A Song of Joy

by Lauraine Snelling

  To her surprise, Nilda realized that Sheriff Daniel Gruber was an ordinary fellow who doted on his daughters. He was actually pleasant to talk to when he was not being official.

  After dinner Gertrude called up the buggy for a meeting at her lawyer’s office. Sometimes Nilda was included in these meetings, but this time she was not. That was good, because she had so much work to do.

  But she couldn’t do it. She was too churned up inside, and not just by the situation with Mr. Galt, but . . . but . . . but what?

  She took a glass of apple cider out on the verandah. Already the air was so much cooler that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it out here much longer. The thought of winter drawing near so swiftly made her sigh. This weather was so perfect. The mosquitos were gone, and though many of the birds had already left, the cardinal’s song still pleased her ear. She couldn’t see him, but he would stay around through the winter. The chickadees were here too.

  I need to go to the farm. But I have so much to do. Soon, I will go soon.

  Donations for the housing project had slowed, but with the big ones promised, all would be well. The family in the first house had been coming to church since they moved in, but she could tell they were struggling with the language barrier.

  That’s what we need to do next. We discussed starting an English class, so it is time. I will talk with Fritz about how to get started. He’ll be here for supper tomorrow night. She went back into the house.

  Still she could not concentrate. She went to the piano and opened the cover for the keys. “It Is Well with My Soul.” What a fine hymn. Despite feeling churned up, yes, it was well with her soul. Sitting on the bench, she let the song float into her fingers. One by one, she touched the keys to match them with the song in her mind. Key by key, she heard the song come alive. At least she had the tune. She played it again and yet again, using the proper fingering now, not just one finger. But what to do with her left hand, besides keep it in her lap? Perhaps there was a church hymnal in the library. Not that she could locate it.

  She sat down at her desk again to think. And her “swift response” to Jeffrey shaped itself in her mind without her actually working on it.

  Dear Jeffrey,

  Please know that I truly enjoyed the ball, but I am not cut out to become a society wife. I don’t believe God designed and prepared me for that. I pray there is a woman out there who is just right for you, but it is not I.

  So please do not try to make contact anymore. I will not respond.

  Sincerely,

  Miss Nilda Carlson

  She read through it again, started to fold the paper, and instead laid it on the desk. She would give it a little time before sending it.

  By the time Gertrude returned from her appointment, Nilda was settled enough that she could work efficiently again. “It Is Well with My Soul” still played itself over and over in her head, not an unpleasant thing.

  At supper Gertrude announced, “We are going to have a meeting here on Saturday afternoon. You and I and Fritz and the attorney. I wonder if I should ask Mathew to come also. I’ll think on that.” She smiled at Nilda. “I know this seems rather muddled, but it will become clear at the meeting.”

  “Do I need to do anything to prepare?”

  “No, but I will invite Jane too.”

  Fritz got in late on Friday, wearing his work shoes. After supper Gertrude informed him of the meeting. “I think it is time,” was all she would say.

  Nilda shrugged when Fritz looked at her.

  The lady of the house stood. “Come, let’s go sit in front of the fire, catch up on the news, and then, Fritz, if you would play for us, I would be so grateful.”

  “Of course, my privilege.” He paused. “You are all right, aren’t you? I mean, this isn’t a health thing, is it?”

  “No, no, not at all. Just some business that needed taking care of. Charles will bring coffee and dessert to us in a while.”

  When they were seated and enjoying the warmth of the crackling fire, she asked, “So how is school going?”

  “Very well, and you cannot imagine the delight of some of our students with the books. That they can check them out was amazing to them. Some families have donated books too, although not a lot. Our families aren’t illiterate, but buying books is not as important as keeping food on the table.” He looked at Nilda. “That Leif, he keeps me on my toes with his questions.”

  “He is in your classroom again?”

  “Yes, I teach fifth grade through eighth. I know Knute is under duress, but he is improving, especially in arithmetic. Now that he has realized the principles underlying it, he is ready for algebra. When he was able to figure out how many boards of lumber can be cut from one tree, I think that opened his eyes to the value of education. I so wish Bjorn would come to school, but he feels he is too old for that now.” Fritz rolled his eyes. “Little does he know.”

  “He enjoys coming here.”

  “That he does. He and Ivar have become really good friends and work well together. You should hear our discussions on the way to your socials.” He paused and chuckled. “One day he brought me some fish he had caught. I was so surprised and enjoyed every bite.” He ate the last of the apple cake that Cook had baked. “I should have brought you some apples. Mrs. Benson’s apple trees are loaded this year.”

  He moved over to the piano bench and started playing from memory. When Gertrude yawned and kept yawning, she finally interrupted. “I’m about to fall asleep, so I will bid you both good night and see you at breakfast in the morning.” She yawned again on her way out the door. “Don’t stay up too late. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  Nilda caught Fritz’s questioning look and shook her head. “I have no idea what she is referring to, other than that the committee meets here at ten as usual.”

  “And she said we have another meeting tomorrow afternoon. Strange.”

  “I know.”

  “Why don’t you come sit by me, and I’ll keep playing. I think this is as relaxing for me as it is to her.”

  “And me.” Nilda could feel the warmth of his body when she joined him on the piano bench. After all, it wasn’t designed for more than two. Just watching his hands flow across the keys made her sigh.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You think my hands will ever move like that?”

  He nodded. “Of course, but remember, I’ve been playing the piano since I was a boy, and Aunt Gertrude insisted that I have piano lessons here at her house since we did not have a piano at home. She also insisted that I continue school and earn a college degree. My father thought I should go into business, but all I wanted to do was play the piano and teach children the excitement of learning new things.”

  “Not just children, remember?”

  “Oh yes, teaching English to immigrants.”

  “I want to start a class here in Blackduck, especially for the people who are moving into our houses.” The urge to lay her head on his shoulder jerked her upright. But it was definitely there.

  “So . . . do you hear from Jeffrey anymore?”

  “I hope not. I sent him a strongly worded letter.”

  “You did?” He grinned at her. “I am sure that if he has read it, he is hot under the collar.” He picked up a tune that sounded like galloping.

  Nilda recognized it. Wagner—which Fritz pronounced Vahgner—the “Ride of the Valkyries.” “I would love to hear that sometime with a full orchestra.”

  “And I would love to take you. It’s magnificent, what I call a take-no-prisoners piece.” He settled into a gentler tune, then segued into a hymn.

  “Would you play ‘It Is Well with My Soul’? I picked out the tune earlier.”

  “Did you really? I’ll find the music for it so you can learn the whole song. There should be a hymnal in the library.”

  “I couldn’t find it.”

  “Hmm. We’ll make sure there is one here.”

  She trapped a yawn.

  “You too? Then it’s tim
e to call it a night, although I would rather be here with you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He turned on the bench and took one of her hands in his. “You have the hands of a piano player, you know. Long fingers, soft.” He kissed her hand and let his forehead touch hers. “This is a small bit of heaven right here.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Her hand felt warm, a warmth that traveled right up her arm.

  He sighed. “Good night. We will enjoy all of tomorrow and sometime, probably in the evening, you will get a long-overdue piano lesson.” He shut the cover on the keys. “You are really not interested in Jeffrey?”

  Shaking her head, she replied, “Not now and never was.”

  “Good.”

  They walked up the stairs together, and at her bedroom door, he stroked her cheek with his hand. “Good night.”

  She hadn’t known what floating really was until she shut the door behind her and crossed to close the window that Gilda had left open so her room would be fresh. Surely it was the chilly room that sent goose bumps up her arms.

  The committee meeting in the morning held no surprises, for everyone agreed that the project was going well. Mr. Haglund announced that he had hired Yousef Sandborn to continue to work for him at the building sites, and when the others headed for the lumber camps, he would remain behind and finish the insides of the remaining houses.

  Mathew announced the pending donations and started the discussion on how the winter would go. “As Nilda reminded me, those families without the husband here will still need help.” The discussion ran from jobs for the wives to education to bringing in firewood. Those men who now had houses were out in the woods, cutting firewood and cleaning up debris while the other crews kept on building.

  After the others left, Fritz said to Nilda, “I need some fresh air. Care to go for a walk?”

  “Be back by noon for dinner,” Gertrude instructed, “and our meeting begins at two.”

  “We’ll hurry.”

  They were both puffing when they returned, cheeks bright from the brisk wind and fast walking.

  At two o’clock, Gertrude convened the meeting in the dining room. She introduced her attorney, then stood at the head of the table. “I have been giving this matter a great deal of thought, and after our last visit to Minneapolis, I realized I needed to do this sooner rather than later. I wrote a will years ago after Arvid died, but it is past time for it to be revised and updated. James, will you read the relevant portions for us, please?”

  “Of course. As always, working with you gives me great pleasure.” The attorney proceeded to tell them that Fritz Larsson was to be the heir of Gertrude’s estate and listed what his responsibilities would be.

  Fritz shook his head. “Aunt Gertrude, this is far beyond—”

  She interrupted him. “Just listen, please, and know that I am not planning on dying soon.”

  The lawyer summarized, “The will stipulates that Mr. Larsson will receive the training needed to manage the estate, and she expects him to learn anything else required.” The lawyer looked right at Fritz. “He will receive a prescribed amount monthly from the estate in recompense for fulfilling his duties. Do you have any questions?”

  Fritz looked stunned. “Many, but according to this, I will learn what I need.”

  “Correct.”

  Fritz looked at Gertrude. “I am a schoolteacher in Benson’s Corner, and I would like to remain there.”

  “Is there any reason why you couldn’t?” she asked.

  “No, but . . . but this wasn’t in my plans.”

  “I know, but plans can be changed as new and better ones open up, agreed?”

  The attorney looked at Nilda. “And you, Miss Carlson, will inherit this house and the means to maintain it, along with a monthly amount for your own use as well. And you will inherit her seat on the board of Schmitz Enterprises if you will consider it. The monies from that portion of the inheritance are still under negotiation.”

  Nilda stared. “But . . .”

  Gertrude raised her hand. “Remember, I plan to live a good long time yet, so in reality, our lives will all continue as they are.” She motioned for the attorney to continue.

  “You, Miss Carlson, will also be in charge of distributing the percentage of the estate that is designated as benevolence.”

  He continued, but Nilda’s mind hit a wall. If Fritz will be trained, so will you.

  Finally the attorney turned to Miss Walstead. “You have an exceptional gift for training young women. There will be a certain amount set in your name to work with other young women as you have Miss Carlson.”

  Jane shook her head. “Gertrude. . . .”

  She got the same raised hand. “We will discuss this all later, unless you have questions that I cannot answer.”

  “There are other beneficiaries, such as certain projects that Mrs. Schoenleber is interested in,” the lawyer continued, “but this is all that is applicable here. Oh, and I have been designated as the attorney for the probate and applications of this will. I look forward to working with each of you as I am needed. Questions?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “This is beyond belief,” Fritz muttered. “I, for one, would appreciate something to drink.”

  Gertrude rang the kitchen and put in the order. “Thank you, James. I appreciate your time and wisdom. Fritz, will you please see him out?”

  When Fritz returned, he shook his head. “All I have to say is that you better live a good long time yet.”

  “At least I will have the care I need, if I should need it. Nilda, this leaves you responsible for those who serve us here. While each of them has a designation in the will, I hope you want to live here, and if someday you should marry, that your family will enjoy this as their home.”

  “How will I ever manage the benevolence fund?”

  “Well, you have two good advisors here, and Mathew knows all the financial matters too.” She sighed. “There now, that is accomplished.”

  “Did you talk this over with Heinrik?” Nilda asked.

  “No, but he will be meeting with my attorney also. I did not want him to be in on this meeting, because he will become obnoxious, and while I have legally tried to cover all the possibilities . . .” She shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, affairs will proceed as usual as we all keep on living our lives, and he and the company really have nothing to fear. All they have to do is continue to remit my percentage of the family enterprise.”

  That night after Gertrude had won two hands at whist, enjoyed Fritz’s music, and along with Miss Walstead decided to retire for the night, Nilda and Fritz remained on the piano bench.

  “Nilda, do you know that I care for you, a great deal, actually?”

  She now knew what was meant by the phrase her heart leaped. “You do?”

  “I thought you were going to, well, marry Jeffrey, and I didn’t want to mess up your life.”

  “Mess it up!”

  “He could give you the world. Every material comfort. A simple schoolteacher cannot give you every material comfort. In fact, not many at all. And I didn’t want to destroy your opportunity to enjoy his wealth. Have you any warm feelings for him at all?”

  “No, not at all.” She shuddered.

  “I see that now. I do care, like I’ve never cared for anyone before, but I couldn’t offer you anything but life on a teacher’s salary, which isn’t much.”

  “What are you saying?” She was sure he could hear her heart thundering in her chest. Her mouth went dry, but when she looked into his eyes, all she saw was love. Her smile started and grew.

  He took her hands, his thumbs rubbing over her knuckles. “I—we have a lot of thinking and talking to do, since this is so new to both of us, but—but I love you.”

  Those three words dropped into the well of her hopes and dreams and sent out concentric circles. She raised a hand to stroke his face. “I did not understand how I felt, but now that I know you feel the same, I am fr
ee of the fear that we would only be friends. But I was grateful for that, because friends do try to spend time together and . . .”

  “And, Nilda Carlson, if you marry me, we will have the rest of our lives to explore how friendship that has grown into love can keep on growing.”

  “I will absolutely marry you.”

  His kiss was everything she had ever dreamed of—and more. He was right. So many things to talk about and learn about, but they would find ways to do that together.

  Lord, I guess you answered my question regarding your plan for my life. This is truly far beyond anything I could have imagined or dreamed of.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder as he played Debussy, softly and tenderly. However could she contain the songs of joy bubbling in her heart? No, not contain, but let them spill over to everyone she ever came in contact with. Perhaps she and Fritz could write their own song of joy.

  Epilogue

  JUNE 1912

  Sitting at the table out on the verandah, Nilda flipped back through her journal. Partly she was checking to see if she had failed to finish any notes or lists, but mostly she wanted to relive and rejoice in the months since Fritz had slid an engagement ring on her finger. What a Christmas surprise! She held out her splayed hand to help the ring catch the last rays of sunshine. Never had she dreamed of having a ring like this, one that stored light in its depths and sparkled back at her.

  Nearly every Friday night, weather permitting, Fritz rode into town for training in how to manage his aunt’s estate. Saturday mornings, Nilda and Fritz would walk to the river or other spots, sharing their news and dreams. Cook would have breakfast ready when they returned, and after that, Fritz would meet with any others that Gertrude felt necessary.

  Nilda’s big worry kept creeping out through the pages of her journal. How could she remain Gertrude’s assistant after Fritz returned to teaching in Benson’s Corner in September? She’d prayed so often, and her only idea so far had them living in his house most of the week, spending Saturdays in Blackduck, and then returning to Benson’s Corner to play the organ for church. That way Nilda might have enough time in Blackduck to keep up with her duties for Gertrude.