20
TEARS ROLLED AS INGEBORG listened to Haakan whimper in his sleep.
Should she wake him in case this was just a bad dream or let him suffer, if that’s what was going on. If it were a dream, most likely he would not remember it in the morning.
He’d spent much of the day sleeping, which wasn’t surprising. At least then he’d not been so restless. She could tell that fear rode him like a phantom. And being the man he was, admitting fear would be like cutting off his arm. Although at the moment, if it were the right arm, he might not be too upset.
She’d done as Dr. Elizabeth suggested and sneaked some laudanum into his coffee to help him relax. Lars had brought him a cane for when he grew stronger, so hopefully he would be putting it to good use very soon.
The cry came again, like a small child lost or so terribly afraid he could not scream. Lord, comfort this man who has been a comfort to so many. He’s always there for those in need, and now when he needs me, I don’t know how to reach him.
My Word. The answer came softly through the night, not quite a whisper but insistent, demanding to be listened to.
You mean turn on the lamp and read aloud? Doesn’t he need his sleep? She waited for the conversation to continue. She’d been in this place many times, needing the Holy Spirit and waiting for answers. Why was it different this time?
Because it is Haakan. Her mind answered that one instantly. Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. Thanks to your mercy and grace, O Lord. But, Father, we might be of one body, but one mind? She had to answer that one too. She was often amazed at hearing something she’d been thinking come out of Haakan’s mouth and oftentimes it worked the other way too.
She rolled onto her side and laid her arm across his chest. Instantly the small sounds in his throat ceased, and the tremors in his body faded away.
“Inge?” His voice came softly through the darkness.
“Ja, I am here. Who else would have her arms around you?”
“Don’t leave me.”
“Oh, dearest Haakan, I never would.” She laid her cheek on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this. God says so.”
He turned his head to kiss her hair. “Tusen takk.”
“Ja, indeed. I keep thanking God that He is healing you, restoring you. He says worship and praise pleases Him.”
He gave a small nod, and she felt him relax again, his breathing growing deeper and more even.
Thank you, Father. Thank you a million times. Like a feather bed of finest down, peace settled into the room and over their bed, wrapping them in healing grace.
She woke Friday morning to the sound of the stove lids rattling. Haakan lay beside her snoring gently. Slipping out of bed, she slid her feet in the moccasins Metiz had made for her those many years before and grabbed her robe from the bedpost. She shoved her arms into the sleeves and belted the robe as she crossed to the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind her.
“Andrew?”
“Ja. Who else would it be?”
“One never knows with all the friends that have been in and out the last twenty-four hours. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I figured if you were still sleeping, you might have been up half the night with Far and needed the rest. But I didn’t want you to freeze either, so I’m starting the stove.”
“I stoked it before we went to bed but only woke when Haakan was restless. Actually he slept well.”
“That’s good.” Andrew shaved small splinters from the hunk of sap wood onto the coals still alive under the gray ashes. When they smoked and burst into orange flames, he added larger pieces, then larger, and set the lids back in place. “That should do it. You could go back to bed, you know.”
“I’m not sleepy now. How are Ellie and the children?” They’d been fighting colds, a standard wintertime dilemma.
“She wanted to bring them to see Bestefar, but we decided she could help cheer him tomorrow if they are better.”
“She’s giving them the syrup we made?”
“Ja, but the best thing that could happen is an early spring arrival. Let everyone out of doors again.” He headed for the door. “I’ll fill the woodbox after we finish milking. Tell Far to wait until I get back before he tries to stand.”
“Ja. Right.” She chuckled inside. As if anyone could tell that hardheaded Norsky to do something or not. When he made up his mind, he made up his mind. “I’ll have breakfast ready.”
“Burnt oatmeal again?” His chuckles followed him out the door.
As the stove heated and chased the cold from the room, Ingeborg returned to the bedroom to dress and brush her hair in the dim light from the kerosene lamp in the kitchen. Haakan snored on. With her hair braided and wrapped like a coronet around her head and then pinned in place, she donned an apron and tied it in the back. Leaving the door open for the heat to get into the bedroom too, she set about turning the sourdough she’d started the night before into pancake batter. It would raise some as it sat waiting to be poured onto the griddle. She’d made a double batch so that the leftover dough from breakfast could become rolls for dinner by kneading in more flour. Haakan loved what they called sourdough biscuits. Sometimes she grated cheese and onions into the batter before kneading to make something different.
When the water was boiling in the coffeepot, she added the grounds and set it to simmer. Pouring water from the reservoir into another pan, she set the syrup bottle in it to heat. As she moved from task to task, she found herself humming.
“Mor?”
Ingeborg turned with a start. “Astrid, I didn’t know you were here.”
Astrid scurried into the kitchen, her clothes over her arm to dress by the warm stove, just like the children always did when they were little. “I didn’t want to wake you. Both you and Far were sleeping so soundly, so I sneaked upstairs and crawled into bed. Good thing I took a hot brick. It was cold up there.” All the while she talked she was dressing under her gathered flannel nightdress.
“How is Far this morning?”
“Sleeping soundly. He was restless for a while but calmed when I was praying for him.”
“Any time I have a restless patient, I want you to come and pray for them. For me too.” Astrid settled her wool serge skirt over her woolen padded petticoat and slid into her waist, buttoning the front and the cuffs on the full sleeves.
“You can pray, you know.”
“I know and I do, but I think God listens to you better.”
“Did you hear Andrew come in? He was starting the stove when I woke up.”
“No, and you were so quiet I almost slept through, like Far. I always sleep better when I am home. At the surgery I’m always listening for patients, I guess. Although last night you’d have thought I would listen for Far.”
“God knew we all needed sleep.”
“It ’s been over twenty-four hours, and he is no worse, am I right?”
“I think so. I mean, he hasn’t tried to sit or stand yet today.”
“I think this is good news. I read everything I could find about apoplexy, sometimes called brain hemorrhages, and most agree that the first twenty-four hours are the most dangerous. Some say the patient should get plenty of bed rest, others say get the patient up and moving as soon as possible. Sometimes they make me wonder about the medical community.”
“I made a tea for calming. He said it tasted terrible, so I added honey. Does Dr. Elizabeth have any whiskey?”
“You might try Mr. Jeffers. We are sure he is selling liquor from under the counter, but short of searching for it, no one is positive. Those who might be buying are pretty tight-lipped.”
“Maybe we should form a temperance league here in Blessing and go marching on the store.”
“Mor! You come up with the wildest ideas.”
“The women have done such in other places. Thorliff wrote an article about the women’s marches.”
“I’m sure he didn’t think his own mother would start one.” Astrid finished brushing her hair
and bundled it into a crocheted snood. “I’ll go check on Far.”
Ingeborg laid aside the knife she’d been using to slice the bacon. “We’ll both check on him. Put the cat out so she isn’t tempted to snatch the bacon.”
Astrid put the cat out on the back porch to go do her business while she and her mother went to stand beside the bed. Dawn lightened the window, but the sun had yet to clear the horizon. “His color is better?”
“Ja. He was pretty gray yesterday.”
“I’m not sleeping. You can talk to me.” Haakan’s voice rasped, but his words were more clear.
“Good. Andrew made me promise not to burn the oatmeal today, so we are having pancakes. How does that sound?”
“Thorliff was laughing about the burnt oatmeal,” Astrid said as she checked her father’s pulse. “You’ve listened to his heart?”
“Not yet today.”
“I’ll get my bag.” Astrid left the room, and Ingeborg sat down on the edge of the bed. “You were having bad dreams last night?”
“Ja. I was wandering in a terrible dense fog, and while I knew something was chasing me, I didn’t know what it was.”
“What happened?”
“I heard your voice, and it all went away. You were praying?”
“Off and on.” She stroked his cheek with gentle fingers. “You need a shave.”
“Perhaps I will grow a beard.” He glanced at the limp arm. “I’d probably cut my throat shaving with my left hand.”
“You use your left hand almost as well as your right. You always have.”
“Just don’t ask me to sign any papers.”
“All right, I won’t.” She turned as Astrid came back through the door, black leather bag in hand.
“Elizabeth said the apoplexy affected your right side?”
“Mostly my arm and hand. I can shuffle the right foot along. And my speech is better today.”
Astrid applied the stethoscope to his chest and listened. “Take a deep breath.” She nodded. “Good, and another.” She put her stethoscope back in the bag. “Your lungs sound fine, and your heart is ticking as steady as the clock in the kitchen.”
Haakan nodded. “That’s very good. So it was all in my head.”
“In a manner of speaking. What happens when you sit up?”
“I fall over.”
Astrid stared at him for a moment. “You mean sideways? To the right?”
“Ja, and it isn’t a pleasant thing. My head doesn’t ache like it did yesterday.”
“You didn’t mention that yesterday,” Ingeborg said.
“You had enough to worry about.”
Ingeborg rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Uff da, what do we do with you?”
“I told Elizabeth.”
Ah, that was why she gave him the laudanum. “And the tea helped?”
He nodded. “So let’s get me up and into that chair. I feel as weak as a newborn.”
“Andrew said to wait for him.”
“Andrew isn’t in charge here, no matter what he thinks and says.” Haakan braced himself with his left hand and tried to push himself upright against the headboard. “I am stronger. I can tell. I was thinking during the night that if I had a bar to grab on to, I could move myself around better.” He looked up at Astrid. “What do you think?”
She narrowed her eyes, thinking hard. “I wish I had more experience to offer here. I know we have to massage and move your arm and leg to keep the muscles from weakening. The problem is with the nerves. Wherever the apoplexy was, the blood clot is pressing against nerves. As that dissolves, we can retrain your body to work correctly.”
“How do you know all that?”
“You know how hard I’ve been studying. In one of the textbooks, someone had dissected the brains of apoplexy victims, and the information agreed with what others had learned. We know so little about how the brain works, but more is being discovered all the time. Back to your question, Far. We can try anything. Muscles can atrophy quickly when they aren’t being used, so if you are feeling up to it, we can start immediately.”
“I want to do the chair first.”
“You want to sit up on the edge of the bed first,” Ingeborg put in.
“That too.”
Astrid offered her right arm, bent at the elbow, for him to pull up with. Haakan grasped it with his left hand and pulled himself into a sitting position.
“See, that is where a bar would work, perhaps a pulley. Between Andrew, Lars, and me, we’ll figure it out.” His eyes narrowed again in concentration. He sucked in a deep breath and, using his left hand, pulled his right leg after the left until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor. “There, and I didn’t even fall over, at least not all the way.” He straightened his back and rolled his head from side to side. “Whoa. Maybe I won’t do that again for a while.”
“Dizzy?”
“Some.”
“Tell me when you are ready to stand.”
“Soon as I get my slippers on.”
Astrid knelt and slipped them on his feet, then patted his knee as she stood again. “Now.”
Astrid took his left side. “Mor, give him your arm.”
“I thought I told you to wait until I got here.” Andrew came through the door, still in his barn coat.
“Some things just can’t wait,” Haakan told his son. “Take off your coat now that you’re here. You can save your mother’s arm.”
Andrew shook his head, his disgust evident. He offered his arm like Elizabeth had shown them and nodded to Haakan. “On three. One, two, three.” He braced himself while Haakan tottered to stand upright, then moved to his father’s side.
“Lean on Andrew when you are going to move your right leg.”
“Left foot first.” Haakan took one step and then shuffled the other.
“Good.”
Ingeborg watched the three of them, wanting to close her eyes, praying for each movement. Was he stronger today? She watched the sweat bead on his temples. Or did they just want that to be the case so bad that they dreamed it? Lord, forgive me for doubting. You promised healing, and I know you are doing just that. I know it. Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief.
21
SURELY GERALD WILL BE at the switchboard. I just wish it weren’t at the post office.
The wind kissed her cheeks and lifted the horse’s mane.
Rebecca flicked the reins, and the horse broke into a trot. He snorted and tossed his head, the harness bells jingling in fast time too.
“Ja, this is a beautiful day to be out.” A crow answered her, and even his harsh cry sounded more like bells than a caw. “You can call all you want, but spring is coming. Can’t you feel it?” The bird spread black wings and flew off toward the river. The icicles from the house eaves had been dripping when she left home, a sure sign that the sun was warm enough to melt snow. But the wind told the story. A south wind that brought light and life, not storm and darkness. How could one go to sleep with the north wind ripping at the shingles and wake to the south wind singing an invitation to come out and be blessed?
The smokestacks of the flour mill sent plumes of steam billowing white into the azure sky. The chimney of the boardinghouse puffed out gray smoke, telling her that Mrs. Sam was busy cooking breakfast or maybe dinner. Rebecca could almost smell the bread baking. At least when she left home, she had ham and beans baking in the oven, and Gus had promised to keep the fire burning, even if he had to run in from the barn to do so. If he’d not agreed, she was sure she would have lambasted him a good one. She huffed a sigh. The nerve of those two who called themselves her brothers and claimed they were looking out for her own good. Still, she might be able to get some penance out of him for a while.
The last thing she wanted to do was go to the store and inform Mr. Jeffers of her refusal of his offer to court her. But she knew there was no way she could trust her brothers to make her position and desires absolutely, unequivocally clear.
“Think about vis
iting Gerald and dropping by the boardinghouse to see Sophie,” she told herself. “Surely Astrid is at work with Dr. Elizabeth. The last thing you have to do is go to the store.” She pushed out a sigh. Maybe Dr. Elizabeth would have some advice for her. Like how to maim her brothers, but not permanently. Just enough to get a tiny bit even.
Was Maydell still at Ellie and Andrew’s house or did she go back to Grafton? So many questions. Who to talk to first and catch up on the gossip, or rather the goings-on, around Blessing. It felt like she’d been gone for six months rather than one.
The sleigh runners screeched as they crossed the railroad tracks, metal on metal, with the tracks poking up through the ice and snow. The heat of the passing trains kept the snow level down on the track bed. She debated whether to go to the boardinghouse first in search of Sophie, who would know everything, or give in to her desire to talk with Gerald. What had happened to her? Here she’d had such a good time with Kurt, and now all she could think of was Gerald. Had absence made the heart grow fonder, as the old adage said? Maybe it was just the need to talk to a real friend.
The horse slowed down at the post office, so she took it as a sign that picking up the mail and mailing what she’d brought in was the first order of business. She got out and flipped the tie rope around the hitching rail.
“Welcome home, Rebecca.” Mrs. Solberg greeted her with a smile as she entered the post office. “We’ve missed you.”
“Thank you. It’s good to be home.”
“So how is our Penny doing in Bismarck?”
“She’s doing her best, but she misses all of Blessing terribly. Said she was coming to visit in the summer.”
“Good.” Mary Martha reached out and patted her hand. “Please pray a lot before you make any final decisions.” With that she strode out the door, leaving Rebecca to wonder what in the world she was referring to. She thought a moment before going up to the counter to slide her mail into the slot that said Outgoing Mail. As if they’d put anything else in it.
Rebecca's Reward Page 17