“Another chance?”
“To convince her that I love her.” Joshua swung his arm around. “I’m building this house for her, for us. Doesn’t that say that I love her?” He stared up at the darkening sky. “And I thought she loved me, but . . .” He shrugged.
“Let me get this straight. You are saying that if she truly loved you, she would have stayed here in Blessing rather than obeying the call to help keep other people alive?”
“That sounds terrible. If only it hadn’t been Indians.”
“You want the Indians to die, then?”
“Well, no. What kind of man do you think I am?”
“I think you are a man who is carrying on a family tradition of hate, and God is calling you to let it go, to bury the hatred, to forgive those who have wronged your family so that God in His infinite mercy can forgive you and guide your life.”
Joshua stood, head bowed, shoulders curved around his heart. “I thought I did.”
“But God peeled back more layers and is showing you that you truly haven’t.”
A pause lengthened. “Do you ever think that God asks too much?”
“That seems to be a fairly universal cry of mankind.” Solberg brushed a pesky mosquito away from his face. “That’s also why He sent His son to live and die here on this earth so that we can live in His grace.”
“So you are saying that if I don’t forgive, I will not be forgiven?”
“What does the Lord’s Prayer say?”
Joshua mentally ran the prayer through his mind. “To forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
“As is a mighty big word.”
“But what if I do as you say, and she still won’t have me?”
“Then maybe God is showing you that Astrid is not the woman He has in mind for you.”
“You believe He chooses who we will marry?” Joshua hoped he was keeping the shock off his face. Since when did God actually do the things Solberg talked about?
“If we let Him. He cares about every aspect of your life, everything that you care about. He says, ‘Trust me.’ ” The words lifted on the evening breeze.
Joshua stared at the line of light on the western horizon. “Sometimes I wish I had never come back here.”
“I know that I, for one, am certainly glad that you did. I know many others who feel the same way. You have become part of the town of Blessing, and we care deeply for those who live here.”
“So what do I have to do?”
“Remember the verse from First John? ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ ”
“I just say I’m sorry, and it will be all better. Only I did, and it isn’t all better. The anger came back worse than ever.”
“Satan delights in nothing more than catching Christians in their old habits and fighting to keep them there. Sometimes when we try to follow God’s instructions, that riles the old devil up, and he attacks with all he is worth. Remember, he attacked Jesus too. Three times.”
“Would that this were only three times.”
“Well, Jesus kept in close contact with His father, so He got through the lessons more quickly than we do.”
Guilt added to the affront. He’d not been living up to his word to read the Bible daily and pray, not only daily but whenever the need arose. When had he last said thank you for good things that had happened? Like getting a big discount on his house kit or Pastor Solberg returning home safely and showing up to help with the house. Joshua shook his head. “I just can’t manage to do it all.”
“None of us can. That’s what grace is all about. God’s free grace and mercy. Joshua, God loves you, right now, just the way you are. You can’t be good enough so that He will love you more.”
“But what if Astrid – ”
“Can you trust God to take care of that too?”
“I don’t know.”
“Now, that is indeed an honest answer. Choosing to trust God is not a one-time thing, but an over and over thing. Just like love is a choice, not necessarily a feeling.”
I can’t do it. The words echoed and re-echoed through his mind.
I can’t forgive. I can’t love enough. I can’t trust God for everything.
“You can only do this through the grace of God, one tiny step at a time.” Solberg stood silent. A nighthawk called out on its forage for flying insects. The buzz of a determined mosquito sounded loud in the silence.
“You always say the beginning is with the Word.” Joshua blew out a breath and tipped his head back to stare up at the stars, pinning the heavens in place. “Thank you.” I guess.
“Anytime you need to continue this discussion, just let me know. And in the meantime, God’s grace is sufficient for anything. Amen.
Enough of my sermon. Johnny said he is really missing his guitar lessons and playing with you. You’ve taught him a lot.”
“He is so anxious to learn that he makes a great student. I’ve missed him too.” He extended his hand. “Thank you, sir.”
Pastor Solberg took the hand and shook it, using his other hand to bind the two together. “You and Gould were great this morning. The congregation sings so much better than it did before we had strong musicians.”
“Everyone is so glad you are home.”
“And I am glad to be here. ’Night.” The two men parted ways, and Joshua heaved another sigh. “Just let go” seemed to be the song of the cottonwood trees. “Just let go” fluttered on the curtains, whispered in the sheets when he crawled into bed.
Even the birds sang it with their morning arias. “How?” he wanted to scream at them all. Instead, he shaved and dressed and was the first one to arrive in the dining room. He could hear Mrs. Sam’s laughter from the kitchen.
“Let go of that, boy.” Her admonishment to her son stabbed right in Joshua’s heart. She could be saying it to Joshua himself.
“Good morning, Mr. Landsverk.” Miss Christopherson wore a bright smile. “I’ll have your breakfast out shortly. You want to start with a cinnamon roll? I’m sorry they aren’t fresh today. They were baked yesterday. I’ll warm it for you.”
“That would be just fine. I need to leave early this morning, so could you please fix my dinner pail right away too?”
“Right away.” She paused. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes. Just a lot to think about.”
“All the responsibility of your job would cause me to lose sleep too.”
“Right.” If only it was the job and not my life that’s hanging in the balance.
Let go. That’s all he had to do. Let go.
He set the men to building forms for the next pour, an addition to the rear of the last one and half as large. By the time they finished this, they would be ready to strip off the former and begin framing the walls. When the new men came . . . That was another of his concerns – how to handle a crew that didn’t all speak the same language. How would he know what they could do? Toby would be having the same problem over at the hospital. Life used to be so much easier. Digging wells and erecting windmills. A couple of days and the job was done, and they were on to the next. Almost like Gypsies.
He heard the westbound train whistle off in the distance. Now, that would be an idea – gather up his tools and get on that train. But, as Pastor Solberg reminded him, running hadn’t solved his problems before. He’d sold his land and gone home, only to return to Blessing, mostly because of his memories of a certain yellow-haired girl. And now he might have lost her.
“Joshua, there’s a man here to see you about a job,” Mr. Geddick called to the front of the building.
“All right.” He strode around the corner of the original building, hearing a familiar whistle. “Aaron, is that really you?”
His brother turned and raised his hand. “Guess it is. You said come, and I came as soon as I could.” The two met and started to shake hands, but Joshua grabbed his baby brother in a back-thumping bear hug.
“Doing well. I think Frank wanted to come too, but he can’t seem to leave that poor piece of dirt. I’m glad to be away, just like I know you are.” He looked down the main street. “Looks to be a thriving place.”
“Blessing is that. Come along, and I’ll introduce you to the big bosses, finer men you couldn’t find anywhere. We got some other men coming in on the train from New York – immigrants. Good thing you worked on a building crew for a while. You’ll like it here.” He named all the buildings as they strode the block to the newspaper office, now also the main construction office. Pushing open the door, he stepped inside.
“I got us a new man come to work here,” Joshua said as he stepped to the side and indicated the man behind him. “My younger brother, Aaron, ready, willing, and able to work.”
“Glad to meet you, Aaron. I am Thorliff Bjorklund, and you are hired on your brother’s recommendation. When do you want to start?”
“Now is fine with me. Don’t have any other plans for right now.”
Thorliff turned to Joshua. “I take it you’d like him on your crew?”
“If that is all right.”
“Suits me. If you need to buy any tools, you can get them at Blessing Mercantile. Penny will expect payment on payday. We pay the first and third Fridays. Each of our foremen keeps track of his crew’s hours. Do you have a place to stay?” While Aaron shook his head, Joshua nodded his.
“He’ll room with me until my house is roofed in. Then we’ll sleep there. Still take our meals at the boardinghouse.” Joshua nodded to Thorliff. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for finding us some more hands. Any more brothers we can entice to Blessing?”
“I wish. I’ve been working on my brother-in-law, though. Since our dad died, I think my sister needs some new faces in her life. Her husband is a good worker. We’ll see.”
He ushered his brother out the door. “Well, how about that?”
“Good. Pay’s more than once a month too.”
“And Pa isn’t here to claim half your paycheck.”
“That’s for true. I always figured that was one reason you moved on.”
Joshua nodded, the remembrance of his father huddled in his chair blocking out the earlier memories. “Do you have a trunk or anything at the station?”
“Nope. Just my bag of tools and a carpetbag of clothes. And my banjo, of course.”
“Good. You’ll find a fine bunch of musicians here. We play for church every Sunday morning.”
“A banjo in church?”
“We don’t have an organ, so we make do with what we have. We play for dances and parties too.” He pointed to where his toolbox stood against a wall. “Put your stuff over there.” He chuckled when his brother flinched at a whistle blowing. “That’s the noon whistle. You can share my dinner pail, and then I’ll show you what to do.”
The day seemed to glow with a bright sheen after that. He paired Aaron with Mr. Geddick and set Jonathan to measuring and sawing. By the time the evening whistle blew, he’d nearly forgotten his discussion with Pastor Solberg. Until he showed Aaron the cellar for his house and after supper the plans for the kit he’d ordered.
“I own the land free and clear but will still have some to pay on the house.”
“Are you buying that house on credit? You know what Pa always said.”
“I know. I thought long and hard on it, but I have a good job, and I’ll have it paid off in six months. Other than my rent at the boardinghouse, all my money goes into that house.” He almost said he was building it so he could marry Astrid but cut himself off before having to think on that Letting go idea again. Maybe tonight he’d sleep decently. He needed all the energy he could find to keep up with all the changes.
11
“Mother, there is no reason for you to get up so early to have breakfast with me.” Daniel Jeffers met his mother coming out of her room at the boardinghouse.
“But I have always made your breakfast, and at least I can pretend, can’t I?”
Daniel shook his head and held out his bent arm to escort her to the dining room. “After breakfast, what do you have planned for today?”
“I have been invited to a tea being held in my honor. Mrs. Wiste says this is the best way for me to meet some of the women of the town. During the winter they meet monthly for quilting but take a hiatus in the summer, thus the tea.”
Daniel tucked a smile behind his mustache. Now she sounded more like the woman he’d known all his life, rather than the ghost who’d inhabited that body since his father disappeared. “I’m glad to hear that. Where is the tea to be held?”
“At Mrs. Wiste’s house. Two o’clock this afternoon. She said someone would come to walk me over there. Isn’t that dear of her?”
“Yes, it is. It is indeed.” He patted his mother’s hand on his arm. “I know that Mrs. Knutson is interested in starting a lending library here in town. I thought that might be of interest to you too. You will surely meet her there today.” And getting you out of this boardinghouse is the best thing imaginable.
“How many years did I serve on the library board at home, I wonder?”
“Sometimes I thought you lived there or at the church. I hope Mrs. Bjorklund is feeling well enough to attend.”
“What happened?”
“She collapsed after a run across a field to save her little granddaughter, who was choking. Mrs. Bjorklund was the first this town had in the way of medical help. Someone told me she is a naturalborn healer, but I’ve also heard that she gives God all the glory for helping His people.”
“There is only one church in this town, isn’t there?”
“One very dynamic church.” He pulled out her chair at the table. Glancing around the room, he realized it must be later than he thought. He knew Joshua Landsverk would already be on the job, and if the man’s brother was anywhere near the kind of worker Joshua was, they had a real team with the Landsverk men. How he wished his father were there to see the enthusiasm the people of Blessing had for the product he had dreamed up. Knowing the inventiveness his father had possessed, he was sure there were other things he’d created but had just not quite perfected. He’d have to bring out all the drawings and diagrams and papers of half-done ideas the next time he went home.
“Miss Christopherson asked what you wanted for breakfast.”
“Oh, sorry. Sometimes my mind just runs away from me or with me, as the case may be.”
“His father, God rest his soul, used to do that all the time. Why, he’d be talking, then go silent, then jump up and run to his workshop before he lost the idea.”
Daniel smiled up at the young woman. “Whatever Mrs. Sam has made for breakfast is fine with me.”
“I saved you some ham steak.”
“You are such a jewel, Miss Christopherson. Two eggs over easy and toast, then?”
“Would you rather have biscuits?”
“Fine. I know Mother raves about the biscuits here.”
“One day, when I have a house again, I’d like that biscuit recipe,” his mother said. “They would float off the plate if one didn’t grab them quickly.”
“I’ll tell Mrs. Sam. We have fresh raspberries – with cream and sugar?”
“Oh yes, please. At home I would have been out early picking ours. Surely we can bring some starts here.” She glanced at her son, who nodded. “Do you think Mrs. Sam would be offended if I went out in the garden and picked some of the berries?”
“Not at all. I’ll be right back.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair. How happy his father would be to see his wife coming back to life. He swallowed hard. What would people think to see a man crying in the dining room over raspberries? Some days he missed his father so much it was like a brick of lead sitting on his heart. This seemed to be one of those days.
His
mother took her napkin from the ring and laid the white square in her lap. “So what are your plans for the day?”
The same thing she’d asked his father every morning. Daniel leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table, then removed them at the slight frown that drew her eyebrows together. “I’ll be in the office all day today. We definitely need more office space, but that will have to wait until we have more carpenters. Which may be soon. I don’t think I told you that Mr. Gould from New York has located some immigrant builders for us to use on the project. They are on the train heading here as we speak.”
“Where will they live?”
“Here at the boardinghouse until we figure something else out. We could set up tents for them to use until the fall, if need be. Our biggest concern is the language barrier. I do hope some of them have learned at least rudimentary English.”
“I used to teach English to immigrants. Do you remember?”
Daniel stared at his mother and then smiled at Miss Christopherson as she set their raspberries before them. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll bring the rest of your meal when it is ready.” The woman smiled and turned back toward the kitchen.
He returned to his mother. “I was much younger then. But now that you mention it, you taught a group at the church. Do you remember what you used for supplies?”
“A blackboard, paper and pencils, or slates if need be, and McGuffey’s First Reader.” Her answer came so quickly that he wondered if she’d been pondering what she would do there as well.
“What languages did the people speak?”
“Makes no difference. I spoke and wrote English, and they learned. Quickly too, I might add.” She folded her hands and bowed her head. “Would you like to say the grace this morning?”
Daniel did and dug into the brilliant red berries floating in rich cream. “Oh my, I had forgotten how good fresh raspberries taste.”
As they finished their breakfast, he asked, “Do you mind if I suggest to Thorliff that you would be willing to teach an English class to the new workers? Maybe two or three nights a week?”
“Not at all. Perhaps I can borrow supplies from the school here.”
A Heart for Home Page 10