A Song of Joy

by Lauraine Snelling

“They look fine,” Rune said, nodding. “Bjorn did just the right thing.”

  “I was scared to come look.”

  “Knute, you have a good head on your shoulders. Just keep using it and learning all you can.”

  “You mean school?”

  “Well, that too, but there are many things you learn by doing them and by being curious and seeking answers to your questions. Like you did with Mr. Edmonds and the hunting and trapping. He enjoyed talking with you because you kept asking more questions.” Rune let them out of the sheep pen and headed out to the field as he talked.

  “Thank you. I hope we can go fishing again soon.”

  “We will on Saturday. Leif and Gunlaug will be back on Friday.”

  “Ivar and Bjorn both went to stay at Nilda’s. Do you think I’ll get invited sometime too?”

  “Do you want to go?”

  “I’d rather go fishing, I think, but I’ve never been there.”

  “I’m sure that will happen. Nilda asked me if you would want to come, and I said to ask you. You’re almost a young man. You can say no if you want.”

  “No, thank you, huh?” Knute’s eyes laughed up at him.

  Rune realized the distance between their heights was not so much anymore. He tousled his son’s hair, knocking off his hat in the process. “Smarty.”

  Knute grinned. “Let’s go blow some more stumps.”

  Chapter

  15

  Where’s Leif?” Mrs. Schoenleber asked as morning tea was served.

  “Somewhere holed up reading.” Nilda looked at her mother. “I never dreamed he would spend so much of his time here reading.”

  “He was out helping George wash the carriage and polish the brass earlier today. I told him he could take the books home, but he hesitates.” Mrs. Schoenleber looked over her glasses.

  “I think he is afraid something might happen to them.”

  “I see. Well, I will have to do something about that.” She paused, then looked at Nilda. “Did you talk with Fritz about starting a library in their school?”

  “No, not yet. I thought to wait until he comes this weekend. Is there a library at the grade school here?”

  Mrs. Schoenleber smiled mischievously. “Now, would he let a day go by without establishing one in this school? The town also has a library of sorts. A group you may wish to join, Nilda, the Young Ladies of Blackduck, have set up a modest library and reading room. It is still in its infancy, but they hope to make it a true public library.”

  The Young Ladies of Blackduck. Nilda had heard of them but had not known they were setting up a library.

  “Our walk this morning was full of beauty.” Gunlaug mixed some Norwegian words in with her English but was doing her best to speak mostly English.

  “It is a beautiful area,” Mrs. Schoenleber agreed. “Gunlaug, is there something special you would like to see or do here in Blackduck?”

  “No, not really.” She looked at Nilda. “I brought a list for shopping at the mercantile.”

  “Ah. Of course! When visiting a large town, shopping is always high on the list.” Mrs. Schoenleber seemed to be enjoying Mor. “Why don’t you and Nilda do that after dinner? Leif can go along or stay here, it is up to him. When George drives you to do your shopping, if you like, he and Nilda can take you on an extended tour of the town.”

  Charles entered and stood by the door. “Mr. Crawford Galt, madam. He wishes to speak with Miss Nilda’s mother.”

  Nilda’s heart thumped. That man again!

  Gunlaug looked confused. “Who is Mr. Galt?”

  “A private detective, Mor. He did not say who sent him, but we’re pretty sure it was Dreng Nygaard’s mother. She hired him to investigate Dreng’s death. He has been asking questions all over town.”

  Mrs. Schoenleber looked grim. “His death was thoroughly investigated and the case closed. Then this detective came. Do you wish to speak with him?”

  “Can it do any good?” Gunlaug looked from face to face.

  Mrs. Schoenleber shook her head. “I truly do not know.”

  Gunlaug stood up. “Yes. I will speak with him.” She followed Charles out to the parlor.

  Nilda hurried to the alcove and opened the door of the dumbwaiter, listening.

  Charles announced Mrs. Gunlaug Carlson and told her that this was Crawford Galt. She thanked him. Nilda heard the door close as he left.

  Mr. Galt’s voice said, “Good morning, Mrs. Carlson. I am delighted to find you here. Several people I spoke with yesterday told me you are visiting. I hope your time here has been pleasant.”

  Mor replied, “Seeing my daughter is the most important reason. Now I will know what she is talking about when she comes home to visit. Please excuse my English. It is not very good yet.”

  “Your English is fine, madam. I understand you have not been here as long as has your daughter.”

  Mor explained to him about Far not wanting to travel, about missing Nilda and Rune and their sons, about Ivar coming as well.

  Then Mr. Galt asked, “In Norway, were you acquainted with Dreng Nygaard?”

  “I did not know him, really, but I certainly heard all about him. In a small town, everyone knows everything.”

  “But, madam, that is only hearsay.”

  “I am sorry. I do not know that word, hearsay.”

  Neither did Nilda exactly. She kept listening.

  “Rumor. Gossip. Facts that everyone knows, but they are not really facts at all, and are often wrong.”

  “Dreng Nygaard made unwanted advances toward my daughter, Mr. Galt. I believe the gossip, as you call it. I believe her.”

  “But can you be certain they were truly unwanted? After all, that is only what she told you.”

  Mor sounded almost angry. “My daughter does not lie, Mr. Galt. Besides, who would want that horrible fellow?”

  “A handsome young man from a background of wealth is very attractive to a young woman. Mrs. Carlson, I am going to pose a scenario here.”

  “I’m sorry, I do not—”

  “Sorry. I will rephrase. Let me draw a picture of what possibly could have happened. Mr. Nygaard and Miss Carlson are both new to this country, and they happen to find themselves in the same town. They both go out to enjoy the new snow. They happen to cross paths. Mr. Nygaard approaches Miss Carlson, who is an old friend, with innocent intentions. However, she believes the ugly false rumors about him. She attacks him in self-defense, if you will, before he has a chance to attack her, or so she thinks, and then runs home.”

  “No. That was not it at all. He was lying in wait and—”

  “You do not know that. You were told that by a person who intended to deceive you, to cover her own actions.”

  “That’s not—” Mor sounded so frustrated and angry.

  “Everyone who attended the dinner parties that Mrs. Schoenleber puts on for the youth in this town agreed that Mr. Nygaard was a perfect gentleman. Not the rogue you claim.”

  Nilda was sorely tempted to rush into the room and set this Mr. Galt straight. Would he believe her? Apparently not. She felt—how did she feel? Threatened! Accused of something she did not do. And she could see no way to bring the truth to light. Could this Mr. Galt get her arrested?

  They talked awhile longer, but Nilda’s brain was churning. Back in Norway, Dreng had sent her a note that said, I will get you for this. What if he got his revenge even from the grave? A perfect gentleman? Hardly.

  Mr. Galt took his leave. Charles handed him his coat and hat as Mor came out of the parlor and continued to the study. As soon as Mr. Galt was out the door, Nilda ran to the study.

  “Well?” was all Mrs. Schoenleber said, but it spoke volumes.

  Gunlaug sat down, looking worried and shaken. “He does not believe me.” She sighed. “And he does not believe Nilda.”

  “I fear he had his mind made up before he even left New York. I don’t think we can do much at this point besides wait and see. Now, let us change the subject to something more pleasa
nt than that unlikable man.”

  “Like the loom. What a lovely gift, Mor. Thank you!” Nilda beamed.

  Gunlaug nodded. “It was good of George to put it together. Are you sure you want to keep it?”

  Mrs. Schoenleber nodded. “If Nilda would like it here, that is all that matters. It isn’t as if we are short of room.” The women shared a smile. “There is a sewing machine in the sewing room too, but we have been so busy, I don’t think you’ve seen that. George put the loom together there.”

  “I would like to warp the loom before I leave.”

  “Of course. I see that I am about to learn something new, namely, how weaving works. I have never seen a loom in use. This is a fine opportunity to learn.”

  Charles appeared. “Madam, Cook announces dinner. I shall go tell Master Leif.”

  Mrs. Schoenleber stood up. “Thank you. Shall we?” And she led them to the dining hall.

  Nilda had no appetite and could hardly eat. Mr. Galt’s obvious desire to lay the blame on her made her stomach turn. But she must not let Dreng ruin any more than he had already. She smiled at Leif. “I know this isn’t what you want to do, but I want you to come along shopping.” She shook her head at his pout. “Sorry, but this is important if you want winter clothes for school.”

  “Knute isn’t here.”

  “I know. We will have to buy his at Benson’s. But this way we can make sure yours fit well.”

  He heaved a sigh. “May I take my book along?”

  Nilda chuckled. “If you must.”

  Dinner ended, Mrs. Schoenleber went to her study, and Nilda took Gunlaug out to the waiting victoria carriage.

  George smiled and tipped his hat. “Madam. Allow me.” He gave Gunlaug a steady hand up onto the carriage seat. He too seemed quite fond of Nilda’s mor.

  Leif asked, “Mr. George, is it all right if I read in the buggy while they finish shopping?”

  George laughed. “Or I could bring you back here, or you could walk back. Pay attention to the way we go. This is the shortest and best way back.”

  When they reached the mercantile, Leif smiled at George. “I can find my way back.”

  “You’ll miss out on a buggy tour of the town. Not that it is terribly large, but still.”

  Leif looked at Nilda. “Will I be sad to miss the tour?”

  “You can sit out here and read.”

  “All right. Thank you, Mr. George. I won’t bother you.” He left his book on the seat.

  Nilda caught George’s look. He kept telling Leif that he ought to be addressed as plain George, but Leif insisted on prefacing the name with mister. Nilda half shrugged and led her family into the store.

  Leif looked around. “This is lots bigger than Benson’s.”

  “Yes, it is. They serve a lot more people.”

  “Miss Carlson, how can I help you today?” The proprietress came around the counter to them. She remembered Nilda, but Nilda could not remember her name.

  “This is my mother from Norway, Gunlaug Carlson. She lives out on the farm and has brought a list for you today.”

  “Welcome, Mrs. Carlson. Do you want to give me your list to fill, or did you want to find things yourself?”

  Mor pondered this a moment. “Both.”

  “How about we pick out the items that need choices, and then you fill the rest while George takes us on a tour?” Nilda suggested.

  The proprietress smiled. “That will be just fine.”

  “We’ll start with boots and a winter coat for my nephew here, Leif.”

  “Very good. This way.” She led them to the shoe section.

  Gunlaug said, “We want him to try on boots. And we have a traced foot here for a pair for his brother.”

  The proprietress nodded. “I’ll take care of that.”

  “You mean I get a pair of new boots? I always have Knute’s when he outgrows them.”

  Gunlaug smiled. “That you do. But I saw his boots. And Bjorn’s too. You need new ones.”

  Leif sat on the floor and tried on two pairs before he made his choice. “These. I really like these. And I want them a little large so I have room to grow. I don’t want to have to give them away too soon.” He put the others back on the shelf and hugged his brand-new boots to his chest. “These are great. Thank you, Tante Nilda.”

  “Now let’s get your coat.” The brown wool one they chose was still too long in the sleeves, but it had an extra layer for inner lining, so it was plenty heavy.

  “Mor would say this is just right.” Leif looked at the sleeves. “I won’t need it for months yet.”

  Gunlaug nodded, smiling. “You make wise choices, Leif.”

  Nilda led them to the dry goods. “Now let’s look at some shirts and pants.”

  “That too? Tante Nilda, are you sure?”

  “Yes, I am sure. Mrs. Schoenleber wants to do this for you boys.”

  Leif shook his head. “This is an awful lot.”

  “You let her worry about that, all right?”

  Two shirts and two pairs of pants later, Leif joined George in the buggy. As Nilda was going back inside, she heard Leif say, “You have to wait a whole lot, don’t you?”

  And George replied, “Yes, but I don’t mind. That’s when I plan out things I have to do, like in the garden and the greenhouse. Sometimes I do the shopping for the house too. Cook gives me a list. And sometimes they call the list in and I just go pick it up. There are advantages to living in town.”

  There certainly were. And yet Nilda really missed the farm life, even though it meant hard work from dawn until dark.

  When Nilda and Gunlaug exited the store with several bundles, Nilda noticed Mr. Galt across the street. He was leaning against a light pole, watching them. Simply watching. Whatever did he think he was finding out? Would he never go away? He made Nilda’s stomach turn.

  Leif had laid aside his book and plunged deeply into conversation with George. The topic, apparently, was telephones.

  “I can see that a telephone is a big help,” Leif said.

  “That it is.”

  “They have one at Benson’s Corner and at Reverend Skarstead’s house.”

  George’s voice held amusement. “I am sure there will be telephones out on the farms someday too, as the telephone company plants more posts and strings more wires along the country roads. It might help your pa with orders for his skis.”

  “You think?”

  “Things are changing fast. In town we are supplied with both electricity and telephones, and I am sure they will eventually be available in all of Beltrami County. In fact, the American says they’re already contemplating rural electrification in Beltrami County. We’re growing fast.”

  As Nilda and Gunlaug reached the carriage, George put away his whittling knife and the garden stake he was working on. He stowed their purchases in the rumble at the back and gave Gunlaug a hand in. “Is there more?”

  “Mrs. Renborggen is filling the rest of the list for us to pick up later.”

  “Good, good.” He helped Nilda up into the buggy. “Now for the tour. Would you like to ride up front with me, Leif?”

  “Thank you!” Her nephew placed his bookmark, closed the book, and tucked it tightly into a corner before climbing up on the driver’s seat.

  They drove through the parts of Blackduck that Nilda knew well and parts she had never seen before. This tour, in places, was as new to her as it was to Mor.

  As they rumbled along a dirt path beside a brook, George said, “They plan to turn this area into a city park, much like that Central Park in New York City. However, we do not have their Mr. Olmsted to design it for us, so we must do that ourselves.”

  An hour later they arrived back at the house.

  “I’ll go back and pick up your purchases,” George announced as he helped them down. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Not that I know of,” Nilda answered. “Thank you. We’ll probably have to bundle things up to make it easier to load on the train.”

 
; “I thought as much. I have some cardboard boxes out in the carriage house.”

  “Afternoon tea will be served out on the verandah,” Charles said as they filed in the door. “May I take those things up to your rooms?”

  “I think George is going to box up the items that go home with my mother.”

  “I see. We’ll take care of all that, then.”

  “Uff da,” Gunlaug muttered under her breath. “Too much. Too much.”

  “As I tell you, life is different here.” Nilda unpinned her hat and motioned for her mother to do the same. The maid took the hats upstairs. “It has taken me some time to get used to this kind of service.”

  They joined Mrs. Schoenleber and Miss Walstead out on the verandah. “Mor, I’d like you to meet Miss Jane Walstead, my teacher and . . .”

  “Drill sergeant.” Jane extended her hand. “I am so pleased to meet you. Working with Nilda has been one of the pleasures of my life. You reared a fine young woman, Mrs. Carlson. You can be very proud of her. She works very hard and learns so quickly.”

  Nilda kept herself from staring with her mouth open.

  “We both feel that way, Gunlaug. Thank you for entrusting her to us.” Mrs. Schoenleber looked around. “Did you lose Leif?”

  “No, I think he is helping George.” Nilda rolled her eyes. “When he hears the magic word, he’ll come running.”

  “And that is?”

  “Cookies.” She nodded to the plate of gingerbread men, sugar-topped ginger cookies, and several other kinds. “I think Cook would like to keep him.”

  “Wouldn’t we all? We have hot tea, iced tea, lemonade, and coffee, if you prefer.”

  Once they were all served, Mrs. Schoenleber turned to Gunlaug. “I have boxed up some books for Leif, and when he is finished with them, he can give them to Fritz to go on his bookshelf in the classroom until we can set up a school library. Nilda and I hope to have enough books gathered before school starts for both the school here in Blackduck and the one at Benson’s Corner.”

  Gunlaug looked to her daughter, who nodded.

  “That’s one of my endeavors,” Nilda said.

  That night she joined her mother in her room, sitting cross-legged on the bed while Gunlaug sat in the chair. “I hope you have enjoyed your time here.”