A Simple Change (17 page)

Grasping Mother around the waist, I gently helped her out of bed and into the chair.

“Is that what you're hoping?”

“I don't know, Mother.” One by one, I removed the containers from the basket and placed them on the table.

She tipped her head and looked into my eyes. “You should be careful with the affections of others, Jancey. It would seem you have two men interested in a future with you. I'm sure you don't want to hurt either one of them. Am I right?”

“Yes, of course.” I handed her a napkin and silverware, and then poured a glass of water from the pitcher beside her bed. “I know this sounds foolish, but when I'm with Ritt, I have this feeling deep inside that I can't explain—kind of like anticipation mixed with joy. He's kind and has a good heart. I feel as though I truly come alive when I'm around him, though he has never spoken of marriage.”

My mother's lips curved in a slight smile. “I see. And when you're with Nathan?”

“I've never had such feelings with Nathan. He has some
qualities that are admirable. He works hard and is interested in marriage and family—at least that's what he's told me from time to time. While Ritt is interested in what I think and what makes me happy, Nathan believes he can decide what will make me happy.” I sighed as she took a sip of water. “What drew you to Father?”

“I respected your father, and we were unified in our beliefs.” My mother returned the glass of water to the bedside table. “I suppose reasons people marry vary from person to person, but I believe that without those two ingredients, a marriage is doomed for unhappiness. Women thrive on affirmations of love, but men thrive on affirmations of respect. And how can you show respect if you have little or none?” She didn't wait for me to answer before she continued with another question. “Do you respect both of these young men?”

I contemplated her question. There wasn't any doubt I respected Ritt, but I couldn't say I completely respected Nathan. Perhaps because his primary interests seemed to center around work and purchasing my father's construction business rather than placing value on building our relationship.

My mother reached out and squeezed my hand. “Since you must give this some thought, I am sure you haven't developed a deep respect for at least one of these young men. Although I would love to see you marry before . . . in the near future, I believe it is important to take time and be certain you make the proper choice. You need to spend time in prayer as you attempt to make your decision, and I will do the same.”

She inhaled a deep breath. “Now go and see what news Nathan has to tell you, and I will eat.”

I dipped into the basket and placed the napkin-wrapped cookies
on Mother's table. “Sister Hanna sent prune cookies for you and says you should eat all of them.” I sucked in my cheeks. “She thinks you are too thin.”

“I'll do my best.” She gestured toward the doorway. “You go on. I'm fine.”

I didn't know what news Nathan would have, but I did know Mother was right: I needed to pray about my future, and I needed to be certain I could always respect the man I married. As much as I wanted my mother alive to attend my wedding, I would do my best to wait upon God's direction.

I settled my attention on Nathan as I strode into the parlor. “How did your meeting go? Did you have a tour of the mill and meet with the supervisors?”

Nathan patted the empty space beside him on the sofa. “Sit here and I'll tell you everything.”

Instead of doing his bidding, I sat down in the chair opposite him. “It is better if we don't sit close together.”

A spark of anger flashed in his eyes. “There is no one here to see us. I think you are taking these rules too far.”

I ignored his comment. I didn't want to argue. “What did you think of the mill?”

“It looks to be a good place to work. The ample windows provide a great deal of sunlight, and I was surprised to see vases filled with flowers on the windowsills.” He chuckled. “They did add a nice touch to the rooms. The mill is larger than Watkins, but I don't think the men work at the same rapid pace as was expected at the Watkins Mill. That surprised me. And we didn't have midmorning and midafternoon work stoppages at Watkins to enjoy coffee and cake, either.”

“What happened after you toured the mill this morning?”

He sighed. “I accepted a position.”

“In Middle or Main Amana?”

“Why would I go to another village to work when I came here to be near you? That would make no sense, would it?”

I shrugged and gave him a faint smile. “I don't know, Nathan. Since you didn't discuss your intentions with me before arriving, how could I know what would make sense?”

“You say you don't know my intentions, but I've made them perfectly clear.” He leaned forward and rested his arms across his legs. “You know I care for you, and if living here will prove that to you, I'm willing to do so.”

He was right. We were going in circles and accomplishing little. “So you will be living in the men's quarters?”

He nodded. “One of the outsiders took me to see the quarters while we were on midmorning break. I thought I'd see you when we were there, but you were nowhere in sight.” He leaned closer. “Where were you?”

His question sounded like an accusation. “I was hanging laundry near the washhouse located a short distance away.”

He straightened and then leaned back. “It's hard to imagine you doing laundry. Is that really what you want to do with your life?”

“I don't know what I want for the rest of my life, but for now I'm content cleaning and doing laundry.” I swallowed hard. “Have you met all of the other men who live in the quarters?”

“Since we're not allowed to talk during meals, I've met only a few of them. The ones who work in the mill.”

My stomach lurched. He'd probably met and talked to Thomas. What if Thomas had already told him about his sister? Even worse, what if he'd told Nathan that I'd been helping him? “Which one of the men took you to see the dormitory?”

“Thomas Kingston or Kingman—something like that. Why do you ask?”

My heart pounded until I thought it would explode within my chest. “I didn't know how accepting the men were when someone new arrived.”

“I didn't come here to make friends with the other workers, but he was nice enough. He said he planned to leave once he got some things straightened out in his life.” Nathan chuckled. “I told him I planned to leave once I got a few things straightened out, too.”

I wanted to ask what else he and Thomas had discussed, but the words stuck in my throat. Why had my simple life in Amana become so complicated?

Chapter 17

A short time later, Nathan departed for the hotel to gather his belongings and move them to the dormitory while I returned to work. Before going to the washhouse to help Margaret, I wanted to stop by the men's quarters. I wasn't certain of the time, but I'd remained at home far too long. I hastened my step. The stop wouldn't take much time, and I wanted to know if Thomas had retrieved my note.

Beads of perspiration dotted my forehead and upper lip by the time I arrived at the men's quarters. Taking long strides, I rushed through the sitting room and came to a halt beside Thomas's bed. There was no need to lift the picture of Kathleen. I could see my note was gone. I swiped the corner of my apron across my forehead and inhaled a deep breath. Thomas must have picked up the note when he'd shown Nathan through the quarters.

I didn't want to believe he'd mentioned the note or me to Nathan, but my timing could not have been worse. Everything had come together in the wrong place and at the wrong time. I tried to think what I would have done in Thomas's circumstance. I'd warned him not to mention our meetings to others, but would he think that included a new outsider—a man who had roots in Kansas City, knew me, and could possibly provide even more help locating his sister?

As I grasped the possibility, my knees grew weak and I dropped to the side of the bed. Thus far, Thomas hadn't proved to have a long memory when it came to the instructions I'd given him regarding the secretive nature of our dealings. I'd been strident with him the last time we'd talked, and I hoped he'd taken my warning to heart.

A horse whinnied and men's voices drifted through the open front door. I jumped to my feet as Nathan hollered his thanks for the ride. Without so much as a glance over my shoulder, I raced out the rear door and across the grassy expanse to the washhouse. I clasped a hand to my chest and panted for breath as I walked inside.

Margaret's mouth dropped open when she turned and looked at me. “Why you are running? Is not gut to run on a day that is so hot.”

Still gasping for air, I leaned against the wooden doorjamb. “I'm late and I didn't want you to worry.” The heat in the room was oppressive, but that hadn't stopped Margaret from lighting a fire in the stove. When I questioned her, she pointed to the tin coffeepot sitting atop the stove. “I like my coffee hot.”

Though I couldn't imagine drinking hot coffee when the temperatures soared, I nodded. She clopped across the room, wearing the wooden shoes we donned to keep our leather shoes
from getting wet when we laundered clothes. After changing her shoes, she pointed to the empty basket. “Already I hung out the work clothes, but together we will take down the sheets and fold them.”

We each picked up a large woven basket and walked to the rope clotheslines that had been strung between cross-style posts. The wooden posts reminded me of the cross where Jesus had died for my sins, and in spite of the heat, I shivered. I couldn't imagine such a death—or such love. The enormity of His selfless act of dying to wash away my sins and provide a path to eternal life had become more evident to me since coming to Middle Amana. Throughout these past couple of months I'd begun to think of Jesus as a friend I could talk to—a personal intercessor who wanted to hear my problems and was never too busy for me. Perhaps it was the quietude and bucolic surroundings that drew me closer to Him. I couldn't be sure.

I was pleased by the modicum of inner peace I'd gained since my arrival, but feelings of guilt still plagued me. I should be completely honest with both Ritt and Nathan. I'd prayed for guidance and the ability to make a clear choice about my future, but I still hadn't received an answer. Why did it seem so easy for others to wait upon God, but not for me? Then again, maybe it wasn't easy; maybe they simply waited in silence.

Margaret nudged my arm. “You are going to help me or stand there and stare at the post?” She held one end of a dry sheet in her hand.

I stepped a short distance from her, removed the wooden clothespin, and walked toward her while holding my end of the sheet. We moved back and forth, quickly folding the sheets and pillowcases before placing them in our baskets.

“Your Mutter is not doing so well?”

“Nein, she is doing better. I think tomorrow she will be able to come with us to the kitchen house.” As I unpinned another sheet, realization dawned on me. “I wasn't late because of Mutter. Nathan was waiting at the house when I got there, and he wanted to talk to me.”

I hadn't wanted to discuss Nathan further with Margaret, but she deserved an honest explanation.

“If you tell me he is going back home, I know it will make Ritt very happy.”

My heart skipped a beat. Exactly what had Ritt told John Olson? If I could keep Margaret focused upon Ritt, maybe she wouldn't ask so many questions about Nathan.

Instead of responding to her comment, I asked a question of my own. “Why do you think it would make Ritt happy? Has he been talking to John about me?”

She giggled. “Ja, but I am not supposed to know.”

“What did he say, Margaret?”

She glanced over one shoulder and then the other. I smiled, uncertain why she thought anyone would be close enough to overhear. “He told John he likes you very much and hopes you will stay in the colonies. He thinks you have a gut heart.”

“That's wonderful to know. I think he's very nice, as well.” My cheeks warmed, and I dropped another sheet into the basket. “But please don't repeat to John what I've told you.” I bent forward until we were eye to eye. “Promise?”

“Ja, I promise. But now you must tell me more about Nathan. If not for you, why else would he come here?”

There seemed no way to escape Margaret's questions. If I didn't answer today, I'd face the same inquiry tomorrow or the next day.
“It's true that he came here to try to persuade me to return, but I didn't ask him to come.”

“So he is in love with you?”

“He says he wants to marry me, but I'm not convinced of his love.”

Margaret's frown deepened. “This I do not understand. Why else would he want to marry you?”

I didn't want to tell her that my father's business likely interested Nathan as much, or possibly more, than I did. Margaret wasn't familiar with marriages that had been forged for power, money, or social status. After all, none of that mattered here, and I would never have enough time to explain the workings of the outside world to Margaret.

I tried to think of something that would help her understand. I touched my finger to the side of my head. “Up here, he thinks it would be good to marry me.” I moved my finger to my heart. “In here, I am not sure he feels true love. When I came here, I told him it would be good for us to have time apart. He could discover if he really loved me, and I could do the same.”

She bobbed her head. “Ja, like our year of separation when a couple becomes engaged.” I agreed and hoped that would put her questions to rest, but when I reached for the basket, she grasped my arm. “What about your heart? Does it feel true love for him?”

I shook my head. “No. Not yet.”

“That is gut for Ritt.” When I lifted my hand in protest, she chuckled. “I will not tell him, but still it is gut.”

I didn't have to wait long for a response from Thomas. The following morning, a note lay beneath the picture of Kathleen.
Once Margaret set to work, I picked up the letter, moved to the other side of the sleeping room where I was sure she wouldn't see me, unfolded the piece of paper, and skimmed the contents.

He asked that I contact Lilly and secure the name of the adoptive family and an address for Kathleen, if possible.

It would be easier if Kathleen could write to me instead of going through others. You can give them my address when you write. I hear you know Nathan, the new fellow who started work yesterday. Don't worry. I won't say nothing. As soon as you hear from the lady in Kansas City, leave me a note. TK

In the future, both Thomas and I would need to be more careful with our notes. Granted, his note didn't contain my name, but if Nathan had picked it up, he would have known it was intended for me. After telling Nathan I was trying to live by the rules of the colonists, he'd have a lot of questions for me. Questions I wouldn't be able to answer to his satisfaction.

I tucked the letter into my pocket as Margaret rounded the corner.

She held a broom in one hand and a metal dustpan in the other. “I am doing my best to complete as much as I can today. You remember that you will be here by yourself on Monday. Ja?”

I stared at her, unable to immediately redirect my thoughts. “Myself?”

Her smile faded as she tapped the bristles of the straw broom on the wooden floorboards. “Ja, yourself. Unless it rains, onion harvest begins on Monday.”

“Yes. Onion harvest. I'd forgotten.”

Her frown deepened. “You would not forget if you were going
to be out in the hot sun on your hands and knees pulling the onions. Believe me, it makes for long, hard days.”

I was surprised by her lack of eagerness. After hearing Madelyn's enthusiastic tales, I had volunteered to help with the onion harvest. But when the list of workers was announced, my name hadn't been chosen. Instead, I was assigned to take over extra duties at my regular job. Of course, not everybody helped with the onion harvest, but anyone who could be released from regular duty was assigned to the task. And for those like me, it meant extra work at our usual job.

“Madelyn tells me that onion harvest and grape picking are her favorite times of year. That's why I volunteered. I don't know why I wasn't chosen instead of you.”

Margaret chortled. “Madelyn and the other children like onion harvest because they are released from school. For them it is more fun to pull onions in the hot sun than to sit in the schoolroom. When I was in school, I looked forward to time in the fields, too, but not anymore.” She pointed to her knees. “Is hard on the knees and the hands, but the onion crop helps provide for all of us, so I should not complain.”

One evening after I'd completed reading lessons with the girls, Ritt had explained that onions were grown in abundance in the villages. “We grow enough for ourselves,” he'd told me, “but we also sell our Ebenezer onions and onion seeds to the outside world. Many seed companies want our seeds because the quality is very gut.”

“And Sister Anna thinks her seeds are the very best,” Madelyn had volunteered.

When I expressed my confusion, Madelyn told me that each garden boss, along with the other women assigned to work in the
garden, planted and cared for beds of onion sets as well as the large plots that were planted to produce seeds. “When they weighed the seeds from Sister Anna's garden last year, she had almost four hundred pounds of seeds.”

Ritt laughed when I gasped in surprise. “It's true. In Middle we sometimes harvest over two thousand pounds of onions,” he'd said. I couldn't imagine such a mountain of onions.

Margaret handed me the dustpan. While I held the flat base against the floor, she swept a small mound of dirt into the metal container. “When it is time for the onion seed harvest in August, you should speak to Sister Anna. She might let you help. Is probably better you try the smaller harvest in the gardens before you try working out in the fields.”