Icecutter's Daughter, The

by Tracie Peterson

  Addie was most unhappy with the situation. “I’m sorry, girl.” Merrill felt the birth canal relax a bit and hurried to do what she could to help the horse. After a few more contractions, during which she managed to twist the unborn foal into a different position, Merrill felt the leg straighten at last. “I’ve got it.” She pulled away from the mare just as another contraction started.

  “No wonder she’s been at this for so long,” Merrill said, rubbing her hand to get the blood flowing again.

  “Things ought to go a sight faster now.”

  Merrill nodded and watched the progress with a practiced eye. Addie labored to expel the baby from her body. After a time, both legs appeared as well as a hint of muzzle. Addie panted and fought against the pain. Without warning she scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking Zadoc backward.

  “Watch out!” Merrill said, knowing that a horse in the pains of birth could be quite unpredictable.

  Zadoc didn’t seem to mind, however. He took hold of Addie’s bridle and spoke in a soothing manner. Meanwhile, the mare continued to contract.

  Addie was progressing, but the time dragged on, and Merrill could see that the mare was tired. Poor horse had been laboring hard for hours due to the bent leg. “I’m going to help her,” Merrill declared. “You hold her tight. I’ll try to pull a bit. Maybe we can get this baby born.”

  The little legs were slick from fluid, making it hard for her to get a good grasp. Merrill’s leather gloves were in her coat pocket on the back of the porch, however, and there was no time to retrieve them. She saw the horse bear down, while at the same time trying to move away from the pain. Unfortunately for Addie, there was no way to distance herself from the labor.

  Merrill pulled on the legs just enough to help ease the head from the birth canal. She pulled back the birthing sack and could see a lovely white blaze down the baby’s nose. “Gonna be a beauty, Addie girl. Just keep pushing.”

  Zadoc continued to murmur in the mare’s ear while Merrill worked to help the baby. Before Merrill knew what was happening, the mare gave one more heave, and the foal slid out quickly. Merrill took the foal in her arms but lost her balance and fell backward against the wall of the stall. The warm, wet horse lay perfectly still in her arms, and Merrill wasted no time. She ran her hand into the baby’s mouth to expel the mucus and fluid, then began to rub it furiously to stimulate it to breathe. It was only a moment before the tiny animal responded.

  “Looks like we got us a little girl,” Zadoc said, coming to help Merrill. “Probably a good thing, too.”

  “Why’s that?” Merrill asked, struggling to ease the foal onto the straw so that Addie could tend her. Merrill got to her feet with the help of her brother and looked at him with a frown. “Why is it such a good thing it’s a girl?”

  “Well, what with your pretty bonnet and all, I think a boy might take offense.”

  Merrill had forgotten all about the new bonnet. “Is it ruined?” she asked, not wanting to touch it with her slimy hands.

  “It looks right nice,” Zadoc replied. “But maybe a little fancy to wear to birth a foal.”

  Chapter 2

  “What do you mean, you’re leaving for Minnesota?”

  Rurik Jorgenson looked down at the small blond-haired woman and tried to offer a sympathetic smile. “Just what I said, Svea. Uncle Carl needs my help. He’s been sickly of late and asked if I could come and lend a hand. Since he and my Farfar Jorgenson taught me to make furniture, it seems only right that I do what I can.”

  “But I’m sure Grandfather Jorgenson meant for you to use those skills here, not in Minnesota. That’s so far away. What about me? Everyone expects us to marry.”

  Svea’s pout made her look rather childish, but she didn’t seem to care. For Rurik, it only confirmed his decision. She was much too young to marry. He had wanted to talk to Svea about delaying their engagement for a long time, but this wasn’t the place. Not here in the middle of town with her brother Nils standing beside her.

  “I shouldn’t be gone too long,” Rurik said. “Maybe just a few months. It will give you time . . .” He let the words trail off. He’d very nearly spoken of her immaturity, suggesting she needed time to grow up. “Besides,” he began again, “I need to learn all I can before Nils and I open our own furniture business. I know a great deal about making furniture, but very little about keeping the books and dealing with customers.”

  “I have plenty of experience in that area,” Nils offered quickly. “You forget I keep the books for my father’s dairy. I can teach you all you need to know. There’s no need for you to go—”

  “The need is Carl’s.” Rurik shook his head. “He hasn’t been well, and he has specifically asked me to come. I don’t feel I can say no.”

  “You just want to get away from our engagement,” Svea said, folding her gloved hands together. “And after all that our fathers did to work out this arrangement.”

  “That’s . . . partly the problem,” Rurik said. “Our fathers decided it would be good for us to marry. You and I have had very little to say about it. I think the time apart will do us good.”

  “See?” Svea said, her eyes tearing up. She turned to Nils. “He wants to put an end to our engagement.”

  “That’s not what I said,” Rurik protested. He looked at Nils. “I don’t think this is the best time and place to discuss the matter.”

  “Why not?” Svea said, her voice rising. She waved her hands in both directions. “Why not let all of Lindsborg, Kansas, know that you no longer care for me.”

  “Because that isn’t true,” Rurik countered. “I didn’t say I was breaking our betrothal. I only think it would do us good to have some time apart to think on it.”

  “But I don’t want time apart.” This time she truly did sound like a little girl.

  Rurik looked to his best friend, hoping for support. “Nils, would you please help her to understand I’m not deserting her? I’m merely going to help my uncle, and in turn it will help us.”

  Nils fixed Rurik with a hard gaze. “I think she’s right. You two should marry, and we should start up our own business—just like we’ve always planned. Svea’s a woman full grown, and there doesn’t need to be any delay in you two marrying. Your uncle can hire someone to help him. Doesn’t he already have a group of men who work for him?”

  “He does, but—”

  “But nothing. There’s the answer. Those men know what he needs—after all, they’ve been working with him all this time. He and your grandfather might have taught you to build furniture, but you don’t know anything about the business he’s running now. Besides, Minnesota is a really cold place to go.”

  “What does the cold have to do with it?” Rurik asked. “It’s cold in Kansas, too.” He was starting to think that neither of the Olsson siblings had any sense at all. If they did, they certainly weren’t allowing it to guide their reasoning.

  Nils shook his head. “You wouldn’t be doing this if your father were still alive.”

  “Look, why don’t I come out to the farm, and we can sit and talk about this away from all these folks.” He motioned toward a number of the local gossips coming their way. The last thing he wanted to do was create a scene. “I’ll even explain it to your mother and father.”

  “This shouldn’t be that big of a problem,” Nils argued. “You know as well as I do that the betrothal should be honored. Our plans should be honored, as well. I’ve been counting on it.”

  “Rurik doesn’t care about honoring promises,” Svea said with a toss of her head. “I’m going to the dressmaker. You try to talk sense into him.” She turned on her heel and headed off down the boardwalk, plowing right through the gaggle of women. Several gasped their astonishment, but Svea didn’t appear to care. She scowled at the women, causing them to hurry on their way. Without another word or look, she disappeared into the dressmaker’s establishment.

  Rurik felt utterly confused and dismayed with the encounter. He hadn’t thought this would be an i
ssue when the letter arrived from his uncle two days earlier. “You are closer to her than anyone, Nils. Try to help her understand. I never meant to hurt her.”

  “I’ll talk to her, Rurik, but you have to stay. I need to get away from the dairy,” Nils said, now sounding desperate. “You know I don’t fit in there. My brothers may have a passion for dairy farming, but not me. I only do the office work because it keeps me out of the milking barns. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, you know, that we’d open our furniture business.”

  “I have to go, Nils,” Rurik said, shaking his head. “My uncle needs me. Look, I’m still planning to have my own shop. The fact of the matter is, we can’t open that shop until Svea and I marry and I come into my marriage money. I’ve not made any plans to do that right away, so I guess I’m kind of puzzled as to why you are talking like this.”

  Nils shook his head. “I figured the way Svea talked, you and she would be marrying this year.”

  “Well, this year has barely begun. Look, your sister is a sweet young woman, but I’ve had misgivings about this arrangement for some time. Neither of us have ever had any say in the matter. I know my mother wasn’t all that keen on arranged marriages.”

  “But our fathers were.”

  “And mine is dead now. My mother also. For me, that kind of changes things,” Rurik answered.

  “But it shouldn’t.” Nils’s voice had sounded almost frantic. “It was our fathers’ will that you two marry. They saw it as a good business arrangement. Your family farms, and mine has the dairy. The two can help each other greatly.”

  “Ja, I know all that,” the tall Swede replied. “But we’re not talking about two farms getting married, are we? There’s no reason our families can’t continue to help one another. That is the Christian way.”

  “Don’t bring God and religion into this,” Nils spat out.

  Rurik frowned. “Why not? God is at the center of all I do. In fact, He’s the reason I feel it’s important to go to Minnesota.”

  “Oh, don’t go blaming this on the Almighty. If you plan to back out of your promises, you need to take the responsibility of it yourself. I won’t have you breaking your engagement to my sister and telling everyone that God made you do it.”

  “But I haven’t broken the engagement.” He looked at Nils and tried not to sound as angry as he was feeling. “I haven’t broken anything. I still plan to work with you and for us to have a business. I will honor my father’s desire for me to marry Svea—that is, if after this separation we can both agree it is the right thing to do. The fact is, though, I would kind of like to be in love with the woman I plan to marry.”

  “But you love Svea. You always have.”

  “I love her like a sister. I love her as I love you—like a brother.” Rurik stepped closer and pulled Nils into the alley with him. “But the truth is, I’m not in love with Svea.”

  “But that will come. You and I both know that marriage has very little to do with love. Marriages are made for the advantage of the families.”

  “That might have been the old way—the Swedish way, even—but it’s not my way. I will not marry anyone unless I love the woman with all my heart. I cannot in good faith allow your sweet sister to marry a man who isn’t worthy of her—and that would happen if my feelings don’t change. Added to that, she’s still very young.”

  “Bah! You’re just using that as an excuse,” Nils shot back. “I ought to deck you for this. Folks will talk, and her reputation will be ruined.”

  “Her reputation will be just fine. The people of Lindsborg know we have never courted without you at our side. She has never been unescorted even in church. Frankly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want her reputation upheld. A woman’s virtue is as important as a man’s name.”

  “Then why would you risk both by going away? She obviously loves you, and since that’s so important to you, that should be enough.”

  For a moment Rurik considered his friend’s words. “No, actually I don’t think she does love me. I think she’s accepted that our marriage will be, but I don’t believe she loves me or really understands what love is about.”

  “Of course she does. Our mother has trained her to know what’s expected of a wife.”

  Rurik shook his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Svea is but a girl.”

  It was Nils’s turn to shake his head. “She’s seventeen. That’s old enough by some folks’ standards.”

  “She’s led a very sheltered life and has never had a chance to explore whether another man might better suit her desires.”

  “This is ridiculous, Rurik. You and Svea have plenty in common. But more important, folks around here know what’s expected of you two. You should try to remember that.”

  Two women passed the opening of the alley and glanced over at Rurik and Nils. The men tipped their hats to the women. Once they were out of sight, Nils took hold of Rurik’s shoulders.

  “You have to change your mind about this. I think you and Svea should marry right away so that you and I can get on with our business. My father is pressuring me to take a bigger part in the dairy, and I have no interest. If I have another opportunity elsewhere . . . a means to make money and support myself . . . I won’t have to worry about refusing his offer and hurting him.”

  “Nils, you’re my best friend, but I cannot lie for you. I cannot pledge myself in marriage before God and this town and not know that I truly love her—that it’s God’s will for my life.”

  “There you go again. Don’t try to put all the responsibility on God and make it sound like some sort of divine assignment.”

  “But I feel that marriage is a divine assignment,” Rurik said. “I’m rather surprised that you can speak with so little feeling in regard to your sister’s happiness. I’ve never known two siblings to be more devoted to the happiness of each other. I thought you loved her.”

  “I do. My love for her has never been in question. It’s yours that seems to be a problem.”

  The whistle sounding from an arriving train signaled to Rurik that he’d let too much time slip away. “I need to go. You should get back to Svea.”

  “I know how to take care of her. You’re the one who’s failing in that area.”

  “Nils, I care deeply for her. Look . . . I . . . I’ll go help my uncle, and when I return we can decide this matter once and for all.”

  Rurik left Nils standing in the alley and made his way to the railroad depot. He wanted to check on the schedule and see what kind of arrangements he could make for tickets to Minnesota. The damp cold of the day made him draw his coat up closer to his neck as he trudged through the snow. He had always loved this town—especially during the holiday season. Swedes had a wonderful way of celebrating Christmas, or Julotta, as they called it. There were all sorts of festivities and food, parties and pageantry. The Lutheran church was always full on Advent Sundays, and Rurik had a great fondness for Christmas music. The only thing he really missed was his mor singing beside him during services. Nellie Jorgenson had been beloved by most of the Lindsborg residents. Rurik was certain there had never been a more generous and loving woman. His mor sewed and knit for the poor, made food baskets for the sick, and gave platters of freshly baked goodies to all of the local bachelors. When she passed on, the entire town had attended her funeral. But, he had to admit, they did that for most everyone.

  The people of the town were good folks, and Lindsborg had thrived quite nicely while managing to maintain its Swedish heritage. He liked that about the place. He was proud to be of Swedish descent. His father was a second-generation American, but he could converse in Swedish as easily as English. He’d seen to it that his children could do the same.

  “Hello, Rurik.”

  Smiling, Rurik nodded to the older man. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Lindquist.”

  “I tink a little more snow is comin’ our vay, ja? I comed to town before de snow. How is your bror Aron?”

  “My brother is doin
g well. The farm kept him busy this year.”

  “Ja, det var ett bra ar,” the older man said, switching to Swedish.

  “Yes, it was a good year.”

  “So vat are you doin’ in town today?” Mr. Linquist was back to English in a singsong cadence typical of the older Swedish residents.

  “Checking on the train schedule. I’m going to Minnesota to help Uncle Carl. He’s been sick.”

  “Oh, dat’s too bad.”

  “Ja, it is, but I’m hopeful it’s nothing serious.” Rurik saw that the depot traffic had lessened. He didn’t want to be rude, but he needed to attend to business. “If you’ll excuse me now, I need to talk to the depot master.”

  “Ja, you go now. I tink I go buy my supplies. I vant to get home before de snow.” The old man smiled and struggled from the boardwalk to cross the street.

  Rurik would have offered to assist the man through the snow, but he knew Mr. Lindquist to be quite proud. It would no doubt have insulted him to suggest he was anything but capable of conducting business on his own. Nevertheless, Rurik watched until the octogenarian was safely across the street before hurrying on his way.

  After a quick visit with the depot master, Rurik settled on leaving the day after tomorrow. He paid for his passage and placed the ticket securely in his coat pocket before heading back to his tethered horse.

  Rurik gave the animal a quick pat on the neck, then took up the reins to mount. It was then that he spied Nils and Svea coming out of the dressmaker’s shop. His hand drifted to his pocket, and he fingered the ticket within. Should he try to speak to Svea again?

  Rurik paused a moment, then turned and headed for home.

  Chapter 3

  Rurik sat down with a cup of coffee and faced his older brother across the kitchen table. After his brother had taken over the homestead when their parents had passed away, he’d brought Rurik in as a part of his family.