She drained the glass, set it down on a table, and smiled at him. “Thank goodness, a slow one.”
This one was a slow-paced four-beat, slower than a polka, and since the dancers held each other in a close embrace, the kind of intimate dance Toby had been avoiding. Except now he wouldn’t avoid it for the world. He was really enjoying having her close.
“Before someone cuts in, may I walk you home afterward?” he asked.
She looked up at him from the corner of her eye. “I s’pose.”
“Good. Remember that.” True to his prediction, the dance wasn’t even half over when someone tapped him on the shoulder and he released her to whirl away with someone else. Staring after her, Toby rubbed his chin.
When Jonathan announced the last dance and then nodded at Linnea at the piano, Toby reached for Deborah’s hand before someone else did and settled into the final waltz. He sniffed her hair as he held her in his arms. “You smell good, like a spring day in May.”
Her cheeks reddened. “Thank you.” Then she tipped her head to smile up at him. “I think this has been one of our best celebrations ever.”
“I have to agree.” As if they danced together all the time, the two turned and swayed with the music.
After the last chord, Jonathan announced from the dance floor, “That’s all, folks. Thank you for coming and helping make this such a grand celebration. Oh, and the special edition of the paper is waiting for you at all the exits.”
The room broke out in applause as folks chatted with those around them.
Toby had not let go of Deborah’s hand. “Come on, let’s get a glass of punch before they put everything away.”
“Good idea.”
“Deborah?”
She turned at the call. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Shaking his head, he went to get punch for both of them just as Thorliff was thanking Penny for his drink.
Toby lifted a glass toward him. “Glad you got to come for at least part of this. You really missed a fine party.”
“That special should have been out last night, but the press conked out on me. Again.” Thorliff swigged his drink and shook his head. “I’m either going to have to order better equipment or just give it up.” He rubbed his right arm, which was still weak from his scare with diphtheria last summer. “I must be getting old.”
“You can’t give it up. That newspaper has always been your life.” Toby held out his cup to Penny for a refill. “And it’s one of the good and forward-looking things about Blessing. I mean, you’ve gotten awards for your articles, and you’d be lost without it. And so would we.”
“I suppose you’re right, but since this construction company took over . . .”
“Once we get the deaf school addition done . . .”
Thorliff grimaced. “Then we need to build a high school and remodel the primary school. Sophie’s been after us on the school, and I have a feeling the women are going to up the pressure.”
“They have to find the money first.”
“Oh, they will. You get that band of women working on something and they are indomitable, like being flattened by a runaway steam tractor.”
Hjelmer joined them. “I’ll be, you decided to grace us with your presence.” He shrugged off Thorliff’s glare and took the glass offered him. “That edition looks really good. You wrote that story on the second page?”
“One night when I couldn’t sleep. Writing usually helps me relax.” Thorliff rubbed his forehead. “Isn’t it awfully muggy in here?”
“You ought to try dancing.” Hjelmer mopped his forehead. “What a day this has been.”
“A grand day. I wouldn’t have thought we could pull this off yesterday when it was still pouring.” Toby checked to see where Deborah was. She had agreed to his walking her home, hadn’t she?
“You and Trygve and crew were a hit with the pork and beef.” Hjelmer clapped Toby on the shoulder. “If you didn’t already have a job, you could hire out to do real Texas bar-bee-cues.”
“Don’t give him any ideas,” Thorliff muttered. “He’s got a two-story school addition to build.”
Toby shrugged off a grin. “I’ll man the crews, you do the paper work. Say, we wanted to paint that barn tomorrow, but I doubt it will be dry enough.”
Hjelmer raised his hands, palms out. “Hold it, no business talk today, even this late. If we get caught, my wife will nail my hide to the back of the store. I promised her the men would not get together and talk either business or politics.”
“Well, since you need your hide, I’ll help with cleanup.” Toby started for the tables but Daniel interrupted.
“You’ve been up all night cooking, or at least most of it, and completed your mission. Let some of the others do this.”
Toby raised his hand. “I’m not arguing. Thanks.” He stopped behind Deborah, who was looking around, hopefully for him. “May I carry your basket, miss?”
She gave him a side glance. “Do I know you? I mean, you look like Toby, but . . .”
He took her basket. “That’s my kind of line. Maybe we can get home without wading in mud up to our knees.” They both picked up their copies of the paper from the dwindling stack by the door and stepped outside.
An evening breeze blew from the west, heralding the sinking of the sun. They stopped and lifted their chins to enjoy the cooling gift. “That sure feels better than in that building,” he said. “I thought the walls were going to melt.”
“But what a grand time everyone had in spite of the humidity and being packed in that warehouse.”
“Can you believe two hours ago it was raining again? Not sprinkling—raining. See, the mud puddles are running into ponds.” They looked up Main Street. “Boardwalk or no, let’s go the other way.”
With him swinging her basket, they dodged the puddles as much as possible until they were beyond the houses, where they could cross to the verge of the road to Ingeborg’s. The lots there were empty and the grass squished more than slopped. Instead of the fairly recent crossroad, they stayed to the grass.
“At least it’s mud free.”
“Barefoot would be better.” Deborah grinned at him from under raised eyebrows.
Toby stopped. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“Well, how long has it been since you’ve gone barefoot?”
“I have no idea. You can’t work on a construction site in bare feet.”
She leaned over, untied her soaking shoes, and kicked them off. “There, now I feel better.” She lifted her skirt a little and they both stared at her feet, toes digging into the wet grass. “Oh my, but that feels good.” She looked up at him and heaved a sigh. “It’s probably not proper, but oh, dancing creates hot feet. I just couldn’t bear to put my boots on again.”
Toby rolled his lips together but in spite of himself, laughter burst through. He held out his arm for her to take, but she planted her hands on her hips and stared at his boots.
He looked down, then up at her. “No.” It wasn’t a convincing no; it wasn’t an adamant refusal.
Deborah wrinkled her nose and tipped her head, then put a forefinger on her chin. “I’m surprised. I didn’t know the great Toby Valders was such a chicken.”
His eyes slitted. “Are you daring me?”
“If the shoe fits . . .”
He stared at her. Who was this woman? A grin fought to break out. He shoved the basket into her hands. “Hold this!”
Getting out of men’s shoes was not as easy as women’s. He unlaced both boots, used his toes to force them off, and stood straight.
“Your stockings are soaked now.”
“I know. Thank you for reminding me.”
“You can hang on to me so you can take them off.”
“I don’t need to hang on to you.” He pushed and pulled his socks off, almost landed on his rear, and stood up with a huff. “Happy now?”
“I wasn’t unhappy.” She pointed. “You might want to roll up your pant le
gs.”
I can’t believe this. Toby rolled his eyes, shook his head—and bent to the task. When he stood again, he noticed her nibbling her bottom lip. He’d not seen that in a long time.
“We could go splash in the mud puddles. I distinctly remember a rainy day when a certain boy deliberately splashed mud over some unsuspecting girls. And Pastor Solberg—”
“Set him to splitting wood.” Toby shook his head. “I split a lot more wood in my school years than I want to remember.” He turned to face her and sighed. “We did have fun, though, didn’t we?”
“You did. Astrid reminded me that you teased me unmercifully and left me trying to hide my tears more than once.” She turned and started west, her toes swishing through the wet grass.
He watched for a moment and then joined her, both of them swinging their shoes. Should I apologize? Did I really hurt her feelings that much? “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?”
“For the teasing, or. . . ?”
He almost couldn’t hear her. Maybe he didn’t want to hear her.
Grateful for a sudden noise behind them, he turned to see who was driving a wagon in this mire. The Knutsons waved to him and he waved back. Deborah turned and waved too.
Before she could face back toward home, Toby stopped her. “Deborah, look at that rainbow.”
She turned back and her mouth dropped open. “A double one. I’ve never seen a double rainbow before, have you?”
“Once, when I was out drilling wells. It rained so hard we had to stop even though the sun was out. And there one was, but not as vivid as this.”
“I wish I could paint it, but the paintings I’ve seen never can match the colors of real life. Not when it is like this.” She shrugged. “Not that I’ve seen all that many paintings.”
“I read somewhere that some people believe that someday they will be able to take photographs in color, and much faster than they do today. In Grand Forks one time, I saw a display of photographs by a man who travels all over the west, taking pictures of ranches and the people, cattle and horses and all kinds of wild animals too. The pictures were big, like this”—he spread his hands—“and you could see all the details.”
She sighed. “All I’ve seen are ones in books and magazines. You can’t tell much, they’re so little.”
“Haven’t you been to Grand Forks?”
“Nope. When Pa found Manda and me, he brought us to Blessing and I’ve never left. I’ve thought of going to nursing school. Astrid said she’ll pay for me to get training in administration.”
By now they were nearly to the Solbergs’ ranch house. Toby could hear laughing from out back.
She asked, “Do you want something cold to drink?”
The sun had started its speedy downhill slide, painting the sky and flat strokes of clouds many more shades than the rainbow possessed.
“Thanks, but I’ve got plenty of paper work to do before Monday. Do you have tomorrow off?”
“I go to work at three, so it sort of seems like it.” She reached for the basket and set it on the house-length porch. “Thank you for walking me home and carrying this.” Her grin didn’t quite meet her eyes until she snorted. “And for not splashing me—this time.”
“So, I’ll see you in church then?”
He wasn’t sure how to interpret the look she gave him. True, he didn’t always make it to services, but right now he figured it might be a good idea. Should he kiss her good-bye? On the other hand . . .
She made the decision for him by saying “Good-bye, Toby,” scooping up her basket, and going inside.
Swinging boots and socks, he headed for home. The pull to turn around and see if she might be watching him tickled. Instead, he whistled the tune of one of the dances.
His house seemed mighty empty when he stepped through the door. It was a good thing he had so much to do. It might keep him from thinking of how he’d felt around Deborah today.
Chapter 15
Ingeborg again thanked God that this church had good cross-ventilation. It was warm but not stuffy. The warehouse yesterday had been hot and stuffy and humid, but the people of Blessing sure didn’t let that slow them down.
Reverend Solberg closed the worship service with the blessing, and conversations picked up instantly. Friendly. That’s what this congregation was, just plain friendly.
As worshipers poured out the door, she and Kaaren swapped pleased smiles at what a great day the celebration had been.
“We’ll see you all at the house,” Ingeborg reminded the members of her family. She looked for Thorliff and saw him already halfway home, carrying his son. She’d call him as soon as she got home. Surely he wouldn’t deprive Rolly of time with all the family.
Inga squeezed her hand. “Pa . . .” She stopped and sighed. “I . . . I wish . . .”
Ingeborg watched her granddaughter take a deep breath, wipe her nose with the back of her hand, and swipe it on the back of her dress. Ingeborg hadn’t the heart to correct her, so she dug a hankie out of her pocket and placed it in Inga’s hand with a smile.
“Other pas danced with their girls,” Inga said.
It was all Ingeborg could do to keep from taking her hankie back and using it herself. Lord, help us. Please help us. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see John Solberg nodding at her.
“He will come around. I don’t know when, but he will.”
“Sometimes I wonder.”
“I know, but . . .” He turned to Inga. “For both of you, for all of us. Your daddy will come back—the real one, I mean.” He nodded and they both followed his example. “We keep praying and thanking God for the wisdom He is giving us too.”
“But Pa . . .” Inga sniffed again and wagged her head. “But . . . but . . .”
“We don’t see the answers yet, but we asked, and we know God heard us, right?”
Emmy joined them, taking Inga’s other hand. All three of them nodded, the girls albeit a trifle hesitantly.
“Then now, we thank our Father for the answers He has sent on the way. Remember the verse we read this morning, Isaiah 65:24: ‘Before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear’?”
“We will read that one again tonight, John, thank you.” Ingeborg could see the questions building up in Inga’s mind.
“I know this is a real stretch for us humans, but—” He smiled at Ingeborg. “I think I feel a sermon coming on, maybe several.” He nodded as he spoke. “I better get this written down so I don’t forget it. Thank you, girls, for helping me.”
Inga stared at him. “But we didn’t do nothing.”
“You might think so, but this is one of those things we might not see, but they are there anyway,” the pastor said. “Just try to believe it, all right?”
Ingeborg nodded. “We will. You know, John, you and your family are all welcome for dinner.”
“Takk. I know. But first I’ve got some notes to write.”
She swung the girls’ hands, one on each side. “Have you seen Manny?”
Emmy tugged at her hand. “He went home with Clara and Freda. They need us.”
“Let’s walk fast, then.” And so they did.
By the time everyone except Thorliff had arrived, the tables were groaning with food. At least Thelma had brought Rolly. Andrew raised his voice to be heard above the others—hopefully. He grinned at his mor and nodded to Manny, whose piercing listen up whistle was becoming legendary. “Let’s have grace before the food is all cold.”
“Or the flies get it,” Freda muttered after throwing dishtowels over the meat.
“I Jesu navn, går vi til bords . . .” They all joined in the Norwegian grace, as the younger generation had taught their children too, including Rolly, who finished with his loud “’men.” He also clapped as soon as Thelma released his hands, making the other kids giggle.
“Ah, the joys of toddlers.” Kaaren’s smile was as wide as Ingeborg’s. “At the rate he’s going, he’ll be leading Thelma on a merry chase�
�and his father, when he wakes up.”
Ingeborg grinned as she looked around. “I never get enough of seeing us all together like this.”
“It’s good to have Sophie and hers here for a change too. Come on, we’d better get ourselves some food before it’s all gone. That baked rabbit that Freda put out is sure popular.” Kaaren tugged on her arm. “Come on.”
Ingeborg followed. “Did you know Benny is trapping rabbits at Toby’s and their own garden? Maybe with the ones Manny is getting here, we’ll run out of rabbits.”
“Ha.” Kaaren handed Ingeborg a plate. “As if that could ever happen. The cat brought in a baby bunny this morning.”
“Still alive?”
“No, she had killed it, at least.”
After everyone had had dessert, the women set about clearing away the dishes, and the guys formed up teams for baseball.
“We didn’t announce the women’s party at church!” Sophie grumbled.
Kaaren scooped the few leftover turnips into a smaller bowl. “That’s okay, we did last week. We probably should have set it at the church rather than at a house, but no matter. Several of the quilters have already asked if we will be sewing.”
“Not this time. We’ll be planning.”
“Uh-oh, we’re in for it this time. I see a wicked gleam in your eye.” Kaaren and Ingeborg both gave mock shudders.
Sophie added, “Besides, you know everyone will bring handwork, no matter what we say.”
Ingeborg picked up the platter that had held the rabbit. “Times like this—well, other times too, but . . .” She gave a slight shake of her head as she continued, “I know you might not believe it, but I really miss Hildegunn.” She reached for Rolly, who was rubbing his eyes, and smiled at Thelma. “You sit down for a change. In fact, let’s all sit down.”
She led the way to the chairs. With Rolly settled in her lap and sucking his finger, Ingeborg kissed the top of his head.
“Ja, I sure wonder where she and Anner are and why we’ve never heard from them.” Kaaren sipped from her glass of swizzle.
Thelma stared at her glass. “Me too.”
From This Day Forward Page 14