Icecutter's Daughter, The

by Tracie Peterson

  “Will you ask him?”

  “I will. But for now, we need to get this milk and cream inside. I don’t think the storm is getting any better out there.”

  Michael went to the back of the wagon and hoisted down two large cloth-covered pails. “I’m going to miss you, Uncle Rurik.”

  Rurik took up the larger milk cans and smiled. “I’m going to miss you, too. But you’ll see. I won’t be gone long.” But even as he said the words, something deep inside told Rurik that might not be the case. He frowned, but hid his face so Michael wouldn’t see his expression. What was going on? Was God trying to tell him something?

  Chapter 4

  Merrill barely managed to remember to put on her skirt before she reached Waseca. She was so used to working around the farm in her brothers’ hand-me-downs that it seemed unnecessary to don more feminine attire unless it was Sunday. Hurrying, she grabbed the rolled-up woolen skirt, shook it out, and pulled it on over her trousers. She took off her mittens to fumble awkwardly with the buttons at the waistband. The temperatures had dropped considerably. The cold air stung her fingers, making them stiff and slow.

  As soon as the task was accomplished, Merrill straightened her coat and pulled the mittens back on. She blew warm breath into the heavy knit wool to bring life back into her frozen digits. The team of Belgians blew out their own puffs of air and stomped slightly against the snowy road. Taking hold of the reins, Merrill released the brake and urged them on.

  As they came closer to town, the additional traffic on the road packed down the snow, making passage easier. Merrill directed the team to a blacksmith shop and had barely brought them to a stop when Jacob Anderson hurried out to take hold of the horses.

  “Your pa told me yesterday that you’d be bringin’ these boys in for new shoes.”

  Merrill picked up the bundle beside her and jumped to the ground. “Mike and Mack need to be ready for the ice harvest. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

  “Good. I can have them shod by then.”

  “How’s Anona and the boys?” Merrill asked the stout farrier.

  “They’re doin’ good. The boys are comin’ over later to help me. Maybe you’ll see them when you pick up the team.”

  “Are they going to enter the family business and take over for you?” she asked with a smile.

  “They take over, all right.” He laughed. “Not always in the best way, but they can be good help.” He began to unhitch the animals.

  “I’ll be visiting Granny Lassiter if you need me.” Merrill didn’t wait for a response, and headed off down the street. She was desperate to get out of the cold.

  Waseca was a bustling little town less than one hundred miles from the twin metropolises of Minneapolis and St. Paul. Merrill had lived in the area all of her life, though never in town proper. She supposed that had a lot to do with why she lacked many of the same feminine interests and hobbies that other women had. It didn’t help that she spent all of her time with five men, either. It was only at times like this or on Sundays at church that Merrill had much time to share the company of other women.

  The skies overhead were a brilliant blue, and the air, although biting, was crisp and now smelled of baked goods. Merrill glanced at the small café and bakery. Granny often furnished them with pies and cinnamon rolls. It allowed her a means of making a little money now that Grandpa Lassiter had retired from working at the apothecary. Hopefully Granny would have a pot of coffee or tea brewing, and they could sit and talk in the warmth of the kitchen. Merrill picked up her pace.

  The Lassiters had a small clapboard house some four blocks from the railroad on the west side of town. It was a dainty creation, if a building could be considered such. Merrill always thought it could be likened to a doll’s house with its steeply pitched gabled roof and decorative verge boards. Painted a buttery yellow and trimmed in white, the two-story house was a testament of love. Grandpa Lassiter had arranged for it to be built some twenty years earlier, using a small inheritance he’d received when his father passed on. Merrill remembered stories Granny had told of how the only intention Grandpa had for the money was to make a beautiful home for his wife. Merrill couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be loved in such a fashion.

  “Knock, knock!” she called, opening the back door.

  “Come in, child. Come in and get warm.” Granny bustled across the kitchen to greet her.

  Merrill stopped just inside the door. “If you’ll take this bundle, I’ll get rid of my boots. I’m afraid they’re a mess.”

  Granny took the offering. “Have you brought me a new treat?”

  Smiling, Merrill pulled off her mittens and stuffed them in the pockets of her coat before discarding the heavy boots. “I have. I’ve been experimenting with carrots.”

  “Carrots?” Granny shook her head and frowned. “What in the world are you doing with carrots?”

  Merrill left her boots by the door and hung her coat on a peg. She padded in thick wool socks across the wooden floor of the kitchen. “I have some delicious cookies.”

  Granny shook her head. “Carrot cookies? Doesn’t sound too appetizing to me. ’Course, I’ve never been overly fond of ’em. But if you’re the one doing the baking, I’m glad to try.” She placed the bundle on the table.

  “I thought I heard your voice.” Corabeth crossed the room to give Merrill a hug. “Ooooh, your cheeks are like ice. How about some warm milk or tea?”

  “Thanks, I’d like tea,” Merrill replied. She opened the bundle and unwrapped a smaller package inside. “I’ve brought something for you to try, and they are quite good with tea.”

  Corabeth brought a cup and the tea canister. “Granny and I were already set to have tea, so it won’t take long. See, the kettle is already on.” She smiled at the plate Merrill had set out. “Hmmm, what are these?”

  “Try them first, and then I’ll tell you,” Merrill said, grinning.

  Granny and Corabeth each picked up one of the frosted cookies and sampled it. Merrill waited as the women considered the offering. Their smiles were her answer.

  “You say these are made with carrots?” Granny asked.

  “Carrots?” Corabeth looked at the partially eaten cookie. “I can’t taste any carrot. I taste orange.”

  Merrill nodded. “Remember the oranges we got at church for Christmas? I saved them and used the juice and zest for the frosting.”

  “They’re wonderful,” Granny said, reaching for another. “I can’t believe they’re made with carrots. Merrill, you have a real prize here. Although getting oranges for the frosting could be a bit of an expense.”

  “I’m glad you like them.” The warm kitchen was heady with the scent of cinnamon. “Are you making cinnamon rolls or snickerdoodles?”

  Granny laughed and shuffled off across the room to the stove. She opened the oven door to reveal pans of rolls. She closed it and straightened. “Should be ready before you leave. You will stay a spell, won’t you? After driving in all that way in the cold, you should at least stay through lunch.”

  “I planned a nice long visit. I told Father I’d pick up a few baking supplies and get the team winter shod, so he’s not expecting me back until much later.”

  “Good. We can talk about all the news in town.” The teapot began to whistle, and Granny retrieved it before coming back to the table.

  “Surely there hasn’t been that much going on since Sunday.”

  Corabeth helped herself to another cookie and waited for the tea to steep. “Well, the dairy farmers met, and the Waseca Creamery is finally formed. John Diedrich has fifty percent of the shares, but over forty-three other farmers are involved. It’s quite exciting.”

  Merrill nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. It’s been in the works for a long while. When will they be up and running?”

  Granny eased into her chair and took up a cookie. For a moment she examined it. “Can’t say. They’ll meet again on the ninth. I’ll bet you could win first prize at the fair with these.”

&
nbsp; “I think so, too,” Corabeth encouraged. “Oh, I found the prettiest material at Finsters. I think you’d look beautiful in a new dress made from it. We should go over and look at it before you head home.”

  “I don’t need a new dress. I only wear the ones I have for church and the occasional social function.” Merrill stood and reached for the teapot, hoping they’d forget the entire matter. “Should I pour?”

  “No, I can,” Corabeth said, taking charge. She poured tea for all three of them, then sat back with a wistful smile. “May I ask how Zadoc is doing?”

  Merrill had long known that Corabeth was sweet on her brother. “He’s been busy. They’re gearing up to harvest ice, and you know how hard that work can be.”

  “Dangerous too,” Corabeth said, frowning. “I wish he had a nice easy job. Like working at the mercantile or in the bank.”

  Merrill had to fight to keep from spitting her tea out in laughter. The thought of her brother—any of her brothers—sitting behind a desk or wearing a suit and tie in order to make a living was far too amusing. “He’d never like that. You know my brothers. If they’re inside the house more than a few hours, they start to get ugly. The biggest fights I’ve ever seen were during blizzards.”

  “Zadoc could never be ugly,” Corabeth said, sounding slightly reproving.

  Granny laughed. “You won’t ever get her to say anything bad about your brother. She’s lost her senses when it comes to him.”

  Corabeth blushed, and Merrill picked at a cookie rather than comment. She knew Corabeth fervently hoped that Zadoc would ask to court her.

  Granny took that moment to reach for Merrill’s hand. “Goodness, child, your hands are horribly chapped. Let me get you some cream for them. I have a good supply since we made a new batch just last week. I’ll send a few jars home with you.” Granny got up and waddled from the room.

  Corabeth leaned forward. “Have you been talking to Zadoc?”

  “You mean encouraging him to consider being your suitor?”

  The young woman nodded. “I want so much for him to take me to the church party next month.”

  “Right now all he can think about is work. Father has the boys completely occupied. I’ll do what I can, but it is never easy to get a private moment with him.”

  Corabeth’s disappointment was etched on her face. Granny returned just then, however, so nothing more was said on the subject.

  “You use this, and those hands will soften right up,” Granny said, putting three small jars in front of Merrill. She opened one and began slathering Merrill’s hands in lotion.

  “You might as well put it on a pig’s hooves.” Merrill laughed and shook her head.

  “Nonsense. This is one of my best batches.”

  “And how will that help me get all of my work done, pray tell? I still have two mares due to foal, and then I’ll be helping with the ice harvest. You know that will consume most of my time. We go without clean clothes for weeks.”

  “I’ll come wash clothes for you,” Corabeth said. “That way maybe we can . . . talk from time to time.”

  Merrill knew her friend would use whatever excuse she could to get near Zadoc. What she probably didn’t expect, however, was Granny’s support of the idea. “We could both come. I could cook for you, and we can work together on the cleaning and washing.”

  “And who will care for Grandpa Lassiter?” Merrill asked. “You two have more than enough to do here.”

  “Oh, we’ll manage,” Corabeth said. “Grandpa spends most of his days over at the apothecary advising Mr. Malcolm on what he’s doing wrong. He won’t even miss us. Besides, with all the men helping with the ice harvest, you’ll need extra hands for the meals. You’ll want to have a hot meal ready. We can come out first thing in the morning and stay through the afternoon.”

  Merrill knew they were right. Preparing the food and hot coffee had become more and more difficult as the ice-harvest production had increased. Her father had only taken to hiring extra men the last few years, but the prices paid for ice had more than compensated for the extra wages. Maybe Merrill should think about hiring help of her own.

  “I don’t know. Let me speak to Father about it,” she finally stated.

  “Your father isn’t doing right by you,” Granny said, waggling a finger. “You are a young woman, and you should be courting and marrying. Most girls are at least engaged by your age.”

  Merrill didn’t need the reminder that her life wasn’t anything like that of a normal young woman. Nothing about her seemed to match up with her feminine counterparts, and no one was as keenly aware of the fact.

  Granny seemed to recognize her frustration. “Forgive me, Merrill Jean. I know you haven’t had much to say about any of this. It’s just that I know your mother would be heartbroken to see you giving your life totally over to the care of your brothers and father. She would want you to have a family of your own. They should do likewise.”

  “Take care of your father . . . the boys. They’ll need you,” a voice from the past seemed to whisper in her ear.

  She clearly remembered the dying request, but Merrill said nothing. Even at the age of ten, she had known the importance of easing her mother’s worried mind. She had pledged her life in service to her family in order to get one final smile from her mother.

  “Father will never marry again,” Merrill finally offered. “He will always need me to care for him. It’s my place as the only daughter.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t marry. In fact, you should. You could marry and bring your father into your home.”

  “Father will never leave the farm, and you know it,” Merrill said, shaking her head.

  “If your brothers would marry, they might take on the job themselves—well, at least their wives might. Your brother Leo has been courting for a time now. Since he will inherit the bulk of the farm, you could well expect his family to care for your father.”

  It was true that Leo had become quite serious about the young widow Sally Myers. The childless woman had been widowed for two years and lived with her aunt in Waseca. Leo had met her at church and had been smitten ever since. Merrill was surprised that they had not yet announced their engagement. Perhaps he was giving her a lengthy time of mourning to make certain she wanted to remarry. He was thoughtful that way. Of all her brothers, Leo seemed the most concerned with the feelings of others.

  “If the time comes that Leo and Sally marry and wish to take on Father’s care, I will happily step aside,” Merrill said, hoping it would end the conversation.

  “Now, about that dress material,” Granny said, returning to an equally uncomfortable subject. “You really should take a look at it. The colors are perfect for you and with the party in just a little over a month, we’ll need to get busy sewing.”

  Merrill fought an urge to roll her eyes. Instead she smiled and asked for another cup of tea.

  Later that evening, as she sat around the supper table and listened to her brothers and father talk about the day, she couldn’t help but think back on the conversation with Granny and Corabeth. Truth be told, Merrill was lonely. She had always hoped to court and marry. She wanted a large family of her own, but it seemed most of the eligible men in the area were frightened off by her big, intimidating brothers. Not only that, but the vast amount of work she was responsible for kept Merrill from having enough leisure time to concern herself with courtship.

  “I’m surprised you don’t have something to say about that,” Father said, elbowing Merrill.

  She looked up to find everyone watching her. “What?” she asked. “I must have missed something.”

  “I’ll say,” Tobe countered. “Leo just said he finally got engaged to Sally.”

  “I figured you’d be the first to congratulate me, Merrill Jean,” Leo remarked.

  Flynn helped himself to the last piece of strudel, then jabbed his fork at Zadoc’s hand as he tried to help himself to a bite. “You already had two pieces,” Flynn reminded him. “This is just my
second.”

  “You can’t blame me for trying,” Zadoc replied. “Merrill, that was about the best cherry strudel I’ve ever had. Those canned cherries weren’t bad at all.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “So what do you think about my news?” Leo asked.

  A twinge of envy washed over her, but Merrill ignored it. “Oh, Leo, what good news. Very good news. Granny and I were just discussing it this morning. She was surprised you hadn’t already proposed.”

  “Just been waiting for the right time,” Leo said, shrugging. “Didn’t know the whole town was waiting on me.”

  Her brothers laughed and teased Leo mercilessly as Merrill slipped back into her own thoughts. Leo would marry and Sally would no doubt move here to the farm. She liked Sally a great deal and thought it would be easy enough to live with another woman in the house. Even so, it meant changes for her family, and Merrill wasn’t exactly sure why that left her feeling out of sorts.

  “I thought I’d come one last time to try and talk some sense into you,” Nils said, looking at Rurik’s open suitcase. “I see you’re packing.”

  “I leave in the morning for Minnesota.”

  “You know, I can smooth things over with Svea. She’ll do whatever I say. You really should stay and see what can be done.”

  Rurik looked at his friend and shook his head. “And what kind of husband would I be—needing my best friend to smooth things over with the one who is to be my wife? No, I think this is the best decision.”

  “But you won’t come into your marriage money, and you won’t be able to start your business very soon. I’ve been counting on this as much as you have.”

  “I can continue making furniture and selling it. I don’t need a big place to do that. With each piece I sell, I can reinvest. I’ll start small.”