[Home To Blessing 01] - A Measure of Mercy

by Lauraine Snelling

  “You think you could still hit any?”

  “Thorliff Bjorklund, any time you want a shooting contest with your mother, she is more than game. In fact”—Ingeborg narrowed her eyes—“you can have tonight, but day after tomorrow I challenge you to a goose hunt, winner take all.”

  Thorliff backed off, hands raised as in defense. “I didn’t mean anything by it, just teasing.”

  “Well, this will teach you to tease your mother.” Hands on hips, she stared at him through half-slitted eyes.

  “Just you and me?”

  “So far. But when I win, you have to write an apology in your paper about making fun of your mother.”

  “Oh, my word, what have I gotten myself into?” Thorliff tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling. When he looked at his mother again, he wore a crafty grin. “And when I win, what kind of boon can I demand? A written apology? A new sweater? Two loaves of bread a week?” He twisted his mouth from one side to the other, stroking his chin like a diabolical villain. “I have to think on this, really think on this.”

  He was getting far too much pleasure out of this. What had she started? “From dawn to noon, those are the parameters. We will have dinner here at noon.”

  Thorliff nodded. “Agreed.”

  He sounded so nonchalant, but the look in his eyes said something was brewing.

  * * *

  “ARE YOU REALLY going through with this?” Haakan asked the night before the contest.

  “Of course. I just wonder what that son of ours has up his sleeve.” She turned to her husband. “You know, don’t you?”

  Guilt couldn’t hide on Haakan’s face.

  “Men. All in cahoots.”

  “My, my. Such language.”

  “Haakan Bjorklund, you are . . . you are despicable.” She had to look away so he couldn’t see the glint that she was sure must be in her own eyes.

  * * *

  INGEBORD WAS DRESSED and out on the most northern of the wheat fields, where she had seen a flock of Canada geese the day before. Carrying two shotguns and hiding behind a row of low brush, she could hear them before she saw them in the dimness. When it was light enough to shoot she picked off two on the ground and two in flight. Four—not bad for five shots, but now to wait for them to come back, or where else should she go looking? Down on the riverbanks?

  “Well done.” She turned to see Haakan hunkered down not far from her.

  “Takk.” She fetched her geese, tying their legs together with leather thongs she’d stuffed into her pockets. “Would have been easier out here in britches.”

  Haakan took them from her and slung them over his shoulder. “Are you done?”

  “No. I’ll try the riverbanks.” They turned at the sound of gunshots. “Thorliff?”

  “No doubt. We warned all the others to not hunt this morning.”

  Ingeborg rolled her eyes. “What all goes on behind my back is what I want to know.” She reloaded her guns and started toward the river. A flock of geese in V formation highlighted against the dawn sky caught her attention. She shaded her eyes to look. “Snow geese. Have you seen any flocks on the ground around here?”

  He shook his head. “Only the Canada.”

  “Remember when the sky was almost black with migrating birds both spring and fall?”

  “And the deer herds were so plentiful we didn’t have to raise beef. I know. Times are changing.”

  “You’re not milking this morning?” She inhaled a deep breath of crisp air. “I’m glad you are here. We don’t take time to do things like this together, even just to walking out and seeing our world in the early morning or evening.” They’d crossed the fields and neared the river, where thickets of Juneberries and willow provided cover for rabbits and grouse and other wildlife. She stopped at a deer trail. “Look, they bedded here last night.”

  “You’re not hunting deer.” He stretched his shoulders. “We’ll watch for them.” He kept his voice low, as did she.

  Ingeborg stopped to listen, as she’d done several times. Surely that was geese off to the left. She turned to look back over the fields in case some had returned to their grazing. Not that she could see. They made their way along the deer trail, closer to the river. A flapping of wings, honking, and three geese thrashed over the river surface and settled to swim farther out. Without a dog or a boat, shooting them would be a waste.

  Through a gap in the trees, she looked across the river to see a flock of geese grazing on the field on the Minnesota side. Too far to shoot or retrieve. Ingeborg sighed. She could wait until later and hope some had settled down or call this good. After all, she had until noon. But the hem of her skirt was heavy with water due to the dew, her stomach rumbled at the thought of breakfast, and she’d forgotten how heavy a shotgun could get with the carrying. Or perhaps she was just getting older, like she’d reminded Haakan more than once.

  “Are you ready to head back to the house?”

  “Any time you are. A cup of coffee sounds mighty appealing.”

  “You think I’ll win with four?”

  “No idea.” He took one of the guns from her.

  “Should have set the deadline for ten.”

  His chuckle warmed her from the inside out.

  Thorliff showed up at eleven thirty, three geese in hand.

  Ingeborg pointed to her four, already plucked, cleaned, and ready for the smokehouse.

  Thorliff stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Mor. I knew I should have gone back out.”

  “I get the down from your birds?”

  “Why not.”

  “And an apology?”

  “Painfully so.”

  “Good. Let’s go eat. If we’d planned this right, we could have had goose livers for dinner. But then, we don’t really have enough for everyone.” She looked at their family gathered around. “We found a place where the deer slept. Maybe we can have fresh venison one of these days.”

  Inga and Emmy looked up at her with bright eyes. “We missed you,” Inga said. “Emmy and I got goose feathers. Can we eat on the porch?”

  “Pretty chilly out there. How about we use the table instead? You can go out to play afterwards.”

  Elizabeth gave Ingeborg a hug and whispered in her ear, “I’m so glad you won. He would have been insufferable.”

  Lord, I pray that Astrid is having good memory times. I miss her so, even more so when we are all together. She felt like a cloud had dimmed the sunshine. Please don’t send her to Africa.

  28

  Smoked goose for Thanksgiving had been something new. Joshua buckled his tool belt around his hips and joined the others laying hardwood floors in Hjelmer’s house. Hjelmer had promised Penny she would be in her own house for Christmas, and he was pushing hard to make his promise come true.

  “Have you ever done stairs before?” Hjelmer asked.

  Joshua shook his head. “That takes some special figuring, and I don’t know how to do it.”

  “Me neither. Good thing Toby has done them before. You plan on working with him so that we have more than one man who can do that fine work.”

  I’d rather be building windmills. Joshua nodded his assent. Any job was better than no job, but he had to admit he was enjoying working with these men and learning new skills. If someone had told him he’d become a carpenter, he’d have thought they were running a couple eggs short of a dozen. Wouldn’t his father be surprised when he told him, if he told him.

  “Hey, Joshua, I’m ready to start. I’ll draw us the diagram.” Toby took the pencil from behind his ear.

  Joshua shoved his hammer down into the loop on his belt and joined Toby at the table made by boards across two sawhorses. A picture of the stair design lay on the table. It had come from Sears and Roebuck along with all the other plans, which were held down by two bricks.

  “See, we have a quarter turn at the landing, and the company sent us stair horses already cut to make it easier.”

  A stair horse? What in the world?

 
; “See that notched two-by-twelve? There are six of them for this stairs, and we had the same for the back stairs. See, they even cut the angles for the ends. We’ll cut the risers and the treads and nail them in place. You want to cut or nail?”

  “Nail to start with.”

  “Good, let’s nail this side onto the wall first.”

  Nail by nail and board by board, they raised the stairs to the landing in time for dinner, then to the second floor by quitting time, taking turns cutting and nailing. Joshua cut one board half an inch too short.

  “You measure once, look at it, measure again. Never hurts to take time to measure even a third time. I learned that lesson same as you. We’ll find another use for that board. It won’t go to waste.”

  Joshua nodded. His father would have yelled at him for making such a stupid mistake. But he didn’t need his father to do that, he did a right good job of it himself.

  Penny pushed open the front door just as they were putting their tools away. She and Hjelmer strolled through the house so she could see all that had been accomplished. Stopping at the stairs, she grinned at Toby and Joshua. “Now, doesn’t that look lovely. Once we get the rails and banisters up we can move right in.”

  “There’s a lot to do before we move, so don’t get your hopes up too high,” Hjelmer cautioned.

  “The more I keep saying it, the more certain it will happen. The Bible says to speak things into existence, like God did when creating the world. He said, ‘Let there be light.’ I’m saying, ‘Let there be stairs, and lights and floors and . . .’ ” She spun and headed for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “ ‘And cupboards and shelves and . . .’ Oh, look at the pantry.”

  Hjelmer shrugged. “Women.” He turned to Joshua. “You playing for church tomorrow?”

  Joshua nodded. “Trygve and Miss Deborah are singing a duet. We’ll practice again tonight.”

  “Every year we have more musicians. Those first years were tough. Lars played his fiddle sometimes, and when the congregation sang harmony, it gave me the shivers.”

  Joshua stared at Hjelmer. The man continued to surprise him.

  * * *

  THE PRACTICE WENT well that evening, and after bidding Trygve and Deborah good night, Joshua walked back to the boardinghouse, thinking how more and more he felt a part of the people of Blessing. If only Astrid were here. He detoured by his hole in the ground, as he called it. For a while there had been too much snow to pour the concrete, then when that melted, it turned too cold. He’d pretty much given up his dream of working on his own house this winter. At least the basement was all dug out, and once it dried in the spring, they could get going on it. The big question: Would Astrid like the house? The even bigger question: Could Astrid fall in love with him as he had with her? If only he had a few more letters to reread. He’d about worn out the three that he had.

  * * *

  INGEBORG GAZED DOWN down at the little girl looking lost in Astrid’s big bed. Emmy had been with them nearly a month, and she had yet to utter a word. Was she homesick for the tribe or for her family? What was her story? Strange that no one had come looking for her, or even to check to see if she was alive or dead. What if no one cared?

  Well, somebody cares for this little one. We do. If you are God’s answer to all my prayers through the years for another child, so be it. Father God, we will love her as long as you allow us to have her. She thought about that for a moment. Nobody better try to take her away.

  Hands bracing on the narrow stair walls, she returned to the parlor, where Freda sat in the rocker, her knitting needles singing their simple song. Haakan held a piece of harness to the light and marked where he would hammer the awl so he could have a hole to slide the buckle in place. Fixing harnesses was indeed good winter work. Often the house smelled of horse-sweated leather. Ingeborg sat down on the kitchen chair she had pulled up to a small table covered in tanned rabbit skins. While she had knit Inga several pairs of mittens, there was nothing warmer and cozier than rabbit-fur mittens. Haakan had cut narrow strips of deer hide for her to use for sewing mittens. As Metiz had taught her, she punched the holes with a small awl and whipstitched the two pieces together. She had a smaller pair cut out for Carl.

  “What are you knitting now?” she asked Freda.

  Freda held up the rich blue yarn she’d purchased at Penny’s store. “A jumper for Signe. She is growing so fast that the clothes we brought from Norway are getting too small. I have a sweater for Thor. I think his arms have grown three inches since we got here.”

  “And his legs. I have an old wool coat that we can take apart and use the material for pants for him. I must have a pattern his size in the pattern box.” Through the years Ingeborg had saved the patterns she’d made for all the clothing she’d sewn, carefully labeling them with the age of the child they were for. Many of them were cut out of newspapers, and sometimes now Thorliff gave her the plain newsprint paper left over from printing the paper.

  * * *

  SNOW STARTED FALLING during church the next morning—big, fat lazy flakes that zigged and zagged so that when Inga came out the door she squealed in delight. “Snowing. It is snowing.” She turned to Emmy. “Let’s catch them.”

  Emmy stared at her, but when Inga held out her mittened hand until one landed on it, Emmy did the same. The two studied the snowflakes, then Inga touched it with her tongue and held out her hand.

  Emmy did the same, and the two darted down the steps to catch more. Carl followed them until he tripped over a rut and fell plunk down on his seat. He grunted, shook his head, and using both hands, got back up.

  “I hope he doesn’t spend the rest of his life trying to catch up with her,” Ellie said.

  “Oh, he won’t. One day he’ll jump farther and swing higher, and either the two will be equals, or she’ll be chasing him.” Ingeborg held out her arms, and May reached for her grandma. Jiggling the little one on her hip, she watched as all the young children were catching snowflakes, touching them and laughing. “Isn’t it amazing what can entertain children?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about children,” Thorliff said, holding up his gloved hand and showing her his nest of snowflakes. “I remember your telling me that each one is different, but they’d always melt before I could be sure.”

  “Sometimes life is like that, isn’t it? Beautiful, but if you try to study it, the moment is gone.” Ingeborg touched her nose to May’s to make her giggle. “Like these little ones. They grow so fast, and then they are gone.”

  “Ja. Like Grace and Astrid.” Kaaren tipped her head back and caught a snowflake on her tongue. “But at least they are coming back.”

  “Please, God, I pray so.” Ingeborg looked up when Haakan called her name. “The drivers are getting impatient.” Calling the children, the families made their way to the buggies and climbed in. “Just think, pretty soon we’ll be tucking the buffalo robe around our legs and heating bricks to set at our feet. While I so look forward to Christmas, I am in no hurry for winter to really get here.”

  “I think it is here. The reprieve is over.” Haakan clucked the horse into a trot.

  “I suppose.” Ingeborg wrapped her arm around the little girl and drew her closer to her side.

  “Tomorrow I think I’ll put the bells on the harnesses, and if this keeps up, we’ll clean up the sleigh so we have it ready to go. Lars is getting the sledge ready for the schoolchildren. He’s thinking of putting a heater in there this year.” Two years earlier Lars had built an enclosed box to fit on the wagon bed, where they had replaced the four wheels with four skids. The box had a window cut out for the driver to see and drive the team. A door opened and closed, and benches lined the inside walls. From the outside it looked similar to a house on wheels but without a sloped roof and windows. Samuel now drove all the children from the deaf school to the Blessing school so they could receive a good education.

  Ingeborg glanced over her shoulder to see why Freda was so quiet. “Are you all right?”

  �
��Ja. Thinking of Christmas just makes me homesick for Norway and our life there.”

  Ingeborg nodded.

  “But I’ll get over it. I think Solem is doing better. Haakan, has he talked to you about going farther west to homestead?”

  “He mentioned it. But the land out there is not as rich as here in the Red River Valley. I know Trygve talks about doing that too. They’ve changed some of the rules for proving up a homestead. Now it is three years instead of five, and if you can afford to buy out your contract earlier, you are allowed to do that. I think you can buy someone else’s homestead not proved up yet, but they’d need to check on all the legalities.”

  “Would you go too?” Ingeborg asked Freda, concern inching higher as the pause lengthened.

  “No, I don’t think so. I like it here, and I like what I am doing. I would like a house of my own, is all.”

  Ingeborg sighed in relief. “Thank you. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that.” She looked to her husband. “Perhaps next spring we can see about building you a house.”

  “It needn’t be big, not for one person.”

  “You are always welcome at our house. I hope you know that.”

  “Oh, I do. And I don’t want it far away from the cheese house.”

  Haakan halted the team at the gate. By now the grass wore white frosting, and the snow was settling on roofs and roads. After dropping off women and children, Andrew and Thorliff drove the buggies to the barn and unhitched their teams to get the horses into shelter instead of waiting in the weather. Solem and Anna and their children rode with Andrew, and Gilbert came with Thorliff.

  As they all gathered in the kitchen to remove coats and hats, the children headed into the parlor, where the toy box waited, the women began setting out the food, and the men, when they returned from the barn, gathered around the stove in the parlor.