A Touch of Grace

by Lauraine Snelling

  “They’ll be another week, at least.”

  When the dishes were done and put in their places, Astrid set the lard crock and a large crockery bowl on the table, then went for the flour. Measuring enough for six crusts, she cut the lard into the flour and salt until it was the size of peas, then added water. With the dough in a ball, she cut it in six wedges and, forming one into a flat round in her hands, dusted the board with flour and began rolling the crust. She flipped it over, patched a small tear with extra dough and a bit of water, and started rolling again. When the crust reached the correct size, she lifted it into a pie pan. She’d just finished the first two that were for the single crust custard pies when her mother returned from the garden with the rhubarb.

  Together they chopped, beat the custard mixture of eggs, sugar, and cream, and poured most of it into the two pie shells and the rest over the rhubarb. With the top crusts rolled and spread over the rhubarb filling, Astrid crimped the edges, cut slits in the top, and slid the pies into the oven.

  The fragrance of rabbit browning in bacon grease permeated the kitchen. Astrid rolled out the remaining bits of pie dough, sprinkled them with cinnamon and sugar, and set the tin on the upper rack of the oven. She and her mother would have piecrust cookies in time to take a back-porch break. After she took water and food to the men.

  “Where’s Grace?” Ingeborg asked as she shaped the bread dough into loaves.

  “She was going to help Sophie today.”

  “What are they doing now?” Ingeborg realized she hadn’t had a talk with Kaaren lately to catch up on all the news since the wedding.

  “I guess some furniture arrived on the train from Onkel Olaf and Sophie wanted her to see it. And—” Astrid paused for effect—“they are wallpapering the babies’ room so the furniture can go in there. I hope he made a cradle big enough for both of them.”

  “I still remember how Sophie and Grace would only sleep well when they were in the same bed. One was always touching the other.”

  “Do twins always have more twins?”

  “Not necessarily, but some do.”

  “Grace is the closest I have to a sister.”

  “You have Ellie.”

  “But she’s different since she and Andrew got married. We never have time to talk about things anymore. Especially since Carl came.” Astrid paused in her sandwich making to look at her mother. “You and Tante Kaaren make sure you have time to talk.”

  “I was just thinking how we’ve not done so lately. Usually one of us crosses the field almost every day in the summer but not this year.”

  Silence but for the birdsong from outside floated in the kitchen.

  “Mor, do you mind if I go away to school this fall?”

  “Of course I mind, but that can’t keep you from going if that is what you really want to do.”

  “I don’t want to go clear to Chicago like Dr. Elizabeth wants me to do. I could never come home then.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You can go to the nursing school in Grand Forks, or you can get what training you need right here in Blessing. Elizabeth said she can train you, and she already has been. She thinks you could possibly go for only one year, you are so far ahead of other students.”

  “I wish I knew what was going to happen.”

  “Ja.” Ingeborg nodded. “We all wish that, but God in His mercy opens the door only far enough so we can see the next step. That way we don’t get frightened and run and hide.”

  “If I go away for school, home will never be the same again, will it?” Astrid tucked the sandwiches into a basket, added a napkin of cookies, and hoisted the can she’d already filled with water.

  “No, home won’t be the same, but it will still be home until you marry and begin your own home.”

  “There’s no one here I want to marry. I’d be back soon. I think I will miss everyone more than Sophie did. And how hard will it be for Grace by herself?” Astrid asked, heading out the door.

  Ingeborg went to the window and watched her daughter stride out to the fields. So capable and strong and yet still young inside. Lord, thank you that I don’t know what the years will bring. But please put a hedge of protection around her, both body and heart. I know you love her even more than I do, but I can’t figure that much. So thank you.

  She removed the pan of pie-crust cookies from the oven and set it on the counter. One of the rhubarb pies was running over, sizzling on the oven floor. The crusts weren’t brown enough yet, so she closed the oven door and put more wood in the firebox. She wiped away the sweat on forehead and neck with her apron and turned the pieces of rabbit over. The dough for noodles lay rolled flat on the board, so she gave it another couple of passes with the rolling pin, then dusted the surface with flour, and starting at one edge, rolled the dough into a long tube. She washed the scissors and cut the tube into half-inch sections and flipped each roll loose. After hanging as many of the noodles as possible on the rack behind the stove, she fluffed up those left on the table so they could dry too and headed for the garden to pick the lettuce.

  With an apron of lettuce she returned to the house, dumped it in the sink to wash, and checked on the pies. The rhubarbs were done. She moved them to the counter and took a table knife to cut into the custard pies to see if they were done. The knife came out clean, so she took them out, removed one of the racks, and slid the four loaf pans of bread inside.

  Back in the garden she pulled some of the crowded stalks of corn from each hill, and once she had a handful, she wandered out to the pasture. The new cow lay off by herself under one of the oak trees. Ingeborg opened the gate and, after closing it behind her, strolled toward the cow, taking her time so the animal wouldn’t bolt before she got close enough to look at her.

  The dusty brown cow with a few white markings watched her with ears forward, head up. Ingeborg held out the stalks of corn and slowed to a creep. Whenever the cow threatened to move, she stopped and rustled the corn. Several of the other cows stood, and one took a few steps toward her.

  “Easy girl, how about some fresh corn? Beats anything in the pasture.” Not that they’d grazed all the pasture down either. She stopped a few feet away from the cow, who had yet to stand, and looked her over. She seemed healthy. Extending the corn, she edged closer.

  The cow heaved her rear end in the air and rose slowly to her feet. She stretched her head forward, took the corn, and chewed while watching Ingeborg. The other cows gathered round, and Ingeborg gave out the rest of her bounty before returning to the gate and thence to her kitchen by way of the well house, where she picked up a full butter mold from the shelf to serve at dinner. She should have made the cow walk to see the limp.

  Astrid breezed back into the kitchen a bit later and snatched up three of the pie crust pieces. Talking around the one in her mouth, she invited her mother to join her on the back porch. Which she did.

  “So how is Jonathan doing?” Ingeborg asked.

  “His windrows are looking straighter as he goes along. He said Andrew is a good teacher.”

  “We all know that. How’s the mowing going?”

  “Lars has his mower up in the machine shed. I don’t know what happened. Pa said thanks, drank, took his sandwich, and kept on going.”

  Ingeborg ate her cookie and dusted her fingers on her apron. “Some things never change.”

  Later that afternoon she went back out to look at the cow, only to find her in about the same place, lying down again. “Well, girl, we’ll give you a good looking over tonight when you are in the stanchion. Maybe you have an infection in your hoof or something.” She tossed another corn treat in front of the cow and headed back for the house. She would cut up the leftover rabbit into the noodles with a cream sauce and throw in a jar of canned beans.

  That night after milking, Haakan and Ingeborg brought out a lantern to look closely at the cow’s feet. Haakan prodded the bottom of the hoof, and the cow tried to pull it away.

  “It’s tender, but I can’t see anything. There�
��s no cut.” He sniffed the foot. “No infection.” He felt her ears and nose, but all seemed normal.

  “How about we soak that foot in a bucket of warm soapy water? If there is an infection, that might draw it out.”

  “I’ll try that. At least it’s a front hoof. We’d most likely have to throw her to soak a back one.”

  “I’ll send Jonathan out with a bucket of water.” Ingeborg headed back to the house. Supper should have already been on the table, and here she was out with a limping cow. But then, which was more important? Healthy livestock or hungry men? She was glad she didn’t have to leave out either.

  The next morning the cow didn’t eat her grain, and Andrew reported the heifer was limping too. Haakan held the cow’s head while Andrew pried open her mouth. Ingeborg stood behind Andrew, trying to see over his shoulder.

  “What are you looking for?” Jonathan asked.

  “Spots on her tongue. Looks kind of like big cold sores.”

  “Put her in the corral and bring the heifer back here too,” Haakan directed.

  “What do you think it is?” Ingeborg asked.

  Haakan shook his head. “I hope to heaven it isn’t what I’m thinking. Hoof and mouth disease.”

  “But that’s contagious, terribly so,” Andrew said. “Cattle die from it.”

  “I know.”

  “So what do we do to treat it?”

  “I don’t know if there is any treatment.”

  Ingeborg heard the despair in his voice. What had she done by buying the cows?

  When Grace left the boardinghouse and turned toward home she saw Toby, standing almost as if he’d been waiting for her. In books she’d read about feminine wiles to be used on men. While she was sure Sophie knew what they were, right now she’d give about anything for one.

  “Hi, Grace,” he signed. “Can I walk with you a bit?”

  She nodded. A little ripple seemed to run through her stomach. Finally he had come to find her.

  They walked a while without talking, and then he stopped and turned to look at her.

  “Grace, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  Oh good.

  “First, I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you. That was no way to treat a friend. But I was so surprised, I wasn’t sure how to act.”

  Grace was confused. Did she understand his words correctly? Why would he not know how to act?

  “I thought, since we’ve been good friends for a long time, you’d like to be the first to know.”

  Already she could tell this wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  “I met a woman from Grafton, and I think I’m in love.”

  She focused on his chin, unable to get her gaze any higher for fear he’d see the tears fighting to burst forth. “Oh.” She forced herself to at least look at his mouth, so she could see what he was saying, but his fingers continued the signing and she didn’t have to let him see what he was doing to her.

  “I wanted to tell you, thanks for being such a good friend all these years. You stood by me, and I value that.”

  “I wish you all the blessings you deserve.” She forced herself to smile. “Guess I better get on home, Mor will be wondering where I am, after all she needs help, and I …” She knew she was running on like water from the pump when the wind was blowing the windmill. Unable to get more words past the lump that bounced up from somewhere, she signed good-bye and headed down the road to home. The urge to turn and look at him one more time fought with the tears that coursed down her cheeks. Toby loved someone else. No wonder he was never around. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry herself so dry she’d blow away like dandelion down on a puff of breeze.

  Suddenly she realized she was almost home, and Astrid was in front of her. There was no way she could hide her tears.

  “Oh, Grace, you’ve already heard. It is so frightening. I don’t remember ever seeing my parents look so worried. What will our families do if it’s true?”

  Grace tried to absorb that the breeze she wished for had suddenly become a storm.

  HAYING DIDN’T LET UP for the tragedy going on around them.

  Haakan sent a telegram to the agriculture department at the college in Grand Forks. Ingeborg prayed that the diagnosis was not what they feared, but this time God either didn’t respond or failed to hear. She wasn’t sure which. The reply: It was the dreaded hoof and mouth disease that had wiped out the cattle of entire nations in other parts of the world. While the letter that followed was long and full of statistics, the remedy remained the same. Since the disease was so contagious it could be carried on the wind, the only way to keep it from spreading eastward was to destroy all cloven-hoofed animals.

  Reports were trickling in from the west of other outbreaks, but the news did nothing to cheer Ingeborg. She had bought the diseased cattle. Haakan had not wanted more cows, but she had gone ahead anyway. Guilt was a bitter bed partner.

  “It would most likely have come here anyway,” Haakan told her more than once, but she couldn’t seem to hear him.

  The men were bringing the first load of hay into the barn when the sheriff from Grafton rode into their yard.

  “Mornin’, Mr. Bjorklund,” he called from horseback.

  Haakan sank the tongs of the hay sling into the hay and signaled for the lift. “Morning.” He slid to the ground and approached the officer. “What can I do for you today?”

  The man shook his head. “I hate to do this to you, but I been so ordered. All cloven-hoofed animals are to be destroyed. I see you’ve not started that yet, and every day you resist, the disease can spread further. You got to shoot ’em all and burn or bury the carcasses, and you got to do it now.”

  “Has it spread more?”

  “We’re hoping to stop it at the river, but you’re not the only one that’s got it. It came from the west. We think from some steers brought up from Texas on a train.” He tipped his hat back. “I got to say, this is about the hardest job I’ve ever had to do.”

  “Sheep and pigs too?”

  “And goats. What could carry it over is deer. We can stop the transport of cattle, but the wild animals—that’s a different story. I have hunters out shooting all they can find. I know you got to get your hay up, but this has to be taken care of right away.”

  “Not much sense in haying if we have nothing to feed it to.” Haakan turned to Andrew. “Go get the guns and ammunition.”

  Ingeborg stood back from the others, listening to the sheriff’s edict. Did he not understand he was destroying her cheese house? A good part of their livelihood? And that of their neighbors? Tears rained down her face and choked her throat.

  She turned back to the house, one step ahead of Andrew, and marched up the steps. Going to the gun cabinet, she opened the door and handed the rifles back to Andrew. Drawing out the box of bullets, she filled the remaining gun she’d held back.

  “You don’t have to do this, Mor.” Andrew’s jaw wore the look of steel.

  “Ja, I do.”

  “It would have come even if you’d not bought those two. It isn’t your fault. The sheriff said so.”

  She nodded and held on to the rifle. “Let’s go.”

  Haakan took one look at her face and kept his thoughts to him-self. “We’ll herd them to that depression out in the pasture. Bring some grain, Jonathan. We’ll scatter it so they settle down.”

  “What about the sheep?”

  “Same thing. We’ll have to shoot the pigs in the pens and haul them out there. I hope Mr. Jeffers has plenty of kerosene. Astrid, take the wagon and go to the store. Get what you can.”

  Astrid nodded, rivulets of tears streaking her face. “Where was the sheriff going from here?”

  “Calling on all the farmers. He didn’t single us out. Just one of those things that has to be done. Let’s get at it.”

  “Can’t we milk first?” Astrid asked.

  “It’s too soon. They wouldn’t have enough to make it worth our while. Let’s just get it over wit
h.”

  Ingeborg walked beside him, feeling stiff, as though none of her joints wanted to bend. The rifle hung heavy in her hand.

  Jonathan brought two buckets of oats from the grain bin and joined the group. His face looked frozen cold. They stopped at the fence to see the milk cows grazing, the scene peaceful like any other day. Gunshots resounded in the distance. Some of the cows smelled the grain and ambled over to the free meal, a few of them limping. Several looked but didn’t bother to get up. Barney barked and nipped them until they staggered to their feet and over to the rest.

  Within five minutes, the entire herd lay dead. Barney and Andrew brought out the sheep, and in spite of their milling and bleating, they dropped at the volley.

  Ingeborg threw down her rifle and headed for the house. Lord, this is too much. You’ve taken away it all. I thought you were a merciful God and protected your people. We have tried to do what you say, but this is too much. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared through her tears at the floor. Now the shots were coming from the barns, Andrew’s barn and Lars’, where they kept the weaned calves.

  The stench of burning flesh hung over the region in a pall of smoke.

  Pastor Solberg called a special service to try to comfort his people.

  “I can’t go,” Ingeborg told him when he came by to announce it.

  “Yes you can. And you will.” He took her hand. “God has promised to walk through the valley with us. While this is not our own death, this is surely a valley of death, and He is here, right in the midst.”

  Ingeborg shook her head. “I can’t find Him.”

  “No, but He is finding you. Just like He is finding all of us. He has seen us through floods and blizzards, through sickness and despair. God has said, ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ He never changes. He lives up to His Word.” Pastor Solberg looked her in the eye. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at seven.”