She’d just slid two dried-apple pies into the oven and cleaned up the mess when she heard the jingle of harness and male voices. What was Thorliff doing here this time of day? She didn’t recognize the other voice. And here she’d just emptied and washed the coffeepot.
“Coffee will take a bit of time, but make yourselves comfortable.” She poured more coffee beans into the coffee grinder without looking over her shoulder till she finished. Then she saw the two men who had just walked into the kitchen.
“Mor, I want you to meet Daniel Jeffers.” Thorliff motioned to the young man beside him.
“Glad to meet you.” She crossed the room with her hand out. “Welcome to Blessing. Are you related to—” She stopped, looked at Thorliff, and substituted one thought for another. “Related to the man who used to own the store here?”
“I thought I might be until Thorliff described the man. And when he showed me the photograph, I knew. The man in the picture is my father, Daniel John Jeffers. I am Daniel Jacob. There is no Harlan in our family. And my father is missing.”
“Missing.” She stared into his dark eyes.
“Yes. I came west searching for him. When he left home, he had this envelope with him.”
Ingeborg backed up until the chair hit her skirt and sat down. “But what about—? I mean … He couldn’t …” Her thoughts wouldn’t wrap around this fund of knowledge.
“Is Far sleeping?”
“Not anymore” came from the bedroom.
“Good. I wanted you to hear this.” Thorliff turned to the young man. “You have a chair while I go get him. Like I said, he’s been sick. I’m sure Mor will have the coffee ready very soon.”
“Oh, pardon me. Of course.” Ingeborg rose on a long exhale. “This is too much. If there was some skulduggery going on, no wonder Mr. Jeffers was so secretive.” She shook her head and commenced to making the coffee. “Please, Mr. Jeffers, have a seat.”
She snuck quick glances at him. He had dark unruly hair that tumbled down on his forehead, a square face with a straight nose—the girls would dub him good-looking—hands that had not seen a plow, slender but not as tall as her sons. His clothes were of good quality but not of great wealth. He also looked very tired, perhaps not from hard work but more from worry.
“Where are you from, Mr. Jeffers?” She stumbled a bit on the last name.
“Iowa. My father worked for a farming machinery company and invented things on the side. He applied for patents on several ideas and received approval for this and one other. Deere and Company wanted to buy this one, but Father left on a trip north to Minneapolis with a list of possible partners to produce the new seeder himself, and he disappeared along the way.”
“What happened?”
“We don’t know. My mother is sick with worry. My father had set off with such high hopes. He’d been turned down by one company and thought to find someone who would work with him on bringing the patent into production.”
“Wait,” Thorliff called from the bedroom. “We’ll be there in a minute, so you don’t have to tell everything again.”
Ingeborg smiled at her guest. “The pies won’t be done for some time, but I’ll get something else out to go with the coffee.” She set a plate of sour-cream cookies on the table. “Help yourself.”
When all the men were around the table and Mr. Jeffers was introduced to Haakan, Thorliff asked him to tell his story again from the beginning.
He ended with, “My father visited two companies in Minneapolis and was turned down. I visited the third company on the list and found he’d never made it there. I met a salesman from another company, and he said he’d heard of a Jeffers who owned a store in Blessing, North Dakota. I came here to meet him, just in case.” He motioned to the envelope that lay on the table. “And was given this.” A silence grew as all of them stared at the innocuous brown envelope, dotted with bits of remaining glue around the edges. “How this man got it is the question. And where is my father?”
“I knew as soon as I saw you that you were related to the man in the photo. We thought it odd that Harlan bore no resemblance at all,” Thorliff said, tapping his fingers on the table.
Haakan cleared his throat. “I think this is a job for the sheriff.” He looked to Thorliff. “To where did you buy the ticket for Jeffers?”
“We gave him one hundred dollars in cash and a ticket to Chicago. We wanted him more than one state away. But who knows what he did after he left here. We told him if he returned to Blessing, we’d let the townspeople have him.”
“Meaning what?”
“Well, we led him to believe that tar and feathering might be on his agenda if he returned, or some such mob mentality. After what he did—”
“I take it my name is not very popular here in Blessing.”
“I’m sorry to say that you are correct.” Thorliff reached for the envelope. “May I?”
“By all means.”
Thorliff took out the papers and moved his chair closer to his father’s. “Look at this. I think you’ll agree that this has promise. And I think we could build a prototype here. Maybe go into production. Perhaps Hjelmer would be interested in being part of this too.”
Ingeborg could see the wheels turning in her men’s minds as they studied the blueprints.
Young Mr. Jeffers got up from his seat and stood behind them, leaning forward to point out special details. The discussion grew more animated.
“We need Lars and Andrew here to see this.”
“You want me to go ring the triangle?”
“Please do, and wave them in.”
“They’ll think something is terribly wrong.”
“Not for long. This could be something incredibly right.”
Several hours later, the men sat around the table nodding at each other. Ingeborg could feel the excitement in the air, lifting the hair on her arms like before a lightning storm.
“I’d say we can draw up an agreement regarding this project, if you are willing to do that, or we can just shake hands like we do here in Blessing.”
“Or both.” Thorliff smiled at his father. “Knowing what a snake Harlan whatever-his-name-is, I want everyone protected.”
“Good idea.”
Haakan tapped his chin with one forefinger. “Did your father have a lot of money with him?”
“I don’t think an inordinate amount. Maybe a couple hundred dollars. Why?”
“I don’t know. The Jeffers we know didn’t seem the kind to have enough cash to buy the store from Penny. And yet he did.”
“Did you ever ask Penny how Jeffers paid for the store?”
Thorliff shook his head. “Didn’t seem to be my business. Besides, I wasn’t real happy with her for selling like that. Remember?”
“None of us were.” Haakan turned to Ingeborg. “How about bringing us paper and ink, please? And give it to Thorliff.” He inclined his head toward the young dark-haired man. “We don’t want to try to read my chicken-scratching down the road.”
After they’d all agreed on what to say, they made three copies, signed them, and placed them in three envelopes. Thorliff, Haakan, and Daniel Jeffers each took a copy.
“Now, I suggest you go to either Grafton or Grand Forks and talk with a sheriff regarding your father. Let them see what they can learn. Thorliff, you write out a description of Harlan Jeffers to send with him.”
“Actually, I think I’ll go along. There seems a certain justice in getting an artist’s sketch as close as possible to the man we’re looking for.” He turned to Jeffers. “Come along. We’ll get you set at the boardinghouse and catch the train tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bjorklund, for the delicious cookies and pie and for keeping the coffee coming while we worked.” He nodded to the others. “And thank you. I’m looking forward to working with all of you.”
After closing the door behind them, Ingeborg sank into the chair by Haakan. “Uff da. Whoever dreamed when we got up this morning what amazing things God had in store f
or us? And Penny is coming home. God sure has been working behind the scenes to answer all these prayers.”
35
“YOU REALLY ADMITTED IT. Out loud. That you believe you are in love with Gerald.”
Rebecca stared at the face in the mirror. Even though the glass was wavy, her eyes were clear. And purpose shone brightly. “Why do you love him?” That was the question someone had asked at the party more than a week ago and she’d not had an answer.
“I guess I’ve always loved him,” she’d finally dredged up with all of them staring at her. “He’s been my friend forever.”
“Love is more than friendship,” Sophie, of many experiences, had intoned.
“But doesn’t it start there?” she’d asked.
“Not always, but friendship is good.”
“Ellie loved Andrew forever,” Deborah put in.
“He wouldn’t allow anything else. He branded it on her brain.” Astrid looked at Ellie with a smile.
“Are you saying I don’t think for myself?” Ellie asked, sitting up straighter. “I do too, and remember, I almost made him not come back.”
“That took terrible fortitude on your part.”
“The way I look at it, Gerald would be easy to love,” Ellie said. “He’s gentle and kind.”
“And spineless,” someone dared to say.
That ugly word lay on the floor in the middle of their circle. The circle of friends who were either helping her or hindering her—she just wasn’t sure which at that moment.
“What!” The word made Rebecca want to lunge at the speaker.
“If he can’t tell his mother that you are the one he loves and she must accept that, then he’s not the man for you,” Deborah declared.
They all turned to stare at her.
“Guess that shoots the deer between the eyes.” Astrid grinned at Deborah. “You don’t say a lot, but when you do …”
“Weren’t you even tempted to kiss Kurt?” Maydell asked, her elbows propped on her knees and her chin on her hands. “I mean, he sounds so romantic.”
“I think he wanted to kiss me at the train station, but with Penny and everyone there, he just squeezed my hand.”
“And did you get tingles up your arm?”
Rebecca thought back and shook her head. “I don’t think so. I had gloves on.”
Maydell rolled her eyes. “What about with Gerald?”
“When he looks into my eyes, I get all melty inside.” She had admitted that.
“That’s attraction, all right,” Maydell had said.
Rebecca pinched herself so she could think of the present instead of the past. She didn’t have time to spend staring in the mirror. Today was a new day, and perhaps Gerald would stop by the store before his shift on the switchboard started, as he had the last few days. There were definite advantages to living in town.
And what a relief to know she could stay. Penny had called her herself to make sure Rebecca knew.
“We can’t move back into the store after living in Bismarck, Rebecca. So if you like it, you are welcome to stay. But if you’re finding it lonely and want to move back with Gus, I understand too.”
“I love it here, Penny. I’d love to stay.” She hadn’t added how much seeing Gerald every day meant to her too.
But he didn’t come that day or the next. The furor over the young Mr. Daniel Jeffers had died down, her new order had arrived, and she’d found places for all the merchandise. Penny and Thorliff were working out the sale of the store. Today, since it wasn’t so busy, she intended to fill out her own order for two tables and four chairs, her first real investment in her soda shop. She had located a supplier for the soda machine supplies and planned to order those soon. The company said to allow two to three weeks for delivery. That would give her time to get the store ready. And now that Dorothy had Maydell’s help, she could use her evenings to work on it.
How she would run both her shop and the store during the day until Penny arrived was something she had yet to figure out. If, of course, she could get her own shop up and running that quickly. She was really hoping to open before school let out for the summer.
Mischief bounced down the stairs with her, hinting that it was time to eat.
“I know, I know. I kept some of that chicken for you, and Astrid brought me a jug of milk.” With the advent of warmer weather, the iceman now delivered ice for her icebox, so she had a cool place to store perishables. One thing about Penny, she had ordered the newest items and then talked everyone else in Blessing into trying them. An icebox in the kitchen was easier than a springhouse like out on the farm.
She glanced out the kitchen window. Samuel Knutson had come and spaded her garden, and now when she had time, she would plant her peas, lettuce, carrots, and marigolds. She’d read an article that said marigolds kept bugs away from vegetables, besides adding cheer and color. One of these days she would bring some of the last potatoes in from the farm and cut them up to plant. How strange it seemed to have this little plot rather than the huge garden that she and Dorothy used to work together.
After having bread and milk for breakfast, she let the cat back in and went to open the store. Mrs. Geddick and Mrs. Solberg were chatting as they waited, and Rebecca caught something about “that poor boy.”
“Who?”
“Why, Gerald Valders. He’s had a terrible time with that malaria again.”
“I see.” No wonder he’d not been by. Why didn’t he ask Toby to tell her? The thought got her back up. Why was she always the last one to know when he took sick?
She helped the women with their orders and sent them on their way with a cheerful good-bye and returned to her thinking. What could she take to him that might tempt his appetite? He’d told her once that when he was running the fever, he had no desire to eat.
At one o’clock she closed the store and, wrapping her bowl in a dishcloth, walked over to the Valderses’ house. Knocking at the door, she caught herself humming. A robin hopped around in the grass and with a beady eye located a worm and pulled it out of the ground, then flew up to the tree. Maybe if Gerald sat out here in the shade and watched the world go by, he’d feel better. She knocked again.
When the door opened and Mrs. Valders barred the entry, Rebecca smiled and held up her dish. “I brought something that Gerald might enjoy. I thought I could peep in and maybe cheer him up.”
“Peep into a man’s bedroom, his sickroom, no less? Don’t be so impertinent. That’s the problem with all you young women; you have no sense of propriety.”
Her cheek stung from the verbal slap. She held out the dish. “Well, at least tell him I’m thinking of him and hope he likes this. It is a new receipt.”
Mrs. Valders took the dish. “I’ll see.” She started to shut the door, then added, “Thank you.” The door closed with a click.
How rude! And she has the nerve to say I have no propriety? Rebecca spun on her heel and headed back to the store. The next time she saw Gerald, they would have to have a discussion. Of course, he might have no idea what was going on. His mother might not even give him a taste. As she marched back to the store, she realized an amazing connection. Her brothers kept discouraging her suitors, and his mother did the same. All in the name of what they figured was best for the one kept in the dark. She felt like screaming from the back porch. Out on the farm she could have done that. Here in town, someone would come running to help. Especially after what had happened. Instead, she snatched up her spade and turned over two more feet on the south side of her garden. Pumpkins would be good to plant there. Maybe she could plant her ire too, but who wanted an ire vine? Surely it would grow like quack grass.
At least her bitterness against her brothers was no longer taking root inside. But now she was angry with Mrs. Valders again.
April 1903
Two days later, still a bit green around the gills, Gerald brought her empty dish and freshly laundered dish towel back. “Thank you. It was delicious.”
“I was afraid yo
u would not get to taste it.”
“Why?”
“Well, the way your mother acted, I thought she might just throw it out.”
“No, that would be a waste, and one thing she does not do is waste anything.” He gave a weak smile.
“If you’d like to sit on the back porch here, I’ll bring out some lemonade. Or is it too early in the morning for lemonade?”
“That sounds wonderful. Lemonade sings of summer.” He sat on the chair and reached down to stroke Mischief ’s ears as she rubbed up against his pant leg. “She’s sure growing fast.”
Rebecca poured two glasses and handed him one before she took the other chair. “I’m glad you are feeling better. I’ve missed you.” Well, that surely was saying what she thought.
“Me too.” He smiled into her eyes. “Missed you, I mean, not missed me.” He paused. “That’s not true. I really miss me when I’m in the throes of fever again.”
“Will you always have these episodes?”
“That’s what the doctors say.”
Ask him! I can’t ask him! “Do you ever think of having a home of your own?”
“Sometimes. But I so dread being alone when these episodes come.”
“What … I mean, what do I have to do to be allowed to help take care of you? Marry you?” She hoped her tone sounded teasing.
“Ah, Rebecca, I can’t think of anything I would rather have, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Being ill gives one time for that.” He leaned forward, staring intently into her eyes. “I will never put you in the position of losing someone you love again. It’s hard enough when we don’t expect it, but if we can protect those we love, we should. I will. So I’ll never marry.”
How could he admit he loved her and at the same time say he’d never marry her? Rebecca stared at him in shock. Never? Not because of his mother’s influence but his own choice.
They heard a knocking, and Rebecca leaped to her feet as if spring propelled. “I have to open the store.” She ran to the front door, flipped the Closed sign to Open, and welcomed in her customers. “Look around, and I’ll be right back.”
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