Elli, Amalie, and their neighbors’ wives fed the men and their families a hearty midday meal. Jan could not eat—he was giddy with the realization of this dream, the happiest he’d been since the day he had first seen his claim. He spent much of his time during the meal thanking and shaking the hands of the men who came to help, often making small, encouraging comments.
The only irritation in the day was the appearance of Adolphe Veicht and his wife Rakel. “Tomas is not well, Herr Thoresen. He has sent us in his stead,” Adolphe announced coolly.
The Thoresens had been attending the German church, usually twice a month, for the past four years. Although language was still a barrier, Jan and Elli had picked up enough German to understand the hymns and to make simple conversations.
The sermons were more difficult to follow, but Jan loved Tomas Veicht, as did the congregation. And in Heidi Veicht Elli felt that her children had been gifted with a bestemor—a grandmother of the heart.
“It is hard for children to grow up without their grandparents, Jan,” Elli mused. “We are so blessed to have Tomas and Heidi in our lives.”
The Thoresens knew that Tomas and Heidi had lived and farmed in this area for more than twenty years—far longer than most in the church. However, it was also clear that Tomas was not as strong a man on the outside as he had been at one time. Tomas still farmed some of his land, but his grandsons and others in the church did much of the work for him.
Yet as much as Jan and Elli loved Tomas and Heidi, their son Adolphe was another story. Adolphe knew the Bible well and sometimes taught the Sunday message, but he and his wife espoused a more severe approach to Christian living than did Tomas and Heidi. Adolphe, Rakel, and their two sons dressed plainly, with little color. They believed frivolity or much humor to be inappropriate.
Despite Jan and Elli’s efforts to break the ice with the younger Veichts, the couple remained aloof, almost disapproving of them. To his puzzlement, Jan felt Adolphe’s eyes continually watching him as though probing for faults.
And so Jan and Elli thought it strange that Karl and Adolphe Veicht got on well. In fact, Adolphe was probably Karl’s closest friend, next to Jan. Amalie, on the other hand, was close-mouthed about the Veichts.
Elli wondered how Amalie fared in a one-on-one conversation with Rakel. The woman invariably had an opinion about everyone and everything—generally a critical one. With Karl so friendly with Adolphe, Amalie could not help but spend time with Rakel; nevertheless, she never spoke to Elli of Adolphe and Rakel.
Why is Adolphe Veicht always cool to me, Lord? Jan thought as the house raising began. While Jan encouraged and cheered the workers, Adolphe watched him closely as if he wanted to catch him doing something wrong! When Jan told a good story—one that made his listeners laugh—Adolphe frowned.
And today Rakel stands apart from the other women as though offended that she is not supervising the meals! Why is that, Lord?
Jan saw Elli and Amalie make attempts to include Rakel and heard her sniff and reply, “I’m sure I would do things differently if I were in charge, but I’ll leave you to manage it your way.”
As if Elli and Amalie should not manage it their way? Why are Adolphe and Rakel so sour? Jan asked himself again. And how is it that Tomas and Heidi, so full of God’s graciousness, have a son like this?
Jan shook his head, frustrated. He noticed Karl and Adolphe in deep conversation. Adolphe seems to have no problem with Karl! Adolphe and Karl’s friendship—more than anything—confused and, Jan admitted, concerned him.
He looked over the workers and saw Adolphe’s sons, Ernst and Frank, working hard—but apart from the other men.
I feel bad for these young men, Lord, Jan prayed. They always look whipped and discouraged.
Jan went out of his way to compliment Ernst and Frank. Although they were in their late teens or early twenties, Adolphe treated the two boys like youngsters rather than as men who were now doing men’s work.
Jan knew exactly how they felt; he made sure to encourage the young men by bringing them into the circle of other men and their conversations. Ernst and Frank exchanged stolen glances with Jan, their eyes brimming with mute gratitude.
When the shadows began to fall that evening and the many friends and neighbors took their leave, each one looked with pride on the results of the community’s labor: No rooms within the house were yet finished and no windows were set within their frames, but the house itself, tall and narrow, was sided and roofed. It had been a good day.
So much of what Jan and Elli had dreamed—built in just one day! That evening they wandered happily through the large living room, the kitchen, and the pantry. They stood in the doorway of the room just off the living room, the room that would be their bedroom.
They walked up the unfinished staircase and stared at the open space. On the second floor Jan would frame four bedrooms, one for Karl, Amalie, and the new baby; one for Søren; one for the “little boys;” and one Sigrün and Kristen would share.
Through the spring and into summer, Jan and Karl spent what time they could spare on the house. Jan focused first on making and installing sturdy doors and shutters. Most of the windows did not have glass; this year they could afford glass only in the kitchen, but someday all the windows would have glass. For now, they would make do with shutters and screens.
In July, Jan and Elli moved into the still incomplete house. It was easier for Jan to do the finish work while living there. Jan, Elli, and the children set up housekeeping in the living room while Jan framed in the upstairs rooms and then lathed and plastered the walls.
Karl and Amalie would stay in the soddy until the upstairs bedrooms were finished and winter closed in. For the few months until then, Jan and Elli would taste life as it would be when they and their children lived in their own home by themselves.
When the family awakened their first morning in the house they ate breakfast in the living room. Jan had knocked together a small table for temporary use. After the meal Søren and Kristen waited expectantly for their father to read to them from the Bible.
Jan blinked in surprise. He had never led his family in daily Scripture reading and prayer. Always it has been either my father or Karl! he realized. Now, for the first time, he was to realize his role as head of their family.
“Elli,” he whispered, “Karl has the Thoresen family Bible, and I do not have one of my own!”
Elli ran to her trunk and brought back a bundle tied up in a scarf. “My pappa and mamma gave this to us when we married, remember? I have been saving it for this day.”
Jan untied the scarf and held the book reverently. The print on the front cover read, Our Family Bible. Jan was overcome at the import of those words. Our Bible. Our family.
He shook his head in wonderment. Inside, on the family page, Elli’s father had lovingly written Jan and Elli’s names and the date of their marriage.
Elli and the children still waited. Jan looked at each of them in turn, giving silent thanks for this day. “Matthew, Chapter 1,” he choked.
It was a moment before he could continue.
Every part of the house was special to Jan, and he worked many more hours than Karl did on it. He did not mind. Because it is our house, mine and Elli’s! he sang to himself.
Jan cleared a corner in the barn just for carpentry. He put all his wood craft to work, often toiling far into the night to shape pretty wainscotings, doors, and trim he knew would please Elli.
The kitchen was of particular importance to Jan. The ceiling was high and the room was open and airy. He and Elli designed the cupboards, drawers, and nooks together. Across an entire wall he built shelves for Elli to display the dishes she had packed in sawdust for their journey from home.
The highlight of the kitchen would be her stove with its beautiful tiled doors and enameled handles. Someday we will order tiles with pretty designs to mount on the walls, Jan planned.
But Elli’s stove would not come over to the house until Karl and his family
joined them, for they needed a cookstove, too. Until then, Elli made do, cooking in the living room on the large heating stove they had brought with them from Omaha. The stove did not have ovens as her cookstove did, but Elli managed somehow.
Jan lined the cupboard and pantry shelves with cured red cedar. He sought out the native trees himself, up and down the river, for their wood’s aromatic and insect-repelling qualities.
He and Elli painted the kitchen walls and the shelves white. After the shelves dried, Elli—with slow, painstaking strokes—covered the shelf edges, sides, and backs with the intricate and colorful designs of Norwegian rosemaaling.
One day soon I must make a wedding chest for Kristen, Jan thought. I will make one even grander than Elli’s and line it with cedar. Elli will paint it with Kristen and teach her the art of rosemaaling. He found that he did not like to think of Kristen growing into a woman who would eventually marry and move away.
Jan watched his wife work late one evening when they both should have been in bed sleeping. He thought he had never seen a sight so beautiful: His Elli, intent but peaceful in her labor, her wheat-colored braids pinned around her head in a glowing crown, tendrils of hair escaping from her braids to curl about the nape of her neck . . . Jan’s favorite place to kiss.
He came up behind her and did kiss her . . . right there, on the back of her neck, pressing his lips against her skin and then breathing softly over it. She sighed and giggled. Jan placed kisses on the sides of her neck. He gently rubbed his chin along her jaw.
“Shall we make a new baby in our new house?” Jan whispered, nuzzling her ear.
Elli sighed again and leaned back into his arms. Jan slowly took the brush from her hand and put it in the jar with the others.
Summer passed in a blur of unrelenting work for them all. Jan, even as exhausted as he was, had never been happier. Elli and the children thrived, but Amalie struggled and was always weary.
Midway through her fourth pregnancy, Amalie had her husband and three children to cook for, constant laundry to wash—particularly with a toddler—the soddy to keep clean, and her part of the garden to maintain.
Now that the garden was producing, she and Elli were canning every day, putting up the food they would need for the winter. They had goat and cow milk to strain and butter and cheeses to make.
The work never abated.
The men worked from daylight to nightfall bringing in the harvest. The farmers of the area again made arrangements to cooperatively send their crops to Omaha.
This year four box cars sat waiting on RiverBend’s little siding. This year Jan and Karl’s three wagons were filled with their own bagged grain and corn and with crates of hogs for the feedlots. And this year their third wagon was pulled by a new team of fine bay Morgans bartered in the spring for a boar and several female hogs.
Their crops—and especially their fine hogs—would bring in the money to buy the lumber to build Karl and Amalie’s house in the spring.
As soon as the crops were sent to market, the men would plow under all the fields in preparation for winter. Then butchering would commence. The Thoresens would kill three hogs and lay up hams, bacon, sausages, and lard.
Then, as the cold weather set in, Karl and his family would give up the soddy and move to Jan and Elli’s house. The winter would pass more easily for them in the house, and Elli would be able to help Amalie. Until the ground froze, Jan and Karl would work on the foundation for Karl and Amalie’s house.
In the spring after the planting was over, just as they had done this past spring, the Thoresens would host another house raising: Friends and neighbors for miles around would come to raise the walls and roof of Karl and Amalie’s new house. It would be as important for Karl to live close to his house while he worked on it as it had been for Jan to live close to his.
It will only be seven or eight months, just until Karl and his family have their own home, Jan told himself when he thought about Karl and his family moving in with them. We have plenty of room; it will not be crowded like in the soddy.
Of course, they would pass the most important landmark in June: Jan and Karl would complete and submit the proof paperwork for their claims. Henrik Anderson and Norvald Bruntrüllsen had already said they would testify to their proof.
Then this land will truly be mine—at last! Jan lifted his head in happy thanksgiving.
~~**~~
Chapter 14
After the harvest and after the slaughtering was done, the German church had a celebration of sorts at the Bruntrüllsens. It was to be a day of fellowship, food, games, and the sharing of bounty.
Norvald asked Jan to help him organize races for the young folk, and Jan threw himself into it wholeheartedly. Norvald could not have picked a better helper, for Jan brought humor and good-natured sportsmanship into the games.
The children and young adults had not had such fun in many months. They competed in running races, three-legged races, relays, and gunnysack races. Jan and Norvald recruited some of the young men to coach the smaller boys and then compete in team races. Four teams, with members of all ages, would race.
“You young men,” Jan counseled them, “are role models for these little ones, ja? Help them along and give them good advice. Make this a fun time and see what a sparkle you put in their eyes!”
The teams went off to a great “Hurrah!” and cheers from the crowd of onlookers. The young men of one team threw their smallest teammates atop their shoulders and ran the circuit for all they were worth. The little boys riding on their shoulders bounced and laughed. Jan chuckled at their ingenuity and then laughed until he had to hold his sides.
This team was easily on its way to victory—until one of their leaders tripped. Both he and the teammate atop his shoulders tumbled to the ground, inadvertently tripping up two other runners, who caused a fourth to also stumble.
The runners got up laughing and clapping each other on the back. At the end of the race, every young man hoisted a little boy to his shoulders and carried him off the field to the shouts and cheers of the onlookers.
Tomas Veicht gave Jan his hearty approval. “These kinder were in sore need of a day of pleasure, Herr Thoresen,” he told Jan through Norvald. “And so were all of us! We have worked hard this year. And do not the Scriptures say a merry heart doeth good like a medicine? This is a good day!”
At that moment they saw Adolphe speaking to his sons, Ernst and Frank. They had been two of the young men to carry their little teammates off the field. Adolphe gestured toward the field where the games were held and shook his head, then pointed toward the barn. The boys wearily trudged off to perform some chore for Norvald.
Jan happened to glance at Tomas just then and saw sadness in the old minister’s eyes. Norvald cleared his throat uneasily.
Jan looked back to Adolphe, wondering again what caused this man to have such a sour outlook on life. He was startled to see Adolphe staring back at him, his face set in grim lines of disapproval.
After the games the women set out a feast on long tables in the yard. Everyone was to eat their fill of fried chicken, glazed ham, and roasted beef, antelope, and duck; mountains of creamy mashed potatoes and turnips running with thick gravies; flakey homemade biscuits, jams, and jellies; and vegetables of every variety.
The congregation slaked their thirst with cool ciders, sweet teas, and a fruity punch provided by Inge Bruntrüllsen. Another whole table was set aside for apple, cherry, berry, and peach pies and strudels and cakes of many flavors.
When all the women and children were seated, the men remained standing by their chairs. Tomas and the elders led the congregation in prayer.
“Lord God, we thank you for your bounty. Today we celebrate your goodness to us in this harvest. We thank you for the health of our brothers and sisters and their families. We thank you for fun and laughter, for your word teaches us
To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose
under the heaven:
A time to be born,
and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time
to pluck up that which is planted
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance . . .
And also that every man should eat and drink,
and enjoy the good of all his labour,
it is the gift of God.
“Father, we have planted and harvested, and today, Lord, we laugh and eat and drink and enjoy the good of our labor, your gifts to us.”
“Amen!” the men roared, and the people set to the food with a will.
Such a good day, Lord, Jan thought, patting Elli’s hand and smiling at those sitting near him. The young men of the church in particular grinned across the tables at Jan.
After the feast, families brought out whatever bounty they wished to share. This was a time of bartering and selling and sometimes gifting extra foodstuffs to other families in the church.
Karl and Jan brought late weaners to barter or sell. Others brought chicks and calves or late produce from their gardens.
One farmer, a bachelor, kept bees. He traded his honey for ham, bacon, sausages, chickens, and canned fruits and vegetables. Amalie and Elli were excited to barter a ham for a precious half-dozen jars of honey.
Whoever was knowledgeable of a need within the community—such as a family experiencing a hard time—shared that knowledge with Tomas and the church elders. They quietly made known the need to the church. What was given to meet those needs was set aside. Before the end of the day, Tomas or one of the elders would ask a congregation member who lived near the family in need to deliver the gifts.
When the weather turned frosty, Karl and Amalie moved from the soddy. The move was accomplished one afternoon without too much effort. Elli peeked into the kitchen. Jan had almost finished reassembling her stove! Her beautiful kitchen would at last be complete.
Elli and Amalie prepared the evening meal companionably as Karl and Jan carried in the long table and benches from the soddy. After dinner Elli unpacked and ironed a pretty blue cloth and covered the table with it. She smiled. It was ready for breakfast in the morning.
Wild Heart on the Prairie (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) Page 11
