There were certainly no easy answers.
So many pages were taken up with the pros and cons and her frustrations. Nilda stopped to read something her mor had said. “A woman’s place is with her husband. ‘Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge.’ In His time, God will make it clear to you. Thank Him in advance for His answers.”
And make my heart ready for His plan. For as far as she could see, either way would cause pain. How could she thank God for His answers when she had no idea what they were?
She swatted a mosquito. Time to go inside.
Mr. Haglund and Miss Walstead had come for an evening of whist, so Nilda had no time to finish her reading. Tonight Fritz would arrive. One more week, and school would be out and he could spend more time in town. Even her heart seemed to be grinning.
In the middle of their first game, they heard the telephone ring and Charles answer it. He appeared in the doorway. “Miss Nilda, Fritz is on the telephone.”
“Thank you.” She rose and headed for her office in the library. Just hearing his voice made her heart speed up.
“I hate to call this late,” Fritz said, “but something came up, so I have an extra meeting tonight. I’ll leave early tomorrow morning.”
Her anticipation for the evening took a nose dive.
Back in the parlor, Mr. Haglund leaped to his feet to pull out her chair. “Your face says you got bad news.”
“Not terrible, I suppose, but Fritz had an unexpected meeting tonight and won’t be here until tomorrow morning.” Curiosity rapped on the door of her mind and demanded entrance.
“That’s not so long.” Gertrude dealt the cards.
“I know, but this is not like him.” Nilda heaved a sigh and ordered herself to pay attention to what she was doing.
When the telephone jangled again, she groaned.
“Miss Nilda.”
“I’ll take it in my office.” She went down the hall again. But when she heard Rune’s voice, her heart skipped a beat. It had to be an emergency for him to ride to Benson’s Corner at this time of night. “What happened?”
“Hello to you too. The happening is we now have a telephone here at the farm.” He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She sank back in her chair. “How wonderful. Now we can talk whenever we want. Oh, Rune, that is marvelous. I hope you put one in each house and also one in the shop. That way you can respond to orders immediately. Oh, this is great.”
“I’m way ahead of you. I am calling from the new house, and now I can call the old house and even, yes, the shop too. Ivar said we should put one in the barn. He’s teasing, of course.”
“Such good news. Please tell everyone hello from us here. As soon as school is out, perhaps Knute and Leif could come visit for a few days, if they would like.”
“I’m sure they will. Good night now.”
Nilda could have skipped down the hall. Sad news one minute and good news the next. She no longer had to write a letter to her family and wait for an answer. And Fritz would be here in the morning.
“Good news! They now have telephones at the farm. Three of them! One in the shop too.”
“Well, that certainly is a nice surprise. Somehow the farm doesn’t seem as far away now.” Gertrude nodded. “Did you mention that perhaps the boys could come for a visit? Gunlaug too, but I have a feeling she is spending as much time as possible in the garden.”
“It also depends on when the sows start to farrow and if a cow is calving. Leif takes caring for his animals very seriously.”
“I thought of putting in a garden this year, but I’ve been too busy.” Mr. Haglund smiled at Nilda. “If George won’t allow you to work in the garden here, you could come to my house.” He paused. “In your spare time, of course.”
“You get someone to work up the soil, and I might just surprise you.” Nilda laid her cards on the table. “I won.”
That night when she wrote in her journal, she stared out the window to see moonlight casting shadows on the lawn. So beautiful. “But, Lord, I am concerned about Fritz’s meeting. What if . . . ?” She set her pen back in the inkwell and closed her journal. Shaking her head, she whispered, “I really am not good at waiting—and trusting. Help me, please.”
The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon when she was dressed and heading downstairs to get more items crossed off her list. Correspondence was always at the top. She shut the door to her office to keep from waking the rest of the household.
She’d just finished signing five letters and was addressing the envelopes when Charles tapped at the door and brought in steaming coffee.
“You are up mighty early today.” He set the tray on the corner of her desk and filled a cup to hand her. “Cook sent some toast with this. She has the cinnamon rolls almost ready for the oven.”
Nilda held the cup with one hand and picked up the toast with the other. “Thank her for me.”
“I will. Can I get you anything else?”
She shook her head with a smile. “Now I’ll have energy to keep going.” She licked the butter and jam off her fingertips before rolling an envelope into the carriage. The door clicked closed behind Charles as he left.
With the rest of her tasks crossed off her list and the coffeepot empty, she pushed her chair back in, made sure everything was put away, and made her way to the music room. Sitting at the piano, she flexed her fingers out of habit even though they had been flexing plenty already. As always, she started with scales, then moved to pieces she had memorized by now, and finally to the newest pages in her lesson book.
“Very good. Bravo.” Fritz’s applause snatched her back from her concentration.
She leaped from the piano bench and flew into his arms. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She hugged him again and leaned back to see his face. “You must have ridden out before daylight.”
“The sky was no longer black.” He kissed her soundly. “There, that’s better. The fragrance of cinnamon rolls met me outside the door. Have you eaten?”
“Charles brought me coffee and toast a couple of hours ago.” She looped her arm through his. “Let’s go eat. How did your meeting go?”
“I’ll tell you over breakfast. I’m starved.”
Nilda huffed. “All right.”
In the dining room, Gertrude looked up from her paper and smiled at them. “I love hearing you practice, Nilda. Thank you.” She tipped her head for her kiss on the cheek from Fritz. “You left before dawn.”
“Couldn’t wait.” He seated Nilda and took his chair next to her.
Charles set coffee and a roll in front of him. “Welcome home. Cook said the rest of the meal will be ready in about ten minutes, but she didn’t want you to faint from hunger.”
Nilda let Fritz eat a couple of bites and drink some coffee before she cleared her throat. “You have news?”
He nodded. “I do.” He set his cup down and looked from Nilda to Gertrude and back. “The meeting went well.” He took another bite and grinned at Nilda. “Oh, all right. I met with the superintendent of our district, and he accepted, but not happily, my resignation. I told him I had another teacher to recommend, and that eased the waters somewhat.” He patted Nilda’s hand. “I know you’ve been fretting about ways for us to live together that would allow you to keep working here. I think this way works for everyone.”
“But—but you wanted to keep teaching.”
“I will be. It will just be the piano and organ, not grade school.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Although if I want, I heard they need another teacher here in Blackduck.”
“Well, I’ll be. Thank you.” Gertrude smiled up at Charles as he set her plate before her, then turned to Nilda. “I told you God had a plan. Let’s say grace before this banquet gets cold.”
Nilda was still in a state of shock. You did have a plan. The thought made her want to run to the river and back. Mor was right. She shook her head. So much energy wasted worrying and stewing. Never had sh
e considered Fritz might change his mind.
A week later, Nilda paused at the door of the dining room. She smiled at Fritz as she stopped at her chair. “Good morning, everyone.” She had woken reminding herself that today truly was the day before her wedding. After breakfast, George was driving her to the farm to be with her family for her last night as a single woman.
Charles poured her coffee but did not ask her what she wanted. He just headed for the kitchen. Nilda sent Gertrude a puzzled look. Her employer shrugged as if she was confused as well, but the twinkle in her eyes belied her innocence.
Nilda picked up her coffee cup and inhaled the rich fragrance.
“Are you all packed?”
She nodded. “All things needed for the wedding in a separate trunk as you suggested. Gilda said there would be no wrinkles, although how she’ll do that is beyond me.”
Charles entered with a beaming smile and a full tray. He paused, and Mrs. Solvang joined him.
What in the world? Nilda could feel her eyes widening. Something was indeed afoot.
Humming the “Wedding March,” the two tried to keep formal faces—and failed. “For you, miss—soon to be ‘missus.’” They set several plates on the table in front of her. On them were all of her favorite foods as well as a miniature wedding cake.
Shaking her head, Nilda clapped her hands, giggling. “Thank you, thank you. You are unbelievable.” But then her emotions started to get the better of her. “I-I . . .” She blinked back tears. “I will never forget this.” Her whisper cracked in the middle. She sucked in a breath. The others were blinking too. She gave up and used her napkin to dab her eyes. “Thank you. You are coming to my wedding, right?”
Charles nodded. “Yes, Miss Nilda, we wouldn’t miss it.”
“The train will be leaving plenty early in the morning.” Gertrude blew her nose. “A few of your other friends from Blackduck are coming as well.”
Nilda blew out a breath and nodded when George entered the room. “Twenty minutes?”
“Fine. Your trunks are in the buggy.” He looked at Fritz. “Your horse is tethered behind.”
“Thank you.”
The next time I enter this house, I will be Mrs. Fritz Larsson. The thought sent shivers up her back.
When they reached the farm, Leif came running out to greet them. “We’re having a picnic out in the woods. I’ll put your horse in the corral, Mr. Larsson. Far said to leave your baggage at the old house.”
“Thank you, Leif.”
As soon as they set Nilda’s trunk on the porch, George turned around and headed down the driveway. At the same moment, Knute drove Rosie and the cart up to the empty house.
“Ma said to hurry, so we are. They’re already down at the creek.” He flicked the reins as soon as they were seated, and they trotted to the timber line, where they left the horse and cart.
“Mor made fried chicken ’cause she knows how you like fried chicken.” Knute grinned at Fritz. “I do too.”
“Glad you are here, Mr. Larsson,” Bjorn called.
“I think you can call me Fritz now. I’m almost a member of the family.”
“Does that make you Uncle Fritz, then?”
“It does.”
They all talked nonstop, celebrating the meal and catching up on news. When Fritz said he needed to get home, they adjourned to the house to wave him on his way.
In the old house, Leif pointed to Nilda. “Kirstin, this is Tante Nilda.”
Kirstin nodded and stopped in front of Nilda. “Tat Nida.” Then she raised her hands to be picked up. Grinning, she repeated, “Tat Nida,” and patted Nilda’s cheeks.
Nilda kissed her chubby fingers. “Good girl. Tante Nilda.” She grinned at Leif. “Good job.” She swung the little one around while everyone laughed. Kirstin joined in, her giggles as contagious as ever.
The wedding was set for noon the next day, and it arrived quicker than expected. Nilda wore an ankle-length dress with a fitted jacket, the beading on the heavy silk catching the light from the windows. Signe handed her a lovely bouquet of pink and white tulips with matching ribbons. “You are so beautiful. I know Fritz will be speechless.”
Nilda hugged her sister-in-law so tightly that neither of them could breathe and then released her with a teary laugh. With a grin, Signe slipped into the sanctuary to take her seat.
The organ music swelled as Fritz played the song that would accompany Nilda’s entrance. She hooked her arm through Rune’s and walked to the open doors of the sanctuary.
“Thank you, brother,” she whispered. Then she puffed out a breath as the altar shimmered through her tears, along with the man at the organ. The music changed to the “Wedding March,” and she and Rune paced to the altar, where Reverend Skarstead and Ivar already waited.
Fritz played the final chords and met her, his smile lighting the whole sanctuary.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the marriage of Fritz Larsson and Nilda Carlson. Let us pray.”
They both repeated their vows with firm voices, smiling. Finally Reverend Skarstead announced, “I now pronounce you man and wife. Fritz, you may kiss your bride.”
Nilda smiled at her new husband and kissed him right back.
“Mr. and Mrs. Fritz Larsson.”
The people clapped, Fritz took her arm, and they greeted those near the aisle as they walked to the back of the church. Kirstin waved and shrieked, making others laugh.
We’re married. We really are married.
“Please join us for wedding cake and coffee down in the basement,” Signe called to the guests.
Nilda and Fritz hugged Gertrude and Miss Walstead and family members in the narthex, then joined the others in the basement. When they had cut the cake and greeted everyone, George whispered in Fritz’s ear.
Nilda looked at Fritz in question.
“Another surprise.” He took her arm and followed the others, who were all heading outside. The Schoenleber train car waited on the tracks at the station.
“What?” Nilda said.
Gertrude smiled at her. “The private car that will take you on your honeymoon.”
“But . . .” She looked at Fritz, who shrugged.
“Leave it to my aunt.” They mounted the steps to the car.
Nilda shook her head. “What a way to start our new life. Do you know where we are going?”
“I do but hadn’t planned on this. You have to admit, our life ahead will be full of surprises.”
“And blessings beyond measure.”
As the train whistle blew, they both stood in the doorway and waved good-bye. Nilda leaned her cheek against his arm. “Promise me this has not all been a dream.”
“People can’t dream the same thing. This is indeed real.”
“Songs of joy for the rest of our lives?”
“Indeed. For as long as God gives us. Far beyond what we can dream or imagine. His Word says so. And we believe His Word.” He turned and kissed her forehead. “Always.”
Lauraine Snelling is the award-winning author of more than seventy books, fiction and nonfiction, for adults and young adults. Her books have sold more than five million copies. Besides writing books and articles, she teaches at writers’ conferences across the country. She and her husband make their home in Tehachapi, California. Learn more at www.laurainesnelling.com.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Lauraine Snelling
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Prologue
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Epilogue
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
List of Pages
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