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by Lauraine Snelling


  When she finished the cookie and the cup was only half full, she picked up the dress, along with the threaded needle, and blindstitched the hem. The cat leaped lightly to the wide board that formed the ledge on the porch railing and prowled after the birds, the tip of her tail twitching as she melted into a crouch.

  Ingeborg watched the cat between thrusts of the needle. “You better not let Inga see you hunting so close to the house.”

  “So, Mor, who are you talking to now?” Thorliff pushed open the gate and strolled up the walk.

  “The cat.”

  “I see. Did Mr. and Mrs. Baxter arrive?”

  “Yes. They are sitting with their son, so I came out here. You want some coffee or lemonade?”

  “You sit still. I’ll get it,” Thorliff said when she started to get up.

  For a change, Ingeborg settled back. She started to scold herself for being lazy but instead shrugged and chose to enjoy the moment of ease.

  Thelma met him at the door with a duplicate tray of the one she’d brought Ingeborg. “You make sure your mother sits awhile longer.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “Be that as it may. I wasn’t working that surgery like they were and taking care of the young man.” She raised her voice. “I took more ice chips in. Taking care of her son gives his mother something to do with her hands.”

  “Mange takk, Thelma. You are so wise. What would we do without you?”

  A snort echoed the closing of the screen door.

  Thorliff sat down in the other rocker. “Well, the paper is ready to send out. Samuel is taking it around town.” He laid a copy on the table. “I brought you yours.”

  Ingeborg picked up the latest edition, smiling all the while. “Haakan will be happy to get this. He always looks forward to your paper arriving.”

  “He used to get the Grand Forks paper too. Doesn’t he any longer?”

  “He let his subscription lapse after the apoplexy. I should probably start it again.”

  “My interview with Keith, who runs the coal mine, is on the front page. I’m thinking Far might be interested in that. Perhaps we might want to invest in that venture, since it looks like a real boon to North Dakota.” He shot his mother a questioning glance. “Not that we’ve recovered all the way from the hoof and mouth yet, but our bank has some money to invest.”

  “I know you’d rather buy more cows, but you and Far talk it over.” Thorliff drained the glass of lemonade. “I’ll go get Inga in a bit.”

  “Why not let her stay awhile with Andrew and Ellie? She and Carl always have a great time. After all, cousins need time to play together too.”

  “I’m not sure Ellie would agree with you. I think Inga gets Carl into all kinds of trouble.”

  “Like making mud pies in the rain barrel?”

  “And putting a chair up so they could climb into the apple tree.” Thorliff shook his head. “Andrew thought it was funny, but Ellie was sure they were going to fall and break their necks.”

  “Dressing the runt pig in baby clothes they took off the clothesline . . .” Ingeborg grinned at her son and shook her head. “She reminds me of Astrid when she was little.”

  “Astrid didn’t get into everything like Inga does.”

  “We were all working so hard we hadn’t time to watch her closely. So perhaps we didn’t see some of the things she did. Besides, she had the twins to play with, and she and Sophie spent a lot of time being careful to watch out for Grace. Sophie was the one who thought up the antics.”

  “And she still does. Wait until you hear her plans for the Fourth of July celebration.”

  They heard a buggy pull sharply to a stop on the other side of the house. Someone else was in trouble. Andrew’s voice brought her to her feet. “Mor, come help.”

  3

  What happened?” Astrid met them all at the door of the surgery after hearing Andrew’s voice.

  “I think his arm is broken.” Andrew held his son in his arms. “He fell off the ladder going up to the haymow.”

  Astrid touched the little boy’s shoulder and arm that were held tight against his body by a tied-in-place flour sack dish towel. “The haymow?”

  “I told them to stay out of the barn.”

  “Kitties.” The word was barely discernable between sobs. Her nephew’s round pale face tore at her heart.

  “Come this way, and we’ll see what to do.” Astrid ushered them toward the small examining room. “What kitties, Carl?”

  “There are kittens in the haymow.” Andrew’s voice deepened. “We found them back in a corner when we were cleaning out the last of the old hay to get ready for the barn dance Saturday night.”

  “And Inga wanted to see them and dragged Carl along?” Grandma Ingeborg pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “That’s about it,” her younger son agreed.

  “Where was Maydell?” Maydell Gamble was visiting with Ellie again now that Dorothy was doing better. “I thought she was keeping an eye on Carl and Inga.”

  Andrew shrugged. “That seems to be a bit of a mystery.”

  “Lay him down there.” Astrid pointed at the table in the middle of the room. She thought back to her last conversation when Maydell admitted she’d mostly been helping Dorothy with her children because she was hoping to see more of Gus Baard, but as soon as she’d shown up, he kept away. Usually Maydell’s flightiness didn’t ruffle her, but at the moment she could think of several things she’d like to do to Maydell, none of them comfortable.

  When Andrew tried to lay his son down, Carl screamed and clung to his father with his unbound arm. Ingeborg leaned over his small body and stroked his face, humming one of his favorite songs.

  “All right, Andrew. You sit in that chair and hold him.” Astrid pointed to a ladder-back chair next to the wall. “Or do you want Mor to hold him?”

  Shaking his head, Andrew sat down, holding Carl on his left knee so the wounded arm could be examined.

  Astrid leaned over and whispered in Carl’s ear. “You are Tante Astrid’s big boy, aren’t you?”

  He nodded and tried to sniff back the tears, then buried his face in his father’s shoulder.

  “Carl, I need to find out what is wrong with your arm. I’m going to give you something to drink so you feel better.”

  Andrew stared at his sister, his face pale.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll make him sleepy, and then we can help him more easily.” She poured a bit of laudanum into a cup and added honey and water, then stirred it. “Here you go, Carl.” She held it to his mouth, and after giving her a dubious look, he took a sip then drank the rest. “Honey can do all kinds of good things. You three wait here while I go find Tante Elizabeth.”

  As soon as she stepped out of the room, her mind flew back to the young man down the hall. How was he? She peeked in the door to see his mother and father on either side of the bed, Vernon sound asleep. What a day this had been, and it was only midafternoon. Leaving that room, she knocked on the closed door of the large examining room, obeying the command to come in.

  “What do you think this is?” Dr. Elizabeth asked her immediately, pointing to two young girls who were covered in suppurating sores. The mother looked from Astrid to Elizabeth, then closed her mouth against what she’d started to say.

  Astrid studied them without touching their skin. “Looks like poison ivy to me.”

  “And what do you recommend?”

  “Baths in warm water with finely ground oatmeal, apply honey to the sores, leave the skin uncovered as much as possible so the air can dry the discharge.” She turned to the mother. “Do you have rolled oats or plain oats at home to run through the coffee grinder?” At her nod, she continued. “That will help the itching. If you have some comfrey, grind that and make a paste to apply.”

  “I told them to stay out of the woods, but they had to learn the hard way.”

  “Do you know what poison ivy looks like?” Astrid asked the two weepy girls.

  “We do now.�
� The two girls looked at each other then at Astrid. “It was so pretty we made chains out of it to wear in our hair.”

  “I see.” Astrid smiled at the mother. “Let us know how this goes. There are some other things we can try if need be. Soak all their clothes and bedding in hot soapy water. Anything they have touched wash with soapy water. They are highly contagious.”

  “Thank you, Doctors.” The mother nodded to both Elizabeth and Astrid and herded the girls ahead of her out of the room.

  Astrid had a strong feeling those two girls were in for more punishment than just how miserable they felt.

  “You passed that one with flying colors. I’ll get Thelma in here to scrub with carbolic acid. Let’s go wash ourselves. That was the worst case I have ever seen.”

  “Are they new to the area?”

  “Come from the Minnesota side like the Baxters. Good thing we have that bridge across the river now. The family moved here from someplace back East.” The two joined at the basin and scrubbed hands and arms, then took off their aprons. “Just in case,” Elizabeth added.

  Astrid told her about Carl while they tied clean aprons on and entered the examining room. Carl lay sound asleep on the table, Andrew and Ingeborg standing on either side of him.

  “Good, that is what I hoped would happen.” Astrid smiled at her brother. “Did you try to set it?”

  “No. That’s what we have doctors for nowadays.”

  “You can work with animals but not humans, is that it?” Astrid teased her brother.

  “That’s right. Especially not my son.”

  With gentle fingers Astrid probed the arm, which was already swollen and hot. The break was halfway between wrist and elbow. “You hold Carl, and we’ll do the traction.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I’ll take the wrist.”

  “Be ready for him to flail.”

  Andrew pressed against his son’s shoulders with both hands.

  “No, you lie across his body too. This is going to hurt.”

  Andrew gave her a funny look but did as she said.

  “On three.” Astrid gripped the boy’s elbow and upper arm to steady it when Elizabeth pulled. “One, two, three.” Elizabeth pulled, Carl let out a shriek, bucked, and nearly threw his father off. But the bone clicked back in place.

  “I’ll go get the ice.” Elizabeth left the room while Astrid took a flat piece of wood with rounded edges from a shelf and began wrapping it in soft cotton. She laid it next to the arm, wrapped it in place, and folded a square of cloth into a triangle for a sling. When Elizabeth returned with small chunks of ice, they wrapped the ice around the boy’s arm and tied the sling in place.

  Sitting in the chair and holding his still son, who was once again asleep, Andrew nodded. “You two work well together.”

  “Thank you. I sure hope this is the last one of the day. You should have seen the cases of poison ivy we just took care of. My word, what a mess.” Astrid studied her nephew, his long eyelashes feathering his round cheeks. “I’ll send some laudanum home with you. I think when he wakes up, we should just wrap his arm to his body like you did to bring him in. Best for a little one like him.”

  “How’s Vernon?”

  “You know him?”

  “I’d met him before. You think he’ll make it?”

  “I sure am praying so. All of us are.” She shuddered. “That was the most awful . . .” She blew out a breath. “Why don’t you take Mor home with you? She can take care of Carl. Both of them can use some rocking, and she can pray just as well there as here.”

  “I will. Tomorrow we are stringing more phone lines. I am now more convinced than ever how valuable that newfangled instrument is.”

  “That’s it for the day,” Elizabeth said as they watched Andrew carry his son back to the buggy and help Ingeborg settle the child in her lap.

  “Other than Vernon.” Astrid leaned against the wall. “Didn’t I hear his father leave a while ago?”

  “He had to go home to do chores.” Elizabeth sank into a chair. “My daughter did it this time.”

  “Probably won’t be the last.”

  “Poor little Carl. I should send Thorliff out to get her.”

  “No, let her help entertain Carl. She’ll learn more that way. After all, you know it wasn’t deliberate.”

  “Her disobeying Andrew like that was. He told her not to go to the barn.”

  “Maybe. Maybe he only told Carl, and he didn’t share the information.” Astrid thought to the times she’d been in trouble when younger. While she knew Inga deserved a punishment, she still wanted to protect her. As her far had said more than once, Inga could charm the birds out of the trees, let alone her little cousin, who did his best to keep up with her. Sometimes she forgot how young the two really were, the way Inga would interpret for Carl. She been talking since she was barely a year and a half. Her far said she was born talking.

  Dr. Elizabeth dug her fists into her lower back and the aching muscles. “This has been some day. How do you feel about all the cases you took care of today?”

  “Are you saying that you will still call this part of my final examination?”

  “Yes, and you did remarkably well.”

  “Even though I overreacted? I don’t think a doctor is supposed to fall apart.”

  “But that was afterward. And it was due to the adrenaline. Don’t be so critical of yourself. I will always feel more secure when you are standing with me in a crisis.”

  Astrid stared at her for a long moment. “Do you feel insecure at times?”

  “Of course.”

  “You mean that never goes away?”

  Elizabeth chuckled at the look of consternation on Astrid’s face. “Your mother would say that’s what forces us to depend on our heavenly Father, and that’s a good thing. Now, let’s think about the schedule tonight for Mr. Baxter. I want his mother to sleep too, so let’s go talk with her.”

  “Do you speak German?”

  “A bit.”

  When the two of them entered the sickroom, Mrs. Baxter started from a half doze.

  “Sprechen sie Englisch?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Ein bisschen.” The woman held her fingers close together to signal a bit.

  Over the next few minutes Astrid watched and listened as the two tried to communicate. The agreement came when Elizabeth convinced the woman that among the four of them, including Mr. Baxter if he was able to return, they could all take turns caring for her son and that eating and sleeping were necessary for her too. She brushed tears from her eyes and clutched Elizabeth’s hand.

  “Danke schön.”

  Even Astrid knew that meant thank you very much. “We could call on the Geddicks for translation if Mr. Baxter can’t be here,” she said as soon as the idea popped into her head.

  “That’s a great idea,” Elizabeth said with a nod. “They don’t have a telephone yet, do they?”

  Astrid shrugged. “I’ll call and ask Gerald in the morning.”

  * * *

  ALL WAS GOING according to plan during the night until Astrid came on duty at three o’clock. When Vernon shifted restlessly, she administered more morphine, but touching his skin made her heart sink. He was hot. Infection must be setting in. Much to the consternation of his father, who was watching over him at the time, she pulled back the covers and opened the window. “We have to cool him off.”

  “But he was shivering and cold, so I covered him.”

  “I know. That is the way of this. You start sponging his face and neck, and I’ll go soak a sheet in cold water.” When she came back the mister was doing as she’d said, but when she started to remove the sheet, he grabbed the edge.

  “Nein, this is not proper.”

  Astrid stared at him. What did proper matter at a time like this? “But I am a doctor.”

  “You are a young woman. I will change the sheets.” He took the wet bundle from her and waited.

  Astrid shook her head. “Before you put the sheets on him, lay a towel across hi
s, his . . .” She sought the best word so as to not offend. “Below his waist.” She gestured at the same time.

  “I will do that.” He waited for her to leave the room.

  “Who does he think worked on that young man’s body yesterday?” she muttered as she leaned against the hall wall.

  An outside door opened, and Pastor Solberg entered. “How is he?”

  “How do you always know when to come?”

  He shrugged. “I guess God tells me. But we all know these next hours are when life ebbs the lowest. Your mother and I have spent many of these dark hours of the morning praying and pleading for God to heal, to bring the patients through this time.” He paused. “Why are you in the hall?”

  “His father wouldn’t allow me to change the sheets, said it was not proper.”

  John Solberg stared at his feet, trying to hide his grin. “I have a feeling you will hear this often in the years ahead. Lovely young women—especially unmarried ones—are not easily perceived as doctors.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the compliment, but he is going to have to get used to my being here. Vernon, er Mr. Baxter, is running a fever.”

  “That was to be expected, considering what he’s been through. So now we do all we can and trust God to do the rest.”

  “I’ll go bring a tub of water here to make it easier.”

  “Let me do that. You go check on your patient.”

  Astrid nodded and knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  Mr. Baxter finished laying a wet towel across his son’s forehead.

  Astrid glanced up to see that the window was closed again. Surely this man knew better than to keep a sickroom closed up? But then, why should he? So many people still believed that fresh air brought in the vapors, that frequent bathing weakened the body. After all the old wives’ tales she had read in her medical studying, she was grateful that new studies had proven so many of them wrong.

  She crossed to open the window. “Please, the fresh air will help us cool him. And if he gets cold, which would be a blessing right now, we will close it and add covers.”

  The man sighed and nodded. “I s’pose you know best.”

 

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