Rebecca's Reward

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Have you talked with your brothers yet?”

  Leave it to Sophie to go right for the jugular. “No, they weren’t at the house when I went to get my things.”

  “They weren’t in church either. None of them.”

  Wonderful. Now I suppose it will be my fault they are staying away from church too. This is getting ridiculous. “Maybe I should write them a letter.”

  “I’ll help you if you want.”

  “Sophie.” Rebecca shook her head. “I was teasing.”

  “Well, I’m not. They need to realize what they did.”

  “How about if we have a girls’ night again on Saturday, here at the store this time?”

  “You don’t have enough beds.”

  “No, but some may not be able to spend the entire night anyway. Everyone can bring an extra quilt for a pallet.”

  “Let’s plan on it, then. I’ll let them all know.” She turned back. “You want me to invite Dorothy too?”

  Rebecca felt her back stiffen and nodded. “Yes. I wish … but Dr. Elizabeth told her to take it easy. Do you think the baby came, and that’s why they weren’t at church?”

  “No. Knute would have sent a message with someone.” Sophie stopped at the draped door. “Did you know Gerald is down sick again?”

  “He was looking a little tired last night.”

  “He was here?” An arch smile said the cat had caught a mouse. “He came to help, since he’d not been able to during the day.”

  “I see.”

  “He left early.” Because he wasn’t feeling well. Do I dare go over there and inquire? Only if I want my head bitten off. Or my reputation besmirched. Why does Hildegunn dislike me, no, hate me, so much? Should I ask Sophie? The words were out of her mouth before the thought left her mind. “Why does she hate me so much?”

  “Who?” Sophie blinked and immediately knew who Rebecca meant. “Mrs. Valders.”

  They nodded together.

  “I don’t think she hates you any more than any of the other young women who might be friends with her sons. None of us are good enough for them. Although, I believe that no woman walking this earth would be good enough in her eyes.” Sophie thought a moment. “Probably even angels wouldn’t be good enough.”

  Rebecca giggled. “Thanks for letting the girls know about our party. Shall we say seven o’clock? By the way, Gerald said he would come help me tomorrow when the store opens for business again.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “I guess.” She watched as Sophie went out the door and shut it behind her. “I need a cat or a dog here, something alive besides me—and the mice. It better be a cat. There were kittens out at the barn. I’ll ask Knute for one.” There she was, talking to herself. The thought that Knute didn’t seem to want to speak with her any more than she did him sent a dart into her heart.

  Maybe the kitten would be a good reason to go see him. An excuse, at least. And she could check on Dorothy.

  People came and went all day at the Bjorklunds’, dropping food off or stopping to visit for a little while and then moving on. Ingeborg kept refilling the coffeepot, and Astrid kept washing dishes. The Bjorklund cousins played beside Haakan’s bed, then snuggled down with him to take their naps. Thorliff helped with the outside chores, and Elizabeth put Haakan through hot and cold therapy she’d read about, then devised new ways to torture him, or so he called it.

  “All in the name of regaining your strength,” she blithely reminded him. “I thought you wanted to be ready to do spring work.”

  “I do.”

  After everyone but Astrid left and Haakan was sleeping, Ingeborg picked up her knitting and sat down in her rocker. Astrid looked up from the textbook she was studying.

  “Can I get you anything?” Astrid asked. “That’s usually my line.”

  “I know. Just answer the question.” She marked her place with a slip of paper.

  “No thank you.” The cat jumped up in her lap and bumped the top of her head against Ingeborg’s chin. Her purring added to the feeling of peace in the room. Ingeborg stroked the furry back and, when the cat settled in her lap, returned to knitting soakers for Ellie’s baby. She’d not had much time for knitting lately, nor piecing the quilt she was making for Inga’s bed. So with all she had to do, why was the thought of riding the plow behind four up making her heart sing? She knew if she insisted, Haakan would agree. Instead, she would go out tomorrow and start forking the straw and manure, which they had banked up against the house to help keep it warmer for the winter, into a wheelbarrow and haul it over to the garden, where they would throw it on the snow or the dirt and plow it in when the ground was dry enough.

  Perhaps she could start that when he was sleeping. Although each day he slept less, not including today.

  “Rebecca didn’t come today,” Ingeborg commented.

  “I know. She said she would, but I’m sure she got busy pricing things and getting ready to reopen the mercantile tomorrow. She talked about doing a gardening display in the window, like Penny used to do. Besides, I don’t think she was ready to see her brothers.”

  “None of the other Baards were in church either.”

  “I noticed.” Astrid kept her finger in the book. “I told Elizabeth I’d go help at the surgery for a while tomorrow, if you were agreeable.”

  “That will be fine. Although I thought you might help me shovel away the banking.”

  “I can do that too.”

  “What kinds of fabric did Rebecca get in?”

  “She has ginghams, calicos, dimity, lawn …” She scrunched her eyes to better remember. “Lots of plain colors too. Word will get out, and all the women will be there stocking up.”

  “I hope she ordered plenty of needles.”

  “She did. I counted out the packets. Every size, for machines and for hand sewing.”

  “I’m glad Penny didn’t see the way Jeffers let her store run down. Speaking of which, did Rebecca mention the attack?”

  “Ja, we talked about it. She was doing fine until Mrs. Valders made her big speech. Mor, you would have been so proud of Thorliff. He stood between her and Rebecca, and with the utmost calm and fine manners, he eased Hildegunn right out the door. I feel sorry for those who live with her.”

  Ingeborg thought a bit, especially since Hildegunn had been so courteous at church that morning. “Maybe she’s not so bossy at home. You know, she always speaks politely to Mr. Valders. And it sounds like he never mentioned his part in the sale of the store. So he doesn’t tell her everything.”

  “Smart man. I know what the problem is.”

  “Oh, you do? Really?” Her smile took any possible sting out of the teasing words.

  “She’s jealous.”

  “Who? Hildegunn? Of what, whom?” The click of the needles picked up speed.

  “Of you.”

  Two words that dropped into the pool and spread ripples across the placid water.

  Ingeborg laid down her knitting, making the cat grumble and stretch before leaping to the floor. “Of me? Why?”

  “I’m not sure. Let’s think this through.” Astrid propped her elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled her fingers, forefingers against her chin. “You have a good business, the cheese house. You have a lot of friends. You were the doctor around here for years. You have children of your own.”

  “But they adopted the boys.”

  “But they never had babies, little ones.”

  Ingeborg shook her head. “This is silly. Why me? Others have much the same. Kaaren has the school, others have lots of children. God has blessed us all in so many ways.”

  “Whose house do most people come to?”

  “Well, ours mostly, I guess.”

  “As I said …”

  “Oh, Astrid …” Ingeborg shook her head, and a frown wrinkled mouth and brow. “Kaaren’s house is bigger.”

  “But all the deaf students are there.” Astrid picked up her book again. “It’s just something to think about
and perhaps to help us understand her better.”

  “Who’s the mother here?”

  “You. I’m sure not ready to be one. I love being an aunt. Speaking of which, I need to get sewing on the pinafores for little May so she has something to wear this summer. I think I’ll make matching ones for Inga and her doll.”

  “Surely Hildegunn hasn’t let jealousy destroy her happiness all these years.”

  Astrid shrugged. “It was just an idea that came to me.”

  Ingeborg stared at her daughter, who’d gone back to her book on infectious diseases. Jealousy and bitterness, two things that God’s Word said to rip out like quack grass, for they destroyed the soul. Leave no roots to grow. How difficult that was with quack grass.

  31

  MONDAY MORNING REBECCA WOKE when dawn was just a wish on the horizon. Standing at the bedroom window, she watched the horizon lighten, chasing the azure back with the gift that returned every morning. When the few cloud traces turned vermilion and rose, she went about her morning toilet, washing in the water from the pitcher and slipping into a clean waist and dark cotton skirt. Her white apron would cover it all, but she wanted to look nice for the day. Just in case Gerald did come. And since when do you dress for Gerald?

  With her hair braided and wound in a figure eight at the base of her skull, she pulled a few wisps free and spit-curled them around her forehead. There. The slightly warped mirror showed a comely young woman with wide-set hazel eyes, hair with glints of fire like the sunrise, a pert nose, and lips that loved to smile. She’d heard those words describe her on the girls’ night together and had filed them away for future reference.

  Downstairs, she started a fire in the kitchen stove, blowing on the coals she’d carefully covered with ashes to keep them alive. At least she’d not started seeds at home, since she wasn’t there to take care of them. Somehow she would manage to plant some here if Penny wasn’t going to take the store back. So many if onlys. Fixing breakfast for just herself seemed a waste of time, so she toasted some bread and opened a jar of applesauce. That with a cup of coffee would have to suffice.

  She checked the new ledger on which she’d printed the accounts of people who lived in and around Blessing. Collecting those would take some time, but she needed cash so she could order more merchandise. Thorliff couldn’t be paying for all the stock. The store had to pay for itself. She glanced down the two lists she’d made of more things needed, the first list being the more necessary items and the second list less so. Considering how much they’d already ordered, the store was definitely in debt.

  After breakfast she started a fire in the stove in the store to take the chill off the air and to make coffee. From now on there would be coffee for any shoppers who wanted a cup. Two chairs and a bench waited near the stove for those who wanted to sit and talk.

  When she turned the Closed sign in the window to Open and unlocked the door, Gerald was already waiting for her on the porch.

  “I thought you were sick.”

  “Good morning to you too.”

  “Are you sure you should be here?”

  “I’m not contagious. And I promise to go home before I faint.” He motioned to the door. “May I come in and help you?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course.” Maybe she had a fever; her cheeks felt on fire.

  “You look lovely.”

  She coughed on the words she was going to say, whatever they had been. What had happened to him? “Did the fever addle your mind?”

  “Hardly. What do you want me to do?”

  “Do you know how to run the cash register?”

  “I used to.”

  “It’s the same one. I put money in it for change. The ledger book for accounts is right beside it.” She glanced to the door. Maybe no one would come. Surely the word had gone around the area that the store was open again. She figured many would come out of curiosity, if nothing else.

  She talked Gerald through running the cash register, explaining that two keys stuck sometimes, so he had to watch for that. Just being this close to him brought a flush to her cheeks.

  She could feel his gaze on her hands, her face. Maybe having him help wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  The bell tinkled, and Mrs. Solberg peeked in. “Are you indeed open?”

  “I am.”

  “Good. I really have needed needles for quite some time, and …” She followed Rebecca to the sewing section and clasped her hands under her chin in delight. “Oh, look at these daisies.” She fingered the yellow lawn with white daisies. “May I have four yards of that, and—”

  The bell announced another customer.

  Rebecca measured and cut fabric, lace, and elastic, restocked the seed rack, and wrote down things that needed to be ordered. In between she found herself looking over to Gerald, and he would be looking back at her with a smile. Several women brought plates of cookies to go with the coffee, and she had to take time out several times to refill the coffeepot.

  While Gerald moved the ladder over to get a harness off the wall, she rang up another customer. A dollar bill got stuck behind the drawer, so she gave a jerk, and the entire drawer flew out, throwing coins, notes, and paper money in every direction.

  “Oh!”

  “Are you all right?” asked Mrs. Solberg. “Here, let me help you.” She came around the counter and knelt to help retrieve the errant money.

  Rebecca picked up the cash drawer and stared at the bottom of it. “Look at this.”

  Mary Martha peered at the brown paper envelope that was glued to the bottom of the drawer. “What do you suppose it is?”

  “I have no idea.” Did Penny leave this and forget it? Mr. Jeffers? “There’s no name.”

  “Well, you manage the store, so opening it must be part of your job.”

  Gerald joined them in picking up the money. “Interesting,” he said when Rebecca showed him the envelope stuck to the underside of the drawer. “Open it.”

  Rebecca dug a fingernail under one corner and pulled up gently, trying to keep from ripping the paper. It wasn’t terribly old, but smudges and some wrinkles showed the wear. Would it be money? What? Feeling like she did on Christmas when she tried to figure out what was inside the packages before they were unwrapped, she finally loosened the envelope and laid it on the counter while she and Gerald put the money and notes back in the correct places and the drawer back in the cash register.

  Several customers waited, watching the proceedings and speculating on what might be in the envelope.

  Rebecca took a letter opener from a wooden drawer under the counter and slit the brown paper. Inside were several pages, a form of some kind, and a picture of a man and a woman, which looked to be a wedding picture. She turned it over. Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Jeffers. The date read June 1, 1872. She opened the folded paper.

  “It’s a patent application and approval. Mr. Jeffers must have left this.” She looked from Mary Martha to Gerald, who both shook their heads.

  Mrs. Solberg studied the picture. “This must be Mr. Jeffers’ parents, but he certainly bore no resemblance to them.”

  They looked like fine upstanding folk, but then, many families had a black sheep in their pen. Mr. Jeffers made even a dirty black sheep look good.

  Rebecca slid the papers back in the envelope and put the envelope in the drawer under the counter. She would pass it along to Thorliff later.

  “Next, please.”

  32

  “THEY’RE COMING. THEY’RE REALLY coming.”

  “From Norway?”

  Ingeborg fluttered the letter at Haakan sitting in his rocking chair, now moved back into the kitchen. “You want to hear it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Dear Ingeborg,

  “Mange takk for your fast answer to our letter. We are so grateful you are willing to help us with a place to live and jobs. As I said, there will be four adults and two children. We have our tickets to sail from Oslo to England on the fifteenth of June. We should arrive in New York on the twen
ty-fifth of June and then will take the trains to your town of Blessing. We have been learning to speak English like you suggested, but we do not know very much yet. I remember going to the setre every summer with you, those so many years ago.”

  Ingeborg looked over the top of the letter to her husband. “You remember that the setre is where we took the cows to the high mountain pastures in the spring.”

  “Ja, I remember. That is where you learned to make cheese.”

  “Whoever would have dreamed on those mountain meadows that I would marry and come to these flat lands.” She shook her head. “How I would love to see mountains again before I go to heaven.”

  “Would you like to go back to Norway?”

  “For a visit, ja. But to live?” She shook her head. “I am truly an American now. I want to live here.” With you for many years to come. She returned to the letter.

  “Thank you for paying part of our fare. That generosity was far beyond what we had hoped. Please send as much information as you can so that we don’t get lost along the way. I send you greetings from those remaining in Norway. Perhaps another time we can help bring more relatives to the new land.

  “Your cousin,

  Alfreda Brunderson”

  Ingeborg read silently through the letter again, then looked to Haakan. “What other advice and information do you want to send? We need to write the letter and mail it soon.”

  “Let us think on it. Right now I would like to walk down to the barn.”

  “And back?”

  “Ja. That would be a good idea.” He shook his head. “What have you been doing out there and not wanting me to know?”

  “Just getting ready for the garden. Andrew said he’ll be plowing before too much longer.”

  “This sitting around with so much to be done.” Haakan glared at his hand and stuck out his right foot. “Surely there are things that I can do; we just have to devise a way.”