Icecutter's Daughter, The

by Tracie Peterson

  “But that doesn’t help me,” Nils protested. “I thought we agreed that we would go into business together.”

  “You could learn to make furniture. I could teach you some simple designs to get you started.”

  “I can’t work with my hands like that. I’m better with numbers, and you know it. I can handle the business end of things for you. I can get customers for you and arrange for larger sales. You need me.”

  “I will eventually, to be sure, Nils. I just can’t make a position where there is none yet,” Rurik replied. He reached for a stack of shirts and placed them in the suitcase. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this and be patient. The time for our venture will come.”

  “But not in time to do me any good,” Nils muttered, shaking his head. “My father has made it clear that I’m through. He wants me to get out on my own and take up for myself unless I’m willing to take on more responsibility with the dairy. I can’t spend my life milking cows, Rurik.”

  “Nobody is asking you to. Why don’t you go into town and see about a bank job? Maybe you could work for the railroad.”

  “You’re just trying to get rid of me, like you did Svea.”

  Rurik frowned. “That was uncalled for. Your sister is the one who dissolved the engagement. You know that as well as anyone. I only asked for time—just like I’m asking you.”

  “Time isn’t something we all have to spare.” Nils stormed out of the room, and Rurik let him go. There was no sense in making a scene in front of Aron and Elizabeth. He really wasn’t sure why Nils was so desperate or why some of the options Rurik had mentioned were so unpalatable.

  “Is Nils all right?” Aron asked from the doorway.

  “He doesn’t want me to go. He wants me to stick around and mend fences with Svea.”

  Aron leaned against the doorframe. “I’ve been considering the things you said.” He looked rather sheepish. “I talked to Elizabeth, as well. I’m of a mind that maybe I spoke too soon when we discussed your marriage to Svea.”

  Rurik felt a sense of relief to hear his brother admit this. “I’m glad you’re able to see it from my perspective.”

  “Times are changing. Elizabeth reminded me of that. It’s nearly the nineteen hundreds, after all, and arranged marriages have been out of fashion for a long time. I guess my mind was more on what Far thought we needed. Things have changed there, as well. The wheat prices are better than ever, and we could switch to grow that instead of corn. That is, if the Olssons want to buy their feed elsewhere.”

  Rurik smiled. “My guess is they’ll still buy your corn.” Silence fell between them, making Rurik feel rather awkward. “I appreciate you coming to tell me, Aron. You know I value your opinion.”

  “Thanks, Rurik. I know that you wouldn’t do anything without seeking God first. I should have remembered that earlier. Talk with Him, Rurik, and do what He directs. I’m confident you’ll make the right choice.”

  Chapter 5

  “Uncle Carl!” Rurik waved and stepped down from the train. He had immediately recognized the older man, even though it had been at least six years since they had last seen each other.

  Carl Jorgenson smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you.” He gave Rurik an embrace, but it lacked the strength he’d once demonstrated. “Let’s collect your things and get out of the cold.”

  “I only have this suitcase,” Rurik said, holding the piece up. “I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d need. I figured if I needed something more, I could send for it or maybe purchase it.”

  “Ja, that’s good. You won’t need much.”

  Rurik tried not to appear overly concerned about his uncle’s condition. It was clear the man was thinner than the last time they’d been together; his face looked rather gaunt and gray. Perhaps Carl was much sicker than he’d let on in his letter.

  “It snowed last night,” Carl said, as if needing to explain the icy drifts. “More snow is due.”

  “Ja, it snowed along the way,” Rurik replied. He slowed his steps to match his uncle’s. “This seems like a nice little town.”

  “Ja, it’s a good town. The people are the best, always looking out for one another. They take good care of me,” he said, chuckling and putting a hand to his belly. “As you can see, I do not go hungry.”

  Rurik forced a smile and nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.” He glanced around. “I’ve never been to Minnesota before this.”

  “I think you will find it similar to Kansas. Maybe more trees. And more lakes. Definitely more trees and lakes.” Carl chuckled. He pointed to a large red barn-like structure. “That’s my shop. The house is just behind. And we have been electrified.”

  “Electricity is a wonder, to be sure,” Rurik said, shaking his head. “It will make the work easier, ja?” Rurik found himself falling right in with his uncle’s Scandinavian vernacular.

  “Ja. We have better lighting and can work longer.”

  “Nice and close to the railroad, too.” Rurik noted that they weren’t even half a mile from the depot.

  “Ja. I ship furniture all over the country.”

  “How have they learned about you?”

  “Mostly verd of mouth,” he said, his Swedish accent thick. “I always keep busy. I got ten good strong men to work for me now. I had to advertise in the Minneapolis paper.”

  Rurik smiled. “I’m sure you trained them well. I often think of you and Farfar teaching me to work the wood. Those are my favorite memories.”

  “Mine too,” Carl admitted. He opened a small door and ushered Rurik inside the barn. “Just put your suitcase over there for now. I’ll introduce you to my men.”

  Rurik did as he was instructed. He inhaled deeply, the scent of various woods filling the air. He remembered his farfar’s shop in Kansas. That shop had been quite small compared to this business, but the sights and sounds were much the same.

  “Fellas, come on over.” Carl’s call interrupted Rurik’s daydreaming. “This is my nephew, Rurik Jorgenson. He’s come all the way from Kansas.”

  Rurik nodded to the men who gathered around him. He shook hands with each one and heard their names as Carl went down the line. “This is Arne and his brother Lars. Over here is Enar, then Oscar, George, Josef, Otto, Simon, and Kent.”

  The strong handshakes and smiles made Rurik feel instantly welcome. “It’s good to meet you, gentlemen.”

  “The only one missing is John. His wife had a baby this morning, so we let him stay home.”

  The men laughed and the one named Lars added, “Ja, so he could take care of the other eight children.”

  Rurik laughed, too. He liked the camaraderie between the men. No doubt his uncle aimed to hire God-fearing, strong family men who were known for their honesty and hard work.

  “My father and I trained Rurik,” Carl stated, “when he was just a boy. He has come to help us, since the doctor thinks I need to rest more.” He frowned. “I don’t think the doctor knows what he’s talking about, but at least this way I look like I’m listening to him.”

  The men chuckled. Carl said to Rurik, “I’m sure you are familiar with most everything you see, but I’ll let you spend time with each man to see how we do things here.” Turning back to the men, he nodded. “You can return to work now. We’ve got that big library order, remember, and it has to go out by the fifteenth.” Rurik knew the latter information was for his sake.

  Carl headed toward where they’d left the suitcase. “I’ll show you the house and your room,” he said over his shoulder.

  Rurik picked up his case and followed after his uncle. He noticed the man had a bit of a limp, but otherwise he seemed to move along quite well. They crossed into another section of the barn, and it was here that Rurik’s senses were assaulted with the scent of paint and lacquer.

  “This is the finishing room,” Carl told him. “I mostly work here with John when we can keep it warm enough.”

  Rurik noted five finished tables and two sideboards. “Are those a part of the orde
r you’re finishing up?”

  “Ja, the tables are. We’re mostly done. The boys will finish today, and then we will stain and lacquer tomorrow. John will be back, and you can help if you like.”

  “I’d like that very much.” He noted three woodstoves. “Do you have enough fuel for the fires? I could go chop wood if you need me to.”

  “No. I have plenty. We laid in a large supply, as you will see.” He led Rurik through another door at the far end. “And here is the holding room, where we store the pieces that are ready to be shipped. The boys will move those others in here when they are dry.”

  Rurik squatted down to inspect the tables and ran his hand over the cabriole leg. “This is beautiful work.”

  “They are for a library in New York.” Carl sounded pleased at Rurik’s compliment.

  Rurik stood and felt the satin-like finish of the top. “Walnut?”

  “Oh sure. Valnut is good and sturdy. It will stand up to the wear and tear. Last a hundred years.”

  “Or more,” Rurik added. “Do you have orders for additional pieces after this?”

  “Ja. More than I can handle. I’ve had to say no to some. Others are willing to wait. Come, now. I’ll show you the house.”

  They left the holding room and exited out the side of the building. The shoveled walkway led to a small white house. The gabled two-story house was simple in its styling. The place spoke of practicality with its steep-pitched roof and straight, trim lines. A single brick chimney could be seen near the crest of the roof.

  “There’s a nice large room for you upstairs. It used to be my bedroom, but it’s gotten hard to climb the steps, so my room is downstairs now.”

  “It sounds perfect,” Rurik said. They entered the house and stepped into the front sitting room. It felt only slightly warmer inside the house, and Rurik couldn’t help but wonder if Carl had a hard time keeping the fires going or if he was simply frugal.

  “Sorry, I let it get cold in here,” Carl admitted, as if answering Rurik’s question. “The fireplace keeps the room pretty warm. I’ll get the fire stoked up for you.” Stacked beside the hearth were several appropriately cut pieces of wood. Carl bent stiffly and picked up several sticks. “I’ve got soup in the kitchen if you are hungry. Fresh bread, too. Mrs. Lassiter brought it yesterday, and it’s a good strong rye with caraway.”

  Rurik put the suitcase down and went to help his uncle. “Do you need me to bring in more wood?”

  “Maybe later. You’ll need to take some upstairs with you.” He straightened and looked rather embarrassed. “I forgot to have Arne take some up for you.”

  “That’s not a problem, Uncle Carl. Really, I’m here to help you. Let me build the fire.” He shed his coat, hat, and gloves and took the pieces of wood from Carl’s hands.

  “Ja, you do that,” Carl said, seeming glad to be relieved of the responsibility. “When you have it set, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

  Rurik worked for several minutes until he had a nice fire going. He held his bare hands toward the flames and relished the warmth. “There we go. I’m sure things will warm up nicely.” Rurik turned to his uncle. “Are you feeling all right?”

  Carl leaned against the edge of a wing-backed chair. “I get pretty tired these days.”

  “Then a rest is in order.” Rurik glanced around the sparsely furnished room. He couldn’t help but think of the adage that spoke of the shoemaker’s children going without shoes. With exception to the wing-backed chair and ottoman, a single wooden chair, and a small table, the room was unfurnished. Carl didn’t even have so much as a picture on the walls.

  As if reading his mind, Carl smiled and said, “I don’t spend a lot of time in here. The kitchen suits me better.”

  “No doubt I’ll feel the same.”

  Carl squared his thin shoulders. “Come on, then. Let me show you.” He led Rurik from the front room and down a narrow hall. “Over there is my room.” He pointed to an alcove that was separated from the passageway by a pulled-back curtain. “The stairs are just there.”

  Rurik looked past the alcove to a narrow door. Carl was already on the move, shuffling to the opposite side of his bedroom. “You can shave and bathe in here,” he said, tapping another closed narrow door. “And through here is the kitchen.”

  They entered the surprisingly large room, and Carl went immediately to the large cast-iron stove. “I put some coffee on this morning. It’s good and strong.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Rurik smiled. The kitchen was considerably warmer and more accommodating than the rest of the house. He could see the table and chairs were most likely of Carl’s making, as were the cupboards. The countertop was clean and clear of clutter except for a bread box and several jars of what looked to be jellies. An icebox stood against the far side of the room, but in weather like this, Rurik imagined it was just as easy to keep perishables on the back porch.

  “I’ll dish you up some soup if you like,” Carl said. “You can take your suitcase upstairs and bring up some wood to get a fire going for yourself.” He motioned to the back door. “The mud porch is stacked full.”

  Rurik nodded. “Sounds good, but I can lay a fire after we eat.” He turned to retrieve his things.

  Carl called after him, “You make sure you have enough quilts up there.”

  Smiling to himself, Rurik made his way through the narrow stair door. He had to bend slightly to keep from hitting his head on the ascent. The steps were very steep and just as narrow as the door had been. Rurik straightened when he reached the top. Here he found a large, open room with a double bed, nightstand, and wardrobe on one side of the room. A chair and additional table claimed the territory in front of a small woodstove on the opposite side.

  There were two large windows at each end of the room that would allow in ample light throughout the day. “Not exactly designed for my height,” Rurik said to himself with a grin as he inspected the steep angles of the attic ceiling, “but workable.”

  He placed his case on the chair and went to the bed to test the mattress. It was surprisingly comfortable, and the bed had been carefully made. In fact, the entire room looked spotless. No doubt Carl had brought in someone to clean and set it in order.

  Before he headed back downstairs, Rurik opened the wardrobe to find two additional quilts. He smiled and closed the mahogany door. It already felt like home.

  He’d no sooner made it back down when Rurik heard voices coming from the front room. He made his way there to find his uncle speaking with two women.

  “Oh, good, you’re able to meet Mrs. Lassiter and her granddaughter, Miss Corabeth Lassiter.”

  Rurik extended his hand. “It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Lassiter. Miss Lassiter.”

  “Now, you call me Granny like everybody else. Only Carl calls me Mrs. Lassiter, and that’s because he thinks I’m an old lady.”

  Carl laughed. “It’s because I was taught to respect vomenfolk. This is my nephew, Rurik. He’s the one I told you about.”

  The older woman smiled and nodded as she took his hand. “I’m mighty glad you came to live with Carl. He’s needed someone here for a long time. Corabeth and I saw to your room upstairs. If we forgot anything, you tell us.”

  “It looked perfect to me,” Rurik said.

  “Good. We brought you some cinnamon rolls for breakfast and a slab of bacon. I wasn’t sure if Carl had time to shop.”

  “I hadn’t had time. I was pretty busy,” Carl admitted. “What do I owe you?”

  “Oh, a couple of chairs need repairs,” Granny Lassiter declared. “When you have time, you can get to them.”

  “Ja, I’ll do that,” Carl said, smiling. “I’ll come tomorrow.” He frowned. “No, I will come the day after. I promised to help the Krause family tomorrow. They’re checking to see if the ice is ready to cut.”

  “You’ve got no business being out there,” Granny admonished.

  “What’s he talking about?” Rurik asked. “Uncle Carl, I thought you were busy with furniture a
nd meeting a deadline.”

  “Ja, but my friends need help.”

  “I could go instead,” Rurik offered. “I don’t know much about ice harvesting, but I can learn.”

  “That’s far more sensible,” Granny encouraged. “A tall, strong man like you would lend a good hand. Carl will just get to talkin’, and then no work will get done.” She smiled at Rurik’s uncle. “I’ll come by tomorrow and make sure you behaved yourself. If you aren’t here, I’ll send the doctor for you.”

  “Uff da,” Carl muttered. “This is why I don’t have a wife.”

  Rurik roared with laughter and noticed that the petite Corabeth seemed to shrink away. She reminded him a bit of Svea in her size and demeanor. He flashed her a smile, but the young woman seemed only more intimidated.

  “Well, you gentlemen will have to excuse us. We’ve got a few more stops to make,” Granny announced and turned for the door. “Now, Carl, you be sure to come for supper and bring Rurik.”

  “Thank you,” Carl replied, nodding. “We’ll be there at five thirty.”

  Granny nodded. “Good. Now come along, Corabeth.”

  The young woman did as her grandmother bid, with nary a glance back.

  Chapter 6

  Merrill looked about her and found herself wishing she could be everywhere at once. The horses knew their jobs and handled just as well for her brothers, but Merrill couldn’t help but feel rather possessive. She had helped train all of the large Belgians and knew their quirks and their strengths. Even so, there were eight horses working today—four teams of two, and she couldn’t manage them all.

  The dun-colored Belgians seemed anxious to be about their business. Standing beside them on the ice, Merrill tightened her grip on the harness and whispered comfort to the nearest gelding. “You’ll be working soon enough, Paul. You stand fast and stop being such a bad example for Peter.”

  Peter and Paul were fairly new at working with each other, but Merrill found them to be a good match. Even so, they were young and still learning.