A red-gold line still marked the horizon as the evening star stepped out and beamed down at them. A breeze lifted hair and kissed cheeks.
“Did you finish the planting?” Gerd asked while spoons scraped bowls and one of the boys went back in the house for more buttermilk.
“Corn, beans, and squash are in. Along with the lettuce and most of the beets. Cucumbers and dill to do yet. Oh, and that second planting of corn, but I want to wait until this one is up first.” Signe rocked gently. “Takk to everyone.”
“We brought some more seeds. Perhaps tomorrow we can unpack the crate.” Nilda looked at her older brother. “You finished planting the oats?”
“Ja.” Rune sipped his coffee. “Einar had that seeder working perfectly, far as I could tell, but we’ll know for sure when it comes up.” He tipped his chair back on two legs, then thumped it back down when Signe cleared her throat. “Once the corn is in, we’ll move the cows and horses over to the smaller pasture so that field can grow up for hay.”
Lightning forked and flickered to the north.
“Heat lightning,” Rune said softly to Ivar’s nudge. “Not unusual here. Doesn’t necessarily mean rain, but that would be fine now. Water the oats in good.”
Signe sighed with pleasure. “And the garden.”
“I am getting up for breakfast,” Einar announced the next morning when Rune went in to help him.
“Let’s see how you do.”
“And no more of that—that—”
“Laudanum. If you say so. Do you need help getting dressed?”
Einar glared at him. “No!”
Rune shrugged.
Signe watched the interchange from the door. What an impossible man. She nodded at Rune’s questioning look.
“Get out,” Einar growled.
“Ah, no,” Rune said calmly but firmly. “I am waiting to see how you do. Head injuries are nothing to fool around with.”
Einar swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself upright. “See, I am fine. Get out now.”
“You are a big man, and if you fall, you are not easy to pick up.”
Einar tried staring him down, but Rune just stood there.
Signe swelled with pride over the way her husband was handling the situation. Poor Gerd had to put up with Einar all these years. No wonder she had aged and gotten sick.
Signe started to turn around but stopped when Einar pushed up with his arms and attempted to stand. He sank back onto the bed, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He blinked repeatedly, attempting to focus. “G-get me a chair. Must be that stuff you made me drink.”
Signe brought a chair from the kitchen and set it beside the bed.
“Your fault, that . . .” A string of expletives followed her back to the door.
“Einar Carlson, you may not talk to my wife that way. She has done all she can—we all have—to help you. But now you are on your own.” Rune headed to the door and smiled at Signe. “Let’s have breakfast. We have a lot of work to do.”
She smiled back and laid her hand on his cheek. “Takk.” What would it take to make that man . . . She knew there were no answers.
“Last day of school tomorrow!” Knute shouted over his shoulder as he and Leif headed out the door. “We get out early today too.”
“Takk for filling the woodbox.” She turned back to the kitchen.
“You ready for breakfast?” Gerd asked from the stove.
Signe glanced toward the bedroom door. “Did someone take his breakfast to him?”
“I will after we eat.” Gerd broke more eggs into the frying pan. The boiler steamed on the stove, awaiting the first load of clothes. Kirstin gurgled as she rocked her chair.
Rune looked at Bjorn. “Do we have enough firewood?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s Knute and Leif’s job.”
Rune stared at him.
Bjorn looked down at the table. “I’ll go check.” He pushed his chair back and headed out the door.
“So what’s for today?” Ivar glanced at his older brother but had a hard time keeping a straight face.
“You and Bjorn get the team hitched to the plow. I’ll do that, and the two of you can plant corn. There’s about an acre out there that is ready.”
“Will that be enough?”
“Probably not, but we are out of cleared land. Einar had planned on seeding the new field to corn. So that is what we will do, as soon as we get it plowed and disked.”
Bjorn dumped another armful in the woodbox. “We need to chop wood too.”
Rune drained his coffee. “I thought to feed Einar, but . . .”
“He’s snoring again,” Gerd reported.
“I’ll make sure he gets some breakfast.” Nilda glared at the doorway. “How bad do you think he is hurt?”
“I wish I knew.” Signe shook her head and smiled at Gerd, who set the plate of eggs and fried cornmeal on the table.
“He is always worse than a bear with a ripped paw if he gets hurt.” Gerd sat down, then started to rise.
Nilda put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get the coffee.”
“You come get me if he falls or causes trouble,” Rune said as the men left the kitchen. “I’ll be plowing that new section.”
Signe nodded. “Ja. If we need to.”
A few minutes later, Nilda finished her coffee and set the rest of the dishes in the pan steaming on the stove. “My brother has changed a lot in this year.”
“Ja, he has.”
After breakfast, Signe stirred the first load of sheets into the broiler, then showed Nilda how to get the washing machine ready. Together they took turns cranking, then running the clothes through the wringer to rinse.
“I like this machine a whole lot.” Nilda admired the wringer. “Never dreamed of such a thing.”
“Ja, Gerd says Einar brought this back from Blackduck one time.” Signe lifted the clothes basket. “Gerd, would you like to hang these up?”
“I would.” She took the basket and headed for the clothesline.
“Now that she can do it, she so enjoys hanging clean clothes on the line,” Signe murmured to Nilda.
With the two of them cranking and stirring and Gerd hanging, and the wind and sun doing their drying job, the sheets were dry before the fourth load could be hung.
When Einar woke up, Nilda took a tray in to him, and between the two of them, she and Signe helped him sit up to eat.
“Are you feeling dizzy or sick to your stomach?” Signe asked.
He glared at her. “Ja.” He looked down at the tray. When he lifted the toasted bread with a fried egg on top, his hand shook so hard that he had trouble finding his mouth. The egg fell on his chest.
“I will help you,” Signe said.
Einar shook his head. “Gerd.” He used his other hand to assist the first.
Signe left the room to find Gerd tucking Kirstin into her downstairs bed. “I think he wants you to help him.”
“Really? All right.”
Nilda returned to doing the wash, but Signe hovered in the bedroom doorway, just in case.
Gerd stopped beside her husband. “So you want me to help you.” She scooped up the egg with a spoon and held it to his mouth. He scowled furiously, but he ate it. She asked, “How is your head?”
“I’ve got to get up. Too much to do.” He leaned forward as if to try standing again, but fell back with a groan.
“You want more to eat?”
“Nei. I want to get up.”
“More medicine?”
He started to shake his head and instead swallowed and closed his eyes.
“Coffee?”
“Ja.”
“I am going to put some laudanum in his coffee,” Signe whispered when Gerd brought the tray out.
“Ja, good idea.” Gerd took the cup back in and held it so he could drink it without spilling.
He blinked. “Light too bright.”
“Then close your eyes.”
“Got to get up.�
�
“Here, finish this, perhaps you will feel better later.”
He sipped the rest of the coffee, and within a few minutes, the snoring resumed. Gerd picked up the tray and, shaking her head, returned to the kitchen.
“Should we send for a doctor?” Signe asked.
“If you want. But I think he will say we must wait to see what will happen. That he needs to rest so his head can heal.” Nilda laid a hand on Gerd’s shoulder. “We went through this with a neighbor. One of those things that take time. If it were winter, we could put ice or snow around his head to take away the swelling, but that bump is not as bad as it was.”
Gerd nodded slowly. “Ja, he is so hardheaded. Perhaps right now that is a good thing.”
“I think so.”
“I will bring in the things that are dry.”
Signe and Nilda ran the final load of laundry through the machine and the rinse. “That does it,” Nilda said.
“We’ll make egg sandwiches from the ones I boiled last night. I’ll get them from the well house. Perhaps Gerd would like to peel them.”
Signe paused on the edge of the back porch. She could see the two older boys out planting corn, and once she rounded the corner of the house, she saw Rune plowing the cleared land. Einar should have been disking with the other team. “Lord, help us. Help him,” she whispered as she reached the well house and unlatched the door.
Cool air flowed over her. The milk pans needed skimming, and they had more than enough cream to churn butter. Even after all Gerd had used for the egg and cream pudding last night. She picked up the bowl of eggs and returned to the house. She would skim the pans after dinner and have Bjorn carry the full churn to the back porch.
“Tonight we will unpack the crate,” Ivar announced after they had eaten dinner. He looked to Rune. “If that is all right with you?”
“Of course. Leif was asking me about it this morning.”
“Can we work on our cellar tonight?” Bjorn asked. “We should be able to finish planting the corn this afternoon.”
Rune smiled. “Sounds like a busy evening. When the boys get home, they can take over the corn planting, and you two could start digging. I’m hitching the other team to the disc.” He looked at Gerd. “I will help Onkel Einar sit in the chair, if he will let me.”
“If he wakes enough.”
That evening, when dusk shut down the digging, they gathered in the machine shop with the doors wide open to let the evening breeze blow out the heat of the day. Using a crowbar, Ivar lifted the boards of the crate, making the nails screech, so the boys could pull it apart.
“Look, Mor, a loom!” Knute pulled on another board, then dug a sliver out of his finger with his teeth. “Ouch.”
Signe lifted the lamp higher so they could see. “A loom like Gunlaug’s. And we have no room to put it together.”
“But we will when our house is done.” Rune unwrapped layers of wool from the loom. “And here you have wool to spin.”
“But no spinning wheel.” Signe sighed.
“Oh? You think so?” Nilda said with a twinkle in her eye.
“I will make you a spinning wheel,” Rune told Signe.
“Ah, Rune, look here.” Ivar pulled another package apart. “You just have to put it together.”
Nilda clapped her hands in delight when Signe covered her cheeks with her hands and the tears flowed. “I wanted to tell you so badly, but Ivar made me promise not to ruin the surprise. There is room in the parlor for a spinning wheel.”
“Gerd will be so pleased. She said we needed to buy sheep next year so we have wool. Mrs. Benson just doesn’t keep enough yarn in stock. Oh, I wish she were down here.”
“I’ll go get her.” Leif started for the door.
Signe shook her head. “She won’t leave Einar by himself.”
“Then I will stay there,” Leif bravely volunteered, despite his fear of Einar.
“That’s kind of you, but she knows what a spinning wheel looks like. We will tell her.” Signe stroked the smooth wheel. “Who made this?”
“Far did, last winter after you left,” Nilda said. “He said someone else would go to Amerika eventually and could carry it. Mor said to tell you that you must think of her when spinning and then weaving. She made those rugs wrapped around the spinning wheel for your new house.”
“Our new house.” Signe held one of the rugs in her lap, stroking the warp and woof. “She has always made such beautiful rugs.”
Rune stepped behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “We better dig faster. And this Sunday we will celebrate the baptism of our Kirstin with her tante and onkel there to be her godparents.”
“Will Onkel Einar be better enough that Tante Gerd can come too?” Leif asked.
Rune shrugged. “We can only hope and pray for that. Only God knows some things.”
“Leave it to Onkel Einar,” Knute muttered under his breath.
Signe heard him, but what could she say? For she had thought the same thing.
Chapter
22
Aren’t you coming?” Leif gave Gerd a hopeful look.
She shook her head. “It is better this way.”
He nodded. “I know, someone has to stay here with Onkel Einar.” He looked at Signe. “I’ve never seen a baptism before.”
“That’s ’cause you were the baby.” Knute made a face at him.
“We all wish you were coming, Tante Gerd,” Leif said, ignoring his brother.
“I will have dinner ready.” She glanced toward the bedroom, where Einar had resumed snoring after she had taken him breakfast. “It’s better when he is asleep.”
Signe nodded. They had put the laudanum in his coffee again, anything to keep him from being so restless and angry. She scooped Kirstin up and followed the others out the door.
“What a glorious day,” Nilda said after they were all loaded in the wagon.
Rune clucked the team forward. “Makes it easy to smile.” He pointed out the other farms as they trotted past.
Mrs. Benson met them at the church door. “We haven’t had a baptism here since I do not know when.” She held her arms out to the smiling baby. For a change, Kirstin leaned toward her, her tiny fist planted firmly in her mouth. She kicked her legs. Mrs. Benson kissed her cheek and cuddled her close. “She is growing so fast.”
Mr. Benson joined them, reaching to shake Rune’s hand. Rune introduced him to Nilda and Ivar.
“Glad to have you here in Minnesota,” Mr. Benson said. “I think you’ll find life a bit different here than in Norway.”
“We have already found that to be true, sir,” Ivar said with a smile.
The organ began the prelude, inviting the congregation to the sanctuary. Reverend Skarstead joined them, shaking hands and welcoming the newcomers.
“You have any questions about the ceremony?” He looked at each of them. When they shook their heads, he nodded. “She might cry and fuss a bit, but don’t let that bother you, all right? And you’ll be sitting in the front row.” At their nods, he smiled again.
“We’ll be sitting right behind you.” Mrs. Benson handed Kirstin back to her mor. “And how is Mr. Strand?”
“Up and down.” Signe looked to Nilda, who shrugged.
When the four of them rose to join Reverend Skarstead at the baptismal font, Kirstin sat in her mor’s arms, but when Signe tipped her to her back, she grumbled. When the water was patted onto her head, she screwed up her face and tried to pull away. The third time, she let out a wail that could be heard clear back to the farm. After the blessing, Signe lifted her whimpering daughter to her shoulder. Reverend Skarstead smiled at her and nodded.
After the prayer, they filed back to their seats, and the service continued.
Leif patted his baby sister’s hand and made a face at her that caught her attention and shut off the tears. Signe sucked in a deep breath and jiggled her daughter in her arms. She knew she should not be embarrassed, but what a howl. Some people in the congregation h
ad chuckled a bit, and Mrs. Benson patted her shoulder. Nilda nudged her and smiled, her eyes dancing while she tried not to laugh.
After the closing hymn and the benediction, Signe detected a certain smell. Kirstin definitely needed her diaper changed. “Excuse us.” She made her way down the side aisle and, with Mrs. Benson running interference for her, headed for the women’s room.
“She sure knows how to get attention, doesn’t she?” Mrs. Benson smiled down at Kirstin, who waved her fist at her from the table where Signe had laid her blanket.
“At least it did not happen when she was being baptized.” Signe wiped her daughter clean again and dusted her with talcum. She dug a clean soaker out of her bag and slid it over the diaper. “Now you are set to go, little one.” Kirstin gurgled back at her.
They climbed the stairs back to the narthex, where people were greeting the reverend as they filed out the door. Signe glanced up to catch a venomous glare from one woman and her husband. She tried to smile and nod, but her face refused to cooperate. Nilda nudged her side, having seen the nasty looks as well, and Signe turned to her and just shrugged. One of these days, she would have to sit Mrs. Benson down and learn the whole story behind the hatred she saw in some people. She knew it had to do with Onkel Einar.
“Thank you for bringing your charming baby daughter to us for her baptism.” Reverend Skarstead smiled at Signe and Rune as he shook their hands. “Baptizing babies is one of my favorite parts of being a pastor. I know all of you take very seriously your commitment to raise her in the faith and the church.”
Rune nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Did I hear that you are digging a cellar for a new house?”
“Yes, sir, we are.”
“When you are ready to raise the house, some of us will come to help. Mr. Benson will let us know when you are ready.”
Signe watched her husband try to find something to say. Some of the men had come to help dig the cellar, and that had so surprised him. But now this. Even when they had to put up with Einar’s venom.
“Takk, tusen takk.” Rune shook the reverend’s hand again and cleared his throat. “Thank you. I will let him know.”
Reverend Skarstead leaned a bit closer. “Rune Carlson, I want you to understand me. This church is part of God’s family—we all are—and helping each other is part of the family, in spite of past actions or the actions of some people. I believe that is why God stresses the importance of forgiveness.” He nodded. “Perhaps I need to preach and teach more on the subject of forgiveness. But talking about it is easy. It is the living of it that is hard.”
A Breath of Hope Page 18