Rebecca's Reward

by Lauraine Snelling

  “I am not surprised. I’ve had that happen too, as you know. Thank you. Come and see him. Maybe you can keep him in bed until Elizabeth gets here.” She led the way and motioned him ahead of her through the door. “You have company, Haakan.”

  “Good morning, my friend. You are looking better than I was afraid of.” Solberg shook Haakan’s extended left hand like that was the most normal thing in the world. He explained God calling him, and Haakan nodded.

  “I-I’m glad … you came.” While his speech was still slow, his words were more clear.

  “Now, how can I help you?”

  “I was about to bring coffee in. Would you like a cup also?”

  “Of course.” He smiled at Ingeborg and then turned his attention back to Haakan. “It affected your right side. Your arm, I see. How about the leg and foot?”

  “I can move them.”

  “Good, good. Can you drink, chew?”

  Haakan shrugged.

  “Looks like you’ll be using your left hand more for a while.”

  Ingeborg turned at the sound of the door opening. “Andrew?”

  “Be right there,” he called.

  “I asked Haakan to wait to get up until there were men around to help. Just in case.”

  “Elizabeth will be here shortly,” Andrew said as he came into the room and studied his father. “Thorliff was hitching the sleigh as I left.” He greeted the pastor before returning his attention to his father. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

  “A bit of a … headache. Thirsty.”

  “I’ll get the coffee.”

  “None for me right now. I’ll go help Lars finish the milking. Unless you need me here?”

  “You go,” Haakan said before Ingeborg could answer. He nodded to the pastor. “I need to …”

  “You might shut the door on your way to get the coffee,” Pastor Solberg said.

  Ingeborg started to say something but quickly realized what the need was. So her husband was having a fit of modesty. That was far better than what could have been. Incontinency often happened with apoplexy. His pride would have a hard time with that. She figured that was one more hurdle to cross and was grateful they needn’t. She did as asked and pulled the heating coffeepot off the front lid so she could add more wood. Perhaps oatmeal would be best for breakfast, something that didn’t need chewing. Maybe she should run some of the rolled oats through the meat grinder to make the cereal even finer, as she used to do for the babies.

  Praise that he wasn’t worse dueled with worry about how Haakan would deal with this. I know, Lord: Cast all my cares on you. I keep doing that, but they keep coming back. Would you please hang on to them a little harder? After bringing the grinder in from the pantry, she set it on the table and unscrewed the crank until it would fit, then slid the grinder in place and cranked it down firmly. Fetching the rolled oats from the tin she kept them stored in, she dug out a cupful and poured it into the hopper while turning the hand crank. As soon as she had two cups she poured it into the kettle, where she had four cups of water and a dash of salt already simmering. Once the oats were boiling, she moved the covered kettle to the back of the stove, where it wouldn’t burn, and went back to the grinding. Might as well do enough for several days now that she had the grinder out. Of course she could have used the coffee grinder, but it would be slower, and the oatmeal would have tasted of coffee.

  The jingle of harness and bells announced both Elizabeth and Thorliff. He was quickly ushering her through the door as they both kicked the snow off their boots.

  “How is he?” Elizabeth asked instead of a greeting.

  “Better than at three this morning.” Ingeborg swallowed. “It could have been so much worse. Thank God it isn’t.”

  “Pastor Solberg is here?” Thorliff hung up both his and his wife’s coat.

  “Ja, he is helping Haakan with personal things.”

  “Well, his pride is a good thing.” Elizabeth picked up her medical bag. “I’ll knock first.”

  Ingeborg brought out a tray from the bottom of the cupboard in the pantry and set out coffee cups. While most of them drank theirs black, she added her cream and sugar glass pieces that Haakan had bought her and that had graced her table ever since. The cookie jar was empty, so she filled the cups and started to lift the tray.

  Thorliff beat her to it. “I’ll carry it. You take care of the door.”

  Tapping on her own bedroom door seemed as strange as serving Haakan coffee in bed. She led the way to the chest of drawers and pushed things to the side so Thorliff could set the tray there.

  “I’ll get chairs,” Thorliff whispered in her ear.

  While handing Pastor Solberg a cup of coffee, she watched Elizabeth moving Haakan’s arms, hands, legs, and feet, instructing him to push against her hand each time. The left side appeared unaffected. That was the good news. How badly damaged the right was would still need to be determined.

  When she’d finished, she stood studying him. “We’ll know more when you sit up on the edge of the bed.”

  “We did that a few minutes ago,” Pastor Solberg said, looking from Ingeborg to Elizabeth. “He listed to the right, but though shaky seemed pretty stable.”

  “He wasn’t able to push himself up against the headboard during the night, but once we got him propped up, he did fine.”

  “But tired,” Haakan added.

  “Did you feel sick to your stomach?” Elizabeth took up her questioning mode again.

  He half shrugged.

  “Headache?”

  “Some … but not severe.” His Norwegian accent was more pronounced than Ingeborg had heard in a long time.

  “Do you have pain anywhere?”

  Another shrug.

  She looked to Ingeborg. “Does that mean none or a little or he doesn’t know?”

  Ingeborg hoped that her puzzlement didn’t show on her face. “I’m not sure. Haakan is never sick.”

  “Can you drink from a cup?”

  “He drank some water earlier. I spoon-fed him coffee, and he could swallow just fine.”

  “How about trying yourself?”

  He nodded and glanced to his wife, holding thumb and forefinger close together to indicate a small amount.

  She handed Thorliff his, glanced at Elizabeth, who shook her head, and took a cup back to the kitchen to pour some out. I should have thought of that. Of course he’d not want a full cup to start with. She poured it back into the coffeepot and returned to the bedroom to add cream and a bit of sugar. At the look of disgust he gave her, she raised her eyebrows.

  “Think of it as medicine.” She sat on the left side of the bed and held out the cup. He raised his left arm, and while his hand shook, he was able to take hold of the cup and bring it to his mouth to sip. However, the effort sent him slowly tipping to the right.

  “Your body will compensate as you do more things. Just be aware.” Elizabeth propped a pillow next to his side and settled his right arm on his leg. “Finish your coffee, and then we’ll see about getting you upright.”

  Elizabeth looked to Ingeborg. “Remember how we worked with Mr. Hedstrom from south of here? Massaging his legs and moving them for him until he could regain his strength?”

  Ingeborg nodded.

  “We’ll do the same again. Thorliff can help you.”

  “As will I.” Pastor Solberg crossed one leg over the other and rested his coffee cup on his knee. “You have a great number of friends who will be glad to do whatever you need.”

  “Good thing it is winter.” Haakan lifted his cup again and drained it this time, then held it out. “Make it … black this time, please?” “Let’s get you standing upright first.” Elizabeth beckoned to Thorliff. “You be his other side.”

  Thorliff slid his arm behind his father from the right side to brace him. “You can push against me.”

  Haakan gritted his teeth, and the effort furrowed two vertical lines in his forehead. He wiggled his body closer to the edge of the bed and heaved a sigh. But when he
tried to stand using his left hand and arm as a brace, he half rose and slumped back down. When Ingeborg moved forward, extending an arm for him to grab, he waved her away. And tried again.

  Ingeborg closed her eyes against the agony of watching his struggle. She could help him. Thorliff was trying to help him without doing the lifting for him. Was it better to let him struggle or to assist? Lord, help us know what to do. Please. He needs strength, and I need strength, but of a different kind.

  She could feel Pastor Solberg praying beside her.

  Haakan sucked in a deep breath and fought to rise again. His upper body strained against the weakness of his right side, but he couldn’t stand all the way up.

  “All right now, as your doctor I am taking over. I wanted you to see what it will take and to give me an idea of where we are.” She paused and gentled her voice. “Please, now, let us all help you. It is not a sign of weakness or a crime to accept help. You would do the same for any of us if the need arose.”

  In spite of the chill of the room, sweat trickled down the side of Haakan’s face. “I never thought … I’d be unable to stand up… . It has always been so easy.”

  “I know. But soon you will stand up on your own again. You will walk and use that right arm, but it will take some time.”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know. But you have your own private doctor here who will do all that I tell her and then some. We don’t know nearly enough about the brain, but we do know that nerves and muscles that are damaged heal themselves.”

  “God made our bodies that way, to heal and grow strong again,” Pastor Solberg said. “Think about when you cut yourself, how that heals from the inside out and all without our assistance.” He moved to sit down by Haakan. “This is a bump in the road, not the end of the journey.”

  “I-I can’t be—” Haakan paused and slowly shook his head—“a cripple.” He stared at his right hand. “Please, God, please.”

  “We’re going to do all that we can to make sure that doesn’t happen. Now, everyone, here are some things I learned.” Elizabeth took Haakan’s good hand. “Hang on to someone’s arm here, above the wrist. You might also find that a cane helps. Something to assist your balance. We’re going to help you stand now. Thorliff, help lift him but don’t rush him. Pastor Solberg, stand in front of him, just in case. Ready on three. One, two, three.” Between the three of them they had Haakan upright and, though shaky, standing on his feet.

  Ingeborg felt like applauding. The relief on her husband’s face brought tears and a clogged throat. “Thank you, Father God, thank you.”

  “Are you dizzy?”

  “Some.”

  “Headache?”

  “Some.”

  “Can you feel the floor with your right foot?”

  “Ja. It is cold.”

  “Good. Can you move your right foot?”

  Haakan nodded as slowly his right foot moved forward a couple of inches.

  “That’s wonderful.”

  He gave Elizabeth a look that screamed Are you crazy?

  “I know.” She shook her head at him. “You and I are looking for different things. If you couldn’t feel the floor or move your foot, you would have a far harder battle to fight. This is good news. Can you move your fingers on your right hand?”

  The others watched his hand. Ingeborg watched his face as he focused on moving. Slowly one finger shook and moved an inch or so. The sigh of relief was in unison.

  “All right now, let’s see if you can move your left foot. That means put your weight on your right. Thorliff, be ready to hold him.”

  “Here, let me take your place.” Pastor Solberg moved Elizabeth away from Haakan’s side and slid his arm around Haakan’s waist. “Now let’s see what we can do.”

  Thorliff braced his father with his left arm and held his right arm firmly. Haakan leaned against his son and shuffled the left foot forward. He leaned the other way and moved the right—not far but moved it. Sweat made him blink.

  “Hot in here.” He raised his head and sniffed. “Is something burning?”

  Ingeborg sniffed and groaned. “The oatmeal. I let the oatmeal burn. Uff da.” She hurried from the room to the sound of chuckles that turned to laughter.

  “God be praised. We have something to laugh about. But now what will we have for breakfast?”

  “Burned oatmeal isn’t so bad,” Pastor Solberg called. “Praise God, we have cream to put on it.”

  18

  Bismarck, North Dakota

  SAYING GOOD-BYE TO KURT was almost as difficult as saying good-bye to Penny. Was she throwing away the possibility of a real dream for an imaginary one? But to leave Blessing for good—that could never happen. Although, had it happened to Grace? Could real love do that?

  Rebecca stared out the train window, hoping no one could see the tears that insisted on running down her cheeks, no matter how many times she mopped them away.

  Penny said they’d try to come for a visit in the summer, but June or July seemed as far away as eternity. And while Kurt had promised to write, as had she, somehow their good-byes had had a feeling of finality to them. If she had stayed in Bismarck, could their friendship have developed into something deeper? She was almost certain he had wanted to kiss her, but with Penny, Hjelmer, and the children seeing her off, he’d just squeezed her hand and said, “Think of me.”

  She was sure Maydell would dub that little phrase most romantic.

  Thinking of home dried the tears, even though she could most likely wring water out of her handkerchief. Trying to figure out all that might have gone on at home in her absence was about as useless as hanging out the wash in a thunderstorm. Would Gus have bought more than one cow? His diatribe about her wasting money on a soda shop when there weren’t enough cows to supply milk for the cheese house, let alone cream for making ice cream, made her wonder if her dream was indeed frivolous.

  Penny didn’t think so. In fact, the night before, when helping Rebecca pack, she’d offered to be a silent partner with a loan that wouldn’t need repaying for several years. By silent, she said she was available for advice but would not try to tell Rebecca what to do, quite unlike other members of the Baard family.

  “Gus thinks my dream is selfish,” Rebecca had said.

  “Nonsense,” Penny replied. “What is all the egg and butter money the women keep aside in sugar bowls and tins but a type of small business? And one that often helps the family financially. No one thinks of it as such, but it is. Everyone has a right to have a business if that is what they want.” Penny laughed. “I’d like to see Gus tell Ingeborg her cheese is just a dream.”

  Rebecca had gasped at the thought and then joined Penny laughing.

  Rebecca now took out the writing case that Penny had given her as a hint she wanted more letters and used the pencil to add to her lists of needed supplies. Her time with Thomas at Benson’s Soda Emporium had opened her eyes to the real complexity of running such a business. And the amount of needed supplies.

  But what if I fail? What a terrible waste of everything if I do. The argument buzzed again like angry bees barred from their hive. She sighed as she watched the countryside stream past.

  Yesterday, as they sat over afternoon tea before the children came home from school, Penny had reminded her to pray about the whole matter, to lay it before the Lord, as Agnes used to say and Ingeborg still did. Saying it was one thing and doing so another.

  “You can’t let other people make up your mind for you,” Penny had said.

  “But your store was necessary to the people of Blessing. Where else could they buy tools and boots and spices and sewing machines and—”

  “I took a real chance on the sewing machines, like you will with the soda shop. No one really needed a machine. They’d been sewing by hand since they were not much older than toddlers. But I believed that women were as entitled to machines to help them do better as the men were. You didn’t see those men still plowing with a hand plow pulled behind a mule
or an ox. As new equipment was developed, they bought it. That’s why Hjelmer went into the machinery business.”

  “I think he wishes he’d stayed with that.”

  Penny’s eyes took on a faraway look, as though she were watching another scene. She nodded slowly and sighed. “I wish he had. That’s for sure. All those years when I wanted him home more, he was happy in the legislature. I should have just kept my big mouth shut.”

  “You didn’t force him to take this job.”

  “No. Nobody can force Hjelmer to do anything. And I wouldn’t want to do that, but he knew how I felt, and he was trying to do what was best for all of us.” Penny heaved another sigh. “But here we are in Bismarck, and we have to make the best of it. So if I can help you with your business, maybe that will help me feel better too. I’ll be glad when you can get a telephone and we can talk every now and then.”

  “If Gus has his way, the telephone will never come to the farm.”

  “I have an idea. You can put a telephone in your store, and people can use it and pay you for the service. Soon the telephone will become more and more a part of everyone’s life, whether Gus thinks ahead or not.” She grinned at Rebecca. “How’d he get to be such an old grouch anyway?”

  “He doesn’t want to spend any money, that’s how. He said I should put my hundred dollars that I got from Mr. Gould for graduation into the farm fund instead of into a harebrained idea like mine.”

  The conductor walking through the car brought her back to the present. Cigar smoke filled the air because it was too cold outside to open any windows. Male laughter exploded from the group playing cards at the rear of the car. The woman in the seat behind her made a remark about the lack of manners of those indulging in such an obnoxious and smelly habit.

  Gus had brought a cigar home to smoke one time. Seemed Mr. Jeffers had encouraged him to try it. She’d had to air out the house afterward and told him that if he wanted to smoke that stinky thing, he’d have to do so out in the middle of the wheat fields, where the wind could blow all the smoke away.