A Touch of Grace

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Come, my Inga, let us put this on the shelf for now. I am sorry I didn’t talk with you first.”

  She followed the tug on her braid and scooted back into his welcoming arms. “I forgive you.”

  “Good. And I you.”

  “But I—” He cut off her argument with a gentle kiss. “ ’Night.” Though it was awhile before they went to sleep, she felt the comfort of his arm over her waist and listened for his first gentle snore that told her he was really asleep. God, I wish there were easy answers at times. One thing settles out and something else comes up. I don’t like changes like this. I will miss Penny and Hjelmer dreadfully. Besides, how could I run a store with all the other things I have to do? But what do you want us to do?

  COULD THERE BE ANYTHING more precious in the whole world?

  Grace stared down into the basket, where the twins slept cuddled together. Hamre’s hair was so fine as to look bald, while darker wisps feathered little Joy’s head. She traced the tiny perfect fingers on a baby hand with a tender touch. Her heart swelled with a love she’d not known before.

  “They are so perfect.” She signed the words so the sound wouldn’t wake the babies.

  “I know,” Sophie signed back. “But they are not so perfect when they both demand to be fed at the same time.”

  Grace smiled and settled back in the rocking chair. Sophie had moved into Bridget and Henry’s quarters after having the woodwork repainted, new curtains hung, and the furniture rearranged. Perhaps when the twins were older, they would have a room of their own, but for now the basket sat on a trunk at the foot of the bed.

  She couldn’t get over the difference in her sister. Already she’d slimmed back to half the size she’d been before the delivery. Black circles under her eyes testified to lack of sleep, but their mother said that was normal for a new mother, even more so with twins.

  “Do you have enough milk for both of them?”

  “So far, although they want to nurse every two hours. Hamre eats and falls asleep before getting full enough, I think. Then he wakes up first. Dr. Elizabeth said to keep him awake to make him eat more. Ha! I can’t keep me awake, let alone him. Thank God for Mrs. Sam.”

  “You could go take a nap now while they’re asleep.”

  “But you are here to visit, and I so long for something besides babies.”

  “Sophie!”

  “I know. I love them so much, and I’m grateful they are all right, but I’m even more grateful they are all right and now outside of me.”

  “You were huge.” Grace pantomimed how big Sophie had been.

  “I know. Believe me, I know.” Sophie leaned forward and signed, “Can you keep a secret?”

  Grace pulled back. “You’re not running away again, are you?”

  “Don’t be silly. How could I run away with all this, and besides, all I want now is right here in Blessing.”

  Grace stared at her sister—the dreamy look in her eyes, the gentle smile. “So the rumors are true.”

  Sophie’s eyes popped open. “What rumors?”

  “That Mr. Wiste and you … that you’re …”

  “What? That he loves me?”

  Grace nodded. And why she wondered yet again, didn’t you tell me?

  “I wanted to tell you, dear Grace, but Garth asked me to wait until he could talk with Far.” Sophie clenched her hands harder. “Please don’t be cross with me. I love him. We are going to be married as soon as his house is finished, and Mrs. Valders is going to have not just one fit but many, for it won’t have been a full year since either his wife or my husband died, and I don’t really care.” Sophie reached for Grace’s hands and folded them in her own. “I know it is soon, but his children need a mother and mine need a father. His sister will bring Grant and Linnie out as soon as the house is finished, and she and her family will live with us until their new house is ready. Did I tell you Garth’s sister Helga and her husband are moving to Blessing?”

  “I think you might have mentioned it. Have you talked with Far and Mor—about getting married?”

  “Garth is going to talk with Far tomorrow night after the board meeting for the flour mill.”

  “And Mor?” Did Sophie not realize that if Grace had heard the rumors so had their parents? Had she become so distant from all of them that their feelings didn’t matter? Grace tried to push down the seed of resentment.

  “I was hoping she would come in today with you.”

  “She and Ilse are canning strawberries and making jam. I should be helping them, but I wanted to come and be with you.”

  “Thank you. Well, are you happy for me?”

  Grace tamed her thoughts before nodding and giving Sophie a gentle smile. “Yes, I am. Mr. Wiste is a fine man.” She paused again and then grinned. “And he’s not likely to take you away from Blessing.”

  “So what about you?”

  “What?”

  “Astrid says Jonathan Gould can’t keep his eyes off you.”

  “Astrid is being a gossip.” But she could feel the heat rising up her neck.

  “You are blushing.” Sophie fanned her neck with her fingers along with a teasing grin. “He is very handsome.”

  “He wants me to teach him to sign, so I gave him one of our alphabet charts.”

  “I’d think he’d rather you formed his fingers into the proper shapes like you do the little children.”

  “Sophie Knu—Bjorklund! What a thing to say.” Grace’s fingers warmed clear to the tips to match her face. She stumbled over the words in her confusion and resorted to fingers only. “How can you even think such things?”

  “Do you like him?”

  “Of course. He’s a very nice young man.”

  “Does your heart pick up speed when he walks into a room?”

  Grace shook her head. Ah, Sophie, if only you knew. My heart is already tied up with a knot and a bow. I just wish I could get a chance to talk with Toby and find out what is going on.

  “Do you look up and find him watching you?”

  “Sophie, that is quite enough. Besides, he will be leaving to go back to New York at the end of August. And that will be the end of that.”

  “You can always write letters.” Sophie gave her a droll look and sighed. “So then, have a good time but be aware that what you think and what he thinks might be two entirely different things. Doesn’t the name Mrs. Jonathan Gould have a nice ring to it?”

  “Very nice but not for me. I will help Mor in teaching the new students. We will open the school to five more pupils this year. That will be about twenty, if that many inquire.”

  “Doesn’t Mor have a waiting list?” Sophie turned toward her babies. “There he goes again. Hamre, you just ate.”

  Grace leaned over the basket. “I’ll take him up so he doesn’t wake Joy.” She lifted the squirming baby. “Oh, you’re soaked.”

  “Ja, his system works very well. Cover him up when you change him, or you’ll get squirted.”

  Choking back a retort, Grace laid the now whimpering baby on the padded top of the chest of drawers. She unpinned his diaper, remembering how the same thing had happened when Samuel was a baby. She and Sophie had thought their baby brother the most fascinating creature. And it was she, not Sophie, who had tried to help Mor change his diapers then. They were too little when Trygve was born to pay much attention. After dusting Hamre with powder, she pinned a new diaper in place and added dry soakers and finally a clean dry gown, tying the ribbons at neck and chest. By this time Hamre was throwing in a howl or two. She carried him to his mother, who had a hemmed flannel blanket to throw over him and her shoulder while he nursed.

  Sophie settled her son into the crook of her arm and smiled down at him as he latched on to the breast. “Now, don’t go to sleep on me.” She glanced up at Grace. “Calves and lambs are cuter than human babies, don’t you think?”

  “Don’t let Mor hear you say that.”

  “Well, they are. And a lot more independent too. A calf wouldn’t lie around w
himpering. It would go bop the cow on the udder and help itself.” She settled back in the rocking chair. “Have you walked through Mr. Wiste’s house?”

  Why is she asking me that? “No. But it looks to be a big one.”

  “I wondered why he wanted me to look at the different plans and help him choose. But he had already decided he wanted to marry me, and he wanted me to like the house. Isn’t that just the most thoughtful thing?”

  Grace nodded, not sure she’d caught everything Sophie said, but signing right now was a bit difficult. She got the idea that it was all about Mr.Wiste, however. Sophie, Sophie, this sounds like last September all over again. Hamre this and Hamre that.

  “I know you think I’m going on like I did over Hamre, but my dear sister, I have learned a few things. One of them is that life can change faster than you can blink your eyes. I’d rather grab hold and go along for the ride than stand on the sidelines and watch life pass me by. Both Garth and I have lost someone dear, and that makes us not want to waste a minute.” Her serious look turned to a grin. “Besides, just think of all the conniption fits Mrs. Valders is going to have over this. Why, she might as well write to President Roosevelt and complain.” Her eyebrows wiggled, setting Grace to grinning back.

  “You really believe this is what God has planned for you?”

  “I do, and we have prayed about this a lot. We will have the wedding in the church, and I want you to stand up with me. Garth is having his brother with him. We haven’t talked with Pastor Solberg yet, but we are hoping for mid-July. Maybe I’ll be able to wear one of my newer dresses by then.”

  “Well, if we need to sew one, we better get on it.”

  “You could wear the dress you sewed for graduation.”

  “All right.”

  Sophie glanced down at her baby. “Sure enough, sound asleep. Here, you tap on the bottoms of his feet while I pat his cheeks. Hamre, wake up.” They got him to nurse a bit more, but his little mouth would just slip away from the nipple. Sophie held him to her shoulder and rubbed his back until he burped and then laid him back in the basket next to his sister. “At least Joy didn’t wake up.”

  “Why don’t I go and get us some lemonade.”

  But when Grace came back, Sophie was on the bed, sleeping as peacefully as her children. Grace went back to the kitchen and set the lemonade in the icebox. “I’m going over to see Elizabeth,” she told Mrs. Sam. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “They’s sleepin’?”

  “For the moment.”

  Before leaving, Grace took another look at Sophie sleeping, once such a familiar sight and now so different. You ran away but now have two beautiful babies and are about to marry again. If you are like the prodigal son, I guess I am the stay-at-home brother. I definitely have his attitude today. Why am I feeling jealous of my own sister?

  Grace set her straw hat with the tulle ribbon back on her head, using a hatpin to hold it in place, and pausing on the front step, made a lightning decision. She’d walk the long way, around the flour mill and then back to Thorliff and Elizabeth’s house. Just perhaps she would see Toby, and just perhaps he would take a moment and come to talk with her. While the men waved from high up where they were putting the roof on the concrete building, Toby didn’t bother coming down. But then, what silly idea made her think he would? The men would have teased him forever. Don’t be such a ninny, Grace. You’ll embarrass yourself and him too.

  Instead of going in the front door and passing Elizabeth’s surgery, she let herself in the back screen door.

  “Is anyone home?”

  Thelma, her hair covered with a white dish towel, came up the stairs from the cellar brushing a cobweb off her arm. She nodded at Grace. “Don’t know how those pests move in so fast. We need a cat. Mouse droppings all over the place.”

  “Our barn cats take care of the house too. We could bring in one of the half-grown kittens, but they are pretty wild.” Grace glanced about the immaculate kitchen. “Is Elizabeth out on a call?”

  “No, she’s lying down. You want I should get her?”

  “No. I know she’s not feeling well. I’ll go on back to the boardinghouse. I’m spending the afternoon with Sophie, but she fell asleep too.”

  Thelma looked up. “That’s the doctor’s bell. I’ll go see what she needs and be right back.”

  Grace waited, glancing around the room, admiring the gas stove and the hand pump at the sink so they needn’t carry water. Mor and Far wanted to put that in at their house too, but so far it had not happened.

  Thelma charged back into the kitchen. “Doctor says to go for Ingeborg. Can you harness up the buggy and go?”

  “I can run faster than harness the horse and buggy, but I could ride the horse.”

  “Please, go.”

  Without asking more, Grace tore out the door. What could be wrong that Elizabeth needed Ingeborg? Her baby? What else?

  INGEBORG HEARD THE HORSE galloping up the lane and went to the door. What was Grace doing on Thorliff ’s horse?

  “Tante Ingeborg, she needs you!” Grace slid off the horse as soon as it stopped. “Dr. Elizabeth.”

  “Oh, dear God. I’ll get my bag. You run down to the barn and ask the boys to harness the buggy.” Ingeborg whipped her apron over her head as she ran for the bedroom and her bag, although why she’d need it at Elizabeth’s, she wasn’t certain. Badly bruised bag in hand, she stopped long enough to grab a sunbonnet from the coatrack.

  “What is it?” Astrid came down the stairs from where she’d been rocking Inga to sleep.

  “Dr. Elizabeth needs me. Good thing we have Inga here. You’ll have to finish up supper. Perhaps Grace can stay and help you.”

  “We’ll be fine. Go on and don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worrying. God has everything under control—just thinking out loud.”

  Grace charged up the steps and burst in the door. “They’ll be ready by the time you get to the barn.” Her fingers did her talking so she could catch her breath.

  “Takk.” She paused before the door. “We’ll plan on keeping Inga overnight if this is what I think it is.”

  “She’s losing the baby?” Astrid asked, following her mother out the door.

  “Possibly. This pregnancy hasn’t been right.” Ingeborg looked to the barn, where Jonathan and Trygve had the horse backed into the buggy traces. “Take care.”

  “Go with God.”

  “I do. Thank you, my dear.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek, gave Grace a hug, and let Jonathan hand her into the buggy. “Thank you too.” She picked up the reins, clucked the horse forward, and driving a tight circle, turned down the lane in a quick trot. Please, Father, protect Elizabeth. Restore her health. Comfort her. Her thoughts roamed back to 1880, when she and Roald immigrated to this new land. She’d had to fight to learn to forgive herself for losing their baby. She’d taken a fall when out hunting, something Roald hadn’t wanted her doing anyway. And then with Haakan, when she never conceived again after Astrid, she often thought perhaps God was punishing her. Thankfully those terrible days were done and gone, and she now knew with all certainty that God had forgiven her.

  But Elizabeth would most likely suffer the same doubts, especially since this was her second one to lose, although she had carried this baby longer. Doubt and guilt seemed to be the way of women when they lost a baby. Now she figured some babies died early because something was wrong with them and this was nature’s way of taking care of things. It didn’t help the hurt of the hour, however.

  She prayed her way into town and upstairs to Elizabeth’s side.

  The bloody sheets and towels told their own sad story. Thelma nodded to her and bundled the evidence up to wash.

  “Oh, my dear.” She sat on the edge of the bed and held Elizabeth in her arms to let her cry out her sorrow.

  “I lost my baby boy,” Elizabeth sobbed. “I-I can’t find Thorliff, and I …” Her mutterings dissolved in shuddering tears.

  Ingeborg’s tears of co
mfort slid down her face as she murmured mother things and stroked Elizabeth’s hair back from her sweaty fore head. When the storm lightened, she asked, “Are you still bleeding?”

  “I guess. I had Thelma help me.”

  “Not overly heavy?”

  “No. Just a few contractions and it was over. I want to bury him.”

  “You shall. And we’ll plant a tree for him, in memory.”

  “You think I did too much? Maybe I should have gone to bed or—”

  “You know that’s not true. You’ve been feeling ill for most of the pregnancy. Something just wasn’t right.” Ingeborg dipped a cloth in a basin of cool water and sponged Elizabeth’s face. “How about I give you a basin bath and you put on a clean nightdress? Then I’ll mix my brew. You drink that and you’ll sleep for a while.”

  “Inga?”

  “Astrid will keep her at our house, and I’ll stay here as long as you need me.”

  “Dearest Ingeborg, what would I do without you?”

  Ingeborg kissed her daughter-in-law’s forehead. “God gives us each other for such times as this and for every day.”

  Sometime later, with Elizabeth resting, the room straightened again, and the evening breeze puffing the sheer curtains, Ingeborg sipped the iced tea that Thelma had brought up and thought about the little boy who would never know his bestemor and bestefar, who would never run in the grass with his big sister, and who already knew the joys of heaven. “Father, I know you love him more than I could, but give him some extra love, please. He didn’t get to discover what a wonderful earth you have given us, but I realize you know what is best. I know that he is healed now of whatever was wrong, and while we are all sad, he is in your mighty hands, safe and home.” She wiped away her tears and swallowed some more tea. The footsteps she heard coming down the hall were heavy, a man’s steps. Thorliff.