A Season of Grace

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Once it’s strung, it’s easy. What colors might you want? There are several to choose from over in that box.” Gunlaug pointed to a wooden box by the sewing machine under the window. “The wool carders are in there too, so you could start that. We need to get those fleeces carded so we can spin it. I know I taught Nilda how to spin thicker thread for the rugs.”

  “You taught me what?” Nilda asked as she came through the door.

  “To spin thicker thread for the rugs.”

  Nilda set her bag of knitting on the chair and went over to pick up the carders. “It’s a shame we don’t have another set. This is good for winter evenings. Why, I’m sure we could get Leif to card, and maybe even Knute.”

  “After their homework.” Signe finished her coffee and stretched. Kirstin was sound asleep in her pen. “I’m going to the cellar to get apples for the pies for tomorrow. This was a nice break.”

  “I’ll do the crusts.” Nilda followed Signe.

  “And I’ll help peel.” Selma gathered up the tray and carried it to the kitchen.

  “Gerd, how about you keep me company?” Gunlaug asked. “You can knit in here.”

  “Or sew.” Gerd pointed to the sewing machine in front of the window. “I want to finish the dress I started for Kirstin. Perhaps I will be ready to try it on her when she wakes up. I’m making it plenty big.”

  Signe looked at the clock when the pies went in a while later. “Oh my goodness, dinnertime is almost here, and we’ve not even started.”

  “I’ll get the soup from the well house,” Nilda called over her shoulder as she was going out the door.

  Working together, they had dinner ready in no time, and Signe thanked God for having her family around her again.

  The wagon was full when they left for church the next morning. Gunlaug and Gerd sat up on the seat with Rune, and everyone else sat in back. As usual, Mrs. Benson greeted them at the door.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” She reached for Kirstin, who went willingly into her arms. “Finally, little one, you let me hold you.”

  “You bribed her with a cookie the last few times you’ve seen her, remember?” Signe said, laughing. “She never forgets where cookies come from.”

  “You are such a smart and beautiful little baby. Well, not really a baby anymore.” Mrs. Benson had to untangle a questing fist from the veil on her hat. Once Signe had helped free the hat, Mrs. Benson handed Kirstin back. “And you must be Selma and Eric. We are so pleased to have you here.”

  “This is Mrs. Benson, the best neighbor anyone could have,” Signe finished the introductions.

  “Mr. Kielund and his children have already gone to sit down. We will introduce you after the service.”

  The gentle music from the organ shifted into announcing it was time to begin.

  When they were seated, Nilda whispered to Selma, “He is sitting two rows behind us on the other side of the aisle.”

  They all stood for the opening hymn. As they sang “Holy, Holy, Holy,” Signe, as usual, felt she was being lifted up to float above, rising like the music to praise her Lord. She wanted to sing it in Norwegian but made herself read the words in the hymnal to sing in English.

  After the service, Mr. and Mrs. Benson brought Oskar Kielund and his children over to meet Selma.

  “Good to see you again,” Rune said, shaking Mr. Kielund’s hand. “We want you to meet our cousin Selma Strand and her son, Eric.” Signe stood right next to Selma, as if to give her courage.

  “I am glad to meet you,” Mr. Kielund said, looking as nervous as Selma did. “These are my children, Olaf, who is five and named after my grandfather, and Katie, who is three and named after her mother, Katrina.” He stumbled a bit on his wife’s name.

  Signe translated for Selma, who then said, “I am glad to meet you too, and this is my son, Eric. He is five also.” She stumbled over the words as she spoke the English Nilda and Signe had coached her on.

  Neither of them looked the other in the face, Signe thought, but time would help. “Mrs. Strand is working on her English, but she came in such a hurry, she didn’t have much time.”

  Rune introduced his mor, then said, “We’d like you to join us for dinner.”

  Mr. Kielund paused a moment. “We can do that.” He included a nod and a half look at Selma.

  Reverend Skarstead came to their group. “I see you’ve all met.” He extended his hand to Gunlaug and used Norwegian. “And you must be the mother of these fine people. Welcome to America.” He shook Gunlaug’s hand, cupping it between both of his.

  “And this is our cousin Selma Strand and her son, Eric.” Rune turned to Selma and spoke in Norwegian. “This man has become not only our pastor but also a very good friend.”

  “Takk,” Reverend Skarstead said. “Welcome. It is my pleasure to meet more of your families. I will continue to pray God’s blessings on all of you and us.” He shook hands with the rest of them and smiled reassuringly at Oskar. “All will be well.” He turned to Rune. “How are you doing on the house?”

  “All wintered in, but lots to finish on the inside. Winter and evening work.”

  “Can you use a couple of hands? Both Oskar and I are fair finish carpenters.”

  “I’d be glad to help too,” Mr. Benson threw in. “How about next Saturday?”

  “Ah, why—why, thank you. But you have already done so much.”

  “Don’t worry, your turn will come to help someone else. Besides, swinging a hammer feels mighty good after all the reading and writing and office work I have to do. My wife helps as much as she can with that sort of thing, but now that the garden is put to bed, as I said, carpentry will feel real good.” The reverend clapped Mr. Kielund on the shoulder. “I guarantee you’ll have a fine meal at their house. All of you—enjoy.”

  As they were loading the wagons to head home, Leif went over to little Olaf. “I can take you down to our barn to see the new kittens. You could even hold one.”

  Olaf looked at him, eyes big, but he nodded and turned to his sister. “Can she come too?”

  “Ja, and Eric too. Just think, you and he are both five. Do you have a dog? We do. His name is Rufus, and he likes to play, especially chasing sticks. You could throw a stick for him, if you like.”

  Olaf looked up at his father, who nodded.

  “Good. See you at our farm.” Leif ran back to the wagon to jump in beside Knute, both of them dangling their legs over the back of the wagon bed.

  Knute nudged his younger brother. “What did you say to them?”

  “That I’d show them the kittens and that Rufus likes to chase sticks.”

  “Hmm. If only we could get him to bring them back.”

  “Maybe he’ll get it today.”

  Signe nodded to herself. Maybe they’d all get it today. Leave it to Leif.

  Chapter

  14

  Oh, for pity’s sake, you could at least look at each other. Nilda bit her tongue. Thoughts were one thing, but saying something right now might only make it worse.

  “We have plenty more,” Signe announced. “Mr. Kielund, please help yourself.” She passed the platter of baked rabbit around again. After he declined, Knute and Bjorn took more and Ivar, after a glance at Signe, cleared the platter.

  This was almost as bad as having Einar back, only the feeling around the table was not anger. Just very quiet.

  “Would you like to go see the kittens after dinner?” Leif tried again after catching Olaf’s eye when he finally looked up from his empty plate.

  The little boy shook his head—barely.

  Katie climbed up in her pa’s lap. They did not call him Far but Pa. Another difference, but surely not insurmountable.

  Nilda rolled her eyes at Signe and stood. “I’ll take your plates, then.” When Selma started to join her, Nilda frowned at her.

  “I will cut the pie.” Selma motioned for Eric to stay seated.

  “I want to see the kittens,” Eric whispered to Leif.

  Leif grinned bac
k. “Ja, we will do that.” He answered in Norwegian, then switched to English. “Katie and Olaf, you can come too. After dessert. Mor and Tante Nilda make the best pies.” He grinned at Gerd.

  You two are the best. Nilda smiled at them both.

  Selma dished up the apple pie and set a small plate in front of each person at the table.

  Mr. Kielund softly said, “Thank you.”

  Ah, two words spoken. Uff da! Nilda picked up the coffeepot. “More coffee to go with your pie, Mr. Kielund?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “You sure have a fine team, Mr. Kielund,” Ivar said. “How I would like a team like that one day. They are so much bigger than Norwegian horses.”

  “I have not found Norwegian horses in this country. These are Belgians.”

  “And one is named Petunia.” Knute grinned.

  “And Daisy. My wife named them, and she loved flowers. They’re the best team I’ve ever had. They can skid those big trees like none else I’ve seen, even when they get iced in.”

  When the pie was finished, Signe nodded to her boys. “You can be excused.” She looked at Mr. Kielund’s two children. “You can go along, and Eric too.”

  “Thank you, but I think we need to get on home.” Oskar pushed back his chair. “What a fine meal. Best we’ve had in a long time. Come on, children. Say thank you.”

  Both of them mumbled a thank-you and took their pa’s hands as if afraid he might leave them behind.

  “Go say good-bye, at least.” Nilda nudged Selma, who shook her head.

  Rune and Signe followed them out to the porch. “Thanks for coming.” Rune went to stand at the horses’ heads. “See you in church next Sunday, if not before.”

  Kielund nodded. “Thank you again, Mrs. Carlson, for such a fine meal.” He backed up his team, turned, and they trotted out the lane.

  Nilda joined Signe and Rune on the porch. “Well, that was a disappointment.”

  “Don’t give up yet,” Rune cautioned as he wagged his head. “Not what I expected, though.”

  “I wanted to shake them both.”

  “Now, Nilda, patience is a good thing.” He snorted. “Come on, boys, let’s go on down to the barn. Knute, you bring Kirstin on your shoulders, and Leif, you bring Eric. Somebody is going to have a good time today.” He turned to Signe, who was fussing over the baby. “I will make sure she is all right. You could come along if you want.” He raised his voice. “In fact, you could all come if you want. We have mighty fine kittens.”

  Back at the house some time later, Gunlaug commented, “Since that cat had her kittens in the barn, she might train them to be good hunters. It would help with the mouse and rat horde there.”

  “I wonder if once she weans them, she will come back to the house. Having the two of them here was such a pleasure.” Signe pulled the coffeepot forward.

  “Kirstin sure thought so, but now she finds Rufus more entertaining.” Nilda picked up Gul and petted her until she purred. “Hearing and feeling a cat purr is such a comfortable sound.” She sat down on a chair and motioned Eric over. “See, you can pet her like this.” When he did as she said and felt the cat purring, he looked up at her, almost smiled, and stroked the cat again. When he laid his ear against the cat and kept one hand on her back, even his sober little face relaxed, and he sighed. When the cat jumped down, Nilda held out her arms, and he let her lift him onto her lap.

  “Now, that’s better,” she whispered against his head, which nestled into her chest. “Much better. I held you when you were just a baby and helped you learn to walk. I know you don’t remember, but I sure do. You were so cute.” She murmured her Norwegian words against his soft hair.

  Nilda looked up and saw Selma smiling at them. If only she would smile like that at Mr. Kielund. He’d lose his heart for sure. Or at least be more interested.

  “I keep thinking of those two little ones who were here today,” Nilda said. “So horribly shy. They sure need a woman’s touch again.”

  “Ja, but their mor left them, remember, and it wasn’t that long ago. No wonder they hold on to their far so tightly. They’re afraid he will leave too.” She looked at Eric and then at Nilda. Her message was clear.

  “Give them all time,” Gunlaug said. “I know a little something about grief. Give them time.”

  “That’s for sure,” Gerd added. “Poor little kids, losing a parent like that. How can they be anything but afraid?” She had a faraway look in her eye. “Good thing time can indeed make things easier.”

  Gunlaug smiled sadly. “I certainly hope so.”

  Gerd looked at her. “You haven’t had enough time yet, Gunlaug.”

  “Will there ever be enough time?”

  Gerd studied her hands for a moment. “Perhaps not.”

  The next afternoon, when the boys rode in from school, Leif slid off Rosie with the dinner pails and waved a letter. “Tante Selma, you got a letter.”

  She wiped her hands on her apron and reached for it. “It’s not from Norway.”

  “Mrs. Benson gave it to me.” He dug in his lunch pail and pulled out a packet. “She made me promise not to look until we got home.” With a wide grin, he opened the packet and displayed three peppermint sticks. “One for Eric too.”

  “Who is it from?” Nilda asked, her curiosity eating at her like a mouse on cheese.

  The heat started in Selma’s neck and climbed up her face. “Mr. Kielund. But it’s in English. Leif, can you read this, please?”

  Leif laid down his peppermint sticks and spread the letter out flat on the table, pointing to the words as he translated. “‘I would like to invite you to come see my farm on Thursday. If you accept my invitation, I will come for you at one. Please reply by way of Mrs. Benson. Respectfully, Oskar Kielund.’”

  “Oh.” Selma looked perplexed. “Takk, Leif. Tusen takk.”

  “You’re welcome.” He scooped up his peppermint sticks and hustled off to the other room.

  “And?” Nilda asked pointedly.

  “What?”

  “And you will go?” Nilda nearly stamped her foot at the hesitation on Selma’s face. Lord, help us.

  “I—I . . .”

  Nilda and Signe both nodded. “Ja, you will go. Write to him now and invite him to come earlier for dinner.”

  “B-but what about Eric?”

  Nilda stared at the ceiling. “He can stay here with us just fine. If he cries, he will stop. If Mr. Kielund asks for him to come too, he will go with you. This isn’t a lifetime commitment yet. Just a ride to see his farm.” She spoke slowly with extremely precise enunciation. The tightening of her jawline said more than the smile that was more of a grimace. When she rolled her eyes behind Selma’s back, even Gerd had to bite back a laugh.

  “I’ve got chores to do.” Leif headed out the door. “Bye.”

  Kirstin gabbled at him, but when the door shut behind him, a frown replaced her smile, and thunder descended as she worked herself into a howl.

  Gerd swooped her up and kissed her forehead. “Come on, little one, let’s go find the cat.”

  “We need to make her some more toys,” Gunlaug suggested with a nod. “Thor used to carve heads for dolls, and remember those trains he made for the boys?” Wistfulness sneaked over her face. “They’re in a box for other grandchildren. I wish I had brought some along.”

  “As if you had any more space.” Nilda headed for the workroom. “Since Selma said she’d make supper, the rest of us can get some work done in the other room.”

  “When we work in there, it’s like the years and all that has happened in between kind of slip away and . . . and I don’t know, I’m not saying it very well but . . .” Gunlaug wiped at the edge of her eye and sniffed. “Takk, tusen takk.”

  Another note rode home with the boys on Wednesday.

  Thank you, that sounds like a good idea. I will be there at noon tomorrow, like you said. —Oskar Kielund

  “Mrs. Benson must be getting a charge out of being the passer of notes.” Nilda wi
ggled her eyebrows at Selma. “Where’s Eric?”

  “At the barn with Leif and Knute. Darkness seems to fall earlier with each day.”

  “That’s only because it is. But at least we never have days of no sun like Norway and the lands up to the north in Canada.” Gerd tied Kirstin in the rocking chair. “To keep you out from under people’s feet.”

  Kirstin babbled at her and slammed her hand against the spoons tied on a string to entertain her. Sometimes, like now, she used them as a statement of ire.

  “Can we have chicken and dumplings tomorrow?” Selma asked. “You said there was an old hen ready for the stew pot.”

  “I know exactly which chicken.” Nilda grinned. Supper was almost ready when she brought in two hens, all plucked and dressed. “We can start these tonight and let them simmer. Leif said one of these pecked him so hard she drew blood. I don’t think she’s laid an egg since.” As she talked, she pumped water into a deep kettle and plopped the two birds in.

  She wondered if Mr. Kielund even had chickens. Would Rune’s family give the Kielunds any farm animals to help them forward? Probably. That was like Rune and Signe.

  “Gud dag,” Mr. Kielund said when he walked into the kitchen.

  Selma nodded and replied, “Good day.” Then the two of them actually smiled at each other. They had both learned the greeting for the other.

  Nilda and Signe could have turned cartwheels.

  “Come sit down before the food gets cold.” Gerd ushered the others to the table. “Since Selma did the cooking, the rest of us will do the serving.” She set a bowl of biscuits on the table. “Rune, grace, please.”

  This time the meal passed pleasantly, even if Mr. Kielund said very little.

  Nilda turned to the others after Mr. Kielund helped Selma and Eric up onto the wagon seat after the meal. “At least they actually greeted each other, and both of them learned for the other.” Her head kept nodding. “I think there is hope after all. On top of that, they looked at each other every once in a while at the table.”

  “There was indeed improvement,” Signe agreed, her grin nearly matching Nilda’s.