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

rushed after him with a broom, he disappeared.
    “How did this happen, Berta?” Thick fingers surrounded my upper arm, and I turned to face Sister Muhlbach.
    My lips moved, but my mouth felt as though it had been filled with cotton batting. The dog peeked out from alongside the wood shed, and I considered breaking loose of the woman’s grasp. It would be far safer to hide with the dog than face her wrath. “I’m n-n-not sure,” I gasped.
    “Why were the crocks sitting out here on the porch? And whose dog is that? The only dogs permitted in the village belong to the shepherds. That dog isn’t one of ours.”
    Her words sounded more like an accusation than a question. Did she think I’d enticed the dog into the yard? Couldn’t she see my fear and concern? “I’ve never seen it before. I don’t know where it came from,” I croaked.
    The answer didn’t satisfy. She pointed at the mess. Only one crock remained safe on the porch. “Why were the crocks sitting out here?” Deep lines creased her forehead, and anger flashed in her dark eyes.
    My mind whirled. What to do? I looked into Sister Muhlbach’s dark eyes. “Things were busy with so many women in the kitchen, and I decided to bring the remaining crocks to the porch before I carried them inside. I thought it would cause less confusion.” Her eyebrows dipped low. She was doing her best to make sense of my explanation—at least that’s what I hoped. I relaxed when I saw a faint glint of understanding in her eyes.
    “We will make do. But the next time I give you a job, don’t try to improve on my instructions. Do as I tell you.” She signaled for Johanna and one of the other sisters to gather the two remaining crocks. “Once you’ve cleaned up this mess, come inside.”
    I’d set to work picking up pieces of shell and shards of crockery from the slimy mess when I glanced up to see the black-andwhite dog inching toward me. I raised my arm to wave the dog forward when fingers circled my wrist in a tight hold. “Don’t do that, Berta.”
    “Rudolf! What are you doing here?”
    “Delivering milk. What else?” He stomped his foot, and the dog backed up several paces. “Don’t let that dog eat the eggs, Berta. If he gets a taste for eggs, he’ll be trying to raid the chicken coops, and you’ll be blamed.” He stooped down beside me. “What happened?”
    I explained the mishap while I pushed the slippery glob onto a piece of the broken crock. “Sister Muhlbach blames me, but it’s the dog that’s at fault.”
    Rudolf lifted his cap and scratched his head. “If you’d followed her orders—”
    “Shh.” I held my finger to my lips. “I didn’t tell her about carrying two crocks at a time. That’s just between us. She’d never let me back inside to dye eggs if she knew the full truth.”
    “Either way, you were wrong. The lying just makes it worse, but I’ll keep your secret.” He leaned across and scraped the remaining mess into another shard. After dumping the mess into the trash barrel, he wiped off the knees of his pants. “Just pump a little water and scrub with a broom. Soon it will be clean as a whistle.”
    I pointed toward the woodshed. “And get rid of that dog before he causes even more trouble.”
    While I scrubbed away any evidence of the broken eggs, Rudolf shouldered the cans of milk and carried them to the basement. The dog remained at a distance, watching my every move until Rudolf reappeared. “I’ll put the dog on my wagon and turn him out when I get over to East. Maybe one of the shepherds can turn him into a sheep dog.”
    “Oh, thank you, Rudolf. I’m grateful.” If all those women hadn’t been in the kitchen, I would have kissed him. “You are a true friend.”
    With an exaggerated flourish, he doffed his cap and bent at the waist. “I’m always pleased to help you, Berta.”

    “How long will the meeting last on Easter morning?”
    Johanna grinned as we walked toward the kitchen on Saturday morning.