The beans baking in the oven flavored the room, but they wouldn’t be done until supper. No bread, but a half full pan of gingerbread would work if he cut the pieces smaller than usual. That and the cookies in the cookie jar. Andrew glanced around looking for anything else. Mor would have had bread rising while she and Astrid washed the clothes. Today she would have hung the clean clothes on the porch or left them in the basket to hang when the rain ceased. He glanced outside to see fat drops plopping into the mud puddles. White lightning forked—it and the thunder had moved farther east, leaving a steady rainfall to nourish the earth.
“You can hear the ground sighing in appreciation.” Haakan stood just behind Andrew’s shoulder.
“Mor always says the trees clap their branches and leaves for joy when the rain comes.”
“She’s right. I’ve heard them.”
Andrew’s smile tripped on a sigh. “I can’t wait until Mor gets home.”
“Ja. The house just gets all cold and lonesome without her.”
Is that what being married is like—even the house knows when the wife is not there? Andrew never had liked empty houses. They didn’t even smell right.
But the aroma of boiling coffee smelled like life itself. The crackle of wood in the stove, the laughter of the men settling around the table, all spoke of home and friends who pitched in to work together—and when the rare times came for play, knew how to do that too.
In my house one day, I want this, with Ellie cooking and making us all feel welcome. Even when we come home in the middle of the morning because we got rained out. Please, God, make my mor all right again. Andrew took another sip of coffee. Ellie had asked him if he prayed about things. He’d not answered her. But I do, he thought. And I think I’ve been doing so more often.
“I should be at home baking bread,” Ingeborg said. She’d spent a whole week under the watchful eye of her daughter-in-law.
“You must be feeling better.” Elizabeth checked her patient’s pulse. “Time for your medicine again, and if we don’t see a new surge of bleeding, you can go home tonight, but with strict orders to take it easy.”
“Ma doesn’t know how to take it easy. You better tell her exactly.” Astrid looked up from the log cabin quilt block she was piecing.
“Astrid.” Ingeborg stared at her daughter.
“Well, you wanted to be home making bread, and while I set the beans to baking, you would find all kinds of other things to do.” She flinched. “Ouch.” She stuck her finger in her mouth so as not to spot her block with a drop of blood.
“What is wrong with that?”
“Tante Kaaren and I have been doing it and can continue to do so for as long as needed. I started the supper. I’ll go home and bake some molasses bread to go with the beans, and there is gingerbread for dessert. I took care of it all, except I didn’t do the wash. It looked like rain.” She nodded to the water dripping off everything out of doors.
“I’m sorry, Astrid, for not being more grateful. Just this lying around makes me feel like a useless old woman.”
“Mor!”
“Don’t worry, Astrid. Being sick does that to people who usually take care of everyone else.” Elizabeth held out a cup. “Drink this.”
“It tastes terrible.”
“I know. I made it that way just for you. For others I might add honey.” Elizabeth’s lips curled upward.
“What is in it?”
“I’ll give you the list of ingredients one of these days. A doctor should have some secrets, don’t you think?”
Ingeborg swallowed and made a face that made Astrid snicker.
Over in the corner in a basket baby Inga woke up, stretching and making little noises that told them she’d be ready to eat soon. When she was ready to eat, if her mother wasn’t right there, the whole world, or at least those in this house, would know of her displeasure.
“I’ll change her.” Astrid put her sewing down and went to pick up the baby.
“When the day comes that you have your first baby, you’ll be such a good little mother.” Elizabeth sat down in the chair Astrid had vacated and began to unbutton her waist.
“Could I rock her when you finish feeding her?” Ingeborg asked.
“I think so, but we don’t want the flow to start up again. Although by now all the medications should keep that from happening.” They smiled at each other, listening to Astrid coo and talk with the baby.
“She is as good with babies as Andrew is with the animals.”
“Speaking of Andrew, when will Ellie be coming?”
“I’m not sure. She had to stay for a party the church ladies were giving for her.”
“How nice. Speaking of parties, how’s the wedding-ring quilt coming?”
“The frame is set up at the Solbergs’. Anyone who can find time to stop in and work on it is welcome. That’s another thing I should be doing.”
“Ingeborg, you are forty-two years old. You don’t have to do everything for everyone anymore.”
“Now you sound like a doctor.”
“I am a doctor.”
The wail preceded Astrid’s entry with the baby. “She sure gets upset when she can’t eat immediately.”
“She’s a little pig.” Elizabeth set her daughter to nursing and flipped the baby blanket over her shoulder.
The bell on the surgery door chimed.
“Oh no. Why does this always happen?”
“I’ll go.” Astrid whirled out the door before Elizabeth could even respond.
“She is such a good help. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Elizabeth leaned her head against the back of the chair and set it in motion with her foot. The squeak of the rocker and the nuzzle and slurp of the nursing child sang of comfort and home in the quiet room. “Between her and Thelma we manage.”
Ingeborg settled into her pillows, her eyes drifting closed again. My word, she thought, I sleep both night and day. What would my mor say if she saw me like this?
She heard Astrid whisper to Elizabeth but faded out before the answer.
Sometime later Ingeborg sat in the chair, rocking the baby and telling her how much God loved her, as did her bestemor. “She smiled at me.”
Astrid nodded. “She likes to smile. Soon she’ll be answering you. I think she’ll be a chatterbox.”
“You talk like the two of you have been sharing secrets already.”
“Remember Penny’s Linnea? She acted just like this one. That’s how I know. And Gustaf would hardly smile for the longest time. He’s still all serious.”
“You’re right. Astrid, you are so observant for someone your age.”
“I must be related to you and Thorliff.”
“Is he done with the paper?”
“Not quite. He said he should have the press running this evening. He had something to fix on it again. That press is broken down more than it is running.” Astrid peered out the window. “It looks like the rain finally stopped. I better get on home and get the supper on the table. Andrew came by while you were sleeping, said the house is lonely for you.”
“Well, I’m lonely to be there too. Tell your pa to come get me after supper. And you better go get Elizabeth before you leave. Her daughter is screwing up her face and making sucking motions again.”
“Bye, Mor. I’ll see you at home.” Astrid kissed her mother goodbye and headed for the kitchen, where Thelma had started making supper.
“Why don’t you bring your baked beans over here, and we can all have supper together?” Elizabeth asked.
“I think the men will want to stay close to home so Andrew can head right back to the barn.” Just then a howl made them both smile. “You better go see to Inga.”
“It seems that all I do is nurse this baby and take care of patients.” Elizabeth was settled in the rocker, with Ingeborg sitting up in the bed, pillows propped behind her against the headboard.
“I should be out there helping Thelma make supper at least.”
Elizabeth rolled her
eyes. “I have it all ready for whenever Thorliff manages to fix that machine and come home to eat.”
“Haakan said he would go look at it one of these days.”
“How could he fix a machine he’s never worked with?”
“I don’t know, but he has a gift for understanding machines. When I was having trouble with my sewing machine, he studied it, took it all apart, cleaned and oiled it and fixed a spring, and it’s worked fine ever since. He’d never sewed on it, mind you, but he figured out what each piece did and put them all back together right.” Ingeborg picked up the quilt block that Astrid had been piecing and, laying two edges together, began to weave the needle in and out of the material and pulling the thread through.
“Your stitches are so perfect. Why is it that I can sew just fine on people, but give me two pieces of cotton and one always ends up longer than the other. And the stitches make up their own design.”
“I don’t know. I’ve seen your human handiwork. It hardly leaves a scar.”
With a needle and thread in her hands, Ingeborg felt like she was accomplishing something at least. “I have a question.”
“It must be medical if you feel the need to ask.”
“It is. Do all women in the change of life get crabby and short of temper?”
“Not all, but many. Why?”
“I’ve never been so cantankerous in my life. I remember when I was in the pit, that was bad, but I didn’t want to bite someone’s head off.” Especially not my husband’s.
“This too shall pass.”
“I surely hope so. I don’t suppose you have a receipt for a grumpy woman?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “If I could come up with something like that, I’d be the richest woman around. Every man would come to me and purchase it for his wife. Let’s see, we could call it Dr. Bjorklund’s Happy Medicine.”
“Or Dr. Bjorklund’s Better Way.”
“Dr. Bjorklund’s Guaranteed Bliss.” The two laughed again.
“Now that is a good sound to come home to.” Thorliff stopped in the doorway. “Do you mind if a mere man enters the sickroom, which, by the way, doesn’t sound sick at all.”
“The room isn’t the sick one. Your mother is, and she’s getting well.”
Thorliff chuckled and shook his head. “I know how to make my mother well. Buy her a few more cows so she can work harder in the cheese house.”
“Thorliff, what a thing to say.” Elizabeth held the baby to her shoulder and patted her back for a big burp.
“She burps as loud as a drunken logger.”
“Thorliff Bjorklund, what a thing to say about your dear little daughter.” Ingeborg stared at her son, her mouth half open.
“Dear demanding little daughter.” He glanced down at his hands. “I better go scrub again. How long until supper?”
“Ten minutes. I just need to serve it.” Elizabeth handed the baby to Ingeborg. “If you will rock her back to sleep, I’ll set three places. You can join us in the dining room for supper, and if everything goes well, I’m sending you home.”
“Good.” Ingeborg threw back the sheet with her free hand and, cradling the baby in her other arm, took over the rocker. At least Elizabeth had allowed her to get dressed.
Amazing that her daughter-in-law could give her orders and she obeyed. But fainting and bleeding like that? She shook her head. Never again. Please, Lord, never again. She felt the two stitches under her chin. And to think she’d fainted in church. Uff da.
“I’LL COME BACK to visit, and you can come to Blessing.” Ellie hugged her mother.
“I know that, but we won’t see you for months at a time.” Goodie wiped her eyes again. “I was hoping you would wait until Hans came home.”
“But he won’t be here until July. I have to be with Andrew to help put the house up and take care of my garden.” And if I don’t see Andrew pretty soon, I think I’ll just faint away.
Ellie hugged Rachel and then Arne. “Now, you behave yourselves, and no more falling out of trees, Rachel.”
Rachel stared at her bare toes. The cast on her right arm gleamed white in the sunlight. “I won’t.”
“Of course, that means you can’t climb them, at least not until the cast comes off.” Ellie grinned at her pained look. She knew the accident had scared her cousin pretty badly—for a while. Rachel had come screaming into the house, clutching the broken arm to her chest. Goodie had splinted it, and they made a trip to the doctor. He’d set the arm, put on a cast, and warned the little girl that if she fell on it, there would be real trouble.
Handing her little brother back to Goodie, Ellie watched while Olaf and one of his workmen took her trunks from the wagon. The crate of chickens was the last to be unloaded. The rooster crowed as if in defiance of the indignities imposed upon him. Sometimes she felt the same. None of this had gone the way she and Andrew had dreamed and planned. Her mother had reminded her that God’s plans were not our plans but His were always for our good.
She tried to concentrate on finding the good in the plans while Rachel strangled her middle and cried into her traveling dress. “Shh now. It will be all right. Once we have our house and after the wedding, you can come visit.”
“But then there will be school, and I’ll never get to see you.” Rachel looked up with a tear-stained face. “Besides, it will never be the same again.”
“No, it won’t. But if what Ma says is true, and we know God’s Word is true, it will be better.” Please, Lord, help me believe that right now. I thought we were doing right, but this is so hard. I could stay here for the rest of the summer, but Andrew wants me there. I feel like I’m being ripped in half.
The train chugged into the station, the wheels screeching as the engineer braked to a stop. After several people stepped down to the plank platform, the conductor helped a lady up the steps, then looked toward the Wolds.
“Time to board.”
Ellie sucked in a deep breath, kissed Arne and Rachel one last time, and hugged her mother. “I’ll write.”
“I know. We will too.”
“All your things are loaded.” Olaf stopped at her side.
“Thank you, Pa.”
“I’ll bring your furniture in time for the wedding.”
“How can I ever thank you enough?”
“Just love that young man and never turn your back on our Lord. That’s all I ask.”
“I will.” She rested in his loving arms for a moment longer, then took a deep breath and stepped back. “I love you all.” She turned and took the hand the conductor offered to help her up the steep steps. At the top she waved again, seeing them all through the sheen of moisture that threatened at any moment to overflow. She found a window seat on their side so she could wave again and smile bravely, but all she wanted to do was plaster her nose to the glass and let the tears flow.
The conductor called, “All aboard,” and the train pulled slowly from the station, each turn of the mighty wheels taking her farther from this family and closer to the next. Was life always like this? Leaving and arriving? She mopped her face and collapsed against the back of the seat with a sigh that drained the starch from her shoulders and added a quiver to her lips.
“Lord, keep them safe,” she whispered into her handkerchief, then dried her eyes again. Would the well of tears never dry up?
The clackety clack of the wheels lulled her into somnolence, her eyes and nose burned from all the wiping, and her mind floated, drifting between Grafton and Blessing, flashing vignettes of her two lives onto the backs of her eyelids. Laughing and playing with Astrid, Sophie, and Grace those years before; sewing with her mother, then teaching Rachel; sitting in the Grafton church with the sun streaming through the stained-glass windows, reminding her of the beauty of heaven; studying in the one-room school of Blessing, listening to Pastor Solberg read to them from Pilgrim’s Progress, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, stories from the Bible, and Robinson Crusoe.
Sometimes she felt like a young lady, and other times she wan
ted to hide behind her mother’s skirts. Hide yourself in me. The words kept time with the train wheels. Hide yourself in me. She knew where the words came from, but why now? Why did she need a hiding place? She was on her way to living her dream of being with Andrew. Lord, I love him. I’ve always loved him. You say there is no fear in love, but there is. Perfect love casts out all fear. What if I have a baby born dead?What if I can’t have any babies? Perfect love. Only you have perfect love.Oh, please teach me to love the way you love. Thou who art the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the one who never changes. The rock- ing of the train carried her into a sleep that allowed the healing of her tear-swollen eyes and raw throat.
She woke as the train slowed, the conductor stopping by her seat. “Your stop, miss. Blessing.”
“Already?” She stretched and hid a yawn behind her gloved hand. She touched her hair to make sure it was still tucked under her hat and repinned the straw to straighten it.
“You look lovely, miss. I know your young man will be overjoyed to see you.”
“You know Andrew?”
“Of course. I’ve had this run for years. Many a meal I’ve enjoyed at the boardinghouse. Henry and I go way back.”
“Oh.”
He tipped his hat. “You take care now, and welcome back to Blessing.”
Andrew was standing on the platform, tall, tanned, and studying each window. She waved, and he broke into a smile that blew away all her doubts and fears. Andrew was waiting for her. She picked up her valise and looped her reticule over her wrist.Welcome to Blessing, indeed.
She never took her eyes off his as the conductor helped her down the stairs and reached in for her valise and set it on the platform. But instead of flying into his arms like she’d dreamed of, she walked straight and sure, treasuring the way his smile creased his cheeks, glinted from his eyes, eyes that matched the sky above, a Dakota sky of a blue that deepened the more you looked into it.
“Ah, Ellie.” His chin quivered, and he blinked once to clear the moisture that made her sniff as her own eyes needed clearing too. She stepped into his arms and sighed.
A Promise for Ellie Page 13