[Return To Red River 01] - A Dream to Follow

by Lauraine Snelling

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Blessing, North Dakota

  September 1893

  “Thorliff, you’re home!” Anji threw herself into his arms.

  He let her cry on his shoulder, smoothing her hair with one hand and stroking her back with the other. Sobs shook her body and burrowed into his soul.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” His whisper only made her cry harder.

  “I . . . I miss her so. Every day I wake up thinking I’ll tell Ma something, and she’s not here. Her chair sits empty. I can’t hear her singing. Thorliff, I want to hear her sing just one more time. That’s all I ask.” She wiped her eyes with her fingertips, then dug in her apron pocket for a handkerchief. She held it up for him to notice the neatly embroidered A bordered by two tiny blue forget-me-nots. “No matter what I do, there is some part of her with me.”

  What if it were my mother? The thought brought a lump to Thorliff ’s throat like a piece of coal. He sniffed back the tears Anji’s drew forth and took the handkerchief from her hand. Gently, tenderly, he wiped her eyes and the tear tracks down her cheeks. All the while, he poured his love into her eyes to soothe her soul.

  “Th-thank you.” She tucked her handkerchief back in her pocket. “Sorry to greet you like this. I figured I could handle it by now, but the sight of you . . .” She sighed. “She loved you, you know.”

  “She’s been nearly a mother to me too, through all these years. If I wanted advice, I just had to ask, and sometimes I got it even when I didn’t ask.”

  “Or didn’t want it. I know. Ma had a gift for seeing inside of folks and finding the best.” Together they sat on the steps of the back porch so they could be in the shade.

  “Have you been home yet?”

  “No, I came straight here. Far sent me home early since we were near a train station.” He slid his fingers between hers so their palms lay together and rested them on his knee. “How’s your Pa?”

  “Not good. He wanders around like a lost soul. Swen’s been in charge in a way, telling Pa that such and such needs doing, then Pa goes and does it. The younger ones don’t know what to make of it, not that I do. But I feel kind of the same. Guess it’s different for women though. People got to be fed, clothes washed, the garden put by. With Ma so sick, most of it fell to me, so I just keep on doing what I been doing.”

  “Penny said a farm burned south of here.”

  “Uh-huh. A young couple’s place. Your ma helped birth their baby, so they’re staying over to your house in the soddy.” She swiped at a stubborn tear.

  “Could they come help out here?”

  “I don’t know. I can manage. All of us are pitching in, that’s all.”

  Thorliff lifted their hands and kissed the tips of her fingers. “I need to get on home and surprise Ma before someone tells her I got off the train.”

  “Thorliff, you are such a good man.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I am the luckiest girl in the world.”

  Oh no. I just hope you never learn how sad and scared I am inside. I’ll try to be who you think I am. Truly I will. He surged to his feet, pulling her up with him. “I’ll be back later.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and nearly ran out the yard, picking up his bedroll at the gate. He waved once and took off toward home.

  Paws stood at the gate of the yard, barking to announce a visitor. When he heard Thorliff call his name, he tore out to meet him, yipping and grinning his embarrassed doggy grin.

  “You’re forgiven.” Thorliff rubbed the dog’s ears and head, leaning down for a quick lick on the cheek. Paws wriggled and whined, trying to make up for his gaff. “That’s okay. You didn’t know it was me. You were just doing your job. Good dog.” He adjusted his pack and picked up his trot again. Home had never looked so good. But where was everyone?

  Surely they had heard Paws barking.

  He dropped his bedroll on the front porch and looked over to Aunt Kaaren’s. Glancing up, he saw the sun stood directly overhead. Dinner should be on the table, but no good smells teased him from the kitchen. He headed for the cheese house. Perhaps they were all working in there. But when he opened that door, all that greeted him was the smell of ripening cheese and the slightly sour smell of whey dripping from the presses into buckets for the pigs.

  “Where are they, Paws?”

  The dog looked over his shoulder to the other big house, then yipped and started off, now looking over his shoulder to make sure Thorliff was following.

  “You better not be leading me on a wild goose chase.” Paws yipped again, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.

  “Halloo. Anyone home?” He leaped up the porch steps and went in the front door. Following the sound of voices, he wound his way back to the school wing.

  “Thorliff!” Astrid saw him first and ran to throw her arms around his waist. “You’re early.”

  Grace and Sophie followed Astrid, and by the time he’d greeted them all, his mother stood in front of him, waiting her turn.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Ja. Pa just sent me home early because we were near a train station yesterday. The train had just left though, so I slept at the station last night.”

  “Have you had anything to eat?”

  “Leave it to a mother.” Aunt Kaaren came to give Thorliff a hug too. “Good to have you home. Welcome to pandemonium alley.” She indicated the room that usually wore a comfortable look with sofas and table and chairs for games and studying. With no furniture, no curtains, and strips of wallpaper on some walls and not others, it was obviously refurbishing time.

  “We wanted to have it all done before the threshing crew returned.” Ingeborg wiped wallpaper paste from her hand. “Having someone as tall as you will surely make this job easier.”

  “You can have my job,” Ilse called from the top of a ladder where she was smoothing a strip of paper in place with a damp cloth.

  “Where’s Andrew?”

  “He went with the Mendohlsons to see if they could salvage anything from their burned place.”

  “Tante Penny told me about that. Lightning start it?”

  “Ja, and they hadn’t plowed a fire break around the buildings. There have been so many fires, but they’ve stayed mostly in the fields. Thank God we haven’t had a real prairie fire.”

  “There was one north of Devil’s Lake. We saw it burning one night and still some the next morning. But it was far away from where we were.”

  “You didn’t answer me. Are you hungry?”

  “Starved. Mrs. Sam sent food with me, but I ate the last of it early this morning.”

  “Good. Astrid, you go set the table.”

  “Can’t we eat outside?”

  Kaaren nodded. “That would be fine. A picnic under the cottonwood tree.”

  Within minutes they had taken plates full of venison stew with dumplings outside and found places on benches or the dry grass. Trygve said grace at his mother’s insistence, and amid chatter and laughter, they caught Thorliff up on all the news. There were two new calves. A letter had arrived from Manda saying that they were at the ranch and they loved it. There were three new registrants for the deaf school, one a man of twenty-three, and one of the cats had a new batch of kittens in the barn. The last piece of information was signed by Grace, who always knew when baby animals of any kind were being born. If there were bummer lambs or piglets in need of bottle feeding, she took care of them. Andrew had trained her well.

  Thorliff told of the adventures of the threshing crew, not that there were many funny stories to tell this year. The drought was all anyone talked about, or so it seemed. “Far said he should be home in two weeks or so unless someone new comes to get him.”

  “Thank the good Lord there were no accidents this year.” Kaaren leaned against the tree trunk. “And we’ll keep praying for their safety.”

  Ilse brought out a plate of molasses cookies and passed them around. “You want I should mix up more paste for the wallpaper?”

  “Yes,
please. Maybe with Thorliff helping we can be finished by suppertime.” Kaaren arched her back, pushing her shoulders into the tree. “I’d rather plant a garden or do the wash any day. Two more weeks, and we’ll have students arriving. Where does the time go?”

  “Only one week and Thorliff leaves.” Astrid leaned against her big brother and looked up at him with sad eyes. “I really don’t want you to go away.”

  He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Me neither.”

  “Thorliff, you’re not having second thoughts again, are you?” Ingeborg stopped folding the blanket she’d been sitting on and stared at him.

  “No, no second thoughts, only third and fourth and . . .” He sighed and shook his head at the same time. “I just keep thinking maybe I should wait and go next year.” He didn’t mention that Haakan had refused to even talk about it.

  “Ja, well, you cannot back out now. Kaaren and I finished your new suit, and Bestemor knit you two new sweaters, one a vest and the other long sleeved with a V neck. Your trunk is nearly full.”

  “I hemmed you six new handkerchiefs.” Astrid grinned when he tugged on her braids. “Stop that. And I did them on the sewing machine.”

  “She’s going to be a good seamstress. You just watch.”

  “Astrid is good at whatever she does.” Sophie both signed and spoke at the same time so that Grace could be sure what they were saying, although Grace had learned to read lips to go with signing.

  “I made you a pi-ow.” Grace spoke slowly and precisely, her eyes dancing at the look of astonishment on her cousin’s face.

  “Grace, you can talk!” Thorliff leaped to his feet and, grabbing Grace’s hands, swung her around and around, her skirts flying and her laughter rising like soap bubbles on a breeze.

  “We’ve been working very hard all summer, but she wanted to keep it a secret and surprise you.” Kaaren blinked several times before she continued. “Grace wanted to talk so desperately.”

  Thorliff stopped swinging her and dropped to his knees so he could see her eye to eye. “Grace Knutson, I am so proud of you I could . . . I could . . .” Bereft of words, he hugged her to him. When she patted his cheeks and threw her arms around his neck, he glanced up to see tears streaming down his mother’s face. Likewise his aunt’s.

  He pulled back enough to look Grace straight on so she could read his lips. “Grace, if you can do something so wonderful as this, you are an example to all of us.” She smiled the kind of smile that makes angels sing, let alone humans. He cleared his throat, tried to say something else, then hugged her again instead. Ah, Gracie, if you can do this, I can surely go to school and do well. Someday I am going to write your story. He looked up at his aunt. And yours.

  The days before he was to leave disappeared in a heartbeat. Each day he looked for a letter from Haakan, a telegram, anything that would give his blessing. He spent part of each evening with Anji. When he choked up telling her about Grace’s speaking, the tears rolled down her cheeks also.

  “She is the most precious child. I watch her at church and did so when we were in school. She is always looking out for someone less fortunate and sharing something she has without letting anyone know.”

  “God knows.”

  “She and Andrew are much alike.”

  “Ja, but he fixes things with his fists.” Thorliff shook his head.

  “He is a boy.”

  “Who thinks he’s a man.”

  Anji chuckled at the look he gave her. “Ah, my Thorliff, how often I watched you keep him out of trouble. He and the woodpile have gotten to be pretty good acquaintances at times.”

  “But you know, he never fights for himself but always for someone else. I know Pastor sees that, but often I didn’t think it fair that Andrew was punished.”

  “We did have plenty of chopped wood for the stove.” She laid her head on his shoulder so naturally she might have been doing it for years. “Woodpiles are good for discipline. One has a lot of time to think when chopping wood.”

  “A lot of anger gets worked off there.”

  She looked up to his face. “Don’t tell me you ever had to do that?”

  “Fine, I won’t tell you.” Her lips invited his kiss, pleaded for one. He obliged, and their lips lingered together. When he lifted his head, he put a hand to her cheek. “I must go.”

  “I know. I will see you in the morning at the train.”

  “Ja.” His throat closed. Tomorrow was indeed the day. And he hadn’t heard from his father.

  It seemed half the countryside had gathered at the train station in the morning to see Thorliff off. No one from Blessing had ever gone away to school like this before.

  “You don’t look as happy as I thought you would.” Ingeborg leaned close so others didn’t hear her.

  “I know.” Thorliff sighed. “This is a big thing.”

  “True. A gift from God.”

  Thorliff chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked up the track. He could see the smoke from the stack in the distance. He really was going off to college, something he’d thought on and dreamed about for years. Why couldn’t he get more excited?

  Kaaren hugged him and slipped something into his pocket. “For a rainy day.”

  “Must be going to be a lot of rain. You aren’t the first one.” Her chuckle at his sally made him smile in return. He turned to look down at Anji, who clung to his left arm. “Just think, your turn will be next.”

  A slight shake of her head said what she thought about that.

  Thorliff turned to his aunt Penny. “You make sure of that, will you please? There must be some way Anji can go to school to be a teacher.”

  “I will.” Penny and Hjelmer smiled at each other and then at Thorliff. “You can trust us.”

  The train puffed into the Blessing station, metal screeching against metal as it braked to a stop. The conductor stepped off.

  “Mercy, I don’t have room for all these folks.”

  “We aren’t going, only Thorliff.” Sophie pointed to her cousin. “He’s going to college.”

  “Well, can you beat that.” He took a gold pocket watch out of his vest pocket. “If he’s going on this train, he better get to moving.”

  Amid hugs and handshakes and more “rainy day” gifts, Thorliff picked up his carpetbag of food and books and last minute things. He took in a shoulder-lifting breath and let it out. He turned to Anji. “I will write to you every day.” His eyes promised truth to his words.

  Anji nodded, her smile trembling but still radiant.

  Turning to his mother, he said, “Thank you, Mor. Tell Far . . . tell him . . .” He rolled his lower lip between his teeth and let out a breath. He reached for the handlebar with one hand and swung his bag up with the other.

  “Thorliff!” A call echoed across the prairie.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Northfield, Minnesota

  September 1893

  Elizabeth set her foot atop the wooden ball and swung back her mallet.

  “Stop. Stop. That’s not fair.” Thornton Wickersham strode toward her.

  “Of course it is. House rules.” She swung her mallet again.

  “Not by the book.” He withdrew a roll of paper from his back pocket and held it for her to see.

  “And your point, Mr. Wickersham?” Elizabeth set her foot back on the ground and relaxed her grip on the mallet handle, setting the head on the ground and leaning lightly on the handle.

  “But the book says . . .”

  “Rule number four according to Phillip Rogers: One can use one’s foot to hold his or her own ball in place while he or she smacks his or her opponent’s ball into the lilacs. Personally, in this case I’d go for the pond, but”—she glanced at his white pants and shoes—“I’ll take pity on your spiffy attire and go for the lilacs. Hate to have you mess up your white shoes retrieving your ball from the pond. They do float however.” She indicated the two balls lying side by side on the closeclipped grass.

  “I still say—”

 
; “I know. It’s not fair. But, my dear sir, rule number six, according to . . .”

  “According to Phillip Rogers.” He rolled his eyes, his grin spoiling any seriousness he tried to affect.

  “Splendid. You’re catching on.” She assumed a schoolmarmish expression. “Rule number six: All is fair in war and croquet.”

  “Sure hope I never have to go to war with your father. Hit the ball so we can finish this round.” His sigh lifted both shoulders and drooped his face.

  With one tap she sent his ball rolling toward the lilacs, and then while he groaned, she knocked her ball through the last two wickets to hit the post. “That’s three to one. Care to go again?”

  “No, thank you. I don’t think my male ego can handle another trouncing like this.” He gathered the balls and mallets, setting them into their places on the croquet cart. “I suppose you are equally adept at chess.” One eyebrow quirked at the question.

  “I played on the St. Olaf chess team last year.”

  Thornton groaned again. “I suppose our two colleges are arch rivals?”

  “Something like that.” She tucked her hand into his arm. “Come, I see Cook is bringing out refreshments. She rather likes you, you know.”

  “I imagine she would give me a drubbing in croquet too.” His mournful look sent her laughter pealing through the leaves of the sycamore that spread a bounty of shade over the white-painted iron chairs and table. A platter of cookies and iced glasses of lemonade awaited them.

  He seated her first before taking his own chair and leaning back with a sigh. “What a pleasant afternoon. Thank you for taking time from your busy schedule to entertain me.”

  “My pleasure.” She passed the plate of cookies and nodded for him to choose a glass. Did she dare tell him, or rather ask him, about the plan she’d been concocting? In the three times they’d seen each other since the first supper, she’d grown to enjoy him more and more. She hadn’t taken much time to keep friendships alive, so laughing and teasing with him was fun. In her mind one of the advantages was that she felt no romantic attraction to him at all, so they could be friends.