Bjorn said, “I could have bagged another deer too, and ducks and geese if he would let me.”
“I know. Shame.”
Bjorn leaned on his axe. “If he says leave again, I think we should.”
“But where would we go?”
“I don’t know. I like lumbering.”
“Your mor will not leave Gerd in the lurch.”
Bjorn shrugged. “She can come with us, like she said. Let him learn his lesson.”
“I gave my word, son. I will keep my word.” If there is any way I can. I can ignore his yelling, but if he hurts one of us, we will leave.
Chapter
33
Lord, I have to get stronger faster. This is all too much for Gerd.
Signe stared out the window at the swirling snow. Even in here she could feel Einar’s anger at not being in the woods. But Rune and the boys were wonderful. Tonight she would join them for supper if she had to drag herself out there.
Kirstin nuzzled against her breast. At least she had grown a little more patient in regard to eating immediately. “Shush, shush, little one, you can sleep longer. Tante Gerd needs help out there, and here you are about to wake up.” The baby quieted as if listening to her voice. Signe hummed a tune her mor used to sing to her. “Your mormor would so love to see you. She would sing to you and rock you in the chair her far built for her. Your aunties would pass you around and tell you how beautiful you are.”
Both hands on the chair seat, Signe pushed and wobbled to a standing position. How could something so small seem so big when she was so weak? She sat back down. The next time one of her boys or Rune came in the door, she would call for them to help her into the kitchen. She could help Gerd if she didn’t have to stand or walk. Or carry the baby.
Gerd came in and sank down on the edge of the bed beside her. “Would you like some coffee and a cookie?”
“Of course, but let me come out there.”
“Nei, I will bring it in here. The diapers are strung all over the kitchen. I forgot to ask Rune to string a clothesline on the porch.”
“You would freeze hanging them up. This is better. Something certainly smells good.”
“Ham and beans again. Not being able to get down to the cellar from inside the house is disgusting. I told Einar I wanted stairs but . . .”
“Like the stairs to the attic?”
“Ja, something like that. Your man and boys are out cutting up a tree and splitting wood.”
“In the snow and blizzard wind.”
“They are more protected on that side of the house, but ja. Getting too dark already, and time to start chores. I heard them laughing out there.” Gerd paused and nodded. “This house has not heard much laughter.” She heaved herself to her feet. “Maybe two cookies. I might bake again tomorrow.”
“Now that the baby has diapers again, eh?”
Gerd returned a few minutes later with a tray. As always, the first sip of coffee made Signe sigh in delight. Just enjoying food and drink again, rather than forcing herself to swallow, was something else to be thankful for.
“Thank you, Gerd.” She took a bite of cookie and closed her eyes. Dipping her cookie in the coffee made her smile again. “Cookies are such a treat.”
“The boys helped me, you know. They are good boys.”
“Leif told me how much fun he had. They never helped in the kitchen before. There were always girls around to do that. Cousins and tantes, everyone pitched in to help.”
“So different for you here.”
“Ja, but look how much better you are.”
Gerd nodded. “That I am, and I have you to thank for that.”
“And God. He answered my prayers for you.”
Gerd stared at her, her mouth half open. “You prayed for me?”
“Not like I should have, because for a while I decided God was not listening and did not care. But then Rune reminded me of the ways He has taken care of us. He prayed for you more than I did.”
“Does Rune pray for Einar?” At Signe’s nod, Gerd shook her head. “Waste of time.”
Kirstin squirmed and made her waking-up noises.
“You take care of her, and I will go start the corn bread. Need to bake bread again, but the kneading . . .” Gerd shook her head. “Just do everything a little at a time, I tell myself. And you’ll get it done.”
“Re-measure that one, Bjorn. Make sure you are accurate. If the bed is not exactly square, the ropes will pull it apart.”
Rune stood in the machine shed with his sons. They had started a fire in a protected corner to keep warm.
“We finished cleaning that up.” Knute pointed to the throwaway stack in the corner. “The tools we found are in the first box. Broken metal pieces are in the other. Now what?”
Rune picked up the plane. “See the rust on here? Sit down and scrub it with sand to remove the rust. Wet the sand just enough to make it stick.” He demonstrated, using his gloved fingers to scrub. Clapping his hands together to warm them, Rune returned to drilling four holes in each side of the bed and two in either end.
Einar left off oiling the mower parts and went to stand near the fire, rubbing his hands together.
Bjorn laid the last pine frame board on top of the other one. Rune measured where the slots would be. One of these days, he would cut down an oak or maple to use for furniture for their own house. “My far would find good trees and keep the trunks up in the haymow of the barn to dry out.”
“We could do that,” Bjorn said.
“Not till all the big trees are cut down.” Einar returned to his machinery. “Knute, hand me that oilcan.”
“If we had a dead tree in here, we could be splitting firewood.”
Einar shook his head. “On the porch. You stacked that on the porch. Besides, keeping that box full is Leif’s duty.” He glared at Leif. “You, boy, hand me that file.”
Leif looked at Rune, who nodded. Leif picked up all three files and held them out for Einar to choose the one he wanted.
“The big one,” Einar growled. “Don’t you see what I’m doing?”
Leif dropped the other two. “Sorry.” He picked them up and dusted them off on his pant leg.
“Put them back in the right place.”
“Yes, sir.”
Einar jerked his glove off and swore at the same time. “Hand me that wrench.” He pointed to one up on the seat of the mower. Leif climbed up on the mower to get the wrench and handed it to Einar. Somehow the wrench dropped down into the mechanism. “Can’t you do anything right?” Einar’s roar shook the windows.
He reached over to retrieve it, shifting his balance, and slipped, ramming his hand against one of the newly sharpened blades. Blood spurted onto the floor. Einar swore and grabbed his wounded hand.
Rune leaped to his feet, whipping off his scarf. “Here, we’ll wrap it in this until we get you to the house.”
“Stupid boy!” Einar held out his hand, blood dripping from the slice across his palm. He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket with the other hand. “Use this first.” All the while he muttered and glared at Leif, who had tears streaming down his face.
“I didn’t mean to . . .”
“It was an accident.” Rune wrapped the handkerchief around Einar’s hand. “Put pressure on that while I get the scarf around it.” He glared at Einar. “Enough! Let’s get you to the house. Signe is good with wounds.”
“Never get that mower done now.”
Rune spoke softly. “You boys keep on with what you’re doing. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Leif sniffed. “Far, I’m so sorry.”
“It was not your fault, accidents just happen.” He threw the words over his shoulder as he and Einar walked out into the snow, which seemed to be letting up. Their tracks had not filled all the way with snow in the hours they had been in the machine shed.
Einar staggered, so Rune took his arm.
Einar shrugged him off. “I’m fine.” Snow lay several inches deep on the
porch steps and had blown into drifts even on the porch. They kicked through it and stomped their boots on the mat as Rune opened the door.
“Sweep off,” Gerd ordered.
“No time. You ever sewn up a gash?” Rune asked.
“Nei.” She stared at the red seeping through the scarf. “You need a doctor.”
“Signe will take care of it.”
Einar mumbled more expletives as he sank down on a chair. Leaving him, Rune shrugged out of his coat and strode into the bedroom.
Signe had the baby tucked into the bed and was already standing. “What happened?”
“Einar cut himself on one of the saw teeth. Pretty bad.” He helped her into the kitchen.
“I need to wash my hands first.” She scrubbed her hands at the sink, and he eased her into the chair by Einar. “We will need strips of cloth, something for disinfectant, and probably a needle and thread, both of which need to be boiled.” She unwrapped the scarf and then the blood-soaked handkerchief. “Get me a basin and hot water. We have to stop the bleeding. I need a dish towel. Einar, we have to get your jacket off.” She wrapped the towel around his hand. “Rune, help him.” All the while she pressed against the blood vessels just above his wrist.
With Einar grunting and cussing, Rune got his coat off his other arm and gripped the cuff above the wound. “Ready?”
“Ja.” Signe released his hand, then grabbed it again once the sleeve was gone. She looked Einar in the face. “If you do not stop your vile language, I will walk away.”
The fiery glare he sent her could have knocked her off her chair, but he closed his mouth and fell quiet.
“The needle and thread are boiling.” Gerd set a bottle of carbolic acid on the table along with strips of an old sheet.
“Takk.” Signe pressed against Einar’s wrist. “Rune, see where I’m pushing? Please take over. I’m not strong enough.”
He pressed against the vessels in Einar’s wrist and saw it was working. The flow slowed, nearly stopped.
“I’m going to pour carbolic acid over the cut.” Signe looked Einar directly in the eyes. “This will hurt.”
A curt nod was his only response.
“Ready?”
“Get it over with. I got work to do.”
She looked at Rune and shrugged. She poured, keeping the lips of the cut open with the fingers of her other hand. “It looks clean.”
“Bled enough.” Sweat beaded on Einar’s forehead. He was sure brave; Rune could admire that.
“Needle and thread.”
Gerd returned with those. Signe threaded the needle and turned to the hand. She looked up at Einar, who was turning white around the mouth. “You have to hold still. Rune, keep pressing. Do you want to lie down?”
“Nei. Just get it over with.”
Signe forced the needle through his tough skin, knotted it, and clipped the thread like she had seen a doctor do.
By the third stitch, Einar groaned. Keeping his eyes clamped shut, he waited. “How many more?”
“Two. I’m sorry. This is a bad one.”
Signe put in the final two stitches, and Rune slowly released his pressure on Einar’s wrist. No more bleeding. Thank you, Lord. Folding a piece of cloth to make a thickly wadded dressing, Signe laid it over the wound. Using the strips, she wrapped his palm and knotted the ends at the back of his hand. Rune considered it quite a professional-looking job.
“You might say thank you.” Gerd had her own brand of needling.
Einar grunted and got to his feet. “Put your coat on, Rune. We got to get the wagon bed moved over to the sledge so we can get to the woods tomorrow.”
Signe stared at him with her mouth open. “You cannot work in the woods with a cut like that!”
“I am cutting trees tomorrow!” Einar’s roar made the house shake. His good arm slid into its sleeve, but the bad one he had to force in. His jaw clamped until his skin turned white. He grabbed his hat and headed for the door. “Rune?”
“In a minute.” He helped Signe to her feet. “You sure earned a rest. You and Gerd both.” With his arm supporting her, she made it to the bed and sat. He lifted her feet and pulled the quilt over them. “Sleeping is a good idea,” he whispered, kissed her on the forehead, and left the room.
Einar and the boys were in the machine shed, where Bjorn had just drilled the last hole in the bed frame.
“All we have left is the mortise and tenons for the legs.” Bjorn stared at Einar’s wrapped hand, which was too big and sore to pull a mitten over. “Are you sure you should be down here? I mean, what if you hurt that worse?”
Einar raised his hand. “Now a stripling lad is telling me what to do!”
You don’t consider him a stripling lad when you expect him to do a man’s work. But Rune held his peace.
It took over an hour for them to unbolt the wagon bed and lift it off its axles using the hay pulley, so it was completely dark by the time they got the bed lowered onto the sledge frame and bolted in place.
Einar had to eat supper with his left hand. He looked like he was going to explode any minute. Sweat beaded his forehead every time he touched something with his right hand. He finally finished his bowl of ham and beans, ate his corn bread, and drained his coffee before he rose, pushing his chair back with his legs.
“I am going to bed.”
Signe stared right at him, meeting his glare. “I think we should bury your hand in snow, since we do not have ice.”
“Nei!”
“You better sleep in the house.” Gerd spoke as calmly as Signe had.
“There is no bed.” He glared at both women.
“You can sleep on a pallet in the parlor.”
“I’ll go get your quilts from the barn.” Rune stood and headed for the coatrack.
Bjorn asked, “Mor, is there any of the pain stuff that the doctor gave me left?”
“Ja, I think so. The powder packets are gone, but we still have the bottle of laudanum. In the pantry on the second shelf, far right side.”
Bjorn went to find the medicine. “Here, Onkel Einar, this can help you sleep tonight. Mor put it in water for me.”
Einar started to reach with his right hand but quickly caught himself.
“Two spoonsful to a glass of water,” Signe said.
“It tastes vile, but it works.” Bjorn made a face.
“Can’t I just drink it from the bottle?” Einar asked.
“Two swallows,” Signe said, “but . . .”
Einar held the bottle against his chest with his right arm and twisted the cap off with his left. He took two swallows and made a gagging noise.
Gerd handed him a glass of water, shaking her head. “Stubborn fool.”
At least he did sleep. His snoring in the parlor testified to that.
The next morning, Rune walked out to breakfast with two lovely ladies on his arms: Signe on his right, and Gerd on his left. Einar was already sitting at the table, tapping his fork impatiently as Bjorn turned sausages and fried eggs out onto a plate. He set the plate before Onkel Einar and turned back to the stove to pour coffee.
“Bjorn, I’m amazed!” Signe sat down, and Rune continued to the stove to help Bjorn.
Bjorn grinned wickedly. “You know how long I have waited to be able to say this? Bring in more wood!”
Even Gerd laughed heartily. Rune glanced toward Einar, who had not so much as cracked a smile.
He brought in an armload of wood, and the fierce wind slammed the door behind him. “Sun out there, but bitter cold.”
“The wind will die,” Gerd assured him, “and the snow in sun is beautiful.”
Rune warned, “You boys better leave for school early. Rosie will be slow plowing through the snow. Out on the road, others might have already broken a trail. Get off and walk when she’s struggling with drifts. Let her pick her own way.”
All bundled up, the schoolboys headed out the door.
“Rosie is saddled, and I harnessed the team after I watered them,” Bjorn said.
“It sure is cold out there.”
“Too cold to work in the woods safely.” Rune looked at Einar as he said, “We’re not going out there, Bjorn.”
Einar looked ready to erupt, but his mouth was full.
“What’ll we do instead?” Bjorn asked.
“Cut a hole in the kitchen ceiling right up there.” Rune pointed. “Then we’ll build a wood—”
“I said no! No hole in the ceiling!”
“—den grate so that no one steps in it and turns an ankle.”
Einar slammed his good hand on the table. “That does it! I’m done with you! You all are going to jail!”
He snatched his coat off the rack, grabbed his mittens, and stormed out the door.
Rune looked at Gerd. “Would he try to go clear into Blackduck?”
“Who knows what the silly fool might do. But you are wise, Rune. This cold wind will give you bad frostbite out in those woods. Another log or two is not worth the danger.”
Bjorn looked up at the ceiling. “I can help you cut the hole.”
“I’ll go get the brace and bit and keyhole saw. You help with the dishes.” Rune grinned. “And then bring in more wood.”
Signe pulled Kirstin’s soaker up around her diaper and laid her on the heavy baby blanket. She wrapped and tucked until her baby was in a warm, close cocoon. Kirstin drifted instantly to sleep. Signe picked up the papers on the dresser and carried them and the baby to the kitchen. “Where are Rune and Bjorn? I thought they would be back by now, cutting their hole.”
Seated at the table, Gerd looked up from peeling potatoes. “Leif found the old potbelly stove out behind the shed. They’re setting it up to keep the pigpens warm.”
“Ah.” Signe sat down and laid the baby on her legs.
Gerd put down the peeler. “How dare you neglect the poor thing so. Give her to me.” She held out her arms.
Smiling, Signe handed over her daughter.
Tante Gerd cooed and cuddled Kirstin as she watched Signe lay out the papers and pick up her pencil. “What are you doing?”
“If Einar does go into Blackduck to talk to the sheriff, and should the sheriff actually come out here, I want my calculations to show all the days we’ve worked since I showed this to Einar. The calculations are months out of date. Also, I have the letter of agreement we all signed, just so Einar cannot make false statements.”
The Promise of Dawn Page 30
