“Stealing a lamb or calf is one thing, but challenging people, especially our children, means war. I need to get the chores done. I’m glad you and the little ones had so much fun fishing—before the dogs, of course. ’Bye, Mor.”
She hung the earpiece back on the prongs. Here she was, recently turned fifty years old, and she wanted to go hunting the pack of wild dogs. What was the matter with her?
She heard little Martin cry and hurried to the crib. Clara was out in the garden with Inga and Emmy.
As she leaned over to pick him up, she crooned, “Surely you are not hungry again already, baby boy. Oh, you are soaked. No wonder you woke up.” She held him away from her apron and laid him on the changing table they had set up in her bedroom. “Look at you, smiling and even trying to talk.” He gurgled and cooed at her, waving fists and feet. “O Lord, how I love having a baby in this house again. Thank you for this little fellow and his mor. We sure need your wisdom to discover how we can help her the best.”
She kissed one of the waving fists and, dry diaper and soaker in place, tucked him into his sling and returned to the porch, where she had been writing a long overdue letter to Manda and Baptiste. Talking with Deborah at the wedding had reminded her that she owed them a letter. Not that they had written for a long, long time either, but oh well.
She caught them up on the local news and then added one more paragraph:
Deborah really misses you. Is there any possibility that you could return for a visit? I know that is asking a lot, but she is not the only one to ask about you. You will be surprised at how much Blessing has grown, with new people and new buildings. Please write soon and tell us how you are.
With love,
Ingeborg
The baby stretched and gurgled. Patches, at her side, lifted his head and scrambled to his feet, his toenails clicking as he yipped and tore out to greet Manny, who was returning from working with Lars. Even with the special shoe Lars had made for him, he limped, but nothing like before.When Ingeborg thought of the sullen boy who had come to live with her after breaking his leg during an attempted bank robbery, she was overwhelmed with wonder at the bighearted young man Manny had grown into.
“You look a bit weary.”
He waved and nodded. “Fixing machinery takes lots of thinking, like when Haakan taught me farming things. Farming machinery is complicated.” He patted Patches, who was jumping at his side, and waved at Emmy and Inga, who hollered to him from the garden. He sank down on the steps and grinned at Ingeborg while fluffing Patches’ ears. “I see you’ve got Martin.”
Ingeborg patted the baby’s bottom. “He’s such a good baby. So, are you planning on going with them tonight?”
“I want to.” His jaw tightened. “If we don’t get ’em, they might get a child. Grandma, they coulda hurt all of you real bad or even killed somebody. If wild dogs pull you down, you’re in trouble, and they could pull down a child real easy.”
“Ja, but God kept us safe—with three fishes. Just like the story where Jesus fed the people with five loaves and three fishes. Only here He protected us with three fishes.”
Manny shook his head. “Too close.”
“Do you want something to drink?” She started to rise, but he waved her back.
“I’ll get it.” He stood and yelled. “You hardworking gardeners want lemonade and cookies?” At their chorus of yeses, he grinned at Ingeborg. “It is lemonade, isn’t it?”
“Made this morning.” Ever since Penny started carrying lemons at the store, she made lemonade, often mixing it with their own canned fruit or juices.
He stopped at the door. “Where’s Freda?”
“Up at the cheese house. She’ll be here soon. She mentioned she’s about out of shipping crates again.” The first shipment of the summer was nearly ready to send out, along with sharper cheddar that they had aged through the winter. Their customers were already clamoring for cheese, but they didn’t set much cheese until the cows could graze in the pastures. This year spring had come a bit early and without flooding the Red River, which meant the pastures greened up sooner. They already had ten calves out in the barn and calf pasture, to the delight of Emmy and Inga, who fed and played with them.
In the past, Inga had spent as much of the summer at the farm as her mother would allow. But since her mother, Elizabeth, had died of typhoid, Grandma’s farm became Inga’s summer home. Ingeborg let it go since Thorliff did not seem to mind.
Manny returned in a few minutes with full glasses for all and a large plate of molasses cookies. “Come and get it!” His shout brought on giggles and running girls.
As they all took their treats and found a place to sit, Ingeborg laughed along with them, loving every minute of their teasing. While Manny was growing into a fine young man, taller than Ingeborg now, he was still one of the kids when they got together.
“Come on, Freda, before the cookies are all gone,” he shouted at the woman who had just closed the door to the cheese house and was returning to the main house.
“You better save me one.”
Sober Freda could now take part in some of their antics. Another of the miracles Ingeborg recognized around her all the time. Would wonders never cease?
“Do you want me to take him?” Clara signed after swigging half a glass. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead with her apron.
“Clara, now you have dirt on your face,” Inga whispered loudly enough to be heard across the river.
She shrugged and waved her hand, turning back to Ingeborg.
“He’s going to be asking for you pretty soon, but right now you just sit there and catch your breath.” For a change Clara did as Ingeborg said and collapsed back against the cushion on the settee.
The sling Ingeborg wore started to wiggle and emit little squeaky noises.
Clara leaned forward to reach for her baby, but Ingeborg waved her back again. “You sit a couple more minutes; he won’t get wound up that quick.” She gently jiggled the sling and pushed to start the chair rocking. “Sweet, sweet baby, you could let your ma rest a few minutes at least.”
“May I have some bread and cheese or something before I go help with the milking? I’m really hungry.” Manny looked to Ingeborg, who half shrugged.
Freda stood up from the other cushioned chair. “I’ll get it for you.”
“I can do that.” Manny rose to his feet, but even so, Freda beat him to the door.
“I wouldn’t argue with her; even I never win.” Ingeborg sat back, rocking. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, as satisfying as rocking a little baby.
Inga frowned at Manny. “You ate five cookies.”
“How d’you know?”
“I counted them.” Inga stared at the empty plate. “I only got two and Emmy the same. Not fair, huh, Grandma?”
“If you are hinting for more cookies, it won’t work. Those were the last of them.” The bundle squeaks were growing more demanding.
Clara stood and reached for her baby, alternately shaking her head and grinning at Ingeborg. Ingeborg lifted the sling from around her neck and one arm and handed him to Clara.
“Since supper won’t be for an hour or more, I suggest we each have a piece of cheese, and the three of us can mix up a batch of cookies and get the stove heating. We’re having pork chops and rice with gravy, so Freda won’t need the oven.”
“Grandma, are they really going to shoot those wild dogs?”
“Ja, they are.”
“But why are they wild? Coyotes and wolves are wild, but dogs are tame and live with people.” Inga propped her elbows on her knees, sitting cross-legged on the porch floor.
“Who knows? People must have left them or they got lost. Then the females have puppies, and before long there is a whole pack, a dangerous pack, because they hunt together like wolves do.”
“They sure sounded mean.”
“Maybe because they’re so hungry,” Emmy added softly.
Later, after supper, with the sour cream cookies co
oling on the table, they watched the men gather down at the barn. Everyone carried a shotgun, Manny using one of Haakan’s. They headed out across the field, following the trail that had been worn through the years. They left Patches in a stall in the barn.
Fairly soon the mosquitoes drove the women and girls back indoors. After cookies and milk, Ingeborg read the next chapter in Little Women until the clatter of June bugs slamming against the screens reminded them it was getting late.
“Grandma, I don’t want the dogs to die.” Inga leaned against Ingeborg in her rocking chair.
“I know, but we have no choice. The men tried to find them several weeks ago and they had disappeared.”
“Well, they sure came back.”
At midnight, when Ingeborg got up to use the necessary, Manny’s boots were not back by the door. “Lord, please keep our men safe and do away with the danger.” Back in bed, she listened to the night sounds, the singing crickets, an owl hooting, the breeze lifting the lace curtains. One by one, she went down her family. Heal Thorliff’s heart from Elizabeth’s death. Then she thought of Deborah and her dreams, and prayed that Anji and her family were settling in well in Michigan.
A volley of shots woke her some time later, a howl cut off with another shot. Lord God, keep them safe. She knew too well how a load of buckshot could go astray. When the normal night sounds took over, she drifted back to sleep.
“So how did the hunt go?” she asked when everyone was gathered at the table for breakfast the next morning.
Manny reached for a second helping of eggs. “We were startin’ to think the dogs wouldn’t show up. We waited and waited, and even though we smeared comfrey all over us, them wretched mosquitoes wouldn’t leave us alone. So we finally put mud on too. Right about when we were starting to talk about giving up, here they come. Seven of them. They were right suspicious, but then the big gray one grabbed a dead pig, and we opened fire. One almost got away, but Andrew saw it and shot real fast. We made sure they were all dead and left the pig and the carcasses for the coyotes. It was already getting light in the east by the time I washed up and went up to bed.” He stretched his eyes wide open. “Not that that little bitty sleep helped a whole lot.”
“What if there are some dogs that didn’t come along?” Inga asked.
“One of the females was nursing pups,” Manny said around a huge yawn. “But far as we know, we got them all.”
“What about the puppies?” Inga asked.
“Depends on how big they are,” Ingeborg said, “but most likely they’ll starve to death. Or the coyotes will get them.”
Inga and Emmy stared at each other, eyes and mouths wide. Clara looked alarmed too.
“And don’t you go getting any ideas of finding ’em either,” Manny said, wagging his finger at them. “We’d just have to shoot them too. They’re wild.” He shoved the last of his biscuit in his mouth. “I’ll build more crates later today, Freda. Lars said we’re about done over there. You girls wanna go ride Joker? He needs some attention, like a good curry to get the last of his winter coat off. He needs to be ridden, you know. He’s getting fat and lazy out in that pasture.”
The girls grinned at each other. “That means we can both ride.” They looked to Ingeborg. “Grandma, you used to ride. You could ride too.”
Ingeborg stared at the girls. All of a sudden she thought riding sounded like the best idea in the world. How she used to ride the plains, hunting for herbs and other wild plants she could use for medicines.
“Please, Grandma, please come.” Emmy moved to one side of her and Inga to the other. “We’ve never gone on a real ride.”
Why not? She could saddle Jack the mule. He was retired from heavy farmwork a few years ago, and he’d been ridden since then, just not often. He’d always been a gentle animal, unless something attacked the sheep, and then he went into fiery attack mode. He was better than a guard dog for some things. Funny, but she’d not remembered those things for years. Lord, you have given me so many memories of both good and bad things. I don’t mind forgetting the bad, but I do so want to remember the good. Was it wise to even consider saddling Jack? He and Joker would both come up to the fence for grain or other treats. The girls snuck them cookies, thinking she didn’t know it.
“All right. This is the situation. We have chores that need to be done first.” She emphasized the first. “While you are doing your chores, I am going to get the bread dough going, and Clara can knead it when it is time.”
“Bake it too” Clara signed.
“I don’t plan on being gone all day, you know.”
“So what do we have to do?” Ever-practical Emmy started gathering up the breakfast things.
“Wash the dishes, sweep the porch, make sure all the beds are made, fill the woodbox and . . . oh yes, did you already feed the chickens?” They both nodded. “Then let’s get moving.”
“I will wash the lamps” Clara signed, “after the dishes are done.”
“Takk. We need to be thinking about Sunday dinner too. Ellie said she wanted to have it at her house for a change. So tomorrow we’d better bake pies.”
Later, Ingeborg was kneading bread dough when Patches announced that someone was coming. He had a special bark for family, and this wasn’t it.
“Yoohoo, anyone home?”
Ingeborg headed for the door with a welcoming smile. “Sophie, what are you doing clear out here?”
“I’m on my way to see Mor. Do you want to come with and we can have coffee together?”
Ingeborg could feel two pairs of eyes drilling into her back. She heaved a sigh. “I would love to, but I promised the girls we would go riding.”
“As on horseback?”
“They’ll ride Joker and I’ll saddle up Jack the mule.”
“Well, my lands, but that sounds like fun.”
“You can come sit a minute or so while I finish kneading the bread dough, can’t you?”
“Tell you what. You go riding; I’ll go visit with Mor and stop here on my way back to town. As warm as it is getting, I should have brought the buggy.”
“I can hitch Jack up to the buggy when we get back.”
“We shall see.”
Inga joined them. “Garth and the others could come out and play with the calves in the barn. We’re supposed to sweep the haymow before haying starts.”
“Yes, they could,” Sophie said, “but not until later this week. Garth went with Benny out to the Baard farm to stay a couple of days. See you later.” With a wave, Sophie walked back to the gate and waved again.
Ingeborg watched her go, mulling over this surprise. Sophie out walking to her mor’s instead of taking the buggy. She always said she was too busy for coffee during the day. Something was up, but what?
Chapter 6
We’ll get the horses ready,” Inga yelled back as she and Emmy leaped off the porch and headed for the barn.
“They can lift the saddles that high?” Freda asked.
“Good point.” Ingeborg set the bread dough in the sunshine to rise. She put a few cookies in a tin for the ride and another cookie in her pocket. “Where’s Clara?”
“Out on the porch, nursing himself.”
Ingeborg chuckled. “He is getting rather demanding, isn’t he?” At nine months old, Martin was a wonderfully happy baby, except when he got hungry. And he went from being sound asleep to starving in about three wiggles and a whimper. “What are we having for supper?” she asked as she clapped the lid onto the cookie jar.
“You know that crabby hen that thinks she should set all the time without laying her own eggs?”
“Ja, she pecked Inga a good one the other day.”
“Let’s just say she won’t be pecking anyone else.”
Ingeborg smiled. “When did you have time to butcher her?”
“I woke up early, so I got that out of the way first thing. She’s cooling out in the well house. That batch of chicks looks about old enough to let loose with the rest of the flock, and the barred Rock
is acting broody.”
“Let her set. We need some fryers.”
“Have you heard anything from Anji?” Freda asked as she helped herself to a cookie.
“Other than the card that said they got to Michigan, no.” Ingeborg glanced out the front window to see how the girls were doing with the horses. “I’d best go help them saddle up.”
“You might take the rifle along.”
“Really? Why? They got the dogs.”
Freda shrugged. “Just a hunch. You know, better safe than sorry.”
“You know something we’ve not had for a long time?”
Freda almost smiled. “Rabbit. I’ll ask Manny to go set some snares. Right around the garden would be a good idea.”
With the cookies and a jug of water in a cloth bag, along with a small basket for berries if they found any ripe ones, Ingeborg clapped a straw hat onto her head and strolled down to the corral fence. “’Bout ready to saddle up?”
“Almost.” Inga tossed her brush and curry comb in the bucket. “Talk about dirty.”
“They look good now.” Ingeborg took the cookie from her pocket and broke it in half for each of the animals. Jack nodded as he munched, big ears flopping, then nosed her pocket for more. She set her supplies down on the ground and slid through the barred gate to lift the saddles in place and let the girls tighten the cinches. “Watch out for Jack, he likes to suck in a belly full.”
She pulled the fence bars back and the girls walked the horses through.
“Britches would make this easier,” Inga muttered as she fought to get her foot high enough for the stirrup. Ingeborg gave her a boost, and when she was settled on Joker, did the same for Emmy.
She handed up the bag and the basket and mounted Jack, letting out an oof as she settled into the saddle. Maybe a mounting block should be on the list of things needing doing. “Good thing you stood still, old boy,” she said, patting his neck. “I thought we’d head west and then angle up to the Little Salt. There used to be plenty of strawberries out that way. We can see if any of them are ripe yet.”
Inga nudged Joker into a walk, then looked over her shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”
From This Day Forward Page 5