Love Finds You in Amana Iowa by Melanie Dobson Page A

She’d waded across a river, cooked and slept in the wild. She’d been dirty and tired and blistered from the sun and her shoes, but it had all been worth it to see her future husband before the other Inspirationists came in the fall. Instead of waiting to greet her, though, or to even say good-bye, the man she planned to marry was gone.
    She tried to keep her chin held high, pretending that she was a queen again instead of a woman jilted by the man she loved.
    “Where is my kitchen?” she asked.
    Matthias stepped back, his hands in the air. “Your kitchen?”
    “Yes, my kitchen,” she snapped. “I—I want to start unloading my things.”
    Matthias’s mouth dropped. “You’re unbelievable, Amalie.”
    Didn’t he understand? If she stayed here, out on the street, she would crumble and then he would have to pick up all the pieces.
    But he continued to stare at her like she was Judas Iscariot. A betrayer. He didn’t understand, and right now she didn’t care what he thought, what any of them thought. She had to get busy in her new kitchen, or she would collapse.
    Later, when she was alone, she would think about the repercussions of Friedrich leaving, but this morning she would fall back on the best cure for any ailment of the heart or the head. Or at least the best distraction. Hard work in the kitchen house would distract anyone from their pain.
    She asked Matthias again about her kitchen. When he refused to answer, she picked up her skirts and brushed by him. If he wouldn’t assist her, she would find someone else who would.
    From the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Faust approach them. She didn’t want to talk to the man nor did she want to tell him that Friedrich was gone.
    With a quick swivel on her heels, she marched back toward the main street. Matthias could say what he wanted to Mr. Faust. She needed to start unloading her supplies into her new kitchen house. She had planned to wait a day or two before she began cooking again, but there was no reason to wait now. Her responsibility was to cook for the people in Amana, and she would start right away.

Sorrow and doubt leave me fearful and shaken;
Oh, who will help me when nobody can?
Christian Metz
Chapter Nine

    Matthias kicked the rock in front of him and watched it fly down the road. As the stone rolled away from him, it pushed away everything that was in its path. Just like Amalie Helene Wiese.
    He kicked another rock, venting his own anger under his breath. The woman didn’t look back as she fled around the meetinghouse, running away from her problems. Like ignoring her anger or sadness would make it better.
    For a moment there, he thought Amalie might actually grieve Friedrich’s decision like the rest of them. Or at least express her anger. But if she cared for Friedrich, the feeling was buried so deep within herself that she might never be able to express it. All she cared about was her kitchen. Her stupid, sterile kitchen where the only pain she might feel was a flesh wound from the cut of a knife or burn from the stove. Nothing that would wound her heart or soul.
    He’d hoped for Friedrich’s sake that Amalie had grown above the self-centeredness that plagued her most of her life. But apparently her coldness was going to be a permanent trait, just like her father. And her mother.
    Congratulations, Amalie. If she couldn’t have Friedrich, at least she would have her kitchen.
    He kicked one last stone and watched it roll far away from him.
    Maybe it was good that Friedrich had gone off to war before he married Amalie. When he returned, he would discover what she was really like, and he would change his mind. Maybe he would marry Sophia Paul or another woman instead.
    Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Matthias stepped away from the tree and saw the wagon master at the end of the street, watching him.
    Matthias’s shoulders stiffened as he eyed the man.
    What if Friedrich had been waiting for Amalie in the village? He would have been