A Land to Call Home (20 page)

“Oh.”

Ingeborg looked up at Haakan who had come to stand by her shoulder. “Please ask Metiz to send some of her medicinals along so Solveig can ride in the wagon easier. And lots of quilts and elk robes for padding.”

Haakan nodded. “I will.” He looked down at Solveig. “Would you like to come around the wheelhouse so you can see where our land is? Not much but riverbank to see, but . . .”

Solveig shook her head, leaned back, and closed her eyes again. A white line circled her lips, and her jaw remained bone hard, nearly visible through the pale skin. Cords stood out in her neck.

The pain must be terrible
, Ingeborg thought.
How can I help her? Oh, Lord, how can I help?
“I’ll be right back.” She followed Haakan around to the starboard side and looked downriver to their landing where the raft was tied to a cottonwood tree. While she watched, Thorliff and Baptiste burst out of the trees, each waving with one hand as they untied the bobbing raft with the other. Baptiste shoved the raft away, and Thorliff dug in with the long pole to maneuver the cumbersome thing out to the paddle boat.

The captain tooted the whistle again, gently this time.

“I will meet you in St. Andrew then. Since you’ll get there before I do, take Solveig to the hotel. Those chairs in the parlor will be more comfortable than the benches on the dock.”

“Ja, I will.” Ingeborg leaned over the railing to wave at Thorliff. “You did a fine job.”

The raft bumped against the boat. One of the crew threw the end of the rope ladder over the side and opened the railing for Haakan to climb down.

“I will see you soon.” His eyes matched the sky arched above them with twinkles like fireflies in the dusk.

“Mor, wait till you get home!” Thorliff fairly danced on the bobbing raft.

“Are the twins all right?”

“Ja, and Tante Kaaren too. Penny made Andrew take a nap. He weren’t none too happy ‘bout that. He’s missing . . .” Thorliff clapped a hand over his mouth.

Haakan landed on the raft, ruffled Thorliff’s hair, and took over the poling. They both waved when the whistle tooted again and the paddle-wheel resumed its slush-and-slap song.

Ingeborg waved back, wondering at the boy’s obvious excitement. What was going on at the Bjorklund farms now?

I
ngeborg collapsed in a velvet chair in the St. Andrew Hotel next to Solveig.

“I am sorry to be such trouble,” Solveig said with her eyes closed.

“It can’t be helped, and it is not your fault. God will work all this out, you’ll . . .”

“God?” The derision contained in that one word stopped Ingeborg midblink.

In Solveig’s spiteful tone, Ingeborg could hear herself that long winter of her soul. Knowing how she’d railed against those who tried to remind her that God did indeed love and care for her, she clamped her lips shut. Prayer now would be more helpful than argument.

Taking her own inward advice, she sent her thoughts and pleas heavenward. The only sound in the silent parlor was the ticktock of the ornately carved grandfather clock standing against the redand-gilt striped wallpaper. By the time the clock bonged the next hour, she had prayed for everyone she could think of, including Hjelmer, wherever the boy was. Because of his actions, she had a hard time thinking of him as a man, size or no size. She opened her eyes and yawned, feeling as though she could sleep for hours. Glancing at Solveig, she saw the younger woman was sound asleep, her breath coming in little snorts, her chin resting on her chest.

Ingeborg rose to her feet as quietly as possible and tiptoed out the door. if she didn’t get some fresh air, she’d be sleeping too. The aroma of coffee floating from the dining room made her stomach rumble in a most unladylike way. When Solveig woke, they would have to get something to eat.

After pacing the front porch a few times and waving at Mrs.
MacKenzie over at the Mercantile, she returned to her seat and picked up her knitting. While the sock she worked on was too large for Solveig’s foot, once she finished this one, she could start a smaller pair. She was just tucking in the final yarn at the toe when she heard a wagon whoa’d outside. The voice could only be Lars’.

“Solveig, they are here.” She repeated the words, but the sleeping woman, who now looked more like the girl Ingeborg remembered, failed to stir.

“Oh.” A smile flitted across the scarred face before Solveig had time to remember what had happened. The memory obviously surfaced as her face fell into the familiar blank slate. She pushed herself erect and with both hands lifted her injured leg down from the needlepoint-covered footstool Ingeborg had placed under it. “Can we find the necessary before we leave?”

A short time later, with Lars promising them there was food in a basket in the wagon, they headed west along the Little Salt River. The temperature dropped along with the sun. Ingeborg made sure Solveig had a sandwich of sliced elk roast and cheese, along with the now cold coffee, and fell to her own repast. How long had it been since they’d eaten breakfast, anyway?

“So, what is the surprise?” She spoke around a mouthful of bread and meat.

Lars shook his head with a chuckle. “I ain’t tellin’. You think I want them young’uns to skin me alive?”

Ingeborg made a tisking sound. “Afraid of those two young pups?”

“Forget it, Inge. I ain’t telling.”

“Can you tell me how the babies are, or is that a secret too?” She checked behind her to see how Solveig was doing. The half-eaten sandwich now lay on the blankets over her chest. But if her eyes were open or closed, Ingeborg couldn’t see.

“Getting stronger every day. Kaaren too. Penny and Metiz keep both places going. That Andrew, he’s a live one, he is.”

“Now what did he do?”

“I ain’t telling that either.”

“Lars. What is going on?”

He shrugged and clucked the horses to pick up the pace. He wore that secret grin that meant he was enjoying this mightily.

“Did Haakan get a chance to tell you about the machinery men?”

“No, what?”

Now that she had his attention, and hoping to get him so interested
she could slip in a question about the farms, she told him all they’d learned.

“So did he buy the steam engine?”

“No, not without you seeing it and saying it is right for what we want.”

Lars shook his head. “Shoulda gone ahead. Time is running out.”

Barely had the sky darkened when the eastern horizon grew light as morn. The rising harvest moon silvered the prairie and threw sharp shadows, lighting the road home. Ingeborg shivered in the deepening cold and drew one of the elk hides from the back and pulled it up and over her shoulders. Her teeth clattered from the jolting wagon, but she never suggested they slow down. If she dared, she’d have set the team at a gallop. What was going on?

As the Bjorklund farm came into view, Ingeborg could not believe her eyes. Tall rafters rose from the dark prairie like bleached bones in the moonlight. Ingeborg sucked in her breath and let it out on a sigh. “Oh,” she whispered, “the barn. How beautiful!” She turned in her seat to see Lars staring straight ahead.

“I promised I wouldn’t say anything.”

“I know. Who did it?”

“All the neighbors. The last two days there been a crew here working hard as ants getting ready for winter. I never seen anything go up so fast in my life. Onkel Olaf, he . . .”

“Onkel Olaf?”

“Day after you left, Olaf Wold, Kaaren’s mor’s brother, turned up here. He emigrated years ago and kind of lost touch with home. They all thought he was dead. Been working like a fool ever since he arrived. I think he don’t sleep, that’s what I think.”

“They all gave up their own work to give us a hand. I mean, I know you and Haakan planned a barn raising, but this is . . . is . . .”

“Kaaren said the barn is just another sign of God’s love and care.”

Ingeborg heard a snort from behind them.

“Ja, well He sure helps us stick together here on the prairie, don’t you say?”

“Ja, some debts you just never can repay.”

The barn grew larger as they drew closer. Paws ran out to meet them, his barks turning to yips as soon as he recognized who it was.

“Let’s stop at your house so I can see the babies first.”

“If’n you want. Olaf is bedded down in your barn, now that you and Haakan are home. Kaaren says Solveig will share the bed at our house with Penny.” He drew back a bit on the reins as the horses,
nearing home, picked up the pace. “We sure do need some additions on these two soddies.”

“And before the ground freezes.”

Lars halted the wagon, and Ingeborg clambered to the ground before he could come around to help her. She could feel the frosted grass crunching under the soles of her shoes. “I will return in a minute to help you out, Solveig. I just have to see how the twins are.”

Ingeborg pulled open the screen door and, giving a quick rap, opened the heavy wooden inner door. The warmth from the inside made her face tingle. “We are home.” She unwound her scarf from her neck and head even as she spoke, crossing the room at the same time. She greeted the three women.

“I been telling the young’uns their tante Ingeborg will be back soon, so don’t go to sleep right yet.” Kaaren held a well-swaddled baby in the crook of each arm. She lifted Sophie for Ingeborg.

“Are they both doing all right?” She smiled into the baby’s eyes as she spoke. “I think she’s grown twice her size.”

“Grace here still doesn’t eat as much, but she is getting better.”

Ingeborg leaned over to check on the sleeping twin. “She’s growing though, I can tell. Oh, Kaaren, I am so thankful. Sometimes I thought—well, no need to go into that.” She handed the bundled baby back to her mother. “Penny, Solveig is worn to the bone. Let’s get her to bed right away.”

“She drink first.” Metiz nodded to the pan she had simmering on the stove. “Me see leg.”

“I hope so, Metiz. I’m afraid she has some funny ideas.”

One side of the old woman’s mouth twitched in a smile. “We fix.”

Within a few minutes Ingeborg left Solveig in her loving sister’s hands and let Lars drive her and the baggage across to the other soddy where a lamp shone in the window. After whispering her thanks to Lars, Ingeborg opened the door with barely a creak and set her packages on the floor by her rocking chair. She first checked on Andrew, who slept with a curly lock of hair over one eye and had the look of a cherub. She resisted the urge to lean down and kiss his rosy cheek, instead turning to find Haakan’s smiling gaze waiting for her.

She gestured to the barn and shook her head.

“I know,” he whispered. “When I saw that, I . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Such a gift.”

“Where are the boys?”

“Out in the barn with Olaf. Since he’s been giving them carving
lessons, they took over the job as his shadows. Poor man, guess he doesn’t mind. He’s got them helping him make new buckets, alongside splitting shingles. Those two are busier than bees on a honeysuckle.”

“Any news of Hjelmer?” She moved the lamp to the table and cupped her hand around the chimney so she could blow out the flame.

“That’ll be the day. I think that young man is long gone.”

“Haakan, how can you say that?” She undressed, hanging her clothes on the pegs in the wall and pulling her flannel nightgown over her head. Then like any good wife, she slid under the covers and planted her ice-cold feet on his warm legs.

“Uff da.” He jerked away before taking her feet in his hands and rubbing some warmth back in them. Some time passed before Ingeborg cuddled even closer to his warmth and laid her head on his shoulder. What a perfect ending to such an exciting, albeit at times frustrating, day.

“Drink this.” Metiz held out a steaming cup to Solveig.

“Do I have to?” She turned her head away, sending a pleading glance to her older sister.

Kaaren nodded. “She’s not trying to poison you, you know. All of us at one time or another have submitted to Metiz’ potions and always been the better for it.” She sighed. This wasn’t the way she had pictured Solveig coming at all. There’d already been an argument over letting Metiz examine the injured leg. What in the world had her sister heard about Indians that made her act like a frightened sheep?