“I have been using it some, you know.”
“I know, like splitting wood and the other chores you have figured how to do mostly with your left hand.”
“I shucked the corn using these fingers.” He wiggled the ones sticking out of his cast.
“This supper was one of the best since we came here.” Rune raised his cup in the way of one who hoped for a refill.
Signe smiled at him. “You could just ask.”
“I know. One should not waste words.”
Signe filled his cup. “You boys want coffee too? There is cream and sugar for it.”
“Really?” Leif grinned at her. “Almost like dessert.”
“Gingerbread would be good one of these days, don’t you think?” Rune said.
“Ja, it would. We have molasses even. I thought of making an äggakaka. I have extra butter and eggs I could take to the store. Once you boys start school, you can deliver that for me.”
“How many days to school?” Leif asked, then glanced at Rune. “We are going to school, right?”
“You are,” Rune said.
“And I can go out in the woods with you and Onkel Einar?” Bjorn made certain.
“Ja.”
“And I can go out and drag branches as soon as I get home,” Knute threw in.
“Ja, that too.”
Leif stared hopefully at Rune. “I could drag branches.”
“Ja, you could, but then who would milk the cow and feed the animals?”
“I could milk later.”
“And all of us could do the rest of the chores then too,” Bjorn added.
Rune looked at each of his boys. All he saw was an eagerness to help that threatened to overwhelm him. “Soon it will be too dark to work in the woods, so this will not be a problem any longer. And you can do chores by lantern light. You will soon anyway.” He nodded, carefully rubbing his eyes. “Uff da,” he muttered under his breath.
“Your eyes are bothering you?” Signe said.
“Ja, some.” He pushed back his chair. “We better get down there. Bjorn, have you tried using the grinding wheel yet?”
“Ja, I sharpened the hoe. It works better now.”
“Good. Try one of the axes tonight.”
Signe reached out. “Pass me your plates.”
Down at the machine shed, while he and Einar started filing the teeth on the saw, Rune sucked in a deep breath. Now—now was the time.
“Einar, with Signe in her condition, it is getting dangerous for her to be going up and down the ladder to our beds.” He almost mentioned building a bed but thought better of it. One thing at a time.
“So she can sleep downstairs again. She was the one who insisted on going up there.”
Rune decided to ignore that idea. “I want to build stairs. It would be safer for all of us, but especially her and the baby.”
“She can sleep in the parlor again.”
Rune exhaled and inhaled, his mind darting here, there, and everywhere to find the best way to deal with Einar. “Have you ever constructed stairs?”
“Ja, but we do not need stairs.”
“Can we get lumber down at Benson’s or do we have to go into Blackduck?”
“I said we are not building stairs.”
“I’m thinking we need to cut a vent over the kitchen stove to get heat up into the attic this winter.”
Einar waved the file in the air. “The house is fine just the way it is.”
“The house was fine for two people, but we are now seven with another on the way. Some things have to change. Benson’s or Blackduck?”
“Blackduck! And I do not want to hear any more about stairs and a hole in the ceiling.”
“I was thinking about putting the stairs in the parlor, but on that wall in the kitchen would be better. Then the entry would be in the center of the attic.”
“Are you deaf? I said no stairs.”
“Einar, I understand what you are saying, but along with working for you, I need to take care of my family. If Signe falls and gets hurt, who will take care of Gerd?”
Einar started to say something, then growled instead. His hand clenched the file so hard that his knuckles turned white, and the fury shooting from his eyes made Rune’s stomach clench. He kept right on filing. At least he had opened the subject, giving Einar something to think about.
Later, when Rune and Signe were talking in the parlor as had become their habit, Rune told her what had happened. “He was so furious I thought he was going to attack me.”
“Because you told him about the need for stairs?”
Nodding, Rune studied the calluses that had built up on his hands. His head was getting too heavy to hold up. “I do not know, Signe. I just do not know.”
“Just let him chew on it for a while.”
“I guess.” If only we lived in our own house.
Chapter
21
Leif burst through the back door. “Mor, a hawk got one of the young chickens!”
“Did the rooster try to save it?”
“No, and we were too far away.” He brushed at his eyes. “The red one.”
She knew that had been his favorite. “Oh, Leif, I am so sorry.”
“We need a guard dog. Something to protect the chickens and the pigs and everything.”
“You did the best you could.”
“Bjorn said he needs a shotgun. Blast that hawk out of the air.”
“Signe.” The call came from the bedroom.
“Be right there.”
“Bring Leif with you.”
Signe and Leif stared at each other, shrugged, and went to see Gerd, who was sitting by the window.
“I saw the hawk too. Happens every once in a while.” She pointed to the closet. “Look on the top shelf.”
Signe reached as high as she could but felt nothing. “Get me the stool,” she said to her son. When Leif set it down for her, she climbed up, hanging on to the doorframe. Clear on the back of the shelf, she felt it. She looked over her shoulder. “A gun?”
“Ja, a shotgun. The rifle Bjorn used is over the door in the kitchen where it used to be, but we keep the shotgun up there.”
Signe handed the gun to her son and stepped down, dusting her hands on her apron. “Are there shells for it?”
“Maybe not. But we can buy some. If one of your boys likes to hunt . . .”
“Bjorn does. He got the deer.”
“Then he can hunt ducks and geese when they fly over. Sometimes they land in our pond.”
Signe had never heard Gerd say this much in one day, let alone in one conversation. “Will Onkel Einar mind?”
“He doesn’t like to hunt, but he does like to eat.” She nodded at Leif. “You boys should all know how to shoot a rifle and a shotgun.” She heaved a breath. “I’m ready to go back to bed.”
“Takk! Tusen takk.” Leif took the gun out to the kitchen table while Signe helped Gerd back to bed.
Gerd nodded. Her eyelids closed, and she heaved a deep breath. Walking that far exhausted her, but she was doing better. Signe let the hope bloom in her chest.
“Today is the day!” Bjorn waved his cast at her a couple of days later.
“After chores and breakfast.” She slid a pan of corn bread into the oven.
“Two more weeks until school starts,” Knute whispered in her ear as he headed for the barn.
To Signe that meant that sometime in the coming days, there would be a violent war of words with Onkel Einar. Trepidation sent tentacles of fear from her heart to her middle. What was the best way to make him agree that the boys needed to be in school? Or probably not agree, but at least give his permission to attend. And if he did not give permission, at least not try to stop them. She and Rune were in agreement that the boys would go. Rune said to just pack the boys’ dinner pails and send them off. Not to make a secret out of it, but go ahead as though it were perfectly normal.
She heaved a sigh. What was the matter with Einar?
After breakfast, with Gerd fe
d and the men on their way to fell trees, she sat Bjorn down out on the porch and laid his cast-encased arm on the table. She brought out a hammer and the meat cleaver. Bjorn’s eyes went wide, and he gulped.
“Hold your arm very still. Very, very still.”
Carefully she placed the cleaver just so, its nose pressed against Bjorn’s arm and its blade poised on the upper rim of the cast by his elbow. She began to tap it with the hammer.
Nothing. She tapped harder. The cleaver blade bit into the plaster-and-rags cast. Slowly, a tiny bit at a time, the cleaver cut through the cast, down his arm and to the wrist. She brought the bone shears out from the kitchen and cut through the last shreds, pulling it apart.
“It stinks!” Bjorn cried. “Ach, do I stink! And look at that rash. No wonder it itched so bad.”
“We will wash it, of course, and put salve on the rash.”
“It sure is white . . . and skinny.” Bjorn held his two arms side by side. “Looks like a stick.”
“That is why you still have to be very careful. It takes time to rebuild those muscles.” She rubbed his arm, pressing to the bone, but it had no telltale bump. She watched his face, and he never flinched. “Does it hurt at all?”
“Nei.” He shook his head, clenching and releasing his fist. “I can use the axe right now.” He stood and leaped off the porch, pulled the axe free of the block, and split a spool of wood in half. He grinned at her.
“How does your arm feel?”
“Like it has been lazy for too long.” He grabbed another spool and repeated his actions, then looked around. “Looks like Leif and I better get a log up on the sawhorses and get some sawing done.”
“We need to pick the last of the beans too. So do that first. No, wait. Do that after you wash that stinky arm.”
Cackling with joy, Bjorn headed for the washbasin.
Once the boys returned to the garden, she answered Gerd’s call. “Today is a good day to walk to the window again.”
Gerd shook her head, but she didn’t grumble. “You took his cast off?”
“I did, but he is not going to the woods tomorrow. He can go out on Monday. Would you like a cup of coffee and a bit of corn bread?”
“Ja. With jam?”
Signe nodded. “You could snap beans while you sit here. The boys are picking the last of them.”
“Ja, I will.”
Signe nearly floated out to the kitchen.
When she returned with a bowl of beans, Gerd was dozing but she jerked upright when Signe set the bowl on a stool beside her, with another bowl for her lap.
“I always cut the beans.”
“Ja, just snap the ends off. I will cut them.”
Hands shaking, Gerd picked up a handful and began the job. “Have some for supper?”
“If you like.”
That night at the table, Einar studied Bjorn. “The cast is off. You will go with us in the morning.”
“I cannot wield an axe much yet.”
“It’s time you went back to work. Past time.”
Bjorn looked to Signe, who shrugged. She would remind him to be careful in the morning. She looked to Rune, who answered with a slight nod.
“He will not use an axe yet.” Rune spoke firmly but softly. Einar shot him a glare, but Rune nodded and kept on eating. “Knute is doing well with the axe lately.”
She could see Knute’s chest swell with the praise. It took so little to encourage the boys. Why could Einar not see that? But then, she should not be surprised. He never even said takk. Perhaps he did not know how? The thought made her almost smile.
After supper the boys set to sawing into stove lengths the last of the limbs and logs set aside for firewood. When it was too dark to see, they came inside.
“Can we have bread and sugar?” Leif asked.
Signe was just finishing the dishes. “One of you get the pitcher of milk from the well house, and I will heat up the coffee. We’ll have a celebration.”
“For what?”
“Bjorn is no longer wearing a cast.”
“And school is going to start,” Knute added.
“And I get to go back to the woods,” Bjorn hollered over his shoulder as he charged out the door.
Signe threw Leif the dish towel. “You finish drying these while I slice the bread. Then go ask Tante Gerd if she wants to join the party. Knute, you go tell the men. If Onkel Einar does not want to come, Far can anyway. Tell him Mor said.” Signe started slicing the bread. She would have to set the sourdough starter for the bread tomorrow, but so what?
She had the bread sliced and buttered when Knute came back in. “Far is coming. Onkel Einar just glared at me and said he had to finish.”
“So be it.” Signe set a plate on a tray with a full cup of coffee, sprinkled the sugar over the butter, and carried it to Gerd. “Here you are, Tante Gerd. A party treat.” She set the tray on Gerd’s lap and smiled at the nod she received. That was far better than a mean scowl.
When Rune came into the kitchen, they were all sitting around the table, waiting for him. “What are we celebrating?”
“My cast is gone.” Bjorn raised his arm. “And I get to go back in the woods. Finally.”
“And school starts soon,” Knute said.
“And we have not celebrated anything since we got here,” Signe finished. “It is about time. Tante Gerd has hers in her room.” And that is another thing to celebrate. But Signe didn’t say that aloud. She closed her eyes for just a moment, whispering, “Thank you, Lord.” Like her mor used to do and most likely still did. It was time someone around here was thankful.
For the next two weeks, both Bjorn and Knute worked out in the woods with the men. They were both nearly staggering by the time they sat down at the table for supper. They ate, washed up, and climbed the ladder to their beds in the attic.
“Maybe tomorrow we can fell another tree just before dusk and get in an extra two a week, maybe even three.” Einar finished his coffee and started to push back his chair.
“School starts tomorrow. Knute and Leif will be going,” Signe said.
Einar slammed his fist on the table. “I told you they’re going to work here. We agreed on that.” His angry glare could have nailed her to the wall.
“No, our agreement when we said we would come was that the boys would go to school. Bjorn has chosen not to, as he would rather work in the woods.” Rune kept his voice even and reasonable.
“Last week I told you—”
“The boys are going to school, and Knute will come help in the woods as soon as he gets home.”
Signe kept her mouth closed, but her mind kept repeating, Please, God. Please, God.
“You, you . . .” Einar stared from Rune to Signe and back. “This is my house, and you will do what I say.”
“Bjorn and I will work with you. The other two will go to school and do the regular farm chores when they get home. If they take the horse, they will get home more quickly.”
“No school!” Einar stormed out the door, the screen door slamming behind him. They heard him stomp back up the porch steps and holler, “Are you coming?”
“I will be right there.” Rune drained his coffee cup and nodded at Signe. “It will be all right.”
Signe nodded. Rune had dealt with Einar and not left it up to her, as he did so often. She knew how much he hated arguing. But this time—this time . . . Tears burned behind her eyes, but she had no time for weeping.
Getting back on her feet took an extra boost of will. She had to set the starter. They would need more bread now that she had to pack two separate dinners. She had found two lard pails in the cellar for the boys to take their dinners to school in. Her feet ached, her back ached, and all she wanted to do was go to bed. She left two starters on the warming shelf and banked the fire. She was just getting ready to go up the ladder when she heard the men on the porch. Go back to the kitchen or on up the ladder?
She chose the ladder. She could not stand to look at that man again tonight.
“Did you roust the boys?” Rune asked.
“Nei, not yet. They can sleep for a few more minutes.”
Rune held out his arms, and surprised, she walked into them. Heat was already coming from the stove. The comfort of his arms made her sigh. “Takk.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “I’m dreading these next hours.”
“Sometimes when you let Einar think on things, he changes his mind. He will not tell you so, but I’ve seen it happen.”
“He has such a temper.”
“Ja, but he works harder than anyone I know.”
“Ja.” Tell him I slipped on the ladder or no? But somehow the words bypassed her resolve. “I slipped on the bottom rung of the ladder. I have to be more careful than I thought.”
“Oh, Signe.” Rune heaved a sigh that shook them both. “One thing at a time. Get the boys off to school, and then I will bring up the stairs again. Perhaps you and I should move our pallets back down to the parlor.”
“I hate to do that.” She stepped out of his arms and reached up to pat his cheek. “You are a good man, Rune. I thank God for you.”
“I’ll go call the boys so they can get down to the barn.”
Signe fixed the coffeepot, did the same with the cornmeal for mush, then stirred more flour into the starter and kneaded the dough for the first time. Wishing she had three hands, she inhaled the fragrance of yeast rising from the dough. There was something special about kneading bread dough as the daylight was just breaking. The rooster announced the rising sun, and one of the horses whinnied.
Would he be angry if the boys rode off to school? Rune was right—they would get home more quickly if they rode.
She sliced the last loaf of bread and made sandwiches for both men and the boys. Butter and jam for the younger boys and thinly sliced smoked venison for the three woodsmen. If only she had cheese. Today she would set the older milk for cheese rather than skimming off the cream. She had enough to churn butter already. One more thing to do today.
The Promise of Dawn Page 19