A Harvest of Hope (11 page)

“I kept a plate warm for you. Do you want it now?”

“I guess so. These guys already ate breakfast.” They both nodded.

Trygve asked, “Where is Hjelmer now?”

“Off selling wells and windmills.” Thorliff dug into the plate set before him. “I could put you on the crew working on the apartment house, or one of the three individual houses. Which do you prefer? Toby Valders is heading the crew on the apartment house. Those six units have to be done before winter. Six families from the tent camp could live there. How about you report to him tomorrow morning?”

“Standard carpenter's pay?”

“Ja.”

“Sounds good. I will.”

“And, Jonathan, are you helping Lars, or can I put you to work too?”

“I don't know. I'll be helping with the corn and digging potatoes, and we are finishing up the new dormitory section. So many new students applied we had to turn them away.”

He grinned. “I never had any idea how much work still needed to be done in the fall. But then, I always was back to school by now. Funny. Here I have a college education in agriculture, and they never taught about how much plain old work is involved. It was all theories.”

Thorliff nodded. “My father brought us over from the old country so that we could build a farm, something we couldn't do in Norway. He too failed to mention how much work that takes. Even when I was very little, I learned to feed animals and chickens and keep the woodbox full. I loved the sheep best back then.”

Jonathan grimaced. “And I am just finding out.”

The end of the day. At last. Thorliff was ready for it. More than ready for it. He clomped up the back steps to his porch.

Elizabeth was sitting at the table on the porch with an empty coffee cup and a pile of mail. She beamed as he approached. A glorious smile. Glorious woman.

He kissed her and sat down. “You look good. Rosy-cheeked.”

“I feel good.” She handed him several letters. “These are for you.”

He looked at one from the bank. “Ah. Here's the loan extension. Good.” He hooked his thumb in a corner and ripped it open.

Thorliff unfolded the single page. There should have been more than one sheet for a loan reset. He read the page again and slammed it down on the table. “That overblown piece of horse manure! Who in the world does he think he is?”

“What is it?” Elizabeth stared at him openmouthed.

“Valders . . . that . . .” Thorliff snatched up the letter and stormed down off the porch, out into the street. Valders was standing at the front door of the bank just locking up.

Thorliff marched double-quick over to him, blocking the man's way. He waved the letter in Anner's face. “What is this?”

“I believe it is clear enough. I'm denying your loan request.”

“You can't do that!” Thorliff was yelling. And he didn't care.

“I examined your loan records and repayment schedule. You are overextended. Pay down your existing obligations, and I'll consider giving you more money.”

“I remind you that the community owns this bank so that we have a pool of funds to build with. You were hired to manage those funds, not play God, and you cannot—”

“I was hired to take care of that money, and in my considered opinion, giving you more money when you already owe so much would be foolhardy. The matter is closed.” He turned away and started walking.

Thorliff was too angry to think. He grabbed Anner's lapel and stopped him, pulling him around to face him. Thorliff realized his fist was drawn back ready to smash this infuriating popinjay in the face, but he hesitated. Anner's eyes widened in terror. The little man shrank aside.

And that terror pleased Thorliff! He wanted Anner to feel some of the intense emotion he felt himself. “The matter is not closed! I filed the request so that you would have a record of it on paper. Anner Valders, you do
not
have the authority to either grant or deny that request! You process it! Period!” He shoved Anner back and let go of the coat. Anner nearly fell.

Anner appeared as frightened as Thorliff wanted him to feel. “F-first you d-d-defend a bank robber c-caught in the act and then you let him off with no consequences at all, and now you threaten me! Thorliff Bjorklund, you will never get another penny from this bank!” He scuttled away so fast he was almost running.

Thorliff desperately wanted to run after him, to punch him, to somehow spend this fury that was boiling up and over.

Jonathan came charging up. “Thorliff! What in heaven . . . ?” He was huffing and puffing. “I saw you from up the street, but
I couldn't get here in time. You nearly beat him up! What's going on?”

“I don't know.” Thorliff wagged his head. He wanted to punch somebody. Hit anything. He could not settle his nerves.

What now? They needed that money. Winter was coming quickly, flying at them, like the cold winds that would soon blow fiercely. All those people in the Tent Town—women and children as well as men. They depended on Thorliff, on Blessing. If they could not find shelter, they would leave, go somewhere with warm houses and better chances for survival.

And everything Thorliff and all these others were working for would disappear like smoke in a wind.

B
reakfast in the dining room was another experience altogether, with a pretty young girl placing a basket of hot rolls on her table, which had a yellow rose in a small bud vase. Did they have a rose garden out behind the boardinghouse? She should remember the girl's name.
Lily
Mae
. That was it. Miriam inhaled the fragrance and smiled at Lily Mae, who set a plate of fried pork chop, eggs, and fried potatoes in front of her.

“All this?”

“Yes, miss.” Her smile seemed even brighter next to her dark skin.

“Oh my goodness. This is enough for three people.”

“No one goes away hungry from our dining room.”

“Please thank the cook.”

“Oh, I will. Our cook is my ma. They calls her Mrs. Sam. We been here since Miss Sophie took over the boardinghouse. They's quite a story here, you know.” When a man from another table motioned her, she smiled again. “You call if'n you wants somethin' else.”

Miriam stared out the front window as she finished her breakfast. She returned to her room, grabbed a sweater, and then left
for the hospital. Mrs. Bjorklund would be by later too. What a day this was already turning into.

Stepping into the hospital door was like coming home. The thought made her shake her head. She'd not been there long enough to feel that way, surely not.

“Well, look who's here.” Corabell's grin filled her face. “I thought you might sleep until noon.”

“Thanks, but I was too excited.”

“Excited? To come to work?”

“I guess so. And I was hungry. I thought I'd see Vera in the dining room.”

“She was beat. Said she was going straight to bed.” Corabell waved a hand apparently at random. “Miriam Hastings, this is Gray Cloud, and this is Dawn Breaking. They came to Blessing while you were gone.”

“How do you do.” Miriam smiled at Gray Cloud, whose amazing hair was very black and very thick and—to be envied—very straight and looked easy to braid. She nodded and almost smiled. Dawn Breaking, with hair just as straight and lustrous, smiled far more readily and was more fluent in English. She was carrying an armload of sheets from the clothesline, so the two set to folding them. Thanks to the North Dakota breeze, they didn't even need to iron them.

“Has Dr. Astrid been in yet?”

“Oh yes. She always comes before the shift change. We don't have very many patients right now, so Gray Cloud and I have been reviewing the last lessons. She is getting really good at bandaging and taking vitals. Dr. Astrid told us about the new baby. She said you did a really good job.”

“I'll never forget it.” Miriam looked around. “I thought I'd read through the charts and get acquainted for tomorrow. Is there anything else I should know?”

Corabell shrugged. “Gray Cloud and I are counting medications for the order, and I have to make sure all the charts are up
to date. Vera got the last of the crates emptied and put away last night. You're on days tomorrow, right? Dr. Astrid is going to teach the triage process tomorrow right after breakfast so the night shift can stay for it. She insists we have to be ready for any emergency. I'm not sure what kind of emergency we could have here, but we will be ready.”

Miriam spent the next hour going through the charts and writing herself notes. She wandered around the hospital, stopping in the kitchen to chat with Mrs. Geddick, who had been the cook ever since the hospital opened.

“It smells so good in here,” Miriam said after the greeting.

“Nothing smells as good as bread just out of the oven.” Mrs. Geddick tipped the loaf pans on their sides when she set them on the counter, and when all of them were out of the oven, she flipped them over and set the loaves on top of the racks. Then dipping her fingers in the dish of butter, she spread it on the loaves. “I bake bread now for the grocery store too. They say mine is almost as good as Ingeborg's.” Her smile showed one missing front tooth.

“From what I hear, that is the best compliment someone can give you. What does she do that is different?”

Mrs. Geddick shrugged. “Will you be here for dinner?”

“No, but I will be tomorrow. I'll be back to work on days for this week.”

“Welcome home.”

“Thank you.” She turned when she heard someone calling her name and returned to the hall.

“Are you ready?” Ingeborg asked.

“I am.” She waved good-bye to the others, and the two of them strolled out the door and down Main Street. “What are you planning to make for Emmy?”

“I thought two dresses, two jumpers, a skirt, and a waist. I started knitting her a sweater. The one she has comes just below her elbows. I think someone washed it in hot water.”

“I never learned to knit. My mother was a beautiful and very popular dressmaker. She sewed for some of the wealthier folks in Chicago. We all learned fine stitching and always helped with the hems. Even with the sewing machine, we spent hours hemming those full skirts on ball gowns and fancy dresses. I knew I wanted to learn to be a nurse, partly, I think, so I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life hemming.”

Ingeborg smiled and patted her arm. “From what I hear, you made a wise choice.”

“How are baby Munro and mother doing?”

“Just fine. We can stop and see them if you'd like.”

They walked in silence a short while. Then Miriam asked, “The party Sunday. Do people in Blessing always have such a good time together?”

“Well, not everyone was there, of course, but I so enjoyed how many came after dinner for the ball game. I didn't expect that.”

“Probably everyone knows winter is coming and there won't be too many more days like that.” Together they mounted the steps to Blessing Mercantile and pushed open the door, setting the overhead bell to tinkling.

“Well, look who's here.” Penny Bjorklund came around the end of the battle-scarred counter. “How can I help you this morning?” She held out both of her hands, her smile brightening the entire room.

“I realized yesterday that Emmy's clothes are far too short and too tight. How remiss of me not to notice that earlier. So Miriam is here to help me choose materials for some new clothes. Have you two met?”

“Oh yes. Miriam came to visit me not long after they arrived and purchased fabric for a summer dress. She realized shirtwaists and wool skirts were too warm for our summers.”

Miriam smiled. “I wore that dress every day. It was so light I could rinse it out at night and wear it again in the morning. Our nurses' aprons cover it all anyway.”

Penny nodded and started down an aisle. “Well, come over here. I just got a shipment of corduroy and some wools in—shirt flannel too. I have a blue plaid that will look very nice on Emmy. And I know she loves red. I have that in corduroy for a jumper.”

As she spoke, she pulled out the bolts of fabric and set them on the cutting table.

Ingeborg studied them. “I think that blue would be nice for a jumper too and probably the brown for a skirt. If we used the flannel for a dress with long sleeves, that would be warm.”

Miriam nodded and fingered the brown wool serge. “This should be warm too. What about a vest?”

“She loves wearing her deerskin dresses with leggings. But they are all small too. I can put a gusset in the things I've made and add a flounce, but I don't have deerskin to add to her other things.”

Penny tapped her chin with one finger. “You know, I think I have some things of Linnea's packed away. I know I gave some to . . . hmm, can't think who. I'll see if I can find them. Things got mixed up when we moved back from Bismarck.”

“I thought to wash her Indian things and pack them away for her. Someday she might want them.”

“Is she really going to be staying with you permanently now?”

“Yes. Isn't our God merciful? Her uncle could have just kept her in the tribe, and we'd not have heard from them again.”

“He is a wise man. That's for sure.”

Ingeborg turned to Miriam and gave her a very brief history of Emmy's situation while Penny cut the fabrics and they decided on a couple of trims.

They were just finishing up when Mrs. Magron set the bell to tinkling.

“I'll be right there,” Penny sang out. She folded all the goods and carried them to the counter to total up the amount.

“I'm going to pay cash today,” Ingeborg said. “You needn't put it on credit.”

“You sure?”

Ingeborg nodded and turned to the dumpy little lady waiting. “Mrs. Magron, what are you making today?”

“Oh, I started a coat and didn't get enough material. I'm hoping Penny still has some of it left.”

“You'll be at quilting on Thursday?”

“Oh ja. It has been too long since we met.”

Ingeborg turned to Miriam. “Have you met Mrs. Magron? She and her husband have a farm south of town.”

Miriam smiled, but the other woman only nodded, and that a bit stiffly.

“Miriam Hastings is one of our nursing students.”

“I know.” Mrs. Magron turned to Penny. “I think I will come back later. I forgot . . . I think I need to bring in what I have so we can make sure it matches.” She turned and nearly ran out the door.

Ingeborg stared after her. “What was that all about?” She frowned at Penny. “Mrs. Magron is so quiet and sweet, usually a peacemaker. Why the sudden change?”

“Hildegunn and Mr. Valders?” Penny said softly. She emphasized the
mister
.

Miriam felt like she'd been kicked in the shins. Had that really been about her? What was going on?

“We'll see about this,” Ingeborg murmured.

“Please, don't pay any attention.” Miriam tried to smile. She touched Ingeborg's arm. “Let's go see the Munros.” Miriam tried to convince herself the woman was just shy, but somehow that rang false, even to her.