Sophie's Dilemma

by Lauraine Snelling

  Nice? That was all he could say? Nice? With all her wiles and a kiss that sent her spiraling into space, he left her with a tip of the hat and ‘‘nice’’?

  She stamped her foot and stormed into the house, ignoring Grace’s questioning look and stomping up the stairs to throw herself across the bed and let the tears flow. He didn’t really love her after all. The kiss that had sent her into the clouds meant nothing to him or he wouldn’t have left her with ‘‘That was nice.’’ To top it all off, she was no closer to leaving with him.

  She fell asleep that night dreaming of a kiss that went on and on.

  ‘‘Sophie, whatever is wrong?’’ Kaaren laid the back of her hand against her daughter’s forehead. ‘‘No fever, but are you sick?’’

  Sick with longing. ‘‘I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.’’ She knew she had black smudges under her eyes. The mirror had told her so. Oh, to crawl back in bed and pull the covers up to hide her misery.

  That evening she watched him come striding across the pasture, and when they met, he kissed her in spite of her pale cheeks and dark shadows. While she fought to keep to her resolve to be cool and proper with him, all she wanted to do was burrow into his chest and rest in the strength of his arms. A teasing smile was beyond her. This wasn’t the way she’d planned any of it.

  She poured his coffee and helped her mother serve the dessert as Lars and Hamre talked about the changes the mill would make in town and which was better, gasoline engines or old-fashioned steam. But when she walked with him out to the porch as he was leaving, he kissed her again. She knew then he no more wanted to leave her than she him, and he pulled away with great reluctance.

  ‘‘Oh, Sophie, how will I leave you?’’

  ‘‘Don’t. Take me with you.’’

  He laid a finger on her lips. ‘‘Hush, don’t talk like that.’’ Then he kissed her on the forehead and strode back toward town.

  Sophie watched him go, her hands clenched at her sides. ‘‘You cannot leave me, please don’t leave me.’’ When she went into the house, she walked past the others and climbed the stairs, her feet weighing more with each riser. Three more days before her life ended.

  She woke in the night, her pillow damp from her tears. ‘‘God, if you hear me at all, could you please let me go with Hamre?’’ She whispered the prayer, grateful for the first time that her sister could not hear her. But when Grace’s hand covered hers lying between them, she knew Grace understood. No longer a game, Sophie sighed and turned over to lay her hand on Grace’s shoulder. Three taps, their signal of thank-you, but this time with a far deeper meaning. No words but a heart-to-heart message between two who had shared one womb.

  One more night before he left. Sophie could no longer summon a smile. ‘‘I cannot bear for you to leave.’’ She blinked to keep the tears from falling and failed utterly.

  ‘‘Ah, my Sophie.’’ Hamre wiped her tears away with his thumbs, cupping her jaw between his hands. When he pulled her into his arms, she burrowed in like a lost child, wrapping her arms around his waist. This time when he kissed her, he lingered on her lips, whispering words of love, holding her close against him. When he broke away, she swayed until he caught her close.

  ‘‘I’ll ask your father again.’’

  ‘‘No. he won’t relent. Just come for me, and I will go with you. I don’t care about anything but going with you. Once we are married, they will forgive and forget. All will be well.’’ And if not, we will be too far away for it to make a difference. Except for Grace. Can I not at least tell Grace? No. She will tell Mor. She cannot help that.What she thought would be a thrill had now become desperation. She clung to Hamre. Why did love have to hurt like this?

  ‘‘I will have a bag packed and hidden in the haymow.’’

  ‘‘Sophie, let me ask your parents again.’’

  ‘‘No. Then they will not allow me to see you. I know my pa. He seems gentle, but when he makes up his mind, he does not change it. This is the best way. Trust me.’’

  Hamre turned away. ‘‘I should say no to this scheme, but so help me, I cannot leave you behind.’’ He wrapped her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. ‘‘This is not right.’’

  ‘‘Perhaps not right, but necessary.’’ Why did she feel years older than she had a week ago? Was it only a week, or had she loved him already for a lifetime?

  When she said good-night to her mother, she hugged her close and breathed deep of the fragrance that was her mother. Forgive me, Mor. I don’t know what else to do. She kissed her father’s cheek. Good-bye, please forgive me, but I have to leave.

  ‘‘Something is happening,’’ Grace said as they crawled into bed.

  ‘‘I had to say good-bye to the man I love, so yes, something is happening. My heart is breaking.’’ Sophie hugged Grace and whispered against her ear. Knowing her sister couldn’t hear her made it worse. ‘‘Forgive me. I’ll write to you.’’

  You can still back out, a small voice whispered inside her mind.

  No I can’t. I have to live up to my word. But which word? The one to Hamre or the one to her father? Hamre would come back for her in a year. But what if he didn’t? She was certain she could feel her heart ripping in half. What if they never speak to me again?

  Later, when the whole house had quieted, she slipped out of bed and tugged her resolve into place while she dressed in her warmest wool skirt and a long-sleeved waist with a cameo at the neckline. After tucking her nightdress into a small bag she’d stowed in her chifforobe, along with her brush and comb, a washcloth, towel, and soap, she snapped it shut. Surely they would send more of her things when she wrote and asked for them. A tiny shiver of dread spilled on the excitement. Wouldn’t they? The note she had written she propped on the chest of drawers, where Grace would see it. Tiptoeing down the stairs, she let herself out the back door just as Hamre approached the steps. She stepped into the comfort of his arms.

  ‘‘I have your bag in the buggy. We will go to Pastor Solberg to ask him to marry us.’’

  Where had all her excitement gone? Married?Wasn’t that what she wanted? Sophie shook her head. ‘‘He won’t.’’

  ‘‘We will ask.’’

  She let him take her small bag, and together they stole away. When she was sitting in the buggy, she looked back at the house, where those she loved most lay sleeping. Good-bye, I love you. Don’t forget me. She half rose, the urge to return home so strong she felt sure someone was tugging on her shoulder, drawing her back. Then Hamre settled into the buggy and took her hand in his.

  ‘‘Your hand is like ice.’’

  Sophie swallowed, a sigh of pain nearly choking her. And so is my heart. I never thought leaving would hurt like this. Grace . . . oh, Grace, don’t hate me.

  As they pulled up to the ranch house where Pastor Solberg lived, she could only think, He’ll never do this and then he’ll ride over and tell Ma and Pa, and they’ll drag me home again.

  ‘‘I’ll go talk with him and be right back.’’ Hamre gave her a hug that should have been comforting but wasn’t. She couldn’t stop shivering.

  When he returned, it wasn’t with a smile but with a shake of the head. He climbed into the buggy and drove in a circle to head back to town. ‘‘We will drive to Grafton and find a minister or a justice of the peace to marry us there.’’

  ‘‘Will Pastor Solberg tell?’’

  ‘‘He does not know you are with me.’’

  As the miles passed beneath the buggy wheels, Sophie slumped against Hamre until he put his arm around her and let her sleep against his chest.

  She woke to find herself sheltered in his arm. How many miles had they come? Was he having second thoughts like she was? ‘‘Hamre?’’

  ‘‘Ja.’’

  She reached up and smoothed her hand over his cheek. ‘‘I love you.’’

  He turned his face into her hand and kissed the palm that smelled faintly of soap. ‘‘Ja, that is good.’’

  They were married just before
breakfast by a black-robed judge who invited them to join him after they’d said their brief vows.

  ‘‘Thank you, but . . .’’

  ‘‘No buts. Mrs. Johansen, put two more plates on. These young people need a good meal to start their new life.’’

  Once on the train Sophie stared out the window. She had her wish and her prayer. She was now Mrs. Hamre Bjorklund. What would the future hold?

  7

  ‘‘INGEBORG, SOPHIE IS GONE.’’ Kaaren nearly fell in the door as it crashed against the wall.

  ‘‘Gone?’’ Ingeborg reached to catch her sister of the heart. They couldn’t have been closer were they truly sisters, they’d been through so much together. Oh, how could Sophie do this to her mother? ‘‘What happened?’’

  ‘‘She ran off with Hamre last night.’’ Kaaren wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. ‘‘Lars is searching for her, but I know they are gone.’’ She handed Ingeborg the note Grace had found on the chest of drawers.

  Ingeborg guided Kaaren to a chair and sat her down. ‘‘Have you eaten?’’

  ‘‘I cannot eat.’’ She tipped her head back, tears leaking from under closed eyelids as though getting those three words out were all she could manage. ‘‘How could she do such a thing? Lars asked them to wait only for a year, until she graduated. We didn’t tell her she could never see him or anything so dramatic.’’

  Ingeborg sat Kaaren down on a chair and poured a cup of coffee for each of them before sitting down herself to open the envelope and take out the sheet of paper.

  Dear Grace, Ma, and Pa,

  Hamre and I left during the night. We will be married. Once we are in Seattle I will write to you. Please forgive me, but I cannot live without him.

  Sophie. She cannot live without him when ten days ago she was flirting with Heinz. Ingeborg reached for Kaaren’s hand. Like a trapped bird, it trembled beneath her own. ‘‘Oh, my poor dear. All I can say is that God will keep her in the palm of His hand. And He will give you strength.’’ Ingeborg continued reading.

  You know Hamre is a good man and will provide for me.

  I love you all

  Sophie

  P.S. Please don’t hate me.

  Seeing Kaaren’s ravaged face, Ingeborg wished the girl were right there to be shaken soundly. How could she do such a thing to parents who loved her so dearly? And not just to them, but to Grace.

  ‘‘How’s Grace?’’

  ‘‘She went to school. She hasn’t cried.’’

  ‘‘She’s angry?’’

  ‘‘Oh ja, she is that. So are Lars and the boys. I keep telling myself God is taking care of her, but right now . . . I just want . . . her home.’’ She took a handkerchief from her apron pocket and blew her reddening nose. ‘‘Trygve was all for getting on the train and going after her.’’

  ‘‘How did they—? Hamre must have rented a horse and buggy from the livery and driven them to Grafton.’’ Ingeborg thought a moment. If someone caught the train this morning, it would be the same one Hamre and Sophie would take west. But would it make any sense to try to stop them?

  ‘‘Hamre gave Lars his word. Doesn’t that mean anything anymore?’’

  Kaaren’s tears flowed in spite of her mopping efforts.

  Ingeborg read the note again. Please don’t hate me. Uff da. What was the child thinking? She put the note into the envelope, handed it back to Kaaren, and rose to cut some cheese. ‘‘Here, eat this and a piece of toast. That will taste good. Ilse is taking care of the school?’’

  ‘‘Ja.’’ Kaaren took a sip of her coffee, clenching the cup between her cold shaking hands. ‘‘To think Hamre would . . .’’ Her sentence trailed off as she shook her head slowly, as if even that little motion took what energy she had left.

  Of all the children, Sophie was the most headstrong—had been from the time she was tiny. But she had always watched out for Grace. Or was it during these later years that Grace had watched out for her sister? The twin bond between them was far stronger than between other brothers and sisters. Ingeborg thought back to when the girls were babies and were most content sleeping cuddled together, how Kaaren and Lars had learned Grace could not hear and their resolve to help their baby daughter live in the hearing world around her. As close as their families were, Ingeborg loved the twins like she loved her own children.

  Uff da, Lord. You know all, and you knew Sophie would leave. Nothing surprises you. Comfort Kaaren and Lars—and Grace. She’s been put out with her sister the last week or so—Sophie’s cutting her hair, fussing about school. Ingeborg shook her head and got up to refill their coffee cups. How would I feel if Astrid did something like this?

  ‘‘Mange takk,’’ Kaaren whispered. ‘‘One minute I am so angry, and the next, all I can do is cry and pray.’’ She chewed on her lower lip. ‘‘And Lars. He is so angry.’’

  That afternoon after school was out, Pastor Solberg came to the Bjorklunds’ door.

  ‘‘Come in, come in,’’ Ingeborg said.

  ‘‘No, I’ve come to ask a favor.’’

  ‘‘Of course. How can I help?’’

  ‘‘Would you go with me to talk to Kaaren and Lars?’’

  ‘‘Of course. Let me change my apron and get my shawl. It’s brisk out here; fall has come.’’ Oh, Lord, now what?

  He helped her up into his buggy and climbed in himself. ‘‘This is a sad day.’’

  ‘‘Ja, that it is. A shock. Kaaren came to us this morning with the news.’’ She watched her pastor and longtime friend as he stared straight ahead. Something was bothering him. Lord God, you know what is wrong. John has been with us for all these years and seen it all. Life, death, sickness, health, joy, and sorrow. Help him now with whatever is bothering him. Give him an extra measure of grace to sustain him.

  He stopped the buggy in front of the picket fence that fronted the Knutson house. Hog wire continued on the other three sides, enclosing the yard and garden for protection in case the cows got out, which had happened more than once. He got down and came around to help her out, his shoulders rolled in as if he carried a burden far heavier than he could manage.

  Together they mounted the front stairs to the porch instead of going to the back. This was indeed a formal call.

  ‘‘Oh, I didn’t see you come up,’’ Kaaren said after opening the door to their knock. ‘‘Come in. I’m afraid you won’t find us very happy here today.’’

  ‘‘We need to talk about that.’’ He indicated the parlor. ‘‘Can we sit down? Is Lars near?’’

  ‘‘I’m right here.’’ Lars came in from the kitchen.

  ‘‘Good. I’d just as soon talk to you both at the same time.’’

  When they’d all taken a seat, Solberg sighed and began. ‘‘I have a confession to make.’’

  Kaaren looked to Ingeborg, who shrugged and looked to their pastor to continue.

  ‘‘We were all in bed when someone knocked on the door last night. I got up to answer, and it was Hamre. He asked me if I would marry him and Sophie right then.’’

  ‘‘Was Sophie with him?’’ Lars asked.

  ‘‘She didn’t come to the door with him, but I assume she was. I invited him to come in, but he just stood there. I-I didn’t know what to say. I prayed for God to give me wisdom. I thought that if I said yes, it might delay them, but then I wondered if I said no what would happen. So I said I would be delighted to marry them, but that Sophie needed to have your permission, and then we could have the wedding in a day or two, when their families could rejoice with them.’’ He stared at Kaaren and Lars sitting side by side on the horsehair sofa. ‘‘I was hoping to buy time, to keep them from making a big mistake.’’

  ‘‘It wasn’t your fault. It was theirs.’’ Lars’s voice wore a hardness not heard before.

  ‘‘Then today when Grace said Sophie was gone, I was heartbroken, as I know you are. I . . . I’m sorry. I should have gotten on the horse and come to tell you then, but I thought they were going to wait. Hamre thanked
me and said something about changing plans. Please . . . will you forgive me?’’

  ‘‘There is nothing to forgive.’’ Kaaren took Lars’s hand and, glancing at his face, turned back to Pastor Solberg. She shook her head, carefully, as if she had a headache. ‘‘We can all say ‘if I had done this’ or ‘if we had done that,’ but that does no good.’’ She studied their clasped hands. ‘‘My mind says I will trust God, but my heart screams I want my daughter back.’’

  ‘‘To hurt her mother like this . . .’’ Jawline tight, Lars narrowed his eyes. ‘‘That is unforgivable.’’

  ‘‘No. Please don’t say that.’’ Kaaren squeezed his hand.

  ‘‘I asked at the livery. Sam said Hamre rented a horse and buggy, and it hadn’t come back yet.’’ Lars covered his wife’s hand with his other.

  ‘‘You think they drove it to Grafton?’’ Ingeborg asked.

  ‘‘Possibly. Take most of the night.’’

  Ingeborg knew Kaaren was thinking the same thing she was: Surely they wouldn’t live in sin. Surely Sophie wouldn’t be that wild. Would a pastor or a judge marry them there? How were they going to live? Hamre said he lived in a boardinghouse. Uff da! No answers. The note said Sophie would write when they got to Seattle. But that was three days on the train. It would be at least a week before a letter could get back to Blessing, perhaps two.

  ‘‘How is Grace?’’ Solberg asked.

  ‘‘Angry. Disappointed. The same as the rest of us.’’

  ‘‘So all we can do is pray for her—for them—and wait,’’ Kaaren said with a catch in her voice.

  ‘‘Unless we send out a posse.’’ Lars leaned back, arms clamped across his chest.

  ‘‘Like her brothers?’’ Kaaren raised an eyebrow.

  ‘‘Good thing they aren’t older or I’m sure they would go.’’ Ingeborg felt a knot loosen inside. Kaaren had smiled on that last comment.