Tomorrow she and Leif would drive to Blackduck. Onkel Einar had assured her she would not get lost. Knute was not happy about staying home to assist Tante Gerd in and out of bed, but Leif was too small to be much help.
Since the loggers had come in early to sharpen the axes and split wood, supper was not ready when they drove in. When she stepped outside, Signe could hear the whine of the axe head on the grindstone. After fanning herself with her apron, she brought out buttermilk for everyone to drink. “To tide you over until supper.”
“Takk.” Rune lifted his glass in a salute to his wife.
“You’re welcome,” Signe returned. What a pleasure it was to hear some gratitude. Today she had finished up the wash, so they all had clean clothes too. And she could look around the kitchen and not be overwhelmed by the dirt.
When she had supper on the table, she called the others inside. Fresh bread and fresh golden butter. That was enough for a meal by itself.
“What do you need from the store?” she asked Einar when he slowed down shoveling food into his mouth.
“I wrote a list.” He dug a paper out of his shirt pocket. “Oats for animal feed and a bag for seed. That field should have already been seeded.” He looked at Rune. “You ever seeded a field?”
“Ja, but by hand, not with a machine like the one you have.”
Einar rolled his eyes and huffed. “Never enough daylight to get it all done.” He reached for another slice of bread and slathered butter on it. He chewed for a moment, then said, seemingly reluctantly, “They carry seed at Benson’s Corner. You better go there instead. Not so far.”
Signe looked at him in surprise. He had been so adamant about her going to Blackduck. She glanced at Rune, who shook his head slightly.
“How far is it to Benson Corner?” she asked.
“About three miles. You could walk if we didn’t need such heavy supplies.”
“Can I mail letters from there?”
“Ja, they have a mailbag. Comes in on the logging train. Tell her who you are. They know you were coming.”
This was far better. She wouldn’t be gone from Gerd so long, and she would be able to get more done here.
When Einar finished his bread, he stood. “Saw blades to sharpen.” He paused. “Rune, you ever sharpened saw blades?”
“Nei.”
“Time for you to learn. Leave the woodcutting to the boys and come with me.”
Rune glanced down at his plate. “I’ll be there as soon as I finish.”
At the frown on Einar’s face, he shoveled in the last few bites and got to his feet.
“You boys finish your supper,” he said softly, earning another frown from the impatient man.
Signe kept from shaking her head but looked toward the bedroom when Gerd screamed her name. How could she scream like that when she was so out of breath most of the time? Signe had barely started on her supper.
“I’ll be right there.” She pushed her chair back but motioned for the boys to finish their meal. Just because Onkel ate first and so fast, all the others were supposed to jump up when he did. Another small stick of frustration adding to the load she was collecting. She made herself breathe before she entered the bedroom and stopped beside the bed. “Pot first or supper?”
“Pot.”
Once Gerd was finished, Signe motioned to the chair. “I’m going to bring that over here by the bed again, and you will sit there to eat.” That afternoon she’d decided she would no longer ask. Gritting her teeth and carrying on was not working. True, she’d not been here very long, but she already felt that Norway was another life and that she’d been here forever.
She brought the chair to the side of the bed. “Here we go.”
“No!” Gerd tried to pull away, but the effort started her puffing again, and when she relaxed, Signe took both her hands and pulled her to her feet.
“Good, good. Just two steps. I’ll help you turn.”
“I’m falling!”
“No, I won’t let you fall.” Gerd shouting right in Signe’s ear made her head ring. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”
Gerd didn’t, but Signe put her hands on Gerd’s waist and supported her with all her strength. She turned and swung Gerd toward the chair all in one motion. Ignoring the malevolent glare, she settled a shawl around Gerd’s shoulders and straightened her legs and feet.
She paused to inhale a deep breath. “I’m going to get your supper.”
How to keep the tray from sliding down onto the floor? She had a feeling Gerd would just let it fall and blame her.
While Bjorn and Knute had gone outside, Leif was clearing the table. He’d left her unfinished supper on the table.
“Did you get enough to eat?” she asked him.
“Can I have another piece of bread and butter?”
“With sugar on it?”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Unless you’d rather have jam.” While she talked, she dished up a plateful of food and buttered another piece of bread for Tante Gerd. She set the supper things on the tray. If only she could get Gerd strong enough to come to the table. How to hold up the tray? The ironing board. That could lie across the arms of the chair. Fetching the board from where it hung on the pantry wall, she carried it into the bedroom.
Gerd glared at her. “Now what are you doing?”
“Fixing you a table.”
“I’m tired. I need to go back to bed.”
Signe laid the board across the arms of the chair and brought the tray from the kitchen. “Here you go. Enjoy your supper.” It was a good thing dirty looks did not cut, because Signe would be a mass of bleeding if they did. “I’ll bring you more coffee later, if you like.” She left the room before she had to listen to another diatribe.
Leif set the dishes in the pan of soapy water steaming on the stove. “Mor, we are out of soap.”
“I know. We’ll get some tomorrow at the store.” She sank down on her chair as a wave of weariness nearly swamped her. “Where’s my plate?”
“I put it in the warming oven.” Leif picked up the plate with a dish towel and brought it to her.
“Takk.” She nodded at her youngest son and forced herself to smile. “That was very kind and thoughtful of you.” There were two slices of bread on the plate. She took one and offered him the other.
“I already had another piece.”
“Well, if you are too full . . .”
He grinned at her as he grabbed the bread and a knife to butter it with. “Sugar too?”
“Ja, sugar too.”
She ate her supper in the quiet of the kitchen and was sipping her coffee when the order came from the bedroom. Sucking in a deep breath, she went to fetch the tray and put Gerd to bed. She’d planned to give her a bath tonight but decided one change was enough. The bath could wait. It had probably been months since she’d had a bath or even washed. One more day couldn’t make it any worse.
That night after the others had all gone to bed, Signe poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down at the table to finish a letter to her mor. They had been gone only two weeks or so, even though it felt like forever. She picked up where she had left off, having started the letter on the train in between trying to watch the scenery.
We are doing well here. Tante Gerd is bedridden and has been for some time. Onkel Einar was trying to do it all, so this house was filthy. We have scrubbed the kitchen and the pantry and took two days to do the wash. Now we all have clean clothes again. Gerd has a washing machine with a crank handle, which is far better than using a scrub board. She also has a sewing machine, which I will learn to use this winter.
Lifting the coffee to her lips with both hands, she let her eyes drift closed and took a sip. How often did she drink cold coffee? Just get up and pour a refill. The order failed to force her muscles to obey. Instead she returned to her writing.
The boys have weeded the garden and are taking care of feeding the animals and milking the cow. Einar and Rune go out to cut
down trees so tall they block the sun. Then Bjorn cuts all the limbs off, which is called limbing, with an axe or a saw, depending on the size. Some limbs are the size of a small tree. Rune taught Bjorn to sharpen the axes and Knute to set snares for rabbits. So far he has brought in four. They stretched the hides on the barn wall. There are plenty of rabbits here, enough to mow a garden to the dirt.
We are still sleeping on pallets on the parlor floor because I have not had time to clean the upstairs. Rune promised to make us a rope bed, but I am sure that won’t happen until winter. But then, logging goes on the whole year here. The logs slide more easily over the snow. Einar talks of pulling stumps to clear another field, but I have no idea when. He has big ideas, but he needs more help to do it all. I don’t know how he has managed to clear as much as he has.
I’m doing well. I tire more easily than I ever have, but that is to be expected. They say fall comes early here, so the weather will cool down. I will can beans and whatever else I can find, or rather what we can keep the rabbits from eating. Tante had canned beans, peas, pickles, beets. There are still a few jars left. We will need many jars to keep us all through the winter. Onkel Einar says he has a smokehouse for when they butcher pigs in the fall. Or a deer. There are moose here too, and plenty of ducks and geese on the lakes. Rune would like to hunt, but I fear for his eyes. I believe Bjorn will become a good hunter, though, as soon as he gets more practice shooting a rifle.
When you see her, tell Nilda to start saving money for a ticket. There are an abundance of men looking for wives around here.
I must go to bed. We miss you all and pray you are well. Thank you for sharing this with Rune’s family also.
Your daughter, Signe
She heaved a sigh. Surely she has forgiven me by now for following my husband to Amerika. Rereading what she had written brought on the bitter sting of tears that caused her throat to clog. One tear opened a deluge, no matter how she fought to keep quiet and not wake anyone. Fisted hands propped her forehead off the table until she dug for her apron to stem the flow. How can I bear this? I am so tired. The thoughts only fed more tears. Will this never stop?
When the tears finally faded, she pushed herself to her feet and refilled her coffee cup. Hot coffee might help more than cold, at least.
Signe knew that the closer to the baby’s arrival she came, the less she would be able to lift and support Gerd. What to do? What was the best way to help Tante? Or was helping her get stronger even a possibility? When no answers were forthcoming, she folded the pages of the letter and tucked them into an envelope. After addressing it, she blew out the kerosene lamp and made her way to her pallet.
“Are you all right?” Rune mumbled when she lay down with a sigh.
“Ja.” At least her voice sounded like usual. “Tomorrow I can mail a letter home. Did you write one for your family?”
He snorted. “When?”
“I reminded Mor to share the letter with your family and everyone else who wants to know how we are.”
“Ja, good thing.”
In the morning, after feeding everyone and getting the men out the door with food for dinner, she showed Knute the plates she had fixed for him and Tante Gerd, ignored the sullen looks he sent her, and made sure her list was complete.
“Harness the other horse to the small wagon. Good thing we can do without the draft team.”
Onkel had told them that this mare was too old to pull logs anymore, but Gerd used her to plow the garden and pull the wagon. Perhaps she would be used to take the boys to school come fall. So many questions Signe had. She needed to write them down.
“A mouse!” She’d seen it out of the corner of her eye. Grabbing the broom, she slammed it into the corner and either stunned the mouse or killed it.
Leif picked up the mouse. “You got it.” He headed for the door but stopped. “Mor, this is a mother mouse. Look.” He held it out on his palm.
“Throw it out.”
“But she must have a nest. She’s nursing.”
Signe stared at her son. If he had his way, he would catch the mice and make them into pets.
“We have to find the nest,” Leif insisted.
“I agree, or we will have stinky dead bodies. Or more mice running around.” But where to look? “Pull all the drawers out, it must be behind them.” She had washed the drawers but not pulled them all the way out.
He removed the drawers and then crawled inside the cupboards to look. “In here. Give me the dust pan.” He waved his arm, and Signe handed him the pan. “There goes another one! To the right!”
Signe whapped the mouse when it tried to run along the baseboard. She missed and slammed the broom down again.
“You got it.”
Leif backed out of the cabinet. The dustpan held a nest of chewed cloth and paper with three pink baby mice in the middle.
“Uff da! Take them all down to the barn cats.”
Both boys gave her matching wounded stares but did as they were told.
“Signe!” came the call from the bedroom.
“Coming.” And here she thought she would be on the road long before now. She took care of Gerd, Knute shoved the drawers back in place, and both boys went to get the horse and cart. When they came to the house, she reminded Gerd that she was leaving and that Knute would be there to help her.
“Do not stop to visit! Come right back! That Mrs. Benson will talk your arm and leg off.”
The thought of talking with another woman sounded just fine to Signe. Perhaps Mrs. Benson would answer some of her questions. She climbed up on the seat and waited for Leif to join her, then flicked the reins and clucked the mare forward. Ears swiveling, the old girl trotted out of the yard and headed for the road.
Leif grinned up at her. “Rosie is a nice horse, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
“She likes oats. When I call her and she comes, I give her a handful.” A frown scrunched his forehead. “Would Onkel get mad at me for that?”
“I don’t know.” They turned right onto the road.
“I don’t want him to get mad at me. Knute said he was going to ride Rosie.”
“He better ask permission first.” She could hear Onkel’s voice in her head: If that boy has time to play with the horse, he is being lazy, and lazy people do not eat at this table.
“Bjorn said there is a nice creek back in the woods and a lake not too far away. He takes the team to the creek to drink. He rode them back yesterday. I want to ride.”
“We’ll see. Perhaps when you have all your work done and Onkel says it is fine with him.” Would he ever allow the boys to do anything that might be thought of as play? She offered Leif the reins. “Here, how would you like to drive?”
“Really?”
“Take one line in each hand and keep them even.”
Leif did as she instructed, watching ahead very carefully. “Takk, Mor.”
Signe raised her face to the sun. A breeze tickled the strands of hair that refused to stay in the braid she had wrapped around her head. She should probably be wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, but since she didn’t have one and wasn’t going to ask to borrow Gerd’s . . . She shrugged. That was just the way it was. And right now, she did not have to think about Gerd and life on their farm.
When they could see several buildings up ahead, she took the reins back. “You did just fine.” She pulled off to the shady side of the weathered, silver building where a hitching rail waited. “You tie her up. Use the knot Far taught you, the one you pull loose with a jerk.”
“I know. So if something happens, the animal can get free.”
Rune had taught the boys the slipknot for tying up cows, but here it would work just the same.
She made sure her list was in her reticule, climbed down from the wagon, and stepped onto the wooden porch that extended the length of the building. The sign hanging from the roof said Benson’s General Store. A bell jangled over the door when she pushed it open.
“Good morning and we
lcome. How can I help you?”
Signe paused and looked around. General store was certainly an appropriate name. Shelves upon shelves of household necessities, tools and farming equipment, leather boots, logging supplies, and food too, evidenced by the barrels in front of the counter that had seen better days. Jars of candy took up one end of the battle-scarred counter, and the cash register sat in the middle.
A round-cheeked woman with graying hair fighting to escape a loose knot on top of her head nodded and smiled. “I’m Elmira Benson. And who might you be?”
Oh dear. English. How could she manage this? “Uh, hello. My name is Signe Carlson. Uh . . .”
And Mrs. Benson, bless her, said in Norwegian, “Oh! You are the people who came over to help the Strands on their farm.” She had a strong accent and obviously was not quite comfortable with the language.
Much relieved, Signe replied, “Oh, yes!”
“The mister said you were coming. I know they were in dire need of help. He said you had three big boys who would be able to log and pull out stumps.” Mrs. Benson smiled at Leif, who stood beside Signe. “And who is this young man?”
“My youngest son, Leif. The youngest of the three strapping sons.”
Mrs. Benson’s eyes danced, and she leaned slightly forward. “And how big are the other two?”
“Bjorn is fifteen and helping the men with the logging.”
“And your middle boy?”
“Ten and at home tante-watching.”
“And you’ve been here how long?”
“About ten days, but I cannot wait any longer to buy soap and lime. Do you have them?”
“Ah, I’m not sure.” Mrs. Benson shook her head. “My Norwegian is not very good. Do you know the English words for what you need?”
“Uh . . .” Signe pantomimed working a bar of soap between her hands, then rinsing and drying them.
“Oh, of course!”
Lime? Signe was going to have to be more coarse and uncultured than her mor would ever have allowed. Pretending to hike her skirt, she pretended to sit, stood up, looked behind her, and pinched her nose. “Phew!” Then she said, “Lime!” in Norwegian and tossed pretend lime down a hole.
The Promise of Dawn Page 9
