A Touch of Grace

by Lauraine Snelling

  The porch at the boardinghouse seemed the most probable place to see him. She hoped he’d come by alone. Once the threshing crew moved away from Blessing, she could take some time to go visit Sophie and, hopefully, talk with Toby. With her mind made up, she carried the basket of carrots she’d been picking to the well house and dumped it all in the bucket of water. Sitting and scrubbing in the cool of the well house would be a welcome reprieve from the hot sun.

  But what about the school Jonathan had told her about? She’d asked her mother, who said she had received excellent advice and assistance from the teachers there.

  “Have you ever thought of going there?” Grace had asked her mother.

  “Dreamed of it a few times, but I knew there was no way I could leave my family in the summer nor the school in the winter. It’s just never been possible.”

  “Jonathan has invited me to go east with him and either attend or visit the school.” She watched her mother’s face.

  “Really.” It wasn’t a question. Her eyes took on that faraway look that said she was thinking hard. “Do you want to go?”

  “Not really.” Not if Toby … You cannot … The interior argument started up again.

  As if it ever quit. Grace stuck her hands in the scrub water to rinse the dirt off. At least if she was working with deaf students, she would be accomplishing something of value. “Would it help you and the school if I went?”

  “That is something to think about. I can’t answer that right off. I’ll have to pray about it. Perhaps it would be nice to learn some new methods so we can help our students more.”

  Grace nodded. “I’ll have to pray about it” was one of her mother’s stock answers. Perhaps if God talked with her as much as He did with her mother, she might be more inclined to pray more frequently. She almost made that comment to her mother but thought the better of it. Right then she hadn’t felt like listening to a sermon.

  The threshing crew pulled out at daybreak to be ten miles south by the time the dew was dry. Jonathan grinned at her and waved from the seat on a wagon. Since no one was needed at home to milk and work in the cheese house, he was going along for the first two days, and then he’d ride back and get ready to leave for New York City.

  Grace waved back and glanced up at her mother, who, as always, had tears in her eyes and was praying for the safety and success of the entire venture. She tucked her arm through her mother’s and turned her toward Ingeborg’s house. With her on one side, Astrid on the other, and Ingeborg on Astrid’s far side, the four of them locked arms and headed for the house. Coffee and a long chat were long overdue.

  Later in the morning she and Astrid walked toward town, Grace to the boardinghouse, Astrid to assist in the surgery.

  “When do you leave for school?” Grace signed.

  “I’m not going.”

  “What?” Grace spoke and signed both, a sure indication she was startled or concerned. She stopped so Astrid had to turn to look at her. “When did you decide this?”

  “The last few days.” Astrid picked up a lump of dirt and heaved it out into the field. “I think Mor needs me here. I’d rather they spent every dime from the harvest on replacing the cattle, and I can learn all I need to know from Elizabeth. She’s always said that, but she wanted me to go to Chicago. I don’t want to go there.”

  “Have you told Tante Ingeborg?”

  Astrid shook her head. “So keep this secret, all right?”

  “Sure.” You could talk with Astrid about Toby. She brushed the thought aside. She’d kept the secret this long. A little longer wouldn’t hurt. Except that Astrid was going to be hurt by her not talking about this all along. However, after the earlier fiasco, most likely everyone knew about her feelings anyway. Why did things have to be so difficult?

  The two girls split and went their separate ways. Grace understood how Astrid felt but she also knew Astrid really wanted to be trained, and school was her best opportunity.

  Grace continued her musing as she neared the boardinghouse. Was she being selfish by not going to New York? Could she learn enough there to help her family? But first she needed to settle this with Toby, to tell him her real feelings. Grace wished she’d worn shoes, instead of coming in barefoot, and had put on a nicer dress, but then she would have had to answer a barrage of questions. At least she had pinned up her hair, ostensibly because it was cooler, but really because she hoped it made her look older. She’d left her apron at home too. As she walked around the boardinghouse to the back porch, she admired the black-eyed Susans and delphiniums that bloomed along the base of the porch. While Bridget had planted some of the flowers, it looked like Sophie had added others. The pink and red hollyhocks along the back were helping to shade the porch.

  Mrs. Sam sat in the big rocker, fanning herself and rocking the twins’ cradle with one foot. “Mornin,’ Miss Grace.”

  “Mrs. Sam, is that really you sitting down?” Grace mounted the three steps.

  “Now don’t you go gettin’ a smart mouth like that sister of yours. She said I was to take a rest. Huh!” The final word said what she thought of the order.

  “It’s nice out here with the shade from the tree.” Grace peeked in the cradle, where the two babies were lying spoon fashion, in spite of the heat, and wearing nothing but diapers. Cheesecloth draped the cradle to keep the flies off them.

  “You go on in but watch your step. That sister of yours is on a toot today.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “No fresh milk, no cream, that what she ordered din’t come in on the train. She got into a huff with dat new man at de store.” Mrs. Sam leaned forward. “He offered to sell her hard liquor to serve here.” Her eyes rounded. “Dat man not good for Blessing, you mark my words.”

  Grace drew back. “You are not serious?”

  “I am de most serious. My Sam, workin’ in de blacksmith shop, he heard rumors ’bout someone buyin’ some there.”

  Grace almost wished she’d waited for another day but opened the squeaky screen door and headed into the kitchen, where Lily Mae was taking bread out of the oven and Sophie was chopping onions.

  At the slam of the door Sophie turned and, seeing Grace, replaced a frown with a smile. “You are just in time.” She mopped her onion tears on her apron.

  “To do what?”

  “To rinse the lettuce and slice the carrots really fine for the salad. Dinner will be served in less than an hour, and we’re not quite ready.” She switched to sign. “Mrs. Sam was leaning on the table, and I think she was feeling faint again, so I sent her out to take care of the twins.”

  “I see.” Grace nodded. “Good old Grace” could always be counted on to pitch in. But ignoring the little barb, she did just that. She helped through the afternoon until just before five, when she knew the men would be getting off work. “I have an errand to run,” she signed to Sophie, now nursing her babies in the chair in what used to be her bedroom but was now kept as a private sitting room.

  “You’ll be back?” Sophie asked.

  Grace nodded. She glanced in the mirror, tucked a stray strand of hair back in her roll, and left the room, hanging her apron on the peg by the door. She closed the door behind her to give Sophie privacy and slipped out onto the front porch to sit in the rocker there. Blue morning glory climbing strings from the porch railing to hooks in the ceiling helped shade the porch, making her feel like she could peer out at the real world. Would Toby see her waiting? Would he come that way today? Perhaps she should have brought some handwork with her. Or a pitcher of lemonade. Please, please come by yourself.

  Through the vines she watched the mill. Several men came out but not Toby. When the door opened again, her heartbeat picked up. Still no Toby. What if he hadn’t gone to work today? What if he no longer worked there? The door opened and Garth walked out with Toby. Now what would she do? Could nothing work in her favor? She watched them walk down the street, still talking. Garth would turn into the boardinghouse most likely. And he would find her sitt
ing here in front rather than in the back, where they usually gathered.

  “Come on in for some lemonade.”

  She saw Garth’s offer and saw Toby start to refuse and then change his mind. Where could she go? They’d see her run away now. She searched the porch, her eyes darting around. Nothing to hide behind. Sucking in a deep breath, she stood and stepped in front of the door as though she’d just come out.

  “Why, Grace, how good to see you.” Garth’s smile was genuine. If only Toby would smile like that too, instead of the polite, slightly guarded look he gave her.

  This was not the right or best thing to do. She wished she were anywhere but there right now. Why had she ever thought this was a good idea?

  “I-I was just on my way home.”

  “I hope you and Sophie had a fine time. I’m just about to drag her and the babies home for the evening.”

  “Thanks, Garth, think I’ll pass on the offer tonight.” Toby touched his hat and turned to go on down the street.

  “ ’Night, Garth.” Without further pause Grace stalked down the stairs. “May I walk with you, Toby?”

  Toby nodded, but while he slowed, he didn’t stop.

  Grace caught up with him, wishing she had the courage to put her arm through his. With his hands in his front pockets, it would be so easy. Just slip her hand in the crook of his elbow and …

  Instead, she broke the silence. “You must be awfully busy lately.”

  He nodded. “I have been.”

  “No time to even visit with all your friends?”

  “Not much.”

  “Seemed strange not to have you helping with the harvest.”

  “I know. Felt strange.”

  “They left this morning.”

  “I saw them.”

  “Toby, last time we talked, I wasn’t able to tell you something.”

  Grace felt like a cat with a fur ball in her mouth.

  “Grace, you didn’t tell anyone about what I said, did you? That was private between us.”

  Grace was too nervous to speak. She signed no.

  Toby instantly relaxed and smiled. “Thanks. I knew I could trust you. It’s becoming really serious, and I want to make sure before I tell my mother. I might actually become a married man.” He laughed. “Could you ever imagine that?”

  Imagine it? That’s what she had imagined all summer. All Grace’s carefully thought-out words burst inside her like the fires after the plague hit. The nausea returned like shooting embers. She was too late.

  She looked at his contentment and forced the words through her fingers. “I hope you will be happy. I have to go now.” And then she ran.

  “HOW DID YOU FIGURE WHERE I WAS?” Ingeborg said, lifting her tear-stained face.

  “I looked everywhere—even over to Tante Kaaren’s.” Astrid took down a milk stool from the wall and sat down by her mother. “What’s wrong?”

  Ingeborg wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “I just missed the cows so much I came out here. Seemed as good a place to cry as any.” She shook her head slowly from side to side, feeling as if she were pushing heavy weights. “Now with the crew gone, I guess I just have too much time on my hands. No cows, no sheep, no pigs. This farm seems empty, like all the family is gone and the barns might blow away too.”

  Astrid leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder. “You have us.”

  “Good thing, isn’t it?” Ingeborg put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “But you’ll be going away soon, and that leaves just your pa and me.”

  “You have Inga and Carl, and there’ll be lots more little ones. Besides, it’s not as if I’ll be gone forever. In fact, maybe I won’t be gone at all.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I can’t make up my mind. I know I don’t want to go to Chicago.” She ticked off one finger. “I know I want to be a nurse.” Second tick. “But Dr. Elizabeth says I can train here. If I want to be a doctor, she’ll teach me all she knows.” Third finger. “But something in me wants to go away to school too.” She laid her hands in her lap, fingers entwined. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I think you should ask God what He wants for you, and then wait until you have a definite answer.”

  “I have and He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. And school costs a lot of money, and we—”

  “Wait a minute,” Ingeborg interrupted. “Are you thinking we can’t afford to help you with school?”

  “Well, it is going to cost a lot to replace the livestock, if we do, and I …”

  “Don’t you know that Elizabeth has offered to pay for your school, since she wants you to work with her?”

  “No. But even so …” Astrid paused. “Did she really say that?”

  “Both she and Thorliff have come to me on separate occasions and said they would pay.”

  Astrid cocked her head and smiled in the dimness. “We have a good family, huh, Mor?”

  “That we do, and I need to get about caring for my fine family rather than crying in an empty barn.” She stroked Astrid’s braid, which hung halfway down her back. “I know better than to let that black pit come even close to me. But sometimes the sadness just sneaks in and I forget that God is in control and we are His sheep.”

  “I always wonder about those verses. Sheep aren’t very smart, and they are really smelly. They get ticks in their wool, and they don’t always herd the way they should. Calling us His sheep isn’t really a compliment.”

  Ingeborg chuckled. How this daughter of hers could come up with such things, she’d never know. “But the people of Jesus’ time were a lot of them farmers and sheepherders, so they understood Him when He told such stories.”

  “I understand that part, but—” Astrid rose and, in one smooth motion, picked up her stool and hung it back on the peg—“I don’t really miss the sheep. The cows and pigs yes, but not the sheep.” She reached out a hand and pulled her mother up. “Now, the chickens … nobody better touch my chickens.”

  Arm in arm they strolled out of the barn. Astrid turned and shut the door behind them, dropping the board latch into place. “Mor, do you think there is something wrong with Far?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “He seems to get tired easily, and sometimes I catch him leaning against something as if he needs help.”

  “I know. I see the same things, and yet we are all getting older.” Dear God, I hope that is all it is.

  “But sometimes his color isn’t good either.”

  Ingeborg smiled inside. This was her daughter talking, speaking the medical things that had always fascinated her, learning the new ways from Elizabeth, yet she had grown up on the old ways of using natural herbs to fight sickness and disease. “I will try to talk to him again, but he keeps saying he is fine, just a little tired. Maybe we should try to get Elizabeth to talk to him.”

  “I’ll ask her today.”

  “I wonder sometimes what great things you will see. Changes in the medical field are happening so fast.”

  “And Elizabeth wants to keep up with it all, but between caring for all who come to her and her family, she just hasn’t the time. Have you thought of helping her on a regular basis?” Astrid asked.

  “I’ve thought of it, but I don’t want to intrude. We don’t do things the same way.” Ingeborg stopped by the well house. “I’m not too old to learn new things if she is willing to teach me.”

  “I could share with you the books she has given me. I have almost all the human bones memorized and most of the muscles. Did you know that our hands and feet have the most joints and bitty muscles? I’m having a hard time with the nerves.”

  “If I have to memorize all that, I’ll stay home and knit or sew.”

  Ingeborg glanced up to see Grace striding up the road and past their lane. She looked like she was stomping locusts, the way her feet pounded the ground.

  Astrid turned to see what she was looking at. “Uh-oh.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Grac
e like that.”

  “I have. It takes a lot to make her mad, but when she is, look out.”

  “I wonder what is wrong?”

  The next morning Grace told her mother she had promised to go back and help Sophie again.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” Kaaren asked.

  “No.” Grace’s fingers slashed the air, along with an emphatic shake of her head.

  “You seem upset.”

  “I’ll get over it.” At least she hoped so. Lying awake most of the night had done nothing to make the pain lessen. Crying or fuming— there seemed no middle ground.

  “Perhaps you should stay and help me and Ilse work on the lesson plans for school.”

  “I will tomorrow. I didn’t see Grant yesterday, and I like to play with him and Linnie. Sophie spends so much time at the boarding-house that he doesn’t get a lot of attention.”

  “Oh, his tante Helga takes good care of him.”

  “We need to bring them out here more.” Grace grabbed a straw hat off the peg. “You could come too.”

  Kaaren hugged her daughter. “I hope you have a good day.”

  Anything would be better than yesterday. She’d replayed Toby’s words so many times, they were engraved on her mind.

  “Stubborn does not become you.”

  Grace caught the glare before it reached her face. Talk to your mother warred with Handle this yourself, you’re a woman now. By the time she’d walked to town, she felt a bit more resigned. Surely she’d be able to talk with Sophie. After all, she’d been in love—twice.

  Sophie was still at home when Grace opened the back screen door and entered the kitchen. Both babies were crying. Linnie looked like she was about to cry, and Grant was hiding under the table. “What is going on?”

  “You take those two, and I’ll nurse these two. That should settle things.” Sophie, hair halfway up in the roll on one side, the other tangled and flying, pointed to the little girl in the high chair.

  Grace bent down to smile at Grant, still under the table. “You want to come out and tell me what happened?”