A Season of Grace

by Lauraine Snelling

  Kirstin’s eyes widened as a frown tugged at her mouth. She turned her face into her mor’s shoulder, peeking out but not moving yet.

  “And this is Gerd. I think the two of you might have met years ago.” Nilda drew Gerd into the circle. “See, you have a good family here too.”

  Leif stood beside Gunlaug and made one of his funny faces at Kirstin, who peeked between her fingers. She started to smile, then looked at Gunlaug again and hid her face.

  “Come, let’s not stand out here. Dinner is ready and waiting,” Gerd said. She held out a hand to Selma, whose son clung to her skirt. “Welcome. You are brave to come on a moment’s notice like this. I remember Nels as a young boy a little older than your Eric. How time goes by.” She looked at Ivar and Rune. “Why don’t you unload the wagon on the porch so the boys can put the horses away before we eat?”

  “There are two rocking chairs in the crate to be put back together, along with my loom,” Gunlaug said. “I would have brought more, but the shipping was too expensive. The chairs are wrapped in rugs and several fleeces.”

  Rune nodded. “We’ll put them in the shop until we can get to it.”

  By the time they sat down to eat, they had put two leaves in the table to make it larger, and the boys were sitting on a bench brought in from the porch.

  “Let’s say grace.” Rune bowed his head and began with the old words, “I Jesu navn gär vi til bords . . .” At the amen, the women wiped their eyes, and Rune and Ivar cleared their throats.

  “Tante Gerd, have you ever had this many people at this table before?” Leif asked.

  She shook her head. “No, never. That’s why I almost forgot we had leaves to put in it. They came with the table, and I put them back in the closet so Einar wouldn’t cut them up for kindling.” She heaved a sigh and smiled around the circle. “I’m glad he didn’t.”

  “Me too.” Leif grinned at her. “Tante Gerd, do you know you are smiling a lot nowadays?”

  Signe and Rune shared a look, but when Gerd actually nodded and chuckled, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

  Nilda nearly choked. She twitched her eyebrows at her mor, and Gunlaug did the same back. Leave it to Leif.

  Gerd and Nilda kept the bowls of noodles and baked chicken full as well as the rolls circulating until everyone complained of being too full. Then they poured the coffee, and the catching up continued. Kirstin went down for a nap, and at Signe’s insistence, Gerd went with her. Eric fell asleep in his mor’s lap, so Selma carried him into the parlor too.

  “Mor,” Rune said a bit later, “we had a discussion. Since Gerd lives with us, the women decided to turn her bedroom into the women’s workroom. We can put a bed in there for you, but for now it is upstairs. Is that all right with you, managing the stairs?”

  “What do you think I am, an old woman?” Gunlaug’s mock horrified look made Nilda hide a chuckle.

  “See, I told you,” she said.

  Rune shrugged. “I know, but—”

  “We brought two feather beds too,” Gunlaug continued, “one for you and Signe, and one for me, unless Gerd would rather have it.”

  “A real feather bed again?” Signe sighed. “I have saved the feathers from the geese Bjorn brought home, but I think I only have enough for a pillow.”

  Gunlaug looked at Bjorn. “Well, you better get that shotgun and go for more. They should still be flying south, aren’t they?”

  “Bestemor, we’ve been trying to make beds and such ready for you to come,” Bjorn protested. “I’d much rather go hunting than cut down the big trees, even.”

  “And that means a lot from our young logger here.” Rune laid a hand on Bjorn’s shoulder. “He hopes to bring in a buck that shows up in the cornfield once in a while.”

  “The geese sometimes set down in that same cornfield. When I shot ducks over at the lake, I couldn’t get to them all. Mr. Garborg lets me use his boat. It’d be good if Rufus learned to retrieve ducks in the water.”

  “They’ve gone fishing a couple of times too, but I still miss the northern cod and salmon, the ocean fish.” Nilda shrugged. “But you can’t have everything.”

  “Would you be surprised if I brought lutefisk and some dried cod in that crate?” Gunlaug asked.

  “Really?” Rune’s face lit up. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. And we even have potatoes to make lefse.”

  “I tried the lefse without potatoes, like some places do, but it just was not the same. I only did it once.” Signe nodded. “I’ll make it again, to serve with real fish.”

  Nilda patted Signe’s shoulder. “Just think, lutefisk and lefse, like home.”

  They moved out to the porch and kept talking until it was time for chores. All the males left the conversation and went to help.

  “Bestemor, maybe tomorrow you can come and see our animals and chickens,” Leif said. “We have lots to show you.”

  Gerd and Kirstin joined them after their naps, and Eric climbed back on his mor’s lap. Signe flipped a piece of an old sheet over her shoulder and settled Kirstin in to nurse.

  “Is she feeding the baby?” Eric asked in a whisper loud enough to be heard in the garden.

  Selma nodded. “Like you did when you were a baby.”

  “Where did the boys go?” he asked.

  “It is chores time, just like at home. There are animals to take care of.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well, one of the little ones is warming up.” Nilda stood and stretched. “I could heat up the coffee.”

  “And we probably should start supper.” Gerd started to rise.

  “No, you sit there,” Nilda said. “Supper is easy tonight. Those carrots we pulled yesterday and rabbit and noodles. I brought up some pickles, and we’ll throw squash in the oven too.”

  “And there is gingerbread in the pantry,” Signe added.

  Leif came charging out of the barn. “Guess what? Gra had her kittens. There are four. She brought them out for milk. They were behind the oat bin.”

  Eric leaned forward. “Kittens?”

  Leif nodded. “Tomorrow you can come with me to see them.”

  Eric withdrew to the safety of his mor’s chest.

  “Perhaps Leif will show us all tomorrow,” Selma said into her son’s hair, receiving a bit of a nod in return.

  Kirstin sat up and burped. Signe rolled her eyes as Leif laughed, making Kirstin giggle. “We can peel the carrots out here,” Signe said. “I think there are enough of us to get that done.”

  “You could make more cookies too.” Leif looked hopefully at Gerd.

  “You go on and get the chores done.” She made shooing motions with her hands, sending him off with a smile.

  “I like your smiles, Tante Gerd,” he called over his shoulder.

  That night, after the others had left for the new house and Selma had taken Eric up to bed, Nilda, Ivar, and Gunlaug continued talking around the table.

  “Have you heard any news about Dreng from the Nygaard house?” Nilda asked, careful not to sound too interested.

  “Oh, his mor is raving proud of how well he is doing, working for his onkel in Minneapolis.”

  “Oh, really?” She exchanged a look with Ivar. “Anything else?”

  “She said that his onkel is going to give him a promotion, but I’m not sure what his business does.” Gunlaug tipped her head slightly. “Why do you ask? I thought you never wanted to hear of him again.”

  “I didn’t and I don’t.” Tell her. Don’t tell her. An argument started up in Nilda’s head. She could feel her mor’s stare even when she didn’t look at her. Come on, Ivar, change the subject.

  Ivar asked, “Johann and Solveig are getting on all right?”

  “Johann and Solveig moved into our house, and they like it very much. They haven’t mentioned emigrating. Oh, and they are expecting a baby this winter.” Mor cleared her throat. “Are you planning on telling me what is so heavy on your mind?” she said softly but firmly.

  “Dreng is in Blackduck, no
t Minneapolis. I have no idea what happened with his onkel, but he is looking for work.” Nilda could hear the flatness of her response.

  “Or a handout,” Ivar threw in.

  Nilda wished she’d never even brought up Dreng. Why couldn’t she just let it alone? “And I have accepted a job with Mrs. Schoenleber for two days a week. I start next Monday morning, so someone will take me there, and her driver will bring me home. Perhaps eventually I will take the train, if we can work that out.”

  “I see.” Gunlaug patted her daughter’s hand. “My word, how I have missed you. But I’m glad you have found another job. Mrs. Schoenleber sounds like a delightful woman. You will be a maid there?”

  “No, I will be her assistant, whatever that will mean.”

  Ivan grinned. “There is a certain young man who works at the lumberyard in Blackduck. We met him on the ship to Duluth and quickly became friends. I think I, or rather Nilda, wrote about him.”

  “Good thing you corrected that, as we did not receive one letter from you.” Gunlaug tapped him on the arm, but her smile took any sting out of the words.

  Ivar hung his head. “Sorry, but you know how much I dislike writing letters. And besides, Nilda is a good letter writer.”

  “Ja, she is, when she writes.” Gunlaug studied her hands.

  The moment stretched as far as Nilda could stand. The words clashing in her head broke loose. “I don’t ever want to see him again, but I’m afraid that if I am in Blackduck, I will see him. He seems to have ingratiated himself with Mrs. Schoenleber.”

  “I see.”

  Nilda wished she could see, but just the thought of that man made her stomach knot. Was the position with Mrs. Schoenleber worth taking the chance?

  Chapter

  13

  I think it’s time we start having breakfast here in our house,” Signe announced. She lifted her shawl off the wall hook and thought for a moment about how much their lives had progressed in a few short months—new house, more farming, and now, Gunlaug.

  Rune looked at his wife. “Now that there are so many people over there, that is fine with me. We can try it and see how it works.”

  “I’m heading over to the other house,” Gerd called up the stairs. “You want me to take anything?”

  “We’re about ready, so we’ll go with you.” Signe finished dressing Kirstin, who waved her arms and chattered back at her.

  When they stepped out onto the porch, they saw that frost lit the tips of the grass, the sun not yet up enough to turn it into a carpet of jewels.

  “Are the boys at chores?” Gerd asked as she smiled at Kirstin, who leaned toward her tante. “I sleep so well in this new house. I wonder if it’s because there are no bad memories here.”

  “Could be,” Rune answered with a nod.

  The four of them set out on the now well-worn path.

  “By winter I’m sure we’ll wish the houses were closer together,” Gerd said. “It’s a long way to string a rope to the barn for a blizzard.”

  Rune tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and smiled down at her. “Somehow we will work it all out. I think today we will put together Gunlaug’s loom and the rocking chairs. Then after church tomorrow, the boys can go fishing, and I can finish those up. Monday we’ll start back in the woods.”

  Gerd nodded and stopped to catch her breath.

  “Sorry, we got to walking too fast. The ideas got me going.” Rune and Signe waited patiently. “What, no argument about getting out to the trees?”

  Gerd shook her head. “You did as I asked. Of course there is always the fall field work. . . .”

  “I know. I’ll string a fence around the cornfield so the cows and horses can clean that up. Leif can take the sheep out to graze the oat field when he gets home.”

  Leave it to Rune to have a plan all ready, not like Einar yelling his orders for the day at the breakfast table. Signe nodded to herself. Life was so much more peaceful without him there. What a horrible thought, the demanding side of her mind intruded. What kind of Christian would think something like that? How do I control these thoughts that sneak in? I don’t want to be like that. Lord, thank you for forgiving me in spite of me.

  They entered the kitchen of the other house to find Nilda, Gunlaug, and Selma already there.

  “So, Mor, you are really here. I was afraid I dreamed yesterday.” Rune looked in the woodbox. “Uh-oh, better bring some in.”

  “I’m spoiled from the boys taking care of the woodbox. I was going to get a couple of armloads in a minute.” Signe filled the coffeepot and set it on the hottest part of the stove.

  “I’ll help too.” Selma followed Rune out the door, as did Nilda. After two loads each, with the woodbox about half full, Selma put on one of the aprons from the hook behind the stove.

  “But you are a guest.” Gerd tied on her own apron.

  “I was yesterday, but today I am a cousin who is used to working with her family.” She turned and almost tripped on her shadow. “Eric, why don’t you go talk to the baby? Maybe you can make her laugh like Leif does. After all, he will be going to school, and she needs a brother more her size.”

  Nilda and Signe grinned at each other.

  Signe nodded at Selma. “Good for you. Welcome to all of the family gathered here. Now this feels even more like home. Remember all the times we baked together, or shelled peas or snapped beans, anything that needed doing?”

  Gunlaug joined in. “At whatever house the doing needed to be done.”

  “That is something I really missed.” Signe tried to stop her sigh but couldn’t quite contain it.

  Gerd looked wistful. “I haven’t had that since we left Norway. I think I began to believe it was a dream and let it go.”

  Signe hugged Gerd around her thin shoulders. “Well, we have it now, and perhaps others from the family will come here.”

  Gerd stopped stirring the oatmeal. “I wonder if that land either south or west of us might be for sale. Or any other land nearby.”

  All the others stopped and gaped at her.

  She went back to stirring. “Well, it is something to think about. Don’t look at me like that.” She brushed a hand at them as if they were flies, which brought out several chuckles.

  Signe wished Rune were there, but he had gone down to the barn to see how things were going. Wait until she told him Tante Gerd’s new idea.

  She watched Selma, with her mousy brown hair pulled straight back and tucked into a snood, and her capable hands doing whatever she saw needed doing, and a smile that, when it came out, made her square face almost beautiful. The gentle way she handled her small son was how she would treat Mr. Kielund’s sad-faced children. Signe nodded. Surely this union was going to be a good thing. And even if it was sort of an arranged marriage, surely they would grow to love each other. She added a please, God to that thought and set about fixing breakfast for her family.

  Later, after the house was cleaned and Gunlaug’s loom was set up in the workroom, Signe sat in one of the reassembled rocking chairs and fed Kirstin her noon meal before the others came in to eat. She watched Gunlaug rethreading her loom.

  “I will thread the other as soon as I am done with this one.” Gunlaug finished with the plain off-white string that formed the warp and tied on a yarn of deep blue to start the weft. When she threw the shuttle and slammed the batten on the first thread, she smiled and inhaled a deep breath. “My first rug in the new land. This one is to go by Gerd’s bed. She needs some color in that room. Perhaps we could buy the fabric for a quilt for her bed. After all, she refused the feather bed, saying her corn and hay mattress is just fine. Once we shear those sheep next spring, perhaps we can use some of the wool for her mattress. If only I had some money to buy more.”

  “Don’t say that too loud, or she’ll go find some and trade a hog for it.”

  “Who’ll go find some what?” Nilda asked as she brought in a cup of coffee for each of them. “Since you are too busy to come out there, I brought it in here.”
>
  Selma carried in two of the kitchen chairs, and Nilda fetched another before she returned to grab the tray of gingerbread drizzled with hard sauce and the other three coffees. And two cookies and a glass of milk for Eric.

  When everyone was seated, Signe announced, “It just dawned on me that Kirstin’s birthday is less than two weeks away. With all that has happened, I nearly forgot.”

  “I didn’t.” Gerd rolled her eyes. “What a terrifying day that was.”

  Signe settled her daughter down on the floor and set her dress back to rights. “I thought I was going to die and my baby too, but Gerd saved us.”

  “You saved me first,” Gerd said firmly. She leaned over and lifted Kirstin, who was standing at her knees, jabbering at her, onto her lap. “Uff da. Baby girl, you are getting so big.”

  “How close to walking is she?” Gunlaug asked as she slammed the batten again.

  “She won’t let go of anything to step out, just plops back down and crawls.” Signe took a sip of her coffee and wrinkled her nose. “Anyone else need a warm-up?” She started to stand, but Selma beat her to it and returned with the coffeepot.

  “This feels so like home,” Nilda said. “I need to go get my knitting from upstairs.”

  Signe picked Kirstin up off Gerd’s lap. “You go play in your pen, and maybe Eric will come talk with you.” She looked at him seated on the floor beside his mor’s chair and nibbling on his cookies. Poor little guy probably hadn’t had many cookies, at least since his far died. His glass of milk was empty. Signe set a circle of tin measuring cups and a ball of cloth stuffed with bits of leftover cloth in the pen with Kirstin.

  “It’s about time she had a doll, isn’t it?” Gunlaug asked. “I should have brought her one. I wonder what happened to those rag dolls. I must have given them all away.” Another slam of the batten.

  “She’d probably chew it all up yet. Still teething.” Signe watched Gunlaug. “I see you strung the other loom. Perhaps now I can find time to learn how to use it.”