A Breath of Hope

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A Breath of Hope Page 15

by Lauraine Snelling


  18

  The house looked smaller than what Nilda had pictured in her mind. It looked teeny compared to the Schoenleber home. But the Schoenleber mansion had felt like a museum, not a home, empty of family. And that made all the difference.

  She glanced at Ivar to see if he was surprised too. Nothing showed on his face; usually she could figure out what he was thinking, but not now. The barn sat some ways back from the house with a windmill and well house in between. A man was disking with a team in a field off to the west. The field looked to be several acres in size.

  An explosion from near the wood line sent debris into the air and shocked their ears.

  Signe explained, “Rune and Bjorn are dynamiting stumps, the quickest way to get them out.”

  “That’s Onkel Einar out with the team then?” Nilda asked.

  “Ja, he’s getting the field ready to plant corn. Rune plowed and disked the garden the other day. We’re making it bigger this year—more potatoes and sweet corn, especially.”

  “Where are Knute and Leif?”

  “School won’t be out for another week. They get home around four and usually start chores. They take care of the livestock and the chickens.”

  Ivar pointed ahead. “Look at the size of those pines. Was it still solid woods when Onkel Einar bought this land?”

  “No, the family that homesteaded it had already cleared these front acres. He built the buildings and almost doubled the pasture land. We hay a good part of that too.”

  “Two cows out there?” Ivar asked, squinting toward the pasture.

  Signe nodded. “Ja, and a steer from last year. The heifer had her calf about a month ago, so it is still in the barn. The yearling must be lying down. Leif takes care of the chickens, and Knute the pigs. Two sows and two gilts will be farrowing. We hope to trade a couple of weaner pigs for a young boar.” She pointed to the front door of the house with its stoop entry. “We’ll bring your trunks in there to the parlor. Probably the crate will have to be stored in the shop for now.”

  “So what first?” Nilda asked.

  “We’ll tie Rosie up by the back door until someone comes to help unload. Come and meet Tante Gerd.”

  “And Kirstin.” Nilda nudged Signe. “She’s the important one.” She grinned at Ivar. “Here we go,” she whispered. Here we go.

  The kitchen door stood open, and through the screen door they could hear a baby giggling and a woman talking with her.

  Nilda asked, “Is she always that happy?”

  “Pretty much. Unless she’s hungry, and then cover your ears.” Signe held open the screen door. “We’re here,” she announced.

  Gerd, with Kirstin on her hip, greeted them. “Welcome. Come in, come in. I saved dinner for you.”

  Signe made the introductions. “Nilda and Ivar, meet Tante Gerd and, of course, our Kirstin.”

  Gerd nodded. “Glad you are here safely. Welcome to Minnesota. Do you want to speak Norwegian or English?”

  Nilda exchanged a look with Ivar. He nodded. “Norwegian is far easier yet. Takk.”

  So this is the Gerd I’ve heard so much about. She’s smaller than I thought and looks far older than Mor said she was. Must be from being so ill. Nilda smiled. “Takk. I heard that you have been knitting for everyone. Mor said she remembered how you love to knit. We brought some yarn for you.”

  Gerd’s eyes lit up. “Leif and I have been wanting to get some sheep. Maybe soon we can make our own yarn.”

  Nilda hid a smile. Gerd would be pleased when she saw what Nilda and Ivar had brought with them in the crate.

  Knute and Leif came slamming into the house.

  “Onkel Ivar, you finally got here!” Knute grinned up at him.

  “You’ve grown a foot since I saw you,” Ivar said.

  Knute looked down. “No, I only have two, same as always.”

  Ivar rolled his eyes and knocked Knute’s hat off, ruffling his hair. “And you too, Leif. My goodness, I hardly recognize you.”

  Leif stood for the obligatory hair ruffling. “Guess what! You can help us with the chores.”

  “Leif, Knute, why are you home so early?” Signe’s eyebrows flattened out. “Did you skip school?”

  “Nei, we told Mr. Jahnson our family from Norway had arrived on the train, and he said since we had our work done, we could leave early.”

  Signe shook her head. “All right. Now, regarding chores. Give them one night to settle in. Why don’t you two get the supplies for the house out of the cart and then drive around to the front to unload the trunks?”

  Ivar followed Leif and Knute out the back door. Both boys stared at the cart. “You brought a lot of stuff,” Knute said.

  “Wait until you see,” Ivar assured them.

  Leif dragged a bag of oats off of the wagon. “Good thing we got oats again. Onkel Einar bagged up most of what was left to seed the field.”

  Knute set bags and brown-wrapped packages on the kitchen table. “Come on, Leif. There is more.”

  Out at the cart, Ivar pointed. “Leif, you take those bags in, and Knute and I will meet you at the front door. I think we can haul these trunks inside.”

  In minutes they had the trunks in the parlor and were headed for the shop to leave the crate.

  “What’s in the crate?” Leif asked.

  Ivar grinned. “I’m not telling until we open it.”

  Leif pointed to the long building on the right. “The shop started out as a machine shed, but Far got Onkel Einar to let him close part of it in for the winter so we could work there. Onkel Einar had the sharpening wheel in that three-sided building. Far said he couldn’t believe Onkel Einar sharpened axes and saws in there during the winter. He made sure a stove could heat it. We added more later.”

  “So this is where Rune is making skis?”

  “Ja, and furniture, and Onkel Einar works on the machinery and keeping the saws and axes sharp.” Leif ran to open the door while Knute and Ivar wrestled the crate off the cart and lugged it inside.

  “Looks like a good place to work. That stove must have really made a difference.”

  “Far made sure. There are the skis over there. We ran out of time to finish them this year. Did you know skis take a long time to make?”

  “Ja, that’s why not many people make them.”

  They closed the door, and Leif drove the wagon to the barn. Ivar and Knute carried in the sacks of oats, and Leif unhitched Rosie and lifted off the harness.

  “I can’t reach the team yet,” Leif explained, “but Rosie is just enough smaller. She’s a good horse. Would you believe she is twenty years old? She works hard too.” He stroked the old mare’s shoulder. “We better put her in the corral for now so she can’t drink.”

  The boys introduced Ivar to the rest of the animals, showed him the well house and the smoke house, and returned to the house to leap up the back porch.

  “You ever set dynamite?” Knute asked.

  “Nei. No need of it in Norway.”

  “Far will teach you. Bjorn really likes blowing up stumps. We bring the bigger chunks of stumps up to the house and burn the rest. Wait until you see a big tree crash.” Knute held the door open.

  “Sit down, sit down.” Gerd pointed to a chair. “We did not wait for you, as you can see.” She retrieved the last of the dishes from the warming oven and set them by Ivar’s plate. “Help yourself.” She shook her head at the boys. “You can have the leftover corn bread and glasses of milk.” She handed them each a plate and set two glasses on the table. “Knute, did you check your snares today?”

  “Not yet,” he said around a mouthful of corn bread. “But I will right away. You want to come with me, Onkel Ivar?”

  “Ja. Might we have fried rabbit for supper?”

  “If there are two in the snares. Must be about time to move them farther out again. Knute tries to keep the rabbits from grazing on the garden. We need a dog to chase them away.” Leif drained his milk glass and wiped his milk mustache off with the back of his hand, earni
ng a frown from Signe. “I saw an ad for puppies on the wall at the store.”

  “If there were no rabbits around, what would we eat?” Signe asked.

  Gerd shook her head. “There are always plenty of rabbits around. Bjorn has brought in a couple deer too and a goose last fall. This year the smokehouse was going most of the time with pork and venison.”

  “Do you like to go fishing?” Knute asked Ivar.

  “Ja, I do. But not out on a fishing boat on the North Sea.”

  “You did that?” Both boys wore round eyes.

  Knute said, “I went with the Reverend Skarstead and the Bergens one Sunday, but the fish weren’t biting much yet. There was still ice on the lake.”

  “How far away?”

  “A mile or so to the west. Onkel Einar says there are lakes all around us, but he says fishing is a waste of time.”

  Nilda and Ivar swapped raised eyebrows. “There aren’t a lot of lake or stream fish left near our home in Norway,” he said. “Fried fish sounds almost as good as fried rabbit.”

  Bjorn and Rune greeted the others from the door.

  “You boys better get some wood in that box,” Rune said as he crossed the kitchen to greet his younger sister and brother. He smiled. “I was beginning to think you’d never get here.”

  “He’s as bad as the boys at waiting.” Signe swayed from side to side with Kirstin, who waved her arms at her far.

  “Who is this man with you?” Nilda asked, grinning at Bjorn. “Is there something in the air here that turns a boy into a man in a year?”

  “Not in the air, but with an axe and a crosscut saw.” Bjorn’s neck was turning red, moving up to his cheeks.

  “Ah, but I can still make you blush.” Nilda gave him a hug in spite of his embarrassment. “So you chose to work in the woods rather than finish school?”

  “Ja, but Far and Mor were not happy about it. Onkel Einar has taught me a lot.”

  “Well, good.” Ivar grinned. “Now he can teach me.”

  Knute and Leif each dumped an armload in the woodbox and went back out for more. Leif made sure the door did not slam with a grin at Tante Gerd.

  “That coffee still hot?” Rune asked.

  Gerd pulled the pot over on the stove. “In a minute. I’ll make more for supper.”

  Rune sat down at the table with the others. “What are we having for supper?”

  “Fried rabbit if the snares are full, otherwise the last of the ham.” Gerd fetched a cup from the cupboard.

  “Oh.” Knute looked at Onkel Ivar. “You want to come?”

  He glanced at Rune and shrugged, then followed Knute out the door.

  Listening to the banter between the men, Nilda’s mind flashed back to Tilly, one of her girlfriends in school, who had always said that men were all alike, only wanting one thing. That was how she described the kind of boy Dreng was. But she was so wrong. She thought of Petter, from the ship. He was about Dreng’s age, but he was so pleasant, and mature, and clever. And most of all, Nilda had never once felt worried or uncomfortable in his presence. So all men were not like that. In fact, nearly all the men Nilda had met were polite and . . . well, safe.

  Rune and Bjorn were telling her about getting their logs hauled to the railroad. Imagine cutting enough trees to pay for building a house! And now they were talking about a man named Oskar, whom Rune had hired to help haul logs. Even this Oskar, apparently widowed recently, sounded like a perfectly decent fellow.

  Was all of northern Minnesota populated by eligible, polite, interesting young men? Deep inside, Nilda laughed at herself. Silly girl! But I do want to be married and have a family, especially here in Amerika.

  She answered Rune’s questions about home while he and Bjorn drank their coffee. Gerd poured the last of it into their cups, and Signe took the pot to the sink to wash and fill it with cold water. She added ground coffee, using up the last of that tin.

  “I’ll grind more,” Nilda said. “Just show me where things are.”

  Signe shook her head. “Today, at least, you should still be a guest.”

  “I have been lazing around since we left home.”

  Her sister-in-law laughed. “All right. The coffee beans are in a tin up on the third pantry shelf on the right. And the grinder is next to it. I grind quite a bit at a time, as we go through it so fast.”

  “But it is real coffee, not mixed with roasted grain to make it go further?”

  “Ja, real coffee.”

  “No wonder it was so good.”

  When Ivar and the two boys returned with three rabbits, Signe nodded. “One in every snare?”

  “Nei, I set four snares this time. One is only half grown.” Knute dug a knife out of the drawer and tested the sharpness with a finger. Without saying another word, he dug out the whetstone, spit on it, and set to sharpening.

  Ivar looked at his brother, nodding while his eyes crinkled. “You got two knives? We can get done faster.”

  Later, with the three rabbit carcasses in cold salt water, Rune, Bjorn, and Ivar returned to blowing stumps, while Knute and Leif left to start chores. Signe nursed the baby and put her down to sleep, all the while she and Nilda talked. Nilda had brought out her knitting, and Gerd was nodding over hers.

  “If you would like to take a nap, Tante Gerd, now would be a good time.” Signe paused in setting out the ingredients for sour cream cookies. “I’m going to show Nilda the cellar and the well house, and Kirstin should sleep for a while.”

  Gerd heaved a sigh. “Ja, I s’pose so. I keep hoping that one of these days I’ll be able to work through the day like I used to.”

  “True, but look how much better you are doing.”

  “Ja, thanks to you.” Shaking her head, Gerd looked at Nilda. “Only by the grace of God and General Signe. I will take you up on the nap. Make yourself at home.” Gerd shut the bedroom door behind her.

  Since Kirstin was sleeping, Signe showed off the well house and smokehouse, and they ended the small tour in the cellar. “We are down to rationing jars of canned goods. We ran out of jams and jellies a month or so ago, and you can see what we have left of the pickles. Good thing I canned small potatoes, because the fresh ones were looking pretty sad at the end. I wanted to keep some for seed, but Mrs. Benson assured me they would have seed potatoes at the store. That’s what is in that basket. I’m going to plant a lot more this year.”

  “Is this soil deep enough for potatoes?”

  “We go down as far as we can, then heap compost over the hills to keep them from getting sunburned. Learning to garden here is different than at home.”

  Back in the kitchen, with the smell of coffee filling the room, Signe poured two cups and moved a cookie plate within reach. They’d just sat down when Kirstin made her first waking noises. She squeaked and squirmed, talked to her fingers a bit, and when her voice took on an insistent note, Signe retrieved her from her bed and brought her to the table. “You ready to go to your tante Nilda now?” Signe held Kirstin up and kissed her cheek.

  Nilda held up her arms while Kirstin studied her, then leaned closer to her mor.

  “Not yet, eh, little one?” Signe murmured gently. “But soon. Let me nurse her, and then we can cut up the rabbits.”

  “I will cut up the meat while you nurse her, and then we can brown it and let it finish in the oven?”

  “I made noodles and dried them a few weeks ago, so we can have those with gravy and the canned corn we brought up and biscuits.”

  “And cookies.” Nilda took another off the plate.

  Supper was ready to be put on the table as the sun sank toward the horizon. The men and boys all came in together, Ivar making the boys laugh and Rune enjoying the banter. The man who must be Einar wore a scowl.

  Rune motioned to Nilda. “Onkel Einar, I’d like you to meet my sister, Nilda Carlson.”

  “’Bout time you got here.”

  Nilda glanced at Rune and saw that Signe and Gerd were both observing the floor. Laughter left the room. “Takk for
purchasing my ticket so I could come to Amerika. Mor sends her greetings.”

  Einar grunted and made his way around the table to his chair.

  The others washed their hands and took their places while Signe and Nilda set the serving platter and bowls on the table.

  “Ivar, you sit over there between Leif and Knute.” Rune waited for them all to be seated. “Let’s say our grace together tonight. I Jesu navn gär vi til bords. . . .”

  One by one, the others joined in and finished with the amen.

  Einar filled his plate and set to shoveling in the food as if he’d not eaten in a week.

  Nilda sat next to Signe. Forks scraping on plates, someone asking for more biscuits, another asking for the salt. Einar filled his plate again, ate, mopped the plate with a biscuit half, pushed back his chair and, setting his hat on his head, strode out the door.

  Rune and the boys settled back in their chairs, and a sigh of relief floated to the ceiling.

  “Can I have more milk?” Leif asked.

  Knute passed the pitcher. “Mor, do we have to go to school tomorrow?”

  Signe gave him a look. “Ja, you do.”

  “I told you.” Leif made a face at Knute, who shielded himself behind Ivar.

  Signe retrieved Kirstin from the rocking chair where she’d been tied in and settled her on her lap. She mashed a noodle in the gravy and spooned a bit into the baby’s mouth. Kirstin gummed the strange substance around, then pushed it out to run down her chin.

  Signe wiped off her face. “You’re just not excited about solid food yet, are you?” She looked across the table. “If you are done eating, pass your plates around, and we’ll get the cookies.”

  Gerd brought a plate piled high with cookies from the pantry and passed them around.

  Nilda laid a hand on Signe’s shoulder. “I’ll get the coffee.”

  “Takk.”

  “Can we have coffee too?” Knute asked.

  Ivar nudged him. “You’re too young to drink coffee.”

  “Not the way Mor makes it.”

  “Like our mor used to?” Ivar looked at Signe, who nodded. “All right, we’ll all have coffee and cookies and toast our new life in Amerika.” He watched until everyone had their drink and cookie in hand, then he raised his cup over his head. “God bless our life here in Minnesota of Amerika. Skål.”

 

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