A Harvest of Hope

by Lauraine Snelling

  “So you are ready to put the lining together after we eat?” Ingeborg paused beside her. “I wish I had cut some flannel to use as a filler. Just thought of that.”

  “Is there any here?” Miriam pushed her chair back and stretched as she stood.

  “I’ll check after we eat.” They joined the other women at the food table.

  Miriam reached for a plate and, after ladling some stew into her bowl, moved on to the bread and cheese, along with pickles, and finally the desserts. Such a wealth of food. At least her family in Chicago had enough to eat nowadays.

  If Trygve had his way, her brothers and sisters would be on the train west tomorrow. But right now there was no place in town for five more bodies.

  The pounding and construction noises could be heard any time there was a pause. But this housing shortage would not last forever.

  Miriam had met some of the other women at the Bjorklunds’ and through Trygve, but Ingeborg and Kaaren made sure that she met others while the women were filling their plates. Mrs. Jeffers introduced her to those who were in her language class. Smiles and nodding took the place of conversation beyond basic words like yes and no, please and thank you, and my name is.

  “Those crews are working terribly hard to get the apartment house and those others done so the families can move in,” Rebecca said from behind her. “Gerald is helping too, since he doesn’t have the telephone switchboard.”

  “For not having had a telephone for so many years of my life, I can’t believe how we came to depend on it,” Kaaren said. “Has anyone heard anything about getting it up and running again?”

  “No, but I have an idea,” Ingeborg responded. “I’m going to talk to Thorliff about it first before I say anything, but maybe we’ll have it back sooner if they don’t have to put up the building first.”

  “Ingeborg Bjorklund, I can almost hear the wheels turning in your mind.” Kaaren shook her head. “Ingeborg gets a bright idea, and who knows what’s going to happen.”

  The women ate quickly and returned to what they were working on. Miriam put in the flannel sleeve and body pieces on top of the lining. The ticking clock made her want to hurry, but she already had one hole in her finger and didn’t want another.

  “How is it?” Kaaren stopped to ask.

  “I was hoping to get the lining sewn in, but I’m on duty tonight. I have the night shift for three nights.”

  “I can finish it. And we are leaving the church open, so whenever someone has time, they can come and keep going. I know some of the others are taking handwork home with them. How about I get the lining sewn in? We figured we’d have a trying-on session after school for the children’s things. We’ll mark the hem, and you could do that when you can.”

  Miriam stood up. “Thank you for asking me to help.”

  Ingeborg chimed in, “Trygve said to tell you that he left something for you at the boardinghouse. He hopes you’ll say yes.”

  “To what?”

  Ingeborg smiled. “I have no idea. He didn’t tell me. I’m just the messenger, since our telephones are no longer working.”

  “I’d better go get ready for work.” She waved good-bye to some of the others and strode back to the boardinghouse. What could Trygve have left for her? Curiosity made her hurry even more than did the chill of the day. She should have worn her coat instead of just a shawl.

  “I have something for you,” Maisie Landsverk announced before Miriam could even ask. She withdrew a pretty little box with a blue bow from under the counter and handed it over with a knowing smile. “From Trygve. That man sure is sweet on you.”

  “I . . . uh . . .” Miriam could feel her neck sending heat clear up to her cheekbones. She must have been redder than a radish. “Th-thank you.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it is wonderful. He is such a fine man, and you deserve only the best.”

  “You know I’ll be going back to Chicago at the end of July.”

  “Of course. You go finish your training, and then you get back on the train and come home.”

  You make it sound so simple. “I-I better get ready. Thank you.”

  When Miriam turned away, Mrs. Landsverk called her back. “Oh, I got so excited, I forgot to give you this. It came in the mail today.” She handed a letter over this time. “Two things in one day. I hope the letter is good news too.”

  “Thank you.” Miriam hurried up the stairs. What could it be? Once inside her room, she hung her shawl on one of the hooks by the door and set her bag on the bed before sinking into the rocking chair. She held the package in one hand and the letter in the other. Which to open first? Almost laughing at herself, she laid the letter in her lap and untied the blue yarn bow. Unfolding the paper, she stared down at a delicate hand-carved heart with a raised cross. An attached narrow purple ribbon could be tied to fit whatever length she wanted. Had he made this himself? She stroked the smooth wood with a tender fingertip. When would she see him to tell him thank-you? Was it even appropriate for him to give this to her? After all, it wasn’t her birthday or Christmas or anything special. Yet here it was, warm, as if waiting for her.

  She picked it up by the ribbon ends and walked over to the mirror before looping the ribbons around her neck. The golden hue lay against her dress, making the simple garment look elegant. With a sigh she tied the ribbons in a square knot and laid it back in the package. Nurses did not wear jewelry with their uniforms.

  Back in the chair, she slit open the letter.

  Dear Miriam,

  I am sorry it has taken me so long to write, but at least I am doing so now. We are all well here. The fall has been cold and damp, but trains keep needing to be loaded, so I have a job. I am grateful for that. The others are keeping very busy. Mrs. Korsheski has lived up to her promises to us. Now that it is getting dark so much earlier, I worry about Mercy and Este coming home after work, but I insist that they take the trolley rather than trying to walk that far and through the streets here. You know what they are like.

  Do you ever think about returning to Blessing after you finish your training? Your letters make it sound like such a good place to live. I have heard how severe the winters are, but still, I dream of a real home with a garden, and perhaps we could even have chickens. I guess I take after our Da and Mum in that way, more than I ever thought.

  I will close with love from all of us. We talk about you so much and think about you even more.

  With love,

  Your brother Tonio

  Miriam laid his letter on her lap so she had her hands free to wipe her tears and blow her nose. She’d never dreamed Tonio would write something like this.

  Tonio and Trygve, consorting without knowing it, both of them wanting to mess up her tidy plans for her life. She laughed through the tears.

  Life was suddenly so complicated, and she hated complications. But what if?

  What if?

  Chapter 30

  Dr. Bjorklund, I know it is none of my business, but you don’t look too well. I’ll do more of the paper work tonight. You should go on home.”

  Astrid looked up, realizing she was rubbing her forehead again. Most likely because she had a headache. “Thanks, Miriam, I think I will.” Tired sat on her as if it had been sewn onto her shoulders. Surely she should be getting her strength back by now. Yes, she’d had some sort of a nervous breakdown, but that was some time ago. It seemed the better Elizabeth felt, the worse she felt.

  Now, where had a thought like that come from? Doctors were not allowed to be tired. At least if she was tired there should be some good reason. And why did all her staff think it was their job to watch out for her? She should be watching out for them. When had she last done any planned teaching for these nurses in her care? After checking to make sure the charts were in alphabetical order, she rose and blew out a breath. Surely a good night’s rest would get her back in working order.

  Ever since the telephones had gone out, she’d been catching herself worrying about the hospital, as if she w
ere miles away rather than a few doors. Maybe they should set up a bell to ring if she was needed. Similar to the fire bell. Sure, let everyone in town worry about who is sick or got hurt that the doctor is needed at the hospital.

  She hung her apron on the hook by the door, took her shawl from another, and stopped. She set her black bag up on the desk and searched through, mentally checking off her necessities. She, Elizabeth, and Ingeborg all kept pretty much the same supplies in their bags, not that her mother was called on to use hers much anymore.

  Bag in hand, shawl around her shoulders, and hat pinned in place, she headed for the door. “Good night.”

  Miriam nodded and smiled, as did Gray Cloud. One more month and the two Indian nurses in training would be returning to their reservation to assist Dr. Red Hawk. That would give him four nurses with at least rudimentary training in patient care.

  She paused and inhaled the crisp air. It wasn’t freezing yet but would be before dawn. Each night was growing colder. The moon cast her shadow as she headed up the street.

  “Astrid!” one of the four men coming toward her called out.

  “Trygve? What’s happened?”

  “Oh, we need some stitches, I think.” He was probably trying to sound casual. It wasn’t working.

  “What happened?” Even in the moonlight she could recognize that one of them was limping, one man was holding an arm to his chest, another was holding a bloody head as his buddy helped him along, and four had bloodied faces, which included Trygve’s, and swelling eyes.

  “Just a disagreement.”

  Astrid turned and headed back into the hospital with a sigh.

  As they entered, Miriam strode toward them. “What happened?”

  “Divide them between the examining rooms. You two go in there, please.” She opened the door to the examining room. “Trygve and you, sir”—she motioned to the fellow clutching his arm—“in here. Gray Cloud . . .”

  “I get basins and soap.” The round little woman rolled her eyes as if this were nothing new to her.

  “Bring a bowl of ice too, please.” Astrid frowned at Trygve. “Sit in the chair there. You’d better tell me all that happened. No one was drinking, were they?”

  “On the job? Of course not.” Even Trygve couldn’t glare well with one eye rapidly swelling shut. His split lip had quit bleeding.

  “We’ll ice you and go see to the others. Are you injured anywhere else?”

  “No. Not unless pride counts.”

  “You’re not dizzy or having trouble breathing?” He shook his head and winced.

  She heard a snort behind her. Miriam held a pan of ice and a couple of wet cloths. The girl should be looking as if she were worried about her loved one. Instead, she looked either bemused or mildly disgusted.

  Astrid crossed to the other fellow and pressed around his shoulder briefly. “I thought it appeared dislocated. Let me examine the other two, and I’ll return to tend your dislocation. Miriam, prepare some ice packs for Trygve and this man. Then come over to the other room.”

  She stepped into the next room. “Can you both speak English?” The man in the chair nodded. She recognized the other fellow stretched out on the table, but she could not remember his name. Check for further bleeding and then ask for necessary information. As always, her mind went into doctor mode as she crossed to the examination table and removed the dirty handkerchief that had failed to stanch the bleeding from the man’s forehead. “Mr. . . . ?”

  He mumbled his name.

  His companion repeated it. “Dmitri Rasinov. Razzie.”

  That was it. Now she remembered his wife was Marina. “Do you normally bleed easily with a cut? Is it hard to make it quit bleeding?”

  He nodded but kept from flinching when she washed the gash in his forehead.

  “I’m washing this with carbolic acid to get rid of any dirt and germs. Nurse Hastings will close it with several stitches. The gash is deep, and we don’t want it to break open again, particularly if you bleed easily. That could happen from something as simple as smiling.” While she talked, she washed the wound, the red blood welling up immediately. It seemed to be slowing some, or was she just seeing things? Suddenly, she was uncertain of her own observations. “I’m putting this pad on, and I want you to hold it in place, with pressure. Can you do that?”

  He nodded. But when he raised his hand, she could see swelling on two fingers. “Was that injured in the fight too? Broken?”

  He shrugged and had the grace to look sheepish. “I am not a good fighter.”

  “I should think not. What is your wife going to say?”

  “Plenty,” the man mumbled from between swollen lips.

  “Your residence?”

  “Post office box 3.”

  “You’d never fit into it. Where do you live?”

  “Cannot remember. Brain is foggy. Mrs. . . . uh, that house near your mother.” He sucked in a breath when she probed his fingers.

  “We’ll splint these fingers. That means using your hand is going to be difficult.”

  “I have to work.”

  “I know.” What I really want to know is what in the world happened.

  She asked him the standard questions, all the while probing for further injuries, including right around the gash. Was it mushy regarding the bone or just swollen? She couldn’t be sure. She would check again in a day or so once the swelling had abated.

  Miriam sutured the head wound as Gray Cloud assisted. She was using tiny stitches to minimize scarring. She did better than Astrid could have, at least now, as bone weary as Astrid felt.

  “Good job. Gray Cloud, would you please bandage him up while Miriam splints the fingers? Miriam, in the position of function, I trust you know.” She watched as her two nurses calmly and efficiently did what they were asked, as if they’d been doing this for years, not just months.

  “Now, if you feel dizzy, sit down before you fall down and get your head down between your knees. I’m sending some pain pills home with you, since you’ll probably have a raging headache. If you start to see double, or anything else unusual, come back in here. We’ll take the stitches out in ten days to two weeks. Keep your forehead clean.”

  “We change the bandage?” Gray Cloud asked.

  “You’re right. See you back here in a couple days for a clean one.”

  Except for a huge black eye, the fellow’s companion in the chair seemed to have survived well enough. She prescribed more ice packs and returned to the other room with her nurses.

  Dislocated shoulder. Usually they turned out all right, but sometimes, if a blood vessel or nerve was pinched, they could be terrible.

  “I live at the boardinghouse.” The man on the table answered her question. “And not married.”

  “You lost a couple teeth?”

  The fellow nodded. “Doesn’t happen very often.”

  With Trygve’s help they were able to lever the shoulder back in place. Miriam coached Gray Cloud as she applied a sling and swathe.

  Three eyes, already purple and swollen, would announce to the world they’d been in a fight.

  Finally, with the others gone out the door, Astrid and Miriam returned to Trygve. “You want to tell me the whole story now?”

  “Not much to it really. You know the pressure those guys have been under to get the apartment building done. They’ve been working by lantern light, and when one guy accidentally dropped something, it hit another and a fight broke out. I tried to stop it.” He slipped his tongue across the swollen split lip. “Ran into a fist.”

  “I didn’t know you were working even after dark.”

  “Just this week. There’s so much work, Thorliff would hire women, if they knew how to use a hammer and saw.”

  Miriam’s eyebrows shot up. “You think women can’t build too?” she asked, and there was a sharp edge on her voice.

  “I . . . uh . . . I don’t think they are trained for it. I know my tante Ingeborg can use a hammer and saw pretty well. But then, she does e
verything well.”

  Nice save. Astrid smiled at him. That was certainly true about her mother.

  He flinched when Miriam poured some carbolic acid on a cloth and cleaned his lip. She refilled the ice pack and waited for him to hold it on his eye.

  “That sure is cold.”

  “Ice generally is.” There was no mercy in the young woman’s voice.

  Astrid said, “Once you get home, you might want to chip off some ice and pack that eye again.”

  “I will.” Trygve stood. “Can I walk you home, Astrid? Or are you staying longer?”

  “I’ll take care of the charts,” Miriam said. “I got enough information, and we can get more if we need to.”

  Trygve grimaced. “Ja, you know where to find us.”

  Astrid threw her bloody apron in the laundry, repinned her hat, and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. “Thanks, Miriam, Gray Cloud. You both did a fine job. Next time we have a laceration, I’ll expect you to suture it.”

  Gray Cloud widened her eyes but nodded at the same time.

  They’d just gotten to the door when Miriam caught up with them. “In all the blood and mess I forgot to say thank-you.” She spoke directly to Trygve. “It is so beautiful.”

  “You are welcome. I was hoping you’d be happy with it.”

  “I am. Oh, I am.”

  Astrid couldn’t hide her grin, didn’t even try to. She knew what Miriam was referring to, for Trygve had asked her if she thought Miriam would be happy with his handiwork. She’d been so surprised at the detail on such a small piece. If those two didn’t figure out the depth of their caring for each other . . .

  Once they were finally out the door, Astrid blew out a breath and glanced up at the moon, silvery and without warmth. “What a night.”

  “She really likes it, huh?” he asked.

  “I’d say so. How could she not?” His shrug reminded her of when he was a boy and he’d brought flowers he’d picked to her. Profuse thanks always embarrassed him.

  They walked a bit before he said, “I should have known better than to get in the middle of that fight.”

  “Well, this was one way to have some time with Miriam.”