Rebecca's Reward

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Rebecca's Reward Page 3

by Lauraine Snelling


  Haakan tamped the tobacco down in his pipe with one finger. “But not all the men are married or belong to Blessing Lutheran Church. And some of those young fellows like a drink or two. You know how they were after Sophie to put liquor in at the boardinghouse.”

  “So I suppose Mr. Jeffers should turn Penny’s store into a saloon?” Sarcasm bled out of her comment.

  Straight-faced as a judge, Haakan stared at Thorliff. “Probably not a bad idea, finance-wise.”

  “Haakan Bjorklund, what a thing to say!” Ingeborg glared at her husband, then caught the slight raising of his right eyebrow that always meant he was teasing. She huffed a sigh and shook her head, pushing at his shoulder. “Oh, you.”

  Thorliff shoved back his chair. “I better be heading on home before you two get into a fistfight.” He fetched his long sheepskin jacket and knitted scarf and hat from the hat rack by the door and winked at his mother as he put them on. “I agree. We do need a town meeting, and we better make sure Harlan Jeffers is there. Maybe he’ll get the message and this won’t become an issue.”

  If he’s as stubborn as most men, we have problems ahead. If only Penny were still here and running her store in the exemplary way she always had. “How’s the flour mill doing?” she asked as she wrapped the cake and cookies in a cloth.

  “Garth has it running well. He’s a good man, that’s for sure. We had them over for supper last Sunday, and Grant and Inga had a great time playing together. Bumping down the stairs was their latest trick.”

  “Ouch.” She handed him the packet. “Where are you going to carry this?”

  “Tucked inside my shirt. Should have brought a sack.”

  “You need any eggs or cheese?”

  “I can’t carry those too.” He pulled on his gloves after tucking his scarf in around his neck. “Astrid can bring some in next time she comes.”

  Haakan and Ingeborg waved and called their good-byes from the porch as he skied off across the fields.

  “Brrr.” Ingeborg grabbed an armload of wood from the stack on the closed-in back porch and brought it in to dump in the woodbox. “The wind has picked up.”

  “Ja. Good thing he didn’t stay longer. I’m going to milk early. Don’t like the look of those clouds.” He set his barely smoked pipe back on the shelf and bundled into his chores clothes. “Wish we had a way to tell Andrew to stay to home.”

  The sound of boots on the porch made him chuckle. “Speak of the devil.”

  “You mean the angel.”

  “Hey.” The door opened and Andrew, their second son and a farmer at heart, stepped in. “Getting mighty cold out there.”

  “You go on back home, and I’ll milk.”

  “No. I needed to come anyway. Mor, do you have any of that cough syrup? Carl is coughing again.”

  “I’ll bottle some up for you. Stop in after you milk. Is he bad off?”

  “Woke up from his nap, crying and rubbing his ears.”

  “Earache too. I’ll get some things together and write down instructions.”

  “Good. Come on, let’s get the milking over with.”

  The two men headed for the barn, and Ingeborg began gathering supplies. Sweet oil to be warmed and dropped into the ears, then stuffed with cotton. She set the bottle and bits of cotton fluff into a basket, along with the cough syrup, shredded willow bark to make tea to help with pain, and goose grease with ground-up winterberries to rub on his chest. She studied the bottles of simples she had collected over the summer and some she had purchased from a company in Minneapolis. She sat down and wrote out the instructions, including a reminder on how to build a tent with a towel over a steaming kettle on the stove to help the little one breathe better.

  Maybe I should go over there, she thought, knowing she could take care of little Carl and let her daughter-in-law get some extra sleep. With Ellie’s due date drawing nearer, she finally admitted to being tired at times. Soon Ingeborg would have a third grandchild. They figured in February. All those years she’d wanted more children, but God didn’t see fit for it to happen. Now there were babies in the house again, and Ingeborg loved every minute of it.

  Please God, make little Carl better quickly. And keep us all safe if that is a blizzard bearing down again. The wind howling and shrieking around the house in a blizzard still brought back images of their first year on the prairie when so many had died. The wind had fought to blow them right off the land or at least out of their minds.

  3

  January 1903

  “I AM NINETEEN YEARS old and not married or even being courted.”

  “That doesn’t make you an old maid.” Astrid stared at Rebecca in consternation.

  “Or a spinster.” Deborah MacCallister continued the thought.

  “Then what does it make me?”

  “Unhappy, it sounds like to me,” Sophie Knutson Wiste said with a shrug.

  “I am. And sometimes I’m jealous, and I don’t like me very well when I feel that way.” Rebecca stared around the circle of her closest friends, friends since her childhood, except for Maydell, who was Ellie’s friend from Grafton. They were all gathered at the boardinghouse, ostensibly celebrating the new year but really celebrating Rebecca’s November birthday. She gave Ellie, rounding with another baby, a half smile. “Look at you, married to the man you’ve always loved. You have the sweetest little boy, and soon you’ll be having another baby. Far as I can see, you have the best of everything.”

  Her gaze moved to Sophie. “And while you had a terrible time what with Hamre dying, now you have a whole family and a wonderful business.” She motioned around them. “Four children, including twins, and a man who adores you.”

  Sophie nodded. “I thank God every day for Garth and my family.”

  “I’m not married.” Astrid, like the others, was sitting cross-legged on the floor. “I’m not even interested in any guy, so does that make me an old maid, since I don’t want to be married yet?” She propped her elbows on her knees.

  “We know all you want is to go to school and become a nurse.” Deborah smiled.

  “She’s not just wanting to be a nurse anymore,” Ellie said, shifting to get more comfortable. “She’s becoming a doctor, thanks to Dr. Elizabeth’s training her. All those years of sewing are coming in mighty handy.”

  Astrid gave Ellie a little shoulder nudge. “Remember our first samplers? Yours was nice and neat, and mine was all over the place. No two stitches matched.”

  “I was hoping Grace would be able to stay long enough for our party, but she had to get back to New York. She’s sure not doing what she thought she would be, but far as I could see, she is really happy teaching at the Fenway School for the Deaf, even though she is far away from Blessing.”

  “Who would have thought Grace would leave Blessing and go so far away? All she wanted to do was stay here and marry Toby.” Astrid sighed. “Life is strange.”

  “She never even told me she loved Toby until last summer.” Sophie shook her head. “Guess I wasn’t being very observant.”

  “Nope, you weren’t.”

  Sophie poked Astrid. “You don’t have to be so blunt about it.” “She’s not married.”

  “No, but she sure is in love.” Rebecca’s eyes turned dreamy. “And with Jonathan Gould, no less.”

  Astrid wrapped her arms around her raised knees. “Grace is an amazing woman, and she doesn’t even begin to realize who she is. I miss her so much. She was the closest I’ve ever had to a sister.” She reached over and patted Ellie’s arm. “Other than you. Of course, we did grow up together until Onkel Olaf moved you away. I cried and cried after you left. All those years of living so close.” She tipped her head back to stretch her neck. “And Andrew. He turned into a grouch overnight. Took him a long time to get over that. I can still hear him saying”—she deepened her voice—“ ‘Someday I’m goin’ to marry up with Ellie.’ “

  “And he did.” Sophie passed the bowl of buttered popcorn around the circle. “Here, have some more. Mrs. Sa
m will be bringing in something else pretty soon.”

  “Something else?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Well, I have an opinion, if you’d like to hear it,” Maydell announced, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

  Ellie grinned at her best friend from Grafton, who had come to visit and help out for a while. “You always have an opinion, Maydell. I’m thinking you’ve been mighty quiet.”

  “I had to catch up on the news. You’ve not been the best correspondent.”

  “That’s because I can’t find the time to write, and when I sit down to do so, a letter to Mor is all I get done before I fall asleep. In fact, her letters take a couple of days to write. I don’t know how our mothers did it all.”

  “They helped each other.” Astrid reached for more popcorn from the crockery bowl in the center of the circle. “You know, we could sit on the chairs.”

  “But this is cozier.” Sophie reached behind her and tossed Astrid a pillow. “Sit on that.” She leaned back against the side of the bed. “I’ll tell you, even with help, having four little children around all the time eats up the hours.” She tipped her head back. “And energy.”

  “So two of you are married and have children, and the rest of us are single and sometimes helping you who need more help.” Deborah looked around the circle. “Astrid knows what she wants to do.”

  “I know what I want to do too; it’s the doing thereof that is difficult.” Rebecca blew out a huff. “The one thing I want to do that I have some chance of doing is my soda shop. Now that we will have cows again, I am going ahead with my dream. First Gus said he’d help me”—she rolled her eyes—“now he’s grumbling at me, and since Maisie Christopherson is selling out her dress shop …” She paused and glanced at Sophie, who shrugged.

  “What can I say? Miss Maisie likes working here at the boardinghouse, and she has a good head for business. Hiring her full time was one of my better ideas. Garth is happy that I am home more now. So are the children.”

  “So I am going to turn her shop into the Blessing Soda Shoppe with sodas, homemade ice cream, candies, cookies, and maybe even some gift items if this works well enough.”

  “Who’s going to want ice cream in the winter?”

  “I’ve been thinking on that. If any of you have suggestions, throw them in.” Rebecca shifted and crossed her legs under her skirt so she could rest her elbows on her knees. “Maybe it will be a summer business.”

  “As if there isn’t enough going on in the summer anyway.”

  “Maydell, you are looking mighty serious.” Ellie tossed a piece of popcorn at her friend.

  “I’m still thinking.”

  “And that takes a lot of effort for some.” Sophie nudged Ellie with a giggle.

  “Rebecca, isn’t there someone in town that you’ve liked? Some male person, I mean.”

  “She always had a soft spot for Gerald Valders, even though he’s lots older.”

  “He’s always been my friend.” Rebecca smiled inside at having met him just before the party. No matter what mood she felt, he always brought out a feeling like a warm hug.

  “Like Toby was always Grace’s friend?”

  “This is different. She thought she was in love with Toby, but Gerald and I are just friends.”

  “Just friends make good marriages.” Maydell munched more popcorn. “That’s a well-known fact. And if you’re going to run a business too, you need someone you get along with.”

  “His mother …” Astrid shook her head.

  “You know, back when he first returned from the war and would get one of his malaria attacks, I’d take him something special I’d made, but his mother would never let me see him. ‘It isn’t proper,’ she’d say.”

  “If Mrs. Valders had her way …” Deborah let the thought hang.

  “She’d run the town and everyone around.” Sophie finished it.

  They all giggled.

  “Remember how we used to sit in a circle and brush each other’s hair?” Sophie made a sweeping motion with her hand. “Did you all bring hairbrushes?”

  As they chorused assent, she stood. “Then let’s do that. I’ll be right back.” She left the room as the others got up and dug in their overnight bags.

  Rebecca sat back down and watched her friends laughing and returning to the circle, all taking down their hair as they sat down. Sophie wore hers in a bun now, but still kept the fringe she’d cut so long ago, shocking the whole school with her new look. Astrid usually wore hers in a single braid that she sometimes coiled at the base of her skull. She and Deborah pulled back the sides and let the hair ripple or curl down their backs, as the case may be. Sometimes they used the new rats. She had no idea why they were called that, but one wrapped the hair around it and poufed the front.

  The daughters of Blessing, or at least most of them, had finally gathered together. All of them, but for Deborah and Maydell, had been born here and had grown up along with the town. Deborah and her sister, Manda, had arrived with Zebulon MacCallister, the man who’d saved them from dying in the family dugout along the Missouri so many years earlier.

  “What are you thinking about so solemnlike?” Astrid whispered over her shoulder to Rebecca, who was brushing her hair.

  “About all of us and how we’ve known each other since we were babies. And here we are all grown up… .” At Maydell’s choking laugh, Rebecca giggled and added, “Well, mostly or sort of grown up. And who knows where life is going to take us. Or what will happen.”

  “My mor would add, ‘It’s a good thing we are all in God’s hands.’” Astrid paused. “Your mor would be saying the same thing, and both of them would be praying for us like they did all along.”

  Rebecca smoothed the brush through Astrid’s golden hair and fought the tears that surfaced so fast she could hardly contain them. She sniffed as one brimmed over and trickled down her cheek. “Sometimes I miss her so bad, I—I don’t know what, but it’s like the pain is new all over again. I mean, it’s been nine years now, and you’d think it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

  “I have a feeling we’d miss our mothers for the rest of our lives. I think of those who came from Norway and never saw their families again. Like my mor. She hardly ever talks about her family left in Norway. They write sometimes but not real often. Do you suppose it is easier that way, to lose touch so you don’t think about them so much?”

  “I don’t know. I think of Penny. At first I wrote every week, then some weeks went by, and now I write more just because I want her advice on my shop idea. But she is busy and doesn’t answer right away. You’d think she lives on the other side of the country, not just across the state.”

  “Thorliff says the telephone is going to change that for us. We’ll be able to call up people anywhere when the lines crisscross the country.”

  “You think everyone will have telephones?”

  “You watch. When spring comes and they can set poles again, all those in Blessing who want to will have telephones.”

  “He says eventually we’ll all have electricity too.”

  “I’m going to put electric lights in the boardinghouse as soon as they get the lines in here.” Sophie turned from brushing Deborah’s hair. “There’s talk of a coal-operated power plant going in near Valley City. I’ve been reading all I can about such improvements. Maydell, you ought to apply for the job of switchboard operator. We’re going to need women to do that round the clock every day of the week.”

  “Why women and not men?”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “You think men want a fussy job like that?”

  “Gerald’s doing it, and he’s not fussy.” Rebecca bristled a little like a startled kitten.

  “But he has a calmer outlook than most men, and besides, with his malaria attacks, he needs a quiet job,” Sophie reminded her.

  “So where is the switchboard going to be once it needs to be bigger?” Rebecca asked.

  “The men are talking about putting up another building,
” Astrid answered. She ran her fingers through her hair, dividing it into thirds for a loose nighttime braid, but Rebecca pushed her hands away.

  “I’ll do that.” So each of them plaited the hair they’d been brushing and tied a ribbon at the end.

  “Can’t you see me at a switchboard?” Maydell pantomimed a cartoon Thorliff had run in the paper, with something to her ear and a speaker in front. “Number please?” Her tone was even more saucy than usual.

  “Number? Here we’ll just say a name.”

  “No we won’t. Each house will have a number.” Sophie could speak emphatically, because she already had a telephone installed at the boardinghouse, one of five in the area. Thorliff and Dr. Elizabeth had one, the flour mill another, Pastor Solberg put one in his house, and the Garrisons had a public phone at the grocery store. Mr. Jeffers at the general store would have no part of it. He’d said it cost too much. “We already have our house number, but they didn’t get the line strung to us before the winter hit.”

  “Do you really use the one at the boardinghouse?”

  “Not much, but sometimes people call for one of our guests, like the company for the drummers. That kind of thing.” Sophie lowered her voice. “Mrs. Valders isn’t really very friendly when the post office gets busy and she has to stop what she’s doing to connect a call, but so far it is working. Gerald does a fine job at night.”

  “Running water, no more outhouses, telephones, gas lights, electric lights—it’s hard to believe all the changes that are coming.”

  “Don’t forget automobiles.” Sophie got a dreamy look on her face. “Just think how much fun it will be to go driving from town to town.”

  “We’ll need roads first.” Ever practical Astrid added her bit. “But when I am a doctor and we need to go to a patient, a car will surely be easier than a horse and buggy.”

  “Or to bring patients to you.”

  “If you can get it started. The automobile, I mean. You can always start a horse.” Deborah locked her arms around her raised knees. “Manda and Baptiste make most of their money selling horses to the army forts. I can’t imagine life without horses.”

 

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