A Breath of Hope

by Lauraine Snelling

  Gerd brought the chair from the window closer and pulled open the top drawer. Tossing the holey socks, handkerchiefs, and a stocking hat she had knit for Einar years ago in a pile by the door, she set a small box and some papers on top of the dresser, often shaking her head. A deerskin pouch that jingled joined the box. Long johns, drawers, and another pair of pants, along with three folded shirts were added to the pile. She placed her clean underthings on the chair and heaved a sigh, then moved to the next drawer.

  “Let me carry those out.” Nilda lifted a drawer in each hand.

  As she headed out of the room, Gerd yelped. “Wait!”

  “What?”

  Eyes wide, Gerd pointed to the bottom of one of the drawers. “I never saw that before.”

  “What is it?” Nilda bent over and dug at the paper glued to the wood. When it came away, she handed it to Gerd.

  Gerd held the sheet of paper in her hand for a moment. “I think it is time for coffee. While it heats, we will look through all that.” She nodded to the collection on top of the dresser, then scooped it all into her apron and dumped it on the kitchen table.

  Nilda hauled the drawers to the porch while Signe wrapped a cloth around the broom and dusted the ceiling and walls, driving out a couple of spiders in the process.

  “We need to do the wash tomorrow.” Nilda pumped herself a glass of water and leaned against the sink counter to drink it. “And take what’s left of the stew and milk to the well house.”

  “After we go through this.” Gerd shoved wood into the stove and opened the damper on the chimney so the fire would heat the coffee more quickly.

  Baby babbling announced that Kirstin had awakened. Instead of getting demanding, she waved her feet in the air, trying to catch them with pudgy hands.

  When they were seated, coffee and cookies in front of them, Gerd sucked in a deep breath and reached for the box first. “Einar kept his cash in here and in the pouch.” Opening the lid, she lifted out a pile of paper money and handed it to Signe. “You count that, please, and Nilda, the pouch of coins.” At their nods, she lifted out folded papers, envelopes, and a small leather bound ledger. She sorted through the papers, making a pile of letters, one of bills, and another of receipts.

  “One hundred and two dollars,” Signe reported.

  “Twelve dollars in change plus four silver dollars, for sixteen dollars and forty-five cents,” Nilda added.

  Gerd nodded. “This is what we buy groceries and other supplies with until we sell the trees next spring.”

  “Can trees be sold in the fall?” Signe asked.

  “Ja, but it is far better to haul them in the winter while the ground is frozen and skids can be used in the snow.”

  “Are there any other bills to pay?”

  Gerd flipped through another stack. “These are all paid for now. But we will get cash for selling weaner pigs now, and in the fall, butchered hogs.”

  “And logs if we need to.”

  “Ja. But what we do need, we can put on the account at Benson’s. Your butter and eggs help with that bill, you know.” Gerd eyed the packet that had been glued to the bottom of the drawer. “The old fox.”

  “Any idea what is in it?” Signe pushed the plate of cookies nearer to Gerd. The baby noises were changing from happy to hungry. “I better see to little miss over there before she turns louder.”

  Bending over the baby bed, Signe received a grin that crinkled baby eyes and moisted her own. “You sure are having fun with those toesies.” She took hold of one little foot and moved it in a circle. Kirstin kicked with the other and waved her hands. A stream of definite sounds made it seem like she was carrying on a conversation. Signe picked up her daughter, and the two of them chattered back and forth as she changed the diaper and settled into the rocker to nurse her. “Well, look at that. Two teeth. Where did you find those? I tell you, you better be careful with those teeth, or your mor will take away the fountain here.”

  With Kirstin settled, Signe laid her head back on the chair. How could so much happen in so little time? She thought of something her mor said often. “Life can change in the blink of an eye, and most times we have no control over it.” It certainly had.

  “Well, I’ll be. . . .”

  Gerd’s whisper snapped Signe’s eyes open again. “What?”

  Gerd and Nilda were staring at each other. “There’s five hundred dollars here. I never knew he had that. It must be from the sale of logs, but why hide it like this?”

  “How long do you think it has been there?” Nilda pointed at the faded paper.

  Gerd fanned the money out in her hand. “I have no idea. But I know one thing. This could pay off what you owe on your house.”

  Signe smiled while shaking her head. “Rune will never go for that.”

  “There are always ways to get around stubborn.” Gerd pushed her chair back from the table and closed the box lid with all the money and papers inside. “Let’s get that bedroom done so we can start supper. Not that we have to cook much, thanks to Mrs. Benson.”

  With that, Gerd took a pan of hot, soapy water out onto the porch to wash the drawers.

  Nilda and Signe swept the floor and wiped down the inside and outside of the chest of drawers. “Let’s move it over so we can sweep and scrub this part of the floor too.” Together they hefted the dresser and moved it several feet along the wall. Signe swept while Nilda went for a bucket of hot soapy water to scrub the floor.

  “Gerd, I think you better come here,” Signe called.

  “Just a minute, nearly done.”

  “Okay, but . . .”

  Nilda set the bucket, brush, and rags on the floor. “What is that?”

  “Maybe nothing, but I have a sneaky notion. What if . . . ?”

  Gerd came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “Now what?”

  Signe pointed to a short floor board that had warped enough to raise on one end. “You ever noticed that before?”

  “No. We’d better get it nailed down.”

  Signe knelt and tried to lift the board with her fingertips. “Get me a knife, please.” Nilda slapped one into her hand. After prying up the board, Signe stared down into the dark hole. “There is a box down here, a metal box.” She looked up at Gerd. “It seems Einar left another surprise for you.”

  Chapter

  32

  Do you have any idea where the key might be?” Nilda asked after they set the metal box on the kitchen table.

  Gerd fingered the padlock, shaking her head. “I have no idea, but a saw will take care of that.”

  “Or some really strong cutters. But where would we find those?” Nilda asked.

  “Only in the machine shed. Seems to me this might be worth calling Rune for help,” Signe said.

  Gerd shook her head. “It has waited this long. Another few hours won’t make any difference. I’ve been thinking . . . it seems like the contract would have been with those other papers.”

  “The contract?”

  “From when we bought this place. Einar always kept his papers in that drawer, not that we have very many.” She shook her head again. “Strange. I wonder where that could have gone.”

  They finished scrubbing the bedroom floor, and when it had dried, they put the bedroom back to rights. Signe could tell that Gerd was worrying over the whereabouts of the contract.

  “Perhaps the contract is in that metal box. That might make sense.”

  “Perhaps.” Gerd rested her hands on her hips as she looked around the room. “Takk for all your help. Such a difference.”

  “A rug by your bed would look nice and feel good on your feet in the morning,” Signe suggested.

  Gerd shrugged. “I braided a rag rug one time. I think Einar burned it after he tripped over it.” She spoke without rancor. “Perhaps I shall buy some pretty material to make new curtains, brighten it up some. If you like, we could move Kirstin’s bed in here.”

  “Rune said one of these days he is going to make another rocker. Just
think, you might have one too after we move into the new house.”

  Gerd nodded and sighed. “I will miss my little one.” She straightened. “But Nilda and Ivar will still be here. That is a good thing.”

  “We will be here as usual.” Signe smiled at Gerd. “And we aren’t far away.”

  Leif and Knute leaped up onto the porch steps and burst into the kitchen. “Time to start chores. You need anything from the well house?”

  “That’s all right, I’ll get it,” Signe told them. “I need to skim pans anyway.”

  The sun was floating toward the horizon when she stepped out of the well house with the crock of buttermilk in her arm. She paused to look across the western fields and let the hint of evening breeze kiss her cheeks. Lord God, such beauty, even if there are no mountains. Smiling to herself, she strode back to the house, pausing when she heard a horse and buggy coming down the lane.

  “Who can that be?” Gerd asked from the chair on the porch, where she sat with the baby sleeping in her arms.

  “Reverend Skarstead, I think.” Signe waved and carried the crock into the house to set on the counter. On her way out, she added, “I think we’ll make dumplings to go with the stew for supper. Perhaps he would like to join us.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Carlson,” Reverend Skarstead called. “I hope you have time for a visitor.”

  Signe smiled. “For you, always. Rune and the boys are down at the new house.”

  “I figured. How about I head on down there to see how the house is going? Then we can talk?”

  “Of course. We will set you a place at the table.”

  “You needn’t—”

  “Ja, we do.”

  When the men and boys trooped through the door a while later, supper was ready to dish up.

  “That will be, or rather, is becoming some house,” Reverend Skarstead said with a nod to the ladies. “We will have to have a real celebration when you move over there.” He dried his hands and stopped next to Gerd. “Thank you for having me in your home.”

  “I am the one to be thanking you.” She wiped her hand on her apron and held it out. “The order to stay off this land was buried with Einar, along with all the anger and hate. Please, make yourself at home here with us.”

  “I hope this means you will join your family in church?”

  “Ja, I will.”

  Signe and Nilda smiled at each other with matching sighs.

  When everyone was seated, Rune asked the reverend to say the blessing.

  Skarstead smiled around the table. “That is my privilege. Takk. Thank you, Lord, for this family, this home, this food. We thank you for the new house and pray your grace and mercy upon us all. In Christ’s name, amen.”

  As Signe poured the coffee, she could not stop smiling. To think that Reverend Skarstead was having supper with them. Was it he who brought this sense of peace to the house or . . . ? Just be thankful, she told herself.

  “I know it is getting late, but before you go, could I please ask you a couple of questions?” Rune asked.

  “Of course?”

  “I—we are curious as to what happened all those years ago to cause the hate and animosity.”

  Skarstead nodded. “Actually, the Bensons know more details than I do, but . . .” He looked to Gerd. “May I continue, Mrs. Strand?”

  Gerd nodded.

  “Please add anything you want.” He cleared his throat. “When Einar lived in Blackduck, he was looking for a place in this area to purchase. When Joe Benson heard that, he brought Einar here, where a cousin of his had died and his widow wanted to return to Norway with her children. Einar offered to purchase this land with tickets to return to Norway as the down payment. I—I’m not sure what the exact amount and stipulations were, but he agreed to pay the remainder in installments, most likely when he sold logs.” He glanced at Gerd, who nodded. “But the controversy began when the Bensons received one letter and then several others saying Einar had never sent any further payments.”

  Gerd’s mouth dropped open. “Are—are you sure?”

  He nodded. “It seems that way. The Bensons were furious and came out here to try to settle this, but Einar drove them away before they could even talk.” He looked at Gerd, who sat like stone. His voice softened. “You did not know that?”

  “B-but he told me two or three times that he had sent another payment. He went to Blackduck to do so. We built this house after the shack she had lived in burned down. They had started the barn before the husband died, so Einar finished that first. Several men came to help with both buildings. But after that . . .”

  “Do you have the contract?” the reverend asked.

  “I thought so, but it is not with his papers.”

  “Today we found a locked metal box beneath the floor.” Signe leaned forward. “But we have no idea where the key might be.”

  Gerd shook her head. “The contract was not in the drawer with his papers or the cash box. I’ll get it to show you.” She returned from the bedroom with both boxes in hand.

  Rune inspected the metal box. “A padlock like this can be sawed open.” He looked at Ivar. “Could you please get that small saw down in the machine shed? On the wall of the bench? You’ll need a lantern.”

  Ivar nodded. “Be right back.”

  “More coffee anyone?” When everyone shook their head, Signe sat back down. “Are you all right, Tante Gerd?”

  Gerd stared at her. “He was such an honest man when I married him. What happened?”

  “Looks to me like he got greedy. I’m sorry, Mrs. Strand. So very sorry.” Skarstead leaned forward. “Are you all right?”

  A sigh that ached of anguish made her close her eyes. “I will be.”

  Ivar returned with the saw, a hammer, and a screwdriver. “There is more than one way to break a lock.”

  “The voice of experience?” Rune asked.

  “Not telling.” Ivar applied the saw to the metal, but when it didn’t appear to be a quick process, he picked up the hammer and screwdriver and pried the box apart at the hinges.

  They all stared at the contents. A fat leather pouch that clanked, a small stack of receipts tied together with string, and several letters addressed to Einar, along with another plain envelope. A thick one.

  Rune laid everything out on the table. “You want me to open them?” he asked softly.

  Gerd touched the blank envelope. “This one.”

  Rune pulled the papers out of the envelope and unfolded them, then leaned closer to the lamp to read it aloud. It spelled out the details of the contract.

  “Ja, that is what he told me.” Gerd sniffed. “I—I thought he offered a good way to help them. She seemed so lost and homesick, and this made it possible for her to go home. Einar bought the tickets and gave them to her. Once they left, we moved in right away and got to work. Einar—well, we both were hard workers. And so pleased to have a place of our own.” She glanced slowly around the kitchen, pausing at the door to the bedroom where Kirstin was now asleep in her bed. She pointed to the two envelopes addressed to Einar. “Please read those.”

  Rune did so; both were pleas for the remainder owed. Gerd’s head started shaking again, as if of its own accord. Only the sound of the June bugs banging on the screen door and an errant mosquito broke the silence. As if none of them were breathing.

  Gerd straightened her back and raised her chin. “I will pay her what is due—with interest. Whatever it takes, I will make it right. If I can’t pay it all right now, I will finish when we sell the logs next winter.”

  “God bless you, Mrs. Strand. Would you like help with this?” the reverend asked.

  “If you mean with money, no thank you. If you mean getting this sent to her, yes.”

  “How about if tomorrow I bring Mr. and Mrs. Benson out, and between us all, we make sure this happens.” Skarstead looked at the contract again. “Are you sure you have enough cash to cover a bank draft for this amount?”

  “How much is it?” Gerd nodded to Signe, who o
pened the cigar box and the leather pouches and removed the money.

  “Never have I seen such prosperity in cleaning a bedroom,” Signe quipped.

  Rune rolled his eyes, Nilda rolled her lips, and Reverend Skarstead cleared his throat as if to stop a cough.

  “Well?” Gerd said. “Start counting.”

  Though Signe and Nilda had counted the money earlier, they laid the bills out in stacks of a hundred dollars and recounted the coins into stacks as well, just to be sure. Reverend Skarstead tallied up the columns.

  “You have enough here, I think. If you send her the money owed and interest at two percent, the total will be, uh . . .” His pencil scratched as he wrote it all out.

  They all stared in shock at the final amount.

  “You won’t have much left,” Signe said.

  “I will have enough to pay off the other house and get through the months till we sell logs again.”

  Rune bristled. “No, Tante Gerd, no. We will pay for our own house.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “We shall see on that.” She nodded again. “And we will buy a small flock of sheep.” She looked directly at Rune again. “There will be no more contracts around here.”

  Nilda snorted. Signe coughed.

  Ivar threw back his head and laughed. “If I were you, Reverend Skarstead, Rune, and the rest of you, I would just do like she says. They don’t say Norwegians are stubborn for nothing.”

  A few minutes later, after a parting prayer and good-byes on the porch, Ivar untied Skarstead’s horse and backed him up enough to turn the buggy around. “Sorry, we never thought to take care of your horse. Takk, sir, you have been a wonderful help.”

  “Good thing we have a near full moon tonight. No chance of us stumbling along.” Skarstead looked at those on the porch. “I will see you tomorrow afternoon, most likely, Mrs. Strand, and we will get this all taken care of.”

  “You won’t tell anyone else, will you?” Gerd asked.

  “No, only those necessary.”