The Reaper's Song

by Lauraine Snelling

  The woman in front of her shook her head. “You know that and I know that. And Anner does too, but he is so stubborn. He wanted to buy that land from Mr. Booth, you know.”

  How long, O Lord, will we pay for Hjelmer’s land-buying deals? “Yes. Well, it is better to let bygones be bygones.” Now she sounded just like her aunt Matilda.

  “You know that, I know that, the Good Book says that, but men, sometimes they have a hard time forgetting.”

  Penny sighed. Men could be so stubborn. “What can I get for you, then?”

  “You have some of Ingeborg’s cheese?”

  Penny nodded. “I just got in a shipment of needles too.”

  “Oh good, I’ll take a packet.” Mrs. Valders fingered the yellow-and-white checked gingham. “This would make such a lovely dress for my niece, don’t you think?”

  All Penny could think of was the man over by the boots. “Yes, yes, of course.” Where is Hjelmer?

  The bell tinkled again. “Excuse me. Why don’t you think about the gingham, and I’ll see what this person wants.”

  “Good afternoon, Penny. You have any mail for me?” Reverend John Solberg tipped his hat and smiled his sunny smile. Seeing him and his cheerful ways could make anyone feel good.

  “I most surely do.” Penny stepped behind the counter to the rows of cubbyholes with names above them. Besides owning and running the store, she’d been appointed postmistress by the Dakota Territory once the train started tossing off a mailbag when it stopped for water. While the pay wasn’t much, many people purchased things they needed when they came for the mail. Anything to increase business.

  She handed him a letter and a flat package. “Here you go.”

  “Ah, wonderful. My book has arrived.” Reverend Solberg put the letter in his pocket and began untying the string. “I ordered this from St. Olaf College, you know.”

  Penny handed him a pair of scissors. How is Ephraim doing with the boots? She kept the thoughts and the impatience off her face. “Can I get you anything else? Ingeborg just brought in cheese and eggs this morning. Oh, and butter.”

  Mrs. Valders laid the bolt of material on the counter. “Well, Reverend Solberg, are you ready for the baptizing on Sunday?”

  “Oh yes. It’s not often a pastor gets so many to baptize at once. We should have done it last spring. You ladies will be meeting for quilting Saturday, won’t you?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Probably will be the last time until after harvest, not that we’re not busy harvesting our gardens. I have extra beans if you would like some.”

  Penny shifted from one foot to the other. What was the man doing back there by himself?

  “I’ll take four yards of this gingham and a packet of the needles,” Hildegunn said before turning back to visit with the pastor.

  Penny measured out the crisp material and folded it carefully. “I have some lace over there that would look real good around the neckline and sleeves. You want to see it?”

  Mrs. Valders nodded. “Have you called on that new family south of town, Pastor? They come from Wisconsin, I think.”

  “Yes, I have. They plan on bringing their baby to the baptism on Sunday too.”

  Penny set a roll of two-inch lace on the counter and a roll of one-inch, along with a spool of yellow thread for Mrs. Valders. Then she turned to Reverend Solberg. “Can I get you anything else, Pastor?”

  “I’ll take some of that cheese, a dozen eggs, and a pound of butter. There must be something special the Bjorklunds feed their cows. They make such good butter and cheese.”

  Penny turned to the wheel of cheese she had sitting on the side counter. She moved the knife around the circle until he said to stop and cut a wedge.

  “You might as well cut mine at the same time. Make it about double that,” Mrs. Valders said. “I’m thinking this winter I might lay by a whole wheel if Ingeborg has it. She still taking things out to the Bonanza farm too?”

  Penny lifted the chunk off the scale and wrote down the weight. “Far as I know. I think St. Andrew Mercantile isn’t getting much anymore, though. I’ve kind of taken their place.”

  “Never hurts to be family.” Pastor Solberg drew out his wallet. “How much do I owe you, young lady?”

  Penny added up the figures. “That’ll be fifty-two cents.”

  He handed her the change. “Are you thinking of carrying bread too, by any chance? I never have been good at baking bread.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a good idea. You know of anyone who might like to bake for me?”

  “No, but I’ll study on it. Along with my new book.” He picked up his parcels. “Thank you, my dear, and God bless.”

  Mrs. Valders leaned across the counter but spoke loud enough for the departing pastor to hear her. “We just need to work harder at finding him a good wife.”

  “Maybe we should put a sign in the window.” Penny wanted to take back her words as soon as they came out, but Hildegunn went on as if she never heard.

  “Shame there aren’t more marriageable women around here. There sure are plenty of single men.”

  Penny wished she could check on Ephraim, but for some reason she didn’t want Mrs. Valders knowing he was back there. At least not until she’d told Hjelmer the good news. Once Hildegunn Valders caught on to something, the entire Red River Valley knew it within the hour.

  “You sure there’s no mail for me?” Mrs. Valders peered at the box with her name. “Oh, I see there’s some for Odells. I’ll drop theirs off on my way home.”

  Penny handed her the mail and finished wrapping the cheese. “That lace would look real nice.”

  Mrs. Valders laid it across the bolt, then wrapped some around her wrist. “You’re right. Give me a yard and a half of the narrow—no, make it three. I’ll stitch it in along the placket. What do you think? And a collar maybe. Round.” She nodded. “Thank you. It surely is nice to be able to buy these things right here in Blessing.”

  Yes. Now if only your husband would bring his horses here for shoeing and the wagon wheels for refitting, Hjelmer needs the work too. “I’ll make sure I have plenty of sugar and coffee and such for when the weather starts to change, Mrs. Valders. Then you won’t have to go to Grand Forks or Grafton for your supplies this winter.”

  Penny totaled the purchases, but before she could say the amount, Mrs. Valders leaned closer. “Could you put that in the book, please?” she whispered. “I hate to ask that, but until harvest . . .”

  “I know.” Penny withdrew the ledger from under the counter and penciled the amount in a column under the Valders’ name.

  “Thank you.” The woman gathered her bundle together. “We’ll see you on Saturday at the quilting, won’t we?”

  “If Hjelmer can take time to look after the store.” Penny came around the counter. “Here, let me help you out with that.” She took the cheese and package of notions and material and led the way out the door. The horse tied to the hitching rail shook its head and shifted so that the buggy creaked. Mrs. Valders climbed up in the buggy seat and took the packages from Penny.

  “Thank you again.” She unwrapped the reins from the whipstock and clucked to her horse, pulling back on the reins at the same time. “Bye now.”

  Penny waved and hurried back into the store, trying to look as if she wasn’t hurrying a bit. What if Ephraim had left?

  But when she turned the corner into the aisle, she stopped instantly. Her guest was still in his chair, one boot on, one off, chin on his chest, eyes closed.

  She studied him from the distance. He looked worn, and not just his boots. The frayed cuffs, the hat faded light in some places, the dark stains around the sweatband, and the pants patched on one knee by someone not accustomed to using a needle and thread. His face, slack in sleep, had once been good-looking but now seemed ground down by the heels of life. She guessed his age to be forty or so, but sun and wind had a way of aging human skin.

  Yet it was a good face, void of the lines of bitterness worn by so many w
ho passed through on their way to a new life out west.

  An idea lighted her mind like the flare of a newly lit lamp before the chimney is set in place. Maybe he would like to stay on and work for some of the folks in the area. Haakan and Ingeborg were always in need of another hand, and once harvest started, the need would be even greater.

  Besides, now that she finally had a member of her family within touching room, she wasn’t about to let him go. She had plenty of questions to ask. In the stillness, she heard his stomach rumble.

  Her intake of breath woke him.

  “Ah . . . I . . . ah . . . sorry.” He straightened, instinctively searching for his hat. “Guess I was tired.”

  “I guess so, if you could sleep with all that’s been going on around here. I have dinner about ready. Would you like to join us?” Us, if she could ever find Hjelmer. Where could he have gone? And without telling her. What if someone had come needing a blacksmith immediately?

  “I don’t want to put you out none.”

  “You won’t be. How did the boots fit?”

  “Right fine, this pair.” He held those up by his side. “How much are they?”

  Penny caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He didn’t look as if he had two nickels to rub together. She named the price she paid for them.

  He nodded. “Figured as much. Maybe I can find someone with a boot last and can mend these of mine again.”

  “My sister-in-law, Ingeborg, has one. But if you need those . . .” She glanced at the boots he had pulled back on. One side was cracked out, the soles on both looked thinner than the gingham Mrs. Valders had taken home with her, and she could see his toes on the left one. She thought quickly. How to save his pride and yet get him into some decent foot coverings?

  “I have a pile of wood that needs splitting out back. My husband hasn’t had time to get to it, and—”

  “Thankee, ma’am, but I ain’t one to take charity.” He got to his feet.

  “It isn’t charity when one member of a family helps out another. And I got a lot of catching up to do on family.” Penny gentled her voice. “Please.” Men could be so stubborn. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “Well, if I can work ’em off somehow . . .”

  “Good. You will.” Penny snatched up the others he’d tied together again by their laces. “You can wash up for dinner out back. Man can’t chop wood on an empty stomach.” She turned as the bell rang again. “You go through that door over there. Washbasin is on the bench—water in the reservoir of the cookstove. I’ll be back soon as I take care of this customer.” Then she sang out in a cheery voice, “Coming.”

  But her voice and smile hid the thoughts crowding her mind. Could something have happened to Hjelmer? Immediately she banished that idea to the woodshed where it belonged. Why, he’d been out in his shop not over an hour ago. Or was it longer? Seems she’d spent half her life waiting for that man.

  “Morning, Miz Bjorklund. You got any chewing tobacco?” asked one of the workmen that was checking the track.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, but I told your friend that yesterday.”

  “How come there ain’t no rooming house here in Blessing?”

  “No one’s thought to build one yet. Guess we didn’t know there was a need.” Penny stepped behind her counter. “I’ve got some fine cheese here, though. Better for you than tobacco, anyhow.”

  “Any bread?”

  Penny started to shake her head. She could feel her brain gearing up with a new idea. “How many men on your crew?”

  “Three. Why?”

  “Did you bring dinner with you?”

  “No. Where would we get that? The place in Grafton don’t provide meals, just beds. And not so good a ones at that. Charge a quarter too.” The man shook his head. “Highway robbery, if’n you ask me.”

  Penny could barely wait for him to quit griping. When he paused for breath, she leaped in. “If the three of you want to wash up, I’ll set the table. I’m serving beef stew with new carrots and potatoes, fresh baked bread, and custard pie for dessert for . . .” She paused. Swallowed. “For two bits apiece.”

  “All you can eat?”

  Please, Lord, let there be enough. She swallowed again and nodded. “All you can eat.” Her voice squeaked on the “eat.”

  “I’ll go ask the men.”

  “You do that, then come around that side of the building.” She pointed to the left.

  As he went out the door, she sliced off a hunk of cheese and dug some dill pickles out of the barrel. By the time she had finished, he stuck his head back in the doorway.

  “They’re comin’.”

  She flipped the sign on the door to closed and hurried back to her kitchen. A red-and-white checked oilcloth already covered the table. She could hear Ephraim out back sloshing water and humming. She dipped more hot water into a bucket and set it on the bench. “Could you draw me another bucket from the well? We got more company for dinner.”

  “Why, sure.” He hung the towel back up by the mirror. “There somewhere special you want this water tossed?”

  “On the roses there.” She pointed to a pair of plants under the kitchen window. Hjelmer had given her those for her birthday not long after they were married. One red and one white. She stepped out and, taking her shears out of her apron pocket, snipped two blossoms of each.

  Setting them in a jar on the table, she quickly set four places. If and when Hjelmer came home, he’d have to wait. Somehow the thought didn’t aggravate her a bit, though it might him. But then . . . She cut off the thoughts and sliced the loaf of bread she’d made the day before. After putting that full plate on the table, she dished the stew into a serving bowl. My, but it smelled good.

  “Where you want this?” Ephraim asked, hefting the bucket.

  “Pour as much as you can into the reservoir. Oh, and please fill the teakettle.” She whirled from slicing the cheese. “Oh, Mr. Nelson, please forgive me. Here you are a guest, and I’m treating you just like family.”

  “You said I was family, remember? And I told you I wanted to earn my meal, so this be just fine.” He did as she’d asked, finishing just as the now washed railroad men rapped at the back door.

  “Come right on in and set yourselves.” Penny pointed to the four places at the table. “This is Mr. Nelson, if the three of you would be so kind as to introduce yourselves.”

  Hats in their hands, the three shifted from one foot to the other, their noses going like bloodhounds in full cry. “Ma’am, this here kitchen smells like a little bit of heaven.”

  The three hooked their hats over the backs of their chairs and sat down, beginning to pass the plates immediately. By the time Penny had poured the coffee, the stew bowl was empty and the leader of the three was looking up, ready for more.

  There was one piece of pie left when they finished. Hjelmer would have to have a cheese sandwich. As they went out the door, they each gave her their twenty-five cents, and the foreman put in an extra dime.

  “Can I pass the word about eating at the store in Blessing?” he asked.

  Penny nodded. “You surely can. Will it be every day or . . .”

  “We’ll try to let you know in advance, but that’s not always possible. Depends on where we’re working. If you’d get a telegraph receiver in here, that would make it easy.”

  Better not give me any more ideas this morning, Penny thought. Wait till the news of this gets out.

  “Name’s Joe Porter.” The foreman stopped before leaving. “Any chance you might get some chewing tobacco in stock? You’d sell a lot of it.”

  Penny avoided shaking her head. “I’ll see what I can do.” She kept the smile on her face till the door closed, then turned to the table where Ephraim sat nibbling on the last slice of dill pickle.

  “You don’t like chawin’ t’baccy?”

  “Not at all. It smells terrible, and I’m not having gobs of spit all over my floors.” She shuddered.

  “How long you had this here place?�
��

  “The store?”

  He nodded.

  “We opened for business the first day of June. So two months it is. Not too long after our wedding.” She crossed to the table and sat down. “Never thought I’d be serving meals for travelers too.”

  “They weren’t travelers. Just hardworking men who appreciated a good meal. Like this one here did. Now, I better get busy to earn out my boots, let alone the dinner.” He glanced at her out of the side of his eye. “Looked to me like you already got a good stack of wood out there.”

  Penny nodded, then slapped her hands on the oilcloth table cover. “But it won’t last long if I get to cooking and baking for people like those men. Makes me think of cooking for a threshin’ crew, and I know plenty about that. Who’d ever thought my working at the hotel in Fargo would be of use in Blessing?” She cocked her head to one side. “But then whoever would have thought there’d be such a place as Blessing?”

  Ephraim got to his feet. “Well, as that old hymn says, ‘God do work in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.’ ”

  Penny eyed him as he talked. “You ever done any cooking?”

  He shook his head. “Not that anyone would want to eat unless they be starving.”

  “Worked in a store?”

  Again the headshake. “No, I’ve tilled fields, milked cows, made hay, and butchered when the time was right. I can fix most anything that’s broke, and I ain’t afraid of hard work. That’s why I’m thinking of homesteading out west. Planned to go as far as the train would take me and then look over the land.”

  “It’ll take you all the way to the Pacific Ocean now, but not this little line that goes up here. You got to go back to Grand Forks or Fargo for that.”

  “I know, but I didn’t want to go to the Pacific Ocean. I like Dakota Territory, and once it becomes a state, this is going to be an even better place to live.”

  “How so?”

  “Just a feeling I have. Now, I gotta get to that woodpile.” He reached for his hat. “Thank you for a mighty fine meal.”

  He got as far as the door before she stopped him. “You any good with sums?”

  “I can add, subtract, multiply, and divide, if that’s what you mean.”