Blessing in Disguise

by Lauraine Snelling

  “No hurry.” Morning Dove tried to hide her own smile.

  “Please pass the pork chops.”

  “Soon as Mrs. Moyer is on her feet, we got something for the two of you, kinda like a wedding present,” Jake mentioned as Morning Dove set the apple pie on the table. “Ooh-ee. Now, don’t that look mighty fine.” He reached for the pie plate only to get his knuckles smacked with the handle of her knife.

  “Thank you.” Kane took the plate with pie and set it in front of him. “I got a favor to ask. Any of you speak Norwegian?” At the shake of all their heads, he added, “German?” At the repeat, he sighed. “Sure would have made it easier.”

  “She don’t speak English?”

  Now it was Kane’s turn to shake his head. “Only the words I taught her on the ride out.”

  “Ah.”

  The knowing tone made Kane shake his head again. “Eat your pie.”

  Augusta could hear the men in the other room, but she didn’t want to bother them. They sounded as if they were having a good time. She turned her head and looked out the window. The sky wore a billowing blue dress, trimmed with clouds of lace. She eyed the chair where she’d sat for breakfast. Could she make it over there by herself? Looking out the window was preferable to staring at the ceiling any day.

  She scooted upright, using both arms to brace herself, and sighed when she was actually sitting. Hard to believe that sitting up took so much strength. She checked the foot of the bed, thinking there might have been weights under the covers holding her in place.

  “Silly.” Swinging her feet over the side and sitting with nothing behind her to prop her up ate up another large chunk of her energy. The chair looked about as far away as the barn she could now see through the window.

  A burst of laughter came again from the kitchen. They sure were having a good time. Was that the way it was around here all the time?

  “The chair. We are going for the chair.” Her throat felt as though she’d just gotten a face full of road dust. She hung on to the bedpost as she eased herself upright. The room stayed level at least, no swinging from side to side or around in a circle.

  She took two steps, then turned and grabbed for the bed. The chair would have to come tomorrow or when Morning Dove could help her. Sitting on the edge of the bed would have to do for now.

  “Ah, you’re awake.”

  The male voice behind her made her grab for the covers. The quick spin sent the room into a matching dance, and she flopped back against the pillow. My hair, my nightdress, my—oh, how embarrassing. She tucked her feet under the quilt and pulled the top up to her chin.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Morning Dove is bringing you some dinner, now that we know you are back in the land of the living.”

  His smile was enough to ignite a fire. If only she could understand him.

  Morning Dove entered with her tray again, and Augusta’s nose twitched, the food smelled so good. If only he would go away so she could be helped to the chair and eat. Instead, he sat on the end of the bed, crooking one knee up on the quilt.

  “Would you please leave so I can have my dinner?”

  He smiled at her and nodded.

  “I said, would you please leave so I can get out of this bed. Now go!” She pointed a finger at the door, then made a brushing motion.

  “Ah.” He stood. “Sorry. I forget my manners at times.” He turned to leave and stopped. “I forget that women are raised to be modest. Things will surely be different around here, eh, Morning Dove?”

  “Yes.” She set the tray on the dresser and came to stand beside Augusta. “Come now.”

  The trip wasn’t nearly as far as Augusta had feared. When she sat down in the chair, she no longer felt as if she were running off the end like syrup, and most of the food got inside of her before her hand started clinking the fork against the dish. She even managed to hold the cup of coffee long enough and often enough to drink it dry.

  But when Morning Dove returned from taking the tray to the kitchen, Augusta was more than ready to trek back to the bed. She slept clear through until dark.

  The next day Morning Dove brushed and braided her hair so that when Kane came in after dinner she didn’t feel like hiding her head under the covers.

  “Hello.” His smile hadn’t lost any of its power overnight.

  “Hello.” Since he said this every time he saw her, it must be a greeting.

  “Very good.”

  “Very good.” Only hers sounded more like “goot.”

  “No, you needn’t say that. I mean . . .”

  She stared at him, puzzlement branded on all her features.

  Father, give me wisdom. How do I do this? He pointed to her. “Augusta.” Then to himself and waited.

  “Kane Moyer.” Her precise pronunciation made him smile.

  “Very good.” He held up a hand to keep her from repeating that back to him. He pointed to the bed and named it. Each thing he pointed out, she repeated after him, and when he pointed again later in review, she had most of them. She’s not only beautiful but learns fast.

  When she pointed to the same things and said them in Norwegian, he stumbled over the words far more than she had the English. And when she pointed in review, he got only half.

  Augusta shook her head and named them again in Norwegian, then followed with the English.

  Kane only stumbled on one this time.

  “Very goot.”

  He smiled back at her. “Yes, very good.” Sure wish I could go to Gedicks’ tomorrow. We’ve got to have some help here. Looking into her eyes was like falling into a clear stream, and he had no desire to get out.

  Augusta held his gaze for a long moment, then looked away in confusion. When he looks at me like that, I want to melt like butter in the pan. What in the world is happening to me? Must be because I’m weak from so much sickness.

  But after he left the room, Augusta had to admit that this warm feeling had nothing to do with being sick and everything to do with being too close to a very appealing man. What would her mother say if she saw her daughter sitting in her nightdress on the same bed with a man she hardly knew? Or with any man for that matter?

  Chapter 18

  St. Paul

  September 9

  How many conductors did it take to run the trains anyway?

  Hjelmer figured he had talked to about all of them twice over. At least that’s what it felt like. And most of them had shaken their heads, sorry to admit they hadn’t seen his sister. Compared to talking with Dakota farmers about Farmers’ Alliance business, at least it wasn’t as hard to get the railroad men to talk.

  But none of them said the words he wanted to hear.

  “Hey, Hjelmer, how goes it?”

  “Henry! What are you doing here? Thought you were on the western route for good.” Hjelmer shook the man’s hand and grasped his upper arm with his other hand. “You have no idea how good it is to see a familiar face.”

  “I take it your questioning ain’t gone well.” Next to Hjelmer, Henry looked as if he were standing in a hole.

  “Everyone’s tried to be helpful, but the fact is, no one remembers seeing Augusta on the first of September, nor the second either. And they said they would remember a woman traveling alone like that and not speaking the language.” Hjelmer sighed. “I’m about out of time.”

  “Another meeting in Bismarck?”

  Hjelmer nodded. “Yes, and I got things to do for that too. How are things in Blessing?”

  “ ’Bout the same. Your mother is having a real hard time with this.”

  How would you know? Hjelmer knew his mother kept about as stoic a face as any good Norwegian. If she had told Henry how she felt, she must care for the man more than her son realized.

  “Come on. Let’s get a cup of coffee, and you can tell me all that you’ve done. Then when you have to leave, I can keep looking.”

  Sometime later, their coffee cups dry after the third refill, Henry nodded. “So we have three men that
aren’t back in St. Paul yet. There were two other trains waiting by the St. Paul and Pacific, one that would have gone to Grand Forks and points west, the other south.What I can do is wait to talk with them, and if that don’t help, then I can request the conductor job on either of those lines so’s I can ask people along the way. When you get back, you could take the other line as a passenger. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds like a lifesaver to me. I’ll catch the late train to Grand Forks. I’ve talked with all the conductors on the St. Paul and Pacific and all of them are sure they didn’t see her.” He slapped Henry on the shoulder. “And you can bet your suspenders that my mor will love you forever if you find her missing daughter.”

  Henry’s rosy cheeks turned slightly rosier. “Any way I can to find the shortest path into that woman’s heart.”

  Hjelmer paused and studied the older man. “Ah, are you courting my mor?”

  “Much as she’ll let me.”

  “Um, shouldn’t you be asking my permission, or some such?”

  “Hjelmer, you might be the remaining man in the family, but you aren’t her father.”

  “No, but there’s my older brother, Johann.”

  “You know what I mean.” Henry pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll be getting on with the asking. You got any other particulars you might tell me about Augusta? Ways that someone might recognize or remember her?”

  “Not that are mentionable, nor helpful either. I racked my brain, as I know Mor did, but nothing other than her height and her lack of English.”

  “And her Bjorklund blue eyes?”

  “Ja, that too. Good luck and God bless. If I haven’t heard from you, I will be back here in a week or ten days. How can I get ahold of you?”

  “Leave a message with the stationmaster. I’ll check with him.”

  On the trip home Hjelmer drew the papers he should have been studying out of his valise and read them thoroughly. Far as he was concerned, with the final drafting of the constitution, his job was finished. And since the constitution was to be ratified by a popular vote in October, he didn’t see any need to continue being involved in the politics of North Dakota. Besides, he’d promised Penny he would stay home more.

  He stared out the window into the dark night, ignoring his reflection and letting his mind wander. Why was Penny in such an all-fired hurry to have a baby? Surely God knew best, and if He didn’t see fit to send them children right now, that was fine with him. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have enough to do to keep her plenty busy. Between the church and the store and feeding train passengers and her sewing machine business, she was running faster than a spooked mare all the time anyway.

  He shook his head and went back to his reading. With the enactment of statehood, it looked as if there would be changes in the banking rules, along with just about everything else. He planned to bring that up at the meeting. First Bank of Blessing didn’t need a whole series of laws laid down by the eastern banking concerns. The people of Blessing had organized the bank for themselves, and so far they had managed not only to stay solvent but to earn interest for the savings depositors too. The money was mostly earned by investing in one another, like the loan for the boardinghouse, his machinery, and the Baards’ new barn.

  Even though he didn’t really think Augusta had come as far as Grand Forks, he questioned the stationmaster and the ticket men there, all to no avail. When he swung off the early-morning train in Blessing, he was no closer to finding his sister than when he’d left. But he knew lots about where she wasn’t and who hadn’t seen her.

  He opened the front door to the store carefully. “Hey, Mrs. Bjorklund, you got a cup of coffee for a weary traveler?”

  “Hjelmer!” Penny spun away from dusting her spice shelves and darted across the well-stocked room to throw her arms around him.

  “I think for a greeting like that, I should be gone more.” He held her close and kissed the tip of her nose and then her laughing mouth.

  “No, you don’t.” She thumped him on the arm and then stood on tiptoe to kiss him again, pulling instantly back when the bell tinkled not three feet behind them.

  “You look good in red.”

  She glanced at her dress, started to say something, then her cheeks flamed even brighter. “Hjelmer Bjorklund, go pour your own coffee. I’ve got work to do.” She straightened her apron. “How can I help you?” she greeted her customer.

  “You can go on as you were,” a laughing voice replied.

  “Good idea,” Hjelmer whispered. He turned and smiled at the woman behind him. “Good morning, Tante Agnes.” He touched the brim of his black fedora with the tip of his finger.

  “Go on with you.” Penny gave him a push toward their home off the store. “Good morning, Tante. What do you need today?”

  “Thought I’d wait here while Joseph takes a wheel over to the smithy. You didn’t have to send that handsome young man of yours off like that.” Agnes Baard paused to look over the display of boys’ boots that Penny had gotten in the day before, a smile dimpling her cheek.

  “He just came home.” Penny surreptitiously smoothed her hair back where Hjelmer’s hug had pulled it loose from the bun she wore.

  “Then you go on back and take care of him. I can just look around to my heart’s content.”

  “The coffee is hot.”

  Agnes cocked her head and crinkled her eyes. “Well, now, that would taste mighty good, seeing as how we left home hours ago.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Oh, took some things out to that new family, the Rasmussens. How they’re going to be ready for winter is beyond me, ’specially if they go west like the mister wants. Going to take a miracle for sure.”

  “Or the women of Blessing Lutheran Church.” Penny brushed aside the curtain that closed off the store from their living quarters.

  “Well, I’d say that’s a miracle in its own right.”

  “You would.”

  Agnes took the chair that Penny pointed her to and glanced around the kitchen-sitting room combined. “Ah, my girl, you have made this such a friendly home. No wonder those railroad men wanted to eat here.”

  “They seem to like it just fine over at Bridget’s now. Haven’t had anyone come here and complain I’m not serving anymore.” Penny arranged molasses cookies on a plate and set that on the table. “If you want something more, dinner will be ready in an hour or so.”

  “No. This hits the spot.” When the coffee cup was set before her, Agnes dunked her cookie in the steaming brew and nibbled off the spongy part.

  “How is it at your house with all the children in school?” Penny set her and Hjelmer’s cups down and took her chair.

  “Too quiet. I find myself banging things just to make noise. You know, if we were to find some children like the White boys off the train, I sure would be pleased to take them in. I thought about that this morning out at Ingeborg’s place.” Agnes shook her head, and the light silvered some of the hairs at her temple. “But the best we can do there is provide for the whole family, if those folks aren’t too prideful to accept our help. After all, we all been there one time or another.”

  “Are the children old enough for school?”

  “One could be but is so shy.” Agnes shook her head. “The other two are barely out of diapers, and the missus has another under the apron. She’s so thin herself that the babe will come with problems, you mark my words.”

  Penny looked around her own cheerful kitchen and tried to imagine having nothing. Thanks to their generous friends, when she and Hjelmer married, they already had a good start on a household. And opened the store not much later. But then Hjelmer had already worked hard for his money.

  Not to say Mr. Rasmussen hadn’t. Losing everything you owned in a train wreck was a shock for certain. “I guess they must be grateful they were on another train.”

  Agnes nodded. “But it’s hard to be grateful when you see all your work come to naught and have to seek help from people yo
u don’t even know. I think having Pastor Solberg to come to makes it easier for the askin’, though.”

  “Tante Agnes, glad you could join us.” Hjelmer came down the stairs, white shirts hanging over his arm.

  “I suppose you need those for tomorrow?” Penny’s eyes widened.

  Hjelmer nodded. “Sorry. I’ll bring in water.”

  “And the boiler?”

  He sat down at the table, reaching for a cookie at the same time.

  “After my coffee.”

  “So tell us what you have found out.” Agnes propped both elbows on the table and held her cup at sipping height with both hands.

  “Nothing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Augusta fell off the face of the earth.”

  “Don’t say it like that to your mor.” Agnes’s eyebrows flattened in a frown.

  “I won’t. I don’t want to say anything to her. No news is good news, you know?”

  “Humph, if that isn’t a man.” She turned to her niece. “I got something for you, Penny. Thought it might come in handy here at the store.” Agnes reached down in her bag and brought up some brown papers. She laid them on the table and opened one.

  “An envelope?” Penny reached for one of the two-layer contrivances. She pressed the flattened sides, and the papers opened like a mouth. “There’s no flap.”

  “No. I cut the paper, folded it in half, and pasted down the side and across the bottom. I figured you could put cookies or a piece of cake or a sandwich in them. You can fold down the top to close it. Easier than wrapping with brown paper and string like you do for cheese and such.”

  “What a clever idea.” Penny opened another. “What should we call them?”

  “Why, paper bags or sacks, I s’pose. I got the idea looking at a grain sack, only those are sewn up. Joseph says I got too much time on my hands when I have time to play with paper and paste, but I just thought it might be a good thing for you. You give me the paper, and I’ll make more.”