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Rebecca's Reward

Page 25

by Lauraine Snelling


  She stared out the window of the bedroom at the Bjorklunds’, even though there was nothing to see in the darkness. She needed to go get her personal things from the house. This would be her last night here. Tomorrow she would move into the store, and she would have her own place for the first time in her life. Just the thought of it made her stomach drop down around her knees. At least the place was clean now. She’d sewn a new curtain for the doorway on Ingeborg’s machine one night after supper. Had she had her way, it would have been bright red or orange, but she had to use material from the store, so it was brown calico with small yellow flowers on it. Anything was better than the old rags.

  At least if and when Penny decided to buy back the store, it was now looking more like when she’d had it, except for so much empty space. Hopefully the first shipment of goods would be on tomorrow’s train. Opening all the boxes would be like having Christmas in the spring. She and Thorliff were talking about a celebration for a grand reopening. She knew that all she had to do was mention it to Sophie, and she’d make sure it happened.

  She knew she needed to pray about all these decisions, but her requests and petitions seemed to hit the ceiling and bounce back. If only her mother were here. God in heaven, I need my mother. I’ve needed my mother for years. It’s just not fair. But she knew Ingeborg and Mrs. Solberg were doing all they could to fill in.

  What if she failed at this job, couldn’t handle it? Returning to the farm with her tail between her legs was not appealing, much as she missed her house, with Dorothy and the children so nearby. Right now she had no trouble not missing her brothers.

  A tap at the door made her wipe her eyes with the ends of her fingers and sniff before answering. “Come in.”

  Astrid peeked her head in. “Just me. Something told me you needed an ear or a shoulder or just another person.”

  “Ma would say God prompted you.”

  “Mine would say that too. You want me to go get her?”

  “No. I feel guilty for bothering her when she is so worried about—”

  “Mor would say she never worries. She just reminds God more frequently about whatever is on her mind.” Astrid made herself comfortable on the bed. “You want me to go with you to pick up your things at home?”

  “Would you?”

  “Of course. We can get one of the men with a sledge if we need it. Lars or Andrew would help, I know.”

  “Well, I already have a table and chairs, a bed and chest of drawers. What more do I absolutely need?”

  “What about bringing in your mother’s rocker?”

  Rebecca started to say something and then changed her mind, her eyes narrowing. “That’s a good idea. I guess I’m hesitant to take things from home.”

  “Why?” Astrid tucked her nightdress around her ankles and pulled her shawl closer. “I’m sure Gus wouldn’t mind.”

  Studying her fingernails, Rebecca didn’t look up.

  “Oh.” Astrid set her chin on her bent knees. “I take it we are going out to the house when the men are sure to be at the barn.”

  Rebecca nodded. “They haven’t even bothered to come to town to see how or what I am doing.”

  “You can be sure they know. The Blessing morning-glory vine has surely reached them. They’re probably too ashamed to face you.”

  Rebecca let that thought roll for a moment then decided she couldn’t follow it. “Morning-glory vine?”

  “Sounds better than grapevine or gossip line. Works the same. I just thought it sounded prettier. Soon we won’t need it if everyone gets a telephone installed. Speaking of telephones, have you seen Gerald?”

  “Only for a few minutes yesterday. He said he’d come help unpack the supplies.”

  “Uff da. That’s going to be a big job. Everything has to be counted, marked, and put on the shelves. I’ve done it with Penny before but never of this magnitude.”

  “Me too. Who’d have thought she was training us for running the store?”

  “I think we need a girls’ night like we had in January. What if we held it at the store?” Astrid reached for the brush and motioned to the bed. When Rebecca sat, she picked up the stroking. “You have such beautiful hair. It’s got just enough red to give it spice.”

  “That’s what I need, spicy hair.” Rebecca tipped her head forward and let her eyes drift closed. After a stretch of silence, she cleared her throat. “That’s a good idea. Thanks for thinking of it.” A silence hummed while the brushing continued. “Umm.” Another pause, this one longer. She clenched and unclenched her hand a couple of times, then said, “You have to be honest with me.”

  “Am I ever anything but? You want an opinion, just ask me, and you get it.” Astrid kept on brushing.

  Rebecca’s faint chuckle would have been easy to miss. She cleared her throat again. “Do you think I did something to make Mr. Jeffers attack me like that?” She almost buried her whisper in the lace of her nightdress.

  Astrid thumped the brush down on the bed and grabbed her friend by the shoulders. “You turn around here, Rebecca Baard, and listen up real good. Come on. Look in my eyes.” When Rebecca was halfway around, Astrid continued. “Don’t you let anything that anyone says make you feel guilty. That man was an animal of the worst sort. In fact, calling him an animal is too good for him. If anyone is to blame besides Jeffers, it’s your brothers, because they set it up, even though I know they never meant for him to interpret it that way, but still …”

  “That’s the other part. How could they not see? Do they care that little about me? I am still so mad at them I want to scream.”

  “Me too. Take the buggy whip after them.”

  “But that isn’t very Christian, so then I feel guilty about that too.”

  “You could talk to Pastor Solberg or to my mother.”

  “I know. But I hate to bother them. They’ve been helping in so many ways already.”

  “If they know you need them, they’ll be hurt if you don’t ask.”

  “Or they’ll show up. Like you did.”

  “True enough.” Astrid took up the hairbrush again.

  “The only time anyone brushes my hair since my mother died, it has been one of you girls.” Her voice took on a dreamy quality.

  “Grace and Sophie and I used to do it for each other, but now Mor and I switch off sometimes too. Especially if we wash our hair in the rain. Everything smells so good after a rain shower, even hair.”

  “The way the snow is melting, we might have rain soon too. I saw a clump of violets yesterday when I was washing windows. The little round leaves were such a bright green, and bits of purple showed on the tip of the bud. They weren’t open yet. I can’t believe how fast they come up once the snows melts. Right off the back porch. Do you suppose Penny planted them there?” Her head drooped further forward. “I’m going to fall asleep sitting up. You want me to do yours now?”

  “No. You rest. Get under the covers, and I’ll blow out the lamp. I hope you sleep really wonderfully.” She sectioned Rebecca’s hair in three and braided a loose rope to hang down her back. “There, now.”

  “Thank you.” Rebecca reached for the top of the quilt and the sheet and pulled them back, sliding under them without a protest. She turned on her side with a slight smile. “Night.”

  The next morning Thorliff met Rebecca and Astrid at the store at eight. “Do you have any heavy things you want brought in from home?” he asked.

  “I think my mother’s rocking chair is all for now. I’ve got a list of things I need to get—bedding, clothes, things for the kitchen. That man got by with the barest of necessities. Thank you for taking the bed apart to make sure we got rid of all the bugs.” She shuddered. “My ma would have had a fit at the filth.”

  “Mine too. Probably a good thing she wasn’t able to help us.”

  “Penny took all of her household things with her, so the living quarters were pretty empty when she left. Interesting that that man had nothing with him when he came.” Astrid spread a red-and-white check
ed tablecloth that she’d brought from home onto the kitchen table. “There, that looks better.” She glanced up at her brother. “Did anyone ever mention things like that?”

  Thorliff stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “None of the men, but I heard someone say that he’d not been very friendly when we tried to welcome him into the community. But you know, you can’t expect everyone to be like people we’ve known all of our lives.”

  “I guess.” Astrid turned to Rebecca. “I have a feeling some of the women are bringing things in, so be prepared.”

  “I should box up some of the canning from home too. After all, I did it.”

  “Well, just in case, take the sledge rather than the sleigh. If you don’t need me, I have plenty to do in the office if I’m going to get a newspaper out next week.”

  The two climbed up on the plank seat, and Astrid flicked the reins. In some spots they hauled through mud and in some through snow. They were in the between times, when it was neither spring nor winter, needing neither sleigh nor wagon. But they’d be moving the wagon boxes from sledge to wheels any day.

  Everyone would stay off the roads as much as possible, as the land thawed out three feet down and turned to mud that clung so heavy the horses couldn’t pull the wagons.

  When they entered the house, the smell and feel of it announced no one was home. While the stove was warm, Gus had not kept a fire going in it for the day.

  “He must be eating over at Dorothy’s.” Rebecca headed up the stairs to her bedroom. “Take whatever you think I need out of the cupboards and pantry. I’ll get my things.”

  An hour later they were loaded and still no sign of the men. Rebecca stared across the field to the other house, where the chimney smoke said people were at home. To go over there or not. Surely they had seen the team and sledge. Why hadn’t they come and offered to help? Why should I be the one to make the first move? This whole mess is their fault, after all. She shut the door and joined Astrid on the wagon seat. The other thing she’d brought of her mother’s was the sewing machine, along with a box of notions and cloth goods. Gus would not be using that.

  When or if Penny came back, where would she live? There wasn’t room in the back of Miss Christopherson’s empty dress shop for someone to live if she did end up putting the soda shop there. That was why Miss Christopherson roomed at the boardinghouse the years she’d had her dress shop. But maybe after living in Bismarck, Penny and Hjelmer would want a new house.

  She could hear her mother’s voice as if she sat right behind them, tapping her on the shoulder. Let the day’s own troubles be sufficient for the day. She didn’t have to decide what to do about her future living situation today.

  “Do you want to go over to Knute’s and tell them what is happening?”

  “About like I want to stick my hand in a pot of boiling water.”

  Astrid giggled and headed the horses toward town.

  Rebecca kept herself from looking over her shoulder only with the greatest difficulty. One day she would have to confront this, but not today. Perhaps the problem would just go away if she ignored it. Not that that had ever worked before.

  When they got back to the store, the women had been there before them. A kettle bubbled on the back of the stove with the enticing aroma of beef soup. A loaf of fresh bread sat under a cloth on the table with its best friend, a mold of butter. White curtains hung in the windows, a braided rag rug lay in front of the stove, jars of canned beans, beets, pickles, apple sauce, and relish lined a shelf. Two large tins held flour and sugar. A new braided rug lay in front of the store door, and the bell had recently been polished.

  “Who do I thank?” Rebecca asked, rolling her lips together to keep from sniffling.

  “All of them,” Astrid told her. “That has to be Mrs. Valders’ rug, by the way; she has a special way of braiding them. I’m guessing that’s her apology. The bread, butter, and cheese are from Mor. Tante Kaaren sent the curtains; they used to hang in her kitchen. If you are lucky, that is Mrs. Solberg’s relish. She makes the best relish.”

  Together they unloaded the sledge, setting the chair and the sewing machine in the kitchen, which doubled as a sitting room. After lugging the bedding, including a feather bed, up the stairs to one of the three bedroom, they made up the bed and hung her clothes on the pegs along the wall.

  “The way Mrs. Geddick scrubbed this room, no louse, flea, or bedbug would dare to remain. From the smell of it, she doused everything in kerosene.”

  “Just don’t go lighting any matches in here for a while.” Rebecca laid her hairbrush on top of the chest of drawers. “There. All done for now.”

  “I need to get on over to see if Elizabeth needs me. I’ll leave the sledge there for Thorliff to take back.” They both paused at the sound of the train whistle. “And then again, maybe I won’t. Let’s just go to the station instead and let the men load your supplies on it. Easier than wheeling all those boxes and crates with a dolly, muddy as the street is today.”

  Rebecca gave her new room another glance. One would never guess that Jeffers had lived here. The walls were whitewashed, there were more white curtains at the window and a braided rug on the floor, and now her own nine-patch quilt that her mother had made for her covered her bed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Just think. You have all your spring cleaning done before the middle of March.”

  Rebecca thought of the farmhouse. It would not get spring cleaned this year. And she wouldn’t be there to help Dorothy either. Heaving a sigh, she followed Astrid out the door.

  “Now to attack the next step. We have well earned tomorrow off. Good thing God declared Sunday a day of rest.” The two tromped back down the stairs, through the kitchen and, snagging their coats, back outside.

  A stack of boxes and crates awaited them when they arrived at the station. The conductor was already calling, “All aboard,” and the train’s wheels screeched as the train inched forward, then picked up speed to head north by northwest.

  The two stared at the stacks of boxes and crates and then at each other.

  “Don’t worry,” the stationmaster called. “Help is on the way.”

  Toby and Gerald Valders, Garth Wiste, Mr. Sam, Thorliff, and one of the Geddick brothers strolled onto the planked platform and began laughing and teasing Rebecca for ordering half of Minneapolis. They quickly loaded the sledge, then each carried smaller boxes and followed the team down the street. Some of the crates had to be left on the front porch, since there was no more room in the store.

  Dark had fallen by the time they’d cleared the mess out of the store and left several crates unopened along the back wall. The shelves now had merchandise to sell: men’s pants, boots, shirts, overalls, and hats, and the yardage department lit up the whole aisle. Mr. Sam whistled as he counted and organized the hardware section, while his son, Lemuel, hung the rakes, shovels, and hoes people might need to start their gardens. A display rack held packages of seeds, and rolls of twine, rope, and chains hung on one wall, ready to be pulled off and measured.

  A roll of brown paper now filled the rack on the counter, with a spool of string to wrap with. The cash register had been cleaned and polished, and a feather duster hung on a hook behind the counter to be used to control the dust.

  “I think you should come stay with us one more night,” Astrid said as she shoved her arms into her coat sleeves. “Then you can come here after church and dinner.”

  “Thank you, but I want to stay here. I can get some more done after supper tonight.”

  “It’s up to you, but if my mother scolds me, you have to defend me.”

  “You are welcome to spend the night if you want.”

  “Thanks, but I want to be there in the morning to help Far get ready for church. He says he’s going even if we have to carry him.” Astrid headed out the door to the horse patiently waiting with the sleigh.

  Rebecca had just closed the door when she heard the bell over the store’s front door tinkle, announci
ng a customer. “Surely everyone knows I’m not open yet,” Rebecca mumbled as she pushed through the drape on the door. Her heart leaped at the sight of the man standing looking around. What was the matter with her? She’d never reacted like that before. “Hello.”

  “You have done miracles here,” Gerald said. “I thought maybe you needed another pair of hands now that I am finished with my shift.” He held out both hands.

  “Astrid just left for home. She wanted me to go along. We’ll finish the rest on Monday, even though the store will be open.” She could tell she was talking too fast, but she couldn’t seem to stop or even slow down. “Take off your coat, and I’ll show you around.”

  “What a difference.”

  “Many hands make light work, to quote an old saying. And so many people have helped get this store back in shape, I can’t begin to thank them all. You mother even sent me a rug. Please tell her how much I appreciate it. Astrid and I are talking about a grand reopening.” She glanced over her shoulder to see him staring at her.

  “Do you know that the lamplight caught in your hair makes it look like sparks of fire?”

  Rebecca nearly fell over her feet, they nailed themselves to the floor so fast. “Ah …” What do I say? This is Gerald, and he never says things like that. But then, who in Blessing has ever said such things to me? The party. Talk about the opening. “We … um … we thought in a week or so. Maybe it will be dry enough to have it outside.”

  “You still have those to unpack?” He inclined his head toward some boxes.

  “Yes. They can wait.” Why did she feel like she was talking with a stranger? This was her friend Gerald. They usually talked comfortably to each other. After all, they’d even discussed religion and politics. Both of them truly admired President Teddy Roosevelt, and Gerald had even heard him speak one time.

 

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