“Don’t remind me. The bank owns my soul now.”
“Oh no. Your soul is God’s, and your heart is mine. Don’t ever forget it. The bank only has claims on the harvest.” He pulled her into a sheltered corner so he could put his arm around her again.
“You say the nicest things.” Ingeborg leaned into his chest.
“You make it easy to say good things.” He tipped up her chin so he could look into her eyes. “You are not to worry about the bank loans. I am your husband now, and that is my job. We will pay them all off within two years, so that by the time your homestead is proven, we will be debt free.”
“Ja, if the harvest is good, and—”
He laid a finger over her lips. “Hush. The machinery will more than pay for itself, and you aren’t married to just a farmer. Remember, I will be a lumberman in the winter, too.” He looked deep into her eyes, as if he could see clear to her soul. “I will take care of you and our family, Ingeborg Bjorklund, have no fear.”
“You and God?”
“No, God and me. He comes first.”
Ingeborg rested her forehead on his chest. “Are you sure Lars will be there to meet us?”
“Yes, he and I, we made the arrangements. You can trust us to do what we say.”
“I know.”
The boat shuddered to a stop, and the crew threw out the hawsers. As soon as the gangplank clunked into place, men began hauling bundles down to the dock.
Ingeborg looked out, and sure enough, Lars stood in the wagon, waving his hat above his head so they would see him. She breathed a prayer of thankfulness and leaned down to pick up her valise. Inside it were presents for the boys and for the family.
“Mor! Mor!” Thorliff darted around the busy workmen and dashed up the gangplank to throw himself into her arms. “Oh, Mor, I missed you so.”
She clutched him to her and rested her cheek on his hair. “I missed you, too.” She let him wiggle out of her hug and took his hand. “Come, let’s go home.”
“Now you’re back, we’re a family, right?”
“What do you mean?” Ingeborg looked down into his upturned face.
“I mean, now Andrew and me, we have both a far and a mor like we used to. And you won’t have to work so hard in the fields anymore.” He squeezed her hand and finished with a serious nod. “Unless you want to, right?”
Haakan caught up with them and laid a hand on Thorliff’s shoulder.
Thorliff took his hand, looking up to the man beside him. “Do I call you Far now?”
“If . . . if you want to,” Haakan answered.
“I do, ’cause we’re a family now.” Thorliff dropped their hands and ran toward the wagon. “Onkel Lars, wait up.”
Ingeborg watched the flying bare feet of her son. As one who’d lost both a mor and a far in his short lifetime, he’d learned to take things as they came.
Haakan cleared his throat. “Yes, I guess that makes us official.” While he didn’t touch Ingeborg, the look he gave her shouted of love and loving.
When will I learn not to blush when he gives me looks like that?
Telling all of the news took until after midnight by the time they got home, so when the rooster crowed in the morning, Ingeborg had a hard time leaving the shelter of her new husband’s arms and beginning the day.
Haakan kissed her once more for good measure before he went out to the barn to milk. Ingeborg didn’t pay much attention to Paw’s barking until the timbre changed to a deep-throated growl. She hurried to the door to see Mr. Strand standing in his wagon, his gun pointed at Paws.
“Call off your dog,” he thundered, “ ’afore I blow his head off.”
“Paws, come here.” Ingeborg slapped her thighs. “Paws!”
Growling, the dog came, looking back over his shoulder with teeth bared. He took his place right next to Ingeborg, slightly in front of her knee.
“Whatever is going on out here?” Haakan burst from the barn, followed by Hjelmer.
“I come to make an honest man of that whelp there.” Strand pointed an accusing finger at Hjelmer. “He got my daughter in the family way, and he’s goin’ to marry her, and that’s the God’s truth.”
I did no such thing!”
“Are you calling me a liar? My daughter a liar?” Strand leveled the gun at Hjelmer’s chest.
“No, sir, not exactly.” Hjelmer took a step forward.
“Go back in the barn.” Haakan spoke the words softly, for Hjelmer’s ears alone.
“But—”
“Go back in the barn, easy like, one backward step at a time.” He stepped forward, and now the gun was aimed at him. “Mr. Strand, put the gun away. I’m sure we can sit down and talk about this without a gun.”
Ingeborg clasped her hands in front of her.
Haakan knew she was praying. He kept his gaze locked on that of the intruder. “Please, as a friend and neighbor, I ask you to come in and sit at our table. You have the honor of being our first guest since we got married. I’m sure Ingeborg has the coffee ready, or it soon will be.” All the while he kept his voice even and soothing, same as when he was calming a fractious animal.
Right on cue, Ingeborg chimed in. “Of course. You’re welcome to stay for breakfast, too, if you’d like.”
Haakan dared not look behind him to see if Hjelmer had obeyed or not. Walking forward, he took hold of the horse’s reins, right below the bit. He could see Strand was beginning to relax. The gun barrel now pointed down, and the man’s finger no longer clutched the trigger. “How about if we tie your horses up over by the barn? They might want a drink from the trough there, and I’m sure a feed of oats would be welcome. We’ll be mighty happy to have the new crop harvested. How are things looking over where you are staying?”
Strand laid his rifle down and climbed out of the wagon. “You won’t be pulling any funny business now, will you?”
Haakan could smell liquor on the man’s breath now that he was up closer. Had it taken some artificial courage to get over here? What in the world had happened to cause all this? As far as he knew, Hjelmer was truthful. The look of stark shock and horror on his face told them that, if nothing else. There’d been no ducking with a shamed face.
If the girl hadn’t been a tramp before she got here, the dream of Hjelmer must have done it to her. What a pity.
Haakan led the team over to the barn and tied them up. He asked Strand again about his family, anything to get the man talking about something else. “You found a homestead yet?”
“No! That’s another thing! I was all set to bid on the Polinski place, and you bought it right out from under me. I went over there the other day, and Mrs. Polinski said she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of that worthless husband of hers since the day he went into Grand Forks with you.”
Haakan groaned. In all the wedding excitement, he hadn’t gotten over there yet. But he’d expected the Polinskis to be gone by now. Abel had said they’d move immediately. Now what would he do?
“That low-down polecat. You don’t suppose he took off and left them, do you?”
Strand obviously enjoyed being the bearer of bad tidings. He perked right up, a grin coming to the corner of his mouth. He spat a plug of tobacco juice at the bottom of the rose bushes and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Couldn’t rightly say, but it sure looked that way to me.”
Ingeborg shot a look at Haakan that said she was simmering. When she slammed a plate of pancakes in front of the man, he was lucky he didn’t wear them or the coffee that hovered near his back while Ingeborg poured the cup full.
“Now, I didn’t plan to come for breakfast.” He looked up at Ingeborg. “But this sure looks mighty good.”
“Now, Mr. Strand—” Haakan began.
“Call me Oscar.” Strand wiped up the sour cream and jelly with the last bite of pancake. “And thank you, Mrs. Bjorklund. Now, weren’t that easy? You got married and you didn’t even have to change your name.” The skin tightened around his eyes. “Not like my girl. She’ll
be changing her name right soon, if’n I have anything to say about it.”
“Don’t you think you should ask Hjelmer for his side of the story?”
“Story be . . .” He followed with a string of cuss words and slapped his hands flat on the table, making the dishes jump.
Andrew whimpered from the bed where he’d still been sleeping. Ingeborg went to get him, glad Thorliff was out in the barn.
“Now, Mr. Strand, we don’t allow for that kind of talking in our home, so if you can’t calm down, we better step outside away from innocent ears.”
“Sorry.” Strand sent the apology Ingeborg’s way. “Didn’t mean to wake the little one, there.”
Haakan rested his elbows on the table and tented his fingers to tap his chin. “Here is what I propose. Let me talk with Hjelmer, and then we’ll come over later and talk with you and Mary Ruth.”
“My girl, she been raised right. We don’t do with no lying in our house neither.”
“I’m sure you don’t. But a few days one way or the other won’t make a difference in the long run.”
“Just so he does right by her. I want grandsons, but not on the wrong side of the blanket. And my Mary Ruth is a good girl.”
Who’s he trying to convince, me or himself? Haakan nodded but remembered the girl bringing afternoon cold water and cookies clear from where they were staying to Hjelmer out in the fields of the Bjorklund homestead. Did the father know about those little adventures, or was it strictly between mother and daughter? Sniffing out a polecat had never been difficult for Haakan.
The man rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I give that young pup three days to make this right, or I’m coming back with the gun, and this time no fancy talk is going to help a’tall.” He got to his feet. “Thankee for the meal, and my missus hopes you’ll come calling, soon like.” He clapped his hat on his head as he strode out the door.
“Like about when we have a thunderstorm in January!” Ingeborg sank onto a chair. “He means it, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, I thought we were getting through to him, but that conniving old sawhorse. He ate our food as if he would be a good neighbor, but he had no intention of changing his mind. Then to invite us to come calling! The nerve of the man!” Haakan leaned back in his chair and swiped both hands over his head, smoothing his hair for a few seconds. A grin started about midmouth and worked its way to the edges, then added strength with a chuckle and broke forth in full laughter like a spring freshet briefly dammed up by rubble.
“Haakan Bjorklund, what is so funny?”
Andrew looked up at his mother, then over at Haakan. When Ingeborg smiled down at him, he grinned and waved his pudgy fist in the air. When Haakan laughed again, Andrew let forth with the belly laugh of all belly laughs.
“What’s so funny?” Hjelmer and Thorliff walked in the door.
“M-Mr. Strand.” Haakan wiped his eyes.
“He wants to shoot me, and you think that’s funny?” Hjelmer stared from one to the other.
“He’d rather you married his d-daughter.” Ingeborg waved Andrew’s fist at them.
“That’s funny?”
“No, not funny at all, but you should have seen him.”
“I did. I don’t like looking down the end of a loaded shotgun.”
Haakan planted all four chair legs back on the dirt floor and swiped at his hair again. “Oh, my. Well, son, if you want my opinion, I think the best thing is for you to disappear for a time. Since you swear you aren’t the father to that girl’s baby, and I’ve seen how she’s after you, I have a hunch there is no baby.”
“She’d lie?”
“Appears so. How quick do you think you can be ready to leave?”
“Where would I go?”
“My guess is Fargo. Go work on the railroad like your brothers did. The pay is good, and they are always looking for strong backs. With your blacksmithing skills, you’d be a real asset.”
“But . . . but what about Penny?”
“You’d have to leave her here. Her folks wouldn’t hold too well with you and her running off. Besides, you don’t want to start married life on the run. In a couple of months, you’ll get a letter from us saying the baby never showed, and Mary Ruth is still slim and trim as ever.”
“And then you can come home.” Ingeborg set Andrew in his seat and went to the stove to begin frying pancakes again.
“But . . . but what if . . . ?”
“What if she really is in the family way?”
Hjelmer nodded.
“Do you swear that you are not the father?”
Hjelmer nodded again. “On a stack of Bibles, if I must.”
“Then all will turn out all right in the end. You eat yourself a good breakfast. Got any cash?”
“Some. Lessen twenty dollars, I think.”
“Good, that’s enough to hold you till you get paid.” Haakan got to his feet. “And if Strand comes back here, well, we’ll deal with that when it comes. But I don’t think he will. Let us know in a couple of weeks where you are, so before then we can honestly say we don’t know. That should shorten some of that old . . .”
“Haakan.”
“I won’t say it.” He raised his hands. “But it sure is hard not to think it.”
Within the hour, Haakan and Ingeborg, with Thorliff and Andrew in front of them, stood watching Hjelmer stride off across the prairie, heading south.
“I wonder when we will see him again?” Ingeborg said with a catch in her throat.
“Only God knows, but He will watch over him.” Haakan swung Andrew up to his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go fishing.”
“Fishing!” Thorliff jumped up and down. “I’ll get the worms.” He headed for the manure pile on the other side of the barn.
“Worms!” Andrew squirmed to get down. “Me, worms.”
“You’re a worm all right.” Ingeborg set him on the ground. “Thorliff, he’s coming with you.” She started into the house and turned back. “And don’t let him eat the worms.”
“I won’t.”
They returned late that afternoon with enough fish for them, for Kaaren and Lars, and some left for smoking. Lars took over the scaling job until the others finished chores, and then they all joined in. Ingeborg had scales clear to her elbows. Haakan even picked a few from her hair. At supper that night, they all ate fried fish till they complained of stomachs popping.
“Where do you suppose Hjelmer is by now?” Kaaren asked.
“I hope he’s far away, either by boat or train. I don’t trust that Strand fellow any farther than I can throw him.” Lars locked his hands behind his head.
“Or his wife, either,” Haakan added.
“Haakan!” Ingeborg shook her head with a glance to the boys.
“Where would you throw him?” Thorliff looked up from drawing on one of the pieces of brown wrapping paper.
“See?” Ingeborg’s look said more than that.
“Nowhere.” Haakan tousled the boy’s hair. “It’s just a figure of speech.”
“Me and Baptiste, along with Swen and Knute, we threw each other into the haystacks. That was fun. But no one’s big enough to throw Mrs. Strand.”
“You could build a . . .”
“Haakan Bjorklund.”
He winked at her but saved the rest of his comment for later. After the boys were sleeping, he leaned close to the rocking chair where she sat knitting a thumb on a mitten that looked to be about Andrew’s size. “Build a catapult and throw her into the next state. The next state after Minnesota.”
Ingeborg kept her voice low in case Thorliff really wasn’t asleep yet. “Shush. You have to watch what you say around those boys of mine. They repeat everything, and you know Thorliff believes every word you say.”
“You are right. But he needs to learn to tease and be teased, too. Otherwise how will he get along in school?”
“He’ll be fine.” She put her knitting away and picked up her Bible. “What should we read tonight?”
H
aakan listened as Ingeborg read of Christ’s miracles. As far as he was concerned, being here and married to this woman who seemed to glow in the lamplight was miracle aplenty. And later, when she lay tucked snugly against his side, he thanked God for the miracle of their love, and that he no longer had to sleep in the barn.
Hjelmer strode south, a pack containing clothes and bread and cheese over his shoulder, leaving all his tools but the carving knife behind. With each step, his rage at Mary Ruth deepened and spread. Here he was running again and through no fault of his own. Just like it had been in New York, where he was falsely accused of cheating and had to run for his life. Only this time the pursuer was a furious father. One not afraid to use a shotgun.
Hjelmer called Strand every name he could think of and a few he made up. When he was done with him, he started on Mary Ruth. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the hurt in Penny’s gentle gaze. Who would tell her? Would she believe the gossip that surely would arise? Would she wait for him, or marry another?
What if Mary Ruth really was pregnant? Who was the father? Not him, that was for certain.
Without conscious thought, he veered to the west and made a beeline for the Baard homestead.
“Mrs. Baard, is Penny home? I need to talk with her.”
“Hjelmer, what is that pack? Where are you going?” Agnes dusted her hands and wiped them on her apron.
“I’ll tell you later, but it is really important that I speak with her.” He clutched his hat in his hands. Please let her be near, I must talk with her. If someone had told Hjelmer he was praying, he would have laughed them off, but he repeated the phrase while Agnes wrinkled her brow to think.
“I know, she’s out with the boys cleaning the springhouse. Go on out.” She followed him to the door. “Everything is all right at home, isn’t it?”
“I hope so.” Hjelmer left her and headed for the room dug into the ground. He could hear someone laughing. As he got near, Swen bolted from a hole in the ground that was covered by a low roof of sod.
“I’ll get you!” Penny shot after him, skirts flying in the race to catch her cousin. From the look on her face, he must have been tormenting her again. “You ever throw a mouse at me again, and I’ll—” She stopped as if she’d slammed into a wall. “Oh.” Her hands went to her hair and then covered her face. “I’m a mess.”
Lauraine Snelling - [Red River of the North 02] Page 31