Wild Heart on the Prairie (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2)

by Vikki Kestell

  Together Elli and Amalie got the children settled for the night. Sigrün was delighted to be sharing a room with Kristen, but Little Karl and Arnie were not so sure about sleeping in a room by themselves for the first time in their young lives!

  The women both collapsed in the warm living room, content to sip a quiet cup of tea before climbing the stairs to bed themselves. Their men were still rumbling about in the barn, but would soon seek their rest, too.

  The next morning Elli busied herself getting breakfast; Amalie packed the lunch the men and Søren would need as they went to the river to gather rock for the foundation of Karl and Amalie’s house. Jan and Karl were taking advantage of a two-day window before they planned to butcher the hogs.

  After the men finished with the milking, the families gathered for breakfast. Karl placed his family Bible on the breakfast table and automatically bowed his head and prayed aloud.

  Jan sat blinking during the prayer. When Karl finished, Jan glanced at Elli. She was serving Kristen’s plate but Jan could tell that she was avoiding his eyes.

  Lord, Jan prayed silently. Isn’t this my house? Help me to be gracious while Karl and Amalie are here. But also, help me to assert myself in a way that pleases you.

  When the meal was finished, Karl stretched his hand to his Bible. “Excuse me, Karl,” Jan said quietly. “If you please, I will read aloud this morning. Would you lead us in prayer when we finish?” He opened his Bible. “We are in Romans, chapter 2.”

  He stared as mildly as he could muster at Karl. Karl’s mouth was open and then he shut it and frowned. “I always read, Jan,” he replied, somewhat testy.

  Elli and Amalie did not look at either Karl or Jan. They knew how contentious things had been between the brothers in the not-too-distant past.

  “Ja, I know, Bror,” Jan answered, careful of his words and tone. “But as this is my home, I have been reading for my wife and children. I would like to continue doing so. Perhaps we can take turns.” He cleared his throat. “So. Let us begin.”

  He finished the chapter and closed their Bible. “Karl, would you like to pray for us?”

  Later that day Karl and Jan were loading rocks into a wagon. Søren was downstream from them a ways. Jan could sense that Karl was disturbed. He hoped Karl would say something so that the tension would be relieved, but Karl was not a man of many words. Jan wondered if he should say something.

  “Jan, I have been thinking about what happened at breakfast this morning,” Karl finally ventured.

  “Ja, I have been, also,” Jan admitted.

  Karl faced him. “You were disrespectful of me in front of my wife and children.” Now that he’d said it, his face reddened.

  Jan carefully considered his response. “Brother, I said no disrespectful words. I used no disrespectful tone. I would ask you to look at the situation from where I am, please. You sat down to eat in my home this morning, nei? Did you consider that?”

  Karl frowned more, and Jan hoped he was thinking on what he’d said. Instead, he repeated himself. “I still think you disrespected me in front of my family.”

  “Nei, brother, I did not mean to. But we spoke of this a few years ago, of you treating me as an equal, eh? Perhaps you can understand that, in my house, I might feel you disrespected me? Did you not presume to lead us without thinking? This is the very thing that has caused strife between us in the past.”

  “Truly,” Jan said, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “I do not want strife between us ever again. So let us be clear with each other when we trespass, ja? Otherwise, the anger festers.”

  Karl considered what Jan asked for several minutes without speaking. “I am not sure I agree with you, Jan. I will pray on it.”

  Jan nodded. “Thank you, Karl.”

  ~~**~~

  Chapter 15

  1871

  In February Amalie welcomed another son into the world. She and Karl named the baby Kjell after his great-grandfather on Amalie’s side.

  That same month Jan and Karl asked Henrik Anderson and Norvald Bruntrüllsen to write their letters of testimonial for Jan and Karl’s homestead claims.

  “We know you will not have time for this during planting season,” The Thoresens told them. “If you have already written them, we will mail them to the land office in Fremont at the right time.”

  “We are glad for you,” Norvald said the next Sunday as he handed his letters to Jan and Karl. “You have worked hard and have much to show for it!” He and Henrik shook Jan and Karl’s hands, grinning with them.

  Two days later, Henrik walked to their house through a bitter wind. Elli let him in the kitchen door, and he went directly to the stove to warm himself, greeting Amalie and Elli as he shivered in front of the stove’s open door.

  “Ach. I bring sad news,” he told them. “Will you call Karl and Jan?” Elli immediately rang the bell to call them from the barn. Jan and Karl shook Henrik’s hand and waited for what he had to tell them.

  Henrik sighed. “I have heard from Norvald. Tomas passed away in his sleep last night.” He choked a little as told them. “Norvald heard it from Rikkert. Adolphe sent for the elders of the church to come to Tomas’ house to plan the burial.”

  Silence reigned in the kitchen as they digested his news. While Elli served coffee, the adults sat at the table and mourned Tomas’ passing.

  “Poor Heidi! She will be so grief-stricken.” Elli’s tears for Heidi filled her eyes and ran down her face. “They had an exemplary Christian marriage. I do not know what she will do now.”

  “Adolphe will take over Tomas’ fields,” Karl stated, matter-of-factly. “He and I have talked of this.”

  “That is good,” Jan murmured. “Heidi will not be alone in her grief.” But he and Elli exchanged concerned glances.

  At the service Jan was surprised to see the three elders wearing new suits as dark and sober as Adolphe’s. “In respect for Tomas,” Jan decided.

  To be sure, the mourning for the gentle lay minister was deep and heartfelt. Heidi was also dressed all in black, her head covered in a thick veil. Jan and Elli had never seen the sweet, gap-toothed old woman as solemn and quiet as she was that day.

  The women of the church had baked and cooked for the Veichts and for the meal after the service. Unfortunately, the weather was too bitterly cold to eat out-of-doors and the number of funeral attendees greater than what the meeting room could accommodate.

  The men of the church began setting up tables in the barn for the meal afterwards. Jan and Karl hurried to help so that the barn would be ready when the service ended.

  As they were hauling tables, Jan noticed Ernst and Frank laboring under a tree in the far corner of the yard. One glance was all Jan needed to see that they were struggling to dig their grandfather’s grave in the frozen earth.

  Jan nudged Karl and tipped his head toward the young men. “They need our help, Bror. Let us find some picks or pry bars and help them, ja? This is too much for them.”

  Jan was surprised that digging the grave had been put off so long and that the two boys were doing it alone. Where is Adolphe? he wondered. Why is he not helping to dig his father’s grave?

  Jan found some additional tools hanging in Tomas’ barn. He and Karl walked over to where Ernst and Frank were struggling.

  “Let us help you,” Jan said quietly. He noted the unshed tears in the boys’ eyes and their gratitude. The two Thoresen men totaled at least five of Tomas’ grandsons in height and weight.

  Karl and Jan drove the picks into the frozen earth again and again, gradually loosening the icy soil. When they moved back, Ernst and Frank stepped in with shovels to dig out the hard clods of dirt.

  Before long, several other men came to help, spelling Jan and Karl with the picks and Ernst and Frank with the shovels. It was past time for the service to start and the grave was not yet ready.

  More men brought their fresh energy to the task. Jan and Karl, sweating in the bitter air, herded Ernst and Frank into the house. �
�We should not be outside in the freezing wind covered in sweat,” Jan said. They climbed the steps to the house, hoping to get close to the fire and dry off quickly.

  “What is this?” Adolphe Veicht frowned at his sons and at Jan. “Herr Thoresen. Have you been interfering between me and my sons?”

  Jan did not know what Adolphe said, but he knew the man was angry with him. Not angry with Karl—who looked between Adolphe and Jan, puzzled—but angry with him.

  Jan looked about for Søren and called him to his side. “Sønn, tell Minister Veicht in German that others stepped in to help dig the grave. We were sweating and needed to come inside out of the cold.”

  Søren, as carefully as his nervous thirteen-year-old voice could muster, passed the message. Veicht stared at Søren with the same disapproval he regularly leveled at Jan.

  “Tell your father that I gave instructions to Ernst and Frank to dig the grave—not to him. Tell him that in the future, he should mind his own affairs.”

  Søren gaped. He was not about to pass such words to his father!

  “Go on, boy. Tell him,” Adolphe insisted.

  With his eyes glued to the floor, Søren mumbled Adolphe’s message. Jan had already figured out the gist of it, and had prepared himself.

  “Thank you, Søren. You are a good boy,” Jan said softly. “Do not let this bother you, eh? Please tell Herr Veicht that I apologize.”

  Søren reddened then took a deep breath and repeated, “My father apologizes, Herr Veicht.”

  Veicht sniffed and nodded. He turned to his sons. “Clean yourselves up and take your seats for the service.” The two boys nodded mutely and turned away to do as told.

  The service was a solemn, cold affair, not representative of Tomas or his ministry. The three elders—Rikkert, Klaus, and Gunnar—read Scripture passages as directed by Adolphe.

  Adolphe preached the message and closed the service saying, “With my father’s passing, the mantle of leadership of this congregation has fallen to me. We will mourn him, but not as the world does. Instead, we will carry on our duties as usual.”

  He motioned to the pallbearers to carry Tomas’ casket out to the grave, but Jan could not move. Adolphe’s words had dropped like a stone in Jan’s heart.

  He looked at the elders after Adolphe’s announcement. Klaus and Gunnar nodded almost imperceptibly, but Rikkert stared at his feet, a small frown on his face.

  How did this happen? Jan wondered. Isn’t the lay minister elected by the congregation?

  He looked around and saw others as stunned as he—but Tomas’ burial was not the time or place to challenge this fait accompli. He glanced at Karl and was dismayed to see his brother nodding in approval.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur for Jan. He watched as some of the men of the church shook Adolphe’s hand, publicly acknowledging his rise to the leadership of the church. Others, like Norvald, sent troubled glances Jan’s way but said nothing to disrupt the reverence of Tomas’ memorial service and burial.

  The wind howled about the house, but here in the kitchen after supper it was warm, even if the icy fingers of the wind did occasionally find their way through cracks around the doors or windows.

  “Elli, put the boys to bed,” Karl said, not looking up from the Norwegian language newspaper he was reading.

  Jan looked up. Amalie was exhausted by a day of managing her work and now four children. So too, was Elli, who had taken on many of Amalie’s responsibilities. She did not say that she minded, but Jan frowned.

  He did not like Karl ordering Elli about. Sighing, he prayed for patience and kept his thoughts to himself.

  In the Sundays following Tomas’ funeral, Jan realized how deeply their church was changing under Adolphe’s leadership. Rikkert, Klaus, and Gunnar now always wore their dark, somber suits to church. Their wives, too, assumed a plainer dress.

  Elli commented on her friend Duna, Rikkert’s wife. “She does not much like dressing for a funeral all the time,” Elli mentioned on the way home. “She says Adolphe requires the elders and their wives and children to set an example.”

  “As they should, Elli,” Karl said sharply. “And you should be careful with your tongue, Søster! It is disrespectful to call him Adolphe. He is Minister Veicht, and you should not be repeating idle gossip.”

  Elli’s mouth fell open and her eyes reflected the hurt Karl’s words inflicted. Jan pulled the team to a halt by the side of the road and jumped down. “Out,” he shouted to Karl. “We will talk—right here and now.”

  Karl, his face flushed with anger, jumped from the wagon, too. Jan commanded, “Søren, take the reins. Drive on. We will walk from here.”

  Søren obeyed, but his eyes were scared. Amalie stared at her hands, saying nothing; Elli sent a silent plea to her husband to be calm.

  Jan waited until the wagon passed beyond their sight, then he said to Karl, “Bror, this must stop. You are not to speak to my wife so.”

  “You do not correct your wife,” Karl snarled, “so someone must do it! I will not have my children listen to gossip or criticism of our minister!”

  “It is not gossip to wonder about the many changes happening in our church—happening without the consent of the people!” Jan shot back. “Who made Adolphe our minister? Eh? It is supposed to be decided by the church’s vote! Instead, he assumed this role. And I do not like it, Karl. I do not like what our church is becoming.”

  Karl studied Jan, his face set in hard lines. “Do you wish me to convey your feelings to Minister Veicht?”

  “I do not need you to voice my concerns to Minister Veicht,” Jan snapped, his anger growing. “If I want him to know them, I will tell him myself! But know this, Karl: It is not your place to correct my wife or order her about. It must stop now. I will not speak to you of it again.”

  Jan clenched and unclenched his hands, willing himself to keep them at his side, because at this moment, they threatened to pummel his brother within an inch of his life.

  Karl’s eyes narrowed. “So. Elli is complaining about helping Amalie, is that it?”

  “Nei, Karl. She has said not a word. She would not! She loves Amalie. I am the one complaining—not that she is helping with the barn, but that you are ordering her to do so as if she were a servant. This is the problem, Karl—that you treat her as an underling, a servant, in her own home!”

  Karl looked across the fields and thought for a long moment. Jan could still see his jaw working.

  “It will be good for us to get our house built,” he finally ground out. “Then we can be out from under your feet.”

  “Do you hear yourself, Karl? It is not a good feeling, is it? To feel ‘under someone’s feet’?” Jan blew out his breath in exasperation. “I do not wish you to feel this way! Isn’t it better to do as the Scripture says: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you? Can’t we live together in kindness and agree that you will take care of your family and I will take care of mine, eh?”

  Karl looked down. “I don’t think I’ve heard you quote a whole passage of Skriften before.” When he looked up, his eyes were softer, less angry.

  Jan laughed ruefully. “I must study to keep ahead of my barn. They ask so many questions. Wait until your children are so old!”

  The tension broken, Karl chuckled a little, too, and then said quietly, “It must be hard to see Kristen growing into a little woman. Sometimes she says such grownup, womanly things! And Sigrün is only two years behind her . . .”

  “Ja. And Søren! He is already thirteen and doing a man’s work. In a few years Little Karl and Arnie will be following you out to the fields. Time is flying by so quickly.”

  The two brothers looked at each other.

  “I am sorry, Jan,” Karl said quietly. “I will tell Elli I am sorry, too.”

  “Thank you, Karl. That would be good. Then it will be all right.”

  “Do you really feel that way about Adolphe?” Karl asked, his
brow furrowed. “That you don’t like what is happening in our church?”

  Jan took a deep breath, hoping to answer Karl’s question well. “I am worried, Karl. Tomas taught us from Jesus’ messages, ja? He spoke the deeper meanings of the Skriften—he spoke to our hearts and caused us to grow in our love of God . . .”

  Karl continued to frown. “And Adolphe?”

  For a time Jan was quiet. Lord, help me to say this right, eh?

  “I think Adolphe is too concerned with what Jesus already took care of, eh? We cannot make ourselves more holy by the way we dress, can we?” Jan answered carefully.

  Jan thought a moment longer. “And Jesus said, the tree is known by its fruit. I confess I do not like the fruit I am seeing—how he treats his sønns? How he treats Heidi? Do you see how she no longer smiles? And making people change the way they dress? This is not good fruit.”

  He sighed. “I think that time will tell, Karl. Time will tell.”

  Karl nodded. “I confess I see a few . . . things I do not like. But Adolphe has always been so friendly to me. I . . . I am not sure.”

  “So we should search the Skriften, pray, and wait on the Lord, eh?” Jan suggested. “Pray about everything. You, me, our families, our church?”

  Right there, in the ice-coated ruts of the dirt track leading to their farm, Jan and Karl prayed together. When they arrived home an hour later, chilled and famished, they were in good spirits. Amalie and Elli exchanged relieved glances.

  Then Karl, with everyone gathered around said, “Søster Elli, I ask your forgiveness. It is not my part to speak correction to you. I should not have done so. I am sorry.”

  Elli cocked her head to the side a little, surprised and touched. “Brother Karl, I forgive you from my heart. Thank you.”

  Søren looked at the adults, relieved but a bit apprehensive. Jan hugged him around the shoulders and whispered, “Everyone makes mistakes, Sønn, including me. It is what we do with them that tells the world if we are Christian men, ja? Your Onkel Karl is a man of God, you can depend on it.”