God, what is happening with my friend? Are you not listening to our prayers for her health? She looks like something is eating her alive from the inside out, and while I know she wanted another baby, the swelling I see isn’t new life growing inside of her. Ingeborg kept her attention to the quilt pieces she was cutting out, for she knew if she looked at Agnes again, she would burst into tears. And that would be entirely unseemly.
“Ingeborg, are you all right?” Penny leaned close to whisper in her ear.
“Ja, I will be.”
Kaaren’s voice leant music to the words as she concluded her Bible reading with the Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount. “ ‘Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek. . . . ’ ”
When Kaaren closed her Bible, thank-you’s skipped around the room, and those at the quilting frames switched places with those working at something else. The treadle of the sewing machine beat out the time as the needle blurred up and down.
“Can we have cookies now?” One of the children called from the doorway.
“Yes, I suppose it’s time.” One of the mothers rose and, taking a basket outside, let her son pass the cookies around. At the same time, Penny stood and took up the coffeepot, then motioned to Ingeborg to bring the tray of cups. Together they made the rounds so that everyone had coffee and cookies.
The fragrance of hot coffee mingled with that of the beef and noodle soup simmering on the back of the stove, all seasoned with a dollop of laughter and rising like a veil of incense before the altar. A child shrieked in play outside, and the chant of “Red rover, red rover, send Amy right over” made more than one woman smile.
“So when is the baby due?” Ingeborg set the tray down and turned to Penny.
“In September. I’ve been afraid to say anything, you know, afraid I might lose one again.”
“I thought that might be what was keeping you silent. But you look wonderful this time, not like the others.”
“Mange takk. Now . . .” She rolled her eyes so that Ingeborg nodded and smiled.
“Those first months can be pretty miserable for some.”
Penny laid her hand over the beginning mound under her apron. “I believe we are finally going to have a baby to lay in the cradle Onkel Olaf made so long ago.”
“It’s been put to good use.”
“I know. The Johnson baby outgrew it and then the Solbergs’ little Johnny. One thing is sure, we all put things to good use around here.”
“Well, Metiz told me some time ago that this time you would carry the baby to full term. I didn’t even realize you were that way again.” Ingeborg cupped one hand under her elbow as she sipped from the cup of coffee she’d poured herself.
“I wish she would come to these meetings.”
“Me too, but even after all these years she doesn’t feel really welcomed by everyone.”
Penny nodded and lowered her voice, leaning closer to Ingeborg’s ear. “I heard someone mention that it was a shame all our lovely work went to cover some lazy Indian who couldn’t be bothered to take good care of anything.”
Ingeborg squinted her eyes. “Still going on about that, eh? I think we better have Kaaren read about the sheep and the goats again. We seem to need regular reminders that there, but for the grace of God, go I.” And why do I have no doubt who’s been saying such a thing? Oh, Lord, preserve us.
At a sound they both turned toward the window. Was that someone screaming or was it one of the children playing? They listened again and just as they were about to dismiss it as one of the little ones, the scream came again.
“Ma-a-a!”
Ingeborg flew to the door to see the now quiet children staring out across the land. She took the steps running and rounded the corner of the church to look to the north. “Mary Martha,” she called back, “it’s Deborah!”
CHAPTER NINE
“It’s Ma . . . Manda. . . .” Deborah collapsed into Ingeborg’s arms, out of breath from running as fast as she could.
Mary Martha charged down the steps. “What is it? Deborah, what?”
“M-Manda.”
“I’ll get the team.” Ingeborg handed the child to her mother and headed for the hitching rail. “Someone go find Pastor.” With shaking fingers she slipped the knots, bridled the horses, and leaped into the wagon, all the while muttering, “God help us. God help us. Please, God, take care of Manda.” She backed the horses and turned them, aiming to circle the church and head north.
“Kaaren, you come too.” Mary Martha and Deborah climbed up the wheel.
“It’s her arm. A horse threw her,” Deborah said, having finally caught her breath.
“Is she bleeding?” Ingeborg asked the little girl.
“No, not in the arm, but here.” Deborah pointed to a spot on her forehead. “But not bad.”
“The bone isn’t sticking out of her arm?” Ingeborg slapped the reins. “Giddup.” When they only trotted slowly, she slapped the reins again.
“No. But she can’t move it. And it hurts somethin’ fierce. Manda never cries.”
“But she did this time?” Mary Martha clutched the little girl close.
“She screamed, Ma, then cried and said some bad words.” Deborah, shock written all over her slender face, stared up at the woman who was really her aunt but had taken over the care of the girls when their father, Zeb, left home.
Ingeborg kept her gaze on the team and the road. “Where is she now?”
“She was sittin’ up against the corral fence. She sure be mad at that horse.” Deborah leaned into Mary Martha’s side. “I didn’t take time to catch the horse or nothin’. I just ran hard as I could.”
“Do you have bandages rolled?” Kaaren asked from her place right behind the wagon seat. “If it’s broken, we’ll have to set it.”
“Yes, I always keep some of different widths. We haven’t needed them much.”
“Good. And some willow bark for tea will help with the pain.”
“I have some that Metiz left when the baby was born. And we have some spirits too, if we need them. And laudanum.”
“Where is Pastor today?”
“He had some folks to call on south of town. Dropped me and the babies off at the church and said he’d be back in time for dinner.” Mary Martha slapped her forehead. “I ran off and left the babies. Thomas is going to be screaming hungry when he wakes up.”
“Someone else will nurse him. He won’t starve.”
“Land sakes, what is Mrs. Valders going to have to say about all this?”
Ingeborg and Kaaren looked at each other, eyes wide, jaws tight, and lips rolled inward, fighting off the laughter that threatened to erupt in the otherwise stressful moment.
Mary Martha sent Ingeborg a sideways glance. “Not that I’m afraid of her or any such thing.”
That did it. Ingeborg lost control first. She tried to turn her snort into a cough, but that snort was mighty stubborn and snort it stayed. Kaaren’s chuckle perched in the back of her throat as if she were trying to swallow it. Tears brimmed her eyes at the effort. But they made the mistake of looking at each other, and they could disguise their mirth no longer.
“I don’t for the life of me see what y’all are laughin’ at. I reckon you might’ve lost your minds.” But a giggle escaped her too, and Deborah, after looking at each of the women as if trying to figure out who was the looniest, giggled along with the others.
Ingeborg slowed enough to turn into the ranch without tipping or skidding the wagon but picked up the pace again on the straightaway. When she brought the team to a stop at the corral, dust blew in a cloud, and the horses were blowing.
“Manda?”
“Over here against the barn wall in the shade.” Her voice carried an undercurrent of tears.
Mary Martha climbed over the wheel and headed for the gate. “Darlin’, how bad hurt are you?”
The others followed her.
Manda sat in the dirt, tear tracks streaking her cheeks, her r
ight arm cradling her left. “Fool horse.” She glared at the animal, which stood as far away from her as possible. If he could have squeezed through the corral rails and run off, he probably would have. His flicking ears told them he was taking it all in.
Mary Martha knelt beside the girl. But when she reached out to touch the arm, Manda yipped and flinched away, gnawing her lip at the pain.
Ingeborg and Kaaren looked at each other, then back at the shaking girl.
“Mary Martha, come with me,” said Kaaren. “Let’s get the supplies we need. We can set it right here before we move her. We’ll save some pain that way, and it’ll be better for the arm.”
“I ran fast as I could.” Deborah’s lower lip quivered as she stood by her sister.
“I know. Thank you.” Manda, her britches-clad legs straight out in front of her, tried to smile at her little sister. “Could you get my hat, please?” She nodded to the battered lump of felt that looked only remotely like something to be worn on a head.
Ingeborg knelt next to Manda and put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of this.” She called over her shoulder. “You better bring the laudanum too. I think we’re going to need it.” Her attention back on the suffering girl, she stroked the hair back off Manda’s sweat-beaded forehead. “Now, Manda, you know I have to look at that arm.”
“I know. But I can’t move it.” Her shoulders curved forward to protect her arm.
“I promise I’ll be careful, but let me probe it. You know I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
A deep sigh preceded the “All right.”
“Show me where it hurts the most.”
“All over, but mostly here.” Manda pointed to midway between the wrist and elbow.
With prayers flying heavenward even as she leaned forward, Ingeborg gently pushed Manda’s shirt sleeve up her arm, then touched the arm with her fingertips. Although already swollen, the flesh gave enough for her to feel the bump. Closing her eyes, she focused on what she was feeling, all the while murmuring soothing words.
Manda gasped, then groaned.
“Easy, hold still.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.” We’re going to have to pull hard to set this. Oh, Lord, have mercy. Give us strength, especially Manda. Ingeborg tugged a handkerchief out of her apron pocket and handed it to her young friend.
“I . . . I’m not goin’ to lose my arm or some such, am I?” The whisper told of the weight of her fear.
“No, no. It’s just a simple break. People your age heal quickly.”
“How long?” Manda flinched away from Ingeborg’s questing fingers.
“Oh, a few weeks. We can be grateful it wasn’t your neck. What happened?”
“The dog chased a barn cat through the corral, and that fool horse thought it was a cougar, I swear. He went higher’n that barn wall, and I wasn’t hanging on tight enough. When he landed, I took a header.”
“And landed on your arm.” Ingeborg sat back on her heels and glanced up at the barn. “High wall.”
“Seemed it at the time.” Manda sounded more like herself. By the time this story got around, the horse would have jumped clear over the corral poles, if Ingeborg knew anything about Manda’s storytelling abilities. Though she was quiet too much of the time, once she got going on her horses, she’d keep an audience enthralled till the end of the tale.
“Can I get you a dipper of water or something?” Deborah sat beside her sister, her arms clenched around her updrawn knees, her eyes taking up most of her face.
“Bring the whole bucket and pour it over me.”
“Really?”
“Nah, a dipper would be good.” Manda’s eyes followed her sister, as with bare feet flying she headed for the rails, slid between two, and ran to the well. “Scared her right bad.”
“She ran all the way to the church.”
“Poor kid.” But pride shone in Manda’s hazel eyes. Since their ma died and their pa had left for supplies and never returned, the two had been inseparable. Zebulun MacCallister had saved them from dying of starvation on their homestead near the Missouri River and had brought them with him on his own flight that stopped with the folks in Blessing.
Kaaren and Mary Martha returned with the supplies in a basket, along with two pieces of kindling to be bound for the splint. Kaaren poured a couple of glugs from the flat brown bottle into a cup of water and handed it to Manda.
“Drink this. In a couple of minutes you won’t feel any pain at all.”
Manda made a face but drank it all down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her good hand. “Ugh.”
“Now, Manda, Kaaren is going to take your hand, and I’ll hold your elbow. On the count of three we’ll give a hard, steady pull, and please God, that bone will snap right back into place. Then we’ll splint it and wrap it and get you up to the house before you fall sound asleep on us.”
“Don’t got no choice now, do I?”
“Not really.” Kaaren stroked the wisps of dark hair back off the girl’s forehead. “You can scream if you need to. No one to hear but us, and we won’t tell.”
Manda looked to see where Deborah was. “Why don’t you send her to the house for something? She don’t like to see pain. Scares her some bad.”
Mary Martha nodded. “I’ll take care of that.” She handed the stick she’d been wrapping in strips of an old sheet to Ingeborg. “We’ll go get something going for dinner.” She met Deborah at the corral. “Come, we need to get Manda something to eat.”
“But I got the water.” Deborah slipped around the partly open gate and headed for her sister, her gaze tight on the dipper so she wouldn’t spill any water. Only after Manda drank the whole thing did the little girl turn and run back to Mary Martha. “Can we have some molasses cookies? That’s Manda’s favorite.”
“I know.” The two of them headed for the house hand in hand.
“You ready?” Ingeborg asked the injured girl.
Manda nodded. “I feel woozy.”
“Good. That’s the way we want you.” Ingeborg took hold of Manda’s elbow with both hands and Kaaren did the same with the wrist.
“One, two, three.” They both pulled. The grating of the bone sounded worse than fingernails screeching on a blackboard. But with a slight snap, it settled back into place. Manda’s eyes flickered open.
“Done?”
“Done. Hold steady now while we wrap this up.” Ingeborg and Kaaren worked together as they had so many times before in tending to injuries of all kinds. Metiz had passed many of her healing skills on to Ingeborg through the years, and that combined with what her mother had taught her made Ingeborg the closest thing to a doctor in the area. Within minutes they had the arm wrapped and bound close to the girl’s chest with a sling tied around her neck.
“I . . . I don’t think I can walk.” Manda, her eyes out of focus, shook her head.
“We’ll help you.” The two women bent over, Kaaren taking the good arm while Ingeborg put her arm around Manda’s waist. “Again, on three. You get your feet under you, and we’ll help lift.”
By the time they had Manda standing, Ingeborg and Kaaren sighed at the same time. They half carried, half walked the girl through the gate and to the house, navigating the steps with some difficulty, as Manda barely heard their instructions to lift her feet.
“One thing sure,” Kaaren said when they laid the girl on her bed. “She’s not a little girl anymore.”
“No, she’s a young woman, whether she likes to admit it or not.” Mary Martha leaned to pull off Manda’s boots, but Ingeborg gently pushed her out of the way. “You’ve got us to do the heavy work right now, so take advantage of it.”
“I’m just pregnant, not an invalid.”
“I know. Let’s go eat.” They left Manda snoring on her bed, pillows propped against her side to keep her from turning over.
“What about Manda?” Deborah looked from her sister to the women and back.
“She’ll eat when she wakes u
p.” And please, God, let that be a long time from now. Ingeborg glanced back at the sleeping girl. They should have taken her dirty clothes off, but they could do that later.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the wooden steps, and Pastor Solberg burst into the house. “What happened?”
“Manda was thrown by a horse and broke her arm. She’s all set and resting, darlin’, so you can calm down now.” Mary Martha met her husband in the middle of the room. “We’re just goin’ to eat. Have you had dinner yet?”
“No. I came straight here. She’s going to be all right?” He looked to Ingeborg for the answer. At her nod, his sigh could be heard clear to the schoolhouse. “Thank God.”
“I should never have left them. . . .”
“Don’t even think of that. Manda is seventeen years old, a grown woman. Why, many girls her age are married already and starting their families.”
“Speakin’ of families, I need to go back to the church for our babies.”
“What?” Pastor Solberg looked like someone had struck him.
“Don’t worry. They’re being well taken care of,” Ingeborg said.
“I know, but . . .” Mary Martha took in a deep breath and let it all out, then turned to the others. “Come, I have a dinner of sorts on the table. Or rather Deborah does.”
As soon as they’d eaten, Pastor Solberg headed his wagon back to the church for his children, and Ingeborg and Kaaren followed. By the time they’d picked up their supplies and told the story for everyone to exclaim over, the afternoon was half over and it was time for everyone to head for their wagons and go home.
“We didn’t do much quilting today.” Kaaren set her basket in the rear of the wagon beside Ingeborg’s.
“You never know what’s going to happen, that’s for sure. Uff da, that poor child.”
“We better quit calling her a child, you know. I’ve seen the looks she and Baptiste exchange when they think no one is watching.”
“Ja. Astrid said she saw them walking out by the river one day. Baptiste had his gun along but hadn’t shot anything.”
“Hard to see game if you’re only looking at Manda.” Kaaren raised one eyebrow.
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