A Harvest of Hope
Page 32
The sun was already sinking, flaming the sky and sending shadows to blue the snow. As cold as it was, she was grateful the walk was not far. She’d taken Ingeborg’s advice and always wore a scarf to pull up over her mouth and nose. Even so, she stopped at the gate to the boardinghouse, just to watch the sun give up and sink beyond the distant horizon line. Oh, how beautiful. She’d never noticed sunsets and sunrises in Chicago. Here one had to stop and stand in awe at such magnificence.
Letting a sigh escape, she trudged up the steps that had recently been swept and pushed open the door to the boardinghouse. Fragrances of fresh bread, cooking beef, and coffee tantalized her to go straight into the dining room, but since no one was at the desk, she unwrapped her scarf and climbed the stairs to her room, half expecting Corabell to meet her with an invitation to have supper together.
A note in the door hanger caught her attention. She pulled it out and read it before she hung her coat in the closet.
May I join you for supper? She smiled at the briefness and his signature. Had he read her mind or what? She sat down in the rocker and read it again. Was this another one of the little things that Ingeborg would say was God sprinkling blessings? After what she had experienced, she gave up and admitted that only God could have put all the people and happenings in the right place and in the right order to save both Elizabeth and her tiny son, and then gave her the knowledge to do the right thing. If she’d not been there, they might have died. Every time she thought of those events, she felt a surge of gratitude. Death had come so close that night. But when she had checked on Elizabeth just before leaving, Thorliff was sitting with her, holding one of her hands while her other arm was cuddling their infant son. Love glowed in that room.
And now she knew for absolute certain. Love glowed in her too. She tipped her head against the back of the rocker and fingered the carved heart she now wore tucked under her uniform. The heart Trygve gave her. He’d said she was in his heart.
And now she knew. She knew. She loved Trygve Knutson the way a woman should love a man, this man that God had given her, another one of His amazing gifts. Now she knew too that God loved her, Miriam Hastings, and that she loved Trygve and wanted nothing more than to be his wife. To share the love that shone from his eyes. That she had just seen with Thorliff and Dr. Elizabeth.
Thank you, Lord, he is coming to supper. How would she tell him? Too many people in the dining room. It was too cold out to go for a walk. Or was it? Do I write him a note? Blurt it out? Lord, what should I do? I have nothing to give him. She had embroidered three handkerchiefs with his initials, TK, on them for his Christmas present. She heard the bell calling them to supper. If she went down now, would he be there?
Should she wait? Miriam shook her head. How silly could one get? She ordered the butterflies somersaulting in her middle to go back to sleep. She washed and tried to put some order in her hair, but when the second pin fell to the floor, she leaned on the washstand and stared into the mirror. Her fingers were shaking too much to insert the hairpins. How preposterous. Bundling the mass into a snood, she shook her head at the face in the mirror, pinched her cheeks to bring up some color, and headed for the door.
Just as she reached for the knob, someone knocked.
“Here I am.” Ignoring the shock, she pulled the door open to see Corabell smiling at her.
“You have a guest waiting for you.” Her eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “I was hoping you would sit at a table with me, but I know you would prefer your guest.” Her giggle trailed over her shoulder as she went to her room.
“Aren’t you going down?” There went the butterflies again.
“In a bit. You go ahead.” More giggles. Corabell was giggling. Ah, yes, so many changes as to seem overwhelming at times.
When she started down the stairs, she saw him leaning against the banister post, looking up at her. His smile widened. Surely he had the most perfect smile she had ever seen. She trailed her hand down the carved wooden banister, almost wishing she could turn and run back upstairs. But not tonight. Tonight she would tell him.
“I was afraid you might have to work late.” His voice set her heart to double time. Deep and vibrant, full of warmth. Did he use this warm tone with others, or was this the way he talked only with her?
“I’m glad you came.” She reached the bottom step and slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “I wanted you to come.”
“Really? Perhaps that was what I was hearing.”
“What?”
“Your invitation.” Together they walked into the dining room, and he pulled out a chair at a table for two, not where she usually sat.
“Maisie said she reserved this just for us.” His hand brushed her shoulder after he pushed her chair back in. “Tonight we are not going to hurry, so no one better have an emergency of any kind.”
How do I tell him? What if he has changed his mind? Crazy thoughts chased each other through her mind while they ate.
“Dessert tonight is apple pie,” Lily Mae told them when she took their plates away.
“How did you know that is my favorite?” Trygve smiled up at her. “And Mrs. Sam makes pies that you never forget.”
“Actually, I baked the pies today, but everyone says they’s good. No complaints.”
“Then thank you.” He looked to Miriam, who nodded. She’d never made a pie in her life. Perhaps Ingeborg or his mother would teach her. Or Mrs. Jeffers.
Slowly the other diners pushed back their chairs and left the room, with some people going to the parlor but most to their rooms. Miriam scraped up the last of the apple juice on her plate.
Tell him now before someone else interrupts.
“What is it? Something is bothering you.”
“I have so much to tell you, I don’t know where to begin.” Help me, Lord. How strange it felt to have thoughts like that. And yet . . . how comforting to know He listened.
She leaned forward. “Trygve Knutson, yes, I love you and yes, I will marry you.” The words came out in a rush, tripping over each other and her tongue.
His eyes widened, delight started in his eyes and then pulled his cheeks into a smile. “You mean that? You are sure now?” He reached across the table and took her hand, his fingers warm and firm.
She nodded. “I have learned three things since Christmas.”
“And they are?”
“That God is who He says He is, and He loves me.” She paused, trying to corral the words and thoughts so she could speak without stammering.
“That’s two.”
“I love you.”
“You are sure?” He narrowed his eyes. “Absolutely?” He took her other hand and laid his arms on the table, their hands clasped in the middle, his thumbs drawing magnetic circles on the backs of her hands.
She nodded. “Absolutely. I know it took me a long time to be sure, but if you still want to marry me, I . . . I want to be Mrs. Trygve Knutson for the rest of our lives.”
He raised one hand to his face and kissed her knuckles, first one, and then the next.
A thrill charged up her arm and straight into her heart. She wove her fingers through his.
“You are sure you want to live in Blessing, bring your family here, and start a new life? I know you have to graduate first, but . . .” His forehead wrinkled. “That is so far away.”
“Not really, not the way time flies.”
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Now?” Her voice squeaked.
“Yes. I have to kiss you, and I do not want to do that here.”
“It’s cold out there.”
“I know, but I don’t think that will be a problem. Get your coat.”
When they stepped out on the porch, he pointed to the east. “Look. The moon.”
“Ohh. How beautiful.”
The moon threw shadows across the snow and seemed to smile right at them. In perfect step they went down the three stairs and turned to look at the moon again, their breaths a puff of mist in front
of them. With her arm locked securely in his, she leaned her head against the wool of his coat.
“I want to shout for everyone to hear: She loves me! Miriam Hastings has promised to change her name to Knutson.” He laughed and pulled her closer to him, if that were possible. “December twenty-seventh, nineteen hundred and five, will go down in history, our history anyway, as the night she said yes.”
She shivered. “We need to walk.”
“Or.” He turned her around and led her back to the porch and up the steps. But instead of opening the door, he led her off to the side, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her. Cupping her face in his hands, he whispered, “Are you warm?”
“I am now. Thank you.” Even through his thick coat, she could feel his heart beating against her cheek. Fall and graduation were so far away. Fall and graduation would be here before she knew it. Would she be sorry she’d not be nursing at the Morganstein Hospital in Chicago? She would always have a place to work here in Blessing.
An arrow thought struck! She pulled back to look up into his shadowed face. “Will you mind my nursing here in this hospital?”
“Do you mean, must you stay home?”
“Once we are married, yes.”
He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Not at first, but once we have children . . .”
“Good.” She looked up again. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“We have a lifetime.”
“Not really. My family will live with us.”
“Of course. I hope Tonio decides to go back to school, but I have a feeling he is a man now and will want to work instead.”
“He might decide to stay in Chicago.” The idea made her shudder. “Oh, I hope not.”
“Me too.” This time it was a shiver, not a shudder that jolted her.
“You are cold. Let’s go in. We don’t have to make all these decisions tonight.”
“True, but I want you to know what you are getting into.”
“Ah, Miriam, my love, you are worth any kind of difficulty. We will work these things out when we need to.” He held the door open for her. “Do you work tomorrow day again?”
“I do.”
“Then I will be here for supper again.”
“Good.”
She trailed a hand on the banister going up the stairs, hugging the secrets to her heart. Trygve loves me. God loves me. Was this one of the reasons she was brought to Blessing? And to think she’d almost refused to come.
This was indeed a harvest season of change, changes beyond her hopes and dreams. Her mother used to repeat Bible verses about that very thing: a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.
True, but love stayed around forever, in spite of the changing seasons. She had seen it, and now she believed it.
Lauraine Snelling is the award-winning author of over 70 books, fiction and nonfiction, for adults and young adults. Her books have sold over 3 million copies. Besides writing books and articles, she teaches at writers’ conferences across the country. She and her husband make their home in Tehachapi, California.
Books by Lauraine Snelling
SONG OF BLESSING
To Everything a Season
A Harvest of Hope
An Untamed Heart
RED RIVER OF THE NORTH
An Untamed Land
A New Day Rising
A Land to Call Home
The Reapers’ Song
Tender Mercies
Blessing in Disguise
RETURN TO RED RIVER
A Dream to Follow
Believing the Dream
More Than a Dream
DAUGHTERS OF BLESSING
A Promise for Ellie
Sophie’s Dilemma
A Touch of Grace
Rebecca’s Reward
HOME TO BLESSING
A Measure of Mercy
No Distance Too Far
A Heart for Home
WILD WEST WIND
Valley of Dreams
Whispers in the Wind
A Place to Belong
DAKOTAH TREASURES
Ruby
Pearl
Opal
Amethyst
SECRET REFUGE
Daughter of Twin Oaks
Sisters of the Confederacy
The Long Way Home
A Secret Refuge 3-in-1
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