CHAPTER 27

Other than helping downstairs in the kitchen when needed, I had remained at Karlina’s bedside since she’d taken ill. The doctor continued his daily visits, and though he assured me Karlina was on the road to recovery, I still worried. I had heard those exact words about my mother during her illness, but she had taken a turn for the worse and died. The doctor couldn’t be certain—and neither could I. With each passing day my fear mounted regarding Karlina’s health and about my future in the community.

Dr. Zimmer had been most unhappy when he learned I hadn’t immediately told him of the illness at the Sedlacek home, and I had received a stern warning from him as well as from Cousin George. In the future he expected me to send word to him rather than take such things upon myself. I doubted I would have a future in the colonies, but I didn’t voice that opinion to Dr. Zimmer. And I didn’t try to explain Mr. Sedlacek’s attitude toward doctors, for to argue would serve no purpose.

Though I had heard nothing further, I knew our visit to the Sedlacek farm would be reviewed by the elders. While caring for Karlina, I’d had ample opportunity to consider my actions and the influence I’d wielded upon her. Without my insistence, she would never have gone to the farm. Instead of lying in bed, she would be caring for the sheep and enjoying the arrival of spring. Thoughts of going before the elders to explain my actions caused a chill to course through my body. I could not expect them to grant me permission to remain in the colonies. They did not need the disruptions of an outsider—especially someone who willingly swayed one of their own to break rules.

As the days passed, my prayers became more earnest. I prayed for Karlina and I prayed for myself. Gradually she remained awake for longer periods. Her coughing and occasional nighttime moans decreased. During her waking hours we talked, and though she tired easily, her color returned. While she ate her meals, I regaled her with stories of life in Cincinnati, and I took heart in her progress.

Finally the doctor declared her well enough to be up and about for short periods of time. I decided it was our prayers that contributed to Karlina’s progress, as well as her determination to be at the barn by the time the shearing began.

If any punishment had been decided upon by the elders, we hadn’t been told, but both of us understood there would be consequences for our behavior. Yesterday I had asked Cousin George about the matter and was surprised when he said the problem had been turned over to the Grossebruderrat. He explained that the Bruderrat, the group of men consisting of the trustees and elders in East, was divided on their decision. The members of the Grossebruderrat consisted of men from each village, with the number of representatives being determined by population. Since East was the smallest of the colonies, Cousin George was the only member of the Grossebruderrat from our village. He patted my arm in a fatherly gesture. “I know the waiting is hard, but we meet only once a month.”

In truth, I was pleased about that bit of news, for it would give me a little more time in East before the elders decided my future. And I feared the decision would not go in my favor, since even the elders in East could not agree about my punishment. There were those who thought I should leave and others who disagreed. It was when I heard of their inability to reach a decision that I had packed most of my belongings into my large trunk. I didn’t shed any tears when I folded and carefully packed most of my belongings, but I knew that would not be the case if I waited until I received the final decision.

I continued to pray the Grossebruderrat would not force me to leave. I wanted to decide for myself where I would live. But that wasn’t the way of things in the colonies: The decision would not be mine. I rejoiced for at least this bit of extra time, for I wanted to be the one who explained my actions to Berndt.

Cousin Louise never divulged how she knew I’d been meeting Berndt, but this morning she pulled me aside and gave me permission to meet him later today. Along with the permission, she gave me instructions. “You should get no ideas about a future in the colonies and make no promises to Berndt. It is not fair when you do not know what the elders will decide. In addition, you have not yet shown that you are able to follow the rules of the community.”

I wanted to argue that many had difficulty following all of the rules, but to disparage another member of the community would not win favor. Besides, I didn’t want to say anything that could be considered a condemnation of Karlina. I walked into the small room where we sorted the mail and emptied the contents onto the table. I had promised Cousin Louise I would complete the task before I went to meet Berndt.

I had almost finished sorting when my gaze fell upon my father’s familiar script. It had been some time since he had written. I couldn’t condemn him. My letters had been less frequent, too, but I was eager to see what news had prompted his letter. I slid my finger beneath the seal, although before I had finished opening the envelope, I stopped. Had Cousin Louise written to my father and told him of my misdeed? I attempted to calculate the number of days. If she had immediately written to him and he had wasted no time in responding, there likely would have been time for the exchange of letters, but I shook off the idea. Cousin Louise had been far too busy to write to my father. At least I hoped that would prove to be the case.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, my attention moved from my father’s letter to the remaining mail. I quickly sorted and placed the envelopes in their proper slots. “The mail is sorted, Dovie?” Cousin Louise peeked around the doorjamb.

“Yes, I just finished.” I picked up the letter from my father. “I received a letter from my father.”

“That is gut. It has been a while since he has written, ja?”

I nodded. “Neither of us has been writing as often over the past two months.”

“You will need to tell me what he has to say about his life in Texas. I hope he is finding some happiness. I am sure it is hard for him. Moving to a new city while he is still grieving your Mutter and not having you there, either—I am sure he is lonely.”

I didn’t comment, for I wasn’t sure if my father and the lovely lady he’d mentioned in his earlier letter had continued to see each other. Cousin Louise removed the mail from her family’s box and trundled off toward the other room.

With a thrust of my index finger, I finished opening the envelope and, leaning against the sorting table, scanned the pages. There it was—a reference to the lovely woman he had met. I slowed to a word-by-word examination of the contents.

In my last letter, I mentioned a lady I had met. Her name is Ardella Mitchell. I think you would like her. We have been seeing each other and have much in common.

How much could he have in common with the woman? My father worked for the railroad and traveled a great deal. Maybe she had traveled to the places he’d visited, or perhaps she enjoyed reading. My father did enjoy discussing the many books that he read. Or maybe she held a position with the railroad, though I doubted that idea. My father was never one to think women should work outside the home. Then again, if she was a widow, maybe she’d been forced to go to work and viewed my father as an opportunity to resume her former way of life. I forced myself to stop guessing and returned to the letter.

I know you may find this news disturbing, but once the proper mourning period has ended, I plan to marry Ardella. No doubt you will think my decision rash, but I am lonely and she has been an excellent companion to me. Please do not think that my haste to remarry means that I do not miss your dear mother. It was my desire to live out the remainder of my years as her husband, but since her death I find myself in need of love and companionship. I do not think she would have wished me to remain alone. I hope you will feel the same way.

I pressed a palm to my cheek. I should be pleased to learn that my father had found someone with whom to share his life. Instead, a clawing sense of betrayal inched its way from my feet to the top of my head. How could he? So soon. In a few more days, it would be only nine months since my mother’s death. Could he not have waited longer before he pledged his love to another woman? Tears threatened as I continued to read.

Ardella is eager to meet you and has expressed a deep desire to build a friendship with you. She is a fine woman, and I believe you will like her very much. She is hopeful you will come to Dallas and live with us once we are married. Ardella has a lovely home and says there is more than adequate room for you. She is eager for you to make your home with us. I know this is a great deal for you to take in, but with an open mind and loving spirit, I know the two of you will become dear friends.

So they had already formed their plans—not only to marry but also where they would live. If the elders decided to send me from the colonies, I would be making my home with my father and his new bride. I tried to envision how all of this had happened so rapidly. My father had said he would be traveling a great deal, yet he’d had time to develop a committed relationship with Ardella. Still, I had to consider my part in all of this. Had I gone to Texas, my father wouldn’t have been as likely to seek the companionship of a woman. I sighed and returned to the final paragraph.

Please write soon so I must not worry for too long. It is my deep desire to gain your understanding and to know you will embrace these decisions regarding my our future. I send my love and hope to hear from you by return mail. Love, Papa

I didn’t miss the fact that he had crossed out the word my and inserted our. Nor did I miss his signature. He knew that signing Papa would touch my heart with greater force than if he’d signed Father. There was little doubt he wanted my approval. He had added a hasty postscript at the end, saying Ardella would like permission to write to me.

It seemed they were going to do everything they could to gain my acceptance. I pondered the letter for a brief time and then tucked it into my pocket. If I didn’t leave right now for my meeting with Berndt, I’d miss him. I stepped to the doorway of the mail room and spied Cousin Louise in the kitchen. “I’m leaving, Cousin Louise.”

She looked up from the worktable. “There was gut news from your Vater?”

“I suppose it depends upon how one interprets good news.” I forced a smile. “I’ll read it to you when I return.”

“Ja, that would be nice.” If my remark about good news confused her, she gave no indication. “Remember what I have told you about your talk with Berndt.”

“I remember,” I called before rushing out the door.

My thoughts were a jumble as I went to meet Berndt. There was so much I must explain to him, yet I wasn’t certain I could control my emotions. I was pleased to discover we were not brother and sister, yet trying to accept the fact that we were not related and I could indeed let myself love him as a woman loves a man felt very strange. I could only hope that once he understood why my behavior toward him had changed, he would still care for me. Of course it would matter little if the Grossebruderrat insisted I leave. I’d have no choice but to go to Texas.

As I recalled the contents of my father’s letter, my heart squeezed with sorrow at the thought of his replacing my dear mother. But I hadn’t walked far when I remembered what Cousin Louise had told me about my Opa and how he hadn’t let my mother follow her heart and remain in the colonies. My father had wanted me to move to Texas with him, but he gave me the opportunity to follow my own path.

If I’d gone with him, perhaps he wouldn’t have met Ardella. But that’s not what happened. I came to the colonies, and Papa met Ardella. We both traveled our own paths. How could I fault him for wanting to fill the void in his life? I wasn’t required to find joy in his choice, but I needed to show him the same respect and kindness he’d shown me.

A bird cawed overhead and I turned toward the barn. Berndt said he would be there by two o’clock. Cousin Louise had given permission, but a young man and woman visiting alone was not looked upon with favor. Originally I had suggested we meet at the pond, but Cousin Louise said we could have our choice: the back porch or the barn. I quickly chose the barn, for on days when the weather was nice, several of the older sisters would sit on the back porch to clean and pare vegetables—and talk. I didn’t want them to overhear my conversation with Berndt.

In the distance I could see Berndt walking toward the barn, so I quickened my pace. I didn’t want him to think I wouldn’t be there.

Berndt saw me as I rounded the corner of the barn, and he waved and strode toward me. “Would you like to walk, or would you rather stay here at the barn?”

I glanced toward the barn. I knew Karlina wasn’t in there. Cousin Louise had insisted she rest after the noonday meal. She’d been unhappy because the shepherds and some hired hands had begun the sheep washing, and she’d wanted to be there during the process.

“Do you know where they’re washing the sheep?”

Berndt grinned and nodded. “Ja, at the pond. I was thinking it was gut we didn’t meet there, but if you want to go and watch, we can do that.”

“I’ve heard Karlina talk about it, so I thought it would be fun to see how it is done, but first I think we should talk. I have a lot to tell you.”

He motioned toward a tree a short distance from the barn. “I hope what you have to say will make me happy.”

His smile was as bright as the sun-drenched afternoon. My heart pounded a new beat as we walked to a large oak tree and stood beneath the towering branches. My voice quivered while I did my best to explain everything from my desire to learn of my mother’s past to thinking he was my half brother, to the revelation that my assumptions had been completely incorrect.

Berndt listened intently and interrupted only once. When I had finally completed the tale, he rubbed his jaw. “So that is the reason you changed how you acted toward me? Because you thought we were brother and sister?”

“Yes.” Though I knew it would embarrass me, I needed to tell Berndt the truth. “I . . . I had started to think of you as a man I could love.” Heat spread across my cheeks, but I forced myself to continue. “But then I read those letters and began to investigate. Soon I came to believe you were my half brother, and I knew my feelings for you had to change.”

Using the tips of his fingers, he gently lifted my chin until our eyes met. “And now that you know we are not relatives, have those earlier feelings returned?”

Discomfort assailed me. How could I answer such a question and maintain my modesty? A woman didn’t declare her love for a man until she was certain of their future plans to wed. At least that’s what Margaret Holmann told me back when we’d attended school together years ago. Margaret had adopted the role of authority on young men back then, as she was never without an escort at her side. And all of the girls had listened to her.

I finally gathered enough courage to speak. “I believe my feelings for you are equal to those you possess for me.”

Berndt’s serious look gave me pause. I wasn’t certain what he was thinking. Had he expected a more direct response?

He leaned toward me. “In that case, I suggest that I go and speak with the elders tomorrow. I will tell them we love each other and seek permission to marry.”

I gasped and pressed my hand to the bodice of my dress. “Oh no. You cannot speak to the elders. That is impossible.”

He arched his brows. “And why is that? I know they may have some misgivings, but once you declare your desire to live in the colonies and embrace our faith, they will agree. I am sure of it. Your grandparents and Mutter lived here; you still have relatives here—there will be no problem.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. After they learned that Karlina and I visited the Sedlacek farm, the Bruderrat in East could not come to a decision about my future in the colonies. The matter has been passed on to the Grossebruderrat for determination. They may elect to have me leave. I didn’t follow the rules, and I caused Karlina to go astray.” I lowered my head. “I don’t think they will look kindly upon my request to remain here.”

Berndt squared his shoulders and inhaled a deep breath. “I will convince them! You are the woman I wish to marry. If you feel the same, then I will do everything in my power to influence the Grossebruderrat that they should give you another chance.” One corner of his mouth tipped in a smile. “They were young men at one time, too. They will listen to my plea.”

He looked deep into my eyes and stepped closer. When he wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me into an inviting embrace, I didn’t resist. A flash of heat seared my cheeks as I met his ardent gaze, and my knees felt as though they might buckle. He lowered his head and covered my lips with a passionate kiss. A delightful tremble raced through my body as I responded to the warmth of his kiss. I belonged right here—in Berndt’s arms.

“Say you wish to be with me always, Dovie.”

“I do want to be with you forever and remain in East, but—”

He touched his finger to my lips. “Then with God’s help, we will be together. Trust me.” With a wink, he grasped my hand. “Let’s go and see how much progress they have made washing the sheep.”

I smiled and nodded. “Oh yes. Karlina will expect a report from me.” I glanced at our clasped hands. “But I do not think holding hands is wise.”

He chuckled. “We are safe for a little while.”

We walked as far as we dared with our hands clasped, but once we caught a glimpse of the men at the pond, I pulled my hand away and put a little distance between us. There were a number of men standing in the water, as well as those who were moving the sheep toward the water. “Have you ever helped wash the sheep?”

“Nein. It is not something that appeals to me. Have you ever smelled a wet sheep?”

I laughed and shook my head.

“You’ll soon discover that it’s not a very pleasant odor.”

As we approached, Cousin George motioned for us to stay at a distance. A short time later he walked toward us. “Sheep don’t particularly like being washed, so they’re a little skittish. You need to stay over here where we’re washing them rather than with the ones on the hillside. The men are trying to keep them calm so that when they herd them down, they’re easier to handle.”

I glanced toward the rise. With all of the woolly sheep, it looked as if a snowstorm had descended upon the hillside. Karlina said the sheep preferred the closeness of their flock, so I thought they should be profoundly happy at the moment. The three of us walked toward the water, where the men had partitioned off a shallow section of the pond with wood slats that reminded me of a narrow corral. The sheep had been herded into a wagon, and one by one, they came down a ramp with protective sides and into the water. One of the men stood in the knee-high water and briefly submerged each animal, head and all, and then pushed it along to the next man, who sent the sheep up another wood ramp and into the bed of the wagon waiting at the opposite side. Once the wagon of dirty sheep had been emptied, the shepherds loaded another flock into the wagon and the process began anew. The clean sheep were taken back to the pasture, where the sun would help their wool dry before shearing took place.

“What do you think of our method?” Cousin George asked while he waited for another load of dirty sheep.

I wrinkled my nose. “It appears to be efficient, although wet sheep have an odor—and it isn’t particularly pleasurable.”

Cousin George tipped his head back and laughed. “You get used to it after a while.” He pointed to the partitioned area in the water. “Before we started washing them this way, we used to take them one at a time into the water, and with one man at the head and one at the tail, we would grab hold of their hooves and swing them to and fro in the water to remove the excess yolk.”

I arched my brows. The only yolk I knew about was the yolk inside an egg. Cousin George grinned. “Sheep yolk is the oily secretion that covers a sheep’s wool. It protects the sheep from rain and keeps the wool from becoming matted. When some of that substance is removed, the sheep are easier to shear.” He rested one palm on his opposing shoulder. “It was hard on the shoulders. This is better and we can wash more than seven hundred sheep in one day.”

The thought of washing that many sheep in one day amazed me. I was certain the men would be exhausted by the time they had completed this chore. Another wagonload of sheep was positioned near the water, and Cousin George watched closely as the men set up the ramp. “You tell Karlina I do not want her to come down here. Being around the water and the wet sheep will not be gut for her. She needs to rest, and then she can be at the barn when we begin shearing.”

“I’ll tell her, but I know she won’t be happy with your decision.”

“It is for the best.” He tipped his hat, turned, and strode off toward the wagon.

We watched a while longer, and I wasn’t sure if I felt more sympathy for the sheep or for the men who washed them. The men sounded as though they were enjoying themselves, while the bleating sheep appeared far less happy.

I was afraid Karlina would feel more like one of the unhappy sheep when I delivered the message from her father. But even the thought of delivering unpleasant news to Karlina couldn’t spoil my own happiness or squelch my excitement. The possibility of a future with Berndt burned warm in my heart.