An Untamed Heart

by Lauraine Snelling

  Kari came in the door carrying a bucket of water. “I got this from the spring. You put cold cloths on him before. I figured you would do so again.”

  “Thank you.” Ingeborg found herself nodding and smiling at her cousin. “You are right. We will put them around his neck and on his chest.”

  “Do you want me to help?”

  “If you like.”

  “I . . . I am sorry I was such a baby.”

  “Ah, but you came back to help. That is all that matters.” She turned toward the kitchen. “Mari, please bring us some broth. I think he is waking up.”

  His lashes fluttered again, and he blinked several times before looking at her.

  “Will you try some broth?”

  He nodded and managed to swallow five spoonfuls, a record, before he shook his head again. “Takk.” The word came raspy but intelligible. He laid his head back on the supports they had constructed and slipped into what appeared to be a gentle sleep. She and Kari soaked the cloths in the bucket of cold water and covered him with them. They took turns sitting with their patient through the afternoon and then the night.

  In the morning, when Ingeborg was finishing her shift, their patient woke and croaked a question. “Am I still alive?”

  “It appears that way. Is there anything we can get for you?”

  “Water.”

  She held the cup to his lips and, when he had swallowed a few times, laid the back of her hand on his forehead. Still hot. “Hjelmer will change the cloths again, since these are no longer cold.” But at least they weren’t drying as fast as applied. Had his fever gone down? She felt his forehead again and then laid a wet cloth over the top of his head. “Can I get you anything else?”

  When he blinked, she stood. “I’ll get Hjelmer. Hjelmer?” “He just went outside,” Mari said.

  Ingeborg stepped out into the early sunlight. Another morning. Her eyes felt raw and scratchy. While she and Mari had taken turns sitting with him through the night, she’d not slept well during her time off. Probably listening for her patient. After a deep cleansing breath, she saw Hjelmer coming from the barn.

  “Is it milking time again?”

  He nodded. “At least the cows thought so.”

  “Would you please change the cold cloths, and I believe he needs the help of a man. I think he is doing better. He’s not quite so hot.”

  “Good. I’m hungry.”

  “You and everyone else.” She let him go into the house without following him. She just needed to be outside awhile. After walking around the house three times, since she didn’t want to be far from a call, she stopped and looked up at the snowy peaks, now beginning to reflect the pink and gold of morning. Beautiful colors.

  Mari joined her. “I saved out the bones and some of the chicken in case we need to make more broth. Should I make pancakes for breakfast instead of porridge?”

  “Whatever you want to make.”

  “I’ll get the eggs and the buttermilk.”

  Ingeborg raised a hand. “Let me. I need to walk.”

  “It’s not that far.”

  Out of the mouths of babes. Not that her little sister was a baby any longer. Ingeborg ducked to enter the rock-walled springhouse and stepped down to the dirt floor where they had spread river gravel. A rock trough captured the bubbling spring water while an overflow pipe on the other side drained the water out and away from the building enough to keep the floor from turning into a swamp. Like all the other buildings, grassy sod covered its steeply pitched roof.

  Ingeborg inhaled the damp fragrance, slightly tinged with the smell of the ham and spekekjøtt hanging from the heavy beams. If one of the boys could shoot a deer, they could smoke that and hang it in here too. So far they’d not had time to go hunting or even to check on fishing. The thought of fresh trout made her mouth water. She picked out four eggs and cupped her apron to hold them. Dried egg yolk on the shells told her they had a hen eating eggs. They’d need to watch for that. The culprit might be the next for the stewpot.

  The boys could use a break before starting to shear the sheep. A fishing day would be good. A picnic for all of them at the lake was always a treat. Please, Lord, let Nils get well. I need to know I did the right thing. What little they knew of him was gleaned from the quality of his hiking gear. He had to come from a wealthy family, but until he could talk at length, they had no idea from where.

  Her patient was resting comfortably by the time she set the eggs on the table by the bowl for making pancakes. Good. “Can I help you?”

  Standing in front of the fireplace, stirring something, Mari nodded, so Ingeborg tweaked a braid as she passed on her way to check the woodbox.

  “They already filled it.”

  Ingeborg paused. “When?”

  Mari turned. “You don’t need to worry about things like that. We all know our jobs and will do them. You just take care of yours.”

  Ingeborg nodded, but she couldn’t disguise the lifted eyebrow or the twinkle that insisted on appearing. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You need to trust us.”

  Ja, that’s true. And I need to trust more than you kids. God, is this another lesson for me? You have given me such a responsibility. She thought a moment. “Who is doing the Bible verse for today?”

  “Kari.”

  “Has anyone—er—everyone been working on theirs?”

  Mari shrugged. “I have. ‘For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.’” She wrinkled her nose. “Now I can’t remember where to find it.”

  Ingeborg started to answer, but a mind that turned into a blank slate had nothing to offer her. “Guess we’ll look it up later. Ask Gunlaug.”

  “Didn’t you memorize it too?” Mari’s chin jutted out just a bit, and her eyes narrowed.

  “Ja. Years ago. Guess I need a refresher.”

  She took first watch that evening after the others went to bed. By the flickering light of the fire, she thumbed through the pages of Bible verses she’d copied and brought to the seter until she finally found it. Isaiah 41, verse 13. She would remind Mari tomorrow.

  “A drink, please.” Nils’s voice was so startling and so steady, she jumped.

  “Of course!”

  She brought him a cup of water and held it to his lips. He supported the cup with one hand and drank most of it. Then came another coughing fit. Had he accidentally inhaled a bit of water? That would be very dangerous.

  She held a cloth to his chin. “Spit it out; don’t swallow it.”

  She was dismayed to see streaks of blood in the sputum. Now what, Lord? This is beyond my experience. Surely we are not going to have another incident like yesterday.

  They made it through the next day and evening with their patient sleeping most of the time and them taking turns sitting with him, changing the cold cloths, and spooning broth into his mouth every time he woke up.

  Hjelmer came down around midnight to take his shift. “Any change?”

  “Not a lot, but he’s not worse. That is something to be grateful for.” Ingeborg retired, but she could not sleep. She relived the hours of care, the coughing, the choking. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see it happening again. What next? And what should she do if things were worse the next morning? Lord, help me!

  Ingeborg didn’t think she slept much, but when she awakened, Kari was sitting curled up beside their patient, her knees under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs, so Ingeborg must have slept the night through. Seeing Kari’s lips moving reminded Ingeborg that she’d better work on her memory verses too. Why did they not stay with her better?

  Nils seemed cooler, though he was still fevered. Mari was starting breakfast, so Ingeborg chose a sharp knife and walked down to the stream below the house to the willows there. A tangle of white willows huddled beside the water. Perfect. She chose chunks of bark from the larger limbs and branches, then some twigs, and carried them back to the house. She trimmed the bark carefully, then dropped i
t into the largest teapot in the kitchen. She poured boiling water in, laid a towel over it, and set it to steep.

  At supper that night, Gunlaug said it was time for everyone to recite the verse for the day. Jon winced and ducked his head. Tor looked up to the corners of the room, and Hamme grinned.

  “If you can’t do it yet, you have until bedtime to get ready.” Gunlaug wore her sternest teacher face. She nodded to Hamme to start. The older girls recited perfectly. By the time it got to her, Mari had the reference down too. She glanced toward her sister with a smug grin and received a well done nod.

  Tor shook his head.

  “I do not like memorizing Bible verses or anything.”

  Gunlaug frowned. “Then I will give you an extra one. You need the practice. Kari will coach you.”

  Kari glared at her brother. “You are just lazy.”

  When it was Jon’s turn, he swallowed hard and started. Partway through, he sent Gunlaug an imploring look.

  “I will help you after supper, while we are putting the loom together.”

  Ingeborg knew that Jon was having trouble at school too. No one was sure why. It wasn’t that he didn’t try hard.

  “I will help you,” Hjelmer said with a smile. “You can beat Tor any day.”

  Ingeborg watched the exchange. That’s what cousins were for, brothers and sisters too. How blessed they all were to have each other.

  After supper Jon and Anders hauled in wood for the box. “We are going to have to start splitting wood pretty soon.”

  Ingeborg nodded. Of course. “Takk. Anders, you go on out and start splitting. Tor, you help him by setting the wood in place and stacking it.”

  “I know how to split wood,” Kari told her. “Do we have two axes?”

  “We do and Far sharpened them just before we came. Tor, do you know how to use the grinding wheel to sharpen them again?”

  He nodded. “I do a lot of the wood at home.”

  At last she’d found something the boy knew how to do. Ingeborg was beginning to wonder what all her cousin did with his time.

  “Well then, as soon as your hands are healed, you can take charge of the wood splitting.”

  “Does that mean I won’t have to milk the cows?”

  “No, sorry, we all need to know how to milk. We have three more that will freshen by the end of the month.” And more calves to take care of.

  A thought came. She smiled at her little cousin. “Jon, do you want to be in charge of feeding the calves? You have to make sure the buckets are clean to feed them. Calves can get the runs real easy.”

  “Why don’t you let their mammas nurse them?”

  “We need their milk to make as much cheese as we can. Which reminds me, tomorrow we need to start the first batch of cheese. There’s enough cream now.”

  “Can we make some soft cheese too?” Mari’s eyes lit up. “We can eat that for dinner. Just think, fresh cheese on flatbrød for a treat.” She smiled and nodded.

  Ingeborg glanced over to see that Nils’s eyes were open. He must have been feeling stronger because he was looking around the room. They had left the piled bean and rice bags under him to keep him upright. She raised her voice so he could hear. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Do you need anything immediately?” He did look better. While he still had the bright cheeks of fever, the lock of hair falling across his forehead made him look far younger than his years.

  He slowly shook his head and raised a hand to cover a cough. Although his hand was unsteady, this was a big step. Something to be thankful for. Had he finally turned the corner?

  After leaving their dishes in the wash pan, they all scattered to their assigned chores. Ingeborg warmed the broth, along with the willow-bark tea. They kept a ready supply, most of it in the springhouse now. After mixing them, she took cup and spoon and sat down by Nils’s pallet.

  “You look better. Are you feeling better?”

  “Ja, a bit.”

  “Breathe deep.”

  He frowned a little. “And cough?”

  “Ja. I will do the thumping on your back later.” She dipped the spoon and fed him.

  “I . . . I think I could drink it—slow.”

  “All right.” She held the cup to his lips and tipped carefully. He swallowed three times before raising a shaky hand.

  “Sorry. I’ll slow down.” She studied his face. Besides the bad bump on the side of his head, one cheek wore a scrape, from forehead to jawline. It was already purple, but the large lump was shrinking. “Let me feel the back of your head.”

  “Angel?” he whispered.

  “Hardly.” The swelling was nearly gone, and there was no bleeding. The sputum was free of blood too. Dare she hope? “Are you ready for more to eat?” At his nod, she asked, “Spoon or cup?”

  At his slight shrug, she held the cup but for only one swallow at a time. When he started to cough, she pulled it back quickly. He sagged against the bracing when he could breathe again, then shook his head when she lifted the cup.

  “How is the headache?”

  A slight tip.

  “Worse than the leg?”

  “About the same.” His eyes fluttered.

  “Go back to sleep. That’s the best thing for you.”

  Gunlaug already had the big canvas bag open, spilling out the parts of her loom onto the floor. “We’ll put together the stand first. The legs, this part, and those two.”

  Later Ingeborg looked over at their patient while they worked to reassemble the loom. He was awake and watching them too. She smiled and went back to wrenching the bolts in place.

  The boys came in from splitting wood and demanded more to eat. Kari was coaching Jon and Tor, who brightened at the hope of dessert.

  “Something sure smells good.” Hjelmer looked toward Mari. “Griddle cakes?”

  “I’ll whip the cream as soon as it is ready. Not long.”

  The boys clunked their chairs in close to the table and waited, spoons in hand. It was very difficult, Ingeborg decided, to keep boys fed.

  On an impulse she went to the kitchen and got some brød. She held a flat bit of it toward Nils. “Do you want to try some?”

  He smiled.

  Delighted, she settled in close beside him and offered him tiny bites. He had no trouble chewing and swallowing. Good!

  When he’d had all he wanted, Ingeborg and Hjelmer returned to the loom and tightened the last of the nuts. Gunlaug gave the loom a hearty shake and grinned. “Good and solid! Tomorrow we will begin weaving the rest of last year’s yarn.”

  After the cousins enjoyed their griddle cakes with whipped cream, they all settled on the floor by Ingeborg’s chair. She opened her book to the story she’d started the second night after they’d arrived. It was a silly thing, just a light bit of folklore, but everyone seemed to love it. The young hero, little Butterball, outsmarted his huge dim-witted enemy, a troll. Intelligence again triumphed over brute force, and she thought once more of the way they had rescued their patient.

  The children went to bed, as did Gunlaug, and Ingeborg stayed at Nils’s side. He finally drifted off into a restless sleep, or perhaps he was just dozing. A couple of hours later, Ingeborg was just getting ready to turn the watch over to Kari when Nils started to cough. The prolonged effort left him gasping. The sputum she wiped from his chin had bits of red in it again. Blood. Was it just from the coughing or something worse?

  14

  Several hours later Nils’s coughing wrenched Ingeborg from a sound sleep, so she descended the ladder to check on him. Hjelmer was sitting with him, so it wouldn’t be long until it was time to get up anyway.

  Nils was panting from the effort, but in between puffs, he tried to smile. At least that’s what she thought it was.

  “He slept good up until a few minutes ago. I changed the wet cloths, but they stay wet now.”

  “Good. You go sleep for a while. The others will take care of the milking and chores. Thank you for taking your turn.” She laid the back of her hand against
Nils’s sweaty forehead. Not bad, not bad at all. Had they finally beaten the fever? She smiled at their patient. “I know after coughing like that, it might not seem like it, but I believe you have turned the corner. For a while I was afraid you might not make it.”

  “Me too.” The hoarse croak could be heard, at least.

  “Can I get you some broth?” He shook his head. “Water?” At another shake she asked, “What would you like?”

  “Coffee?”

  “Sorry, the fireplace is not hot enough yet. But I will get it going. Although the water in the kettle by the fire might still be warm.” He nodded, so she retrieved a cup of warm water and held it for him to drink, being careful to keep it slow. When he signaled that he’d had enough, she asked, “Did that help soothe your throat?” Even his nodding was stronger. “Coughing like that rips your throat apart but sure helps your lungs.”

  Her curiosity grew stronger every time she talked with him, or rather to him, like right now. Who was he and where was he from? He liked to read, she assumed. There were two books in his packsack: one looked like a college textbook and the other was by a man named Voltaire. Since she’d glanced through it, looking for information about the owner, she knew it was in French. So Nils was an educated man, or a young man getting an education. His hands did not appear to have done much physical labor.

  “Takk.” His whisper made her look at his face.

  “You are welcome.” She stood and went to throw more wood on the fire. Since Mari had banked it well, there were plenty of coals to start the new one. Last night she had almost decided to send Hjelmer down to Valdres for Mor, but now she changed her mind. As far as she could tell by probing the bone in his leg, it was not misaligned. It was hard to tell with all the swelling. Please, God, make it so. She had seen the doctor set a bone once but had not realized how much strength it took to get the bone in place. Good thing he had been unconscious. An even better thing that they all worked hard so they had strong muscles, and God had given them wisdom and all they needed.

  What was Mor going to say about all this? Would she take her daughter along on birthing calls now? Ingeborg felt her jaw tighten. Even the thought of that made her angry again. I want to learn all I can. I want to learn all she can teach me. Why? The whys beat in her head while she made the coffee.