They’d been lucky to get it.
He could have finished pouring the cellar walls had he been at home. Only half of one to finish. Patience. Easy to say and difficult to do—especially at a time like this.
“We’ll announce the house raising for Saturday, if that’s all right with you.” Haakan rode beside Andrew on one of the loaded hay wagons, pulling the mower behind.
Andrew grinned over his shoulder. “You mean it?”
“Ja, we got a break here. The wheat’s not ready yet.”
Andrew nodded. Do not leap off the wagon and run all the way home, he ordered himself. But three more days.
He glanced to the west to catch heat lightning fracturing the sky. “Storm’s coming.”
“I know. You can smell it. We sure need rain, but I’m hoping for a gentle two-day pour to water everything good.”
“But not knock all the wheat down.” Or hail. The last thing they needed right now was a hailstorm. They drove into the yard in front of his barn at the same time as the first drops fell. Thunder rolled far off, the earth grumbling for a faster drink.
“Let’s get as much up into the barn as we can.” Haakan swung down and unhitched the mower. “Take that team around to the back to pull the loads up.”
As soon as the prongs came within reach, Haakan sunk them into the hay and hollered, “Take her up!”
The first load shifted, then lifted in the giant teeth and creaked its way to the top pulley before whooshing into the loft. Andrew pulled the release line, the load dropped, and the prongs clanged together again as the ropes hummed to start all over again.
Miraculously, the rain held off after the first spatter. They emptied the one wagon, and the waiting team pulled the next wagon into place. Lightning flashed closer this time, and thunder waited before answering. But when it crashed instead of rumbled, Andrew knew it was close. He could see through the haymow door that the sky had darkened. Another load whooshed in and dropped.
The clouds opened and rain poured down. The men on the load straightened the hay as much as they could to provide run off and slid to the ground. They all gathered inside the barn door and watched.
“Most likely have to unload that and let it dry out.” Lars leaned against the doorjamb.
“I’m grateful it isn’t hailing.” Haakan took off his hat and lifted his face to the mist blowing in. “We’ll let it dry and restack it later. We can bring those two stacks home after harvest or during the winter. Be easy to do on the sledge.”
Leave it to Haakan, always putting the best face on things. Andrew studied his pa standing so easy in the doorway. Here he’d been thinking how bad it was the load was getting wet, and Haakan was counting his blessings—no hail, extra hay, they got most of it in, gardens needed rain. The rain let up as the thunder and lightning moved off to the east. They weren’t going to get the soaking they were hoping for. One of the horses snorted and stamped a foot.
“I’ll unhitch the team and take them on home.”
“Yeah, we’ll get the others.” Haakan stepped outside and looked to the west. “Might drizzle a bit longer, but the main storm’s beyond us. Let’s get going.”
If I’d gotten the corral built, they could stay here. Another one of those pesky ifs. He hooked the traces up on the rump pad and hupped the horses forward, away from the doubletree and wagon tongue.
“I’ve got the other team,” Trygve called from the back of the barn.
“Let’s go.”
Andrew swung up on one of his team. “Come on, Pa, let’s ride ’em home.”
“You think I’m too old to mount a horse anymore?” Haakan asked.
“Well?”
Haakan grabbed the horns on the collar and swung up. Or rather tried to. His feet slipped, and he straightened back up.
“You want a leg up?” Andrew grinned at his pa.
“Just give me a minute. I’ll make it.”
Lars rode up with the fourth team. “Need some help?”
Haakan glared at them both and swung again, this time hooking his heel in the rump pad and pulling himself up. “Gotten out of practice, I guess.”
“I guess so.” Andrew ducked as Haakan swatted at him with the end of the lines.
Three more days and they’d get the house up. Andrew glanced back over his shoulder. The half load of hay stood forlorn in front of the barn, the only indication someone would be living there soon, other than the hole in the ground with almost all the cellar walls in. For certain he wouldn’t be pouring cement tonight.
“Wonder if they started milking yet.” Haakan pulled his hat farther down on his head as the breeze kicked up.
While at first the rain had felt good, now Andrew shivered from the chilly wind. His shirt lay plastered to his skin. He nudged his team to a trot. “Come on, boys, let’s get on home.”
Three more days and the house goes up. His thoughts kept time with the clippety-clop of heavy hooves. Three more days and he’d see Ellie. Unless, of course, he unharnessed the team and rode one on into Blessing. But there were cows to milk. Always something needing doing. Keeping him away from Ellie.
The sun was out by the time they’d finished milking.
“Well, it was better than nothing,” Haakan said with a sigh, “but that didn’t do a whole lot more than wash the air clean.”
“At least it didn’t hail,” Andrew added, his thoughts jumping back to Ellie. What was she doing right now? Thinking of him as he was thinking of her?
I WONDER IF THEY GOT BACK from haying before the rain hit.
Ellie stared out at the rain-washed streets. It was well into July, and this was the first rain in over a month. Had it lasted long enough to do her garden much good? She’d not paid a lot of attention to the rain before, but she’d never had a garden of her own before either. Even though she’d helped her mother with the family garden, this was different. It was hers, or rather theirs. Hers and Andrew’s. She’d been out hoeing the corn the night before and picked the peas, although there weren’t enough to do more than eat right in the garden yet.
“Ellie, could you please take the cake out of the oven for me?” Penny called from the store.
“Of course.” Ellie plucked a straw from the broom and broke it into smaller pieces. Then opening the oven door, she stuck the bit of straw into the cake, which had risen nicely. Nothing on the straw when she checked it. Using her apron folded over to keep from burning her hand, she pulled the cake pan out and set it on the reservoir, then closed the oven door. She dug out the cooling rack and set the pan on it on the table. Ah, nothing smelled better than a cake just out of the oven, except perhaps bread or cookies, but right now the cake held her attention.
She slid the stew, which had been cooking on top of the stove, into the oven and started the biscuits. Since Hjelmer had left that morning for Bismarck, supper would be a more simple meal—chicken stew with a biscuit topping. The last of the strawberries would go over the cake.
“Ellie, will you fix Gertie?” Linnea held up the cloth doll her mother had made.
“What’s the matter?”
“Gustaf ate her eyes.”
“Ate them?”
“He said he did.”
“Tell him to come see me.”
The little girl scampered off.
Ellie stared at the doll. Sure enough, the button eyes were missing, and the yarn hair needed rebraiding.
When Gustaf charged into the kitchen, she held up the doll. “You didn’t really eat the buttons—did you?”
He stared at his big toe, then grinned up at her. He shook his head and dug into his pocket, producing the two buttons.
“So why tease her like that?”
He shrugged, his eyes big, and shook his head.
“Promise me you won’t tease her like that again.”
He sighed and twitched his mouth from side to side. “All right.”
“Go get my sewing kit and, to make her feel better, push her in the swing.”
“Do I haf
ta?”
“Yes. Perhaps it will help remind you to not tease your little sister.”
He gave her a kicked-puppy look, one he was very good at, and turned toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“To get your sewing box.”
“It’s in the parlor by the rocking chair. And when you get done swinging your sister, I need more wood in the woodbox. She can help you do that.” Ellie knew that would cheer him up. Any chance to boss his little sister made him puff up like a rooster. Most of the time she didn’t blame him for teasing Linnea. She always got really upset, fun for any older brother to see. Hans used to tease Ellie until Andrew told him he mustn’t do that anymore. Both Thorliff and Hans had teased Andrew for that, but he never backed down. Andrew—always her champion.
“Thank you.” She took the sewing box and, after laying biscuits on top of the stew, sat down to sew the eyes back in place. Gertie needed a bath, that was for sure.
“You are so good with them.” Penny slumped into the chair beside her. “I don’t know how I will take care of a new baby and these two and the store.” She laid a hand on the small mound under her apron. “That is, if I can carry this baby to term.”
Ellie wanted to ask how many babies Penny had lost, but knowing what a painful subject that was, she kept her own counsel. “Perhaps I will be able to help through the fall anyway. Surely there is someone else in the family who wants to come from Norway. Or maybe Rebecca Baard would like to help you.”
“She’s pretty busy helping Dorothy and Knute. Their little Swen never has done good. He’s four and can’t even sit up yet. Good thing Rebecca and Gus are living with their brother. Makes it easier for everyone.”
“How come Mr. Valders never helps you in the store anymore?”
“He’s busy with the bank, and he keeps accounts for more people all the time, especially the grain elevator. He likes bookkeeping, and he’s good at it. Of course Hildegunn likes it better that he manages the bank rather than clerking in the store.” Penny’s grin took the sting out of her words.
“No changes there, eh? What about Gerald? Couldn’t he help in the store?”
“Possibly. But ever since he came back from the war, he’s been sickly. The malaria hits him again and again. Puts him back in bed, which makes him undependable. I feel sorry for him. He’s a good man. I think you’ve spoiled me.”
Ellie tied off the last knot on the button and began finger combing the doll’s yarn hair so she could braid it again. “Supper will be ready pretty quick.”
The bell tinkled over the front door of the store, and Penny heaved herself to her feet. “I’m putting out the Closed sign as soon as this customer leaves.”
Ellie went ahead setting the table outside and keeping an eye on the children as they hauled in wood for the woodbox, Linnea one or two sticks at a time, Gustaf handing her light pieces.
“You got to be careful.” Gustaf ’s voice came through the open door.
Hearing Linnea screaming, Ellie went to check. “What happened?” She scooped Linnea up into her arms.
“She dropped a piece of wood on her toe. I warned her.”
Ellie inspected the abused toe and comforted the little girl. “It’s not bleeding. You’ll be all right.”
“Gustaf hurt me.”
“I’m sure it was an accident.”
“Where’s Ma?”
“She’s busy in the store right now.”
Linnea sniffed again and scrubbed away her tears with balled fists. “Put me down, please.”
Ellie set her down again and handed her the doll that once again had two button eyes, its braided hair tied with a piece of yarn.
“Oh, look.” Linnea held up the doll. “You fixed her.” Her head nodded up and down while a smile beamed from eyes still damp with tears.
“Go tell your brother to wash up for supper, and you wash too.”
“Will you help me?” She tucked her doll under her arm and headed for the washing bench. “Gustaf, come eat.”
They were just drying their hands when Penny came out the door. “Now, that was one nice young man.”
“Who?”
“Joshua Landsverk. He sold his place to Haakan and, once he got his money, came by to pay off his bill here. When I heard he was leaving, I sort of wrote it off, thinking there’s another bad debt. But he came by and paid up.”
“Where’s he going?”
“Said back home, to Iowa or Ohio, I think. His girl was supposed to come out so they could get married. But she never showed up, and then the grasshoppers got his wheat. He sold his cows to Ingeborg.” Penny grinned. “He’s one fine-looking man, that I can tell you.”
“Penny!”
“Well, I’ve got eyes God gave me to see with. And when He made beautiful men or women, I think we should appreciate His creation, just like we would a fine sunset or a gorgeous flower. Loving my husband doesn’t affect my eyesight.”
Ellie smiled back, then chuckled. The two looked at each other again and burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Gustaf asked.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Penny tried to be serious, but Ellie’s giggle did her in. They finally figured they’d better not look at each other so they could quit laughing. So they each looked away. “My,” Penny said at last, “that was better than a good cry.” She wiped her eyes. “Not that I’m not crying anyway.”
“Me too. I’ll get the supper on the table. You just sit there.”
As dusk softened the edges of the land, Ellie kept hoping that Andrew would come by before dark. Then she hoped he would come before bedtime. Then she fell asleep so fast she had no more time to hope.
In the morning as she was fixing breakfast she heard a horse lope into town and stop at the store. Please, Lord, not an emergency. But when Andrew’s face smiled at her through the screen door, she pushed the door open and stepped into his hug. “I was hoping you’d come last night. Of course I’ve hoped that every night, but I know you are so busy.”
“We didn’t get back until just before the rain—got one wagonload up into the haymow and part of the other.”
“I know . . . then you had to milk cows.”
“Ja, and then I wanted to come, but . . .” He paused and kissed her forehead, then her lips. “I have such good news.”
“What?” She leaned her cheek against his chest so she could hear his heart.
“Three more days. Well, just two more now.”
“And what?”
“Guess.”
“Andrew Bjorklund, I hate guessing games.”
“You’ll like the answer.”
“We are getting married next week.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not that I don’t want to, but I agreed.”
“I told you I don’t like guessing games. Now what?” She stamped her foot just the slightest.
“Saturday we are having a house raising. Our house. I’ll finish the last wall of the cellar today.”
“Oh, Andrew, really?” She stared up at him to see if he was teasing. He wasn’t. “Our house. We’re going to have a house right soon.”
“What’s that I hear?” Penny asked.
“Saturday we’re having a house raising. Everyone is invited.” Andrew tucked Ellie under his arm. “Where’s Hjelmer?”
“He left for Bismarck yesterday.”
“He said he’d help.”
“You know he’s all excited about the flour mill. He went to see if he could find investors. Have you had breakfast?”
“Yes. I’m going around to let everyone know about the house raising.”
“We’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll see if I can get Mr. Valders to mind the store, or else I’ll just put up the Closed sign.”
Ellie stared at Penny, sure her jaw was dropping open. Penny never closed the store except on Sunday.
“I need to go. Lots of people to call on.” Andrew kissed the tip of her nose. “See you Saturday.” With that he l
eaped off the porch and ran around the house, waving to her as he went.
“I’d say that is one happy young man.”
Ellie stared after him. “I’d say you are right.”
The church bell ringing jerked her out of a sound sleep. Fire. It had to be a fire when dark still reigned. She leaned out the window to hear someone yelling, “Prairie fire! Prairie fire!” While she couldn’t tell from which direction the fire was burning, she could smell the smoke.
Pulling her nightdress over her head, she dressed in two minutes and headed down the stairs, braiding her hair as she went.
Penny met her at the bottom of the stairs. “Get the rugs. I’ll grab the shovels.”
“What about the children?”
“Oh! I forgot about them.”
“You stay here. You needn’t be out beating out a fire. I’ll get a ride with someone.” Ellie wrapped a cloth around her hair.
“But . . .”
“No, listen. You shouldn’t be inhaling all that smoke. Everyone will be needing coffee and food.”
“True.”
Ellie dug leather work gloves out of the basket.
“Take a jacket to protect your arms from sparks.”
Ellie did as she was told and, carrying her tools, stepped out into the night. She could hear a wagon coming and ran around the building to flag a ride. “Thanks,” she said and climbed into the back of the wagon with the Lincolns.
Sam clucked the horses into a fast trot, and they headed west.
“You ever fought a prairie fire?” Mrs. Sam asked over the racket of the wagon.
“No, but I know that every hand is needed. I made Penny stay back.”
“Good girl.”
Other wagons joined them along the road, and riders on horseback galloped on by. The smoke billowed up ahead and already stung their eyes. Flickering red and yellow showed the fire line, with people already outlined against the light, flailing the ground, tossing dirt with shovels. A team pulling a drag worked on the area the men had plowed earlier.
“Over here,” a voice hollered off to the north.
They all bailed out of the wagon and ran across the prairie.
“If we can stop it before it gets to our fire break, we can keep it from jumping.”
A Promise for Ellie Page 20