The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1)

by Riker, Becky

  “Because he is German?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did he be making money if business stop?”

  Will shrugged, “There is no other mill nearby. People still needed lumber.”

  “And how does he get vork done vis no vorkers?”

  “There was not as much need for lumber during the war, so he was able to keep going. He had a few teenage boys who would stop by and help if they thought they could do it without getting caught by their parents. It was a good way to earn a few bucks.”

  “Bucks?” Ben was clearly unfamiliar with this term.

  “Dollars.”

  “Vill I speak to him tomorrow?”

  “If you like, but I have to tell you there is more.”

  “Oh?”

  “If you work for Mr. Kluge, there is a chance you will be ostracized. . .that people will treat you worse because you are working for a German.”

  Benard nodded, “So ve vill go first think in ze mornink?”

  Will smiled broadly and clapped a hand on Benard's shoulder, “Bright and early.”

  Will’s daughter, Sara, listened to the men converse from out in the hall. She could not understand how Benard could willingly subject himself to the treatment he was sure to get. Perhaps he did not know just how bad it might be.

  Sara stepped away from the kitchen door, not wanting to be caught. Climbing the stairs to her bedroom, she wondered if there was something she could say to make Benard understand. It was hard enough for him to get a job and make friends with his thick accent. Nobody would want to be seen with a man who worked for a Gerry.

  She sat down on her bed and opened her school books. The trigonometry was really getting tricky. She sighed as she re-read the instructions.

  “That was quite a noise,” Ellie came in and sat on her own bed.

  Sara looked up, “I spent the morning at the library and an hour this afternoon with Mrs. Horn trying to figure this out, but I still don’t understand it.”

  “I'm not surprised,” her sister snorted, “Mrs. Horn never could make me understand my math either.”

  Sara clamped her lips together in disapproval, “That is because you hated math, and you never listened to her.”

  “Teacher's pet,” Ellie laughed as she moved to her desk.

  “Was not,” Sara knew Ellie was right though. Apparently, she still was since her old high school teacher had called to say she would be willing to help Sara any time throughout the summer. Unfortunately, Mrs. Horn's understanding of this material was fairly limited.

  “I don't understand why you would take trigonometry by correspondence anyway. Wouldn't it have been easier to do it during the school year when you had plenty of teachers around?”

  Sara flopped back on her bed, “Now you tell me.”

  Ellie laughed at her sister before turning to write her letter. She had gotten a letter from Sam just that morning and wanted to reply quickly so it could get in the morning mail.

  Dear Sam, July 10, 1945

  In answer to your question, yes, I am very happy to be out of school. The hospital here is not in need of nurses like the ones up in the Twin Cities. I have a job, of course, but I feel as though my skills could be put to more use in a different setting. My parents are not excited about that idea, but I feel it is time for me to leave the nest.

  I have applied to St. Mary's hospital in Rochester as well as St. Joseph's in St. Paul. Mother hopes I will get the position in Rochester, but I enjoyed the Cities while I was there last year for school. I wouldn’t like to live in the city all my life, but I think it’ll be an interesting thing to tell my children someday.

  Michael and Karlijna will begin building their house next month. I know they feel they are imposing on John and Louisa, but Louisa says she will miss the help with little Rosie.

  Do you know yet when you get to come home? I am sure your mom and dad are eager to see you. Michael said he plans to come visit you once you are back as long as you don't wait until harvest time. Karlijna is excited to go as well because she wants to go back to Chicago with Michael since she only saw it in the dark before.

  I told my mother I could apply to a hospital in Chicago, but she was not amused. I didn't mean it to be funny, I was just trying to point out that St. Paul was not that far away. My father's older sister went to teach in California during WWI. I have no plans to do that, but I think wars have a tendency to scatter people about.

  Do you plan to go back to med school when you arrive back in the states? I know you said your uncle would like you to come work for him. Your mother is right that it would be a solid profession. There is new construction going up everywhere. I mentioned that to Michael and he raised his eyebrows at me. I'm not sure what that was supposed to mean. Karlijna said if you pray about it, God will certainly tell you what to do. She is right, of course, but the words don't always sink from my head to my heart when someone tells me to do that.

  I helped set a compound fracture last week. Dr. Morgan thought the boy would lose his leg, but now it looks like he is going to heal just fine. I'm glad I don't get sick at the sight of blood because there was a lot of it.

  I should get down and help Mom with supper. I am sure it is chicken again. I should be grateful for meat at all, but I do long for beef.

  Ellie

  Ellie closed up the envelope and rose from her place.

  “I kinda thought you would quit writing to Sam now that Michael is back,” Sara lifted her head from her book.

  “Oh,” Ellie frowned. “Why?”

  “I don't know. I guess because you were writing to him as a favor to Michael.”

  Ellie sat back down, “But Sam still doesn't have anyone else to write to him.”

  “You don't think you are giving him the wrong idea do you?”

  “About what?”

  Sara looked at Ellie like the younger girl had lost her wits, “About the two of you?”

  Ellie laughed, “Believe me, there is nothing like that going on. Sam's letters are as unromantic as anyone's could possibly be.”

  “And yours?”

  Ellie held up the newly drafted letter, “You want to read it? There is nothing private in it.”

  Sara did not reach for it, “I just hope he isn't planning on coming home and finding you waiting.”

  “He's not thinking that or anything else like it, Sara.”

  Sara shrugged and went back to her trigonometry.

  Ellie went downstairs to check on her mother.

  “Did you write back to Sam already?” Sig looked up from the pot she was tending.

  Ellie nodded, “Mom, do you think there is something strange about me writing to Sam? I mean, do you think he could think I am interested in him?”

  “Aren't you?” Sig replaced the lid and wiped her hands on her apron.

  “I mean, do you think he might think I want to have a more personal relationship with him?”

  Sig put her hands on Ellie's shoulders, “There is always that possibility, Ellie, but I’ve read Sam's letters and yours to him. Unless he is really hiding his feelings from you, he isn't thinking about you in that manner, and you have certainly given him no reason to think you are looking for more than friendship.”

  Ellie breathed deeply in relief before taking plates from the cupboard to set the table.

  “Why the sudden concern?”

  “Sara said something,” Ellie offered.

  “So, you hadn't thought of it before that?”

  “Never.”

  Sig handed some napkins to her youngest, “I wouldn't worry about it.”

  “May I help?” Benard came into the kitchen.

  Ellie pointed to the cupboard, “You can get the glasses.”

  The three of them finished preparing supper.

  “Ellie,” Sig pulled the chicken from the oven, “call your sister down.”

  Ellie put down the rag she was using to wipe the counter and went to do as she was told.

  “Sara?” Ellie called
again when there was no response.

  “She's probably so caught up in that math that she couldn't hear you,” Sig called from the kitchen, “you may have to go get her.”

  “I vill do that,” Benard offered, “I haf letter from my father I like to show you.”

  Ellie went back into the kitchen, “Thanks, Ben.”

  Benard chuckled at Ellie's name for him. He liked it even if it was a bit strange. He went quickly up the stairs and looked into the girls' room, “Sara?”

  The girl's brow was furrowed, a pencil between her teeth. She didn't look up.

  He rapped on the door frame, “Sara?”

  She startled and her attention snapped to him, eyes wide.

  “Sorry for scare,” he willed himself not to smile at her response. “Supper is coming.”

  Sara breathed heavily, “Thanks, Ben. I'll come down right away.”

  Benard smiled broadly. If he thought Ellie's use of his nickname was sweet, it sounded positively wonderful coming from Sara's mouth.

  “Is this your hard math?” he asked as she closed her book and stood.

  “Yes,” she looked toward the text with ill-disguised annoyance, “it is my hard math.”

  “I am like math. I could try help.”

  She cocked her head at him, “Do you know how to do trigonometry?”

  “Trigonometry? Yes. I do this.”

  She looked doubtful, but Benard knew he could prove himself in this area even if he could not do anything else, “If you vant to do this after supper. I can help.”

  He went, then to get his letter and go downstairs.

  Sara brought her math down to the table and set it on the counter.

  “I hope that is not for me,” Will pointed to the homework, “because you know I had enough trouble with algebra.”

  Sara shook her head, “Ben said he could help me,” the young man thought she looked a little nervous when she looked up at him.

  “Benard?” Sig smiled at him and then nodded, “Good. We were losing hope that anyone could help.”

  “Mom,” Sara sounded embarrassed at her mother's words.

  Sig just chuckled.

  An hour later Sara was beginning to think she may just pass the class after all.

  “I don't know why this seemed so difficult, Ben,” she wrote as she spoke. “It makes so much more sense now that you explain it.”

  “I am glad to do something back for your family and not be only burden,” his soft voice made her turn and look more intently at him.

  “You think you are a burden to our family, Ben?”

  He looked down at his hands. Sara looked at Ben's strong clean-shaven jaw, wondering for a moment what it would feel like to run her finger along that line. His dark brows were now drawn together over serious eyes, but she knew those eyes were capable of sparkling with humor as well.

  Sara dragged herself from her admiration of Benard's physical attributes, “You are not a burden, Ben,” she allowed herself to squeeze his shoulder. “You are family, and family is a blessing.”

  He smiled as he looked back at her, “Thank you.”

  She met his eyes before looking quickly back at the paper, “Do you, um, do you think you can help me with the next problem as well?”

  “I can help vit all problems. All days you need help.”

  She swallowed, “But you are starting work tomorrow. You won’t have time.”

  “I vill haf time.”

  “I wish I could help you with something,” she didn't look up at him.

  He was quiet for a moment, but then he spoke, “Could you help me vit my vords?”

  “Your words?”

  “I vish to speak better vords in English. Karlijna says she vas helped by Ellie telling her she vas all wrong. Maybe you could tell me when I am wrong too.”

  Sara stared at him, “You want me to correct you when you say the wrong words?'

  “Yes. And if my vords sound. . .” he looked away as if he was ashamed.

  Sara touched his hand with her own, “You want to sound American,” she avoided implying he was trying to stop sounding German.

  “Yes,” he looked at their hands.

  “I can do that,” she picked up her pencil again.

  “Thank you.”