His Brother's Castoff

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His Brother's Castoff Page 2

by Lena Nelson Dooley


  Gustaf was the older brother. The perfect older brother. The brother August had been jealous of most of his life.

  He wasn’t sure when it had started. Maybe something happened when he was very young, something he couldn’t even remember. But he knew that the jealousy always had been there, eating away at him. As he grew older, he tried to control it, but he was never able to completely destroy it. The jealousy was like a disease with no cure.

  The Nilsson family had immigrated to America. August was still in his teens when they came to Minnesota from Sweden. He was the only one in the family who hadn’t wanted to leave their native country, but he didn’t express his opinion in the family discussions before they came. After all, he was the quiet one. No one expected him to have any objections. Everyone else was so set on coming. Especially Gustaf. And Gustaf usually got what he wanted. Ja, that was for sure.

  The first time the Nilsson family attended church in America, August lost his heart to Anna Jenson. He tried not to let anyone know that he was watching her, but he was aware of every move she made. She was tall, with dark hair cascading down her back that first time he saw her. Before long, she had started wearing it up, as the other young women did, but August had never forgotten how it looked, swinging as she walked, barely brushing her hips.

  August was not as tall as Gustaf, but even at nineteen, he was a big man. That’s why he made such a good blacksmith. He was strong and muscular. But he was also shy. So he quietly studied Anna every time he was near her, trying to work up the courage to talk to her. He liked the fact that she was tall and strong.

  August had never been interested in small girls. He felt clumsy around them. He was afraid he would hurt them without meaning to. Even though she wasn’t dainty, Anna had a grace about her—not like some tall women who slumped to appear shorter. He liked everything about her.

  Before he worked up the courage to speak to Anna for the first time, Gustaf sat beside her and introduced himself. She had smiled up at him. August liked watching her eyes flash, and a smile spread across her face as she talked. Why couldn’t he be like Gustaf? He should have spoken to her first. Then she would have been smiling up at him instead of his brother.

  After that first day when Gustaf spoke to her, Anna had not paid attention to any other man. She had followed him around every time they went to church. Soon she and Gerda had become best friends. They spent a lot of time together, either at the Nilsson farm or at the Jensons’. August tried to harden his heart against her, but when no one was looking, he feasted his eyes on her beauty, wishing he were his older brother so she would notice him.

  After a couple of years, Gustaf and Anna started keeping time together. Since then August had a major, ongoing battle with the jealousy. He would pray, begging God to take it away. But the next time he saw Anna and Gustaf together, there it would be, making its way back into his heart. He was glad when his father let him move to town and apprentice as a blacksmith. He didn’t see Gustaf as often, so he was able to control the jealousy a little more.

  “Are you trying to beat that horseshoe to death?” Gustaf’s voice penetrated August’s dark thoughts.

  August stopped what he was doing, took the bandanna from his back pocket, and wiped the sweat from his face again before he turned toward the doorway. “That iron doesn’t shape itself, you know.” Gustaf laughed with August. “What brings you to the smithy? Do you have something I need to fix?”

  Gustaf dusted off the front of the work table that was next to the wall, then leaned against it. “Can’t I just come to visit my brother?”

  “Ja, for sure.” August stuffed the bandanna back into his pocket. As he joined Gustaf against the table, he crossed his arms over his chest, placing his hands under the opposite arms. “So how’s Olina doing?” Whenever he was with Gustaf, he was better able to control his emotions. It was after Gustaf left that the tormenting thoughts would do battle in his mind.

  Gustaf shook his head. “This time she has a lot more morning sickness. It’s hard on her, since she has to take care of Olga, too.”

  “But she’s okay, isn’t she?” August really cared about his sister-in-law.

  “Ja, Mor assures me this is normal.” August was sure that Gustaf was glad their mother lived so close so she could help sometimes. “I wish I could take some of it away from her. I want to protect her.”

  August wondered what it would feel like to have a woman to love and cherish. Would he ever know that feeling? He couldn’t imagine ever loving a woman the way Gustaf loved Olina.

  The two men shared a moment of companionable silence before August asked another question. “So, how’s my favorite niece?”

  “You mean your only niece, don’t you?” Gustaf chuckled. “Now that Olga is walking all over the place, Olina has her hands full. That’s why I don’t come to town as much as I used to. When I’m not at the farm helping Fader, I stay home to give Olina some relief. And Olga loves me. When I come home, she runs across the room with her arms outstretched and wants me to pick her up, even before I have time to clean up.”

  A stab of jealousy penetrated August’s carefully constructed defenses. Here he was twenty-six years old, and still he had no family. If Gustaf hadn’t spent so much time with Anna, maybe he would have spoken to her. Maybe he would be the one with a wife and child—and another on the way.

  When Gustaf broke off his relationship with Anna, August could have tried to establish one with her. But jealousy raised its ugly head. He didn’t want his brother’s castoff. If he hadn’t fought jealousy so long, maybe he would have started something with Anna that could have led to a permanent relationship. Before he was able to overcome his aversion to having Gustaf’s leftovers, Olaf Johanson had already captured Anna’s affections.

  “Well, I only stopped by to tell you that Gerda is staying at the house to fix supper tonight so that Olina won’t have to. She told me to ask you to come.” Gustaf stood away from the table and brushed off the back of his trousers.

  “I won’t turn down a home-cooked meal, that’s for sure.” August got tired of eating at the boardinghouse, and he wasn’t able to cook in his room. Occasionally, he would go to the hotel dining room to eat, but by far his favorite place to eat was at the house of one of his relatives. And Gerda was a wonderful cook. This would be a good evening, getting to see Olga and having a home-cooked meal.

  As Gustaf ambled out the door, August picked up the horseshoe with the tongs and held it in the flames of the forge. While he watched the iron change color, he fought the demons that threatened to consume him, bringing them under control once again. Sometimes it was very hard to do, and today was one of those days. He didn’t want them to accompany him to his brother’s house later and ruin the evening for him.

  ❧

  When August started to knock on the door of Gustaf and Olina’s house, he heard Olga shriek with glee. Probably Gustaf was teasing her or chasing her. She liked to be chased. Her little legs would pump as she rushed across the room, often falling into a heap of laughter. Someday maybe he would have a daughter.

  Before his knuckles connected with the door, it flew open. Gerda looked into his face, laughing. “Come in, August. You’re just in time for all the fun.”

  August stepped inside. Olga looked up at him and laughed out loud. She put her hands on the floor and pushed her little bottom into the air before she stood up. Then she rushed toward him with her arms outstretched.

  “Unka, Unka, up!”

  August bent down and grasped her under her arms. He lifted her into a high arc that ended with him showering her neck with kisses as he gathered her close to his chest. By the time he was through, they were both breathless with laughter.

  “Is anyone hungry?” Gerda looked from one brother to the other. “Or are you going to spend all evening playing?”

  “August, it’s good to see you.” Olina descended the stairs, looking regal, but a little pale. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, then took her daughter from his ar
ms. “Come, Olga. Let’s eat supper.”

  After they finished eating, August told Gustaf and Olina that he would help Gerda clean up. He enjoyed spending time with his sister. She kept him up on what was going on better than anyone else did.

  After she had told him all about what was happening on the farm, he asked, “So how is the dressmaking business?”

  “We’re very busy.” Gerda hung the tea towel on the edge of the cabinet and took off her apron. “It’s hard to keep up with all the orders.” She leaned close to him and whispered, “I’m trying to protect Olina from having to do much. She gets tired so easily.”

  August nodded. “I can see that. Have you thought about getting someone else to help out?”

  August pulled out a chair from the table and sat in it. Gerda did the same.

  “I thought about asking Anna, but she is working so hard on the wedding. And then she will have a home of her own to take care of.”

  ❧

  Olaf Johanson kept his promise to Anna. He returned before the wedding. Two days before the wedding. But he wasn’t riding his horse. He came home in the bed of a wagon, completely wrapped in canvas. Even his face.

  Now Anna knew why she’d had such a bad feeling about the hunting trip. Maybe God was trying to tell her something. She had never been able to get that thought to dissipate the whole time Olaf was gone. Why couldn’t he have listened to her when she tried to tell him? Had he ever cared about her feelings? Perhaps their whole marriage would have been that way, with him trying to control her and not letting her express who she was and what she felt.

  Here she was on what was supposed to be her wedding day, getting ready to go to her fiancé’s funeral. Her white silk dress was carefully packed away in a trunk, and she wore black wool gabardine. She wasn’t even eligible to wear widow’s weeds, because she wasn’t a widow. But she felt like one. Once again, her heart had been ripped to shreds.

  The service was held in the community center out on the prairie. Olaf’s parents didn’t want the funeral to be in the white clapboard church in town. They had only gone there on rare occasions, instead preferring the family feel of the services held in the structure that was so near their farm. Anna hadn’t even had any say in the plans for the service. She would have preferred that the funeral be held in the building in town. It seemed more like a church than this one did. She couldn’t keep from remembering all the parties she had attended here.

  The edifice was used as a schoolhouse and for community functions as well as for church. The last time Anna had been here was for a party. The room had been draped with gaily colored paper streamers. Today it was so stark. Stark and cold. Cold and dreary.

  At the front of the room, Olaf’s handcrafted pine box was covered with autumn leaves, since it was too late for any flowers. Actually, there weren’t many leaves left either. It had taken Anna and Gerda a long time to find enough to cover the top of the casket. At least his family had let her take care of that detail.

  During the service, Anna sat on the front bench beside Mrs. Johanson. Gerda sat beside her. Anna didn’t think she would have been able to get through this without Gerda’s friendship. Tears trailed down Anna’s cheeks, and Gerda pressed a handkerchief into Anna’s hand. She wiped her tears away and returned the handkerchief before they filed out of the building, following the pallbearers to the open wound in the ground.

  When they stood beside the grave and listened to the preacher recite the Lord’s Prayer, Anna couldn’t remember what had gone on during the service inside the building. It was a blur in her mind. Everything since Olaf’s body arrived home was a blur. Everything except the pain in her heart. That pain was focused and sharp and penetrating.

  Why were her last words to Olaf spoken in anger? Why hadn’t he loved her enough to listen to her warning? She didn’t even want to think about what this day should have been.

  When the graveside service was over, Gerda guided Anna back inside the building. Several women had turned the community center into a place to serve dinner to the family and friends of Olaf. Although the room was still stark and bare, the smell of food permeated every corner. Anna looked at the table spread with a bounty of dishes, and her stomach churned. She fought back the feeling of nausea. Hadn’t enough happened without her throwing up in front of everyone?

  “May I fill a plate for you?” Gerda sat in the chair beside Anna.

  Anna shook her head. “Not now. I couldn’t eat a thing.”

  Gerda patted her hand. “If there is anything I can do, just tell me.”

  Anna nodded without speaking, tears streaming down her cheeks again. Gerda took another pristine white handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to Anna. She must have known that Anna would need more than one.

  ❧

  When the men finished shoveling the dirt on the coffin in the grave, they came into the building for something to eat. They had worked up a good appetite both digging the grave that morning and then covering it up after the service.

  August looked around the room and saw his sister with Anna. He was glad Gerda was there for her. Anna needed someone right now. His gaze traveled from her hands twisting a soggy handkerchief to her face that was still wet from tears. In his opinion, even the red blotches could not take away from her beauty. His heart constricted at her pain. He wished he could shoulder it for her and shelter her from this storm that life had raged against her.

  Lustrous, abundant dark brown hair framed her face. The black hat could not hide the highlights that gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the window. August was sure her hair must feel silky and smooth. It had been so long since he had seen Anna with her hair down, but sometimes a stray curl would make its way from her carefully constructed hairstyle. He would love to see her hair hanging in waves again. He wished it was his right. For a moment August was lost in a fantasy world, and the jealousy receded, but it didn’t depart.

  When he came to his senses, he realized that his thoughts were probably inappropriate. How could he fantasize about Anna when it was the day of her fiancé’s funeral? What kind of man did that? August didn’t really want to know, and he didn’t want to be that man. He gave himself a mental shake.

  “Are you going to eat anything?” Gustaf sat beside August and interrupted his thoughts.

  “I was waiting until everyone else had filled their plates.” August didn’t take his eyes off of Anna.

  “So you can eat all that’s left?” The often shared joke didn’t lighten August’s mood, but he agreed out of habit.

  Before taking a bite, Gustaf followed August’s gaze across the room. “What’s so interesting about our sister?”

  “What?” August looked at Gustaf. What was he talking about?

  “Or maybe it isn’t our sister who has captured your interest.” Gustaf turned back toward his plate and lifted a fork full of mashed sweet potatoes.

  August got up and went to the table. Anna’s two brothers, Lowell and Ollie, were filling their plates.

  “Do you think Anna is going to be all right?” August tried to sound casual.

  Lowell, the brother who was a year older than Anna, stopped putting food on his plate and stared at August. “What do you mean?”

  That surprised August. He took a minute to think about his answer. “I just wondered. Today was supposed to be her wedding day, wasn’t it?”

  Ollie, a year younger than Anna, nodded. “So what?”

  “Well. . .” August was having a hard time putting his thoughts into words. “It might be extra hard on her, losing Olaf that way. . .” He stood there with an empty plate, trying to think of something else to say.

  Lowell and Ollie both turned back to piling food on their plates. They didn’t seem to be bothered by what was going on with Anna, and they must have dismissed August’s question. Suddenly, August’s appetite left him. He stared down at his empty plate, then at the long table of food. He could have his choice of almost any food he liked, but after putting only a few spoonfuls on the
plate, he returned to his seat by Gustaf.

  “What’s the matter, Brother? Have you lost your appetite?” Gustaf glanced at August’s nearly empty dish.

  “I guess I worked too hard today. Nothing looked that good.” But that wasn’t quite true. Something looked good to August, but it didn’t have anything to do with food.

  Three

  November

  Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the funeral. Where had the time gone? Anna pulled back the curtains and opened the window. A cool autumn breeze brought fresh air into the oppressive bedroom. She had spent most of the time mourning in this space. This place that had often been a refuge for her now felt more like a prison cell. She had cried a lake full of tears, and now she felt empty. Empty and used up. Would the pain ever come to an end?

  Anna wanted a change, but what? Could anything alter what happened to her? She opened the door of her wardrobe and looked at all the finery there. It bulged with more clothing than most women she knew owned. But Anna loved to sew. She often designed new frocks for herself or her mother. It had been a long time since she had felt like dressing up. She had worn the same old dark, dreary black or brown dresses too long.

  Somehow today she couldn’t put either of them back on. They lay in a heap on the floor in the corner of her bedroom, a quiet testimony to her tragedy. It didn’t seem right to wear anything bright or fashionable, but she had to wear something. Maybe an older house dress.

  As her hand hovered over the garments in the polished oak wardrobe, her gaze was drawn to her riding clothes. Although the family made their living raising horses, she hadn’t been on her mare in a long time. Anna knew that the open air would do her good. Maybe it would freshen her outlook a little. . .if anything could.

 

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