On these evenings Jan would bring his Bibles, English and Norwegian, and they would spend happy hours sharing through verses. Jan was indefatigably tough on himself in the pursuit of English, and pushed himself to improve.
It was Jan who suggested that her house needed an addition and then drew up plans for a large bedroom to be built off the back of her present parlor-bedroom. When she approved of the idea, he went to work, bringing his tools in the evenings and laboring two or three hours before returning home. Rose was concerned that the summer farm work coupled with this extra was “too much” and said so. He laughed at her fears.
“I build for us; makes strong ever’ day. Ven done, we marry.”
Rose blushed like a girl over his motivation and loved him dearly. About his farm, his obligations to Amalie and the children they talked and prayed, too. Apparently Jan spent time with Søren and Amalie discussing it, for in a few days he told her,
“Dis year I vork vit Søren, Karl, Arnie, and Kjell. Next year I gif my farm to Søren. Karl, Arnie, and Kjell haf fat’er’s part and become men for Amalie.”
“But what will you do next year?”
“Ah.” Taking her by the hand he led her toward the rise behind the house, playfully pulling her to run until she was breathless and giggling. Up the hill they trudged until they stood on the brow. Behind them in the hollow nestled Rose’s little “farm” with the stream separating it from three hundred twenty acres of Thoresen land. But Jan’s intent gaze swept over the fallow ground before them—Rose’s fields, untouched for years.
“I farm dis,” he stated calmly. The light of challenge gleamed in his eye, and he put his arm around Rose, drawing her close by his side.
She snuggled against his chest, reveling in the strength, the security. Stroking her hair he observed kindly, “Is hard life, Rose, for farmer’s vife.”
She smiled up into his face. “You know I’ll try my best. And I’ll eat gjetost the rest of my life just for you!”
“So! Still vant marry me?”
“Very much, Jan.”
“Ven? Please say.”
Rose thought for a minute. “On a Sunday, after church. Not a big wedding, like Sigrün’s, just simple with all of our friends and family.”
“And your fam’ly?”
She made a crooked smile. “I really don’t think it would be possible.”
He grunted noncommittally, “Sunday ven?”
“Three weeks?”
He agreed, folding her in his arms, kissing her firmly, seriously. “Ja, can vait.”
The next evening Søren came with Jan and worked on the house. Together they finished the siding and Søren approved.
“Seems like old times, huh?” he teased. “There will be plenty of room for both of you when this is ready. In the fall we’ll build a barn. A real one,” he chuckled. “Then Father will bring some cows over for you.”
By the end of the week it was finished.
“Vould like all house paint, now?” Jan inquired.
An image of next spring’s flowering shrubs and trees against a shining, white house floated up before Rose.
“White? With green trim?”
“Ja. Do, two days.”
Jan must have turned that day into a holiday, for after morning chores, the whole Thoresen family trooped over to paint. Amalie was as excited as Rose, chattering nonstop as she unpacked a lunch feast for them all. The primer coat went on before noon and needed to dry a few hours so the boys and Uli shed their shoes and socks and went wading in the creek. Jan took Søren up the hill to discuss crops for the unplowed acres while Rose and Amalie made coffee and laid out the lunch. While the coffee was perking Rose showed Amalie the new room. It still smelled deliciously of fresh lumber. The walls and floors needed to be sanded and oiled so it was entirely empty, but Jan was going to get to that soon. He’d improved the pantry too, rebuilding the shelves and replacing the flooring. In fact, Rose realized that her house was as much Jan’s as hers. She couldn’t admire or brag on him more.
After lunch, the crew began to paint. Amalie, Rose, and Uli worked together on the lower half. Uli labored steadily, collecting little smears on her nose and chin.
Baron sniffed her work and came away looking much the same, to their amusement. Fondly Jan ruffled Uli’s hair, and Rose felt a pang: the only father Uli had ever known would be leaving her. How glad Rose was that they would only be across the cornfields and creek from her. Steadily they worked.
“Halloo!” a feminine voice called. Søren jumped down from his ladder. It was Meg, riding one of the McKennie horses.
“Miss Rose, I’m deliverin’ a telegram to ye. Mr. Bailey was bringin’ it to me for he was knowin’ I’d be goin’ home tonight.”
Concerned, Rose took the paper and opened it.
Arrive RiverBend for wedding approximately July 15.
Tom, Abigail, Jamie”
“Oh, Jan! Jan! They’re coming! Tom and Abbie and Jamie—they’ll be here for our wedding! Oh, isn’t it wonderful?”
“Ja, is gud. Make you ver happy?”
“Oh, it’s just too good to be true, isn’t it? I never expected Tom to decide to leave his business or . . . ” A puzzled expression crossed her face. “But Jan, how did they know when the wedding was? We only decided last week and . . .”
A suspicious thought occurred to her. “Jan, how did they know?”
He raised his eyebrows innocently.
“Kjell! Come here, please, Kjell.” The boy came forward obediently. “Kjell, did Onkel send a wire last week when you were in town?”
Kjell opened his mouth to answer, but Jan ran to him, threw him over his shoulder, and carried him off, tickling him unmercifully.
“That man!” Rose expostulated to Amalie and Søren. “Do you know, I’m sure he wired Tom and Abby to come?”
“Aren’t you glad?” Søren grinned.
“Why, you must have been in on it!”
“Ja, ve all,” Amalie returned demurely, and she and Søren laughed at Rose’s discomfiture.
The Thursday evening before the wedding, Jan took Rose to town in his wagon. The sun had just set, leaving the sky awash with red, purple, and gold as the train steamed into the station. Mr. Bailey and the conductor began to unload freight while Rose anxiously searched for her brother and his family. A few minutes later, grinning and hair disheveled as usual, Tom stepped down and waved. He turned and helped Abigail who had Jamie in her arms, and Rose waited impatiently to hug them all. Tired and grimy from the long trip, they were nevertheless as happy as Rose was, who alternately laughed and cried over them.
Baby Jamie waved his hands and crowed amidst the confusion. Suddenly Rose remembered Jan. He was standing off a bit, hat in hand. That steady, scrutinizing look was on his face as he waited patiently.
“Tom, Abigail,” Rose said proudly, “I would like you to meet Mr. Jan Thoresen, my fiancé. Jan, this is my brother Thomas, Abigail his wife, and little James.”
A moment of discomfort passed as the two men took the other’s measure. Jan spoke first as they shook hands.
“I am ver pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Blake,” he said mildly.
Rose knew he must have worked out the sentence in advance.
Tom answered, a little patronizing, “A pleasure to meet you, sir. And I hope you are aware of what a great girl you are about to marry.”
“Tom!” Abby remonstrated. She tried to shake Jan’s hand, but Jan didn’t release Tom’s and answered seriously.
“Am getting best vife in vorl’. Ve so glad you come. Make Rose ver happy.”
A little shamed by Jan’s graciousness, Tom gave in and nodded. Rose had chosen him and chosen well.
Little James was in Rose’s arms, and she showed him to Jan. Jamie fixed his wide brown eyes on the big man who merely stared back steadily. After a few moments, Jan reached out for him, and Jamie came willingly, grabbing for Jan’s tie and jabbering to him. Exchanging approving looks, Tom and Abby went about collecting
their luggage.
Twilight, stretching the prairie out limitlessly in the rich afterglow of sunset, descended on them as they drove to Rose’s home. Abby exclaimed at its beauty.
“It’s big,” Tom marveled. “It seems almost endless. I can see so far!”
“Tomorrow I will show you around,” Rose promised.
Tom and Abby stayed with Rose until Saturday afternoon. She drove them out in the country where seeing could speak louder than any description, and they in turn helped her with her chores and gardening. Jamie fell in love with Snowfoot and played with her ears and collar as often as the little goat would hold still for it. Snowfoot also completely fascinated Jamie when she ate the larger part of Jamie’s straw hat. Baron remained safely aloof from the little guy who hadn’t mastered walking yet, but kept close watch on him whenever he was outside as if he understood that Jamie needed supervision.
The visitors tasted fresh goat’s milk and cheese (Tom and Abby both marveled at Rose’s quick milking skill), enjoyed a Norwegian dinner with Thoresens’, and had tea with the McKennie clan. The two days passed rapidly. Saturday evening Rose drove them to Mrs. Owens’ where they would spend the rest of their visit.
The next day was Sunday, Rose and Jan’s wedding day.
At the close of service, Jan took Rose by the arm and, standing before Pastor Medford and the congregation, they said their wedding vows.
Jan was calm; he repeated each line flawlessly. Rose’s voice trembled and caught until Jan pressed her hand in reassurance. Stronger and sure, she finished. He bent low and kissed her, briefly, gently.
Family and friends crowded around them laughing, hugging, shaking Jan’s hand, and kissing the bride. During this time Jan kept Rose’s hand possessively in his, and she smiled at his steadfast “I don’t care; I’m not letting go” expression when he returned her look.
They were ushered outside where tables laden with food awaited the whole company. It was a modest spread compared to Sigrün’s wedding, but with plenty for all to enjoy themselves and eat their fill.
For about an hour they visited with their friends and received all the well-wishing they could ask for. Still Jan held Rose’s hand, even when Uli, realizing Onkel wouldn’t be coming home, clutched morosely at his leg. He boosted her up and held her, big girl that she was, with one arm and tickled her cheek with his rough chin. As he set her down he pointed to Rose’s brother across the yard. He was in deep conversation with Jacob while Abigail and Vera were obviously discussing babies.
“Pastor and Tom gud friends today.”
“Yes. Tom said he and Abby would spend the next few days with the Medfords seeing some of the country. If I know Pastor, Tom will be hearing all about the Lord, and we may see a new man emerge. I’m praying so.”
“Ja, dat is gud. Ve go now?”
“Now?”
“Ja, if you please.”
Rose glanced around. There was no reason not to, except for the little quiver in her stomach.
“All right.”
Leaving her for the first time that day, he strode to the grove of trees where Prince was hitched to the buggy. In just a minute he returned, driving right into the yard where she stood. No one misunderstood his intention; he was taking his bride away. The crowd gathered around, kissing and hugging Rose goodbye.
Through the ladies pressing her, Tom made his way to Rose and whispered, “He’s a fine gentleman, Rose. I wish you great joy.” He took her arm and helped her into the buggy and Jan and Rose drove away.
Outside town on the country road, the air was still and warm. Prince trotted briskly, for he knew this was the way home to his cool pasture. For the first few miles they relaxed in the quietness of the drive. Then Jan’s arm went about her waist drawing her closer to him. He gently caressed her arm; she leaned her head on his shoulder.
At home they separated, Jan to the stable where he took care of Prince and moved Snowfoot’s tether. Rose was in the house, first changing into a cool cotton dress, then trying to decide what needed doing. She ended up making coffee. When Jan came in they both felt a little self-conscious. Rose realized they’d never been alone in the house together except the day she had sent Søren home. Jan’s bags were still by the door where he had left them in the morning as he arrived to drive her to church. He picked them up.
“I take care of clothes?”
Rose nodded. It was much too early for dinner; still, she began to peel potatoes anyway. In the new bedroom she heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing, Jan sitting on the bed causing the board to squeak. She had a pan of potatoes boiling merrily when he came out, changed from his suit into fresh work clothes. His empty bags he carried up to the loft.
“Need vater?” he asked when he came down.
“I think we have plenty for now, thank you.”
Nodding, he roamed through the parlor, examining the books on the shelves, finally settling in her rocker in the kitchen. Baron settled beside the chair, content.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Ja, takk takk.”
She brought it to him, sugared just as he liked it.
He sipped it appreciatively.
“We’ll have cold chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy tonight for supper if that suits you,” she offered. “There’s dry apple pie, too, made fresh yesterday.”
He made approving sounds through another sip.
Rose went back to the stove to find something to do.
“Rose.”
She stirred the bubbling pot and answered without turning around.
“Yes?”
“Come sit wit’ me?”
He pulled her gently onto his lap and they rocked, just a little, back and forth. His arms were folded over her gently.
“My Rose like?”
“Umm-hmm.” It was nice, just resting on his chest, feeling his whiskery cheek rasp against her hair and sniffing the clean, now familiar smell of his skin. They rocked together, the moment lengthening into a comfortable spell.
“Life ver long,” Jan reflected. “Like prairie road. Go far, past can see?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“It gud, know God go wit’, all down long road. ’Round bend in road sometime is hurt, some bad t’ing. When years go by, I come to t’ink all love passed to me. No vife for me ever ’gain. Den, at next turn in road, I fin’ you, little Rose.”
He kissed the top of her head before going on. “Haf love you, Rose, for all time you here.”
“Have you, Jan?” Rose turned so she could see his eyes, and he kissed her forehead.
“Ja, dear one. Now, today, you my own. No more lonely heart. Never leave Rose by self all vinter to cry and get thin.”
She gladly lifted her face up for him to kiss again.
Chapter 32
Winter’s first big blizzard stormed out of the north and blasted around their house. Jan bundled up and fought the flurry of blinding snow out to their new barn to do the chores while Baron broke trail just in front of him, barking and leaning into the wind. Besides Prince and Snowfoot, Jan’s wagon team and two cows now occupied the barn and depended on Jan for their food, water, and milking.
Rose had learned how to make big, hearty breakfasts: hot cereal, eggs, bacon and ham, biscuits, butter, jam, milk and coffee were waiting for Jan when he stumbled into the pantry and shook off the snow and ice. He warmed a moment by the stove before they sat down to eat of their bounty. Sipping his second cup of coffee, Jan paused before bringing out the big Bible. He insisted on reading in English every morning to improve his pronunciation, and today he began:
Da vilderness and da solitary place
shall be glad for dem;
and da desert shall rejoi’,
and blossom as da rose.
It shall blossom abundantly,
and rejoi’ even wid joy and singing:
da glory of Lebanon shall be giv’ unto it,
da excellency of Carmel and Sharon,
dey shall see da glo
ry of da Lord,
and da excellency of our Gott.
And da ransom’ of da Lord shall return,
and come to Zion wid songs
and everlasting joy upon der heads:
dey shall obtain joy and gladness,
and sorrow and sighing shall flee ’way.
When he closed the book Rose laid her hand on his.
“Jan.”
“Vat is it, little Rose?”
“I’m going to have a baby.”
The slow smile that overspread his face brought tears to her eyes.
“Are you, little Rose?” His blue, blue eyes deepened. “Den ve are most blessed, ja?”
About the Author
Vikki Kestell is a writer and Bible teacher. She holds a Ph.D. in Organizational Learning and Instructional Technologies from the University of New Mexico and has more than 20 years of experience as a program manager and writing/communication professional in government, academia, semiconductor manufacturing, nonprofit organizations, and health care.
Vikki belongs to Tramway Community Church in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where she teaches an evening Bible study for working women. Vikki and her husband Conrad Smith make their home in Albuquerque. Visit her website, www.vikkikestell.com or on Facebook.
Pronunciation Guide
Amalie Ah´-ma-lee
Jan Yahn
Kjell Chell
Sigrün Sig´-run
Søren Soor-ren
Thoresen Tor´-eh-sen
A Rose Blooms Twice Page 26