A Season of Grace

by Lauraine Snelling

“Thank you.” Signe passed the plates of gingerbread to Selma, who poured cream over them and handed the dessert around the table.

  “Pa, Tante Gerd told us the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff. Do you know that story?” Olaf looked up at his father, who sat beside him.

  Mr. Kielund smiled at his son. “Yes, I do. My ma used to tell it to us. I’ve not heard that story for a long time. Thank you, Mrs. Strand.”

  Gerd nodded. “You are welcome. We will have to remember another story for next time you come.” She smiled at Mr. Kielund. “Your children enjoy the kittens so much. Perhaps you would like to take them home with you when they get a bit older.”

  Signe was having trouble following the English, but she thought she got most of the conversation.

  “Oh, Pa, can we?” Olaf’s eyes grew wide.

  Mr. Kielund looked to Selma before answering. “That’s possible.” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but . . .” Again he looked at Selma, who was studying her now-empty plate. “Selma?”

  He’d called her by her first name! Signe nearly jumped up from the table. It was a shame Nilda wasn’t here. She would be so delighted.

  The drop of a piece of wood in the stove sounded loud in the waiting silence.

  “I-ah . . .” He cleared his throat again. “I—I asked Mrs. Strand to marry me, and she agreed.”

  A communal whoosh circled the table.

  Gunlaug nodded, beamed, and finally said, “That is wonderful. I pray God blesses you both as you build a new life together as a family.”

  “I am so happy for you.” Signe picked up Kirstin, who had been pulling at her skirt. “Have you set a date yet?”

  “I’m thinking we will talk with Reverend Skarstead this Sunday, and if he agrees, we will be married after church the next Sunday.” His smile at Selma said more than his words. He rested his hands flat on the table. “And now we better head home so we can be there before dark. Thank you for—for helping this all be possible and for making us all feel at home here.”

  “You are so welcome,” Signe said slowly, searching for the right words.

  “Remember, you are part of the family now.” Gerd smiled and nodded. “Such a good thing to celebrate here in our kitchen. Thank you for telling us.”

  “I planned to wait until I spoke with Rune, but today just happened.” Mr. Kielund stood. “Come along, Katie and Olaf. Tell them thank you for letting you stay.”

  Selma, with Eric at her side, waved them off from the back porch. When she shivered her way back into the kitchen, she looked around at the others, shaking her head. “Now, that was some surprise.”

  “A good surprise?”

  “Ja, we were on our way back, trying to talk and understand each other, when all of a sudden he said he had something to ask me, and he did, and I understood what he meant, and I nodded and said yes and nearly fell off the wagon seat.”

  “Remember, Reverend Skarstead said this was a fine plan, and he prayed the two of you would let God bless you this way. He will be so very pleased when you talk with him.” Signe puffed out a breath. “And now I better get to baking another gingerbread for supper. We need to celebrate!”

  Sunday on the way to church, Signe could barely sit still. Wait until Nilda heard the news! Selma wore a secret smile most of the time. Except when she let panic creep in.

  “What if we find we just don’t get along?” Selma asked in one of her panicked moments.

  “All couples go through periods like that.” Gunlaug shook her head. “Did you and Nels get along all the time?”

  Selma shook her head. “I tried to keep him from going out on the boat again, but he would not listen. And look what happened. Then I felt so terrible because we were still upset with each other when he left—and never came back.” Tears drowned her voice. She looked up to see Eric studying her, tears running down his cheeks too. She gathered him close and stifled her weeping. “It will be all right. Your Mor just let memories run away with her.”

  “But Far . . .”

  “I know, but now we have our new life in America, and you will have cousins and a new brother and sister very soon.”

  “I want to live with Bestemor and Tante Gerd, like now.”

  “Eric, look at that big dog.” Signe pointed off to the side, where a pony-sized brown dog patrolled land that had been cleared years earlier. “Isn’t he handsome?”

  “Too big.” Awe softened the words. “Rufus could run faster.”

  Signe nodded. “Possibly. At first I thought it was a small horse or a donkey, but he doesn’t have big ears. You could ride him.”

  Eric shook his head and scooted closer to his mor’s side. “I don’t like that dog.”

  Nilda was just being helped down from a carriage when they turned into the churchyard. She spoke to the driver and stepped back, waving to him as he left.

  Signe felt like leaping out of the wagon and screaming Selma’s news, but forced herself to wait until Rune stopped the wagon at the hitching rail.

  “Throw the blankets over the horses,” he instructed the boys.

  Steam billowed from the team until Bjorn and Ivar threw the blankets over their backs. At least they were tied in the sunshine so they wouldn’t be so cold. One of the horses in the team next to them snorted and stamped a foot.

  “Isn’t that Mr. Kielund’s team?” Knute asked.

  “I think you’re right.” Rune helped his mor down from the wagon seat and then his wife, who had moved to the tailgate with the others. His hands at her waist, he swung her to the ground, leaning close enough to whisper in her ear. “Isn’t this Selma’s news?”

  Signe huffed a sigh and gave her husband a hint of a dirty look. His eyebrows arched as he held out one arm for Gunlaug and the other for Signe.

  “I was afraid I would be late again, so I asked George to hurry.” Nilda met them at the bottom of the steps. “What is going on? I know something has happened.”

  Signe rolled her eyes toward Rune.

  “And you are under orders not to say anything?”

  Signe nodded, rolling her lips together, but she tipped her head slightly toward Selma.

  Nilda dropped her voice. “Selma’s news?” Her eyes widened to match her growing smile. “Really?”

  Signe nodded, grinning wider by the moment.

  “You two are impossible!” Rune failed at sounding stern, though he tried.

  Selma and Eric were slightly ahead of the others as they walked in the door. Her face gave her away. They could have blown out the lamps in the narthex, her face shone so bright.

  When Mr. Kielund drew her hand through his arm, anyone with eyes could have figured out that there had been a change in his life. His gentle smile at Eric and the way he ushered all of them into a pew made an announcement more clearly than any words.

  Mrs. Benson stopped Signe with a hand on her arm. She nodded toward the new couple just sitting down. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  Signe nodded and grinned back at her.

  “Have they talked with Reverend Skarstead yet?”

  “After the service.” She could feel Rune’s frown as he motioned his mor to go in the pew before him and waited in the aisle for his wife and daughter, who for a change were not the sole focus of Mrs. Benson’s attention. When Signe sat, she just caught Rune’s slight headshake. And thanks to Gunlaug sitting between them, she and Nilda would not be able to discuss anything. Not that they would, but . . .

  “But you can’t get married next Sunday!” Nilda wailed after Mr. Kielund and his children left after dinner. “Mrs. Schoenleber wants me to spend the entire next week at her house. Well, actually all the next weeks, but that is beside the point.”

  “You mean she wants you to work there full-time?” Selma stared at her cousin.

  “Yes, that she does.”

  “But I thought . . .”

  “Me too, but she has changed her mind. She promised that I could come home for special events and I will have
two days off every other week. George will provide the transportation, but she doesn’t want him and the team out in bitter cold or stormy weather any more than necessary.”

  Signe sighed and shook her head. “On one hand, I am so pleased for you, and on the other . . .”

  “Me too.” Selma looked over her shoulder. “Coming, Tante Gerd.” She patted Nilda’s arm. “We will talk more later.”

  “This is a disappointment. A big disappointment.” Nilda hung her head. “But she did say I could invite my family to visit, just preferably not all at once. Ivar will come into town for the socials when the weather permits.”

  Signe dropped her voice. “Have you heard any more about Dreng?”

  “Oh yes. He is the darling of the fashionable ladies. Two of Mrs. Schoenleber’s good friends were raving about him. I nearly choked.”

  “Did you tell them about the real Dreng Nygaard?”

  Nilda shook her head. “No, but Mrs. Schoenleber picked up on my feelings and said we would talk about it when I get back to her house.”

  “How long will you be home?”

  “Until Tuesday. But I will be at the church next Sunday. I told Selma that I would stand up for her, and I will.” She paused. “Who do you suppose will stand up for Mr. Kielund?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Chapter

  21

  Oskar, I would be delighted to stand up for you. And honored.”

  “Thank you. I have no family in this area, and in these past weeks, you all have made me feel like part of your family.”

  Rune reminded himself to answer. This had caught him by surprise. A good kind of surprise. Surely in the years Oskar had lived here, he had made friends at church, but what did that matter? Signe would be as pleased to hear this as he was. Family. They were indeed growing a family here in Minnesota.

  “Will it be good with you if we have a celebration dinner here at our house after the ceremony? We could invite others if you want.”

  “That sounds like a lot of extra work for the women. I mean, I am grateful and all, but . . .”

  “Oh, I have a feeling plans are already underway, we men just haven’t heard about them yet.” Rune clapped Oskar on the back. “Are you sure you want to take the time to help us fell those trees?”

  “Well, it’s a trade, and good trades are good for both people. I only have a few trees left. I’m going to leave a couple standing, and right now is a slow season for me, so it just makes good sense.”

  How Rune appreciated the words makes good sense. “See you after breakfast, then.”

  “And the children won’t be a bother? Or we could wait until after the wedding.”

  “Just more time for them to feel like part of the family. If you haven’t noticed, they already have grandparents and aunts and uncles here.” They settled the last of the sides of hogs in the wagon for Oskar and Rune to deliver to the meat market in Blackduck.

  “Looks like it might snow finally.” Oskar climbed up onto the wagon seat while Rune slung the horse blankets over the load. “I’ll be switching to the sledge real soon.”

  At the house they picked up a basket with hot rocks and a jug of hot coffee and headed out. They planned to return with lumber for the addition to the workshop. The machinery was now under a shed roof while the machine shop was being fully enclosed and floored so they could work on more skis and furniture.

  “I told the boys to work in the shop, but they insisted on the woods. We have three trees on the ground that need to be limbed and pulled over to the stack.”

  “They are hard workers, those two.”

  Rune smiled. “Ja. They’re happy out in the woods. I never thought I would say that about Ivar. Bjorn took to it like a pro right from the beginning. But Ivar is too.”

  “In spite of Einar Strand?”

  “Shame, that. He sure knew his woods and trees and taught us well.”

  Oskar stared at the road ahead. “I offered to haul logs for him, and he threatened me with his shotgun if I set foot on his place again.”

  “You and everyone else. But we are grateful he brought us here and then Ivar and Nilda too. New lives for all of us.”

  “And Mrs. Strand too?”

  “Gerd Strand most of all. It’s strange how a sour attitude sinks right into a person, but happy seems to bounce off. She was a grumpy hermit when we came. I give the victory to Signe. Her patience and love won Gerd over. Then, when Einar died, Gerd”—Rune sought the right word—“blossomed. That’s it. Blossomed.”

  Rune thought happy thoughts all the way into Blackduck. The snow started just as they reached the meat market in town.

  “You got any more at your place?” the butcher asked.

  “No,” Rune replied, “this is the last for this year.”

  “Put me at the top of your list for next year. These are of fine quality. Firm but not tough and nicely marbled. How many sows you got?”

  “Four, and we’re raising two more gilts.”

  “You ever thought of putting heat in your barn and raising market hogs year-round?”

  “Not really. We need someplace to store the feed. We can’t raise enough corn for many more hogs. But thanks.”

  The man handed him a white cloth bag. “Here, try our sausage. We’re getting orders from stores in Minneapolis, even. We just need more hogs and casings. Did you keep yours?”

  “Only enough for what sausage we made.”

  The butcher nodded. “Well, save me your casings too, if you would. I’ll pay well if they’re clean.”

  “Thank you.” Rune and Oskar climbed back up on the wagon seat.

  They loaded quickly at the lumberyard and headed out of town. The ground was now white, and the snow was falling harder. By the time they made it to Benson’s Corner, the snow on the road was a couple of inches deep.

  Oskar drove his horses into Rune’s yard, and Rune climbed down. “It will take some time to unload. How about leaving your wagon here and hitching up to ours so you can get home faster?”

  Oskar nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. Thank you.” They hitched the horses to the other wagon, Signe hustled the Kielund children out to him, insisting he take quilts to put around them, and down the lane they trotted, disappearing into the snow curtain before they reached the curve.

  “I hope they let school out early,” Signe said, glancing at the clock. “Two o’clock, and it is already getting dark. Are you sure it was a good idea to let Mr. Kielund head home?”

  “He has animals to take care of. But those boys better be getting in from the woods.”

  Rufus leaped off the porch and barked his way toward the road.

  “Ah, good. That’s got to be Rosie and the boys.” Signe stared out the window in the door. “You can’t see much beyond the porch.”

  “I’m going to the barn to help with chores. Good thing we got those ropes strung.” Out on the porch, Rune waited for Rosie and her riders to appear through the snow curtain. “You two get in the house and get warmed up. I’ll let the cattle and horses in.” He took Rosie’s reins and let her lead him to the barn. The cattle were bellowing, and the resting team nickered. “I know, that’s what I’m here for,” he told them.

  All he had to do was open the doors, and the cows and heifers filed in, then the horses, all going directly to their stalls and stanchions. At the opening of their gate, the sheep filed over to the hayrack attached to the wall and began pulling out hay, munching as if they did this every day.

  A thought grabbed Rune. “What will we do when the flock grows? We hardly have winter room for everyone as it is. Talk about a full barn!” He climbed the ladder to the haymow and forked down enough hay for the horses and cattle.

  “Far?”

  “Up here.” The welcome sound of Bjorn’s voice made Rune smile. All would be well; all the flock was home. Kielund would be home before long, and Nilda was safe at Mrs. Schoenleber’s. “Thank you, Lord.” The prayer floated on wings of gratitude. He could not begin to count all th
e things he was thankful for.

  “You coming down or taking a nap up there?” Leave it to Ivar.

  “I learned a long time ago that a haymow is a good place for thinking.”

  “Really? Is it the smell of hay or because you are high up or . . . ?”

  “Perhaps because it is one of the few places I get to be alone.” Rune swung around the ladder post and backed down. The ping of milk into a pail told him someone was milking, and he could hear Leif talking to one of the cows. His son carried on conversations with all the animals as well as the people around him. Rune would swear the animals answered as much as the humans.

  There was something immensely satisfying and calming about a barn in the winter, like a world apart. The cat wound herself around his ankles and chirped up at him.

  “You ready to move back to the house and leave your children out here to deal with the rats and the mice? You’ve done a fine job, yourself.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Bjorn paused from carrying buckets of water to the horses.

  Rune shrugged. “Just the cat.”

  Bjorn gave him the same look he gave Leif. “Like father, like son?”

  Rune cuffed him on the shoulder. “Thanks for watering the horses.”

  “We’re supposed to be talking English.” Bjorn snorted and lifted a bucket in for Rosie. “Not much for you yet, girl.” He lifted his voice. “Hey, Ivar, bring a brush and a gunnysack over here. We need to dry her off.”

  Once all the animals were taken care of, Rune waited at the door. “We’ll stop by the shop and unload that lumber before we head for the house. Ivar, bring that broom so we can sweep off the snow.”

  With all of them working, unloading didn’t take long, even when they swept the boards again as they stacked them off to the side, getting them as close to dry as they could.

  “Are we coming out here after supper, Far?” Leif asked.

  “Why?”

  “So I can put another layer of wax on my skis. It looks like we might need them by morning.”

  “If it keeps up all night, maybe you’ll have no school,” Rune said.

  “Ha! Dreamer. They never close school here.” Knute pulled his gloves back on. “I’m taking some of those rabbit skins to the house. I wish Tante Nilda was here to help me make more mittens.”