Free Love Finds You in Amana Iowa by Melanie Dobson

encouraged Christians on their journey instead of distracted them from it.
    She carefully picked a book off the shelf and then replaced it seconds later without even opening the cover. There were too many books to look at. She didn’t know where to start.
    Her gaze rolled over the titles, resting on a bright blue cover. She reached for it and stared at the silver foil on the front, a man and several children playing near a log home of sorts. She smoothed her fingers over the cloth binding, reading the author’s name. A woman wrote the book. A woman named Harriet Beecher Stowe.
    She turned and looked back toward the counter, holding the cover up so the man could see it. “What is this book about?”
    He glanced up from the ledger in his hands and set his glasses on top of it. “You’ve never heard of Uncle Tom’s Cabin?”
    “No.”
    He shook his head. “Some people call it the book that began this darn war.”
    She turned it over in her hands. How could a book possibly begin a war?
    “Is your husband fighting for us?” he asked
    She shook her head. “I’m an Inspirationist.”
    One of his eyebrows slid up. “A what?”
    “Our community believes that the United States should pray for peace instead of fight for it.”
    “Oh—”
    She held up Uncle Tom’s Cabin. She didn’t want to talk about her community’s views of peace or the fact that she didn’t have a husband. “Is it a book about a Christian?”
    He tapped on his ledger for a moment, thinking. “It’s more of a book about Christ.”
    About Christ? Then maybe it would be a story she’d enjoy.
    “You should read it,” he continued.
    She looked down at the cover again, the silver gleaming in the light. “I would like to.”
    “I’ll sell it to you for two dollars,” he said.
    “Oh, no.” She quickly placed the book back on the shelf and backed away from it. She hadn’t meant to give him reason to think she would purchase it.
    He paused for a minute. “I suppose I could go down to a dollar seventy-five. You won’t be able to find it any cheaper than that.”
    She stepped back, toward the door. “I can’t buy it.”
    She could feel him critiquing her dress, her hair pinned neatly behind her head.
    “Why not?” he asked.
    “I—I don’t have any money.”
    He paused for an instant, like he wasn’t sure if he believed her. “You don’t have any money?”
    Amalie tapped her tongue against her teeth, trying to find a way to explain to him the way they lived, in words he could understand. “I live in a colony,” she said. “We don’t need any money because everything is provided for us.”
    His eyebrow shot up again. “Everything except books.”
    “We have books,” she said, wanting him to understand. “Just not novels.”
    He closed his ledger on the counter and sighed. “Well, you have to read this book.”
    She backed toward the door. What would she say to the others if she brought a novel to Amana with her? A novel that started a war. “I should probably be going.”
    The man scooted around the counter and marched toward the shelves. He plucked the blue book from the mass of browns and reds and held it out to her. “It’s a story that will change your life.”
    “I don’t want my life to be changed.”
    “Aah,” he said as he pulled the book back. “You are satisfied with your life.”
    “I am.”
    “Smug?”
    “Oh, no,” she stopped him. “Nothing like that. I’m just content.”
    “And is the world content around you?”
    She thought back to General Morgan and the smirk on his face as he told her what he was doing to the people in the North. There was a reason the Inspirationists chose not to live in the world. It was partly to stay away from people who chose to pursue worldly passions and desires more than their journey with Christ.
    Even when General Morgan succeeded in burning the bridge in Lisbon, he longed for more destruction. Lust is what the Bible would call it. Without God, there was no contentment