work began in earnest on Monday, the sheared woolly coats would be piled in stacks and sent by wagons to the woolen mill, where they would be sorted, cleaned, spun, and woven into blankets.
My father waved Anton forward. “Now you can begin with that ewe over there. Remember to keep her feet off the floor, and you will do fine.”
I wasn’t certain if he would be more at ease if I didn’t watch or if he wanted me to give him my attention, so I stood at a distance and kept my eyes trained on him. If he looked in my direction, he would know I hadn’t left the barn. He pulled the ewe into position and hesitated.
“You cannot expect the sheep to remain in that position all day, Anton. You must begin to shear.” My father opened and closed his hand in a rapid motion. “Put your shears to work for you.”
Anton placed his hand on the sheep’s belly and made his first cut, and then the next. His confidence increased, and while my father offered verbal instruction, Anton worked his way around the left side of the sheep. He turned her and had begun the second side when his shears went too deep.
Anton gasped. The sheep bleated, fought her way to her feet, and ran across the barn with the half-shorn portion of her coat dragging along one side of her body. Had the lower barn door been open, she would have run outside. Instead, she c
ircled around the barn with Anton racing after her. As the ewe circled for the third time, my father managed to gain a hold on the animal, and Anton leaned forward to catch his breath. I did my best to squelch the laughter that threatened to escape.
His face turned the color of a beet and his features pinched in a tight frown. I expected him to lash out with an angry exclamation, but instead he looked up at me. “I do not think she is bleeding too much, since she made it around the barn three times.”
My father chuckled and shook his head. “Not bad enough to need a stitch, but it could use a little tar.” My father called for me to bring the small pot of hot tar. He quickly dabbed a little on the nick. “That should take care of it. She’s fine. Now pick up your shears and finish the job.”
“I thought maybe you’d want to finish up since—”
“That’s not the way you learn. You’re doing fine. A small nick on your first sheep is to be expected.”
There was reluctance in Anton’s step, but he settled the animal in position and set to work. Perspiration dotted his brow by the time he finished, but he smiled with delight when my father congratulated him on his accomplishment.
“Now you can set to work on those others over there.” My father pointed to several sheep in a far stall.
Anton’s smile slipped away as quickly as it had arrived. “Do you mean it? I have to shear those others?”
“If you’re going to feel gut about working with the other men on Monday, you need to shear more than one sheep today. You have tomorrow to rest up.” There was a gleam in my father’s eyes. “You’ll be suffering a few aches and pains in the morning, but by Monday you’ll be eager to begin.”
Anton didn’t argue, but I could see that my father’s remarks hadn’t swayed him. If he could have his way, he would go out to the pasture or work on another invention, but I was pleased when he went and dutifully brought another sheep to the tarp. Anton was not the same man who’d first arrived in East.
Word had spread throughout the villages that we would begin shearing today. And though most of the men had to go out to the fields, there were visitors from the outside and a few from Main who arrived to observe the men perform their shearing. I understood the enthusiasm of those who came, for even after all these years, I still enjoyed watching the process.
We had prepared the shearing area in the shelter that adjoined the east side of the barn after Anton finished his lesson on Saturday. This morning my father and Anton had gone to the barn so they could prepare the sheep to be moved on and off the shearing floor in a quick and orderly fashion.
The shearing was moving along, with all of the hired shearers as well as our own shepherds working at a steady pace. I was pleased that Jakub had taken a position next to Anton. Already Jakub had given Anton several compliments on his shearing and had come to his aid when one of the sheep had become uncooperative.
The men had just begun when I arrived at the barn. I took my place on the floor where I would help sweep up the locks and carry off the fleece as the men finished each sheep. Visitors had gathered along the perimeter of the shelter. Their faces reflected escalating admiration as the shearers worked with speed and agility. I was carrying fleece to the stacking table when I heard someone call Anton’s name. I turned toward the group of visitors, and my eyes were immediately drawn toward the voice. Violet! Her father was at her side. He directed a stern look at her and leaned toward her to say something I couldn’t discern. Moments later, the two of them headed toward the shearing shelter. My stomach roiled and I thought I might faint.
CHAPTER 29
The weight of the fleece didn’t permit me to delay any longer, but I kept my eyes trained on Violet and her father as I carried the pile of heavy wool to the stacking table. After placing the bundle on the table, I turned my full attention to the two visitors. Instead of going to where Anton was shearing, they stood near my father. Dr. Nagel’s features twisted into a sour look as he motioned toward Anton and then looked at Violet. I couldn’t imagine what they were saying, but I was sure it wasn’t good.
Once Anton finished shearing his sheep, my father went to speak with him and then escorted him back to where Dr. Nagel and Violet were standing with their arms folded across their chests. Violet wore a look of triumph, while Dr. Nagel’s features remained frozen in a disagreeable frown. What did they want? I knew it could be nothing good. My mouth felt as dry as the wool I’d carried to the stacking table only moments earlier.
Taking sidesteps across the straw, I drew closer. I wanted to hear what had caused Dr. Nagel to speak with my father. Whatever the reason, it must involve Violet, or she wouldn’t be standing at her father’s side. I watched as she rested her head on her father’s shoulder and gazed up at him. She obviously was an old hand at using such tactics to gain her father’s support.
Inching a few steps closer, I heard Violet confirm that she was telling the truth. “He did take advantage of me, Vater. Anton returned from the pasture right after you left for Main Amana. We were alone in the barn for almost an hour.” She fluttered her lashes. “I told you all of this. Why must I repeat it?”
My father’s face tightened. “Because you are making terrible accusations that can cause grave consequences for Anton. And because I am having some trouble believing he would conduct himself in such a manner.”
Dr. Nagel squared his shoulders and glared at my father. “You think my daughter would lie about such a serious matter?”
“It would not be the first time.” Anton glared at Violet. “Tell the truth, Violet. You came to the barn and tried to convince me to ask the elders for permission to marry you. When I refused and said I loved another, you became angry with me.”
Violet shook her head. “That isn’t true. You said you loved me and that I must prove my love for you. When I refused, you attempted to take advantage of me and didn’t turn loose of me until you heard my father call for me.”
I gasped. “Violet! How can you say those things?”
Violet and the three men all turned in my direction. I didn’t know who was the most surprised by my unexpected intrusion. Violet’s eyes flashed with anger, and I knew she wasn’t going to easily admit the truth. I sensed a hint of fear in Anton’s bearing, and my father and Dr. Nagel seemed taken aback that I had entered the fray.
Violet had shown no indication she planned to answer my question. Unwilling to let my question pass without hearing a response from her, I rested my hands on my hips. “And how did you convince your father such a story could be true? I was in the barn and heard portions of your conversation. You weren’t attempting to get away from Anton. In fact, you were trying to convince him to marry you.” I hadn’t heard that portion of the conversation, but I did believe Anton had told me the truth. I also knew that Violet had no idea how long I’d been in the barn.
I inhaled a deep breath. “The only anger you exhibited that day was toward me. If Anton had attempted to take advantage of you, why didn’t you say something when your father appeared? Your clothing showed no sign of a struggle, and you exhibited more anger toward me than toward Anton.”
Dr. Nagel cast a stern look at his daughter. “Well? Can you answer Sister Karlina’s questions? These are some of the same things I asked about when you came to me and made these accusations yesterday.”
“Yesterday? She waited until yesterday to tell you something so terrible had happened to her more than a month ago? You cannot believe this story is true, Dr. Nagel. I know that there were times I got into fights while I lived in High, but never have I done anything to dishonor a woman. Violet, you need to tell your Vater the truth—about everything.”
Although he spoke with passion, Anton held any sign of anger in check. I gave my father a sideways glance, hoping he had noticed. Had this confrontation occurred back in December, Anton would have lashed out at both Violet and her father. Today, he wasn’t controlled by anger. Instead, he was letting reason prevail.
Violet’s face turned crimson. She narrowed h
er eyes, and for a minute, I thought she would hold fast to her accusations. “I don’t want to talk in front of all of you.” Hatred flashed in her eyes when she turned to me. “I’ll speak to my Vater when we are alone.”
“Nein!” I hadn’t expected Dr. Nagel to disagree, but he pointed at Violet and shook his head. “You will speak right here and right now for all of us to hear. If you spoke the truth, there should be no shame. If your words were not true, apologies are required and punishment will follow.”
Speaking so quietly we were all required to lean closer, Violet reluctantly admitted nothing had happened in the barn. “Anton said he did not want to marry me.” She whined the final sentence and shoved her lower lip into a pout.
My father arched his bushy brows. “And you would make such claims against a man you profess to love?”
“I thought that once we were married, he would learn to love me.” She turned her attention to Anton. “She isn’t as pretty as me, and you could come back to High if you married me.”
The discomfort hanging over our little group increased by the minute, but my father maintained his calm demeanor.
“I do not intend on returning to High, but you also need to tell your Vater that the incident that happened while we were sledding was not of my doing. He needs to know the truth, Violet.”
Violet stomped her left foot, and a small cloud of dust flurried from beneath the hem of her skirt. “Why do I have to do this? I want to go home.” She sounded like one of the little children at Kinderschule instead of a grown woman. Folding her arms across her waist, she turned toward Anton. “If you came back to High, you could work on your inventions, and you wouldn’t have to take care of these stupid sheep.”
“The sheep are not stupid, and I have learned much while caring for them.”
Violet snorted. “What can anyone learn from sheep?”
“The Bible talks about people being like sheep and says God is the Gut Shepherd. When we go down the wrong path, He still loves and forgives us—He wants to protect us. That’s how it is for shepherds when they care for their sheep. When a sheep runs off, we search for it and bring it back to the flock so it will not be harmed by wolves or wild dogs. Tending for sheep requires a calm and patient shepherd. I did not put those abilities to use before I came here, but during my time in East, I have learned the value of those qualities.” He hesitated a moment. “I have learned much from my job as a shepherd.”
A Hidden Truth Page 26
