Clara used both hands to bring the cup to her mouth. She swallowed, looked at Ingeborg, and sipped again, this time with a nod.
“Would you rather have coffee?” A slight shake of her head.
“Fine, then here.” Freda passed the plate that held slices of bread and cheese.
Clara set her cup on the table and helped herself to one of each before passing the plate to Ingeborg.
Ingeborg tried to keep from smiling but failed—miserably. She felt like dancing around the room. Clara was sitting at her table, eating with obvious enjoyment, and drinking tea. Thank you, Lord God, worker of miracles.
Patches yipped and left the porch barking short, sharp barks.
Clara started to stand, frantically searching for a place to hide or run to—Ingeborg wasn’t sure which.
“Clara, listen to me.” She spoke firmly and clearly. “Patches is announcing the children coming home from school. That is his family bark. When someone he doesn’t know comes, you’ll hear the difference in his bark. Just sit here and finish your bread and cheese. Manny and Emmy will come through that door, and they will be so happy to see you at the table.” Slowly Clara sank back down, but when she reached for the bread, her hand was shaking so much she dropped it. Instead of reaching for it, she cowered back in her chair, her arms shielding her head.
Ingeborg and Freda stared at each other, Freda shaking her head.
“Clara, it is all right.” Ingeborg put her hand on Clara’s shoulder and kept it there. “We will just pick it up.” While Ingeborg crooned, Freda did just that.
They heard the children shouting good-byes and boots clumping up the steps.
Clara grabbed Ingeborg’s hand with both of hers, tears dripping off her jaw, and tried to disappear into the back of the chair.
Freda left them and stepped outside the door. Ingeborg could hear her admonishing the two to come in easy, Emmy first.
Ingeborg stroked Clara’s head with her other hand and kept on murmuring mother sounds. Lord, help her and give us wisdom to bring her into the light and love, both yours and ours.
Emmy tiptoed into the house and stared at Ingeborg, who nodded. “Now Clara, you have met Emmy before. She has helped you eat a couple of times.” She nodded to Emmy, who squatted down by the chair so Clara could see her. “Hello, Clara. I am glad to see you here at the table.”
Clara raised her chin and slowly nodded. Studying Emmy, she nodded again.
Emmy smiled, her dark eyes gentle, her voice soft. “This is good. You will like living here. Grandma takes good care of everybody.” She reached out and touched Clara’s hand, then stood and turned to Freda. “Manny is coming now, Clara. He will not hurt you.”
Freda ushered Manny in and closed the door behind him. He looked to Ingeborg for instructions, sadness in his eyes. When she nodded, he walked softly to the end of the table and stood there, his hands on the chair back.
“Clara, you’ve met Manasseh McCrary—Manny. When he came here, he had a badly broken leg and could only walk with crutches, but now he can walk well again.”
“I limp some, but I’m getting stronger all the time. Grandma helped make me get all better.” His soft Kentucky drawl and ready smile dared Clara to quit strangling Ingeborg’s hand and greet him.
Eyes like saucers, she looked up at Ingeborg, who nodded, and back to Manny, who smiled and nodded. Slowly she released the pressure on Ingeborg’s hand and slowed her breathing. Her nod was imperceptible but grew until her whole head moved. She looked from Emmy to Manny and back to Ingeborg.
O Lord, if only I knew what she was thinking, how to help her. Both Emmy and Manny are so good with the animals . . . will this be much different? A terrified girl or a terrified horse? As she watched, the other two pulled out their chairs and slid onto them, all the time reassuring Clara with smiles and nods.
“Would you like more tea, Clara?” Ingeborg asked. At the nod she refilled the cup. “Manny, Emmy, what would you like? Manny, yes I know, we have cookies for after the bread and cheese.”
“Manny likes cookies best of all,” Emmy said. “Someday maybe you and I can bake cookies. Do you know how?”
Clara nodded, again so slightly it would be easy to miss, but Emmy was watching carefully and sent her a sparkling smile. “Good. You just need to get better quick so we can do that.”
“So, Manny, how did your test go?” Ingeborg asked when they were all eating.
“I missed two.”
“Only two? On your spelling?”
“Yep. I got a hundred on my arithmetic.” He grinned at Ingeborg. “Mr. Devlin said I come a long way in a short time. He is helping me with reading. Today I read to the little kids.”
“He did really good too. Inga said so.” Emmy looked to Clara. “Can you read?”
Clara drooped, her head shaking.
“I couldn’t read either when I came, but I learned.” He grinned at Ingeborg. “Grandma even teached me to read in her Bible.”
“Taught,” Emmy said softly.
Manny rolled his eyes. “All right, taught. But I learnt it.”
Emmy giggled. Ingeborg and Freda chuckled. Manny grinned. And Clara? Was that twitching in her cheeks the beginning of a smile? She reached for the last bit of her bread and cheese and washed it down with more tea.
Ingeborg felt like shouting from the rooftops. There was hope after all.
When Emmy came back down from changing her clothes, she stopped at Clara’s chair. “Would you like me to help you back to your bed? You look pretty tired.”
Clara nodded and, grasping the table, steadied herself as she stood. Emmy took her hand and together they walked back into the parlor and over to the cot. Clara sat down and slid off her slippers, then almost fell into the bed. Emmy pulled up the covers that had been folded at the bottom and tucked them around Clara’s shoulders. “You sleep now, and then we’ll have supper.”
Ingeborg watched from the doorway. It made sense, really. Emmy was small and therefore not so threatening. Also, the two called her Grandma, and that seemed to be a relief. Did Clara know what grandma meant? Did she understand some English? Was it possible to teach her both English and sign at the same time? How old was Clara? When would the baby be due? Where had she come from and who had treated her so horribly? Other questions filled her mind. Right now the job was to get her strong enough to be up and around and helping to grow a healthy baby. Would that baby have a chance after not having enough food for so long?
But as she had learned, the growing baby always took what it needed before the rest of the mother’s body was nourished. Now it was up to them all to make up for this.
Time passed quickly, and it was finally evident that spring was there to stay. The mud dried back to the rich earth with seeds of all kinds bursting forth. A robin trilled his song one morning, announcing his return home. One morning Ingeborg brought Clara and Freda out on the porch to listen to the robin and watch him as he listened carefully, head cocked to the side, then drove his beak into the soil and came up with a curly fat worm. The worm disappeared in three gulps, and Ingeborg sighed in delight. Clara leaned her elbows on the porch rail and turned to look up toward another bird singing in the cottonwood tree that was just greening out, its leaves still only suggestions. Ingeborg followed her gaze.
“That’s a goldfinch. They are some of the first birds to return. Manny tells me that further south, they stay around all winter. Soon we’ll be hearing the meadowlarks heralding us from the fields.” She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. “I do so love the springtime.” She glanced over to see Clara doing what she had done. The horrible black circles were fading from around her eyes, and surely her cheeks had filled out a slight bit. She now walked without assistance, and every day her naps were shorter. Once Ingeborg showed her how to card the last of their wool, the slap and brush sounds of the carding paddles came from the back porch on fine days, and the parlor or kitchen on others. Two lessons on the spinning wheel, and she left off sewing on the m
achine in the evenings and spun the carded wool into yarn instead. She had walked out to the garden with Ingeborg, and when Manny brought his horse, Joker, to the house, Clara wore a real smile. When Joker nuzzled her cheek, she shot Manny the biggest grin, wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, and leaned into his chest.
“You’ll get all dirty,” Manny said.
Clara shrugged and reached up to rub Joker’s ears.
“He likes that. Wait till you see him when the carrots are ready. He’d run a country mile for carrots. Did you ever ride a horse?”
Clara nodded.
“In Norway?”
She nodded again.
“Clara, we got to get you signin’ so’s we can talk.” He glanced up at the sun. “I better put him out in the pasture. It’s about time to get to milkin’.” Taking up the reins, he swung aboard and waved down at her. “’Bye.”
She stepped back and waved too.
Ingeborg watched them from the porch, wishing she could have heard all of their conversation. Manny had no idea how much he had helped Clara already, mostly by being the gentle boy they had found under all that tough exterior he’d arrived with. And to see her delight in Joker. Clara had known horses in Norway, so she must have grown up on a farm. She knew her way around a kitchen, filling the woodbox, sweeping the floor, and washing the dishes, all jobs she had taken over.
Tonight they would start the sign-language learning.
After supper, when Emmy and Manny had finished their homework, the dishes were done, and Freda’s sourdough was rising for pancakes in the morning, they gathered by Ingeborg’s chair in the parlor. She pulled out a chart of the alphabet with the signs beside each letter. “This is what we will start with. Emmy, you form the signs when I say the letter. A.” Emmy formed the sign. “Now, Clara, you make the sign also. A.”
She handed Manny the book they were reading. “You read tonight while we work on the letters. We are on chapter thirty-nine.” So while Manny read, asking for help when he couldn’t figure out a word, the others worked on the letters. Freda sat next to the other lamp, mending socks with the wooden sock egg inside and her darning needle weaving a patch to fill in the hole.
When the telephone jangled, Ingeborg listened to make sure it was her ring, then went to answer it. “You all keep on as you are doing.” She couldn’t help but smile as she picked up the earpiece. “Hello.”
“Mor, I’m just calling to find out how Clara is doing.”
“Oh, Astrid, you won’t believe this is the same person. Manny is reading aloud and Emmy is teaching Clara to sign. She might not be able to talk now, but she can communicate somewhat, and with sign she will be able to be part of the world.”
“How is she doing with her terror of men?”
“She has accepted Manny, and now I think it is time she meet some of the men. I have asked John to come tomorrow and have dinner with us, since it is Saturday. Then I think either Lars or Trygve. She has watched them out the windows going back and forth to the barn, and yesterday Trygve came and dug out the straw stacked against the house. We’ll go spread it over the garden tomorrow. She is used to working; she is not used to kindness. But we are working on that.”
“Ah, Mor, I knew you would work miracles.”
“Never think it is me. Only our God works the miracles. We get the privilege of being His hands here. Think of all the wounded He has brought to us here in Blessing.”
“So true. Oh, by the way, have you heard from Anji and Rebecca?”
“No, what?”
“We’re going to have a housecleaning on Monday, as many women as can come. Some men would be helpful too, I am sure. We’re going to clean the Valders’ house from top to bottom and Anji and her family will live there.”
“What a wonderful idea. I will be there, and perhaps Freda too, but I think it is too soon for Clara.”
“Will we see you in church?”
“Ja, I will be there.”
“Good, I’ll talk to you then.”
Ingeborg hung the earpiece back on the prong and paused in the archway to listen to the babble.
“The end.” Manny closed the book. “I’m thirsty. How come readin’ aloud makes me want to drink a gallon?”
“Good for you, Clara.” Emmy looked up to see Ingeborg. “Come on, let’s show Grandma.”
Ingeborg nodded as Emmy showed off her pupil. “Well done.” She reached out and patted Clara’s shoulder, fully expecting the girl to withdraw. Instead, she tipped her head and laid her cheek against Ingeborg’s hand. Her eyes said all the thanks that Ingeborg could ever need.
CHAPTER 12
It doesn’t feel right being here without Hildegunn,” Anji said as she looked around inside the entryway.
“Not that we were ever invited when they lived here.” Ingeborg shook her head.
“Really?” Anji welcomed them into the kitchen. The house cleaners were starting to gather to scrub the Valders’ house from attic to cellar. “I know I was never invited, but I didn’t think that applied to everyone. As soon as everybody is here, I’ll let people choose where they want to work.”
“We should start by taking all the curtains down and hauling the rugs out to the clothesline to be beaten. Then, while the rugs are airing, we can wash and hang the curtains out.” Ingeborg frowned as she looked around.
Sophie arrived next. “All the children who aren’t old enough for school are invited to my house. Linnea says she will make them all dinner. I brought a hamburger and noodle hotdish.” She planted her hands on ample hips—the leftovers from birthing babies. “You know, this is the first time I’ve seen the inside of this house.”
Ingeborg smiled. “We were just commenting on that. Kaaren and I will start upstairs with the curtains. Thorliff said he’d have a crew here later to do the outside and carry out the rugs.” She looked around the kitchen. “Looks like the walls need scrubbing in here too. Is there a bathroom?”
“No, but a hand pump in the kitchen. The outhouse is out back by the garden. We should have hot water shortly. I started the boiler.” Anji pointed to the no-longer-shiny cast-iron stove. “I remember Mor polishing her stove. She was so proud of that stove with a big oven, a reservoir, and the warming shelf.”
“Ja, for those of us who had cooked over a fireplace, those stoves were our greatest treasures. They came in on the train even before Penny’s store.” Kaaren wore a half smile—remembering. “We didn’t have cookstoves until we built houses. There was no room in a soddy for such a big thing.”
“The first one came to the boardinghouse. Remember? We all went to admire it and dream of owning one too.” Ingeborg turned to greet Amelia Jeffers.
“Daniel said to tell you they’ll be right over, and he is bringing his machine class over to help too.” She glanced around the kitchen, up to the ceiling and the windows. “Well, it looks like we have our work cut out for us. Sophie, let’s you and I start on the kitchen. Several of the other women are coming too. Mrs. Sam will be sending over dinner so we can get done in one day. Anji, what will it feel like having your own home again?”
“You have no idea. I never dreamed I’d have one this big. I loved my house when I lived here, but the family house in Norway . . .” She shook her head. “Let’s just say I am glad to be home.”
As the women scattered to their stations, several others arrived and were set to other rooms.
In the parlor, Anji eyed the oak rolltop desk in the corner, collecting dust like everything else. Shaking her head, she returned to the kitchen and picked up the telephone earpiece. “Can you get Gerald Valders for me, please.” While waiting, she took the dustcloth from her pocket and dusted the top and down the sides of the wall-hung instrument. Had Hildegunn not cleaned in a long time, or could things really get this bad so soon? “Gerald, we are cleaning in the parlor. What do you want us to do with your father’s desk? Clean it out or leave it be?” She heard his sigh and knew he didn’t really want to even look in it. And yet as the elder of the tw
o sons, he should. So she suggested, “Would you like me to take everything out of it and put the papers all in a box for you to go through later?”
“Thank you. That would be ideal. Perhaps Toby and I can take an evening and get through it all.”
“How about I do the same with all we find?”
“Good. Toby said he’d be working on the outside. I would, but I need to fill in here today.”
Anji hooked the earpiece back on the prong. She should be the one to do this chore, much as she hated to. Returning to the parlor, where Kaaren was just handing the heavy drapes down to Ingeborg, she hurried over to assist. “Shouldn’t you let the younger women do the stepladder part?”
“Uff da. And take all the fun out of it?” Kaaren blinked and wrinkled her nose, then sneezed hard, another and a third, earning a Bless you for each. “If we do nothing more today than get all the dust out of here, we’ll have accomplished miracles.”
“I think we should beat these like we do the rugs.”
“Do I have to put them back up?” Anji asked. “They make it so dark in here.”
“Anji, this is your house now. You can do whatever you want. To tell you the truth, I hate to block any light out, although they do help keep the house warmer in the winter.”
“Fine. Let us wash them and hang the lace ones back up and pack the heavy ones away until winter.” Feeling like she had just made the first move to make this her house, Anji returned to the formidable desk. She tucked her fingers under the lip of the rolltop and lifted. “It’s locked. Where do you suppose Anner would have kept the key?”
“On his keychain.” Kaaren felt along under the flat front drawer. “Nothing.”
Anji got down on her hands and knees and inspected the underside of all the surfaces. “Nothing.” She felt under the bottom drawers and under the rolling chair.
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