The Promise of Dawn

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Onkel Einar!” Leif stared at him in shock.

  Signe felt horrible; not because Einar was yelling at her, but because her youngest son had just seen his uncle for what he was. She had not thought ahead far enough to realize what might happen.

  But the next morning it was as if there had never been any friction at all. Einar ate breakfast and stomped out the door as he always did.

  “Try not to worry,” Rune said. “We will take the days as they come.” Rune and Bjorn took the basket and jugs and headed for the wagon. But Signe could not stop worrying, and the boys were so somber and quiet that she knew they could not stop worrying either.

  Several days passed. Dark was coming more quickly day by day. October, and the shadows were already long by the time the horse brought her boys home from school. And even longer when the workers came in from the woods.

  Gerd was growing stronger and Signe growing bigger. She and Signe had dinner together at the table every day now, and Gerd was knitting a baby sweater. While she still slept in the afternoon, this day she had helped Signe bake cookies for the first time, so her nap was later. Signe started making supper after she fed the boys their afternoon snack.

  When Gerd called for Signe as the others were coming in from the day’s work, she found her gathering her knitting together. She announced that she would eat supper at the table that night.

  Signe nodded but could not keep from smiling. “It is warmer in the kitchen, and the light is better.”

  “I can knit without much light.” But she stood and, taking Signe’s arm, walked to the kitchen. When they reached the table, she asked, “Is there room enough for me?”

  Signe and Rune swapped amazed looks. Gerd had made a joke. Could that be possible?

  Leif grinned. “You can sit by me, Tante Gerd. Knute and I can move our chairs closer together.”

  “Should we go ahead or wait for Einar?” Signe whispered to Rune.

  “Wait a bit. He should be here before dark.” He turned to Knute. “You and Bjorn go wait by the barn so you can unharness the horses.”

  Minutes after the boys left, Einar came inside and stopped at the sink to wash his hands. He did not say a word when he saw his wife at the table. Gerd glared at her husband, gave a slight shake of her head, and when she caught Signe’s glance, rolled her eyes. Without looking at anyone, Einar took his place and waited to be served.

  To Signe, the temperature of the room seemed to drop fifteen degrees. All talking stopped. Bjorn and Knute came in, washed, and took their places.

  Signe brought bowls of chicken and dumplings to the table, along with one of carrots and a plate of sliced bread. They passed the food around, and as always, Einar started shoveling his in, still without looking at anyone. Her boys exchanged looks with each other and Signe.

  “Mrs. Benson sent apples home with us. We left the sack on the porch,” Leif said as he buttered his bread. “This sure smells good.”

  Signe glanced at Einar, but while he did not look up, his jaw tightened.

  “We planted two apple trees, but the deer ate them before they could produce apples.” Gerd buttered her bread and dipped the crust in the chicken and dumplings. “I will need more yarn when you go to the store next, Signe. We need to make a list.”

  Signe almost fell off her chair. Gerd had just tacitly approved Signe’s friendship with Mrs. Benson despite Einar’s wishes. What had the Carlson rebellion come to?

  “We could bring some things home after school.” Leif smiled at Gerd. “If you give us a list.”

  Rune nodded to his son. “Good idea.”

  “I’m going to the store one day next week, so you will have to walk home after school, since I will have the horse and cart,” Signe said. What she should have said was ancient coalbox buggy, for it was practically falling apart. She looked at Einar. His stare impaled her to the back of her chair. She nodded. So this was the way it would continue. So be it.

  At least the cats had not been an issue again. They spent most of their time in the pantry or the attic, two places Einar never went. And Signe had not seen a mouse for days.

  Einar pushed back his chair. “Tools to sharpen.” And out the door he stomped.

  Rune nodded. “You boys get your schoolwork done. Bjorn, you can split wood. Have you cut up that dried tree you dragged in?”

  “Mostly. There’s another down where we got that one.”

  “Dry?”

  “Ja. Needs limbing, then we can drag it up. Perhaps tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see. Gets any colder, and we’ll be butchering hogs. Einar mentioned that the other day.”

  Signe shook her head. Here she had been prepared to be sent away or even get arrested, but things had simply gone back to normal.

  “I will get the coffee.” She paused. “And the cookies.” Einar had left; he could just do without. Tomorrow she would make an apple cake with the gifted apples and hope to buy another box when she went to the store. Apples could last a good while in the cellar.

  After the coffee and cookies, she helped Gerd back to bed.

  “I’m glad you had supper at the table. I know you are tired.”

  “Ja, but . . .” Gerd paused. “In the chest in the parlor, I have flannel nightgowns. Could you fetch one for me?”

  “I could air it on the line tomorrow.”

  “Nei. I will wear it tonight.”

  Back in the kitchen, the boys had cleared the table and she could hear wood being split outside. Leif had started washing the dishes.

  She stepped in beside him. “I will wash and you dry.”

  “Teacher said I have to read aloud in English.”

  “Do you understand what you’re reading?”

  “Pretty much, and arithmetic is the same as at home. The history is very strange. We played baseball at recess. Knute really smacked that ball! He got a home run.”

  That night after all the others had gone to bed, Signe and Rune sat down with their coffee at the table, as had become their habit. “So, has he said anything?” she asked.

  “Not really, he just grumbled about having to take time off to butcher the pigs. He said we needed to bring in a maple tree to use in the smokehouse, and he would show Bjorn and Knute where it is. I think he knows how much he needs us and that I will no longer tolerate his cruelty toward the boys.”

  “I’m finding it easier to ignore him.”

  “I never dreamed Gerd would get strong enough to come to supper. Your hard work is reaping benefits.”

  “Ja. She has knit soakers in two sizes for our baby and will teach me how to hem diapers on the sewing machine. Perhaps she’ll even do some herself.” Signe shook her head. “So many surprises.”

  “Einar explained what all we have to do to get the hogs butchered, since I’ve not done it before. I think he wishes you would just handle it all so he could continue working in the woods.”

  “No apology or mention of the sheriff?”

  Rune shook his head. “Apology? Einar? Surely you are joking.” He drained his coffee cup. “I think I will sleep downstairs with you from now on.”

  “You tired of climbing the ladder too?”

  He gently shook his head. “I was so hoping he would agree to building the stairs. I will talk to him again when things settle down.”

  Rune took her hand and helped her to her feet.

  The next morning when Rune rose to start the stove, he could see his breath as he headed for the outhouse. He hurried, since he’d not donned a jacket. Working in the woods today would be cold too. According to Einar, they needed a week of freezing weather for hanging the hogs to age after they were slaughtered. They would hang them in the machine shed, like they had the deer.

  With the stove fire crackling and popping, he climbed up the ladder to call his boys. Signe groaned as she used a chair to help pull herself to her feet. They needed a bed along with the stairway. Perhaps he would be able to build a bed now that they came in from the woods earlier. But there wasn’t room in the parl
or for a bed unless they moved the furniture out. Uff da. The someday when they would have a house of their own seemed farther off than ever.

  On the fourth day of the cold snap, the weather steadily grew colder. Einar announced they would butcher the next morning, so the boys were not to feed the butcher hogs that night.

  “Can we stay home and help?” Knute asked the next morning.

  “Nei, go to school; you can help when you come home.” Rune looked at Einar, who had gone back to eating his breakfast. Knute groaned, but Leif looked relieved.

  “Just the two that we penned up, right?” Leif asked.

  Rune nodded. He knew how Leif felt about the pigs he’d been feeding. One of those to be slaughtered was his favorite. “You go on and head for school.” He shot Einar a warning look. There would be no making fun of his tenderhearted son. He asked, “We’ll send the rest of the gilts and barrows to market on the hoof?”

  Einar nodded.

  “Come on, Leif, you’ll make us late.” Knute grabbed their dinner pails. “You want to ride in front today?”

  Rune nodded and smiled at Knute. He knew Knute did not want to be there when Einar killed the hogs either, but he had grown tougher since they came to Amerika.

  By the time they had the hogs winched up and dressed out, they were all sweating in spite of the cold. Dressing a hog was not that different from dressing a deer, so Bjorn took his turn stripping the guts out into a bucket.

  “Take the heart and liver up to the house,” Rune told Bjorn, “and ask Mor if she plans to make headcheese. Tell her these two hogs are plenty fat, so she’ll have lots of lard to render.”

  After they scraped the bristles off the hides, they wrapped the carcasses in sheeting and hung them up. Einar sharpened the knives and saw he would use to cut up the meat while Rune and Bjorn cleaned up the mess.

  When the boys got home, Knute said, “You’re all done?”

  Einar did not reply. He simply said, “We’ll go for that maple tree now.”

  Rune nodded. His idea of resting after their labor obviously was not going to happen. “You want Bjorn too?”

  “Ja.”

  His tone reprimanded Rune for not figuring that out, but instead of commenting, Rune went to harness the team. One thing to say for Einar, he was not afraid of hard work. Not that any of Rune’s family was either, but more and more he was realizing the importance of gratitude. It was a shame he had to learn that through someone else’s cruelty.

  Thanks to a nearly full moon, they did not have to drag the tree up in the pitch dark.

  “Do sugar maples grow here?” Rune asked.

  Einar grunted, leaving Rune to assume the answer was yes. The thought of making maple syrup in the spring made his mouth water.

  They dragged the tree near the sawbucks, where the boys could cut the trunk into smokehouse lengths.

  “The boys will bring up the bigger branches tomorrow.” Einar did not say “after school.” He never mentioned school.

  When they finally stepped up onto the porch, the fragrance of liver and onions greeted them. Rune walked into the kitchen and kissed Signe’s cheek. “Thank you for the wonderful food you prepared.”

  Gratitude was valuable. He would not forget that.

  The weather stayed below freezing for the rest of the week, giving Signe time to grind and render out the lard before she had to start canning meat. She had bought two pounds of pepper at Benson’s. She would work that into the ground pork to make sausage, which would be made into patties and stored in crocks in the cellar with a layer of lard on top to seal them.

  Without asking permission, the day she decided to go to the store she had the boys put a small crock of lard into the wagon so she could sell that to Mrs. Benson too, if she desired. If not, Signe would bring it home again. Surely not everyone around here raised hogs.

  She motioned for Knute to drive. His grin made her smile. Most of the leaves were dancing across the road rather than hanging on the trees. She sucked in a deep breath. “Do you smell that?”

  Both boys nodded. “Fall smells as good here as in Norway.” Knute clucked for the horse to pick up her feet a bit faster.

  When they reached the store, Mrs. Benson invited her in for a cup of coffee while Mr. Benson loaded all the supplies from her long list. Signe leaned back against the chair, twisting her body to be more comfortable.

  “Are you sure you’re not due earlier than late November?” Mrs. Benson asked as she set the coffee and a plate of apple pie in front of Signe. “Unless you are carrying twins.” She eyed Signe’s girth. “I don’t know how you got up in that wagon.”

  “I’ve only felt one kicking and bucking around.” She laid her hand on the mound that now took up all of her lap. “I do not remember anyone in my family having twins. But this is sure an active baby.”

  “Are you sleeping well?”

  “Other than needing to get up for the outhouse more often.” Signe inhaled the cinnamon perfume of warm apple pie. “Takk for the box of apples. I wish you would let me pay you though. I thought the lard . . .”

  “I am happy you brought the lard. I’ll get the crock back to you as soon as it is empty. If you wanted to sell half, or even a whole pig, we would be happy to buy it.”

  Signe stared at her. She’d not thought of selling, only of smoking and canning. “I will ask and send a note with the boys. Takk—er, thank you. Knute insists I learn to speak English better.”

  “Oh, by the way, there is mail. I will make sure it goes home with you. I wish you could join our ladies at church so you could get to know some of the people around here. We have a relief society that meets once a month when the weather is agreeable.”

  The thought made Signe sigh. “Perhaps after the baby comes.” What if she could get Gerd to come with her? She forced a smile. “We shall see.”

  How marvelous it felt to be sitting in someone else’s warm kitchen, sun shining through gingham-curtained windows and apple butter cooking in the oven, enticing her to accept another offer of pie.

  “Thank you, but no, I had best be on my way.” Hard words to say, but there was no one at the house if Gerd needed help.

  “Then let me get a box of apples for you into the wagon.” Mrs. Benson patted Signe’s hand. “Several of the women brought some baby things for you to use. How are you coming on hemming diapers?”

  “Gerd has been hemming some on her sewing machine. I have been so busy with putting up the pork that I haven’t had time to learn yet. Someday. She even made a baby blanket.”

  “Your coming has indeed saved her life. I hope that husband of hers realizes how fortunate he is to have you all here to help them.”

  Signe kept the truth from bursting forth by a strength she did not know she had. How she would love to tell how things really were, but what good would that do? She had been careful in writing home, only hinting at what she thought of Einar Strand. After all, the sheriff had never shown up. It could be a lot worse.

  “Thank you for the coffee and pie.”

  “Of course.”

  After the goodbyes and Mr. Benson had helped her up in the wagon, Signe patted her bag, which contained two letters. What if someday Nilda could indeed come?

  Chapter

  26

  MID-OCTOBER 1909

  Signe heaved a sigh. Gerd was finally asleep.

  She sat down at the table. She still thought about how warm and inviting Mrs. Benson’s kitchen was. Perhaps she could put gingham curtains in this kitchen. It would help. Maybe after the baby came. She would not mention them, just make them and hang them. Einar probably would not even notice.

  Leif burst into the kitchen with Knute right behind. Knute caught the door just in time to keep it from slamming. “Mor, you got a letter. It looks important. It’s from a steamship company.” Leif hesitated. “We’re not going back to Norway, are we?”

  “Nei.” Signe ripped open the envelope and studied the letter. Then she got out the piece of paper she had been calculating
on, and her heart sang. She was right! “Knute, thank you for keeping the door quiet. There is still enough daylight to spread the manure from the pile by the barn onto the garden. Make sure we have gotten all the carrots and rutabagas dug out first.”

  The boys hurried out. She spent a long time studying the letter and her calculations, deciding how she would bring up this subject. She laid her hands on the papers. “God, help me with my words and thoughts. I am so frightened. Help me do this right.”

  One thing was certain—she had to be bold so she could keep her nerve when Einar started yelling.

  The boys came in with a bucket of root vegetables just as Signe heard the wagon rattling into the yard. “Takk, now go get your chores done. You are late.” These boys. They were so ready to work. What fine sons they were. They deserved the best, and she was going to do everything she could to get them the best.

  She watched Einar all through the meal. His scowl relaxed as he put away a second helping of pork chops with creamed gravy. Eventually he sat back, rubbed his belly, belched, and for a change did not glare at her. Then he surged to his feet as he always did after he finished eating, even though the others were not done.

  “Sit down, Onkel Einar,” Signe said. “We’re not finished here.”

  He stared at her. “You forget who gives the orders. I’m going to sharpen the axes. You boys come along and help.”

  “I received a letter from the steamship company today. Sit down, please.”

  Rune’s mouth dropped open.

  “The what?” Einar’s face showed a whole series of emotions all at once. He sat down carefully, as if the chair might explode.

  “This is more important than sharpening axes. You are a fine teacher, Einar, and Bjorn is learning to be very good in the woods. He loves logging, and he thinks he doesn’t need more schooling. I am about to demonstrate to Bjorn why he does need to learn more.” She pulled her papers out of her apron pocket, plopped them in front of Einar, and smoothed them open.

  He gaped at the letter from the steamship company.

  She stabbed with a finger. “This is the fare for an adult’s passage from Norway to America. The boys’ fares were even less. Adding them all up, this is what you paid for us to come here.” She circled the sum with her pencil.