His Brother's Castoff

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His Brother's Castoff Page 11

by Lena Nelson Dooley


  Gerda went to her bedroom and returned with her Bible. She opened it and searched for a particular passage. “I want to read something to you. I read it last night, and God brought it back to my mind. Here it is, Matthew 10:29–31: ‘Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.’ God made you special, Anna, and He has a plan for you. Maybe you haven’t found it yet.”

  “Read those words to me again.” Anna dropped into the rocking chair, leaned her head against the back, and closed her eyes.

  After Gerda finished reading the verses, Anna sat and let them soak into her heart.

  Gerda began to turn the pages in her Bible again. “Here’s another Scripture. Psalm 139:13–16: ‘For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.’ Anna, these words apply to you, too. You were fearfully and wonderfully made according to God’s plan. You are altogether lovely, as He created you to be. Nothing is wrong with you. And He cares about everything that happens in your life. He understands your desires to have a husband and children, and in His timing, He will bring it about.”

  These added words were a balm to the wounds in Anna’s heart. When Gerda began to pray for her, she sat and listened. She felt the presence of the Lord stronger than she had in a long time, and the pain in her heart started to recede.

  Eleven

  August was glad that he needed to make horseshoes today. While he pounded the red-hot iron bar flat, he berated himself. “Why were you so stupid?” Bang. . .bang. “How could you have yelled at Anna?” Bang. . .bang. “She’ll never know that you love her.”

  “You’re right about that.” August hadn’t noticed that Gustaf had walked into the blacksmith shop until he spoke above the pounding.

  August dropped his chin against his chest and took a deep breath before turning to face his brother. “I guess you heard every word I said.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “You weren’t exactly speaking softly.” Gustaf had a twinkle in his eye that August didn’t want to see. “I’m surprised that everyone couldn’t hear you. It’s a good thing the smithy is on the edge of town.”

  August knew the fiery forge caused his face to redden, but now there was an additional reason. He hoped that no one passing in the street heard what he said.

  “There wasn’t anyone walking by.” Gustaf must have read August’s thoughts. He often did that. Sometimes August didn’t mind, but more often than not, it drove him crazy.

  “Good.” August nodded. “So what brings you here today?” He glanced toward the table where he kept things waiting to be repaired. He didn’t see anything added to the carefully arranged items already there. “You didn’t bring me any work, did you?”

  Gustaf slid his hands into his back pockets and rocked up on the balls of his feet. August knew he did that when he wanted to discuss something serious.

  “No, I only thought that you might need someone to talk to.”

  “Because of what I was saying when you came in?” August studied his brother’s expression, trying to discern what he was concerned about.

  “No, Gerda talked to me about what happened in the Dress Emporium yesterday.”

  August stared at the floor. He scuffed the dirt with the toe of his boot, drawing overlapping ovals. “I’m not very proud of that.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” Gustaf quickly agreed. “Can you take a break, or do you have too much work?” He glanced around the shop.

  August looked at the nearly empty table. “Nothing that I need to rush to finish. Where do you want to talk?” Since there were no chairs in the smithy, it wasn’t conducive to long conversations.

  “The church worked really well last time. Do you want to go there?”

  The brothers were each lost in their own thoughts as they trudged to the church. When they were inside the building, Gustaf led the way to the front pew. After sitting, he bowed his head. August knew his brother was praying. He wanted to pray, too, but instead he sat silently, hoping the feeling of peace he always received at church would soak into him today. However, it seemed to be far away.

  Gustaf spoke first. “You’re still having trouble with jealousy, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t feel the strong jealousy of you that poisoned my life before.” August leaned his forearms on his thighs and let his huge hands dangle between his knees. He studied the wooden floor between his work boots. “It’s been coming out about other things now.”

  “That isn’t healthy.”

  August nodded. “I know. That’s why I was berating myself when you came into the smithy.”

  “Maybe we didn’t do enough when we talked last time. I’ve been reading about roots of bitterness.” Light pouring through the one stained glass window cast a warm, multicolored glow over Gustaf’s face. “You have to get to the very bottom of them before you can dig them out of your life. Maybe we need to find the root of the jealousy in your heart.”

  That made sense to August. He sat up and put his arms along the back of the handmade wooden pew, drumming his fingers on the polished surface. “Do you have any idea how I can do that?” He would welcome any help he could get. He had wrestled with this problem far too long.

  Gustaf sat silent so long that August thought he wasn’t going to answer. “I’ve been praying about that ever since Gerda told me what happened yesterday. I feel the Lord is telling me that we need to go as far back in your memory as we can. You told me you were jealous of me before we came to America. Do you know how long you felt that jealousy in Sweden?”

  For several minutes, August studied the wooden cross that hung behind the pulpit. His thoughts returned to their native land and the life they lived there. “I don’t remember ever not being jealous. . .of you.”

  Gustaf stood and paced toward the platform, but he didn’t step up on it. He turned around to face August. “Were you jealous when you were. . .say, ten years old?”

  August thought a few minutes while he reconstructed in his mind what he felt when he was ten. “Yes.”

  “What about when Gerda was born?”

  August remembered that Gustaf got to hold their baby sister more often than he did. That had never seemed fair to him. He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Okay, before that. . . What about when Lars was born?”

  It took August awhile, but he remembered when Lars was a baby. Gustaf had been very proud of the new little brother. Suddenly, August could see with clarity into his long-ago memories.

  Before Lars was born, Gustaf had doted on August. As the little brother, August had followed him around like a puppy, and his older brother was proud of him. He helped him do a lot of things. They were real buddies, always together. August could hear his father’s voice saying how his two boys were inseparable and how proud he was of them. August didn’t feel anything but admiration for his big brother. He was stunned. It took him awhile before he could articulate what God had revealed to him.

  He finally looked up at Gustaf, his beloved older brother. “I was not jealous of you before Lars was born.” He hated to admit that. What would Gustaf think of him now, knowing that jealousy of a baby brother had caused all the heartache?

  Gustaf smiled. “I’m so glad. I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to find the root of your jealousy. I’ve prayed since yesterday that God would reveal it to one of us. He answered my prayers. I praise Him for that.”

  August looked up at the ceiling. “I remember that you were so proud of me. We went everywhere together. Fader even told peop
le how proud he was of his two sons.” He dropped his head and studied the floorboards. “Then when Lars was born, you didn’t spend as much time with me.” The words sounded so petty coming from his mouth.

  Gustaf moved to sit beside August on the pew. “Brother, I’m so sorry that I caused this.”

  August looked up at him. “You were only a boy. You didn’t do anything any other brother wouldn’t.”

  Gustaf put his arm across August’s shoulders. “I think it’ll help if I ask for your forgiveness, and you choose to freely give it to me.”

  August had tears in his own eyes when he looked into his brother’s teary eyes. “Of course I forgive you. I. . .” He cleared his throat before he could continue. “. . .love you.”

  The brothers clutched each other in a strong embrace while they wept for the special times they had lost. When they finally stood, each pulled a bandanna from his pocket and wiped his face. August couldn’t believe how much lighter he felt. It was as if the weight of an anvil had been lifted from his heart.

  “This was a turning point in my life.” August smiled at Gustaf. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “Jealousy has been a habit in your life a long time, but I believe God will help you break it, if you let Him.”

  When the two men returned to the blacksmith shop, they both walked with a spring in their steps. August expected Gustaf to leave when they reached his horse that was tied to the hitching post outside the building, but instead he came into the smithy.

  After leaning against the table, Gustaf crossed his arms over his chest. “So, what are you going to do about Anna?”

  August didn’t have a ready answer. He had been wondering the same thing. What could he do about Anna? After yesterday, she probably thought he was a lunatic, or worse.

  “I don’t know.” He started straightening things on the table, even though they weren’t in disarray.

  “Do you love her?”

  August stopped what he was doing and faced his brother. “You get right to the heart of the matter, don’t you?”

  Gustaf didn’t say a word but gave August time to consider his answer.

  August leaned against the table beside his brother and crossed his own arms. “Yes, I love her, for all the good it’ll do me.”

  “Does she know?”

  After thinking a minute, August said, “She ought to.”

  Gustaf blew out an exasperated breath. “Why should she? Have you told her?”

  “Of course not, but I’ve been showing her in a lot of ways.”

  “What kind of ways?”

  August started listing them. “I’ve made them a cushioned sewing chair. I bought a book of poetry for the apartment. I try to fix everything that needs fixing. I go to see her almost every day.”

  Gustaf straightened away from the table and brushed off the back of his jeans. “You have a lot to learn about women, Brother. None of that was for only Anna. Gerda shared them.”

  “Well, I did buy her some pretty handkerchiefs. They had dainty needlework flowers on them. They reminded me of her when I saw them in the mercantile. On impulse, I bought them and took them to her.”

  Gustaf smiled. “That’s a step in the right direction. Now stop doing things that can be for both Gerda and Anna. Make sure that everything you do to show her you love her is for Anna alone. And eventually, you’ll need to tell her how you feel.”

  “I kissed her.”

  Gustaf laughed. “Oh, I heard about that kiss. Remember, Gerda was there. I don’t think that one counts. You probably need to do something to make her forget that one. A while back, didn’t you tell me that you were going to pray about whether Anna was the woman God wanted you to marry?”

  August moved away from the table. “Yes, and I feel that God told me she was. That’s why I’ve been trying to do things for her. So she would start having feelings for me.”

  “If God has told you she’s the one, pour all your efforts into wooing her.” Gustaf headed out the door, but he turned back. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  ❧

  After her conversation with Gerda, Anna couldn’t get August out of her mind. Was he as interested in her as Gerda thought? If so, why did he yell at her? Wouldn’t a man who loved her want to protect her, not yell at her?

  Protect her? That was an idea. Maybe August thought he was protecting her from Pierre. . .Mr. Le Blanc. The words that August said about the way Mr. Le Blanc looked at her left an uncomfortable feeling in Anna’s heart. She had allowed the man to become a friend. Had he been unsuitable? If so, why hadn’t she noticed? Besides, she wouldn’t even have paid any attention to him if it hadn’t been for August’s irrational accusations when the Le Blancs first came to town.

  Anna didn’t need all this turmoil in her life. If August was interested in her, he needed to learn how to treat a woman. And it wasn’t by yelling at her in her own store. Anna hoped there weren’t many customers in the mercantile. She was sure that whoever was there heard every word she and August exchanged. Anna hadn’t even been able to face Marja or Johan since the confrontation.

  August hadn’t been showing interest in her. He had been trying to control her, telling her what to do. She didn’t need that. It reminded her too much of the last words Olaf spoke to her before he left on that hunting trip. Anna didn’t want a man who controlled her without taking into consideration what she felt about anything. She wanted one who would love her the way her father loved her mother. He was the head of the household, but he wasn’t heavy-handed about it. If Anna were to marry, she would be glad to be a helpmeet, as the Bible said, to a man who wasn’t overbearing.

  Too much had happened in the last few days. Anna was tired of all the turmoil. The best thing for her to do would be to stay out of the way when August was around. Then he couldn’t yell at her again.

  ❧

  After his conversation with Gustaf, August plotted his next move. He would win Anna’s love or die trying. She was worth it. He could face anything with her by his side. And the family they would have would be such a blessing.

  The next time he went to the dress shop, Anna wasn’t there. Gerda said that she had left for a few minutes. So he decided to come back later. Once again, Anna had left before he got there. August went into the mercantile to look at the newer merchandise. The Braxtons were always adding things to the store. Recently, it was a larger shelf of books. He was browsing through the titles when he heard Anna and Gerda talking in the dress shop.

  He picked up a book of poetry by Emily Dickinson. The slim volume was bound in soft, maroon leather. Anna would like it. Gerda had said that Anna enjoyed the book of poetry he bought for the apartment. After paying for the volume, he asked Marja to wrap it up for him. Then he went into the dress shop. Gerda was rearranging some of the merchandise in the showroom.

  “August, you’ve come back.” Gerda spoke louder than usual.

  He wondered why she spoke so loud, then he heard a door closing. It sounded as if it came from the workroom. When he asked about Anna, Gerda told him that she wasn’t in the shop.

  As he walked toward the boardinghouse, carrying the package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, he wondered what was going on. Was Anna hiding from him? Of course, he couldn’t blame her. He would have to figure out a way to get her to see him. Maybe he could go to the apartment after dinner and deliver this book.

  August finished the delicious meal Mrs. Olson prepared, then he went upstairs and shaved again. He wanted to look as nice as possible when he saw Anna. He even changed into his best pants and shirt. When August started toward the mercantile building, he couldn’t see any light in the windows of the apartment. The bedrooms were on the front of the building. Maybe the girls were in the parlor or the kitchen. But when he arrived at the top of the stairs, there wasn’t a hint of light coming from the windows. They weren’t home. All that trouble for nothing. But that was all right. He would try again tomorrow. August was patient. He would do whatever it too
k to win Anna’s love.

  Twelve

  June

  Anna enjoyed poetry. The words sang in her heart. After eating lunch in the apartment, she picked up the book of poetry August brought by two evenings ago. She decided to sit and read a few pages before she returned to the shop so Gerda could have lunch.

  When she sat in her favorite rocking chair, instead of opening the volume, her fingers stroked the texture of the smooth surface. She lifted the book close to her face. The scent of the new leather reminded her of August. The other book of poetry he bought had been for both her and Gerda, but this one was inscribed inside from August to her. She would never understand that man. He had aggravated her when he yelled at her. She placed the fingertips of her right hand over her lips, once again feeling the memory of his lips on hers. When he kissed her, it touched more than her mouth. Even in his anger, his lips had felt soft and velvety.

  If truth were known, Anna hadn’t wanted the kiss to end so quickly. She had often wondered what it would feel like to be kissed on the mouth. Gustaf had never kissed her, and when Olaf did, it was on the cheek or forehead. But August had touched her lips, and she couldn’t forget the feeling. He was such a confusing man. Either yelling at her, kissing her, or doing nice things. Maybe all the good things could outweigh the other.

  When Anna realized how long she had sat daydreaming, she put the book down and went to the bedroom to check her hair in the mirror over her washstand. Gerda had waited long enough for her lunch.

  ❧

  August had the doors of the smithy wide open. It was June, and the heat from the forge called for a cool breeze. But this spring had been pretty dry. He would welcome a storm if it brought the wind to cool things off.

  For some reason, today the forge smelled hotter, more smoky. August went to the door to get a whiff of fresh air. When he stepped outside, he realized that the smell of fire and smoke didn’t only come from the forge. The livery stable that was a little ways down the street had smoke pouring out through the door and every window. It billowed from the opening to the hay loft and formed a wreath around the entire roof of the building.

 

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