A Song of Joy

by Lauraine Snelling

  “I see. I will speak to my accountant, and a check will be in the mail for two houses.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him. “Are you serious?”

  He shrugged. “Do you need more?”

  “Mr. Jeremy Schmitz, you are restoring my faith in your family. I cannot begin to thank you enough.”

  “You can take me on a tour of Blackduck when I am able to come visit.” He grinned at her. “And I hear you are a rather accomplished badminton player. You almost beat my brother, correct?”

  “Personally, I think it was an accident.” She chuckled. “Beginner’s luck.”

  “I have my doubts that I should believe that, but here he comes, just in time to claim you for supper.”

  During the supper, she got Jeffrey talking about school and tennis so she only had to nod and smile once in a while. When the dancing began again, she danced once more with Jeffrey and then sought out Gertrude. Her employer was seated at a small side table in the corner with a glass of wine, talking to a matronly lady. It was not polite to intrude, so Nilda positioned herself beyond the lady.

  It worked. Gertrude noticed her instantly. “Nilda! Do come join us.”

  The matronly lady stood up as Nilda approached. “My dear, I have been hearing such good things about you. God bless you as you work to help those in need. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get myself some more refreshments. Please take my seat.” With a smile, she left.

  Nilda sat on the chair the lady had just vacated.

  Gertrude seemed relaxed, in charge. She fit into a formal occasion like this so comfortably. Nilda envied that a little. “That was the wife of the rector of the Episcopal cathedral. She dislikes these occasions almost as much as I do.”

  “How long will it be before we can leave gracefully?” Nilda asked.

  “Anytime you wish. I saw you dance after supper, so we will not be eating and running. Would you like to leave now? I’m certainly ready.”

  “So am I.” Nilda hesitated. “You’re not just saying this to please me, are you?”

  “Not at all. I weary quickly of these pretentious balls.”

  “I will go find Jeffrey and take our leave. Have you seen him?”

  “He is over at the bar.”

  Nilda glanced toward that corner. Glass in hand, Jeffrey was laughing with four or five other young men. “Is it all right to interrupt?”

  “Don’t bother.” Gertrude stood up. “He didn’t bring you, I did. Heinrik and his wife are over by the door, and it is Jeffrey’s mother who hosted. We can take our leave there.” She led the way to the door.

  “Wait. You left your wine.” Nilda pointed to the half-filled glass on the table.

  Gertrude laughed. “That is the drink they poured for me when we arrived. Keep that trick in mind. So long as you have a glass in front of you, they don’t urge you to drink.”

  Nilda chuckled as Gertrude walked over to Heinrik and took his wife’s hands in hers.

  “Maisie, this was a beautiful event. Just beautiful. You have a great talent. However, Miss Carlson and I are quite weary, and we beg our leave. Thank you for the gracious evening.”

  “Wait! You can’t leave yet,” Heinrik exclaimed as Jeffrey’s mother waved frantically at someone.

  Here came Jeffrey, groping around in his pocket as he approached. He found whatever he was looking for and dropped to one knee in front of Nilda. He held out a little red velvet box and thumbed the lid open. Nilda had never seen a diamond or even a fake diamond as large as this one.

  “Nilda Carlson,” he cooed, “will you marry me?”

  Nilda stammered. What could she do? “I—I think—I mean . . .” As weary as she was, in the next fifteen seconds she would determine the course of the rest of her life. “I want—I don’t want . . .” Gertrude could be no help here. She had said it was Nilda’s decision.

  What do I want?

  Nilda drew in a deep breath. “No. I’m sorry, Jeffrey. I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but no. Marriage would be a disaster for both of us.” She reached down and closed the lid on the jewelry box.

  His face melted into disbelief. “You’re not joking, are you?” He stood up. “You mean it.”

  “Yes. My decision is made.”

  “You’re supposed to be the girl who makes such wise decisions. But this is a stupid decision!” He should have been sad to be refused. Instead he looked angry. Or rather just peeved, not furious. “Nilda, don’t you realize that when you marry me, you need never work another day in your life? Never. You’ll have servants to take care of everything. You’ll be able to go to a ball like this every night if you want. I am offering you every girl’s dream: status and wealth. Surely you’re not going to turn that down.” He flipped open the little box.

  She poked it closed again with a finger. “You don’t understand, Jeffrey.” Her mor’s words came back to her. The reason Gunlaug was not happy in the Schoenleber home was because she could not work. Others did the work. “I want to work. I want—”

  “Go back to the farm you came from and work from dawn to dark every day? When you don’t have to? That’s foolish!”

  Foolish? She and her mor were foolish? Nilda was getting angry. “I enjoyed work on the farm. It’s a joy you’ll never know. You work hard, and when you’re done, you have a lovely garden, happy animals, a warm safe home, and plenty of wholesome food for the table.”

  “I see. You’re playing hard to get. You’re an immigrant. What do you want, a dowry? I’ll give you a dowry.” Now Jeffrey sounded angry, and that would not do. She could not think clearly if they were arguing angrily.

  She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “There are two reasons I’m saying no. One is that I want to work. With Mrs. Schoenleber, I am making a very important and positive difference in people’s lives. In whole families’ lives. And two, you do not love me, and I do not love you. We could not—”

  “Love?” Jeffrey snorted. “Love is for poor people who have no other reason to marry. Why do you think Mother is hosting this ball? It’s to celebrate our engagement. I will not take no for an answer.”

  “Never have you said you love me. You don’t even respect me, or you wouldn’t call me stupid and foolish. And I know my feelings. No.” She stepped back.

  Beside her, Heinrik snarled, “Gertrude, talk some sense into her. She’s had too much drink. She’s spouting nonsense.”

  For the first time, Nilda looked to Gertrude. Her employer wore a pleasant, peaceful, happy, proud look on her face.

  “I told you many times, Heinrik, that it would be Nilda’s decision,” Gertrude replied. “I will take my leave now. Thank you for the lovely evening.”

  “Allow me to join you.” Nilda nodded to Jeffrey and his parents. “Thank you for the lovely evening.”

  And she followed Gertrude out the door.

  Chapter

  26

  Nilda noticed that there was no night in St. Paul. With all the electric streetlights, you were never in complete darkness. Their hansom rattled its way from the ball toward their hotel.

  “I believe . . .” Gertrude stared out the carriage window. “No, I am certain. I have known Heinrik and Jeffrey all their lives. Jeffrey is a ladies’ man, a playboy, a bee who flits from blossom to blossom.”

  “And plays tennis,” Nilda added with a smile.

  Gertrude chuckled. “And plays tennis. Marriage has never entered his head. It is Heinrik.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you see, Nilda? Heinrik understands that I have been grooming you to take over bigger things. I am certain he fears you will take my place in the company rather than him or one of his sons.”

  “But wouldn’t making me his daughter-in-law put me even deeper into the company?”

  “No, it would neutralize you. You would be home, keeping house and raising the babies, leaving Heinrik to control the company.”

  Nilda’s head spun. What if Gertrude was right? That Jeffrey . . . that
she . . .

  “I may be wrong,” her employer concluded. “But obviously I believe I’m right.”

  Nilda thought awhile. “I think you are right too. It would explain his attempts to intrude, his making a show of liking Blackduck, his . . . his disdain. Is that the right word?”

  “Perfect word.”

  “But whether you are right or wrong does not matter. I have no intention of marrying Jeffrey, regardless of the motivation.”

  “Good. Let us talk of more pleasant things.”

  Nilda almost giggled. Her heart felt much lighter suddenly. She leaned over and wiggled her toes. “I cannot get these shoes off fast enough.”

  “Your feet hurt?” Gertrude leaned back against the seat. “I had forgotten how exhausting a ball can be. No wonder they will all sleep much of tomorrow.”

  “And we will be on the train home. What a trip this has been.”

  “Will you look at this.” Nilda picked up the letter almost reverently. “A letter from Tante Ingeborg to me.” She reread the envelope. Miss Nilda Carlson, Blackduck, Minnesota. So simple, yet all part of a miracle.

  She slit it open, started to pull out the paper, but instead rose and went to find Gertrude. She was sorting mail as well.

  “You have to listen to this.” She read the return address.

  “Well, I’ll be. Hurry, what does she say?”

  “‘Dear Nilda,

  “‘I know this is surprising since Gunlaug and I have so recently and after so many years made contact again. Her nice long letter has brought me up to date on all of her family, and I am especially intrigued with where you are and what you are doing. That is quite a change from farming and felling those giant trees. Here in the Red River Valley of North Dakota, the only trees are along the riverbanks unless we plant them. And you can believe we have planted trees, at least around the buildings.

  “‘I know Gunlaug will share her letters with you, so I will get right to the point. God has blessed us far more than we could have ever believed, so I would like to plant some Blessing seeds in Minnesota as well. What a grand thing it is to be helping the immigrants coming to work there. Where would any of us be if others did not help us? We can’t be there to volunteer, although we have some great carpenters in our family. As you know, farmers learn to do anything that is needed. But we would like to be able to give an assist, so if you could tell me how much money you need for a house, I will send you a check by return mail.’”

  Nilda felt her chin drop to her chest. “Can you believe this?”

  “Yes, I can, having met your mother. Our God is not restricted by miles, as we are learning.”

  Nilda nodded. “With the donation from Jeremy, we can do three more houses than we had hoped.” She had told Gertrude on the train of her conversation with the eldest Schmitz son and her delight in him. “I can’t wait to tell Fritz. He said he is coming Friday after school is out. He should be here for supper, if Cook will serve a bit later than usual.”

  “And she agreed with a smile?”

  “Oh, yes.” Nilda returned to the letter.

  “‘I will send the check to you, unless you would rather it went right to the bank. I am looking forward to hearing from you. You have cousins here who would be so thrilled to meet part of their family from Norway. I know this is a plea, but could you possibly bring Gunlaug here to visit? We would both be so thrilled, and you would have our undying gratitude. Blessings from Blessing, your tante Ingeborg.’”

  Gertrude glanced at the clock. “Isn’t Mathew supposed to be here at ten thirty?”

  Nilda nodded. “Yes, I’ll go get the papers we need for the meeting. And after that, you can be sure I am going to answer Ingeborg’s letter.” She left the room only to stick her head back in the door. “I’ll notify Cook too.”

  Nilda was just coming out of the kitchen as Charles ushered Mr. Amundson into the house.

  “So, how was your trip to the big city? Or cities?” Mathew asked.

  They filled him in on their trip as Charles brought in a tray and poured coffee.

  “So basically, the Schmitz company is not underwriting any of our activities here?”

  “True, but . . .” Nilda told him about her conversation with Jeremy. “I guess I’ll believe it when I see it, but that made me feel good.”

  “I understand.” He handed them each a list of the donations that had arrived since they left. “Those articles in the paper, that donation from the people in Bemidji, seeing the houses going up—all of that is, as we had hoped, generating more generosity. With the first family moved in and two more preparing, I am encouraged. And now with what you say, perhaps there will be funds to get several more shells built so the work on the interiors can be finished over the winter. I have to tell you, Thor talked with Henry and told him to go ahead and deliver the lumber for the next four houses, and he would stand behind it. Now we will have the funds to prove him right.”

  “That is wonderful.” Gertrude set her cup and saucer on the table beside her. “Have you gone through all the mail yet?” she asked Nilda. “There might be other donations.”

  “I got so excited at the letter from Ingeborg, I’ve not gotten any further.”

  Mathew handed them each a financial report. “The amazing thing is that all the volunteer work amounts to far more than those totals, if there were any way to compile that. Now, will we have our regular meeting on Saturday morning?”

  “Of course. I am looking forward to what Thor has to say.” Gertrude shook her head. “I am so proud of our town for the way the people here have joined in the efforts to assist the immigrants like this.”

  Mr. Amundson nodded. “Now, if it can continue all the way to the end.”

  “Ever the doubter, but perhaps that goes with being a money person.”

  “Possibly. I have seen folks too often not live up to their word.”

  Charles appeared in the doorway, looking grim. “Sheriff Daniel Gruber to see you and Miss Carlson, madam.”

  Nilda clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Show him in.” Gertrude sounded just as grim as Nilda felt.

  Mr. Amundson cleared his throat. “I must get back to my duties. Gertrude, blessings. Miss Carlson.” He nodded to them and left. Nilda heard him and the sheriff exchange greetings.

  The sheriff appeared in the doorway. Nilda stood, but Gertrude remained seated. “Welcome, Dan. Have a chair.”

  “Thank you.” He sat down, so Nilda sat as well. Her breastbone vibrated. Was he going to arrest her?

  Charles asked, “May I bring you something?”

  The sheriff shook his head, and Charles left. Sheriff Gruber looked at Nilda. “I’m sure you know a Pinkerton man has been poking around.”

  “Yes. Mr. Crawford Galt.”

  “He wasn’t going to give me a copy of his final report, so I quoted a nonexistent law about deliberately withholding information, and he caved. It has gone into the file about that attempted rape.”

  “So you know his conclusions,” Gertrude pressed.

  The sheriff smiled slightly. “When he came, he was certain Nilda was a seductress and that I was incompetent. Talking to Walt Nicholson, he got a different picture. So he tracked down the cook who worked out at Walt’s camp. You gotta hand it to him, he was thorough.”

  Gertrude’s eyebrows arched. “Isn’t it disconcerting when facts deny your cherished beliefs?”

  “Exactly. Well put.” The sheriff settled deeper into his chair. “He finally had to admit that maybe, just maybe, Nygaard was a serial lecher and maybe, just maybe, my investigation wasn’t so far off after all. In short, Miss Carlson, you are exonerated.”

  Relief washed over her like a tidal wave. She asked, “Did he say who hired him?”

  “I asked him. He said he couldn’t reveal that, citing confidentiality. So as he was leaving, I said, ‘Wish Dreng’s mother my best,’ and he just smirked.”

  Gertrude nodded. “As we’ve suspected. Thank you for coming, Dan. His investigation
was a cloud over our heads, all of us. I’m glad it is finished.”

  Charles appeared in the doorway. “Miss Carlson, a telegram for you.” He handed it to her and turned to Sheriff Gruber. “Cook seems to think you need a cup of fresh coffee and a sweet roll.”

  A grin burst forth on the sheriff’s face. “You know, Charles, I think she’s right.” He stood up.

  Gertrude smiled. “Better hurry to the kitchen before the rolls cool. I’ll join you there shortly, Dan.” He left with Charles, and Gertrude looked at Nilda, nodding toward the envelope in her hand.

  A telegram? Nilda opened it. “It’s from Jeffrey. ‘I cannot tell you how disappointed I am and I insist that you reconsider for your own good Stop You are only an immigrant farm girl Stop Do not make yourself out to be more Stop Only marriage to me can give you what you yearn for Stop I expect your swift response Stop Jeffrey.’”

  “My, my, my. The saddest part is that he so obviously reveals his disdain for you. Disdain is too kind a word. He considers you trash. Will he receive your swift response?”

  “Yes, but by mail, not telegram. I understand that the base fee for a telegram allows ten words. He must have spent a fortune sending this. My greatest concern is the effect on you. I am alienating your family. As you said, his father is the one encouraging this.” She shook her head. “How will I attend the board meetings and do my job for you if Heinrik Schmitz hates me? I know he does not like to be crossed. I have seen that in action. So will he take out his resentment on you?”

  “Nilda, dear, you let me worry about my relationship with my brother. And if you are forced to skip one or two board meetings to let him cool off, then that is the way it is. I told him this was your decision and that I would not coerce or advise you in any way. I believe that I have been faithful in that. And on top of that, he cannot fire me. Our arrangement is written into the will. Violate the will, and he loses his inheritance.”

  “You seem confident, so I feel better about it.”

  Gertrude headed for the door. “Let’s join Dan in the kitchen. I’m certain Cook made more than one roll.”