Even though Karla hadn’t promised to give him a chance the night of the taffy pull, she’d been less guarded around him, and Frank decided that was a good sign. He would continue to pray that God would work in her heart to reveal that he should not be judged based upon the behavior of another man. If he continued to treat her with love, kindness, and affection, surely the walls she had built around her heart would drop like the walls that had surrounded Jericho.
As a young boy, Frank had learned the Bible story of Joshua and the Israelite army circling the city of Jericho with the priests blowing their trumpets until, on the seventh day, the walls fell. He grinned as he arranged several bottles on the shelf of the apothecary. Maybe he should circle around Karla, blowing on a horn until the walls around her heart came down. Now that would be something, for sure!
“What’s so funny, Brother Frank?” Leaning heavily on his cane, Brother Hueber hobbled from the back room.
Frank tapped his finger on the side of his head. “I was just thinking about something. I doubt anyone else would find it amusing.” He pointed to the older man’s cane. “You’re having more trouble walking today, ja?”
Brother Hueber rested his cane against the walnut counter, where an old balance with generous brass pans awaited the weighing of compounds to heal the sick and ailing. “A little, but not so much that I can’t do my job.” An array of colored and clear glass bottles filled with tinctures, powders, and herbs lined the many shelves of the apothecary. The scent of burning pine and oak radiated from the heating stove and mingled with the familiar herbal and medicinal odors as Brother Hueber gazed around the shop. “You have done a gut job keeping everything in order for me.” The old man reached forward and rearranged two of the bottles. “There, that is better.”
Frank grinned. No matter how perfectly he aligned the bottles, Brother Hueber always moved one or two. “Are you feeling gut enough that I can leave and go to the school?”
“Ja, ja.” He gestured toward the front door. “Be on your way, and be sure to tell the boys how they should do gut in their studies so they can go to college and become a doctor, pharmacist, or schoolteacher.”
Frank was eager to go and talk to the boys, but more than that, he hoped to catch a glimpse of Karla teaching her knitting classes at strickschule.
With a shuddering groan, the older man eased into the chair and pointed his cane toward the wall of brass-handled drawers that filled a cabinet below the shelves. “If you would bring me my Bible, I can read until I have a customer.”
Frank handed him the Bible before shrugging into his coat. “I should not be gone more than an hour.”
Brother Hueber opened the leather cover of his Bible. “Any suggestions on what I should read while you’re gone?”
“I’ve been thinking about Joshua a great deal this morning. Maybe you would enjoy reading about the battle he fought at Jericho.”
The older man scratched his balding head. “Joshua it will be, then.” He pushed his glasses against the bridge of his nose and thumbed through the feathery pages of his Bible. “Take all the time you need.”
Frank pushed down on the heavy metal latch and stepped outside. He’d gone only a few steps when he turned up his collar and bent his head against the north wind. Already, he missed the cozy wood-burning stove, but talking to Karla would be worth suffering the cold temperatures. Though his fingers remained stiff and cold, the thought of her warmed his heart.
If he picked up his pace to a jog, he would keep warmer and be inside the school much sooner. At least that was his hope as he propelled himself toward the school, all the time being mindful of slippery patches of ice. When the school came into view, he returned to his familiar long stride. He gulped air, each breath stinging his lungs as he inhaled. Maybe jogging hadn’t been such a grand idea after all. Outside the door of the schoolhouse, he leaned forward and rested his gloved hands on his knees. He’d wait outside long enough for his breathing to steady.
He didn’t want to walk into the classroom and collapse. What a sight that would be. Instead of helping Brother Reichman with the children, Frank would become another burden for the old schoolteacher.
“Frank! Are you ill?”
Surprised, he jerked upright and turned. “Karla! I didn’t hear you.” He clasped a gloved hand to his chest. “I’m fine.”
“Truly? You don’t look fine.” She arched her eyebrows and stared at him.
From the look in her eyes, she appeared both confused and concerned. And he couldn’t blame her. No doubt he’d made quite a spectacle of himself. He pointed a thumb toward the door. “I’m going to talk to Brother Reichman’s class about studying hard and making gut grades in school.”
“So why were you bent over? I thought you might be having chest pains.”
“Nein. My heart is beating fine.” He patted his chest. “I was out of breath from running. The cold air made it hard for me to breathe.”
Karla turned toward the small building where she taught handwork to the children. “My class will begin soon. I should go inside.” She pulled her cloak tighter. “Besides, it is cold.”
He reached forward and placed his hand on her arm. “I thought I would stop in the strickschule when I finish my talk at the school.”
She tipped her head to the side and looked up at him. “For what reason?”
His frustration pulsed to life. He sighed. “Because I would like to see you work with the children and because I enjoy your company. Is that reason enough?”
She giggled, and he stopped. She’d been teasing him. Finally.
“I’m not sure it is proper, and the children might find it hard to concentrate with you there.”
“They will or you will?” He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “I will prove that you’re wrong about the children.” He grinned and tapped his finger on the tip of her nose. “Just wait and see.”
Karla sat down beside young Louisa Neffbaum and covered the girl’s hands with her own. “Let’s try this, Louisa. While holding your hands, I will guide your fingers through several of the stitches and see if that will help.”
When the little girl looked up, Karla noticed a tear forming in one of her cornflower-blue eyes. “Danke, but I don’t think I will ever learn.” Her lower lip trembled as the tear slipped down her plump, rosy cheek. “What will I give my Mutter for Christmas if I cannot finish the mittens?”
“You will finish in time. If necessary, I will stay late and help you. There is no need to cry, Louisa.”
“But the rest of the class have already finished and are knitting or crocheting other gifts.”
“You should not compare yourself to others, Louisa. God gives each of us special talents. While some of the other girls may knit at a faster pace than you, I’m sure there are things you can do better than them. It is best if we are thankful for however we look and whatever talents God gives us, don’t you think?”
“Ja, I think that is right, Sister Karla.” Both Karla and Louisa twisted around to see Frank standing behind them. “That is a gut lesson to always remember—even for big people like me and Sister Karla.” He smiled at Louisa and pointed to a completed mitten resting on Karla’s lap. “If that is the mitten you’re making, I think it looks like a very difficult pattern for such a young girl. I’m pretty gut at knitting, and I’m not sure I could knit that pretty pattern.”
Louisa’s eyes sparkled. “Sister Stuke made the pattern for us. She called it the Homestead Rose.” Louisa pointed to the pattern. “See how it looks like a rose?”
Frank nodded. “It does. But why did she call it the Homestead Rose when we live in South Amana?” He lifted his gaze and looked at the boys and girls sitting across from him. A woven knitting basket rested on the floor beside each child, and lengths of yarn draped from the numerous knitting needles or crochet hooks to the colorful balls of yarn inside their baskets. “Do any of you boys or girls know the answer?” Wide-eyed, they all looked at Karla and shook their heads.
Louisa frowned. “Why did you name it after Homestead, Sister Stuke?”
“Sister Karen brought it with her when her family moved here from Homestead. They were the caretakers at the Homestead meetinghouse, and she found the mitten one day when she was cleaning.”
Several of the other children drew near to hear the story as Karla continued. “For a number of years, she tried to find the owner, but no one ever claimed it. After Sister Karen’s family moved to South, she found it in one of her trunks and showed it to me. I created the pattern from looking at the one Sister Karen found, and I named it the Homestead Rose because it was found in their meetinghouse.”
“Then I would say that is a very gut reason for the name.” Frank sat down on the bench beside her and pointed to Louisa’s mitten. “Maybe I should see if I can knit this pattern.”
The children applauded and urged him on.
“Don’t encourage him, children. If he takes up Louisa’s needles, I fear I will have to rip out all the stitches and replace them.”
“You have no confidence in me?” Frank leaned around Karla and faced Louisa. “Do you trust me with your mitten, Sister Louisa?”
The little girl’s forehead creased, and her eyebrows drooped low as she considered his question. “If Sister Stuke will fix it when you’re done. I have to be finished in time for Christmas.”
He grinned at Louisa. “That does not sound as though you have great belief in my knitting ability, but let me see what I can do.”
Frank looped the yarn around his index finger and dug the needle into the stitch. When he wrapped the yarn below the needle, Louisa jumped up and squealed. “You’re supposed to purl, not knit. On this row, the yarn goes over the top, not underneath.”
“Ja, ja, I see now. Danke, Sister Louisa.” He had been pretty good at knitting as a boy, but his large hands and years away from the craft revealed he’d lost a great deal of his ability. “I think it is beginning to come back to me now.”
Louisa sighed and shook her head. “That stitch is too loose. It must come out, right, Sister Stuke?”
Karla gave a firm nod. “She is right—it is much too loose.”
“Maybe you should teach him the way you were showing me. That way you won’t have to rip out too much.” Louisa beamed a proud look at both of them.
Frank scooted closer to Karla. “That is a gut idea, Sister Louisa. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
“I’m not sure Brother Lehner truly needs knitting lessons since he has no need to knit, Louisa. Perhaps he should give you back your mitten so that you may work on it yourself.”
Frank grinned at her. “I may want to knit someone a pair of mittens for Christmas, and unless you help me, I will not be able to complete my gift. It has been a long time since I was taught to knit in strickschule.”
For a moment, she considered arguing with him. But with the children listening, it would be best to do as he asked so he would be on his way. She gestured to the group of children. “All of you must get your yarn baskets and return to work. You already know how to knit. There is no need to stand here and watch while I help Brother Lehner.”
Still holding a knitting needle in each hand and with the partially knitted mitten dangling between the needles, he extended his arms toward her. “I’m at your command.”
He looked so silly that she couldn’t help but smile at him. “First, you need to bend your elbows. You know it is impossible to knit with your arms extended like that.”
Frank dutifully bent his elbows. “I only wanted to make certain you could reach my hands. I think it might be easier if you stood behind me.”
Karla shook her head. “We will do it the same way I helped Louisa.” She reached sideways and covered his hands. Her fingers trembled as she guided him through the first stitch. The warmth of his breath tickled her cheek as she leaned closer to check the stitch. “I cannot see when you move the mitten so far away.”
As he turned toward her, his gaze settled on her lips, and he leaned in. Her breath caught, and she pulled back. A burning quiver traveled from the pit of her stomach, spread up her neck, and radiated across her cheeks. “Not so close.”
“You said you couldn’t see, so I leaned closer.”
She cleared her throat and removed her hold on his hands. “I think we’ve had enough for today. Louisa needs to complete her Christmas gift, and I’m sure you need to return to the apothecary.”
“Perhaps you’d consider giving me another lesson this evening.”
She arched a brow. “So you intend to knit a Christmas gift, and you need help?”
“You could say that.”
Karla crossed the room and picked up one of the knitting baskets. “Then let me give this to you to take to the apothecary with you. In your spare time, you can begin practicing. Tonight I will be pleased to see what you’ve accomplished.”
Frank donned his coat and lifted the knitting basket from her hands. “You know I enjoy a challenge, Karla. Otherwise, I would never have set my sights on you, ja?”