Read Streams of Mercy Online

Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #FIC027050, #Triangles (Interpersonal relations)—Fiction, #Mate selection—Fiction, #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #Widows—Fiction, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction

Streams of Mercy (40 page)

BOOK: Streams of Mercy
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C
HAPTER 30

W
hat has gotten into you? Thorliff Bjorklund, you do not seem to be even trying!

“How is it going, Anji?” Ingeborg asked, stopping beside her in room one. Together they studied the man, breathing hard from the exercises, but unwilling to even look at them. The never-ending cough struck him again. But when he tried to raise his right arm, it would go no higher than a couple of inches off the bed. His groan shredded Anji’s heart. At least his eyes looked a little more alive, even if it was now anger that sparked them. She followed Ingeborg out of the room.

“This is the second round today. It’s been a week now. Shouldn’t we see some improvement?”

“There is slight improvement, more with his leg than his arm. I’m beginning to wonder if this has affected his brain too. It would make sense, since the brain controls the motor functions. As soon as he can walk with a cane, I think we can move him home. That might help his mind too.”

Anji flinched when they heard him coughing again. “He can sit on the edge of the bed, so at least he has full use of his left side.” Her heart ached to see this man, usually so vital and pleasant, now barely civil.

“That cough is typical for a long time after diphtheria, so I read in one of Astrid’s medical books. All we can do there is give him cough syrup with plenty of honey to soothe his throat. And keep up with the massage and movements. They will help strengthen him.”

“I will be back tomorrow then, if you are sure I am helping.”

“You are.” Ingeborg walked out the door of the hospital with her. “How I love summer. The strawberries are slowing down, but the raspberries will be ready soon.”

Anji stopped at the post office to see about the mail. A letter in her box. She pulled it out, fully expecting her mother-in-law’s flowing penmanship. Instead, the handwriting was very masculine. Thomas wrote to her! She was beginning to think he’d forgotten. Without waiting to get home, she worked her fingernail under the edge and pulled out his letter.

Dear Anji,
As you no doubt have realized, I arrived here safely and have been made to feel very welcome. The town is smaller than Blessing, a hamlet, really, and my parish duties will include a second church, seven miles away. The people are mostly fishermen or farmers, mostly dairy and some orchards, and friendly. They have been without a priest for nearly a year and are very appreciative that I came to meet them.
It has been so long since I preached a homily, that is, a sermon, I wasn’t sure I would remember how. I have met most of the families in the larger church, and the rectory, as they call the house where their priest has lived, is right next door. It is a good-sized house that is in need of some work. The former priest had been ailing for some time.
This next Sunday I will preach at both churches, first here in the morning and the other one in the afternoon.
I was so grateful to hear from John that Johnny lives. I know I asked you to write, but I will be home before it could get here. I will not make my final decision regarding this call until you and I can talk again.
Sincerely,
Thomas Devlin

Anji stared at the sheet in her hand. Rather a businesslike letter. She had no idea if he was excited about going there or would rather be in Blessing—with her. Tomorrow was Sunday, so he should be back by Wednesday or Thursday. That meant she would have to make up her mind what she wanted to do.

What she wanted to do was stay right here in Blessing, and after a time of courting, after all, that is what he asked her agreement for, marry Thomas Devlin and live happily ever after in this house she now called home. She wanted her children to call him Pa, and maybe they would even have a baby of their own. Turning into the gate, she shut it behind her and grinned when she heard her youngest’s voice.

“Ma! You finally came home!” Annika charged to greet her, hugged her hard, then grinned up at her. “Did you bring ice cream?”

“Sorry, not today. Were you good for Mercy?”

“Ma, I am always good.” She swung her mother’s hand as they mounted the steps. “We baked cookies to go with ice cream.”

“Where is everyone?”

“Joseph is with Benny, Lissa is upstairs reading, and I don’t know where Gilbert is. I could have his ice cream.”

“You don’t give up, do you. Sure smells good in here.” She removed her straw hat and hooked it on the coat tree.

At the supper table that evening, she looked to the other end and in her mind could see Thomas sitting there, like he had the one time. How easy it was to see him everywhere.

But Thorliff needs you
. It wasn’t the first time that thought had come to rest in her mind.
You can’t leave Blessing. He needs you desperately, even though
he does not realize his need. But I’ve just realized
how much I love Thomas. Oh, how I hope he
will remain in Blessing. I don’t want to pick
my children up and move again. Lord, how am I
going to know what you want me to do?

“Ma, are you all right?” Melissa asked, staring at her intently.

Anji jerked her mind back to the moment. “Sorry. Now, where were we?”

“I said grace.” Gilbert wrinkled his forehead, always her worrier.

“And we passed you the food.” Annika pointed to the bowls beside her.

“And I want to eat too,” Joseph added from her right side.

Anji shook her head. “Just a lot on my mind.” She dished up the chicken and rice and passed it on to her son. “Now, did you get those rows weeded in the garden?”

They all nodded. “We planted the rest of the beans. We sure are going to have a lot of beans.” Gilbert dug into the food piled high on his plate.

“We’ll can and then dry some too. The way you are all growing, we’ll use a lot of beans. How about tomorrow, when I get
back from the hospital, we pick up Inga and go see Grandma Ingeborg.”

“Can Benny come too?”

“Why not?”

On Monday, when she was massaging Thorliff’s arm and hand, she straightened his fingers one at a time. “All right, now push back. Harder. Come on, push.”

“I am pushing!”

“I know. Now flex. Good again. Push.” She glanced from his fingers to his face and returned a smile for his glare. “Your mor assured me she can see improvement. So we will keep working. You know you could use your left hand to do the same things I am doing with your fingers. Will you do that?”

“I already am.”

“Good.” She stepped back. “Now sit up straight and swing your legs over the edge of the bed.” She watched him struggle with the right arm not responding and a horribly weakened body, but he sat up, using his left leg to push the other over the edge. How much easier it would be to assist him.

“It would help to have a bar to pull up on.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Put a hook up there, ropes down, knotted to a bar. Tell Trygve I want to see him.”

Out on the back porch at Ingeborg’s, after the children all headed for the barn and the calves, Anji told her what had happened.

Ingeborg nodded, her smile widening. “Of course, perfect. And did you tell Trygve?”

“I did. I imagine it will be in place by tomorrow.” Anji leaned back against the cushions of the wicker chair. “I have a problem and I need your advice.”

“I hope I have some.”

“Thomas wrote about the church in Michigan. He said he would not tell them his decision until he and I talked. I know he is going to ask me to marry him and move to that place.”

“Do you love him?”

“I do, but . . .”

“But?”

“I want him to stay here. He can teach school and build things, and there is always lots of work here in the summer. My home and family are here. I don’t want to uproot my children again.”

Ingeborg studied her. “His calling is to be a parish priest. What is yours?”

“I . . .” She paused. “I think Thorliff will need help both to get well and to handle the paper. I can do those things for him. You know how I loved him and he loved me. Who better to help him now?”

A herd of noisy children swarmed up. “Ma, come see the calves and the baby kittens and the lambs and . . .” Joseph’s words tumbled over each other. “And there are baby pigs too, and the mama is really grouchy.” Annika came running up beside him.

“You didn’t try to catch her babies, did you?”

Annika shook her head, setting her pigtails to bouncing. “No, Inga said no. Emmy did too. Benny laughed when I fell in the mud puddle.” She lifted her pinafore skirt. “Stinky, like the pigs.”

“How did you happen to fall in a puddle?”

Joseph said breathlessly, “The mama pig jumped at us and banged into the fence!”

Annika completed it. “And I runned.”

“I see. You all sit on the steps. Freda has lemonade and cookies.” Ingeborg started to rise, but Anji laid a hand on her arm. “I’ll help.”

The noisy, happy gang had their treat, then swarmed off again.

Ingeborg watched them. “They do enjoy this area. Are there farms in that part of Michigan?”

“Thomas mentioned that it was rural. I assume so. But not like here. There are none like here.”

The silence between them started to grow heavy. Not unpleasant. Just heavy.
Calling
kept going through Anji’s head. Thomas’s calling, and hers.

Ingeborg stared off into the distance. “That Thomas is a wonder worker with children. Manny told me he had intended to run away and join the circus, but Mr. Devlin changed his mind.”

“I knew Manny loved working with the animals. He was going to do that?”

Ingeborg nodded. “And he explained to me why he didn’t. Mr. Devlin showed him that if you have two choices that can’t be compromised, you go with the one that is best for you personally. Manny decided it would be best for him to finish school, and he didn’t want Joker to get scrawny like the circus horses were. That’s a brief summary. Manny’s explanation took ten minutes.” She turned and looked at her. “Two men, Thorliff and Thomas, are tugging at your heart. Which choice would work out best for Anji Baard?”

When Thomas Devlin stepped off the train on Thursday morning, his gaze found hers as if by a magnet. She felt that smile clear to her toes. He greeted Reverend Solberg and the
others but strode directly to Anji. Fedora pushed back on his head, he stopped in front of her, a sparkle dancing in his eyes when she held out her hand.

“Welcome home,” she said properly. He did not let go of her hand but tucked it into the crook of his arm. “I be in bad need of one of Rebecca’s sodas. Will ye join me for one?”

As they drank their sodas and caught each other up on the news, a drum beat behind her eyes.
Remain in Blessing. Remain in Blessing.

“So you really liked it there?” She fiddled with the straw in her empty soda glass.

“I do. The people are good there. I like the hills and ah, the trees. Magnificent trees. But most of all, I do believe God is calling me there.” He covered her hand that lay on the table with his. “I want ye there with me, Anji.”

BOOK: Streams of Mercy
3.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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