“I will be, Astrid. I will be.” If I could only touch the hem of his garment. . . . Tears burned at the back of her eyes and made her nose run. Blinking quickly like a young girl batting her eyes at a suitor, she sniffed and reached for one of the cast-iron frying pans hanging on hooks behind the stove. “We’d best hurry or we won’t be ready when they come in.” Useless words to cover up the gnawing tiger she felt inside. She’d thought of asking Bridget about this time of life, but nothing ever seemed to faze her mother-in-law. If only she could ask her own mother, but a letter more than a year ago informed her that her mor had died one night in her sleep at the ripe old age of seventynine. Women in the Strand family lived a good long time. Her far had died years earlier.
If only she could have come to this country too and seen how good we have it here. That thought only made her want to sniff again. For Astrid’s sake she had to quit acting strange.
She was forced to go change again once before the men came in and again before she climbed up into the buggy for the drive to church.
Perhaps I should knit myself some wool soakers like we use for the babies. The thought made her smile. Haakan reached over and patted her hand. Was he watching her all the time?
Henry and Bridget came walking up to the church at the same time they tied up the horses at the hitching rail.
“God dag.” Bridget’s smile revealed two missing teeth, but she didn’t let that keep her from a cheerful greeting. Henry nodded and, like all the men, removed his hat when he entered the church.
“Why is it, Mor, that the men take off their hats for church and women make sure they wear one?” Astrid had always asked questions with difficult or no answers. She was wearing a straw hat that she would change the ribbons on to match whatever she was wearing. Today the deep rose of the ribbons matched the trim on her dimity dress and the ribbon that circled her trim waist.
Haakan would be frowning at more than one young man today, for more and more of them were noticing his daughter, especially the sons of the German family that had moved into the old Peterson place south of town. Their eyes nearly popped out of their heads when the twins joined Astrid and the three sat together, rather than with their families.
When Heinrich, the eldest of the brothers, caught Ingeborg’s watchful eye, he blushed, red as the radishes that grew in her garden. As soon as Ingeborg sat down next to Kaaren, the two women glanced at each other and shared a mother smile. She’d noticed too.
The Valderses came in with only Gerald accompanying them. Mary Martha Solberg shushed her brood into the row in front of them. Anji, now Mrs. Moen, handed her nearly two-year-old son to one of his older stepsisters and smiled across the aisle at Ingeborg. From the looks of her dress, Anji would soon be a candidate for Dr. Elizabeth’s ministrations. Thorliff and Elizabeth took their places, their tiny daughter soundly sleeping in her mother’s arms.
Ah, Lord, please oversee all these your children, the young growing up so fast, the old feeling their years. And I pray for me that I manage to make it home without embarrassing myself or anyone else.
“Good morning this blessed Lord’s day.” Reverend Solberg, wearing the new stole Ingeborg, Astrid, and several others had stitched in honor of the graduating class, smiled across his congregation. “Let us open with hymn number forty-three—‘Holy, Holy, Holy.’ ” He nodded to the young woman who had taken Elizabeth’s place at the piano since the coming of the baby.
The congregation stood and raised their voices in four-part harmony, the sound of which always gave Ingeborg the shivers. Surely that was a foretaste of the heavenly choir.
After the sermon Pastor Solberg announced that the Bjorklund baby would be baptized next Sunday. Ingeborg smiled to herself. She’d almost finished sewing the baby’s dress, fussing over the lace on the tiny cap and the hem of the long garment.
“Thanks to all of you who helped out at the barn raising yesterday, and to those who can, we’ll be putting up the rafters today.” He glanced around the room. “Now if there are no more announcements, we’ll close with ‘Blest Be the Tie That Binds,’ number three hundred twenty-three. Let us stand.”
At the opening chords Ingeborg stood with the rest of those gathered, felt a gush, blinked, and tried to catch her breath. The room swirled, and before she could grab Haakan’s arm, she crumpled to the floor. She barely felt the slam of her chin on the back of the pew in front of her before her world went totally black.
She came to with her head in Astrid’s lap, Haakan patting her hand, and Elizabeth unbuttoning the top buttons of her waist.
“Welcome back.” Elizabeth smiled.
“What happened?”
“You fainted. I believe you and I should have a talk.”
“We tried to get her to go see you.” Astrid smoothed a wisp of hair from her mother’s cheek.
“Let’s get you to my surgery, and—”
“No, I . . .” Ingeborg cleared her throat and closed her eyes when the faces above her faded in and out. She started again, in a whisper this time. “I want to go home.”
Haakan scooped her up in his arms. “I’m sorry, but this time the decision is out of your stubborn hands. We are going to the surgery.” By the time he set her in the buggy, leaning her against Astrid, he had to stop to catch his breath.
Foolish man. You’re not the stalwart young buck who used to carry me around like I weighed a hundred pounds. But Ingeborg kept the thought to herself, enjoying a rush of good feelings that made her even dizzier.
Haakan turned to Andrew. “You go on over to the barn with the others. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Kaaren patted Ingeborg’s hand. “Don’t worry about feeding the builders. We’ll all take care of that.”
Ingeborg nodded and let her eyes close again, which they seemed to demand. The buggy shifted as Haakan climbed in and backed the team.
“You tell me if you need to stop.”
“You’re not carrying me into the surgery, so don’t even consider it.” She tried to put some steel in her voice but knew her words came out like a mewling kitten.
Once he’d stopped the team at the side door of the house that led to the surgery, Haakan and Thorliff locked hands and carried Ingeborg in together. They laid her on a bed, and when they stepped back, Ingeborg could have melted through the mattress in mortification. Both their hands and shirt cuffs were stained with her blood.
“Now don’t you go fretting on me,” Elizabeth ordered. “You men go wash off and go on out to finish raising that barn. We’ll be fine here.”
“Are you sure?” Haakan looked nearly as white as his wife. “She’s not going to bleed to death, now, is she?” His voice quivered on the last words.
“No. I know how to take care of this. You men go on.”
Haakan took his wife’s hand and looked into her eyes. “You vill listen to her?”
Ingeborg could tell how upset he was just by the deepening of his accent.
After the men left Elizabeth shook her head at her mother-inlaw. “You should have told me before church how bad it was.”
“I thought I was through with all this, but it started again yesterday. Worse than I’ve ever had. I was wishing Metiz were here to help me. I’m sure I have something that will—”
Elizabeth laid a gentle finger on her mother-in-law’s lips. “Who was here to help me give birth to my beautiful little daughter?”
“That was different.”
“Not a lot if we’re to get to the bottom of this.”
Ingeborg felt another gush of the wet warmth, as though her entire insides were flowing out. She watched carefully as Elizabeth took pestle and mortar, dropped several spoonfuls and pinches of something into the bowl, and began to mash them together. I’ve seen women bleed out after childbirth. I’ve had to stanch the flow—and failed.Lord, if she doesn’t come up with something that works, will I lie here and bleed to death? The thought brought another rush, this time to her eyes. I’m not ready to die.
Dear
Ellie,
I know you believe you have good reasons for not coming when you said you would. You felt you had to stay in Grafton, but I can’t tell you how much I miss you. I wish you could have been here to see our barn go up—we’re putting on the siding now, and the boys are spending every moment splitting shakes. Until I saw it up, I didn’t realize how big it would be and how many shakes it would take to cover that roof.We are working as many hours as there are light, for haying will soon be upon us. Trygve is getting really good with a hammer. He said he’d rather pound nails than split shakes any day of the week.
Ellie reread the first lines. Andrew was angry that she hadn’t come back to Blessing. The nerve. Had he no idea how difficult this was for her? After all, he didn’t have to leave his family behind. She read the lines again. It’s a good thing you’re not here right now, or I’d tell you exactly what I think. She continued reading.
My sow ended up with twelve piglets. Astrid tried saving the runt, but he died during the night. I warned her not to get too attached to him, but you know Astrid. Other than you, there is none more tenderhearted.
Ellie stopped reading and watched Rachel swinging on the swing at the schoolhouse. They’d stopped by there on their way home from the post office. As if anyone could be more tenderhearted than Andrew.
I thought you were mad at him.
I am.
She remembered the time she fell and ripped her leg open on a stick. He’d held her hand and cried with her while Ingeborg stitched her up. Then while she’d had to lie with it up on pillows with hot poultices to stave off the infection, he’d read to her and brought her cookies. No wonder she loved him so. She’d always loved him. At the thought of love, her mind flitted back to the kiss that changed her world. The now familiar heat started in her middle and crept up to her face, forcing her to use the letter as a fan. She smoothed the sheet of paper and started to read again. Oh, Andrew, how I miss you. She almost chuckled. She was mad one minute, pie-eyed the next.
“Look at me!” Rachel called. “See how high I can go.”
Ellie dutifully looked up, knowing that if she didn’t, Rachel would keep after her until she did. She caught herself from saying, “You be careful now.” She would sound just like her mother. Not that her mother sounded bad, but she did have a tendency to worry. She reread the part about Astrid being tenderhearted and smiled again. My dear, dear Andrew.
We are going to have to make up our minds on the colors of paint. We can paint the house and barn to match—not red for both—or paint the house white, the barn red, or paint both white with colored trim. I’m partial to a red barn myself, but as Mor has said more than once, “A man is wise who defers to his wife at times.”
Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you that Mor fainted in church last Sunday. She is staying over at Elizabeth’s surgery for a while. I think Dr. Elizabeth just doesn’t trust her to stay off her feet. This way she can make sure. That gave us all a bad scare, but they say it is nothing time won’t take care of. Far as I can tell, that means some female something they don’t want to talk about in front of the menfolk.
Ellie tried to swallow. Not Ingeborg. Please, God, make her well again.
I’d best get to bed so I can be up early to check on the barn before milking. We had a big windstorm Saturday night when we had the barn frame only partially up. You can imagine my relief when I went out there before sunrise and saw that it was still standing.
That is all the news I can think of. I am counting the days until you come back here where you belong.
All my love,
Your Andrew
Ellie dabbed at her eyes. All his love. And yes, he was hers.
Rachel dropped down on the grass beside her. “I made a line to mark how far I jumped when the swing was still high enough to give me a good push.”
“If you break your leg, I won’t be here to take care of you, so you might want to be a bit careful.” There, she’d given a remonstrance without sounding like her mother.
“Pish fish, I won’t break my leg.” Rachel held one straight out and pumped it up and down. “Harold sprained his ankle real bad jumping off their barn roof. He thought the sheet he tied to his suspenders would help him fly.”
“It didn’t, I take it.”
“Nope.”
Ellie tucked the letter into her pocket. “I’m going to spend the afternoon sewing your dress. You need to stay around so I can try it on you.”
“All right.” Rachel stretched the words out on a prolonged sigh.
“If you’d rather sew it yourself . . ?”
“I helped you cut it out.”
“That you did. When I’m ready, you can help me hem it too.”
Since her mother was so busy with Arne, Ellie had been teaching Rachel to sew, just as Goodie had taught her, starting with hemming dish towels and napkins. When the young girl paid attention, her stitches were very neat and tiny.
Although, if Ellie thought about it, hers were that way when she was ten. She’d started learning to sew at five at her mother’s side. Ellie stood and reached down to take Rachel’s hand. “Come along. We should have brought Arne with us to play in the park.”
“Tante Goodie said that Hans is coming home for a visit.”
“He was coming for my wedding, but I forgot to write and tell him it was postponed. By the time our wedding comes around he’ll be back in college again. One more year, and he’ll graduate.”
“I don’t want to go back to school.”
“Whyever not?”
“That mean Claus—he stuck my braid in the inkwell.”
“That’s because he likes you.”
Rachel stopped walking and stared up at Ellie openmouthed, horror filling her round blue eyes. “Likes me? He hates me.”
Ellie took her hand again. “We’ll see.”
“Are you excited for the party tomorrow?”
“Yes, are you?”
The women of the church were giving a party for Ellie. She didn’t know what to expect, but she was looking forward to the gathering.
By evening Ellie had Rachel’s dress ready to be hemmed, so she stood her cousin on a box to mark the hem.
“You cut it long enough so you can put in a deep hem that we can let down.” Goodie kept the knitting needles flying while she watched Ellie and Rachel. “Land sakes, that child is sprouting up right before our eyes.”
“Of course, Ma. Three inches, at least.” Ellie folded the hem up to show the depth and took another pin from her mouth to pin the hem in place.
“You be careful you don’t go swallowing one of them pins, missy.”
Ellie rolled her eyes and made Rachel giggle.
“That’s what pincushions are for.”
“Could you move that lamp a bit closer to the edge of the table, please?” Ellie asked.
Goodie did so and nodded her approval. “You look nice in that dress, Rachel. Make sure you don’t outgrow it before school starts.”
“Tante Goodie, I’m not growing that fast.”
Ellie’s mind flipped back through the years, hearing her mother say the same things to her. Was that what having children of your own was like? Replaying your own childhood over again but from a different angle? Was that how one learned to live and love, by watching those ahead and doing what they did? But things were changing, and how did one learn to make wise choices? She knew if she asked her mother, she would say that you had to depend on the only source of real wisdom—God’s Word—and you must ask for His help and listen for His answers.
Ellie slipped the last pin in place and stood to help Rachel step down without dislodging any of the pins. “I’ll iron that in, and then we can begin hemming it. Oh, pish fish”—she grinned at her cousin—“I forgot to put the sadirons on to heat.”
Rachel walked carefully into her aunt’s bedroom to take off her dress. “I’ll put them on as soon as we’re done here.” She stood perfectly still while Ellie lifted the dress over her head, only snagging one pin on her hai
r.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.” Ellie untangled it and hung the dress on a hanger.
“This is such a pretty dress.” Rachel stroked the red and white gingham, trimmed with a white collar and cuffs on the sleeves.
“We need to make you some warmer ones for winter.” Ellie found a thread hanging and took the scissors out of her apron pocket to cut it.
“I’ll never get my sweater all knitted.”
“I’ll help.”
“But you’re going to move away.”
Ellie nibbled on her lower lip. While going to Andrew was the dream of her life, leaving her family behind was getting to be a terrible wrench. She already felt it, like some part of her inside was being torn from the rest, leaving a suppurating wound. If only Pa hadn’t moved them to Grafton. It would be so much easier if they all still lived in Blessing.
She turned at the clang of the heavy flatirons hitting the stovetop. “Did you put fresh wood in first?”
“No.” Iron scraped on iron as Rachel pushed them back, opened the front lid and set it aside, then shook the grate and added more wood, setting the lid back in place and moving the flatirons forward to the hottest part of the stove again. Just listening to the familiar sounds made Ellie see what was going on. One day soon she would be the one doing all of this. Fixing the meals, baking, sweeping and scrubbing, putting by food for the winter.
“I hope Andrew is taking care of my garden.”
Olaf looked up from reading his paper. “If he is building the barn from dawn to dark, I doubt he has time for a garden.”
Ellie heaved a sigh. She would have to go before the weeds made it impossible for her vegetables to grow.
“Sure hope Andrew has built a coop for the chickens I promised you.” Goodie looked to Olaf. “Do we have a crate for them?”
“We will by tomorrow night. Shame you can’t get them there overnight so they don’t quit laying.”
A Promise for Ellie Page 11