Dakota December and Dakota Destiny

by Lauraine Snelling

  “That is why you sent Caleb away.”

  “Yes.” The one word held all the misery locked in her trembling body.

  Gudrun nodded. “I thought as much.” She looked over the tops of her wire-rimmed glasses. “For I’m certain you love him, as he loves you.”

  “Yes. I thought I could just start anew, I’ve read stories of others who have done so, but I couldn’t lie to him. How could I take more wedding vows when I am already married?” Johanna huddled into the back of her chair. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I wish I knew, my dear, I just wish I knew.”

  Chapter 18

  Dear God, I cannot go back, please, please don’t make me go back, Johanna prayed silently as she leaned against the chair, grateful for its strength to uphold her. Surely God wouldn’t ask such a thing of her, surely He wouldn’t. She let her mind wander.

  Raymond hadn’t started to strike her until . . . She tried to think back. Was it after Henry was born? He’d been a colicky baby and many nights even her pacing the floor with him hadn’t stopped his wails. Raymond roared that he needed his sleep if he were to harvest in the morning.

  At first she excused his fits, knowing he was exhausted and worried about getting the harvest in before the rains came. Then it was because he’d had too much too drink one night at a neighbor’s house. Finally, she knew it was all her fault, that nothing was ever done right, according to Raymond. The night he tipped over the highchair with Henry in it, to get to her, was the night he kicked her when she fell. She felt those bruises for weeks, mentally tasted the blood from the split lip, and remembered hardly seeing out of a blackened eye. He grew more violent as the months passed. Surely God wouldn’t make her and her children leave the safety they had found and return to that life.

  Gudrun sighed, bringing Johanna back to the present.

  “I think we can only pray on this for the time being. Surely God has a plan in mind, but so far we just don’t know what it is. Have you thought about what your options are?”

  Johanna nodded. “I can stay or go back. Either way Caleb will be out of my life.” The thought weighed like a sack of wheat with fear nibbling a hole in the corner.

  “I wonder if it wouldn’t be a good thing to tell Caleb the entire story.”

  “I—I couldn’t.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  Johanna shook her head and shook it again. “No!” She paused. “No.”

  “He might have a good idea . . .”

  “Gudrun, there is no law against beating your wife, she’s a man’s property to do with as he pleases, you know that.”

  “Thank God my Horace didn’t believe that way, I don’t know what I would have done.” Silence again.

  This time Johanna heard no voices from the past. Her little house and her growing business, they were hers and worth fighting for. If Caleb and her love for him were to be the sacrifice, so be it. Surely if Raymond were searching for her, he’d have come by now, before spring plowing began. He must have given up.

  “Thank you for listening to me.”

  “Humph, near as I can see, I about twisted your arm off to get you here and talking.” Gudrun made to rise. “I promise you, God will reveal His will in His good time. I’ve never known Him to fail.”

  Johanna quickly banished a recurring thought. Why had God allowed such cruelty in the first place?

  Knowing that someone else shared her burden made the days lighter. Each evening Johanna took a few minutes to look in God’s Word for His promises of protection. They were there but so were verses telling wives to submit to their husbands. She finished garments and started on newly commissioned ones. She made her first payment at the bank, feeling one step closer to owning the shop free and clear.

  One afternoon, after Dag hung a swing from the oak branch for Henry, for the first time Henry discovered the joy of being pushed into the air. Since the weather was warmer, he played outside much of the time. One day she heard a yip and went to the window to see Sam charging through the opened gate and over to the boy. Caleb waited for him at the street, leaning backward against the fence post as if he couldn’t bear even to look at her house.

  He must hate her. Or not care anymore.

  Wasn’t that what she wanted? Him to stop caring and her heart to mend?

  A few days later she put the children in the red wagon and walked over to the mansion, pulling the wagon behind her. Mrs. Hanson greeted them with cries of delight.

  “Clara, look who’s here. Go tell Gudrun. Come in, come in, the coffee will be ready in a jiffy.” She took the smiling baby from Johanna and, after hugging her and planting a kiss on the rosy cheek, carried her into the kitchen, talking all the while.

  When Clara returned she hugged Johanna and stooped down in front of Henry. “How’s my favorite boy today? Brought your wagon, I see.” Henry nodded, eyes bright and a smile showing off the dimple in his cheek. “I think Mrs. Hanson has cookies in the cookie jar, but if I get you one, you won’t tell anyone, will you?” He shook his head, the grin even broader.

  Gudrun, her cane bearing more of her weight than ever, tapped her way into the room and greeted them all. As soon as she sat down, she motioned Henry over. “Why, Henry, I think you’ve gotten all grown up since I saw you last.” She cuddled him in the crook of her arm when Mrs. Hanson leaned over to see Angel.

  “Ain’t she just the purtiest?”

  “Lives up to her name, that’s for certain.” She reached up and took the baby onto her lap. Angel gurgled and cooed, waving her arms and kicking her feet free of the blanket.

  “She’s getting to be a handful to hold nowadays. She wants to keep up with Henry already.” Johanna sat down across the table. “She thinks riding in that wagon and seeing the world is the greatest thing since the wheel was invented. The streets are finally dry enough we don’t sink up to our ankles in the gumbo.”

  “Have you started your garden yet?” Clara asked, taking another chair and drawing Henry to her.

  “I’ve gotten some digging done but the sewing keeps me so busy, I don’t know how to do it all.”

  “Why don’t we send Frank over to spade it up for her?” Mrs. Hanson set the coffee cups in front of them and a platter with cake and cookies both on the table.

  “It’s too small to bring a horse in to plow it, or I’d have asked Dag if he knew someone who would do that.”

  “Well, don’t you worry, another couple of days and Frank can take a break here and help you.” Gudrun looked up from talking with the baby. “I think she understands every word we say.”

  The words Johanna really wanted to hear were about Caleb but she couldn’t bring herself to ask any questions about him. Strange how in a town, so small, they didn’t run into each other at all. Perhaps he was being as careful to stay away as she. “Thank you, I would surely appreciate the help.”

  They chatted about the goings-on of Soldahl but no mention was made of Caleb. When Johanna got to her feet, saying it was time for them to head on home, Clara volunteered to walk partway with her. Mrs. Hanson tucked a packet of things she’d been collecting into the wagon.

  “Just for your supper, nothing much.” She hugged Henry, smacked a last kiss on Angel’s cheek, and handed her to her mother. “You don’t wait so long to come back, you hear?”

  “I won’t.” They waved good-bye and started down the walk. Clara pointed out the tips of the tulips and daffodils peeking from the ground and they laughed at a squirrel scampering up a tree. Clara turned into the blacksmith shop with a wave good-bye and the others continued on to the little house set back from the street.

  That evening when she was at her sewing machine again, Johanna thought back to the day. For the first time since her marriage, she had friends, true friends who cared what happened to her. What a pleasure it would be to have a man dig up the garden for her. Later she found herself humming a tune in time with the treadle.

  Sunday her heart leaped nearly out of her breast when she saw Caleb
sitting in a pew, second from the rear. Ingeborg invited her down front to sit with her and her finally recovered brood so she made her way up the center aisle. Her back felt as if two smoldering coals were laid side by side on it. When would the sight of him not affect her so strongly? Nightly she’d prayed to be delivered from the love she felt for him. And just when she thought she was on the mend, this happened.

  Mary asked to take Angel so Johanna held Henry on her lap instead. He peeked out around her shoulder at the antics of one of the young Moen boys, whose mother kept shushing and sending threatening glances. Once Henry giggled. His mother hugged him close, grateful for any sound he made. Perhaps one day he would talk again, now that he felt safe.

  Reverend Moen based his sermon on the tale of Onesimus, the slave Paul told to go back to his master. Each word bit into Johanna’s heart. Was God saying she had to go back? By the end of the sermon, she felt sure. A calm settled over her, and she squared her shoulders and her will. If God demanded this, surely He would give her the strength to carry it out. What would she do when she got there? All she knew was if this were the price of peace of mind, steep though it was, she believed God knew what He was doing.

  He was telling her to go back to Wisconsin.

  “You’ve decided, haven’t you?” Gudrun walked out with her.

  “How do you know?”

  “The answer is in your face, my dear. Now we must work out how to do this great deed.”

  “We?”

  “You did not think we would leave you to fight this battle alone?” Gudrun shook her head. “No, that’s what friends are for, to share a burden.”

  “But—but you’ve been ill and . . .”

  “And you think I’m too weak for such a trip?”

  “No—yes—I don’t know.” She looked down in time to see Henry dart across the grass. He flung himself at the sheriff’s legs and his face nearly cracked in two when Caleb picked him up. The two hugged each other, the boy disappearing in the strong arms of the man.

  Gudrun followed her gaze. “Those two are a pair, are they not?”

  “Yes, they are.” If only she dared to do the same.

  “Back to our discussion. When would you like to leave?”

  Johanna tore her gaze from the man and child and returned to Gudrun. “As soon as I have the money for the train fare.”

  “If that’s all, we can leave tomorrow. Henry will stay at our house. Of course he will be spoiled rotten by the time we return. Since you are still nursing, Angel will have to go with us.”

  “I—I . . .” Johanna now knew what it felt like to be caught in a tornado and spun around, all out of control. “I have two orders that have to be finished first. Gudrun, I cannot keep taking charity from you like this.”

  “Call it a loan then. You can pay me back when you can.”

  Clara came to stand beside them. “What have I been missing?”

  “Johanna and I are leaving for Wisconsin on Thursday.” She smiled at Johanna. “That will give you time, right?”

  The younger woman nodded. She couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it.

  “Good.” Clara reached for Angel. “Please let me hold her for a bit. I need to get some practice in.” She turned as Caleb came up to them, Henry on his shoulders, both hands lodged in Caleb’s hair.

  “Isn’t she beautiful, Caleb? She’s growing so fast.” Clara held tightly to the squirming baby. “I think she wants to get down and run with the other children. Won’t be long now, will it, sweet thing?” Angel gurgled and cooed back, her arms and feet going as if she were already on the ground and running.

  Caleb reached a finger to touch the baby’s face. She grabbed on and pulled it into her mouth, slobbering and gumming it as if it were the greatest treat.

  “Ouch.” He pulled back. “She’s got teeth.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Johanna said with a smile.

  “You want to bet?” Caleb pried open the baby’s mouth. “See, right there.” A flash of white glowed against the pink gums.

  “Her first tooth.” Johanna took a hankie from her pocket and wiped Angel’s chin. “I hope she didn’t hurt you.” She looked up at him from under her lashes.

  “I’ll live. I have something for Henry. Is it all right if I bring it by this afternoon?”

  “Of course.”

  “See you later, son.” He sat the boy down beside his mother, tipped his hat to the women, and strode off, greeting others as he went.

  Johanna laid a hand on her son’s shoulder, keeping him by her side, when she knew all he wanted was to dart after the sheriff. His eyes said it all. He missed Caleb about as much as she did.

  “I will check the train schedule and let you know what time we leave. Mrs. Hanson will fix us a basket of food—she never lets anyone leave without being heartily prepared—and we will be on our way.”

  “You ladies about ready to go home?” Dag called from the buggy he pulled up by the end of the walk.

  Gudrun nodded. “If there is anything you need, you ask, all right?”

  She peered over her spectacles at Johanna, waiting for an answer. When Johanna finally nodded, Gudrun took her by the arm. “Come, we will give you a ride home.”

  Later that afternoon a knock on the door brought both her and Henry to see who it was. Caleb stood on the porch, an open box in his arms and Sam by his side.

  “We brought this little guy for Henry, to kind of replace Sam. Since Sam is the pa, I thought that might make him even more welcome.” He squatted down with the box so Henry could see and looked up at her. “It’s all right, isn’t it? I know I should have asked you first but . . .”

  “It’s fine, Sheriff. I’ve been meaning to get him a dog soon as we heard of someone who had a litter.”

  Henry dropped on his knees beside the box. He stroked the wriggling puppy’s head and ducked when Sam gave him a quick lick.

  “You can hold him.” Caleb read the plea in the boy’s eyes. “He’s eight weeks old and already been trained to eat solid food. ’Fraid he’s not housebroken though, but he should learn quick, if he’s anything like his pa.” He gave Sam a thump on the ribs.

  Henry picked the puppy up and snuggled him under his chin. The puppy licked every bit of bare skin he could reach and then repeated the measure. Henry looked up at his mother who nodded, and then over at the sheriff, and back at the puppy. The grin he wore scrunched his eyes nearly closed and his infectious giggle left Johanna heartbroken.

  “Thank you, Caleb.”

  Caleb got to his feet. “Johanna, we have to talk.”

  “I know. Gudrun and I are leaving on the train on Thursday and when I return I will tell you everything.” She knew she’d return if for no other reason than to close her shop and retrieve Henry.

  “I will wait.” He bent down to Henry. “You take good care of that little one now, you hear. He’s your dog, not your ma’s.” Henry nodded, his eyes round. “Good, then I must be going.” Caleb tipped his hat, patted Henry on the shoulder, and strode off down the walk.

  Johanna sighed. What was it she would be telling him?

  Chapter 19

  The clacking of the rails lulled Angel to sleep.

  “She’s getting to be a busy one, isn’t she?” Gudrun asked from the seat across the private room. She had insisted on such accommodations, saying that Angel needed space to play on the floor or her mother would be exhausted by the time they reached Wisconsin. And so would she. If only she could nod off so easily, Johanna thought wistfully. The last few days had been a nightmare what with trying to finish the existing orders, not take any new ones, and mop up after the puppy, now dubbed Samson. The frisky fellow still hadn’t quite got the hang of asking to go out. She knew it wasn’t Henry’s fault. He kept Samson outside with him much of the day. They had claimed a corner of the garden Frank dug up and were busy digging a hole. No matter how hard she tried to convince the boy that until the puppy was housebroken, he had to sleep on the back porch, she would find the pup, s
nuggled right under Henry’s arm, on her son’s bed.

  She smiled when she remembered the horrified look on Mrs. Hanson’s face when they arrived, puppy in tow. But right away she’d fixed a box behind the kitchen stove. Johanna was willing to bet that Henry would be found sleeping back there or the puppy would end up in his bed every night they were there.

  She looked over at Gudrun whose head was bobbing drowsily. “Why don’t you lie down on the seat and let me cover you with the quilt?” she whispered so as not to disturb Angel.

  The old woman blinked awake. She covered a yawn with her gloved hand. “I think I will at that. I’d forgotten how lulling a train ride can be.

  Johanna reached up into the overhead compartment for a pillow to go along with the quilt. They had brought their own when Mrs. Hanson had a fit at the thought of her friends using those provided by the train. After all, who knew who had used them last?

  When the old woman was settled, Johanna wrapped the other quilt around her shoulders and lay down herself. Better to sleep while, and if, she could. Who knew how well Angel would be behaving by nightfall?

  They changed trains in Fargo and then again in St. Paul. They were due to arrive at Hammerville, Wisconsin, before first light. Every clack of the wheels reminded Johanna of the trip she’d made west in December, the weeks of running, always fearful of Raymond tracking them. She shuddered at the thought. Her, big as a house, and Henry plastered against her side, terrified of every sound.

  Johanna had all their things repacked and ready at the door when the conductor announced their stop as one after the next. Angel still lay asleep. Johanna thanked the Lord for the favor and repinned her hat in place.

  Dawn had only cracked the dark when they stepped onto the station platform. Johanna looked around, feeling as if she had stepped into a different world. She’d come here once with the wagon to pick up machinery that Raymond had ordered but was too busy to pick up. After the train pulled out, she could hear a dog bark in the distance and the familiar crowing of a rooster.

  Hammerville, what would they find here? Even the sound of the name brought back painful memories.