Once everyone was at the table, she dished up the mush, and Einar, as always, reached for the cream pitcher first.
She glanced at Leif, who was looking from Einar to her, questions all over his face. Shrugging, she set the jam and the butter on the table, along with the biscuits she’d reheated from the night before and a bowl of scrambled eggs.
Rune nodded to her and passed the biscuits to Einar.
Einar never looked at her, never said a word until he pushed his chair back.
She watched him leave the room, her head wagging slowly.
“Can I have the rest of the eggs?” Knute asked.
“Ja, go ahead. Bjorn, take the basket with you when you go.”
He nodded and grinned at her. “I like being back in the woods. No school. Ja!”
“I will bring the water jug.” Rune patted her shoulder as he went by and leaned over to whisper, “See, I told you all would be well.” He looked at the two boys still at the table. “You boys do your best now. And hurry home.”
“Should we gallop all the way?”
“No, but an easy lope might be a good idea.”
The boys went down to get the horse ready, and Signe scrambled a couple more eggs for Gerd, who was sitting up in bed, waiting for her.
“Perhaps you could come out to the kitchen for dinner today.”
“Perhaps.”
Signe knew her face must show surprise. She returned to the kitchen and set the dishes in the dishpan on the stove. When the boys called from outside, she took their dinner pails out to them, all the while wishing she had something more to put in them.
“You two be careful, and make sure you water Rosie when you have dinner. On your way home, stop at the store and see if there is any mail.”
“Ja, we will.” Knute reined old Rosie around and started down the lane. Leif waved to her, hanging on to the pails with one hand.
Lord, keep them safe. Keep everyone safe, and thank you.
She should have had them bring the churn up from the well house. Having help around here all summer had made life a lot easier, but she was on her own now.
Carrying the churn to the porch gave her a backache. Churning, making bread—everything seemed to do that lately. She sat down on the steps and promptly burst into tears, the soul-wracking kind that wrung one out.
Chapter
22
Mor, you have a letter from Norway!”
Signe ran to the door and saw Leif sliding off the horse’s back.
“A letter from home! Oh, oh thank you, Lord.” Leif met her at the steps and handed her both the letter and their dinner pails.
“I’ll put Rosie away.”
Knute charged up the steps. “Mor, I’m so hungry. And I have to get to the woods.”
“Ja, I will slice some bread for you.” She set the dinner pails in the sink and cut two slices of fresh bread, slathered butter and jam on them, and out the door he went. “How was school?” she called after him.
“Leif can tell you.”
Signe tucked the letter in her apron pocket and sliced bread for a sandwich for Leif. After pulling the coffeepot forward to the hot spot, she checked the beans baking, stirred them, and shut the oven door. The letter crinkled in her pocket.
From Gerd’s room came “Signe, is that coffee heating?”
“Ja. You want bread with jam? The bread is still warm.”
“Oh, ja. That would be good.”
Signe strode to the doorway. “I’ll serve our bread and coffee at the table. Come, we will walk.”
Since they had walked around the bed and back and forth to the chair by the window, she knew Gerd could do this. It was the perfect time. With only a small huff, Gerd swung her feet over the edge of the bed and stood. Clinging to Signe’s arm, she made her slow, halting way to the kitchen. They paused once for Gerd to catch her breath, then shuffled the last steps and sank down on a chair at the table.
“You made it.” Signe wanted to hug her, but she settled for a pat on the shoulder. “Very good.”
Gerd looked around the kitchen, from the stove, where the canner was processing quart jars of carrots, to the sink. “The boys are home from school?”
“Ja. Leif is taking care of Rosie, and Knute ran to the woods to work out there until dark.”
“What is for supper?”
“Baked beans with smoked venison.” She poured them each a cup of coffee and handed Gerd a plate of bread spread with butter and jam. Sinking into a chair, she tried to catch back a groan but missed. She had sat down for dinner, hadn’t she? Or had she eaten dinner? She could not remember for sure.
She smiled. “There is nothing like fresh baked bread.”
“Ja, very good.”
“I’m glad you’re strong enough to come to the kitchen.”
“Ja.”
To Signe, this felt like more than a simple thing. She had been afraid Gerd would be bedridden for the rest of her life, but she was getting stronger. Even if they moved forward only a little at a time, they were making progress.
“When is the baby due?” Gerd asked.
“Late November.”
“Did you hem the diapers?”
“I figured I could do that when the garden is in.”
“So, no diapers yet.”
Signe heaved herself to her feet to fetch the coffeepot. She did not remember getting clumsy this soon before. After all, the baby was not due for two months.
“Nei. Not yet.” The silence stretched while they sipped their coffee. “Did you ever make cheese?”
Gerd shook her head. “You?”
“Back home I did. Soft cheese.”
“I have not had cheese like that since we came to Amerika.”
“Did you buy cheese at Benson’s?”
“Einar does not like Benson’s.”
“Oh.” Questions that she dared not ask welled up. Why?
“More coffee?” Gerd raised her cup.
After helping Gerd back to bed, Signe took the canner off the stove and set the jars on the counter. They could eat carrots saved in sand in the cellar for several months, but canning would feed them for the rest of the year. Dusk was already creeping among the trees, so she mixed up corn bread, then added wood to the fire and set the kettle of beans on the cooler end of the stove.
Leif pulled open the screen door, a jug in one hand and a basket of eggs in the other. “I strained the milk, but there are no pans free to pour it into.”
“Uff da. I was going to skim the cream.”
“The churn is full too.”
“And churn today. Bring the churn up to the porch, and we will churn it there.” She brushed her hair back and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “I will churn, you go skim the cream.”
“I need a lantern in the well house.”
“Use the barn one.”
With the corn bread in the oven and the table set, she sat down at the churn and let the evening breeze cool her face and neck. The rhythmic thunk and swish of the churn danced with the peeper frogs and the evening insects. A thrush sang farewell to the dying sun. The nip of autumn floated in on the breeze. Knowing Einar, it would be full dark before he gave up in the woods.
By the time her arms were too tired to raise the handle again, she finally heard the change in tone that signaled the cream had given up and turned into butter. She gave it a few more plunges and rested her forehead on top of the churn dash. She blew out a breath and felt her shoulders and upper back relax. Her eyes closed in spite of herself.
“I’m done, Mor.”
Signe jumped at the sound of Leif’s voice. She caught her breath and blinked several times to clear her head.
“Were you sleeping?”
“I—I guess I was.” She patted her chest to help settle her heart back to normal. “So all the chores are done?”
“Everyone is fed, and the chickens are back in their house. The cow is out in the pasture, the milk strained and put in the pans. I rinsed them out.”
<
br /> “Good for you.” She heaved herself to her feet. “Get me a bucket to pour the whey into, and I will get the butter washed.” How could she possibly have fallen asleep leaning on the butter churn?
She had already dished a plate for Gerd when she heard the tramp of boots on the steps. She told Gerd, “I’ll come back for your tray. Tomorrow night, perhaps you will come to the kitchen for supper.”
As always, Einar refused to look at her, even when she greeted him. Rune rolled his eyes, but rather than saying anything, herded the boys to the sink to wash. Einar sat down in his chair without stopping at the sink.
“How did it go?” she asked Knute.
He shrugged and took his chair next to Bjorn, who was rubbing his arm.
She wanted to ask if he had used the axe too much, but instead she dug the ladle into the pot of beans and venison and passed full plates around the table. Corn bread squares and a bowl of cooked carrots filled out the meal.
“Can I get you anything else?” She picked up the pitcher and passed the buttermilk around to fill the glasses, then poured the coffee. By the time she sat down, Einar pushed back his chair and headed for the door.
As soon as the screen door closed behind him, it was like everyone could breathe again.
“So how did you do out there?” she asked Bjorn.
“Pretty sore.”
“Did he use the axe all day?” she asked Rune.
He shook his head. “But probably more than he should have. Knute dragged a lot of branches when he got there too.” He passed his plate over for more beans. “We’re doing the best we can, and that is all we can do.” He looked at Knute and Leif. “Do you have any lessons you have to do?”
They both shook their heads. “The teacher said we have to take some tests since this is our first year in an American school.”
“Did he say what subjects?” Rune asked, dipping his corn bread in the bean juices on his plate.
“Arithmetic and spelling. But we do not know many English words.”
“And reading and American history. We can read fine in Norwegian, so he’s finding someone to teach us English for a couple hours each day.”
“He does not speak Norwegian?”
“Ja, some, but not real good.”
“When he talks fast, I can’t understand him.” Leif wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Are you the only ones who need help speaking English?”
“I don’t think so, but the other teacher teaches the little kids.”
Rune pushed back his chair. “I better get to the machine shed.” He looked back at his sons. “Are the chores finished, Leif?” Leif nodded. “You boys get on up to bed. Bjorn, how is your arm?”
“Sore.”
“How bad?”
Bjorn shrugged.
“Sore when you move it or pounding pain?”
“Hurts but not pounding, like in the beginning.”
“I will rub it,” Signe said. “There’s liniment under the sink.”
“You will not use that axe tomorrow, no matter what Einar says.” Rune stared at his son until Bjorn nodded, then he patted Signe’s shoulder as he went out the door.
“Do we have to go to bed now?” Leif asked.
“Clear the table and start the dishes.” She wagged her head when he rolled his eyes, making Knute send his little brother a knowing big-brother look. Signe nodded to Bjorn. “You come sit here.” She pointed at her chair. After fetching the liniment from the cupboard, she poured some in her palm and rubbed it into his arm, lightly at first, then deepening as she worked the muscles. When he flinched, she softened her touch.
“Please get Tante Gerd’s tray from her bedroom too,” she told Leif.
A wave of weariness nearly swamped her. She blew out a breath and forced herself to keep working on Bjorn’s arm. “How long did you use the axe?” When he shrugged, she pressed, “All morning?” He shook his head. “At all in the morning?” Another half shrug. “Look, tell me what you did.”
“If I do, you’ll get mad at me.”
“I’m already getting angry at you for not facing up to the questions.”
“I dragged branches until they felled the next tree. Then Onkel Einar said to start where I used to, and Mor, I did not want him to be angry at me too.”
“What do you mean, me too? Who else is he angry at?”
“Well, he is really mad at you and sometimes at Far and . . .” His voice slid into a whisper.
Why did Rune not stop him? “Look at me.”
He was not in any hurry to meet her stern gaze.
“We—your far and I—agreed to let you work in the woods again, but you knew what the restrictions were.” Onkel Einar did too, but nothing she said mattered to him.
Bjorn nodded while she debated. Let him go back out, or make him stay home? “Are there enough branches to pull to keep you working all day?”
“Ja, because I cannot haul as many at a time as before.”
“Or throw them as high on the stacks?”
He nodded again.
“What if you made several smaller piles, closer to where the trees fall?”
“I do what he tells me.”
She heaved a sigh. “Ja, I know. But I cannot let you reinjure your arm.” She thought a moment. “You will pull branches tomorrow until Knute comes to do that, and then you may use the axe until dark. And if your arm hurts too much, you will not use it.” She stared into his eyes. “You understand me?”
“Ja, but . . .”
“Your far and I will deal with Onkel Einar.” She waited. “Do you hear me? Bjorn?”
“Ja. I hear you.”
She watched him rub his arm. I know I’m right. That man will not destroy my son.
When Rune and Einar came in, she had the coffee hot and cinnamon cake just out of the oven.
Rune smiled at her. “Smells good in here.”
“I thought you might like something to go to sleep on.”
Einar sat down at the table, still without looking at her. Even when she set a cup and a plate of cake in front of him. He picked up his fork and ate it in four bites. Downed the coffee, pushed his chair back, and headed for the bedroom.
Rune and Signe stared at each other. Signe started to fume but instead clapped her hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from breaking out. Rune shook his head, his eyes laughing even if his mouth didn’t.
“Would you like some cream in your coffee?” she asked.
“Nei. Sit down, and we will eat together. Knute said he brought a letter from home.”
“Oh my goodness. I forgot all about it.” She drew the bent envelope from her apron pocket and slit it open. “From Mor.” She looked at him. “How come we have not had a letter from your family?”
“Guess they do not write letters much.”
Shaking her head, she started to read.
“Dear Signe and family,
“We are still missing you so. Tante Elvira said that would go away, but I think, for a change, my big sister is wrong. I still find myself looking for you to come in the door.
“I am sure the boys are growing like the beans up the poles in the garden this summer. I know you have been working so hard to lay all the food by that you can. To think that Bjorn brought down a buck even with his arm in a cast is rather amazing. He was getting to be quite a shot, and this proves it. It might behoove you to let him go hunting more often. When will the cast come off his arm?
“Rune’s sister Nilda is saving every penny for her ticket to go to Amerika. If I had extra money to give her, I would help, but you know how scarce money is here. But at least we have a house to live in and food enough on the table.
“I have been knitting sweaters for the boys and will send them to you as soon as they are finished. They must be in school now. How hard that would be if one did not speak the language! I think that is why so many adults do not go to school there. What are you doing to learn to speak English?
“I have included th
e recipes that you requested. Greet Gerd and Einar from all of us. Please write soon, as I check daily for your letters.
“Love from
“Your Mor”
“She does not mention the others.”
“I know. Strange. I told Bjorn that you and I would keep Einar from making him overuse that arm. He does not want Einar angry at him.”
Rune nodded. “I will stand by that. Einar and I had a talk down at the shed. He just wants as many trees ready to skid to the train this winter as he can.”
“I know that, but he will not abuse my boys to get his way with the trees. We have to agree on this, or . . .”
The or what she was not sure of.
Chapter
23
Bjorn will not be using the axe today until late afternoon.”
Einar stared at Rune, his brow tightening as his glare deepened.
Rune waited, without moving and with no change of expression.
Einar started to say something, then spun and resumed harnessing the team.
“I will get our dinner basket.” Rune turned and strode back to the house, bidding his heart to settle down as he sucked in several deep breaths. Takk, Lord God, we got through that one.
Bjorn and Signe met him on the porch. She handed him the water jug, and Bjorn carried the basket of food. While her eyes sparked with questions, he just nodded. He could feel her gaze on his back all the way to the wagon, where he turned and waved to her. He wanted to tell her not to worry, but not with Bjorn right beside him.
When they drove into the cleared area, Einar and Rune unloaded their saws and axes, and Bjorn took care of the horses, unhitching them, taking their bridles off, and tying them to a tree, where they rested in the shade. He patted both the horses and talked to them, then hustled over to the men.
“Start a new pile over there.” Einar pointed at a spot much closer than usual.
“Yes, sir.” Bjorn grabbed a couple branches small enough to drag and started out.
The Promise of Dawn Page 20