Tracie Peterson, Tracey V. Bateman, Pamela Griffin, JoAnn A. Grote

by Prairie Christmas Collection

  “Give me until Christmas,” she finally said.

  Sven rubbed his chin and exchanged a glance with Erik. “It would be mighty hard to wait.”

  “Well, I can give you part of your share now, and if Ina can wait, I’ll have the rest by then.”

  “How much are you talking about?” Sven questioned.

  Sigrid could see that she had his interest. “Twenty dollars.”

  “Twenty?” He perked up at this and rubbed his chin again. “I suppose I could wait until Christmas.”

  “Good,” Sigrid said, jumping to her feet. She rushed to her room and took out twenty dollars from the money she’d saved back. It didn’t leave her much, but in a few weeks she would make it all up. Hurrying back, she thrust the money into Sven’s hands before he could change his mind. “Now, I have work to do.”

  Going back to the sink, she ignored the hushed talk between her brother and Erik. Please God, let it be enough to make Sven go in peace, she prayed. She understood her brother’s need for cash, but it hurt her that he couldn’t understand her reluctance to leave the home of her birth.

  “Well, I’ll go then. Olga will wonder why I’ve been so long to town.”

  “Don’t lose your money,” Sigrid called out, turning to watch him go.

  When Sven had gone, she could see that Erik had more to say. Wiping her hands on her apron, Sigrid came to sit down once again and folded her arms. “All right, speak Mr. Lindquist, and tell me what I’ve done to offend you now.”

  Erik shook his head. “You haven’t offended me. I just wish I could explain some things to you. I wish you’d let me help.”

  “Help do what? Buy the farm?”

  “I could help you in that way. You know I wouldn’t expect you to move. Letting me help you would be a whole sight easier than working yourself into an early grave.”

  Sigrid could see that he was genuinely concerned and that his words were given in an attitude of sincerity. She felt her resolve crumble. He had been good to her and Moder, and to turn her back on him now would be cruel.

  “Erik, you are kind to offer, but I don’t think I could live here with you owning the land. I could never afford to pay for my keep and it wouldn’t be right to expect you to let me live here for free.”

  Erik smiled. “Like I said before, we could get married. I’d be happy to pay Sven and Ina their fifty dollars, and we could even live on here if you wanted to.”

  Sigrid was touched more deeply than she could express. That Erik would offer himself up in that manner seemed to say that her welfare was of more importance to him than his own. “That’s very kind, Erik,” she murmured. “Kind, but not very practical for you.”

  “I don’t want you thinking that it would just be an act of kindness,” Erik said, seeming to struggle for words. “I mean … well—”

  “You don’t need to explain,” Sigrid interrupted. “I know how you cared about Moder and you probably feel obligated to see me cared for, for her sake. I think, too, that you understand why I want to stay on. But, I’d like to accomplish this myself. I don’t want anyone marrying me out of pity, all so that I can keep a parcel of land and a run-down house.”

  “Sigrid—”

  “No, hear me out, Erik. It’s important to me that you know how much I appreciate your offer. It shows what a good friend you really are. I’m sorry I got so mad at you earlier, but you have to understand I’m a grown woman. I can’t have you telling me who I can and can’t talk to, and I don’t want you worrying about the men coming here to eat. God watches over me, and He knows my heart in this matter.”

  Erik’s expression seemed almost pained. Sigrid thought it would be better to put the matter behind them. “I’ve got to get to work, whether you do or not,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted. She got to her feet and went back to the sink. “God will work out the details.”

  Erik left the Larsson house feeling more frustrated than ever. God might know Sigrid’s heart, but he sure couldn’t figure it out. Had she fallen in love with that Carter fellow? Why couldn’t she see the trouble Carter could be? She was too naive, too sheltered. He wanted to explain all of those things to her, but she’d only see it as interference.

  Kicking at a rock, Erik looked up at the sky. Wisps of lacy white clouds were strung out against the brilliant blue. It would rain tomorrow or the next day for sure, and he still had work to do in the fields. Maybe he would give Sigrid another day to think about things and then he would bring up the subject again. Only this time, he thought, I’ll find a way to tell her how I feel about her. Surely that would make a difference.

  Chapter 5

  SMORBAKELSER

  (Swedish Butter Cookies)

  1 cup butter

  2 egg yolks ½ cup sugar

  2 cups flour

  1 tsp. almond extract

  1 tsp. vanilla extract

  Cream butter, egg yolks, sugar, and extracts together until light and fluffy. Add flour and mix well. Dough will be soft, but not sticky. Roll out (don’t overflour) and cut with cookie cutter or use in cookie press. Bake at 4000F for 8 to 10 minutes. They burn easily, so be careful.

  The September wedding of her widowed friend Ella Swanson gave Sigrid something else to focus on other than work. Ella, with her three fatherless boys, was quite happy to accept an offer of marriage from Per Anderson. The thirty-five year-old bachelor seemed overly quiet and reserved for Ella’s rambunctious bunch, but Sigrid could see that the boys adored the man. And, Ella seemed quite satisfied with the match.

  With the weather cooperating perfectly, the wedding supper was held outside in picnic fashion on the church lawn. Sigrid had baked several dishes to bring to the supper, including one of Ella’s favorites, smorbakelser, little butter cookies so light and rich that they instantly melt in your mouth. They appear, Sigrid thought with a smile, to be one of Erik’s favorites as well. Seeing him make yet another trip to the dessert table, she watched him grab up a handful of the cookies and plop them down on his plate in a rather possessive manner.

  “Oh, there you are,” Mrs. Moberg said, coming up from behind Sigrid. “I hoped to talk to you. I heard it said that the railroad is planning to buy your land for a depot. Is that true? What will you do then? Are you going to live with Sven and Olga?”

  Taken aback by the rapid interrogation, Sigrid shook her head. “I don’t know anything about a depot, but I don’t plan to sell the farmstead to the railroad. Where did you get such an idea?”

  The robust woman jutted her chin in the air. “Mr. Moberg told me, and where he heard it from, I can’t say.”

  “Well someone obviously has their facts wrong.”

  “Wrong about what?” Mrs. Swanson questioned and before waiting for an answer, added, “Don’t Ella look nice?”

  They all agreed that Ella made a radiant bride before Mrs. Moberg relayed her information on the railroad.

  “Ja, I heard there was talk of a depot and roundhouse for the engines. Your farmstead is a good place for these things.”

  “That’s not my opinion,” Sigrid said. “I intend to get down to the bottom of this gossip right away.” Leaving the two old women to stare after her in stunned silence, Sigrid went in search of Ruben.

  Weaving her way through the crowd, Sigrid felt disheartened at not being able to immediately locate Ruben. She knew he’d been invited to the celebration, and she had counted on seeing him here. It was funny the way he made her feel. Sometimes she welcomed his visits and other times he made her feel like a creature misplaced in time. He laughed at her crude lifestyle and told her that with the coming of the new century, her way of life would rapidly become obsolete. Still, he made her feel like a woman, all feminine and girlish. She found herself wanting to impress him, and she wanted him to take notice.

  Spying him watching a game of horseshoes, Sigrid slipped up from behind and pulled on his coat sleeve. “Can we talk for a moment?”

  He flashed her a grin that suggested she’d just made his day, and with a hand
to the small of her back, he led her away from the crowd to a nearby stand of trees.

  “What would you like to talk about?” he asked, rubbing one of the handlebars of his mustache between his thumb and finger. “I’ve known weddings to bring even the shyest girl out of her shell.”

  Sigrid felt her cheeks grow hot. Ruben seemed to imply that she was interested in some kind of romantic tryst, and while she could easily see herself in the role, she had to know the truth about her property.

  “I’ve been told by some of my friends that the railroad intends to try to build a depot on my land. Maybe even take the entire farmstead for a roundhouse and such. Is this true, Ruben?” She searched his face, particularly his dark eyes, and waited for some sign that would reassure her.

  Ruben took hold of her hand and kissed it lightly. Sigrid found herself trembling from the action and quickly pulled her hand away. “Is it true?” she pressed the question again.

  “I have no knowledge of it, if it is,” he admitted. “I would have been told if that were the plan, and I know nothing of it.”

  Sigrid relaxed a bit and sighed. “I hate gossip. It’s always getting a person worked up for no reason at all.” She felt him move closer to her and thought of moving away. But the thought quickly passed from her mind.

  “Sigrid, you are so beautiful. I don’t know why you let yourself worry about things. Trust me, I’ll find out if there is any truth to the rumors. In the meantime, why don’t we spend some time together? We could walk down by the creek and leave the others to their celebration while we have our own private party.”

  Sigrid stammered at his passionate expression. “I … ah … I don’t think …” Before she could finish her words, Ruben pulled her into his arms.

  “I don’t want you to think about anything but me,” he said and kissed her quite soundly on the mouth.

  Sigrid stood absolutely rigid as he let her go. She had to remain fixed that way, because she was certain if she so much as took a single step, her knees would buckle from beneath her.

  He gently touched the curl of hair that fell over one ear. “You are a magnificent woman, Sigrid. I think I’m losing my heart to you.”

  Sigrid couldn’t look him the eye. The whole idea of being courted was so foreign to her. For so many years she’d kept her heart completely boxed off, knowing that as the youngest daughter she was required to care for her mother until the time of her death.

  “Don’t be afraid to trust your heart,” Ruben said, softly. “Come with me.”

  Sigrid knew it would be impossible to go with him down to the creek. What little reputation she might have managed to keep intact would be ruined for certain if they were to slip away.

  “I … I need to go,” she finally said, and turned to walk briskly away.

  Ruben did nothing to stop her, and a part of her was hurt by this. If he cared so much about keeping her company, why didn’t he at least call after her? But another part of her was just as grateful that he didn’t. She’d never been kissed on the mouth before, and it seemed such a glorious and wondrous experience that Sigrid wanted to find a way to go off by herself and contemplate what had just happened.

  “I just saw him kiss her,” Mrs. Moberg was saying to a collected gathering of older women. “I think that more than suggests what I said was true.”

  Erik came upon this conversation as he made his fourth trip to the supper tables. His agitation at not being able to spend time alone with Sigrid had made him poor company for everyone else. She was ignoring him, and in the months that had passed since his offer to marry her, Sigrid had never allowed him to speak on the matter again. He’d hoped the atmosphere of a wedding might give him the forum to declare his love, but so far Sigrid had remained completely out of his company.

  “You know I heard they were close to an understanding,” one of the women continued the conversation.

  “Bah!” exclaimed Mrs. Moberg, “I’ve heard it said that Sigrid has already accepted his proposal. Think on that, our Sigrid married to Ruben Carter. Why I don’t imagine she would stay in Lindsborg long after that.”

  “No, indeed,” a third woman countered. “I heard he is rich. Lives in a fancy mansion in Kansas City. No doubt she’d prefer spending the winter in luxury rather than on the prairie.”

  Erik’s chest tightened as the words of the conversation permeated his brain. Sigrid and Carter were engaged? When had this happened?

  “Well, from the looks of the way he was kissing her just now, I’d say they’d better do something in a hurry,” Mrs. Moberg added in a rather haughty tone.

  Erik left his plate at the table and walked away in a daze. Carter had kissed Sigrid? And she’d let him? Anger slowly welled inside. It seemed to pulsate to life from every part of his body, until there was a hard, black ball knotting up in his stomach. She couldn’t be in love with that two-faced, no-good.

  “Erik, have you seen my sister?”

  Erik glanced up to find Sven coming toward him. “No, but apparently a good many other people have.”

  Sven stared at him with an expression of confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

  Erik started to explain, then bit back the retort and shrugged. “I can’t seem to locate her, but I’ve heard others mention having seen her. She must be around here somewhere.”

  “Ja, I suppose she’s found some way to keep busy.”

  Erik grimaced. “Yes, I suppose she has.”

  He walked away quickly, lest he should open his mouth and let pour the anger inside. Hurrying away from the party, Erik found himself taking the long way back to his house. He realized that he wanted nothing more than to find Sigrid and force some sense into her head. And then, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her himself and show her that he meant business.

  “I’m powerful angry, Lord,” he said, looking skyward. “I don’t mean to be, but I am and there’s no use denying it. I’ve tried to be reasonable about things. I’ve tried to keep my hands and mind busy so that she’d have time to consider my proposal, but it isn’t my proposal she’s considering.”

  He slowed his stride as his anger spent itself in prayer. “I don’t want to lose her, but how can I convince her that I love her?”

  Just tell her, a voice seemed to say.

  Erik stopped in his tracks and glanced around him. Nothing but a few buildings and cornfields greeted his gaze. Maybe God was trying to speak to his heart. Maybe he had relied too long on his own understanding, and now it was time to face doing things another way.

  “Have I ignored You, God?” he asked suddenly. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Erik moved on down the lane. He tried to imagine what God would have him do.

  “Tell her? But she already knows how I feel about her. After all, I asked her to marry me.”

  You asked her to marry you so that you could keep her on her land, his heart reminded him. You said nothing of love.

  “Well, maybe it’s time I did,” Erik declared, suddenly feeling a bit of his self-confidence return. “After all, they aren’t married yet.”

  Chapter 6

  EGG GRAVY

  2 T. bacon or sausage drippings

  4 cups milk

  2 T. flour

  2 egg yolks

  ½ tsp. salt

  Put meat drippings into a skillet over medium heat. Add flour as you would for gravy. Blend and leave to brown a bit. Mix milk, egg yolks (slightly beaten), and salt, and add to flour and grease. Mix this until thick, but don’t allow it to curdle. Add more milk if you like thinner gravy. When mixture is the right consistency for you, remove from heat and serve over Swedish rye bread.

  Harvest was a busy time of year for all of Lindsborg, but Sigrid found it especially trying. It was easy to see now how hard her mother had worked. Even though Tilly was unable to do much of the heavy work, she had prepared the vegetables for canning and helped with the livestock. Now that all of this fell to Sigrid’s shoulders, her only saving grace was that the railroad had completed its line and she was
no longer needed to feed the workers.

  Still, she’d been up by four that morning to do her own chores, and throughout the course of the day, there’d been little opportunity to even pause for the briefest rest. Most of the morning had been spent in cleaning vegetables and the afternoon would be devoted to canning them.

  Glancing at the clock, Sigrid was startled to find it was nearly one-thirty, and she hadn’t fixed anything for lunch. During harvest time, Erik usually made his way to her house for the noon meal. Since she was already spending most of her time in the kitchen canning, making lunch for the both of them made sense. What didn’t make sense was sending Erik back to his own place or even into town for a bite to eat. But now, she’d let it slip her mind completely and she feared he would show up starving, and she’d not have a single morsel prepared.

  Staring at the cupboards trying to decide what would be quickest, Sigrid finally decided egg gravy would be the best solution. Her mother said there was always a meal to be had in egg gravy and rye bread. Sigrid hoped it would be filling enough to meet with Erik’s hearty appetite. She fried up a panful of bacon to go along with it, then used the drippings for the base of her gravy. She had just finished adding the final ingredients when she heard a knock on the back door.

  “Come on in, lunch is nearly ready,” she called and hurried to slice tomatoes and rye bread.

  “Well, I didn’t know you were fixing lunch for me,” Sven said, lumbering into the kitchen.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise. “I figured you’d be cutting broomcorn.”

  “Ja, we’ve been hard to work on it, but something else came up.” Her brother’s expression appeared a cross between anxious and hesitant. “So what is it that brings you here?”

  “I want to talk to you about our agreement.”

  “You mean regarding the property?” she asked, turning back to give the gravy a quick stir before removing it from the stove.