The Reaper's Song

by Lauraine Snelling

  As usual, there was no answer. But then, she really hadn’t expected one.

  “This meeting will now come to order.” Haakan clapped his hands. When no one paid any attention, he raised his voice. “That’s it, folks. Let’s get going on this.” He waited as the shuffling and twittering died down. “Good. Welcome to our first meeting to organize a community bank here in Blessing.”

  A spattering of applause was cut off when Haakan glanced toward the altar, reminding them they were in church. No other building was large enough, and tonight the church was packed from wall to wall.

  “Now, you’ve all received letters telling you about the process of beginning a bank and defining the terms so we can all be talking the same language.”

  A harrumph from the back let loose a spate of twittering again.

  “I know this is new for all of us. I never dreamed starting a bank could be so difficult. In my mind it should be like any other business, but far as I can tell, it isn’t. Now, I’m going to read to you—you have copies to follow along—the articles of incorporation, since we are going into this as a co-op. That means we all have a say in the matters, and there will be monthly meetings to make decisions.”

  “I just want to know who is going to be taking care of my money,” one of the men announced.

  “We all are. That’s what this meeting is about. We will elect a board of directors, but that won’t happen tonight. Tonight we are just trying to make sense out of this and make sure that all your questions get answered.”

  “I don’t know enough to ask a decent question,” someone muttered.

  Haakan could feel sweat trickle down his spine. He wiped his forehead and sent a pleading look in the direction of Reverend Solberg, who shook his head.

  “Right now, I’d like to introduce to you Mr. Jason Kent from the First Bank of Grafton. He will explain anything we don’t understand.” He nodded to the man sitting in the front row aisle seat.

  Dressed in a black frock coat with gray pants, Mr. Kent straightened his tie and stood. “Thank you, Mr. Bjorklund. Now, ladies and gentlemen, let us begin.”

  By the end of the hour and a half of questions, answers, and discussion, his tie was askew, and he’d swept his hands back over his head enough times to make his dark hair fly every which way. But with a unanimous agreement, Hjelmer would be running the bank, and the papers would be drawn up by a lawyer in Grafton. Another meeting would be held in three weeks.

  “I can’t believe it all went so smooth,” Ingeborg said as they left the building.

  “That’s because we laid the groundwork first.” Haakan sucked in a deep breath of crisp air. “You can smell spring coming.”

  “Ja, but we can have more winter too. Just you wait and see.”

  May 1887

  I still ain’t happy about this.” Bridget shook her head as she adjusted the skirt on Katy’s dress one more time.

  “But, Mor, you gave us your blessing.” Katy turned to her mother. “Don’t you like Zeb?”

  “Ja, I like the boy.”

  “Man.”

  “Ja, well, be that as it may, if he would only tell us about his other life. There’s something that isn’t right.” She stepped back to get a better view. “And why do you have to be in such a terrible hurry?”

  “He’s not married.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I asked him if he’d ever been married, and he said no, he never wanted to until now.” The smile that had gone into hiding burst forth again.

  “And you think he is telling you the truth?” Bridget crossed her arms over her chest.

  Katy nodded. “I do. Zeb MacCallister does not lie.”

  “Harrumph.”

  “Have you ever known him to lie?”

  Bridget had the grace to shake her head. “No, never. But there is something he’s not telling us.”

  “Mor, we’ve been over and over this. Haakan has talked to me, so have Kaaren and Lars, even Penny. Everybody likes Zeb, so can’t we just let the other—whatever it is—go and start from this moment?”

  “You could have married Reverend Solberg.”

  “I know, and you could marry that railroad man. He comes to eat at Penny’s, and he can’t take his eyes off you.”

  “I’m too old to be starting all over again. Besides, we ain’t talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

  Katy smoothed the front of her watered-silk dress. “Such a beautiful gown. Kaaren knows just what to do to make something that’s already lovely even lovelier.” She twirled so the skirt would bell out. “I wish Far were here. Hjelmer said he is happy to give me away, but . . .” A tear glistened and ran over. “You still miss him?”

  “Every day of my life.”

  Katy turned and wrapped her arms around her mother. “I always said I wanted to marry a man as good and strong as my far. And if I can be even half the wife that you are, I’ll be happy.”

  “You about ready?” Ingeborg entered to find both women with tears streaming down their faces.

  “Ja, we are ready.”

  The ceremony right after church that Sunday morning led to more than one teary eye in the gathering.

  “Why are you crying?” Andrew asked over and over until Thorliff told him to hush.

  Katy and Zeb both spoke their vows out strong and proud. Katy had practiced enough that she never stumbled once on the English words. Reverend Solberg had given them the choice of using English or Norwegian, and Katy, after a loving glance at Zeb, chose the new language.

  “I, Zebulun MacCallister, take thee, Katja Bjorklund, to be my wedded wife. . . .”

  Hearing love in his deep voice as he said her Norwegian name, she about broke down right there. And if hearts could talk, his did through his eyes. Those beautiful hazel eyes. She felt she could drown in the golden flecks.

  “I, Katja Bjorklund, take thee, Zebulun MacCallister, to be my wedded husband. . . .”

  He swallowed hard, his jaw working.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man rend asunder.” Reverend Solberg made the sign of the cross. “The blessing of Almighty God be with you now and forevermore.” He looked them both right in the eye, then turned just a mite to Zeb. “You better take good care of her,” he whispered.

  He lifted his gaze to the congregation. “Go in peace.”

  The newlyweds turned and led the way out of the church.

  The next day they finished loading their saddlebags, along with a pack horse, to head west for Montana. They planned to follow Zeb’s dream and round up wild horses to bring home to Dakota Territory as a start for a breeding herd.

  “See you get back in time for harvest,” Haakan said, handing up a pouch that jingled. “For you, in case you need this.” He stepped back.

  “Thank you, Haakan. There is no way this side of heaven that I can repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

  “Just pass it on. Your turn will come.” Haakan locked his thumbs in his suspenders. “If you get as far as the mountains, take extra looks at them for us. I hear they’re mighty proud.”

  Ingeborg gave Katy a small packet of soft leather. “Here’s the simples I told you about. I labeled each one. Just hope you don’t need them. When you get near a post office or telegraph, write.”

  “Wish we was going.” Thorliff glanced at Baptiste. “We could catch every broomtail in the entire state, huh?”

  Baptiste nodded. “But keep only the best ones.”

  Dawn was just bright enough to light their backs as the two rode off.

  “God be with you,” Ingeborg called, then whispered, “God be with you.”

  Haakan put his arm around her shoulders. “He is and He will be.”

  The entire town and half the surrounding countryside turned out for the grand opening of the First Bank of Blessing. Hjelmer showed off the safe the Bjorklunds had brought in clear from Chicago, guaranteed to be theft proof, or so the flier read.

  “I never did a safe
blessing before.” Reverend Solberg stood on the wooden sidewalk in front of the store-cum-restaurant-cum-post office-cum-bank. “But here goes.” The crowd clapped, then quieted.

  “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. We are called to be a blessing, and now we dedicate this safe to the benefit of the people and to the glory of God. May it be used wisely and with total honesty according with His holy purposes.” He grinned at the children gathered at his feet. “And now what do I say? I now pronounce you men and safe?”

  Everyone chuckled and when one person began clapping, others followed.

  “The women of the church have dinner ready for us.” He waved to the accordion player. “Heinrich, strike up the band.”

  With that, they all paraded over to the church, led by one man playing the accordion and Uncle Olaf on the fiddle.

  Hjelmer gave a speech after dinner, promising to do his best as the bank manager. He reminded them that he was the manager, but they were the owners.

  “That young man’s gotten right smart since he came to America, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I agree, and if he does again like he did with the land deals, there’ll be more money for all of us.”

  Ingeborg overheard the conversation and saved it to tell Hjelmer later.

  “I found the mistakes.” Anner handed Penny her two accounts books. “Now everything matches up.”

  “You are a miracle worker, Mr. Valders. I hunted three days for them.”

  “Ja, well, I find I like numbers. It’s like cutting lumber. If you are accurate, it all comes right in the end.”

  Penny looked at him, slightly nodding with eyes narrowed. “How about if you take over the bookkeeping for both the store and the post office? Columns of figures aren’t my specialty, that’s for sure. I’d be willing to bet that you could help Hjelmer in the bank too.”

  “I guess I could do that.” He cocked his head, like a robin watching for a worm. “You know, I like the numbers part better than the waiting on customers. I have a suggestion to make, if’n you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? Heavenly days, of course not. Anything to make my store operate better.”

  “I been noticing that people buy more things when you wait on them, because you always say, Did you see this’ or ‘I just got thus and so in.’ And for the meals, same thing. Why don’t you have the elder Mrs. Bjorklund do the cooking, you do the taking of orders and serving, and you tend the counter in the store? I can do the bookwork, stock the shelves, that kind of thing. Now that your cousin is taking care of my farm for me, and Petar is helping Hjelmer with the blacksmithing, Hildegunn and I could get a house built in town and I’d be close enough to help out even more.”

  Penny caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “You are willing to do that? Move into town?”

  “I ’spect it’s the best idea. I heard the elder Mrs. Bjorklund talking about starting a boardinghouse. We need such a thing here, and it won’t hurt none if Blessing grows. Now that we got a bank and a post office, next thing will be a telegraph office.” He gave her a slanted grin. “Unless of course someone starts a saloon first.”

  “There’ll be no such thing in—” Penny dismounted from her high horse as soon as she caught on that he was teasing her. “Well, if that don’t beat all.”

  “What?”

  “You were making a joke, Anner. You realize how long it’s been since I heard such a thing as a joke come out of your mouth? Welcome back, Anner Valders. You been gone a long time.”

  He extended his left hand and shook hers. “And much of it is thanks to you and to Hjelmer for giving me this chance. You, him, and the men of Blessing. I thank our God for all of you and will every day of the rest of my life.” His voice broke on the last couple of words.

  “Did I hear someone call my name?” Hjelmer, his vest unbuttoned and tie hanging loose, strolled out of the banking room and into the store.

  “No, but your ears must have been burning.” Penny smiled up at her handsome husband. “Anner has a proposition for you. Why don’t the two of you go back and pour yourselves a cup of coffee and talk this out? I’ll yell if anyone needs the banker.”

  She hummed as she straightened shelves and dusted around the spice tins. Standing on the step stool, she had just reached for the stack of buckets when she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. But when she looked again, nothing was there. She dusted on but kept one eye out for something that moved.

  There it was again. Couldn’t be a mouse or rat because she saw a flash of red. Climbing down from the stool, she tiptoed over to the main counter and peeked over the top. Two strange children huddled against the counter, stuffing crackers in their mouths as fast as they could chew. Their clothes looked like moths had held a convention in them, a dirt convention at that. Dirt and holes held together by a few threads.

  Who are they and how did they get in here without the bell tinkling? How long have they been here?

  “You know, if you’d told me you were hungry, I’d have gotten you some real food.”

  One dashed one way, one the other, around the counter and making for the door. She grabbed for the one on her right and got hold of his coat. Or was it her? Impossible to tell. She had no time for thought because the child slipped out of the sleeves, leaving her with a handful of coat. She leaped and hit the door just before they did, throwing her weight against it so they were trapped. They darted down one aisle, heading for the back door.

  “Hjelmer! Anner!” Penny’s screeching could be heard clear outside.

  The two men came running. The children collided with the men’s legs. They caught themselves and darted around the men. Or rather tried to. One made the mistake of going to Anner’s good side. The other stumbled. One man per child. Caught.

  Kicking and screaming, the children struggled for freedom. Hjelmer held his captive up by the back of his coat.

  “And what do we have here?” Flailing the air with his fists, the boy called Hjelmer every name he could think of, none of them complimentary.

  Anner, however, had the smaller child clutched to his chest with his one arm and suffered myriad kicks to his thighs and shins. “Be still, you little thief, or I’ll—”

  “You leave my brother alone!” the older one yelled.

  Penny watched the proceedings, her mouth going from an O of astonishment to a widening in laughter. It started with a single giggle, but as the other battle continued, she lost hers. She laughed until her sides ached. Soon all four male creatures were staring at her as if she’d lost whatever mind she’d started with.

  When she tried to stop, the look on Hjelmer’s face set her off again.

  “Do you care to share with the rest of us what is so funny?” Hjelmer quirked an eyebrow.

  “Y-y-you.” She held her hands up in surrender.

  With the boys still, the men got a better grip on them and plunked them both on the counter.

  “Now, stay still.” Anner glared at his charge.

  Hjelmer fixed them with a stern look. “Who are you, where are you coming from, and where are you supposed to be?”

  Both boys crossed their arms over their chests and stared at their knees. The younger one was the first to look up. He cleared his throat.

  “Don’t you say nothin’!” the older one hissed.

  The little one dropped his gaze again.

  All Penny could see was two well-ventilated stocking hats. Blond hair stuck out of the holes of one, slightly darker out the other. “How long have you boys been on the road?”

  “Ain’t been on the road.”

  “I told you to shut up!” the older boy scolded.

  “Been on the train.”

  “Oh, I see.” Penny nodded as though refugees arriving from the train was an everyday occurrence.

  “Can’t you never shut up?”

  Hjelmer and Anner, while keeping a close watch on their captives, let Penny do the talking.

  “So where were you going?”

&nb
sp; Shrugs of both sets of thin shoulders.

  “Guess we better take them to the sheriff,” she said after a long silence. “Maybe he can get them to talk.”

  “The sher—” Anner bit off his word. He nodded to Penny, his eyes crinkling around the edges. But when he looked back to the boys, his face wore the stern mask she’d known for so long.

  “Don’t want no sheriff.”

  “Then you better talk to me.” Penny walked around the counter and, taking the dome off the cheese wheel, cut two small wedges. “Here, this might go well with those crackers.”

  The older boy clenched his hands under his armpits.

  The younger stared at the cheese, glanced at his brother, and snatched the food. It disappeared into his face as fast as he could stuff it.

  “Now you did it.” The older one cuffed the younger.

  “Yeow!” He rubbed his shoulder. “You din’t need to do that.”

  “All right, that’s enough. Now let’s get some answers. Where is your ma?” Penny made her voice tough as hog hide.

  “Runned off.” Spoken to the one remaining button on his too-small coat.

  “Your pa?”

  “Dead.”

  The one-word arrow stabbed her heart.

  The older boy slammed his hand on the counter. “Now ya did it. I was trying to keep us out of the orphanage, and you tossed us right in.”

  Penny turned to him. “Why do you say that?”

  “Everywhere we go, folks try to take one of us, not both, or they talk about the orphanage.”

  “We don’t have an orphanage in Blessing. But I know we got some families that would take both of you in without any kind of argument. Where you from?”

  The younger boy peeped out of the corner of his eye to his brother.

  The boy sighed. “Way east. We hopped trains whenever we could. There’s no one to write to that cares beans about us. We’re on our own, and we’re gonna make it. You just watch.” Both tone and face grew fierce.

  “I’ll be glad to, but first we’ll find you a place to stay where there’s some clothes that will fit and plenty to eat.” She leaned closer to the little boy. “What’s your name?”