Ingeborg came in. “Think like Anner.” She tried to see behind it. Between the three of them, they pulled the desk away from the wall. “About anything could be buried in the dust and cobwebs.”
Kaaren returned with a broom and swept both the back of the desk and the wall. A dull clunk caught their attention, and Anji dropped to her knees, fingers sifting through the mess on the floor. “Here!” She polished the key on her apron, then held it up, all the while getting to her feet again. We did it, ha! Now, why did she feel she was outsmarting Anner Valders? After all, he had run the bank.
She slid the key into the lock and turned. A click and the spring to the rolltop released. At the same time, all the drawers could now be opened too.
“I’ll go find you a box. Any idea where that might be?” Kaaren and Ingeborg bundled up the curtains and headed for the kitchen.
Amelia pointed out the back door. “They are washing curtains on the porch. Two young men are beating rugs on the clothesline, and Thorliff said to tell you Astrid is sending over two of the nursing students, and Thelma is sending coffee and cookies with them. She figures we must be due for some food by now.”
Anji giggled. “Thelma always thinks someone is running out of food.”
Mary Martha Solberg, with a basket hooked over her arm, a broom and mop over her shoulder, hustled up the steps. “Sorry I am late. Where do you want me?”
“Set your basket on the table with the others and join Anji in the parlor. I imagine we ought to clean the ashes out of that stove too.”
When the telephone rang the Valders’ rings, Ingeborg answered, since she was closest. “Oh, Thelma, of course. Ja, we have a coffeepot on the stove and . . .” She glanced out the window. “Looks like the men started a fire, and there’s a pot of water heating on that too. Bring another broom if you can. And stove black. We need stove polish. Ja, I think everyone is ready for coffee.” She hung up, shaking her head. “She’s bringing cinnamon buns too. Uff da. We suffer so when we get together.”
“No one can work on an empty stomach. That is Thelma’s motto, you know that.”
“Call everyone in,” Thelma said a bit later after she spread the buns and cookies out on the rewashed table. “Glad I didn’t get here earlier. Good thing we have so many hands helping. This place is a mess!”
When Ingeborg and Kaaren rolled their eyes, Anji glanced at them and started to giggle. The giggle ran around the room, leaping over chuckles and landing as full-blown laughter. “A mess!” someone else said. “A terrible mess.”
“What’s so funny?” Thorliff asked as he came in the door. That made people laugh even more.
“I bet this is the most laughter this house has heard in all its life,” Sophie said.
“And that is downright sad,” Kaaren said. “Anji, dear, we are blessing your house with laughter, and I pray these walls will ring with joy and laughter the rest of the years.”
In a short time, everyone returned to their work, and the house seemed to come alive as they stripped away the accumulation of dust, cobwebs, and spider and rodent droppings. By the end of the day the windows sparkled, the floors shone with wax, the woodwork had been washed and waxed, and soon the beds were made with clean sheets and blankets, rugs returned to the floors, and curtains rehung. What a huge task—done! The outside of the house glowed too, after a fashion, with the repairs and sweeping. They threw their dirty water on the fire outside and tipped over the tubs to drain dry.
“This house needs a blessing,” Thomas Devlin announced. He and Reverend Solberg and some others had come to help after they were done with work.
Solberg nodded. “I agree. I’ll go get my Bible.” He paused and looked to Anji. “Unless you’d rather wait until Sunday after church, and we’ll all come over?”
“No, thank you. Let’s do it now. Drive away any ghosts or . . .” She shivered just a bit. “This is a cold house. Don’t you feel it?”
“I’ll be right back.”
Devlin dug down in the woodbox. “A good fire will help.”
Anji went to stand by Ingeborg, her hands cupped around her elbows. “I know this is a strange thought, but Ingeborg, I feel this house needs something.”
“Besides love and laughter?”
Anji nodded. “And light?”
“And singing. I don’t imagine there has ever been much singing here. Say, will you answer a question I’ve been wondering about? I thought Toby lived here.”
“Yes, Toby slept here. Maybe he made coffee, but I think he had most of his meals at the boardinghouse. Or with Gerald and Rebecca. We fed him a lot.” Anji paused. “I should ask him.” She shook her head. “No, like Mor used to say, ‘Better to let sleeping dogs lie.’ But his plan now is to live at the boardinghouse while he finishes his house.” She removed a shiny clean chimney off the kerosene lamp and, borrowing a tinder stick from the stove, lit the lamp and set back the chimney. “There now, that helps.”
“Do ye want me to start the parlor stove burning too?” Thomas Devlin asked. “Get the heat going up to the bedrooms?”
“Thank you. That would be nice. We’re having supper at Rebecca’s.”
“I think we need to give you a housewarming.” Ingeborg and Kaaren nodded at the same time. “All food things. The cellar is empty, and there’s not much in the cupboards either. No wonder Toby never cooked here.”
Reverend Solberg came in through the back door. “Gather everyone who’s still here together.” As the room filled he raised his hands. “Let us sing together, ‘There Shall Be Showers of Blessing.’”
“‘There shall be showers of blessing; this is the promise of love.’” As she sang, Anji looked around at her friends, relatives, and neighbors, all their voices raised in the hymn. Kaaren took one of her hands and Ingeborg the other. When they finished the song, Reverend Solberg said, “Let us pray.” When the rustling ceased, his calm voice spread peace among them all. “Lord God, creator of our universe, of our land, of this home, of each of us, we thank you for all the myriad blessings you so freely pour out upon us, our homes, our families, our friends, and neighbors. Father, this house is yours, this family is yours, and you have brought them back to Blessing to be part of us all. Remove from this place all animosity, all strife, all hard and hurt feelings. Take away the dark and fill it with your most glorious light. Bring joy, peace, contentment, and above all, love to reign here today, tomorrow, and always. You, O Lord, are head of this family. Keep them safe and secure in the shadow of your mighty wings. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”
Kaaren started the next song. “‘Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love. . . .’” By three notes into it, the others had joined in and followed Reverend Solberg into the parlor. At the end of the verse, he lifted his arms again.
“Lord, bring love and laughter into this room. May all who come into this house be blessed by the love here, the gifts of your Holy Ghost. Let sun flood this room and every other room in this house, that the darkness may be driven away and light remain and grow anew. That everyone always feels welcome here, that children play and study, that your purpose and plan for this house, this family, may come to pass. In your holy name, amen.”
Kaaren started verse two. “Before our Father’s throne . . .”
Back in the kitchen, Reverend Solberg announced, “Let us close in the way Jesus taught us to pray. ‘Our Father . . .’”
At the amen, a silence, this one warm and comforting, settled around them all.
“Thank you, Reverend Solberg. That was perfect.” Anji could feel tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. She sniffed and felt a warm presence close behind her. Thomas Devlin, adding his own comfort. Yes. To her amazement she could feel his presence. “Thank you, everyone, for all the work you have done here. This is so far beyond what I could have dreamed. In fact, I dreaded cleaning this place, but now . . .” She looked up at the ceiling, at the shiny cupboards, the gleaming stove. “This is a home, our home. Thank you.”
She hugged and thanked everyo
ne as they picked up their tools and buckets and headed for home. Now it was only she, Thomas, and Toby.
“We’ll be back to dig up your garden later,” Toby said, then leaned closer. “This house has never felt this good. Bless you, sister.”
“Toby, I shouldn’t ask, but why was it in such a state? I would think Hildegunn was a good housekeeper.”
He pressed his lips together for a moment. “For months after Far went away, Mor did nothing but sit up in her room and write letters. She even put ads in newspapers. The letters always came back marked Addressee unknown. She eventually quit trying. When she went out into public, she was the usual Hildegunn. Here in the house she sat with her drapes closed. I offered many times to clean the place up, but she’d say, ‘No, no, don’t. I’ll get to it.’” He shrugged. “So I didn’t. It was her house, after all.”
“Oh, Toby, that is so sad.”
“She was a miserably unhappy woman. I can only hope and pray that since Far came back and got her, she is happier now.” Then he took her hand. “Come on. Rebecca has supper ready, and then we’ll bring your clothes over.”
“Right. Tomorrow we will really move in.” Stepping out on the back porch, she looked to the west and caught her breath. “Oh, look at the sunset.” Banners of every shade from lemon to crimson, fiery pink to purple, blazed across the sky. Even the clouds to the east were tinted in shades of pink-trimmed light gray. Anji felt her smile widen. The glorious sunset truly blessed the house cleaning, her new home. All these people—family, friends, and all around good folk. Yes, returning to Blessing had been a wise move, even if her mother-in-law was still upset with her. And that was stating it mildly.
Toby tugged on her hand. “Come on. I don’t want Rebecca mad at me when, for a change, it’s not my fault. Thomas, grab her other hand and let’s go.”
“You are coming too?” Anji asked Thomas.
“Yes, I was invited.”
“Good.” She jumped the bottom step. “Oh, did anyone bank that fire?”
“Not me. Don’t worry, we can start it again. And it’s not so cold tonight. Spring might really be here to stay.” Toby waved to Gilbert, who was standing on the back steps of Rebecca’s house, and yelled, “We’re coming. Your mother was dawdling.”
“I couldn’t just run off and leave all those people without a thank-you, now could I?” Somehow her hands were still clasped in the men’s. She felt like a little girl running off to play with her friends. The house was clean, even the beds all made. Now to move their belongings over and make it their home. Oh, Ivar, how you would enjoy this. He had loved living in Blessing too. The way he had decided to move back to Norway, perhaps he had an idea he was not going to get well again. He’d never mentioned that, but he always wanted to please both his mother and his wife. And himself.
“I think we need to have a housewarming,” Rebecca said later when supper was finished and the adults were sitting around the table, enjoying a last cup of coffee.
Gerald frowned. “But why? The house has all the furniture it needs, plus bedding and kitchen things.”
“All but food,” Toby said.
Anji nodded. “That’s what Kaaren said too. You’d better talk with her. I’ve already started a list to give to Penny. She said since she couldn’t come today, she wanted to give me some staples.”
Gerald smiled. “Leave it to Penny. Did you really get it all done?”
“No. I never got back to the rolltop desk, and there are some drawers in the kitchen that still need to be sorted. And the cellar. But that will be easy to clean. There is nothing down there but empty canning jars and odd stuff. I don’t think the attic was swept either. They did kill a couple of mice, though. As soon as I can get some traps, I’ll set them.”
“We have some you can have. What you need is a good mouser cat.”
“Won’t Lissa be thrilled with that! She’s always wanted a cat.” But her grandmother Moen didn’t like dirty animals in the house.
“I’ll find you one,” Toby said, picking up the last of the crumbs of the cake with the tines of his fork. “Rebecca, what about you? Should I find two?”
“You might ask at the farms round about. They always have batches of kittens in the barns.”
She and the children would sleep in their new house tonight, a strange house, but tomorrow they would bring over all their belongings and make it theirs. It would not be strange for long.
Later, when her children were tucked into their new beds, Anji readied herself, washing her face at the bowl behind the screen. She’d carried up the warm water and hummed while she slid her nightdress over her head. She blew out the kerosene lamp and climbed into bed, the sheets fragrant with fresh air. The quilt had been aired too. As she lay back against the down pillows, the dust beaten out of them too, she gave a sigh of delight. “Lord, thank you for this lovely clean house. Please drive the sadness away and fill our house with love. Thank you—” She stopped. Was that footsteps she heard?
“Ma?” A voice quivered, and a little body threw itself onto the bed, quickly followed by two more. Lissa paused in the doorway.
“The little ones are scared.” Her voice shook just the littlest bit.
“Come on in. This bed is big enough for us all, at least for tonight.”
“The house is . . . is noisy.” Joseph snuggled into her side.
Gilbert lifted the covers and scooted under them.
Anji made sure everyone had covers, then laid back down herself. “Now, no kicking, you hear? Or you’ll be back in your own bed before you know it.”
Within moments the three younger children were breathing softly. She reached across Joseph and took Gilbert’s hand. “’Night, Gilly.” She’d not used that old nickname for years. Funny how it had slipped out. Lord, bless us all and good night.
CHAPTER 13
Sometimes spring creeps in, hesitant like a shy kitten. Other years spring throws open the doors and blows the trumpets, heralding her arrival. This year started out like the first, the fierce growl of winter sending the kitten back into hiding. But once spring pounced back again, she stayed. The mud finally dried up, the river that threatened to flood slid back into its banks, and the migrating waterfowl filled the sky with the wild free song of honking geese and calling ducks. The meadowlarks sang their way back north and the chickadees of winter headed to their summer home.
“Can you hear them all?” Ingeborg asked as she, with Freda and Clara, raked the newly tilled and disked garden to ready it for planting. The potatoes would go in first, a good part of the garden—Ingeborg had insisted they plant half an acre into potatoes. Today they would also plant lettuce, peas, and a few other early crops. The remaining space would go to corn, to be planted as soon as the threat of frost had abated.
“You mean the birds?”
“Ja. How I would love to go hunt geese again.”
“Better not to.” Freda attacked a clump of black dirt that had dried rock hard. “I think Manny and Trygve will be going tonight.”
“We need an abundance of goose down. One can never have enough for feather beds and pillows.”
“Smoked goose never goes to waste.” It seemed that Freda almost smiled.
Clara wielded a hoe and rake with some enthusiasm, often raising her face to the sky, as if desperate for the warmth. Although she still tired easily, she was learning to sign and to write letters on a slate, as if starved for the knowledge. She would point to something, such as the twine wrapped around a stick that they used to mark the rows in the garden. She carried a small slate in a big pocket that Ingeborg had sewed onto her apron. Ingeborg would identify the object in English, sign it for her, and write it on her slate. The many times a day she did thusly slowed her down considerably, but seeing smiles come to Clara’s face made all the delays well worthwhile.
Ingeborg’s sewing machine had become Clara’s best friend. In the evenings when the children were doing their homework and Ingeborg was reading aloud, Clara sewed quilt blocks together, a
ll straight seams so that when the quilters got together, they would have more tops to back and tie.
“Did you ever have a sewing machine before?”
Clara shook her head and pantomimed hand sewing with needle and thread. She had caught up on the household’s mending too, since that was something she could do while still recovering.
Easter was well behind them, and now they found themselves nearly to mid-May. Spring was passing so quickly! Ingeborg nearly wore out a fingernail brush. You cannot knead bread with grit under your fingernails! But most of the planting, and most of the bread, happened anyway.
The Friday sunrise caught her breath. Sunrises and sunsets, God sandwiching her days between glorious color and infinite moments of peace. Coffee cup in her hands, Ingeborg leaned against the turned post on the porch and watched the world blend from one color to another. As the beauty faded, she looked toward the corral where the sheep were bleating to be released to pasture. They’d lined up at the gate where Manny let them out to get a drink and graze their way out to pasture. They had fifteen lambs, as four ewes had twins this year. Last year’s crop was mostly ewe lambs, and they had butchered all the males in the fall. By next fall she would need to borrow a different ram so that there would be no inbreeding. As Haakan had warned her, raising sheep was more than seeing the lambs leaping and playing in the pasture. Manny had stepped into the life of sheepherder, along with making the crates to ship cheese and anything else he was asked to do or could see that needed doing.
And to think Anner Valders had wanted him jailed along with his brothers. That led her to thoughts of Hildegunn. Where were they and how were they? Lord, you know you promise to keep your eyes on the sparrows, so I know you are watching over them. Please bring Anner to his senses and back into closeness with you. As John said, “Power corrupts” and we gave him that power. Please protect Hildegunn. She sipped her coffee. Now, where had that idea come from?
Down at the barn, the men were loading the wagon to truck the milk cans up to the springhouse to be run through the separator, and there the cream and milk would cool. They needed to churn butter today, so the older cream would come up to the house. With this milking there should be enough cream to start the first batch of cheese. Freda would be pleased.
Streams of Mercy Page 12