A Promise for Ellie

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Andrew, would you like to come in?” Ellie said, stepping out onto the porch.

  “Ah, it’s nice out here. Do you feel like sitting down here or up on the chairs?” He had yet to turn and look at her. “I mean it is cooler out here, and—”

  “Andrew, am I so terribly deformed that you cannot even look at me?”

  “Why? Ellie, why would you say that?” He leaped to his feet, whipped his hat off with one hand, and turned to stare at her feet, her skirt, anywhere but her face, her sweet face that was no longer framed by long golden hair that glinted in the sunlight and glowed in the lamplight.

  Her sigh tugged at his heart and set him to calling himself names, which made him chew on grump again.

  “Here, take this chair. I’m going to get us something to drink.” The door slammed behind her before he could get any more words past the lump in his throat. I don’t want something to drink. I want to talk to you. He sat down in one of the rocking chairs and hooked his hat over his knee.

  The door squeaked again, and he leaped to his feet. “I’ll get that for you.”

  Ellie backed out of the door, tray in her hands. She handed him the tray and moved a small table in between the two chairs. “Set it here, please.”

  Andrew did as she said and took his chair again. She sat on the edge of the seat, as if ready to run at the slightest provocation. She handed him a glass of lemonade and held the plate of cookies until he took a couple. The crunch of cookies broke the silence.

  Might as well get it over with. He took a swig of lemonade to wash down the cookie that stuck in his throat. And coughed. Glancing up, he caught her staring at him, her face frozen in a polite smile, the kind one wore when one didn’t really care for the visitor. Oh, Ellie. He wanted to reach for her hand, but the thought that she might not let him take her hand scared him so badly he choked on another bite of cookie.

  He drank more, cleared his throat, and forced out the words. “Please forgive me, Ellie. I am so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Um, for being so angry at you.” He rubbed the knuckle on his right hand. “I guess for being so angry at everything.”

  “Andrew, you’ve not been to see me for four days.”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t—”

  “Can’t what? Forgive me for doing something stupid? Yes, I know now I should not have gone into that barn, but I did and I’ve paid the price for that. I’m still paying the price for it.” She paused to catch her breath. “Or are you sorry you can’t look at me?”

  “I look at you—” His voice tightened.

  “No you don’t. You look at my skirt, you look past me, but you don’t look right at me.”

  Ellie had raised her voice. She was yelling at him! He stared at her, shock widening his eyes.

  When she started to cough, he clenched his jaw and waited.

  She took a sip of lemonade and sat back in her chair, her chest heaving with the effort of sucking in much needed air.

  He stared at her hands, tightly woven in her lap. “Astrid said she thinks you saw someone at the barn that night.”

  “I might have.”

  “Do you know who it is?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, who do you think it might be?”

  His sarcastic tone brought her forward in her chair. She kept her voice low so she could breathe better. “Andrew Bjorklund, you better listen real good, because I’m only going to say this once. I’m not sure who it was, and you will not badger me to find out. I don’t think for a moment someone set that fire on purpose, and you just better let it go, or you’ll turn into some bitter, angry man with no friends because you drove them all away.”

  “Ellie, I—” He swallowed the fire that leaped in his belly.

  “I will forgive you. I have forgiven you.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it to me.” His words could have been heard above a threshing machine. “I have to know if someone set that fire. He almost killed you.”

  “I almost killed myself. Can’t you understand that?” She whipped the scarf off her head. “Look at me. My hair is growing back, my voice is coming back. Let it go, Andrew Bjorklund. Let God deal with it. He’s given me a new life, and He’d give you one if you’d let Him.” She doubled over coughing and staggered to the door.

  “Let me help you!” He reached for her, but she slid past him and disappeared into the house. He could hear her coughing all the way down the hall. He reached for the door handle, stopped, and stared down at his hat, mangled between his hands. He stomped off the porch and toward the street, cramming his hat back onto his head, his arms pumping at his sides. Let it go? What did she know? Why’d I bother to say I’m sorry anyway? That’s the way she wants it, so be it. She knows something she’s not telling me. I know she does.

  Staring at the ground, he almost bumped into Toby Valders standing in front of him. “What do you want?”

  “Don’t take it out on Ellie.”

  “Who do you think you are?”

  “I was at your barn.”

  “What! Why were you there? You started that fire?”

  “No, I was at the barn, but I—” Toby reeled back from the roundhouse punch to his jaw.

  With a roar of rage Andrew followed that punch by leaping onto the stumbling man. He grabbed Toby by the throat, and they fell to the ground, Andrew on top. He banged Toby’s head against the ground, knees holding him down.

  “You nearly killed Ellie, you . . .” A string of names followed, accompanying the slamming.

  “Andrew, no. Stop it!” Thorliff tried to pull him off but got an elbow in the gut for his trouble. He leaped onto his brother’s back and locked an arm around his neck. “Andrew! Andrew! You’ll kill him.”

  With a roar Andrew threw Thorliff off his back and staggered to his feet. “Get up, you slimy dog.” Wiping blood from his nose, where Toby had landed a punch, Andrew leaned over to grab Toby’s collar and drag him to his feet.

  Thorliff tackled him from behind, catching him in the knees and slamming him to the ground.

  Andrew lay there, one hand pounding the dirt. “Ellie! Ellie!”

  Having already heard the fight going on, Elizabeth and Ellie were on the porch. At his scream Ellie ran to kneel at his side, coughing and choking but grabbing his hand.

  “Oh, Andrew, what have you done?”

  “I think he might have just killed Toby.”

  “LET’S GET HIM into the surgery,” Elizabeth ordered. “Thorliff, you take his feet. Andrew, get up here and help carry him. Be careful with his head. If you broke his neck, there’s no chance.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Of course you didn’t mean to, but you did it. Now, let’s see if we can keep him alive.”

  “Toby, you’ve got to live. I didn’t mean to do this.” Andrew leaned forward, his entire body shaking, fear forcing out any residual anger.

  Ellie, tears streaming down her cheeks, stared into Toby’s pale and bloody face. “Please live, Toby. Fight to live.”

  Thorliff and Andrew did as Elizabeth told them and carried the body around to the surgery door.

  “Lay him on the table.” Elizabeth put her stethoscope to his chest.

  “He’s still alive.” While she spoke, her fingers inspected the back of his head. “Mushy. Thorliff, is there any ice left in the icehouse?”

  “Ja, some,” Andrew answered.

  “Get it here as fast as you can. We’ve got to keep his brain from swelling. Take the buggy.” Thorliff and Andrew were out the door before she could finish speaking.

  “Ellie, I need you to help me roll him onto his side and hold him there while I shave the back of his head and disinfect the wound. He could get violent if he starts to come to, so be prepared.”

  “You need more hands, I’m here.” Henry Aarsgard came through the door. “We heard what went on.”

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth showed them what to do, while Thelma fetched warm water from the re
servoir.

  “I’m here too.” Penny joined them. “Tell me what to do.”

  “I need more light and these instruments soaked in carbolic acid. You’ll find it in the bottom of that cabinet.” Elizabeth snipped off the longest hair with a scissors, poured water into the soap mug, and stirred it with the bristles of the brush, then lathered the back of Toby’s head. As soon as she finished shaving him, she nodded to Penny. “Hold a lamp here, so I can see better.”With knowing fingers, she probed the area again. “I’m sure the cranium is at least cracked here. Might have to trephine him later, but for now I think bandages are about all I can do.”

  “That cut on his chin will need stitches.” Penny raised the lamp higher so Elizabeth could see more.

  “That’s the least of his worries. I think we have cracked or broken ribs too. But at least his lungs are clear. That head wound is the worst. Why Andrew had to beat his head against that rock-hard ground is beyond me.”

  “What happened out there?” Henry asked.

  “Andrew and I had a fight, and something happened when he saw Toby, I guess.” Ellie rolled another towel and braced it against Toby’s back.

  “Do you know who was at the barn?” Elizabeth looked to Ellie.

  Ellie nodded. “Toby. But I couldn’t tell Andrew that. I’m sure he didn’t set the fire. Toby and Gerald had a bad start in life, but they turned into hard-working men. He and Andrew just don’t get along.”

  “Could be they had to chop too much wood together.” Elizabeth finished her examination. “All right, we have him braced. Let’s clean him up, and I’ll put a couple of stitches in that chin. Henry, could you get his boots off?”

  Ellie backed off to be out of the way, but her mind sent her pleas heavenward. Please, Lord, don’t let him die. Make him whole and sound again.

  “I want to see my son.” Hildegunn Valders stepped inside the doorway, Mr. Valders right behind her.

  “Give me a couple more minutes here, and then you can see him.”

  “I want to see him now.”

  Penny went to the door. “Look, Mr. and Mrs. Valders, let Dr.

  Bjorklund finish her work, and then you can see him. There isn’t much room in here for this many people.”

  “Why didn’t someone come and tell us right away?”

  “We haven’t had time. We’re doing all we can to make him comfortable.”

  Please, Lord, get the ice here, Ellie prayed. Calm this situation down.

  “That Andrew, he’s always had it in for Toby. Likes to use him for a punching bag.” Hildegunn Valders clamped her arms across her chest.

  “Come this way, please.” Penny took them both by an arm and led them into the waiting room. “You can help your boy best right now by praying for him. Sit down here. I will let you know when you can see him.”

  Ellie went to the window to see if the buggy was in sight yet. I wish I could go get Ingeborg. If only I could breathe better so I could be more helpful.

  “There, Toby, you are going to have an interesting scar on your chin, but all the girls will think it fascinating.” Elizabeth dropped her instruments back into the carbolic acid and lifted his eyelids to check his eyes.

  Ellie watched Elizabeth’s face, hoping for signs of hope, but the slight shake of the doctor’s head told her to keep on praying. As soon as she heard the buggy, she went outside to wait by the door. Thorliff stopped the team, and Andrew leaped down before the buggy stopped rolling. Ingeborg followed them out of the buggy, basket over her arm.

  “Oh, I am so glad you came,” Ellie said.

  “How is he?”

  “The same. He’s not regained consciousness.”

  Ingeborg nodded and turned to her son. “Just chop off a chunk about the size of two loaves of bread and beat it into small pieces. Cover the rest and get it in the cellar, where it’s cooler.” Without waiting for the ice, she went on into the surgery, with Ellie following.

  “I’m glad you came.” Elizabeth explained what she’d done and what she thought, then asked, “Do you know of any herbs that might reduce cranial swelling?”

  “Not offhand, but a poultice of onions might help, unless there is an open wound. Then ice is best. Now I’m grateful I didn’t make that last batch of ice cream.” She took Toby’s hand and laid her fingers across the inside of his wrist. “Pretty weak.”

  “I know.”

  Andrew brought in the gunnysack of crushed ice. “Where do you want this?”

  “We’ll lay his head on it and then wrap some in a towel to put over the top of his head. Kind of like an ice hat or cave.”

  “It’ll soak those bandages.”

  “That’s all right.”

  Ellie huddled in the corner, praying constantly, not only for Toby but for Andrew and for herself.

  After they had him situated, Elizabeth called in his adoptive parents. “You can see him now. He hasn’t awakened yet, but he seems to be resting comfortably.”

  Hildegunn Valders glared at Andrew, then took her son’s hand, patting and stroking the back. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Oh, Toby, don’t give in to this. You got to fight the good fight. Your pa and I, we’re praying. This wasn’t your fault, you know.”

  Ellie looked up, but Andrew had left the room. He didn’t need to hear those things from this woman. She had a feeling Hildegunn Valders didn’t really understand forgiveness either. Least not from the stories she’d heard.

  “We’re going to move him now. Please go back to the waiting room, and when we have him comfortable, I’ll show you the way to his room. You can sit with him for as long as you’d like.”

  “You be careful with him.”

  “Oh, we will.”

  “And don’t you let that Andrew Bjorklund anywheres near him.”

  Henry harrumphed as they left the room. Elizabeth smiled at him. “Go get Andrew and Thorliff, will you please, Ellie?”

  When they returned, Elizabeth assigned each of them a corner.

  “We’re going to use this sheet to carry him. Each of you take a corner, and on three we will lift together and move him into the room next to Ellie’s. Then once we have him settled, you can leave, and I’ll bring his parents in. Ingeborg, could you please go pick up Inga? I heard her starting to fuss. How she slept through all this, I’ll never know.”

  After the Valderses took their seats on either side of Toby’s bed, Ingeborg entered the room. “May I bring a cup of coffee? I know how hard this waiting can be.” She caught Anner’s nod, but Hildegunn straightened to glare fire at her.

  “Your son tried to kill my Toby.”

  Ingeborg thought of several things to say but instead backed out of the room. Lord, help me. Help them. And please let Toby live. She brought a tray back with two cups of coffee and a plate of cookies.

  By later that night when Toby still hadn’t wakened, Ingeborg took the seat by the bed. His parents had gone home an hour or so earlier, Hildegunn promising to return the next day.

  “Can I get you anything?” Ellie asked.

  “You can sit with me if you like. Conversation always makes the time pass easier.”

  Ellie sat down on the straight-backed chair. “Do you think he’ll live?”

  “Only God knows at this time, but he has a good chance.”

  “Where’s Andrew? Gone home?”

  “Ja. And how are you?”

  “Tired, and my chest hurts some.” Ellie touched the covering on her head. “The burns are better.”

  “Maybe we should have put you in ice too. All this excitement.” Ingeborg picked up her knitting, moved the stitches toward the business end of the needles, and inserted the empty one into the first stitch of the new row. “When did you know?”

  “Who was at the barn?”

  “Ja.”

  “I dreamed the whole thing a couple of nights ago and realized it was Toby at the barn by his build and the way he always wore his hat. I couldn’t tell anyone because I wasn’t absolutely sure. And what good would telling hav
e done?” She sighed. “I tried to prevent this.”

  “If there is an infection, one must lance it so the pus can drain out and the healing can begin.”

  “You mean for Andrew?”

  “Ja. And perhaps for Toby too.”

  “But not if he dies.”

  “That is why we will leave this in God’s hands, where it belongs. You go on to bed so you can get stronger too.”

  “I will. And I’ll keep praying. I know all of you prayed for me and look how well I am doing.” She leaned over and hugged Ingeborg. “Mange takk.”

  By the next morning, there was still no change in Toby. He lay as if only asleep, breathing easily but nonresponsive.

  “Be grateful he is not having convulsions,” Elizabeth said when Ellie asked her about it.

  “I will.”

  “Keep spooning him water. That’s important.”

  When the train came from Grafton the next day, Sheriff Charles Becker stepped off the passenger car. He rented a horse and wagon at the livery and rode on out to the Bjorklund farm. Ingeborg met him at the front porch.

  “Welcome, Sheriff, can I fix you a cup of coffee?”

  “Thanks, but I think not. Mrs. Bjorklund, where might I find your son Andrew?”

  “He’s over to the Solbergs’ with the threshing crew.”

  “Can you give me directions?”

  Ingeborg told him how to find the place, then added, “What is this about?”

  “It’s about your son almost killing a man.We don’t take too kindly to that kind of violence here in Walsh County. I’m sorry, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat and returned to the wagon.

  How did the sheriff learn about this? Poor Andrew.

  Hildegunn, of course. She must have sent a telegram. Ingeborg clamped her teeth together. Leave it to that woman.