A Promise for Ellie

by Lauraine Snelling

  The wind blew sparks that blazed in the dry grass. Ellie took her rug and slammed it against a small blaze. A couple more hits and the flame was out. Paying no attention to those around her, she concentrated on beating out flare-ups. Her arms weighed a hundred pounds each and her back screamed in agony, but like the others, she coughed and kept on.

  “Ellie, over here,” Andrew called from behind her. Good thing she could hear him, because her eyes were running so, she could hardly see. She turned and stumbled into his arms.

  “Stay by me.” He spoke right in her ear.

  A nod was all she could accomplish.

  Back, ever backward, the wind, smoke, and flames drove them. Word came down the long line of firefighters to go east of the firebreak and try to keep it from jumping the firebreak. Off in the west they could see a haystack burning—and a building. Ellie stumbled over the rough clods of the area disked to kill off the vegetation. Sparks landed all around them, igniting the dry grass almost immediately, but here they could stamp those out before they flamed.

  “Ellie!”

  She looked off to her left. Andrew came running and brushed off her back. “You were smoldering. You’ve got to be careful.”

  She coughed and nodded and continued swatting flare-ups with the rug and stamping out the smaller ones. If only it would rain. God, send us rain. Someone had said heat lightning most likely started the blaze.

  Even with the smoke, the sky looked lighter, and with dawn the wind dropped.

  The fire gobbled and grabbed every blade on the west side of the firebreak, but only bits and pieces of gray showed on the east. The railroad line stopped the inferno from going farther south.

  A team and wagon came trotting from town, Penny and Bridget waving from the wagon seat. “Water, coffee, sandwiches—any takers?”

  While a few men remained to guard the line, most of the firefighters congregated around the wagon, chugging water and coffee, wolfing the sandwiches, then moving back to let those guarding have a break and a chance to eat.

  “Thank God we took the time to plow and disk the firebreak” were the words heard most often.

  “Haakan, you gave wise advice.” Pastor Solberg clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Read it in a newspaper, and since we didn’t have a really large area to protect, it made sense. I’m thinking we should make it a yard or two wider. That wind sure was pushing sparks.”

  “Since my place would have been one of the first to go, I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Well, Pastor, like you’ve said so many times, God’s family has to pull together. And we do.” Haakan wiped his blackened face with his shirtsleeve.

  “If we’d gotten that fire wagon instead of just talking about it, we could have saved that shed,” Lars put in.

  “I’ll look into it,” Haakan promised, “but everyone is going to have to donate to pay for it.”

  Ellie’s gaze followed what her ears heard. Gerald Valders was coughing so hard he collapsed and had to be loaded into the wagon to go back to town to see Dr. Elizabeth.

  While she felt lightheaded from the smoke and from coughing, she stood drinking her coffee with the others, all black of face and filthy with smoke and dirt.

  “If we aren’t a sight.” Sophie pointed to Ellie. “I must look just like you, and that’s pretty bad.”

  Penny handed Ellie a sandwich. “I have plenty of warm water at home. We’ll stand you in the washtub and pour it right over you.”

  Ellie nodded and took a bite of her sandwich. She could see Andrew with other men back prowling the fire line. What if no one had wakened and rung the bell? Would the firebreak have held all those flames back?

  The prairie fire was the main topic of conversation on Saturday, when those who could gathered to raise Andrew and Ellie’s house.

  Ellie wished her ma and pa were there to help with the house raising, but she’d have had to send them a telegram, and she figured the scare of that would take all the pleasure from it. Besides, they couldn’t get there until afternoon anyway.

  The walls went up so fast the women didn’t have dinner ready when the men said it was time to eat. Before they needed to leave for chores, the entire two-story house was framed, the roof ready for shakes, the windows in, and some of the siding on.

  “Thank you, everyone,” Andrew said to each as the families loaded into their wagons and headed on home, everyone amazed at the progress.

  “Well, son, I never would have believed it if I didn’t see it.” Haakan clapped Andrew on the shoulder.

  “Me either. Two stories and the cellar. We can start adding the porch on tomorrow.”

  “As many as can will be coming back. You should be able to move in soon. Where’s Ellie?”

  “She took Penny and the children home. I don’t think Penny was feeling well.”

  “As well, let’s get the tools put away and get to the milking. Cows wait for no man.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Andrew picked up a couple of pieces of siding and threw them on the trash pile, as they were too small to be used. With most of the pieces cut in the factory, there had been little sawing this day. He walked through the house one more time. Tomorrow they’d build the stairway. Whoever would have thought a house could go up so fast? Shame that Ellie couldn’t be here to enjoy this moment with him. He smiled to himself. He had a couple of pictures of kitchen stoves. He would leave it up to her to pick the one she wanted. They’d order that together. He’d learned his lesson about ordering anything for the house before asking her. He leaped to the ground and joined his pa, gathering tools and putting them in the boxes to keep the dew off.

  As they walked across the fields to the homeplace, he looked back once. My house. My own place. Mine and Ellie’s. Someone had brought her an apple tree sapling. She’d planted it on a corner of the garden, the garden now entirely free of weeds thanks to some enterprising women.

  “It’s only a house, son,” Haakan said gently. “It’ll be up to you and Ellie to make it a home. You know what I mean?”

  “I guess so.” Andrew paused. “But if I don’t, I sure expect I’ll be learning it soon.” And moving in can’t come soon enough.

  “MOR, YOU NEED TO COME.”

  “What? Astrid, what is it?” Ingeborg blinked and tried to focus. “I thought you were staying at Elizabeth’s tonight.”

  “I was. But I came home to get you. Penny is having a problem, and Elizabeth is over there. She wants your help too.”

  Ingeborg’s feet hit the floor, and she was dressing as Astrid finished speaking.

  “What’s going on?” Haakan asked, his voice soft in the darkness.

  “Elizabeth has gone to care for Penny, and she wants Mor.”

  “I’ll harness the buggy.”

  “I have Thorliff ’s buggy here. I’ll take Mor.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No. Go back to sleep. I’ll let you know what’s happening.” Ingeborg’s prayers circled higher as she left the house and climbed into the buggy. “What time is it?”

  “I have no idea.” Astrid clucked the horse into a trot and out the lane. “We’d all gone to sleep, and sometime later I heard a pounding at the door. Thorliff answered and away we went.”

  “She’s losing the baby?”

  “I’m thinking that’s it. Penny never said anything about an injury, but they left early from the house raising. I feel so sad for her.”

  “I know. She’s lost so many.” Just the words brought back Ingeborg’s own pain at losing her baby. And after Astrid she’d never had any more. But Penny had two children, so what was causing her to lose so many? She was healthy, strong.Why could some women carry babies with no trouble and others couldn’t? And so many died in childbirth. Metiz had said that more white women died in childbirth than Indian women. Why was that? It was easy to get overloaded with questions that seemed to have no answers in the middle of the night. Like weeping that tarried for the night, but the promise said joy comes with the m
orning. There would most likely be no joy for Penny come morning.

  As soon as they walked in the door, Penny held out her arms. “Oh, Ingeborg, I’m losing another one. Why does God want my babies in heaven before they can grow up to be people?”

  Ingeborg, tears streaming down her face, held the younger woman in her arms, and they cried together before another spasm wracked Penny’s body. I don’t know why. All I know is how much it hurts. Two or three more contractions, and the tiny baby slipped into a world it would never know.

  While Elizabeth went about her doctoring duties, Ingeborg rocked Penny in her arms as if she were holding a child. Glancing over, she saw Ellie, both hands clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide, face white, even in the dim light. Something was wrong. Was it more than Penny losing the baby?

  “I want Tante Agnes, but God took her too. Doesn’t He want me to have anyone?” Penny moaned.

  Ingeborg looked over their patient to see Elizabeth shaking her head and sniffing back tears too. There was no need to remind Penny she had two healthy children, a husband, and all the rest of her family. All she needed right now was someone to hold her and cry with her.

  “And Hjelmer, he’s never here when I need him.” She was sobbing so hard that the bed shook.

  “Astrid, help me change the bed now,” Elizabeth ordered. “Ellie, please go make sure the children are still asleep and heat some milk.” While Ingeborg helped move Penny around, they changed the sheets. Ellie returned with some heated milk, and Penny drank it when told to and collapsed back into Ingeborg’s arms.

  “I added a bit of laudanum to that, so she should sleep soon. That will help take the edge off.” Elizabeth spoke softly.

  “Was my baby a boy or a girl?”

  “A girl.”

  “Her name is Agnes. And I want her to be buried next to my tante Agnes.”

  “We’ll take care of that.” Elizabeth looked at Ingeborg.

  “Haakan will build a little box,” Ingeborg said, nodding.

  “Mange takk, Ingeborg. You are so good to me.” She buried her face in her hands. “I want my baby.”

  Ingeborg shifted to the chair that Astrid placed beside the bed and held Penny’s hand until she slept. “Is there any answer to why?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m sure there is, but I don’t know it. Someday I hope we know more about these things, but right now all I can say is ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’ ”

  “The Bible says He weeps with us in our sorrow.” Ingeborg stroked the hair back from Penny’s face, which no longer dripped with perspiration.

  “But, Mor, there has to be a reason.” Astrid knelt beside her mother and laid her cheek on her mother’s knee.

  “My mother used to say, ‘God made it so, and so it is.’ I was never happy to hear that, because I knew she’d offer no other answer.” Ingeborg beckoned Ellie to come join them.

  “You’ve always said that to me too, but I don’t think God does things without a reason.”

  “I know. But I don’t believe God does all this. Sin and evil are loose in this world.”

  “But we have Easter. The Bible says Jesus defeated sin when He rose from the dead.”

  “I know, but think how often we choose to sin anyway.” Ingeborg leaned over and kissed her daughter’s temple. “God promises to always be with us, to walk through the valleys with us, to be our shepherd, our comforter.”

  Ellie sat on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around her middle, as if holding herself together. “But He could have stopped this baby from dying. He could have done so for my mother too.”

  “He could have, but He didn’t. And we don’t know why. People have been asking that same question since time began. I did when I lost the baby. I did when I never had any more. I do now, too, but I know for certain God is welcoming that baby home at the same time as He is comforting us who remain behind.”

  “How is He comforting us?”

  “With each other.We hug, we cry, we hold each other.We’re here to listen and to love. We’re God’s hands right here in Blessing.” Ingeborg wrapped her arms around both Astrid and Ellie. “And we rejoice for all the babies who live and grow up fine and strong like you.”

  Astrid turned to look out the window. “Dawn is coming.”

  “Ja, the night tarries, but the sun always rises. That’s my daily reminder that God overcomes the dark. Like the sun, He is here always. Even when we can’t see Him, we know He is here and that, if we wait, we will sense and feel Him again.”

  Elizabeth went to stand at the window, her hands cupping her elbows. “We’re having a pink and gold sunrise. Thank you for coming, Ingeborg. I need to be reminded of the sun in the sky and the Son of our heavenly Father. And that I’m not the one defeating death. He is. I’m just one of His servants, doing the best I can and leaving the rest in His hands.”

  Ingeborg rose and, taking Astrid and Ellie with her, went to stand by Elizabeth. She wrapped her arms around them all, and they stood for a while, arms entangled, watching the gold rim of the sun inch above the horizon and then spring into the air, heralded by birdsong.

  “My dear daughters, I prayed for years for more babies, but He gave me full-grown daughters instead. I thank Him daily for each one of you, and I pray that you will grow to know Him better day by day.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, matching the ones on their faces. “And now, Lord God, fill us with your peace and bring healing to our dear Penny. In Jesus’ mighty name, amen.”

  Elizabeth stepped back to the bed to check on her patient.

  Ellie hugged her soon-to-be mother-in-law one more time. “I’ll go make breakfast.”

  “I need to get on home,” Ingeborg said. “Astrid, you want to take me? Or I could walk.”

  “You take her, Astrid,” Elizabeth said. “Then take the buggy back to our house. I’ll go feed Inga and come back later to check on Penny. Thorliff ’s probably ready to bring her over here by now.”

  “I’m surprised we haven’t heard her screaming.” Ingeborg patted Elizabeth’s cheek. “You have a beautiful daughter. I hope I can come by in the next day or so and be with her for a while. Or you can bring her out.”

  “We’ll see. Ellie, any questions?”

  Ellie shook her head. “Can Astrid take care of the children while I open the store?”

  “I’ll be back to do that.” Astrid followed her mother out the door.

  After they climbed into the buggy, Astrid set her basket on the floor.

  “Mor . . .”

  “Astrid, please don’t ask me why again.”

  She gave her mother a wounded look. “I wasn’t going to. I just wondered if we should send Onkel Hjelmer a telegraph or wait to write a letter.”

  “I’m sorry, Astrid. Let me think. Will it help her to have him come home or will it cause dissension?”

  “Dissension?”

  “An argument or fight.”

  “Why would his coming home cause a fight? I thought she said she wanted him there.”

  “No, she said he was gone again. It seems that Hjelmer is always gone when Penny needs him the most.”

  “And that makes her mad?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Then she should tell him to stay home.”

  Ingeborg snorted at the simplistic answer. “Astrid, wives don’t go around telling their husbands what to do.”

  “Some do. Mr. Valders never says much, but Mrs. Valders tells him what to do.”

  “True.”

  “But you don’t tell Pa what to do. You ask him nice. Is that the difference?”

  “About as well as I could explain it.” A wave of weariness nearly swamped Ingeborg. She didn’t have the stamina of a few years ago, that was for certain. Especially since the big bleed, as she referred to her illness. The scary thing—what if it started again?

  “You all right?”

  “I will be.”

  “Do you need a nap?”

  Ingebo
rg chuckled. “That’s what I used to say to you when you turned cranky when you were little.”

  “You’re not cranky anymore. You just have that gray look about your eyes again. Elizabeth asked me if you were still taking it easy.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I said, ‘Easier, but she don’t sit down much.’ ”

  “Doesn’t.”

  Astrid heaved a sigh. “You don’t, you know.”

  Ingeborg waved at Andrew, who was already up nailing shakes on the roof of his house. He used the hammer to wave back and returned to his work.

  “I’d hammer on shakes if they’d let me,” Astrid declared.

  “I know you would, but I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Because I’m a girl?”

  “Because there’s too much work to be done on the ground or in the house for you to be climbing up on his roof.”

  “What is it like, Ma, wearing men’s britches?”

  “Like walking around in your bloomers, only heavier. But they sure are handy for working in the garden and for milking cows. And for riding horseback.”

  “Maybe we should wear them and start a new style.”

  Ingeborg glanced at her daughter. “Your pa would have six fits from Sunday.”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About what?” Ingeborg always knew that things were about to break loose when Astrid said those three little words. Please, Lord, don’t let her shock me too much.

  “Well, Elizabeth and I’ve been talking about what I will do when I graduate.” She glanced sideways at her mother. “And since there is no man in my life . . .”

  Thank you, Lord, for that.

  “Not that that would make a real difference anyway. I for sure want to go to school.”

  “I think that’s a fine idea. What school?”

  “Oh good. I hoped you’d say that. Nursing school.”

  “I’d think you could get far better training working here with Dr. Elizabeth.”

  “She said I could do that, but she would like me to go to Chicago to train at the same place she did. To be a doctor, I’d need a college degree, but I could go right into nurse’s training after I graduate.” She paused a moment as she stopped the horses at the fence around the house. “I don’t think I want to be a doctor, but I like taking care of sick people. You do too, Ma—so I take after you.”