A Simple Change (23 page)

The ice had begun to melt and rivulets of cold water were dripping down my ankle—a near match for the icy fear that now gripped my heart. How I wished there was some way to know exactly what Thomas would tell Brother William, but I'd have to hope he'd do the same as I: tell the truth but keep the explanation to a minimum.

“It's all very simple, Brother William. I was hanging clothes and didn't hear Mr. Kingman approach. He startled me, and I think
my ankle twisted when I turned around too quickly.” I looked toward the clotheslines. “There may have been a slight dip in the grass that caused me to lose my balance and fall. I'm not certain. It happened so fast.”

His arms remained folded across his chest. He nodded and tapped the fingers of his right hand against his left upper arm. “Go on. What happened next?”

I swallowed hard. “I, well, I fell down and Tho—Mr. Kingman, stooped down to see if I'd been injured. That's when you appeared.”

“Ja, I see. So you will tell me please why Mr. Kingman was coming into the backyard to speak with you.”

A hot breeze sailed around me, and I wondered if I might faint. No, I wouldn't faint. That would be too easy. Instead, I'd remain fully conscious and attempt to answer Brother William's questions in a suitable fashion—suitable enough that he would find me faultless. He arched his brows as if he'd tired of waiting for my response.

“I'm not positive why Mr. Kingman came to the backyard. He didn't have an opportunity to say anything before I fell down. As you know, I haven't spoken to him since then, so I think he could best answer that question.”

“You should put fresh ice in the towel.” He pointed to the bucket of melting ice and sighed. “I know it is difficult to learn our ways, Sister Jancey, but I am sure you have been told that meeting alone with any man, particularly an outsider, is not acceptable, ja?”

“Yes, Brother William, I have been told about that rule.” After wringing out the towel, I retrieved several chunks of ice from the bucket and wrapped them in the cloth. “On a few occasions, the men return to pick up something they have forgotten or to inquire about their laundry and I must speak to them, but—”

He nodded. “Ja, and that is expected. You should not be rude to anyone and should always speak with kindness to those who are in our village, but you should not visit with the outsiders. They are lonely and could easily misinterpret your goodwill as an invitation to . . .” When he looked up, his cheeks had turned the shade of a ripe apple. “To become close friends, and that is not acceptable. Do you understand?”

My ankle throbbed and my head pounded as I nodded and mumbled my understanding.

He unfolded his arms and pushed away from the tree. “Sister Margaret should return soon. If you are unable to return to your work, you may go home and rest your ankle. I will leave that for you to decide.” He stood a short distance from the chair and looked down at me. “Our life in the colonies is not for everyone, Sister Jancey.”

His words stung. I thought I'd made great strides in applying the rules to my life, but it sounded as though Brother William did not agree. He was preparing to leave, but I couldn't let him go without asking the question that had been plaguing me ever since he'd seen me with Thomas.

“Do you plan to bring this before the other elders, or have I sufficiently answered your questions, Brother William?”

He looked down and the brim of his straw hat hid his eyes from my view. “I think it depends upon what Mr. Kingman tells me, Sister Jancey. If he has much the same story, then there is no need to speak to the elders.” He raised his head and the stern look had returned to his eyes. “So long as you truly understand that you should refrain from being alone with the outsiders.”

I wanted to mention Nathan and the fact that he was a family friend who visited our home from time to time, but I didn't think
Brother William would want to hear anything further from me at the moment—especially where it pertained to the outsiders.

“I will do my very best to follow all of the rules, Brother William, and thank you for bringing the ice to me.”

“You are welcome. I will speak to Mr. Kingman, and if you are still at work this afternoon, I'll give you my final decision on this matter.”

I mumbled my thanks. Now I was dependent upon what Thomas would tell Brother William. If he mentioned the letters I'd written for him and the notes we'd exchanged, Brother William would go to the elders before the sun had a chance to set in the western sky.

My hands shook as I wrung water from the dripping cloth. Surely Thomas would answer in a way that would avoid getting either of us in trouble. Still, I worried, for I didn't know if he'd discovered that the newspaper article was missing. What had he wanted?

Chapter 23

When Sister Margaret returned from lunch and found me sitting on a chair in the backyard, she immediately bombarded me with a litany of questions. I'd barely finished her inquisition when Brother William reappeared. Thankfully, he sent her back to the washhouse so he could speak to me in private.

His angular face didn't reveal what news he'd brought, but I continued to hold out hope that Thomas had been prudent with his answers. If not, he'd likely be headed out on the next train and I . . . well, I had no idea what might happen to me. That was the greatest fear of all. At the moment, the last thing my parents needed was another problem heaped upon them. Though I realized they would be supportive no matter the circumstances, I didn't want to be the cause of more distress in their lives.

“I took time to speak to Brother Rudolf before returning. He
sent this roll of bandage and said you should wind it around your foot and up around your ankle to give support. If it doesn't feel better by tomorrow, you are to go to see him at his office.”

I took the roll from Brother William and thanked him. If Brother Rudolf mentioned the sprained ankle to my mother when he called on her today, she would worry until I returned home.

“He won't say anything to my mother, will he? I wouldn't want her to worry.”

Brother William ran his fingers along his jawline. “We did not discuss your Mutter, but since he is a physician, I am sure Brother Rudolf would not say anything that might cause her concern.”

The look in his eyes indicated I should have known better than to ask such a foolish question. Our conversation wasn't off to a good beginning, so I could only hope it would soon improve. When Brother William didn't forge ahead and reveal the details of his conversation with Thomas, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

“I trust you've spoken to Mr. Kingman and he disclosed much the same thing as I told you earlier.”

“Not quite.”

I jerked my shoulders upright and leaned against the back of the chair with my spine as rigid as a broom handle. “What do you mean? In what way did our stories differ?”

Brother William once again assumed his position beneath the tree. “He said that you had been waving your arms, and he thought you were signaling to him.” His eyebrows scrunched together and his forehead wrinkled into deep creases. “Did you wave to Mr. Kingman, Sister Jancey?”

I forced myself to remain calm, but anger boiled inside me like a kettle of bubbling water. “No, I did not. I don't know why he
would say such a thing. I did shake out the shirts before I hung them on the line. Is that what he may have considered waving?”

Brother William hiked his shoulders in a dismissive shrug. “Perhaps, though he didn't mention the laundry—only that you waved your arms overhead and he thought you were in distress. He said he feared you had seen a snake or faced some other danger and needed help.” He exhaled an exaggerated breath. “So this is not true?”

“I didn't signal him—at least not intentionally.” My mind whirred like a child's spinning top. Thomas had protected himself with that story, but he hadn't done much to help me. “The only time I raised my arms was to hang the laundry.”

“So you were in no danger?”

“Not until he frightened me and I fell and twisted my ankle. That's the only danger I encountered today.”

“Well, I am thinking you will recover from your mishap, Sister Jancey.” The hint of a smile played on the older man's lips. “I am pleased it was only a fall to the ground you suffered and not a fall from grace.”

His final remark gave me hope. “So you will not report this to the elders?”

“I think not. I do not believe you were at fault in this matter. Also, I cannot say that I believe everything Mr. Kingman has told me. Whether he truly thought you signaled him or whether he hoped to befriend you remains a mystery to me. Unless I learn something to change my mind, I will not speak to the elders and Mr. Kingman will remain at his position in the mill.” He stepped away from the tree. “I have warned him that he should not come around you, Sister Margaret, or any of the other sisters unless others are present. I explained this is for
his protection as well as for the protection of the sisters. And now, I must return to work.”

“If you have another moment, there was one other matter I wanted to mention to you, Brother William.”

His shoulders slumped. “What is it, Sister Jancey?”

A persistent fly buzzed near his face until he swatted it away. For a moment, I wondered if he'd like to swat me away, as well.

“Earlier you mentioned I should not have contact with outsiders, so I wanted to remind you that Nathan Woodward is one of the outsiders working at the mill, and he is a friend of my family. He sometimes comes to our house to visit.”

“Ja, your father has told me he is a family friend, and for him to visit with you is not against the rules. But you should avoid being alone with him when possible—the same as you would behave with any other man in the colonies. You should remember the rules of true godliness.” He arched his brows. “You have learned them?”

“I haven't memorized them completely, Brother William.”

“Ja, well, you should do so. Rule number three tells how we are to conduct ourselves with outsiders. You have read it?”

I nodded. “Yes, it says we should always conduct ourselves in such a manner so that outsiders have no reason to slander or shame the name of God.”

“Ja, and what else?”

“That it is better to avoid the company of outsiders who might destroy our interest in the Lord.”

“You see? You do know most of it.” He patted his palm against his chest. “Now you must place it in your heart as well as your mind. Sometimes the head tells us one thing and the heart another. When both the heart and the mind are in agreement, it is a gut thing.” He straightened his shoulders and prepared to depart.
“You should pray for God to direct your path, Sister Jancey. If you ask, He will show you in which world you belong, but you cannot have one foot in Amana and the other foot in the world.”

I didn't tell him I'd been doing exactly what he'd suggested. Unfortunately, God's answers still didn't arrive with the speed I desired.

The ice and bandage had done their job, and by the time I'd finished my work for the day, I could walk with only a slight limp. I hadn't gone far when I heard the clatter of running footsteps and turned.

Brother William's recent warning rang in my ears as Nathan ran toward me. He was panting for breath when he reached my side. “Didn't you hear me call you?”

“No, but I've told you over and over that you shouldn't shout my name and come running after me like this. It isn't proper, and I don't want to get into any more trouble.”

He tipped his head to the side. “More trouble? What'd you get in trouble for?” He grinned and tapped his finger on his chest. “I thought I was the only one who got in trouble around here.”

I wanted to snatch back the words, but it was too late. “There was a misunderstanding while I was hanging clothes, but it's been resolved.”

“What'd you do, hang the sheets the wrong way?” He chuckled. “I bet there's even a rule about how to hang the clothes, isn't there?”

I decided to give him only a meager answer and hope it would suffice. “Most women have a certain way they prefer to hang clothes.”

“And I'm guessing Sister Margaret has been hanging clothes
for enough years that she can spot a crooked clothespin from a mile away.”

I smiled and let him believe he was right, although I felt like a traitor for not defending Margaret. We'd gone only a short distance when he stopped and looked at my foot.

“Are you limping? What happened?”

His eyes shone with concern, and I didn't miss the alarm in his voice. He'd never shown much sympathy during my mother's illness, so I was taken aback that a slight limp would elicit such compassion. I never knew which Nathan would appear—the one who wanted to make me happy or the one who wanted to control me—the one who was considerate or the one who was insensitive. Since his arrival, he'd been as changeable as a chameleon, but I liked some of these recent changes and hoped they would continue.

“I twisted my ankle while I was hanging clothes. It's much better. By tomorrow, I'll be as good as new.”

“Or it will be so swollen you won't be able to walk at all.” He frowned. “I know you don't want to hear me say this again, Jancey, but this is no life for you. I want to give you the kind of life you deserve. A life where someone else takes care of household chores and you can do charity work at the orphanage or spend your afternoons enjoying tea with lady friends.” He pointed to my sunbonnet. “Even wearing that hat doesn't completely protect you. Your complexion is already showing signs of too much sun. Can't you see this isn't where we belong?”

He'd been so kind and gentle, I didn't want to tell him there was no “we.” Instead, I simply said he should feel no obligation to remain there. “I have prayed and asked the Lord to direct my future, and though I know what you want, I'm not sure where
He is leading me. I'm sorry, but I can't give you the answer you desire.”

When he said he understood, I believed him—almost.

After going to bed, thoughts of Ritt, Nathan, and Thomas jumped around in my mind like a group of children playing hopscotch. All three of them had snatched a piece of my heart, but each in a different way.

Ritt's caring and kind heart, his truthful nature, and his dedication to the Lord made me want to consider a future in Amana. How could I find fault with a man who prayed for my mother and offered quiet strength to my life? Yet I'd been disappointed when he'd revealed his feelings for me but then pulled away. I admired the fact that he'd been forthright and told me he would not leave the colonies. And I knew he was right: If I remained here, it should be through God's leading, not due to the influence of others. In my heart, I had hoped he would woo me and tell me he couldn't bear to have me leave Amana, but he knew my commitment must first be to God. He was truly an upright man. A man who would make any woman a fine husband.