From This Day Forward

by Lauraine Snelling

  Astrid nodded slowly, running her tongue over her lower lip. “I think this is an amazingly wonderful idea.” More nodding. “Yes. I can begin to see the possibilities. I mean, we follow the procedures you have already taught us, but seeing in person is always the most effective.”

  “From this first taste of your level of care, I can honestly say I’m immensely impressed. The nurses knew exactly what was needed, and the patient was attended promptly and thoroughly. And on our little tour through the building I saw nothing, absolutely nothing, out of place or in want of cleaning. This is extraordinary.”

  “Thank you, but you’ll notice this is a slow time. We only have a few patients. I’m sure when we’re full, as we were last summer during the diphtheria outbreak, you would not have been so impressed.”

  “Probably I would have been even more impressed. Word gets back to us, you know. We were amazed at how well you managed that crisis.” She sipped at her lemonade a few moments and Astrid gave her the time. Then Mrs. Korsheski said, “To hear that Dr. Elizabeth had gone on to her eternal reward shocked us all. A tragic loss. Immediately, Kenneth came forward and said, ‘They need two doctors there, minimum. I want to go.’ I know he will help make your life so much easier.”

  “You know our financial status better than anyone.”

  “We will pay his wages for this first year at least. That should give him time to set up a practice and hopefully become financially independent. And if needed, we will help him get there.”

  “That is exceedingly generous.”

  Mrs. Korsheski—Avis—shrugged. “After all, you fed and housed both him and the nurses when they came without requesting compensation. That did not escape our accountant’s attention.”

  “The least we could do.”

  “Do you have any questions?” Avis drained her lemonade.

  “Give me time to think.” Astrid trapped a yawn. “Sorry.”

  “You know what? I’m thinking I would like a bit of a lie-down before supper. That train trip is indeed tiring. And I suggest you do the same. After all, you are expecting, I hear.”

  Astrid smiled at her. “All I need to do is sit down and put my feet up, and I can be asleep instantly. All the good advice I give to my waiting mothers has come home to haunt me.”

  “Good.” Avis stood and held out her hand. “Come.”

  “You sound like my mor.”

  “Now, that is someone else I want to spend some time with while I am here.”

  Astrid heaved herself to her feet. Lord, please be taking care of Mr. Fredro. And give me wisdom to know what to do.

  Chapter 27

  How many town meetings had Ingeborg sat through? Many, many. Some were exciting and most were boring. All were necessary to keep the town together.

  As town meetings went, this one wasn’t too bad. Sophie reported how much the box social night had accumulated for the new school fund. It was an amazing sum, thanks in part to Mr. Gendarme’s generous bid.

  Toby stood up to describe the construction progress. “Barring any unplanned complications, we are nearly on-track again, which means we’ll have the new building weathered in so we can work on the interior during the winter. The eye beam is now in place, so we can finish the rafters and begin the roofing process. The siding is in process, and now that the windows are here, we’ll begin installing those this week. There are a lot of windows in that building. Come on out and see our progress.” He paused and looked around the room. “If you think it looks big from town, up close it is huge, especially when you are climbing a ladder with a load on your shoulder. Plenty of room for our deaf school to keep growing.” He sat down to a smattering of applause.

  Hjelmer reported on the state of the Blessing Bank, another thing that was boring but crucial. People were getting restless; it was a little stuffy in the room.

  Mary Martha announced that the quilters would begin meeting the third Thursday of September with a soup luncheon to start it. She added, “Please, for those of you whose wives did not come tonight, tell them about our meeting. Being a fine seamstress is not a requirement. We have lots of sorting and cutting to do too. Also, I have a letter here from Anji Devlin.”

  “Oh, read it!” Sophie exclaimed.

  Mary Martha stood and opened the paper. She raised her voice.

  “Dear friends,

  “I am writing one letter, hoping you will all share it, as I do not have time to write each one individually.

  “Thomas and I are doing fine. Thank you again for the livestock, especially the pig. It has grown into an amazing hog. We were going to butcher it, but Thomas got another idea that he asked his vestry about. The vestry is to our little church what the town council is to Blessing, a governing body, if you wish. They love his idea. So we are going to give the hog to the town as a thanks offering to God for this wonderful parish. A burnt offering, for we will roast it the way Blessing does on the Fourth of July, and everyone can come to the celebration.

  “I am busy not just as a housewife and mother, but I help at the church as well, on the altar guild, dressing the altar for the various seasons. There is so much to learn about how it’s done. It is kind of like our Blessing church but different in many ways.

  “The children are all doing well. Poor Gilbert had a difficult time at first, for he missed his friends so much. He kept begging for us to send him back to Blessing. Then he threatened to run away. You know how calm and easygoing Thomas is. Suddenly he showed a part of himself I had never seen. His voice changed from that happy Irish lilt to strong and authoritative. He sat Gilbert down in a chair in front of him and addressed him nose to nose, in no uncertain terms. ‘You can never run away from problems. I know because I tried that. It doesn’t work. You make new problems, and the old problems come along with you. You are a child of God and that will not change. You are a member of this family and that cannot change either. We love you as God loves you and we want the very best for you. Please stay with us and let us help you become the man you want to be.’ Those are not his exact words, but very close. And I am happy to say that Gilbert seems to be accepting life here and settling in. And playing with Benny (the puppy, not the boy!) and Frank. He wants to train Benny as a hunting dog. There is good hunting around here.

  “All the children and Thomas and I wish every blessing for each of you.

  “With warmest love,

  “Anji

  “P.S. No, I am not pregnant.”

  Mary Martha sat down. Everyone laughed heartily.

  “Thank you, Mary Martha.” Daniel checked his list. “Oh, Jonathan wanted me to ask if there are any others here who either do now or used to play an instrument. Between him and Joshua Landsverk, our band is improving all the time. If you are at all interested, please see me after the meeting here. Or stop by the house. John, do you want to give us the closing benediction?”

  Solberg raised his hands. “And now, may the Lord bless and keep us. May He shine his face upon us and give us His peace. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen. See you in church on Sunday.”

  Ingeborg looped her arm through Thorliff’s. “Walk me home?”

  “I can get the buggy.”

  “It’s too nice out.” She could tell this wasn’t what he had planned on, but sometimes a mother needed to take the first step, always praying it would not be the last one. As they left the schoolhouse, she pointed to the east. “Oh, look, a harvest moon.”

  Others around them stopped too, and she heard murmurs of so big and beautiful. Someone else said something in German, then added, “Sehr gut.”

  “Such a beautiful gift,” Ingeborg said.

  “Ja.” They walked a bit before Thorliff said, “You know, Inga needs to come home.”

  “She does. I shall miss having both of the girls together, but we knew fall was coming. She’s been helping Emmy tan that deer hide.”

  “Life is never dull at your house.”

  “So Dr. Johnson is going to room at your house?”
/>   “For a time. He and I were becoming friends when he was here on his internship.”

  “Astrid is sure happy to have more help at the hospital.”

  He didn’t answer.

  Ingeborg breathed a prayer, then, “Isn’t it time to heal the breach between you?”

  “Mor, that really is none of your business.”

  So that’s the way it is to be. Ingeborg toughened her spine. “Ah, yes it is,” she said firmly. “You are my son, Astrid is my daughter, and family members forgive one another when they need to.”

  “She stepped over the line, Mor. Way over.”

  She could hear the anger in his voice. Lord, help us. “Thorliff, do you remember after Roald died?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  “I did what you are doing now, working myself to the point of—”

  “So you couldn’t think? For missing my far?”

  “Ja, that was it. And all the work that needed to be done. I was so terrified that we would lose the land and you would not have your far’s legacy. He lived to earn the land.”

  “What changed for you?” He kicked a clump of rock-hard black dirt.

  “Kaaren.”

  “Tante Kaaren?”

  “She sat me down and spoke to me the way that Astrid spoke to you. She said, ‘What will Thorliff do if you die trying to save the land?’ I was so angry at her. . . .” Ingeborg could feel the surge of it again. “I . . . I wanted to hit her with something. But instead I ran out in the field until I fell on my knees, the agony ripping me apart.”

  “You’ve never told me this before.”

  “I know. I am not proud of the way I acted. But God reached me through my sister-in-law. And together, God and Kaaren pulled me out of the pit and put my feet on solid ground again. We owe her everything.” She stopped and turned him to look at her. “Thorliff Bjorklund, I—we love you. Our Father loves you. And it is time to let your heart heal. To forgive Elizabeth for leaving you, forgive God for taking her, and forgive yourself, for no matter what you think, you did all you could.”

  “I don’t know anymore. I feel this . . . this rage, and the only way is to work it off.”

  “No, the better way is to talk it off. You are not alone. You have a daughter who idolizes you, and all she sees are your sad eyes and it breaks her heart. Your little son needs you to be the pa you have been for Inga. It’s time.”

  He stared at her from eyes black with pain and shadows. “I will think on this. But what do I do when the anger attacks me again?”

  “You come and talk with me, or Kaaren, or John. Or all of us together. And you talk to Astrid.” She reached out and gathered him close. “Ah, my son. We will be praying for you, as I always have. Just ask our Father and He will pour out His love and wisdom upon you—and bring you healing.”

  “He hasn’t been listening.”

  “Oh, yes He has. You have not heard His answer. That rage creates a wall to make sure of that.” While she waited, she pummeled the gates of heaven with her pleas.

  Finally, Thorliff murmured, “Thank you.” He tucked her arm back in his. “I’m thinking perhaps . . .”

  “Ja. Perhaps.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “Can Inga stay until Sunday and go home with you after dinner?”

  “The dinner is at your house?”

  “Ja.”

  He left her on her porch and headed back down the lane. Was that his whistle she heard? “Thank you, Lord God. Your timing is always right.”

  The last week before school started was always filled with activity as people tried to cram more into those days than could possibly fit. Emmy and Inga scraped the hide stretched between two posts in the shade of the cottonwood tree.

  “How will we ever get it soft?” Inga asked.

  “Indian women used to chew the tanned leather.”

  “Eww! Ick.”

  “I didn’t learn to do that. But we’ll roll it up and beat it, keep working it, a good thing for winter nights, when my people sit around the fires in the lodges and tell stories of long ago and big hunts and—”

  “Do you miss that?”

  “Sometimes, but Grandma reads to us and we do schoolwork. Manny will do his carving, and I will make gloves or a vest or something from the leather.”

  Ingeborg joined them with a bucket of corn to be shucked. “Metiz used to make mittens from rabbit hides with the fur inside,” she told the girls. “We still have some of them, and the moccasins she made. I wear mine in the winter, as you know. She and Agnes Baard were my good friends. Metiz taught us how to forage like the Indians do and how to live off the land. I know that saved our lives more than once.”

  “Do you think Manda and Baptiste will ever come back?” Emmy asked.

  “I don’t know.” Ingeborg handed each of the girls a broken piece of corn cob, and they grinned at the first sweet bite. “I finished your skirt and jumper, Inga, for you to take home when you go.”

  “Thank you.” The look on Inga’s face wrenched her grandmother’s heart.

  Ingeborg reached out and drew Inga to her. “We knew this was coming, but I don’t think it is going to be as hard as you are dreading. Your pa and I had a long talk. We’ll keep praying for him, but I see glimmers of my old Thorliff coming back.” She rocked the little girl as she cried. “This has been a wonderful summer. Let’s keep enjoying every minute.”

  Sunday, after dinner and the ball game, Thorliff squatted down in front of Inga. “I know you would rather stay here at Grandma’s, but Rolly and I really miss you at home. Scooter too. And Thelma has sewn you some new clothes too. She said you outgrew everything.”

  “Grandma made me some too. Can Emmy come visit?”

  “Of course.”

  Ingeborg warned her mouth to keep from smiling. He did sound like he used to. Lord, thank you.

  “But not on school nights.”

  Inga sighed. “No more staying at Grandma’s, no more Emmy, no more kittens and calves and . . .” She hung her head. “Maybe you should move out here so Rolly can be Grandma’s boy like I am her girl.”

  Ingeborg caught Thorliff’s eye and shook her head, letting the grin show since Inga was concentrating on her pa. Leave it to Inga.

  “And he could learn to go fishing too,” Inga continued.

  “I think Rolly’s a little bit too small for fishing yet. But when he gets bigger, we’ll make sure he gets to go fishing.” Thorliff creaked to a stand. “You get your things. Maybe we should have brought the buggy to carry it all.”

  “We could use the wagon, but I don’t have a lot.” Inga and Emmy turned and headed for the house.

  Ingeborg and Thorliff continued at a slow stroll. It certainly was a lovely time of day.

  Thorliff licked his lips. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Of course.”

  “Could you invite Astrid out here, and I will come and we will talk?”

  “John Solberg too?”

  “As you wish.”

  “I’ll find out what night is best for them.”

  The girls came out with the wagon loaded. Thorliff took the wagon tongue, and together he and his daughter walked away. Ingeborg and Emmy watched the two walk down the lane. Ingeborg felt Emmy’s hand slide into hers. Together they picked up the last of the table things and headed for the house.

  The next morning, Manny ran in from milking and scrubbed his hands at the kitchen sink. “I have to change clothes, huh?”

  “Yes, quick.” Emmy dished his oatmeal up at the stove and set it on the table. She finished hers and buttered biscuits for them both. “Grandma, thanks for fixing our dinner buckets. I was going to.”

  “I know. I’m going to miss you two around here. Just think! You’re in the fifth grade this year.”

  “I know. Inga is in fourth grade. Perhaps we can still sit together.” Patches’ barking announced the students from the deaf school. “Hurry up, Manny. I have your dinner pail.” Emmy hugged Ingeborg and kissed baby Martin’s cheek on her way out th
e door.

  Manny drank the remainder of his oatmeal, grabbed his biscuits, and shoved them in his mouth before waving his way out the door.

  “I think we should all sit down with a cup of coffee—now.” Ingeborg pulled her chair back out. “Why do I feel like a tornado just went through here?”

  “A tornado named Manny.” Clara smiled. Her voice was still very raspy.

  Freda sat down and reached for Martin. “You eat, I’ll hold him.”

  With the deaf school back in session, Kaaren had suggested the construction men bring dinner pails, and Ingeborg would provide coffee for both the morning break and the noon meal. The kitchen staff at the deaf school would bake something once school was in full swing.

  Since the harvest crew had gone west and north on their annual trek to harvest for other farmers two days before, and the wagon drivers were now in school, the building force had diminished. Toby had moved all the tools and blueprints and paper work into the new hastily-slammed-together building shack, which was also on wheels for easy moving. But he spent most of his time working right along with his men. David Gould had stayed back from harvesting and continued learning from the finish carpenters.

  Everywhere people were cleaning out their gardens, canning the last of the vegetables, and starting to move the fall crop down into cellars. Freda had a cheese shipment ready to go, and Clara took over the coffee pots.

  Ingeborg studied the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. She had asked John Solberg to join them after school today as she, Astrid, and Thorliff would meet at the church—neutral ground, so to speak, where there should be no interruptions. With Freda out in the cheese house and Clara picking dried beans in the garden, Ingeborg put the gingerbread with applesauce to spoon over it in her basket, all the time praying for this meeting to bless them all. When she’d asked Astrid to come, she’d sensed the unwillingness.