He stopped at the Knutson house to put Trygve in charge of the barn construction, then headed for the office. It felt and smelled like the rain would return. It had watered the gardens well during the night. That should set another burst of weed growth.
Someone else was already there; he could hear voices from the construction office that had taken over the back of the newspaper building. From the fragrance of cinnamon, he knew Thelma had been up early baking. He pulled open the screen door and stepped into the construction world.
Coffee cup in hand, Jonathan Gould stood to greet him. “Good to see you.”
“Good to have you home again. I, uh, I hope all went well.”
“Thank you. As well as could be expected. You know me and high society. I did my one appearance at the official memorial service; we had a private family one as well, for which I was very grateful.”
“How is your father?”
“Better than I feared he might be. He’ll be out here in about two weeks, I think.”
“Really?”
“He wants to be part of the deaf school addition, not just financing from a distance.” Jonathan shook his head. “To say I was surprised . . .” He shrugged. “But then I well know the draw that Blessing is.”
Daniel Jeffers had arrived while they were talking. “That does change things, doesn’t it? Welcome home.” He glanced around. “Where’s Hjelmer?”
“Should be here any minute. Kaaren and Lars might be a bit late.” Thorliff had the school plans weighted down on the table. “Get your coffee and rolls, and let’s begin with you, Jonathan.”
Jonathan pulled some papers from a leather case, glancing up when Hjelmer let the door slam behind him.
“I’ll need to go open the bank, but I’ll come right back if we have more to do.” Hjelmer set his briefcase on the table. “Thank God for Thelma.” He took a bite of a cinnamon roll and filled his coffee cup. Sitting down, he stared at Thorliff. “You couldn’t look any worse if you tried. Ever thought of sleeping?”
Toby watched the exchange. He saw Thorliff’s jaw tighten as he straightened his shoulders, almost said something, and took a swig of coffee instead. He heard a Whoa from outside. “Lars and Kaaren are here.”
After the greetings and with everyone finally seated around the table, Thorliff said, “Jonathan.”
After standing and smiling at each of them, Jonathan began. “I brought back several things. The financial papers from my father, including a surprise.” He picked up another paper. “This is an added bequest from my mother’s estate. She wanted to make sure there would be operating money for the deaf school, so this will be a yearly sum for at least the next five years. I brought you a copy, Kaaren. I had no idea she had done this.”
“Your mother had a big heart for the causes she undertook. I understand from Grace that she helped the deaf school in New York where Grace used to work.”
“In spite of her love of society events, my mother took her philanthropy very seriously.”
Kaaren read the paper and her mouth fell open. “Are you sure, Jonathan?”
“I am. I know you will use it wisely, and my father reiterated the same thing.” He turned back to his case and passed copies of the proposed budget to each of them. “If you have any questions, these are the numbers we had agreed on and how the funding will be managed. Hjelmer, the funds will be flowing through the Blessing Bank, so that should assist your liquidity too.”
When Jonathan sat down, Thorliff took over. “Let’s move on to construction, then. Toby, you will be in charge of the actual construction, under me, with Joshua Landsverk and Trygve reporting to you. Deming’s house should be ready for the final interior. Mr. Belin is running the finishing crew of three. Once the barn is roofed and finished, all crews will move to the deaf school construction site. Since the grading is done, we’ll lay out today and tomorrow and start on forms next week.” He looked around the table. “Questions, comments?”
While Toby had known he’d be in charge of crews, the added responsibility made him swallow. He watched Thorliff’s face for any trace of doubt. “When will the lumber for the forms get here?”
“On the train today. It was supposed to have been here yesterday. I checked this morning. We’re getting a full flat car load. It was coupled onto the train last night.”
Sometime later, after more discussions and Hjelmer returning from opening the bank, Thorliff looked around the table. “Anything else?” By now the coffee pot was empty and the rolls eaten.
“Sorry—I have an application for a schoolteacher.” Jonathan handed Hjelmer the paper. “My father thought this might be a good fit. My cousin, Anton, after his fiancée died of tuberculosis, decided he needed a change from where he was, and my father told him to apply here. He has taught mathematics, sciences, and both Latin and Greek, not that Greek was listed. My father said he is an excellent teacher.”
“And he wants to come west why?” Hjelmer asked with one raised eyebrow. “And does he understand how little we pay?”
“I might have an idea.” Toby surprised himself by not giving this more thought before mentioning it. “I have a big house.”
“We can work on the teacher topic later.” Thorliff stood up. “Let’s get the construction rolling.”
Lars and Kaaren stood too. Kaaren smiled at them all. “Whoever dreamed when I learned sign language to help Grace communicate that we would come to this? Thank you all for taking what I was fearful of dreaming and growing this school into not only what it is today but what it will become. God is most certainly using you to take care of the ‘least of these,’ as the Bible says. I know you are looking at this as a business, but we go so much farther than that. ‘Thank you’ seems so insignificant, but I have nothing else to give you. Except changed lives.”
Thorliff nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Toby left with the others. His latest task was to drive the wagonload of new shingles just unloaded from the train out to the barn. Grateful for no rain, he picked up the wagon at the station and stopped at the hospital. When he pushed open the door, Deborah was standing behind the front desk.
“Toby, is someone hurt?”
“Good morning to you too.” He stopped in front of her, cleared his throat, and dropped his voice. “Ah, if you have nothing else tomorrow night, Rebecca has invited us for supper.” His words came out in a hurry.
“Really?” She shrugged. “Well I . . . I guess I could. I’m on day shift all week. If there are no emergencies.” She shrugged. “Fine. I . . . Yes.”
“Good.” He turned and headed for the door.
There, he’d done what Rebecca had said he should do, and it wasn’t as painful as he’d thought it would be. He smiled at the memory of Deborah’s face. She’d looked a bit surprised, hadn’t she? Or was it a whole lot surprised?
Chapter 12
Is something wrong?” Astrid asked.
“Uh, no, I . . .” Deborah shook her head. “I . . . I think I’m in a state of shock.”
“Wasn’t someone just here?” Astrid glanced around the hospital entry.
“Toby.” Deborah’s voice squeaked. She cleared her throat and drew in some air, trying to regain her normal adult voice. “He asked me to, um, he said . . . Toby Valders just asked me to go to Rebecca and Gerald’s house for supper tomorrow.” She turned to Astrid. “He really did . . . I mean . . .” She paused. “Astrid, he’s never asked me to anything before. Rebecca is matchmaking, right? You know, the girl party?”
“Of course.” Astrid leaned in. “She might have suggested it, but she didn’t drag him in here to ask.”
Deborah exhaled in a sigh. “You’re right.” She nodded as she spoke, trying to convince herself as much as Astrid. “He asked. He came here to where I work to ask me to supper.” She blew out another breath. “I will just accept this and not look a gift horse in the mouth.” She peeped at Astrid from under her eyelids. “Right?”
“That’s right. And you will not work late tomorrow. Good
heavens, it just occurred to me that the Fourth is already this Saturday. I sure hope the rains blow on past by then.”
They both turned at the sound of giggles coming from the dining room. “They came again today, bless those two little girls.” Deborah shared a smile with Astrid. “Mrs. Chikachev got a break again, and her Sergei can talk. The girls even taught him some English words. Inga says he wins almost every game of checkers.” Her eyebrows wiggled and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you think they let him win?”
“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Astrid headed for her office. “If anyone calls, I am neck-deep in paper work.”
“Right.” And if you think I’m going to call you for anything other than someone broken or bleeding . . . She knew Astrid, loved her more like a sister than a friend, and no matter how hard Astrid tried to cover it up, she could tell their doctor was carrying a heavy load again. And her falling-out with Thorliff had to be the cause. Deborah shook her head. Who would he listen to? How could they help him if he didn’t want to be helped? Stubborn didn’t begin to describe that Bjorklund specialty, even though it was a major family trait.
The question for her was, how could she help?
That night after supper at home, Deborah made a decision. Who better to talk to than her pa?
John Solberg smiled at his eldest daughter. “Of course, come on, let’s go in my office.” When they were seated in the sewing room that was jokingly called the office, used thusly as needed, he leaned toward her, elbows on his knees. “I heard you have been invited to Rebecca’s house for supper Friday night.”
“That is rather big news, I know.” She could feel her smile trembling. “I’m not sure how you heard, but that actually isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t know how to help Astrid and Thorliff. Their big blow-up is breaking her heart. I can see it in her eyes no matter how she tries to hide it. Apparently they’ve never had a falling-out like this before.”
John nodded and sighed at the same time. “I know this sounds trite, but it isn’t. Only Jesus and the Holy Spirit can handle this. Until Thorliff is willing to let go of his anger and grief, praying is what we do. He has to be willing, even a crack.”
“Sometimes I wish God wasn’t so polite. I mean, I’m not blaming Him, or . . .” She shook her head in frustration. “I mean, I wish He’d yell at Thorliff.”
John covered her hands with his own, almost stifling a chuckle. “I know you’re not being facetious, and I so often have asked our Father to hit me with His two-by-four when I am being stubborn or not getting it. We will all pray that He speaks in a way that gets through to our beloved, stubborn Thorliff. We plead God’s protection over that house for both the children and Thelma. Little Roald is acting the only way he knows how. Thelma is ma to him.”
“You think Thorliff will take this out on Thelma?”
“Not intentionally. He is wiser than that. He knows he could not get along without Thelma, but this will only make her work harder with that little one.” He paused, obviously contemplating the situation. “We will pray now and we will all join in these specific prayers, mostly that God will indeed have His way.” He patted her hand. “Polite not withstanding. He will find a way or many ways to get around our stubborn friend. Do you believe He can do that?”
Deborah stared into her pa’s eyes. “I know He can. I believe, like you have taught me, that God has a plan and will do what is necessary, but . . .” She stared at her lap.
With a loving hand, he tipped up her chin. “But . . . We all get hung up on that little word. But when will He? Right?”
“I . . . I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” The picture in her mind was of Astrid, then Thelma and the children.
“That’s why we pray protection for them all. God has given us all a chance to grow in our trust of Him.” He shook his head, a barely perceptible movement. “We have our work cut out for us. But we will trust Him, our loving Father. Lord God, we trust you.”
Deborah let the tears flow. “I want to.”
John gathered her into his arms. “Holy Father, we serve you and you only, but right now . . .” He heaved a sigh. “This hurts. Thank you, that you are here with your mighty arms around all of us. You are the only way we can turn. You bring us comfort and you have promised us peace. That we can rest in your assurances, your promises to never leave nor forsake us.” His voice gained that peace. “And you love your daughter Deborah and have given her a tender heart for loving her friends and family. You know far better than we what this will take. Lord, you love Thorliff beyond what we can imagine, as you do all of us. We rest in that assurance, in your peace. Please remind us to be constant in prayer and to keep our mouths shut unless you give us the words to say. In your holy and mighty name, we offer praise and thanks. You, O Lord. Mighty God and healer of all broken hearts that turn to you. Thy will be done.” He hugged Deborah. And they said together, “Amen.”
He hugged her again, blew out a breath, and sat back. “This is in His hands. Our job is to trust.”
Deborah melted against the chair back. “I am a boiled noodle.”
“Me too.”
Deborah watched him flex his shoulders and hands. “You’ll talk with Astrid and Ingeborg?”
“When the time is right.”
Her nod scarcely moved her head. “I think I’m going to go to bed, if I can walk that far.”
“Getting prone is a good idea.” He stood carefully and held out his hand. “Thank you.”
She let him pull her up, confusion making her ask, “For what?”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “For caring enough to ask me. Which is what precipitated this incredible . . .” He snorted. “I can’t come up with the right word even.” He hugged her. “Just thank you.” He opened the door and motioned her ahead of him. “’Night.”
Deborah reached up and kissed his cheek. “’Night.”
In her room, she started undressing for bed and instead collapsed on top of the summer bedspread. And didn’t wake up until she heard the birds heralding the morning. Looking around, she realized that at some point she had changed into her nightdress and crawled under the blanket. She could feel the smile lifting her face and see the morning breeze setting the lace curtain to dancing. Stretching her arms above her head and gripping the white iron bedstead, she exhaled and touched the foot rail with her toes.
Work! I’ll be late for work! She leaped from the bed to the window without touching the floor. Or so it seemed. While the sun had gilded the sky and burnished the land, it was still lifting from the horizon. “Thank you.” She dressed in record speed, grateful for indoor plumbing, and still wrapping her hair in a knot, headed down the hall to the kitchen, where she could already hear laughter.
Her ma’s smile greeted her. “I feared I might need to come wake you.”
“Thanks. I need to run.”
“I know, but you will eat first.” Mary Martha handed her a slice of bread with cheese. “Praying you a blessed day.” She kissed Deborah’s cheek and pointed out the door. “Grab the umbrella, just in case.”
Deborah did as she was told and took bites from her bread as she headed for the hospital, dodging the puddles as she hurried.
“If this rain keeps up, we’ll have to move the whole shindig over here to your warehouse.” Hjelmer and Daniel stood in the front window of the machinery building, watching the rain pelt down again. It was late Friday morning, and the storm seemed to have stalled right over Blessing—again.
Daniel nodded. “I know. That’s why I had the men clean it all up, get it fit for company. We could always cancel the whole thing, you know.”
“We could, but you know it could blow off and the sun could be shining again within the space of minutes.” Hjelmer shook his head. “We don’t cancel parties for rain here in Blessing. Fewer people might come, but you never know. I told Toby that since he is in charge of roasting the meat and the trench they dug is now full of water, to get a tent up, trench around it, and we�
��ll pump out the fire pit. The load of firewood was already under cover, so we’ll be safe.”
Daniel shrugged. “You can count on the governor not making it.”
“He, or rather his aide, already called with his regrets. Made me laugh. Now if there’s a blizzard whiteout or we get flooded out, then we’ll reconsider canceling.” Hjelmer reached for his still-dripping umbrella. “I gave you that packet, right?”
“You did. Thanks. Toby was disgusted that they couldn’t finish that barn roof. I think everyone is beginning to be concerned. The Red River rose, but not even a foot. See if you can get back to the bank without swimming.”
Daniel headed for his office with a quick trip by the warehouse. “It’s a good thing we’re low on stock right now,” he muttered to himself. He could hear the racket from the metal stamps cranking out parts for seeders and another section refitting the milling machines that made the new part for threshing machines. He’d be on the road next week taking orders. Should have been there several weeks ago. He waved to the young men on the ends of brooms, finishing the cleaning. They needed to bring the tables over from the school and the church, or rather the sawhorses with plank tops.
While this rain was certainly needed, this wasn’t exactly a convenient time. And not all at once like this.
Promptly at three o’clock, Astrid announced, “You get out of here now.” She almost pushed Deborah out the door.
“Thank you. Good thing, thanks to Ma, I brought an umbrella.” She turned and grinned at Astrid. “Can you believe we’re going to do the celebration tomorrow, rain or not?”
“I know. Crazy, but we of Blessing are determined.” Astrid held the door open. “Go!”
Deborah opened her umbrella and stepped out from under the portico. While the wind tried to snatch away her umbrella, she hung on and hurried up the street. Her shoes and skirt were soaking up water like a dishrag in the sink. She hadn’t worn boots; what an oversight. Closing the umbrella and leaving it to drain in the umbrella stand on the front porch, she stepped inside and untied her shoes on the rug.
From This Day Forward Page 11