She shaded her eyes to see if Lars had turned the horses toward home. Off in the distance she heard the shrieking whistle of the riverboat churning its way upriver. Was that the signal that meant the captain had something for the Bjorklunds, or was he just warning any craft going downriver that he was coming around the bend?
Metiz shook her head no when Penny asked if they needed to go to the river. “Make three short hoots, like owl.”
Penny set Andrew back on his chair and looked across the room to see Kaaren struggling to open her eyes. At her signal, Penny went to the bed to help settle the babies so their mother could sit up. Laying the sling so the tiny bodies slept side by side, she covered them with the quilt and gave Kaaren a hand.
“I feel if I don’t get out of this bed right now, I might never make it.”
Penny made a face and looked to Metiz, who nodded once. “Okay, but you must be careful. You want I should put the two in the box on the oven door?”
When she got there that morning, the first thing she did was line a box Lars had brought in with a quilt and sheet for the babies to sleep in when they weren’t with their mother. Keeping them warm enough was the biggest problem. She and Kaaren had laughed about doing the same thing for baby pigs, only then the lining was straw.
“Help me to the rocker first, please.”
Penny chewed her lip. Her aunt Agnes always said those Bjorklund women were some stubborn. “You sure?”
When Kaaren nodded, Penny leaned over the edge of the bed. “Wrap your arms around me, and I’ll do the same to you. Then we can pull together.”
“I should wait for Lars, but he’ll get all upset, so . . .” She did as told.
“On three.” Penny braced her feet and knees against the pole side of the bed. She counted and together they heaved. Or rather, she lifted and Kaaren bit back a whimper. “See, I told you.”
“These beds are hard enough to get out of when you feel strong.” Kaaren took a deep breath and with great effort swung her legs over the side. “Now.”
By the time she stood swaying, totally dependent upon Penny’s strength, Kaaren wondered if staying in bed hadn’t been a better idea. She heard a cry from the tiny mound under the covers. All the rocking woke Grace, and at the stronger, slightly deeper second whimper, Kaaren shook her head. “Now they are both awake. Let’s get me to the rocker.” The four-foot distance looked more like an acre.
Penny grabbed the pillow off the bed and put an arm around Kaaren’s waist, helping the new mother hobble and sink down into the now pillow-padded rocking chair.
Kaaren leaned her head back with a sigh. “I don’t remember being this tired and sore before.”
“You never had twins before.”
Penny brought a quilt over and tucked it around Kaaren’s legs. Then she fetched a shawl and wrapped it around the woman’s shoulders. She stepped back. “You want a footstool?”
The whimpers from the bed grew louder.
“What a wonderful sound.” Kaaren tucked the ends of the shawl back under her arms. How could she be so tired from just crossing three or four steps? Of course, it had taken her more than that since she shuffled but . . . she looked up to see Penny waiting for an answer. “Yes, that would be nice. Then I’ll have more of a lap for the babies.”
Thorliff and Baptiste burst through the door, wiping their hands on their pants, their faces showing the effects of splashing water on streaks of dirt. “Lars said give him a couple more minutes. He was just finishing taking the harness off.”
The two in the bed started crying at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, sorry.” He toned it down, the look on his face saying “sorry, I forgot” plain as the streaks of mud said he’d been in the fields.
Penny pointed to their places, shaking her head. “You ever hear of a washcloth for your faces?” She smiled at their chagrined expressions. “If you ain’t just like the boys at our house.”
“How come they didn’t come with you?” Thorliff slipped onto his chair.
“They’re too busy splitting shingles. And besides, with Pa and Petar out in the fields, they got all the chores to do.”
Thorliff and Baptiste swapped looks that said they had the same.
Metiz dished up the plates and handed them to Penny, who put them in front of the boys. Lars entered at that moment. “Did you already say grace?”
Thorliff put his fork back down. He shook his head.
Lars crossed to pat his wife’s shoulder. “Good to see you up, but you could have waited for me to carry you.” He looked toward the bed. “Who told them it was eating time?”
“Babies know.” Metiz set a bowl of biscuits in the center of the table, fending off Andrew’s reaching hand. She looked at Kaaren. “You want eat? Or feed them?” She nodded toward the bed.
“Them.” Within moments Metiz had positioned a baby at each breast and helped Kaaren arrange a blanket to cover them. “Good.” She took the last place at the table.
Kaaren let the noise recede as she concentrated on the tiny mouths pulling at each breast. Pains in both her breasts and belly made her breathe deeply. This was normal, she remembered from her earlier stints at motherhood. Thank you, Lord, they are able to nurse, that they are strong enough. Such a miracle you have made happen. She prayed for Solveig, for Haakan and Ingeborg’s safe trip, and thanked Him again for those at the table. To think Penny arrived on one of the Baards’ mules with some clothes tied in a bundle behind her, ready to stay however long she was needed. Thank you, Father, for her, too, and for the Baards who surely are a gift from you. Please care for these your children—your babies—your gift to us.
The sounds from the table intruded on her reverie.
“Andrew’s almost asleep,” Thorliff announced.
“Oh my.” Penny’s chair scraped back. “Here, den lille guten, let’s put you to bed.”
Andrew tried to argue, but his no came out so sweetly that everyone laughed.
“Just put him in the other bed. He sleeps there often.” Kaaren shifted her arm. Tingles shot up it. A baby on each arm could put both arms to sleep, let alone her.
“Are they finished?” Penny asked a few moments later.
“Sophie is. I don’t think Grace ate enough, but she is so weak in comparison. Maybe I should feed her more often since she can’t seem to nurse very long.”
Metiz joined them. She picked up Sophie and rocked the infant in her arms, crooning in her own language.
Kaaren put Grace up to her shoulder and patted the baby’s back until a burp came.
Penny took that baby over to the waist-high chest of drawers that Lars had finished just before the babies came. They’d padded the top for a place to change diapers. Once both babies were dry again, she set the box on a chair in front of the open oven door and placed the sleeping girls side by side, closely wrapped in their flannel blankets. Draping a towel over the top, she stepped back, one finger to her chin. “I can’t put it any closer, the oven’s too hot.”
“Put hot rock in box.” Metiz turned from ladling stew onto a plate for Kaaren. “Wrap it up.”
“Where would I find a rock?”
“At river. Ask Thorliff and Baptiste.”
Penny nodded. “Metiz, you think of everything.” She was out the door in an instant, calling the boys as soon as she was beyond range of waking the babies.
The old woman snorted, but her eyes sparkled when she gave Kaaren her plate. “Penny good girl.”
For the first time since her labor began, Kaaren appreciated the taste of food again. When Metiz handed her a cup of dark water with steam rising, she drank that right down, too, making only a small grimace at the taste.
“My mor always said to drink lots of milk with new babies to feed. Would you mind heating some for me? Cold things just don’t sound too good yet.”
Metiz nodded.
Kaaren felt herself dropping into a drowse while she waited, finally forcing herself to mop up the gravy with her last bit of bread. She was as bad as the babies�
�eat and sleep. She drank the warmed milk and didn’t argue when Metiz and Penny helped her back to bed.
The next two days and nights passed in a haze of feeding, eating, sleeping, and longer spells at a time in the rocking chair. The afternoon she stepped outside and felt the sun warm her face, she knew for sure she was on the mend. When the steam whistle tooted three times, she sent Penny down to the landing.
“Either there’s a message or someone is coming and will need a ride.” Her heart leaped at the thought it might be Ingeborg and Haakan with the injured one, but she ignored it. There was no way they would be returning already.
“The captain said the lumber will be in Grafton day after tomorrow,” Penny told Kaaren when she came puffing back to the soddy. “Sure is nice to get messages that way.” She put her hand to her chest to catch her breath. Just think, Hjelmer could come home that way. So much faster than walking or even a horse. She shut off the “if only” before it had time to sprout into words. All she needed to do was keep busy. At least that was Aunt Agnes’s remedy for an aching heart.
That night while Penny and Andrew slept in the other bed and Metiz kept to her pallet on the floor, Kaaren whispered to Lars that she felt like a sow with piglets that wanted to suckle all the time.
“Prettiest sow I ever saw,” he whispered back, his breath tickling her ear. “And the prettiest pair of piglets too.”
She joined the family for dinner at the table on the third day. When Lars offered extra prayers in gratitude for her growing strength and for the babies, who were still alive, she felt the tears that seemed to hover endlessly on the tips of her eyelashes leave their place and trickle down her cheeks. She brushed them away before the others raised their heads.
Thorliff and Paws announcing that company was coming woke her from a sound sleep a bit later.
“Who is it?” she asked.
The boys shrugged. “One man walking,” Baptiste offered. “Pack on shoulder.”
Kaaren yawned and stretched. “Go call off Paws so the man feels welcome.”
“I’ll put the coffeepot on.” Penny headed for the stove.
A minute later, Thorliff darted back in the house. “He says he’s your onkel, Tante Kaaren. Do you have an Onkel Olaf?”
Onkel Olaf! We thought you died years ago.”
The oak-tree solid man removed his hat and held it in front of his chest. He had set his bundle down outside the door when Penny invited him in. “Ja, I was afraid of that. But as you can see, I am still alive. When I heard you was moved to America, I made up my mind to come looking for you.”
“How did you hear?” Kaaren tried pushing herself up on the pillows, but her sling full of babies got in the way. At her look of helplessness, Metiz crossed the room and gave her a helping hand. Kaaren waved to the rocking chair. “Sit and be comfortable. Penny will have the coffee ready in a few minutes.”
“Well, I finally sat myself down and wrote a letter to my home in Nordland, and my older brother—he inherited the farm there—he wrote me a long letter back. He told about you people homesteading out here and doing such a fine job in spite of your many tragedies. So I come to see my nearest relatives.”
“Ja.” Kaaren nodded. “Well, thank the Lord. Can you stay? I mean, would you like to work for a while? I mean, we would pay you wages for working.” She stuttered and stammered a bit, not quite knowing how to proceed. It wasn’t good manners to ask a guest to help, but she could only think God had sent them another pair of hands. Joseph sent his boys every day or came himself, but she knew he had plenty of work of his own.
“You sure? Without asking your husband?”
She smiled. “Things are some different out here. I know Lars will be overjoyed.”
“Then I will work for my board and room.” The words sounded like a pronouncement with no chance for argument.
Kaaren kept her arms under the warm little bodies in the sling and began the rocking motion that soothed them back to sleep after one whimpered. When she noticed his perplexed look, she shared a smile with Metiz. Yes, things were surely different out here on the Bjorklund farms. Babies in a sling around their mother’s neck, boys or women doing man’s work when needed, and a husband who even helped with a birthing. Uncle Olaf would have lots of surprises coming his way in the days to come.
“In case you are wondering, my twin baby girls are sleeping here.” She gestured to the blue sling. “They were born so tiny that this was the best way we could think of to keep them warm enough. Sometimes we keep them in a box on the oven door.”
“How are they now?”
“Getting stronger.” She shrugged her shoulders to shift the weight. “Now, tell me what else you learned of home and where you have been all these years.” Olaf was the next older brother of her mother, and Kaaren remembered the sadness when they no longer heard from the man. “Does my mor know about you now too?” At his nod, she smiled again. “She must be so happy. Strange that you got a letter before I did.”
He only nodded at her many questions. “Mange takk,” he said to Penny when she handed him a full coffee cup, and then again when she set a plate of bread and cheese in front of him. With a few terse words he told of his life aboard a merchant marine ship that took him all over the world before it sank on a reef off Florida, his rescue with a few of the other sailors, and then the various jobs he’d held traveling around the country. “I been a cooper of both barrels and buckets, built barns and stores in Wisconsin. Anything of wood, I can make, you know.”
Kaaren itched to ask him more about his adventures, but the babies were stirring and she knew that meant feeding time. So she bit her tongue for the moment and looked to Penny.
“Would you please take my onkel out to the field to meet Lars and then show him the other bed in Ingeborg’s soddy? The boys will have to sleep on pallets on the floor.”
Penny nodded. “You want he should store his bundle over there too?”
“Ja.”
“Now, I ain’t got to have a bed. Been known to sleep real good in a barn or some such. You know, I ain’t saying I have to stay here. I don’t want to put you out.”
“There’s always room for one more.” The whimpers turned to the creaks that would soon turn into full-fledged wails. Sophie knew how to get one’s attention already. And she always woke up ready to eat—immediately if not before.
Olaf slapped hands whose very scars told of his many kinds of labor, from the missing little finger on his right hand to the bent index finger on his left. Ridges, valleys, gnarly knuckles, a black-and-blue fingernail, all spoke of well-used hands.
“Mange takk for the coffee and bread. I’ll be going with the young miss here.” He crossed to the bed and stood looking down at the babies, smaller than many baby dolls. With one nicked finger, feather-light, he touched Sophie’s cheek. She turned in that direction, lips already circled to suckle. Olaf chuckled. “She be a smart one, that. Takes advantage of anything comes her way.” He smiled directly into Kaaren’s eyes. “They be something, all right.”
She watched him leave the room, feeling as if he’d seen more in her baby than she. She looked up to see Metiz nodding.
“That one wise man.” She lifted the sling from around Kaaren’s shoulders and helped settle the two to nursing. As usual, Sophie sucked greedily while Grace was still searching. Metiz braced Sophie while Kaaren helped the weaker one. With both of them content, the two women exchanged looks of relief.
“How many children did you have?” Kaaren asked, brave enough at last to ask the old woman a personal question.
“Two man childs, one girl—all gone now. Baptiste born, mother die. My girl.”
“Oh, Metiz,” Kaaren answered with a heavy sigh. “So much you have borne.”
“Life hard. Be born, grow, die. All up to Great Spirit.”
Kaaren dropped light kisses on the downy heads of her babies. Please, God, hold these two in your hand, like you said, in your victorious right hand. She blinked against the burning at the back of
her eyes, sniffing at the same time. Living in the right now meant letting go of both the memories of the past and the fears for the future. Someone had once said there was no room in God’s hand for the past or the future, only the now. She nodded, grateful for that memory.
She watched Metiz put more wood in the firebox. “There’s a smoked venison haunch in the smokehouse that would be good roasted for supper. We could cook the potatoes and rutabagas, carrots, too, in the same kettle.”
“Onions.” Metiz dusted her hands. “I get.”
They spent the evening getting to know one another. Olaf, much to Kaaren’s surprise and delight, was a master storyteller, keeping them entertained until she caught Thorliff bumping his chin on his chest. Andrew had crawled into his warm spot behind the stove hours earlier. After everyone was in bed and the others asleep, Lars whispered in her ear.
“God surely sent us a gift direct from heaven in that man. And to think he came right now when we so needed the extra hands.”
“Ja, God is good.” Kaaren shifted her sling so she could lie on her side, leaving the twins tightly bound in their blankets and lying close like two of the same piece. She laid her arm over Lars’ chest, comforted by his steady heartbeat. God is good, and that said it all.
“Tomorrow Olaf and I will take the two wagons to Grafton to pick up lumber for the barn. The boys will stay home to help you.”
“Will Joseph go too?” She felt him nod. “Good.” As she’d said, God is good.
Ingeborg swallowed once and yet again. Praying for strength, she crossed the room to where the injured woman lay sleeping in the bed nearest the door of the eight-bed ward. Ah, Solveig, once so fair, how will you learn to live with that scar?
The oval face with a straight nose that looked so much like Kaaren’s now wore a stitched line slanting from temple to nearly the point of her chin. The bones of her face looked to be poking holes through her skin. Hair, once so full and golden, now hung in strings, showing an area above her left ear that had been shaved so the doctor could stitch a cut that looked to be healing well. While a blanket hid her legs, the extra size of splint and wrappings showed which one had broken.
A Land to Call Home Page 12