Chapter Eight
Greta slid the wooden paddle into the newly built community bake-oven. She pulled out a warm loaf of bread, breathed in its rich, nutty aroma, and smiled. Barbara Gruber passed by and stopped to peer over Greta’s shoulder.
“I think that should bake a little bit longer, don’t you?”
Greta’s smile evaporated. “It looked done to me.”
“Give it a bit longer.” Barbara nodded and continued on her way. I know she is trying to help, but her advice only highlights how incompetent I am! Greta slid the loaf of bread back inside the oven and pushed a log into the flames. She wiped her hands on her apron and picked up her drop spindle, determined to be industrious as she waited.
“Ah, Greta, how do you do?” Abraham stopped at the bake-oven and tipped his hat.
Greta looked up from her spinning and smiled. “Very well, thank you. It will be a great joy to taste bread again.”
“Ja. That it will. I am very pleased that the bake-oven is completed. It seems that every day we build something new!”
Greta nodded. “We are on our way to becoming a proper village! Why, I can only imagine how much we will have accomplished by this time next year!”
“Indeed.” Abraham paused. “But, these advances cannot be made without effort.”
“No. Clearly not.”
Abraham nodded and stroked his beard. “And we all must do our part, mustn’t we? We must partner together in order to grow our settlement and support one another.”
“Ja. We must all do our part.”
Abraham grinned. He nodded. “So you have agreed to—”
“Greta! What a pleasure.” Amos trotted toward them, his hand on his black beaver-felt hat to keep it in place as he hurried down the dirt lane.
“Hello, Amos.” Greta spoke politely, but she did not smile. She knew a setup when she saw one. “What a surprise to see you here.”
“Ja! Ja! What a surprise. All of us here, together.” Amos grinned and nodded.
Abraham cleared his throat. “Ja. Well, Greta and I were just enjoying a little chat about our settlement.” He glanced at Greta. “And she was just telling me that she has agreed to marry.”
Amos clapped his hands together. “Wunderbar!”
Greta felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Oh no! I did not mean . . . that is not what I said, exactly . . .” She shook her head. “There simply is no one suitable. Simply no one at all!”
“There is Jacob Miller, Greta!” Amos threw up his hands. “He has been visiting you daily!”
Greta looked mortified. “I did not realize that Jacob’s comings and goings were under such close scrutiny.”
“Oh, Greta, do not take offense,” Abraham cut in. “As you said yourself, this is a small settlement. How can we not take notice of what is happening?”
“Indeed.” Greta swallowed as she fought to keep her composure. “And what, if I may ask, is happening?” Jacob’s words from the day before rang in her head. He holds no affection for me!
Amos threw up his hands. “Why, Jacob Miller is courting you, of course!”
Greta pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten.
“Greta? Do you have a headache? My wife has just mixed an herbal concoction that you should try.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, thank you, Amos. My head is quite well.”
“Good. Now, about Jacob Miller. Are you betrothed yet?”
“Oh, Amos, he is not even courting me!”
Amos looked surprised. “No? Are you sure?”
“I am sure that I would know if I were being courted.”
The two elders stroked their beards.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It seems a very good match.”
“Ja. A very good match,” Amos echoed.
“I am sorry to disappoint you, but Jacob simply is not interested in me.”
Amos waved his hand. “Not interested? Preposterous.”
“Preposterous,” Abraham repeated. The two men shook their heads and frowned. “The truth is, Greta, you have responsibilities that go beyond yourself. We cannot expect for our humble settlement to survive if we do not join forces for the greater good.”
“Jacob needs a wife and you need a husband.”
Abraham nodded in agreement. “It is a good match. And, since he is courting you—”
“But I already told you that he is not courting me!”
Abraham blinked. “But, Greta . . .”
“I am sorry, Abraham, but we are simply not a match. There is no way around it. He and I are not suited to be in the same room together, let alone share a life together!”
The elders’ frowns deepened. Abraham raised an eyebrow. Amos shook his head and extended his hands palms up, in a pleading gesture. “Well, if that is the way you feel, I suppose we could consider a match between you and Mr. Hertzberger. He’s recently widowed, you know. . . .”
Greta grimaced. “I prefer a husband who is young enough to still have a few teeth left.”
Amos shrugged. “He is getting up in years, that is true, but he is a good man. A good match.”
“Not as good a match as Jacob Miller, mind you,” Abraham cut in. “But Mr. Hertzberger is a good man.”
Greta let out a long, slow breath of air. “Ja. I am sure that he is delightful.” She counted to ten as she struggled to maintain a polite expression.
“Well, you must marry someone.” Amos shook his head. “There is just no way around it.”
A group of children shouted and ran past the bake-oven. Greta glanced past Abraham, to the grinning, carefree faces. Suddenly, she had an unexpected idea. A brilliant, perfect idea.
“I believe I have a solution.”
“So you will marry?” Amos leaned closer. “You must admit there really is not another option.”
“No.”
“But, Greta, you cannot allow yourself to be a burden. Who will provide for you during the long, lean winter months?”
“As I said, I have a solution. Who is teaching the children to read?”
The two men glanced at each other and shrugged. “They have their parents.”
“But their parents are busy, are they not? The daily tasks are endless. I cannot believe that there are enough hours in the day for them to provide an adequate education.” The elders listened without commenting. Greta took a deep breath and pressed on. “And I am sure that you will agree that we all must learn to read in order to know der Herr’s Word. Not to mention the Ausbund and the Martyrs Mirror. Those are works that have been foundational to our faith, ja?”
The men nodded.
Greta grinned. “Well. I will do it. I will teach them.”
Abraham rubbed his chin. Amos tapped a finger against his lips.
Greta’s heart pounded as she prayed for their approval. This could be the answer to my dilemma! “I believe I could be quite useful, even though I am on my own.” She glanced from one man’s face to the other. “I could earn my keep, anyway.”
“Excuse me.” Maria Stoltzfus approached the trio with a basketful of dough. Three young children clung to her skirts. “I need to get to the bake-oven.”
Greta took the young mother’s sudden appearance as a sign. “Maria, what would you think if I offered to teach your children to read?” An expression of surprise passed over the disheveled woman’s face. “I would welcome it, I suppose.” She laughed. “I haven’t the time. That is for certain.” She bent to wipe a child’s nose and pull another child’s thumb from his mouth. She straightened back up and nodded. “Ja. I would welcome it.”
“Splendid!” Greta turned back to Amos and Abraham with a hopeful expression.
The two elders hesitated and then nodded their agreement.
“I had hoped for a more suitable arrangement,” Amos admitted. “A good marriage would have been ideal, but . . .”
“Then it is settled!”
The men glanced at each other and nodded again. “Ja. I supposed it is settled.”
&nbs
p; “On a trial basis,” Abraham added.
“Ja. On a trial basis,” Amos agreed.
“Wunderbar! I will not disappoint you.” Greta watched Maria’s children as they huddled around the mouth of the oven. “I will do my very best!” She felt a surge of excitement as she imagined helping those young, innocent minds learn and expand.
Maria turned around. “Greta?”
“Ja?”
“You have bread baking?”
“Ja.” She grinned and nodded.
“Then why is there still wood burning inside the oven?”
Greta’s face fell. “I don’t understand.”
“To get the right temperature for bread you have to pull the burning logs out before you put in the dough. Otherwise . . .” Maria slid the wooden paddle under Greta’s loaf and pulled it out. “It is a bit overdone, dear.”
Greta’s smile fell. Her first loaf of bread in the New World was burnt to a crisp.
* * *
Greta searched the settlement for the Fisher twins. She could not wait to share the news with them. Greta found them trudging down the main path, each of them balancing a yoke with water buckets over their shoulders. She hitched up her skirts and hurried toward them with a wide grin.
“Peter! Eliza! How would you like to come to my cabin every day? I am going to have a school!”
They rushed into her arms. “Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I am sorry! There has been so much work to do since I twisted my ankle.”
“Ja. We have been minding the fires to burn the brush so that the men can build more cabins and plant more crops.”
“Wunderbar. You are very good workers.”
Peter raised his chin. “We have cleared out the forest all the way to the creek.”
Greta beamed. “One day we will have real streets again, paved with cobblestone. And houses with more than one room!”
“For now, I will just be happy to have a school.” Eliza gazed up at Greta and slipped a small hand around her arm.
“Me too, Eliza.” Greta smiled, straightened the girl’s prayer kappe, and laid her palm over the child’s hand. “Come over tomorrow afternoon, after your work is over.” The children nodded, picked their buckets back up, and headed on their way.
Greta felt a growing sense of excitement as she went from cabin to cabin and recruited more families to join her makeshift school.
“Where will you meet?” Jonah Gruber asked after she knocked on his door and explained her plans. The Grubers’ six-year-old son, Christian, looked up at Greta with big brown eyes.
“I thought we could meet at the Widow Yoder’s cabin.”
Jonah nodded. “But we cannot do without him for very long. He is needed.”
“I suppose it could work if he gathers the kindling and hauls an extra bucket of water before he leaves,” Barbara Gruber said as she wiped her hands on her apron and crowded into the doorway.
“Ja. And, we will have less need of him during the winter months. I doubt we can spare him at all come spring.”
“Our lessons will be short. I will not keep him from his chores too long.”
“And”—Barbara Gruber leaned forward—“I understand that you will likely be occupied with more important things by spring.”
“More important things?”
“Why, marriage, obviously!”
“Ja.” Jonah nodded. “We are all pleased to hear of Jacob’s affections for you. It is a blessing to see der Herr lay down a new path for his life.”
“Oh.” Greta cringed inside. Not this again. “Jacob is a good man, I am sure.”
“Ja, a good man,” the couple repeated in unison.
“But we are not planning to marry.”
Barbara looked confused. “But, dear, he visited you every day for two weeks.” She glanced at her husband. “Not that anyone was paying attention.” Barbara cleared her throat. “It is just that, well, we are all eager to see Jacob move on with his life and he seems, we heard . . .”
Greta shook her head. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but his visits were purely out of concern for my welfare, mine and the Widow Yoder. He simply came to take care of the chores until my sprained ankle mended. Now that I am back on my feet he keeps to his own farm.”
Jonah shrugged. “Ah, well. As we said, Jacob is a good man.”
Barbara nodded. “A hardworking man.”
“It is just like him to see that his neighbors are well cared for.”
“Ja.” Barbara shrugged. “We will see what der Herr’s will is in the matter.”
Greta frowned but did not argue. Why does everyone think that Jacob and I are the perfect match?! Is it just because he and I are both available? Does no one realize that he wants nothing to do with me? When will this humiliation end?
“I suppose that you need to know him well to form a true opinion of him,” Barbara admitted. “His spirit is not as warm as it once was.”
“Ja.” Jonah sighed. “But he is still the same good man. Even if he tries to pretend otherwise.”
“Pretend?” Greta tilted her head and drew her eyebrows together.
“He has a loving heart beneath that tough exterior.”
“That thought has occurred to me.”
“Because it is true.” Jonah nodded.
“He just needs a good woman to remind him that there is still a plan for his life,” Barbara added.
“Ja.” Jonah nodded. “I am sure that he is interested. He just has not told you yet.”
“Ja,” Barbara echoed. “He is interested.”
“I appreciate your advice, but Jacob simply is not interested in me.” Greta looked down. “He has made that clear.”
The Grubers glanced at each other but did not reply. Their expressions made it plain enough that they did not believe her. There was an awkward silence until Greta took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Now, about teaching Christian to read. Could you send him to the Widow Yoder’s cabin once his chores are completed each day? I will send him home in time for his evening meal. I will only keep him for an hour or two. Can you spare him that long?”
“Just an hour or two?” Jonah tugged at his beard.
“Ja.” Greta glanced from him to Barbara.
“All right,” Jonah consented. “But just for a season, mind you. Come spring he will be in the fields with me from sunrise to sunset.”
“Ja.” Greta broke into a relieved grin. “I understand.”
Greta stood a little bit taller as she walked away from the Grubers and headed toward the next farm. It felt good to be of value to the community. “Who needs marriage? I can earn my own keep and make my own way. And what a difference I can make!”
A small, nagging feeling threatened to break her resolve. Maybe there is something to everyone’s insistence that Jacob and I are meant to be. Maybe teaching the children is just one part of what der Herr has planned for me. . . . She shook her head and pushed the question away. Today is a day to be happy and encouraged. Not to obsess over a man who told me that he wants nothing to do with me. Greta took a deep breath, raised her chin, and put all of her focus on recruiting another young mind to her little backcountry school.
Chapter Nine
Barbara turned toward her husband and nudged him as they watched Greta walk away. “Perhaps it is time that you returned that hammer to Jacob.”
Jonah ran his fingers through his beard. “I do believe that you are right.” He winked at his wife and headed over to his friend’s farm with the borrowed hammer in hand. He found Jacob behind the cabin, splitting firewood.
“Hello there, Jacob.” He held up the hammer. “I am returning this to you.”
Jacob shrugged. “I ran out of nails weeks ago. I am only using a mallet and pegs now.”
Jonah shrugged. “Well, here it is, regardless. Thank you for lending it.”
Jacob nodded. “Happy to do it.”
Jacob waited for Jonah to leave, but his friend hovered behind him. Jacob set
a thick piece of wood atop a tree stump and raised his ax. He swung the blade down and heaved the wood in two. Jonah still did not leave. Jacob sighed and tossed the two halves onto the woodpile. “It is nearly time for dinner. Care to join me?”
“I would be delighted.”
Why do I get the feeling that Jonah is here with an ulterior motive?
“There is not much. Just cold corn cakes.”
“Cold corn cakes sound perfect.”
The two men relaxed in the warmth of the fire as they chatted about the weather and the likelihood of a good crop of winter wheat.
“We need to put more flax in the ground, in addition to the wheat,” Jacob added, and lifted his arm. “My sleeve is worn through.”
Jonah studied the fabric and nodded. “Ja. ’Tis the same in our household. We all need more flax to spin into linen.”
Jacob picked up his corn cake. “Food before clothing, I suppose. There is so much to be done. It is a mammoth task to start from scratch.”
“Ja. But what a blessing the New World is!” Jonah swept his hand in a wide arc. “Our forefathers could not have imagined such bounty.”
Jacob nodded and wished that he felt the same enthusiasm. He looked into the distance and waited for his friend to leave.
Jonah cleared his throat and set down his pewter plate.
“Greta Scholtz came by our farm today.”
Jacob felt the corn cake stick to his throat. He swallowed hard and forced it down.
Jonah shook his head and smiled. “She has spirit, I tell you.”
“Does she?” Jacob pushed a crumb across his plate. “I really had not noticed.”
Jonah looked at Jacob with a skeptical expression that Jacob ignored. “She is starting a school.”
“A school?”
“Ja. She seems to think that she will never marry.” He shrugged. “She wants to support herself and be an asset to the community.”
Jacob looked away.
“Seems strange, a good woman like her convinced that she will not marry.”
Jacob shrugged. “Not everyone finds the right person.”
“Sometimes finding the right person is not the problem.”
Where the Heart Takes You Page 7
