“Einar insisted we cut a path to the shed to fix the plow. I suggested waiting. He kept insisting, so we did. He’s still in the shed. Something wrong?” He looked worried.
“Nei. We just had a calf.”
Rune nodded and smiled. “The boys did all right, then?”
“You can be proud of your boys. They worked like they do this every day.” She couldn’t stop smiling. But suddenly she spun and headed to the house. “Kirstin! She is still fussy and fevered. I have to—”
“Isn’t Gerd there?”
Signe heaved a breath and shook her head. “Of course.” How silly. Months ago, Gerd couldn’t have taken care of Kirstin but now she could. Miracles without end.
“Much as I hate to do this, I will have to miss church. Einar says we are hauling logs this week, and I—we have not felled enough to pay for the lumber for our house yet. Time is running out.”
Signe nodded slowly, but hurt leaked out onto her face. “But when will we have Kirstin baptized?” Thanks to Gerd’s ministrations, Kirstin’s fever had quickly faded. With her daughter back to her usual happy self, Signe felt it was time to plan Kirstin’s baptism.
“I thought we could wait until Nilda gets here, and she and Ivar can be there as godparents.”
Signe nodded slowly. “I do like that idea.”
“Good. Bjorn and I will fell the trees, and Knute and Leif can do the limbing. As the days get longer, I hope I can work on our property sometimes in the evening. We will have to pull some stumps to clear land to build the house.” He scrubbed his scalp with the ends of his fingers. “I know Einar plans on Ivar working with him on Sundays, but I need him more. Besides, he will not be indentured to Einar.”
The next morning, when he had finished eating his breakfast without waiting for the others, as usual, Einar announced, “We start hauling today. We will load the sledge, and then you and I will haul the load to the train at Benson’s Corner.” He nodded to Bjorn. “You will haul after that.”
“Really?” Bjorn looked at his far, who nodded. Bjorn shoveled in the last of his pancakes and drained his coffee cup. “I’ll go hitch up the team.”
Rune half smiled at Signe. His boys were men. All they lacked were years.
Out in the woods, where they had built and erected a fifteen-foot-tall pulley frame to lift the logs onto the sledge, the men wrapped a chain around the end of the logs they had cut into twenty-foot lengths and dragged three of them over to the pulley, one at a time. Rune drove the sledge into place beside the logs and unhitched the team so he could hitch them at the end of the pulley rope. The men wrapped the sling and chains into place, hooked them to the pulley, and the team slowly raised one of the logs to be swung above the sledge and then lowered into place.
“We did it!” Bjorn whooped.
Rune and Einar exchanged a look along with a nod. “Let’s do it again.”
Dinnertime had rolled around by the time they’d loaded all three logs and hitched the team back to the sledge.
“Need that other horse out here,” Einar muttered as he shoveled in his dinner. “Bjorn, you drive this trip.”
Rune watched his son encourage the horses to dig in and get the sledge moving, and then he and Einar drove out to the lane and past the barn and house. Lord, keep them safe. Keep my son thinking ahead and following Einar’s orders.
He repacked the basket, hung it up on a branch to keep it free of critters, and hefting an ax, headed for the tree they had felled yesterday to start the limbing. To think of all the trees Einar had felled by himself, it seemed impossible. Shame he hadn’t learned to be grateful for the help Rune and Bjorn brought to him.
When the sledge returned, they loaded it up again, and while Bjorn hauled the load to the shipping station, Einar and Rune felled another tree. By the time they walked up to the barn, Bjorn had not returned.
“Shouldn’t Bjorn be back by now?” Rune asked.
“He might have had to wait in line.”
They left the saws and axes in the machine shed, and Rune returned to the barn to check on his boys. Knute was forking hay from the haymow, and Leif was milking.
Knute peered down from the top of the ladder. “Where’s the team? And Bjorn?”
“He hauled another load of logs to the yard. Leif, run up to the house and ask Mor what she needs.”
“She already said to bring the buckets and strainer up for scrubbing and bring the butter and buttermilk for breakfast. Oh, and eggs. Our hens sure aren’t laying much.”
“They will when it stays light longer. At least we can still have eggs once in a while.”
The three of them headed to the house with all their buckets.
“I think Mor is getting worried about Bjorn,” Leif said.
Rune nodded. So was he. Surely if something had happened, someone would come tell them. If only he had the skis finished, he could go look for him. Of course, he could ride the other horse. He set his load on the porch. “I’m going back to talk to Einar.”
He pushed open the door to the shop and stepped in out of the icy wind. “Supper is nearly ready.”
“Ja. Be there in a few minutes.”
“Should I take the horse and go look for him?”
“He’ll be here soon. They unload right up to dark.”
Somewhat mollified, Rune checked on the press he had built to turn up the tips of the skis after he had soaked the planed and smoothed black ash. How would he know when it was dry? If only there were someone he could ask for advice. His far had not made skis, although he made anything else that was needed out of wood. So many generations of wood carving, for houses and other buildings, besides household bowls, looms, spinning wheels, furniture, wagons, even musical instruments. Perhaps there was someone at church who made skis. He would send a note to Mrs. Benson. She would know, she knew everybody.
Content with that decision, he looked at Einar. “Ready?”
“Ja.” He passed Rune at the door, ready to blow out the lantern.
They were just sitting down to supper when Knute jumped up. “He’s home.” He grabbed his coat and headed out the door.
Rune nodded to Signe. If he looked as fearful as she did, they had both worried for naught.
When the boys stomped the snow off their boots on the porch and Bjorn walked in, it was all Rune could do to keep from cheering.
Einar looked up from eating. “What happened?”
“I was last in line, and he almost told me to leave the load and come back in the morning, but he changed his mind, marked our logs, and then unloaded. I learned a lot watching those men. I asked, and we could cut ours in fifteen-foot lengths to make the logs easier to handle.”
“Ja, depends on the mill.”
That night in bed, Rune admitted his concern to Signe. “I was about to take Rosie and ride out to find him.”
“If you hadn’t, I would have, or sent Knute. I think today Bjorn became a man.” Pride glowed through her words.
Each day they got better at loading, so Bjorn got home earlier from the second load. One day they were able to load the sledge with a third load and park it by the barn for an early morning start.
They had several warmer days, but when it turned cold again, Einar seemed to relax. In spite of two or three loads a day, there still seemed to be no dent in the number of logs left to haul.
“Tomorrow you leave before full dawn,” Einar told Bjorn, “so we can do four loads. We will try a load with four of the smaller logs. Or five.” He shook his head.
“Is that many safe for this sledge?” Rune asked.
“We need taller steel posts on the sledge and can only do it with smaller logs.”
What could happen to shift the load? It wasn’t like Bjorn would be racing or anything careless. Even if the horses spooked at something, they would not be able to run away hitched to the loaded sledge. Stop finding things to worry about, Rune ordered himself. Einar was treating Bjorn like a man, even if he was only sixteen.
Lord, please keep
my son safe, he prayed that night. Keep us all safe, accidents happen so easily. Thank you for the many ways you bless us.
He hugged Signe close. “Someday soon, we will have our own house,” he murmured in her ear. This would be the first house they had ever owned. He’d dreamed of a log cabin, but since that was not really feasible, a farmhouse would be perfect. Even if they had so little furniture. They could use tree rounds for seats.
The next morning, Einar was his usual grumpy self. “Knute, you come right out to the woods when you get home.” He glared at Signe. “Haul branches.”
Knute looked to his mor, who shook her head before he could even ask.
Bjorn ate before he went to the barn and hitched the team to the sledge. The horses threw themselves into their collars repeatedly, but the sledge did not move.
“Frozen.” Einar motioned Bjorn down and took the reins, turning the team off to the side. He slapped the lines hard and yelled at the same time. “Hup! Move! Get on there!” At the third try, the jerk broke the sledge runners free. After straightening the team and pulling forward a length, he stopped them and handed Bjorn the lines. “Let ’em rest a few minutes to catch their breath, and then get going.”
One night a couple weeks later, with the pattern of three loads hauled one day and two the next, Bjorn got home long after dark again. Knute took care of the horses, taking time to brush them down and feed them extra oats.
Einar had already gone to bed when Knute returned to the house. “Far.”
Rune looked up from writing a letter at the table. “Ja.”
“I think the horses are losing weight. I could feel their ribs when I brushed them.”
“I will check them in the morning. Horses need rest just like humans.” And they could break down just like humans if driven too hard.
The next morning at the breakfast table, Rune turned to Einar. “I think the horses need more feed. They are losing weight. How about if Bjorn takes a measure of oats along for each of them to eat while waiting in line to unload?”
Einar stared at Rune, then shifted his gaze to Knute. “You figured that out?”
Knute nodded. “Ja, I could feel their ribs when I brushed them. I give them oats and plenty of hay.” He looked to his far, who nodded.
“Good.” Einar pushed his chair back and headed for the coatrack and out the door.
All three of the boys stared at their far, eyes wide.
Rune nodded. “Good is right. You are all doing a great job. And taking good care of the animals is both wise and compassionate. We depend on them, and it is our job to take care of them.”
“And each other,” Signe murmured under her breath, but not so low that Rune couldn’t hear it.
For the next three days in a row, they woke to icicles dripping and the snow melting enough to slide off the roofs in big chunks, whomping onto the drifts below. When one small avalanche happened during breakfast, Einar muttered an imprecation and glared at the window. “Keeps up like this, and we won’t get many more logs hauled in.”
Rune looked at him. “But we’ve not hauled any of mine yet.”
“You think I don’t know that? How many logs you got ready?”
Rune thought a bit. “Fifteen, I think.”
“You think? Good grief, man, don’t you keep count?”
“We got fourteen, Far. One still to limb.” Bjorn pushed back his chair. “Let’s get this first load out.”
“We got a full moon tonight. Work late, cut a couple of the downed ones into lengths,” Einar suggested.
Rune looked at Signe and gave a slight shake of his head. She glared at him but settled back without saying anything. Out loud anyway. “We do what we have to do,” he said quietly as Einar stormed out the door.
That night after supper, Bjorn turned to Einar. “Today a man came up to me and asked if we had a lot of logs to haul yet. Said he got his all in and could help us.”
“Nei. I don’t need any help. What doesn’t get hauled this year, I will haul early next. He just wants to cheat me.”
“But—”
“No buts about it. I said nei, and that is it.”
Bjorn looked at his far.
Rune shrugged and shook his head. I will go talk with him, he promised himself. If I can pay him with a couple of logs, I will have help to get ours in. Einar, I will never understand you, cutting off your nose to spite your face.
The next day, he handed Bjorn a folded piece of paper. “Give this note to that man if you see him.”
“You’re going to hire him?”
“I want to. If he can come out Sunday morning, we’ll go look at our logs.”
“Onkel Einar?”
“He’ll be out in the woods. But he will most likely yell when he hears I decided to do this.” Rune shrugged. “So be it.” Lord, I sure hope I have made the right decision.
Chapter
10
Holding the dinner basket, Rune watched Bjorn pull the gelding’s tail through the crupper, finishing up the harnessing. The boys were right; the horses had both lost condition. And here came a brace of fine Belgians up the road, pulling a light sledge. The fight was about to begin.
Einar came out of the shed with a handful of axes and stopped cold. “Who’s that?”
“Oskar Kielund.” Rune kept his voice soft. “He’s going to help me load logs today.”
As Rune had predicted, Einar yelled. “I told you I wasn’t going to hire him!”
“I hired him. My logs.”
Bjorn froze in his tracks and stared openmouthed at the two men.
Einar stood a moment, fury oozing out all over him. “Send him away and get on the sledge like you’re supposed to.” He turned away and waved an arm at Bjorn. “Boy, get on there. We have work to do.”
Bjorn didn’t move.
Rune dipped his head toward the approaching team. “Come.”
Bjorn hesitated, watching Einar, then ran over to Mr. Kielund’s sledge and jumped up on it. Rune felt a little swish of pride that the boy chose obedience to his far over fear.
“You go with that scoundrel, and you don’t need to come back to this house, do you understand?” Einar hollered. “You’re gone, you and your whole lazy family!”
Rune kept his voice level. “We will discuss it tonight.” He climbed up on the sledge behind Mr. Kielund, bringing the dinner basket with him.
The fellow clucked to his team and turned them aside, heading toward Rune’s land. “My sister Mildred knows the Strands. She said he might blow up. She’s good at reading people, y’know?”
“Apparently.” Rune turned to watch Einar as they slid over the frozen ground. He was shaking his fist and yelling, but Rune could no longer make out words. “Months ago, my wife, Signe, did some calculations and showed that we had more than worked out the terms of our indenture. He fumes and blusters, but he has no financial or legal hold on us anymore.”
Bjorn braced himself beside Rune. “You have a mighty fine team, Mr. Kielund. They’re the biggest horses I ever saw, and in really good flesh. Almost fat, even.”
Mr. Kielund chuckled. “They’re Belgians, lad. There’s blond Belgians and roan Belgians, y’know? And that’s not fat. It’s all muscle. They work hard and eat hearty, these two.” He pointed ahead. “Them the logs?”
Rune smiled. “Them’s the logs.” His logs.
Mr. Kielund pulled in beside the pile, jumped down, and began pulling rope and pulleys and hooks off his sledge. He had obviously done this many times. He smiled at Bjorn. “That fellow called you ‘boy,’ but I bet that’s not your name.”
“Bjorn Carlson, sir.”
“Bjorn, I’m Oskar.” Mr. Kielund extended a hand, so Bjorn shook it. “You’re a pretty good hand with horses. How about you unhitch that mare? Her name is Petunia, and we’ll use her to roll the logs up onto the sledge.”
Elated, Bjorn pulled Petunia’s lines free and unhooked her singletree.
Mr. Kielund was a pro at this. Within moments, it seemed, they had
a chain around the nearest log and a pulley system set up. Bjorn hooked the singletree into a heavy steel ring, and Mr. Kielund urged his Petunia forward.
The log tilted a bit and rolled onto the sledge. Mr. Kielund used a pole with a hook and spearpoint to arrange it just so.
Bjorn wagged his head. “That was sure quick. What is that tool?” He pointed to the pole.
“It’s a peavey. Real handy for making a log do what you tell it to.”
Bjorn laughed.
Just as quickly, they loaded a second log. Mr. Kielund chained them down. “I’ll take these two out and be back. I charge by the log, not the load. Two is plenty for the horses to handle.”
“Then have a bite to eat first.” Rune broke open the dinner basket and handed Mr. Kielund a sandwich.
Mr. Kielund sat down beside a log and started on his sandwich as Rune poured coffee. “Fresh bread! Really good bread. And the ham is excellent. Your wife’s a fine cook, Mr. Carlson.”
“That she is.”
Mr. Kielund chose a pickle and munched for a moment. “Yes sir, a fine cook. She doesn’t happen to sell these pickles, does she?”
“No, she doesn’t.” But what a great idea that was. Rune could build her a cold frame for starting cucumbers early. In fact, he ought to do that anyway. He would build a cold frame on the south side of Einar’s house. Gerd could use a cold frame too.
As Mr. Kielund drove off with the logs, Bjorn watched, wistful. “He sure knows how to do it, Far. And he doesn’t overwork his horses. Onkel Einar works his horses too hard, I think.”
“I think you are right. You have learned a lot from Onkel Einar, but you are also learning what not to do. I’m pleased.” He drained his coffee and stood up. “It’s probably unwise to go to the house with Einar so angry. Wait for him to simmer down. Let’s use the time here to take down one more tree.”
“Sure!” Bjorn hopped up. “Far, you think we can buy a peavey?”
“Letters, Mor!” Leif leaped up the steps later that afternoon. “One for us and one for Onkel Einar.” He burst through the door waving them and looked around. “Where is Tante Gerd?”
A Breath of Hope Page 8