A Harvest of Hope (27 page)

She set her things down, cut open the envelopes, and lay down on the bed to read. One from Mercy and, surprise of surprises, one from Este. She read his first.

Dear Miriam,

We are all doing well here. I like my job. Joy and Truth are doing very well in school. We are happy at the hospital. We miss our mum bad, but I know she is in heaven with Father and they are both happy again.

We miss you too.

Fall is here.

Your brother,
Este

Miriam laid the thin paper down on her chest and stared at the ceiling. He wrote to her. Este wrote to her. In spite of hating writing. It wasn't that he couldn't. After all, he had completed eighth grade with high marks, but that didn't mean he liked to write. Or read, for that matter. He did not mind reading as much as writing. She remembered his saying that one time.

The room was growing dim, due to the sun setting so much earlier. Instead of reading it again, she made herself get up and light the lamp beside her bed. Lying down again, she reread it.
Unbidden, the words tiptoed through her mind.
Thank you, God
in heaven, that Este wrote to me.
Did God really care for her so much that He made Este write to her? That was an even more shocking thought. What would Father Devlin have to say if she happened to mention such silliness to him?

Now
that
caused a snort to erupt.
Miriam Hastings, how you carry on
. She folded the first letter, slid it back in the envelope, and drew out the second. From the differences in penmanship, she knew her sisters had collaborated.

Dearest Miriam,

I have a feeling you are going to be mighty surprised to be receiving a letter from Este. I wish I could be there to see your face. I want you to know we did not even force him to write. He is so grateful for his job and loves the garden better but does well in the kitchen too. Our Tonio is such a hard worker and hates laziness, as you well know. He's still at his job loading railroad cars, and his boss notices how hard he works. Perhaps one day you'll even hear from him.

Nurse Korsheski said that she wants me to go into nursing school. I don't believe for a minute that I could pass the entrance exam, and I told her that. So you can guess what she has done. She has given me copies of the past tests so I can find out where my weaknesses are. Then I will know what I need to study the most. Is she not the most amazing of women? She speaks so highly of you and promises me I shall become a nurse like my sister. O Lord God, would that I could.

The others are doing well. I will let them tell you. Don't you be worrying about us, you hear? As Mother said, God is taking care of us, like He said He would.

Love,
Your sister, Mercy

Dear Sister,

Thank you for your last letter. We like hearing from you. Mother saved all your letters so sometimes we read them all again. That makes you seem closer somehow.

Este said to tell you he will write another time. He loves working in the garden, and Mrs. Korsheski says he is a natural gardener. Like our mother. Remember how she loved her gardens?

I like being back in school again, and I help Mercy with the mending at night. Right now we have a stack of mending to catch up on. Truth reads to us as we sew in the evening. Este reads books on gardening that he gets from the gardener. Oh, he is learning how to keep that furnace going at the hospital too.

Sometimes I wish Tonio worked at the hospital like we do. Mrs. Korsheski said again that she will have a position for him if he ever needs one. Don't you think that learning plumbing and repairs would be better than having a strong back, especially when winter comes?

Truth says I am being long-winded.

We love and miss you.
Joy

Dear Miriam,

School is going good. I like my classes but arithmetic is hard. Tonio said he would help me, but he works too late.

It is getting dark early, so we need the lamps almost as soon as we come home. I feel bad using up the kerosene so I can finish my lessons. I try to do it while it is still light by the window.

But Tonio told me not to worry. This winter will not be like the last one. We have money to buy oil for the lamp and fuel for heat.

Do you need any more of your winter things?

I love to read your letters,
Truth

Like the other, Miriam reread this letter too and sighed. At least they were all doing well. Mrs. Korsheski had indeed lived up to her word to provide so that Miriam could stay here in Blessing and finish her contract. Eyes closed, Miriam let herself think what seeing her family again would be like. The others would grow taller. The boys stronger.

Another sigh escaped into the silence of the room.

A knock at the door jerked her upright.

“Miriam, it's Maisie. I brought your tray.”

Oh no. She'd fallen asleep. For how long? She called, “Thank you!” and opened the door.

Mrs. Landsverk handed her the tray. “Your Trygve was by, but he did not want you disturbed. He asked me to tell you he will come by for you.”

“Why would he . . . ? Oh, the party. I'd forgotten about the party.”

“You will so enjoy it! He is a fine young man.” Mrs. Landsverk closed the door on her way out.

Miriam set the tray down by the window. Nearly dark already. She must eat quickly. Trygve would be there soon.

So she would enjoy the party, eh? Hardly. What she wanted to enjoy was sleep. And that would probably not come for long hours yet. She sighed and picked up her fork.

S
he wasn't waiting in the vestibule.

Trygve paused. Hadn't that been their agreement? And no one was behind the desk either. He checked in the dining room. No, not there either. For some reason he felt a bit uncomfortable going up and knocking on her door.

Maisie descended the stairs and smiled at him. “If you are looking for Miss Hastings, she'll be down shortly. I just took her up some supper.”

“Thank you. Do you take such good care of all your guests?”

“I try to. Some are just easier than others. Can I get you some coffee while you wait?”

“No thanks. How are the repairs to the building coming along?”

“Wisely, they took care of the roof first, so we are weather tight again. That east wall will take some time. But we have only two rooms that are not habitable, and we have windows boarded up. It's not pleasant to live in a room that is constantly dark, but our guests are being so patient while waiting for the windows to be replaced. No complaining to speak of.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“And we are grateful for every day the bad weather holds off.”

He heard a door shut upstairs and watched as the shoes and
skirt descending the stairs quickly switched to Miriam's smiling face. As always, his heart kicked into a faster pace. Lovely, graceful, desirable—words that danced through his mind. Would that she could feel the same way he did. Crossing to the bottom of the staircase, he held out his arm, bent at the elbow for her to accept. When she did, he grinned down at her.

Another door closing and a conversation up above caught their attention. When Dr. Deming and Miss Wells descended, the four greeted one another. “Are you walking over?” Trygve asked.

“Of course.” Dr. Deming smiled down at his partner. “That's all right with you, isn't it?”

Vera nodded. “We could all walk together.”

Once they were outside, Dr. Deming commented, “I didn't want to miss this, but if you think all these bandages will make others uncomfortable . . .”

“No. You will not stay home. It isn't like anyone can ignore what happened. There are other bandaged people in town too.” Vera shook her head. “Call the dressings your badges of honor.”

“Trygve?” The voice down the block sounded like Daniel's. Trygve stopped and turned.

Daniel didn't come over to them at a jog, but he walked fast. He was covered in soot and grime, and he smelled like a fire. “The ashes are cool enough now that we've been poking around in the rubble where the elevator used to be. Good evening, Miss Wells, Miss Hastings.”

Trygve realized what Daniel was saying. “Find anything?”

Daniel nodded.

Vera frowned. Suddenly her mouth dropped open and she clapped her hands over it. “You were looking for the hired man at the elevator! And you found him.”

Miriam wagged her head sadly. “Is there enough that we can give him a proper Christian burial?”

Trygve almost had to smile. Leave it to Miriam—clever, sensible Miriam—to go directly to the important things.

“I think so. He was where we suspected—well, the little we found of him—on the ground beneath the debris. Enough to bury. And we could include that meerschaum pipe, what's left of it. The blast shattered it.” Daniel looked at Trygve. “Thorliff and I have to get cleaned up, obviously, and then we'll be there. Will you tell the quilting ladies, please, that Thorliff and I will help Thelma bring over the rest of the party food?”

“I shall.”

Vera still looked upset. Dr. Deming laid his arm across her shoulders and guided her gently off toward the party.

Trygve fell in beside Miriam as she began strolling in the general direction. “I'm glad they found his body. It'll be good to give him a proper burial.”

She nodded. “Most of the people in this town are decent. They value the right things. I find that quite comforting.”

“I keep hoping you will realize that Blessing has so many advantages, it would pay you and your family to live here. There is plenty of work and plenty of friendliness.”

“And you keep forgetting that I signed a contract. I must go back to the hospital.” She stopped and turned to face him. “Trygve, I care for you. I do! I really do. But a contract is a promise, and when I make a promise, I will keep it. Do you understand?”

“Completely. But that doesn't mean you cannot come back after your contract is completed.” They resumed walking. And down inside, he was singing. Of course she would honor a contract. A woman of immense integrity does that. It was just one more reason why he loved her. And she'd admitted she cared for him! Praise God!

They were arriving about on time, but the room was already crowded. Almost all the chairs were filled by the ladies, which was proper, and the men stood about in clusters. Trygve delivered Daniel's message to two quilting ladies by the food table, and they thanked him. He did not reveal that Mr. Nordstrund had
been found. Well, parts of Mr. Nordstrund. That was Daniel and Thorliff's news to announce.

Then Reverend Solberg called the program to order and opened with prayer. The men gathered mostly at the back. Miriam settled into a chair on the edge, and Trygve moved close to stand beside her.

Trygve didn't hear exactly what John had prayed, for his mind was still firmly riveted to the sweet young nurse. She'd said she cared for him! She'd insisted, in fact! What a glorious thing! There was hope.

The two doctors entered and were immediately given chairs at the front. Good! Her swollen belly aside, Elizabeth looked more or less like her usual self, with a pink complexion and a ready smile.

But Astrid's appearance slammed him. She looked ten years older than she was. Haggard. Drawn. A sort of twitchy nervousness, but not exactly. Were he to have to describe her, he would not have the exact words. But she was obviously hurting. And tired. Yes, that was it—very tired. It showed in her eyes. In the way her shoulders drooped. Did Daniel realize how tired she was? When you live with a person day after day, you don't always notice the changes as they happen.

Why shouldn't she be tired? She lost her father only two months ago, and did not have any time at all to grieve. None of them did. It was early harvest, and every hand was needed in the fields. With Elizabeth sidelined, Astrid was carrying the full burden of the hospital and the nurses' training. And now the fire. It had consumed far more than just wood and grain.

But look at her, soldiering on. The Bjorklunds were like that, though. No matter how shattering the blows, they kept going, kept doing, kept serving. But then, just about all Norwegians were good at maintaining life in the face of crushing loss. Trygve was proud of his Norwegian heritage and its stalwart women.

Several children stood up front now to recite the thanksgivings
they had offered in school. Trygve clapped when everyone else clapped.

Miriam was like Norwegian women in so many ways. Industrious. Energetic. Efficient. Capable. She had just lost her dear mother, yet here she was, back in harness. She was separated from her beloved family by seven hundred miles, yet she continued on. And she'd admitted she cared about him! Insisted she did!

More children came forward, spoke—most of them in singsong, obviously having memorized their essays—and sat down to applause.

What a contrast: Astrid so harried, and Miriam sitting here beside him looking so youthful and fresh. In fact, she seemed more hale, with better color, than she did back when she had first arrived. It seemed long ago. He had loved her even then, the first time he saw her. And she'd said she cared for him!

Some of the immigrant workmen stood up. They had lost their tent homes, yet how grateful they were for life and for their neighbors. Trygve had a great deal of difficulty understanding the heavy accents, especially the Russian, even though he was around them every day.

Maybe he should travel to Chicago and sit down with this Mrs. Korsheski, or whoever she was. If he could adjust Miriam's contract or perhaps even cut a new one, she might be more inclined to move to Blessing.

Several others, including some of the women, stood up to say the same thing everyone else was saying. Gratitude in the face of loss. Apparently women were allowed to speak at this gathering.

As far as Trygve was concerned, they ought to have a voice all the time, including at business meetings and meetings of bank members. After all, they were the ones who
really
controlled the money in this town, and that included his dear tante Ingeborg.

Sophie stood up and thanked the many families who had
taken in the now homeless people from Tent Town and given them a roof over their heads as winter came at them with freight-train speed.

Trygve nodded to himself. That was definitely the thing to do. Take the train to Chicago, talk to this Mrs. Korsheski. She obviously valued the whole family, not just Miriam, and would almost certainly agree to whatever would be best for them. Maybe while Trygve was there, he could recruit more workmen for Blessing. Put an ad in the papers or something. He had heard of the
Chicago Tribune.
There must be other newspapers in a city that large. Blessing could certainly use all the labor they could get, especially with the massive setbacks the fire had created and winter so close.

But where would they live?

Should he mention this idea to Miriam, or just go?

What's this? Garn Huslig, owner of the grain elevator, was coming forward. Like Astrid, he had aged a decade in the last week. And more than just about anyone else here, he had just lost everything. He'd lost his elevator and all the grain in it—a whole year's profit, for a lot of the grain had not shipped yet. But he was not knocked flat by this horrific loss either. He still stood straight.

“My friends. I have no words. Like the others here, even our precious children, I am grateful to God for the brave men who fought the fires and the men and women who stepped up immediately to help their neighbors. As terrible as this tragedy is, you all kept it from being far worse than it could have been. We could have lost the whole town, every building. We could have had many deaths. But we didn't, because of our dedicated men. Thanks be to God.

“And what do I see when I look around? Strong men and women. Strong children. People who will rebuild our town. Dear friends, we will rise from the ashes and restore Blessing. God willing, it will be the best town in the Dakotas. I give thanks
most of all for you, our friends and neighbors, because we stand by each other, and you will bring us back again!”

Sophie's husband, Garth, leaped to his feet. “Amen to that, Garn! We'll come out of this bigger and better than ever!” He started clapping. Half a dozen more men, agreeing with him, applauded enthusiastically. Trygve watched Miriam. She was caught up in the general mood, nodding and clapping. Yep, she would fit right in to Blessing. She'd said she cared about him!

Now Dr. Deming came around to the front, bandaged face and all, to thank God and to praise the personnel at the hospital and the medical treatment he'd received. “Our medical care,” he boasted, “is the best!” More enthusiastic applause.

Uh-oh. Anner Valders was standing up. And Trygve noticed that instantly Miriam, who had been so loose and cheerful a moment ago, even slightly embarrassed that the hospital was garnering such praise, suddenly turned stiff. Frowning. Her hands clenched into fists.

“As far as I'm concerned, Deming, your praise is misplaced.” Anner looked angry. But lately, he always seemed to look angry. “Whatever that was they gave me for my burns, the sores are still open. They're not healing. I wouldn't call that good service.”

Miriam gasped. “Second degree burns, and if they don't heal in a few days, it's our fault?” Her neck had turned red.

“Mine aren't healing yet either, Anner.” That was Garn, now standing toward the back. “But that's the way with burns. They take a long time.” He pulled his sleeve up enough to show the bandage on his own arm.

Anner didn't seem to hear. “When a man puts his life on the line for the community, he deserves good medical care! And I notice when you were doling out thanks, Huslig, you failed to mention me. If I hadn't rushed into that burning bank to close the door to the safe, this town would have no money! Do you understand? Every dollar gone. Burned up! And all the books.”

Apparently now even Dr. Deming was irritated. “Right! And
if you hadn't been so careless as to leave the safe standing open when you went home, you wouldn't have had to come hustling back to close it.”

“I am getting sick and tired of being disregarded by this community!” Anner's voice was almost shrill, he was so furious. “I do my best, and all I get is criticism. Besides, Dr. Deming”—he put a nasty slur on the title—“my Hildegunn went to the hospital today for headache powder. She has been suffering for days with a headache, and the doctor would not see her! Would
not
! Flat out said she didn't have time for her. You call that good medical service? She said she didn't have time to see a suffering woman.”

Astrid leaped to her feet. “You blathering, mean-spirited—” She caught herself. “Do you know why I did not have time? I was treating a family who is starving, literally starving, and their poor baby is near death. Because of you! You loaned the husband a modest sum of money, and now you are sucking out half of his paycheck every payday! Half! That family has no money for food, you leech!”

Reverend Solberg strode forward from his place at the back of the room. “Enough!”

Anner stood before her nose to nose. “You will
not
malign my sound business practices, you who are ignorant of finance!”

Trygve expected Miriam to gasp or something. Instead she jumped up and stomped over to the furious pair. She pushed between them, facing Anner. “Don't you dare address the doctor in that manner!” She had her hands up, her fists solidly clenched.