Judith Miller - [Daughters of Amana 01] by Somewhere to Belong

had been correct. Yet the members of the community believed a single life superior to marriage. If that was their belief, why would Brother Ilg seek a husband for his daughter?
    “Did Johanna’s father seem pleased with this new arrangement?”
    “Who can say? But he is a member of the Bruderrat. If he didn’t like the plan, he could have asked the other elders to assign Carl to another house.”
    “I wonder what Johanna will think.”
    The milk wagon blocked the sun and cast a shadow across Rudolf ’s face. “Why would Johanna care where Carl lives?”
    Men! They didn’t understand anything at all. If Rudolf hadn’t figured it out, I wasn’t going to take time to explain. “I’d better go back inside before Sister Muhlbach comes looking for me. I can hardly wait to tell Johanna.”
    Rudolf grasped my arm. “No! You cannot tell her.”
    I wheeled around. “Why not?”
    “It is not your information to share. Brother Ilg told me , not you. He will tell Johanna, just as he told me, when he believes she should know.” He stepped closer. “Promise you won’t betray my trust, Berta.”
    I hiked up on tiptoe and brushed his cheek with a parting kiss. “Oh, all right. I promise.”

    Rudolf had been mistaken.
    Carl Froehlich didn’t move into Oma Reich’s rooms the following week. He moved in the following day. I was delighted. Not because he’d moved in, but because I didn’t think I possessed the willpower to keep my promise to Rudolf. Although I’d not yet discovered my best qualities, I did know many of my failings. And keeping secrets was one of them.
    The day was warm and the air cooled a modicum as we neared the millrace that powered the woolen and flour mills for the village. Probably just my imagination, but the mere sight of water cooled me on even the hottest of days. Johanna and I were on our return from delivering the midafternoon repast to the garden workers, a task Sister Muhlbach had yet to reassign. I was thankful, but I knew Johanna disliked the twice-daily trips.
    A budding lilac branch stretched into the path, and I lifted it to my nose. “What do you think of him?”
    Johanna arched her eyebrows. “Who?”
    “Carl, of course.”
    “I don’t think about him at all. Why should I?”
    “Because he’s a good age for you. He’s tall and very good-looking. Your father appears to like him, or he wouldn’t have agreed to have him come to work in the barns with him. He’d make a perfect husband.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing.”
    She lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I haven’t had any such thoughts. I know it’s difficult for you to believe, but marriage is not what most young women in Amana think about.”
    I skipped ahead, then twirled around and faced Johanna as we walked across the bridge that spanned the millrace near the woolen mill. “What else is there to think about? We can’t go shopping or discuss the latest fashions.”
    “You could think about ways you can serve God. You could think about ways to help others. You could think about ways to better accomplish your work. You could memorize Bible passages—a good way to avoid dwelling upon marriage or young men.”
    The beautiful spring day begged human appreciation, but I’d been a complete failure at convincing Johanna to slow her pace and enjoy the day. “When I lived in Chicago, I would spend entire days doing nothing but wandering the aisles of the stores along State Street. Mother and I would discover the latest arrivals from Paris or London. We’d compare the quality of fabric and lace or inspect the latest hats and gloves, and then we’d move on to the next store.”
    “Did you see any of our Amana fabrics in the stores where you shopped?” She tipped her head and met my gaze. There was a moment of hesitation. “My brother, Wilhelm, was a salesman of our woolens and calicos before he left Amana. He would go to the cities, both large and