On Sunday some of the musicians brought their instruments over and played for him. Ingeborg knitted a sweater for three-and-a-half-year-old Carl, starting her Christmas gifts early. Others weeded her garden . . . and life went on. Three calves were born and a foal, and Ingeborg described them to the silent man if Inga didn’t do it.
A glad change: He started swallowing the water that they offered him, a scant teaspoon at a time. Ingeborg prepared a rich broth and he swallowed that as well. “Still, he is dehydrated,” Astrid commented. The diaper pad beneath him remained dry, not a good sign.
School let out for the summer, so that the children could help on their farms. Inga came by the house that afternoon, sitting on Haakan’s bed and explaining with many words about how she had to stay in from recess because she had climbed the tree at school one day. The boys could climb the tree but not the girls. It wasn’t fair, she’d decided. She laid her head on his shoulder and stroked his hand as she had seen the others do.
Ingeborg went out to peel the potatoes for dinner, but she could still hear Inga clearly. “You got to wake up, Grandpa. Me and Carl need to go fishing. Emmy’s uncle came and got her again. Her cousin, Two Shells, too. Grandma has sad eyes all the time and with Emmy gone, I lost my best friend. But Mor reminds me that Emmy will come back in the fall for school again.” Suddenly Inga shouted, “Grandma, come quick! Grandpa is smiling!”
Ingeborg flew in through the open door and dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Haakan, you are smiling. Please, dear Lord, let this be a sign to us, a sign of hope.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently.
The return pressure was weak but real nonetheless. “Thank you, God. Oh, thank you.” She slipped into Norwegian and kept on thanking and praising God.
“Grandma, I don’t know what you are saying.” Inga sat cross-legged on the bed, one elbow propped on one knee, her chin in her hand.
“Ja, I will talk English, but you little ones need to learn Norwegian too. Thank you for the reminder.” She stood. “I will let the others know so we can all rejoice.” Her steps light, she hurried to the telephone and lifted the earpiece. “Gerald, could you please let everyone know that Haakan is smiling, and he squeezed my hand back. Inga saw it first.”
“Oh, Ingeborg, I am so glad. I will tell all of Blessing, indeed.”
“Thank you. I know this is only the beginning, but he is responding.” She set the earpiece back on the side prong that held it and stared out the window. These last days had been the longest in her life, or so they felt at the moment. “Lord, only you know what is ahead, but I am so thankful that you are holding us both tight in the palm of your hand. I trust you no matter what. Thank you for your patience with me and my fears.”
She knew He heard whispers as well as He knew her thoughts. She went to the icebox and pulled out a jar of broth to heat. Lars had brought her a new block of ice. There had been talk of installing one of those machines that made ice at the hospital, but so far cutting ice from the river and storing it in the icehouse with sawdust to pack around it worked well for the whole town.
The jangling of the phone caught her in midpouring. She set the jar down and returned to the oak box on the wall.
“Mor, that is such wonderful news.” Astrid fairly bubbled with joy. “I’ll be right out. You tell Inga to take good care of her grandpa.”
“Oh, she is. She saw the smile and hollered for me. Astrid, I know there is a lot ahead, but right now I am weak with joy and relief. I’m afraid I was beginning to lose hope.”
“Me too. Sometimes one’s knowledge can be a hindrance instead of a help. Do you need anything from town?”
“Only the mail.”
“I’ll get it.”
Ingeborg set the jar in a pan of hot water from the reservoir and left it on the back part of the stove. She went to the bedroom door. “Would you like tea or something else to drink?”
“Milk.” Inga smiled at her grandmother. “And cookies?”
“Of course.”
“In here or outside?”
“In here. We’ll sit by the window.” She watched as Inga scooted off the bed, her arm still bound to her body. Another week and Astrid said they would remove the sling and check the arm, although Inga was getting pretty adept at using one arm. The amazing adaptability of a child. Would Haakan recover also? He did not seem to have any paralysis, but once he began moving on his own again, they’d know more.
Later that evening, after Elizabeth had come to check on their patient and taken the protesting Inga home, Ingeborg sat in the darkening bedroom, the breeze lifting the curtains at the window. A sound from the bed caught her attention. “Haakan?” She slipped over to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyelids fluttered and a frown creased his forehead. “Can you hear me? If so, squeeze my hand.” This time the squeeze was certain and stronger. “Oh, Haakan, my dear, welcome back from wherever you have been.”
The side of his mouth twitched, and a smile curved the dimple in his right cheek.
“Can I get you anything?” She smoothed the hair back off his forehead. He’d lost so much weight, she could feel the bones. “If I bring the broth again, will you take some?”
The nod was so slight she almost missed it, but he was responding. Finally! Oh, Lord be praised! “I’ll be right back.”
This time he swallowed half a cup of spooned-in broth and then he clamped his lips. Ingeborg felt like whirling around the room like Inga. She watched her husband relax, visibly this time, as if he’d been working hard. Which she knew he had. After lying so still in bed, any response would take effort. She remembered back to when she had fainted, or whatever they called it, after she had saved baby Goodie’s life. She never knew she could run so fast. God must have given her wings.
And now Andrew and Ellie’s little Gudrun May was such a delight. With little Haakan, their newborn boy now three weeks old, Andrew and Ellie had three children, and Ellie was hoping for more.
Resisting the urge to shake her sleeping husband to make sure his activity had not been a dream, she got ready for bed before dusk had darkened into night. The narrow yellow band on the western horizon had shrunk to a thin line when she propped Haakan up on the side facing her and crawled into bed. She took his hand in hers and softly recited the Lord’s Prayer in Norwegian, as they did every night. This time he squeezed her hand twice at the amen.
Lord, wake me if he needs me was her slipping-away thought, and when she woke, the rooster was doing his best to get the sun out of bed. Ingeborg had not moved all night. That never happened. Haakan was breathing softly and easily, the breeze fluttered the white lace curtains, and a sleepy bird tried out his morning chirp in a raspy voice. In her light summer robe and bare feet, she strolled to the outhouse, glorying in the lightening sky, with the sickle moon hanging in the west, and the eastern sky giving way to the new day. The rooster crowed again, making her smile. The dew felt chilly on her feet and dampened the edge of her gown. A new day. A glorious new day. Haakan was improving. What more could she ask?
When she returned, Haakan had rolled onto his back. By himself. Another feat that sent her dancing to start the fire in the cookstove, pour out the little remaining coffee, make new, and dip water still warm in the reservoir to wash her face. In all the ordinary daily actions, she kept singing praises. So many things to be thankful for. After checking on Haakan, she took her Bible out on the back porch, where she could watch the sun paint the sky and revel in that perfect moment when the rim of the sun crested the horizon and the trees lining the river shimmered in the glory.
She searched out the psalms of praise and sang them along with the birds.
“Good morning,” Freda said as she stepped up on the porch after the brief walk from her house. She had taken over much of the heavy work, including running the cheese house.
“Coffee’s hot.”
“You had breakfast yet?”
“No, but Haakan is sleeping peacefully, and now I will go get dressed. If Kaaren nee
ds you, we are fine here.”
“Is there any bacon left?” At Ingeborg’s nod, Freda continued, “Good. Scrambled eggs with bacon and cheese, toast and jam. Then we’ll discuss the day.”
Ingeborg smiled and tipped her head. “You are such a dear.”
Freda shook her head. “Maybe in heaven I will be.”
“Then bring a cup of coffee out here and sit with me for a moment.” She knew Freda rarely sat down once her day got going.
“If you insist, and then you’ll tell me how Haakan truly is doing.”
Freda brought the pot out, refilled Ingeborg’s cup, and poured her own. “Now.”
Ingeborg brought her up to the moment and leaned her head against the cushion. “I was losing hope.”
“You and all the rest of us. God sure is never in a hurry to answer our prayers. And believe you me, the whole town is praying.”
“I know. We are so blessed. Oh, and instead of toast, we have cinnamon rolls that need to be eaten. Warmed in the oven would be good.” She started to get up but Freda waved her back down.
“You just sit for a while. It won’t kill you.”
Ingeborg gestured to her nightwear.
“No one else is around. Just sit and enjoy the spring around you.”
For a change Ingeborg did what she was told, and after they ate, she returned to the bedroom to get dressed for the day. Humming, she sat down to brush out her hair and heard a noise behind her. “Haakan.” He was rolling to his side and actually smiled at her.
“Ja. Good.” His voice sounded gravely for lack of use.
She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled into his eyes, grateful for a slightly lopsided but returned smile. “I was so afraid this would not be again.”
“It . . . was a . . . long . . . way.” So raspy. So beautiful to hear.
“Let me get you some warm water and honey. That will soothe your throat.” She swiftly twisted her hair and pinned it on top of her head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.” His smile made her float out to the kitchen.
“They are done with the milking.” Freda set a crock with a handle up on the counter. “I knew we needed to churn butter, so I brought the cream in to warm. From the look on your face I can tell you have good news.”
“Haakan is talking. Warm water with honey will help his scratchy throat.”
She poured a blob of honey into a cup of warm water and grabbed a spoon, stirring as she returned to the bedroom. “Do you think you can sit up if I prop you with pillows?”
He nodded but was too weak to do anything to help her. So half sitting, he sipped from the cup, then motioned for her to use the spoon. When Ingeborg set the empty cup aside, his smile was not so lopsided—not a normal wide Haakan smile either, but an improvement.
“You didn’t appear to have trouble swallowing.”
He shook his head, but not much.
“You need fluids, but if I brought you some cheese, do you think you could eat that?”
“Ja, good.”
She picked up his hand and laid her cheek against the back of it. “Ja. Good is right. Thank you, Lord God, Haakan is back.”
“I . . . never . . . left.” The words came slowly, not much more than a whisper, but she could understand him.
She rolled her eyes, but a tear leaked out anyway. “You could hear us, even when you did not, could not, respond?”
“Ja.” He squeezed her hand. “Lie down.”
Nodding again, she stood to remove the pillows. When he lay against only one, he sighed, and with a smile, his eyes fluttered closed and he slept.
Ingeborg watched his chest rise and fall, evenly and gently. He was having no trouble breathing. Had he really had another stroke, and if so, how could there be so little apparent damage? If not a stroke, what? Especially since he had been in a coma for so long. Her own husband was a medical mystery to her. She headed to the icebox for cheese, then gently closed the door. He could eat the cheese later.
She could hear the thump of the butter churn on the back porch. Even that sounded joyous. But when she cranked the telephone and picked up the earpiece, tears rained like the sky had opened to deluge the land. Instead, she hung the earpiece back on the prongs and sobbed into her apron-covered hands. The screen door banged against Freda as she flew across the room and wrapped her arms around Ingeborg’s shoulders, guiding her to the chair. They sat and she let Ingeborg cry as she gently stroked her arm and shoulder.
Chapter 6
The week passed like a breeze blowing through the window.
Astrid and Elizabeth sat behind those attending the meeting called by what was beginning to be known as the city council, unofficially anyway. Penny Bjorklund slipped in to sit beside them.
Astrid knew her mor would be there too, although she hated to leave Haakan, especially in the evening, even though he’d told her to go.
Sophie poked Astrid’s arm. “Trygve is back!”
Astrid craned her neck to see. The young man, grinning and shaking hands, was joining the fellows in the corner. He looked tanned and healthy.
Thorliff stepped to the front of the group of about twenty men, and the growing group of women, all of whom owned businesses in Blessing. Rebecca joined them just as Thorliff started talking.
“Glad you could all make it, since the announcement just went out this afternoon. Before we begin the business, Reverend Solberg, will you lead us in prayer?”
John Solberg stood and bowed his head, waiting for the shuffling to cease before he began. He waited a bit more and then his voice came gently. “Our heavenly Father, who gives us life and livelihood, family and friends, homes and farms, and all of our businesses, we thank you for your presence here among us and within us. Thank you for the myriad ways you have blessed this town and all of us individually. We cannot begin to count the ways and times you have come to us in our needs. Thank you that Haakan is responding so well. Near as I can tell, that fits in the miracle category.” A whisper of agreement and nods drew them all even closer. “So Father, now we ask you to bless this meeting, to give us good ideas that can benefit our town and help us to always grow closer to you. We thank you and praise you for hearing us and for always answering. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”
Thorliff stood again. “There are several reasons we believe we needed to get together, and number one on our agenda is the robbery in Grafton. I am sure all of you read the article I printed a while back in the paper. I figured they’d catch the thieves in short order and all would be well. But they are still on the loose, and they robbed the grocery store in Pembina. That was done by only one man, but I’ve heard tell, the others were nearby.”
“Makes no sense. Where could those varmints hide for almost two weeks?”
“I know, Anner, and your safety is part of the reason we are here. Let’s face it, we have both a bank and a thriving grocery store. We could be on their list.”
“If they are not caught.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Dr. Deming, the dentist, asked, glancing around as if to apologize for a newcomer speaking up.
“Glad you asked,” Thorliff said. “Daniel, you’re the one who talked with the law in both Grand Forks and Grafton. Would you please tell us what you learned?”
Daniel Jeffers nodded and stood. “I spoke first with the sheriff in Grafton. He is frustrated and furious. The folks of Grafton are hollering for his hide, as if this were his fault. He said we better get together a plan to protect Blessing, but he also reiterated that the band could be discovered any day.”
“Right.” The sarcasm came from someone else.
“I talked with Grand Forks, and they suggested we hire one of their deputies to patrol the bank and the town at night, since both of the robberies were at night. They said that lawbreakers usually use the same tactics each time.”
“Why hire someone when we could take turns?” Hjelmer Bjorklund leaned forward. “We all know how to use guns.”
“True, but—”
“How would we pay an outsider?”
“Why not close the bank and make it known that there is no money here any longer? You know, take away the prize.”
“Nah, that wouldn’t work.”
The women glanced at one another. Who said that last? Astrid wished she could see more of the group, but from the back it was hard to tell some of them. Talk about frustrating, being only an observer. Perhaps . . . no, there was no sense in riling the waters.
Trygve stood. “What will it take to hire someone, and do we really want to do that? Would only one man be enough?”
“Three questions?”
“I couldn’t get a word in edgewise until this moment.”
Everyone chuckled.
Lars Knutson spoke up with a shrug. “Besides, Thorliff, Haakan would have asked one of the questions.”
Astrid mentally finished the comment: . . . if he were here. But while Haakan wanted to come, he needed too much help getting around yet. He was getting stronger each day. Still, both of his doctors had overruled him. The amazing thing was, he let them. That was not at all like him, to allow their pleading to indeed overrule his desires.
Sophie nudged her with an elbow and leaned close to whisper, “My tongue is bleeding.”
Astrid rolled her lips together to keep from laughing out loud. “All of us females, I know.” She shook her head the slightest bit, indicating they should be paying attention. But her own mind did not want to pay attention. The idea of someone armed and patrolling the streets of Blessing made her stomach sour. One of their own would be bad enough, but the thought of people shooting, bullets flying, and blood pouring . . . Her mind kicked into doctor mode. How would they handle a crisis like that at the hospital? Especially if more than one person were severely wounded. True, they had two doctors, but they lacked nursing staff and sufficient supplies. How could they remedy that in the shortest amount of time?
She jerked her mind back to the discussion in time to hear Mr. Valders move that they hire help from Grand Forks. It looked like the group was divided fairly evenly. Wouldn’t waiting until tomorrow for the decision be a better idea?
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