Forever My Own

by Tracie Peterson

  Kirstin frowned. “I know people think that sometimes, but I try never to be proud.”

  “Good,” her grandmother said, smiling. “Then you will no doubt attract a husband sooner than you think.”

  “Sometimes I think he won’t ever come.” Kirstin sighed. “But I have put my trust in God, and He takes good care of me.” She didn’t bother to add that despite her trust in God, she was dying of loneliness. She wanted very much to be married—to have a dearest friend in a husband. She longed to feel the warmth of a man’s arms around her to reassure her when times were hard—when she was afraid. All her family had been there for her, as well as God, but this was different. She longed for the companionship that only a husband and wife could know. And not just the physical aspect, but that close oneness that came with years of trust and living together. Like her mother and father had. Like Mormor and Morfar used to have. After all, what was the sense of having so much wisdom if she had no family of her own with which to share it?

  “Tell me about your mor. Is she happy?” Mormor asked.

  Kirstin considered the question for a moment. “Sometimes.” She saw her grandmother frown and hurried on. “Ja, for the most part she is happy, but she’s never gotten over losing Domar. She misses him every day and goes to the cemetery, where they put a stone for him at the family plot. She says a mother never gets over the loss of a child.”

  “Ja, that’s true.”

  Kirstin glanced at her grandmother. “Did you lose children too, Mormor? I mean, besides Uncle Per.”

  “I had a stillborn baby before your mor was born. We called him Bjorn. He was born looking so beautiful and perfect. The doctor had no idea why he had died. When we put him in the ground, I wanted to follow after him. I was so heartbroken.” There were tears in Mormor’s eyes, so full of loss.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. Losing Domar, especially given the situation, has haunted Mor all these years. But she should never have doubted him and believed the worst of him. That was wrong. They should never have forced him to leave Sweden.” Kirstin turned back to her work. “When I have children, I will always believe in them, even if they do terrible things—I will love them and never send them away.”

  “Your mother knew how difficult it would be for everyone if Domar stayed in the village and lived as one who was shunned. Have you never considered how hard that would have been on her?”

  “You want me to have sympathy for Mor, and I do.” Kirstin pushed back her long single braid. “I have great compassion for Mor and Far. They have suffered for their decision, but that is the consequences of what they chose to do. They sent Domar away to live here with you, and instead the ship sank, and he was forever lost to us. At least until we are all called to be together with Jesus.”

  Mormor smiled. “I’m certainly glad to see you have kept your faith in God.”

  “‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is understanding,’” Kirstin murmured, remembering the Proverbs nine verse.

  She knew there weren’t words enough to explain how she might very well have taken her own life when Domar died if not for her faith in God. She had never been as close to any of her siblings as she was with Domar. Härse and Svena were closer in age, but Domar had spent more time with Kirstin. Domar had taken her on walks and taught her to fish. Domar had read to her before she had much interest in books. Oh, and the long talks they’d had. Domar had confided all his dreams for the future, and Kirstin had done likewise. At least until he was forced to leave. Yes, it was God alone who got her through that horrible time and the terrible accusations put upon her brother.

  “My faith in God is everything to me, Mormor. Everything.”

  After helping Mormor into her seat at the table, Habram assisted Kirstin with hers. As he’d promised on the ride over, the restaurant was quite nice. Each table was decorated with a linen tablecloth and napkins, as well as a lighted lamp. It made the room bright and cheery. At the end of the room was a large stone fireplace. At this time, however, it was blazing with a wealth of large logs, and on the spit a roasted pig was being slowly turned over the flame. The aroma was impressive and made Hambram’s stomach rumble at the thought of what was to come.

  “This was so nice of you, Habram. I haven’t eaten here since the last time you invited me.” Mormor spread her linen napkin on her lap.

  “I’ve never eaten anywhere like this,” Kirstin admitted. “We never went to restaurants back in Sweden.”

  “Well, we will treat you right here in America,” Habram declared.

  “It can get a little smoky in here with all these lamps,” Mormor added. “Hot too, but on a night like this, no one will complain.”

  A waitress soon appeared, listing off a few meals they had to offer that evening. They all agreed on beef stew, baked apples, and rye bread with butter.

  “Lots of butter,” Habram requested.

  “Will you have beer to drink?” the waitress asked.

  “No, we’ll have that hot apple cider you make.” Habram looked at Kirstin. “You’ll like it. It warms you clear through. Perfect for a night like tonight.” As if on cue, the wind picked up and rattled a nearby window.

  “It sounds perfect.”

  “So, do you think you will like Duluth?” Habram asked Kirstin as the waitress returned to the kitchen. He had been observing her all evening, and she seemed quite content. He knew that would please her grandmother.

  “I do. It’s very pleasant, even with all the snow and cold. I’ve always loved the cold. Far said I’m a winter baby through and through. In fact, I arrived in America on my birthday, December thirtieth.”

  “We’ll have to celebrate it tonight, since you had no one to cheer you on the day,” Habram declared. “We’ll have some cobbler with our supper.”

  “No, we don’t need to fuss.” Kirstin shook her head. “The people I befriended on the ship were good to me. We had our own little celebration. Now, tell me what spring is like here. When will it come?”

  Mormor patted her hand. “Spring is late, like in much of Sweden, but so lovely. A lot of wildflowers grow in the fields, and I usually plant a few of them in pots to keep things pretty around the house.”

  “We plant some vegetables too.” Habram toyed with his silverware. “But we won’t be able to stir the dirt until much later. Maybe even as late as May. Some years it stays so cold that the ground is frozen through until it’s nearly time for summer.” He chuckled. “Which is why we aren’t dredging the canal right now. The ground is frozen solid.”

  “So your canal must wait.”

  “Ja, and folks in Duluth are not happy about that.” Habram paused as the waitress put their tankards of cider on the table. “You be careful, there, Kirstin. It’ll be plenty hot.”

  Kirstin nodded and lifted her mug to blow on the liquid.

  Habram toasted the ladies with his tankard. “To the two prettiest gals in town.” He tested the drink. “Ah, just right. I like it hot.” He watched as Lena and her granddaughter sampled the drink. The expressions on their faces showed their approval. “It’s good, ja?”

  “Ja,” Kirstin replied. “Det är bra.” She tried it again and then put the mug down. “Very good. Mr. Farstad, tell me about your canal. Are you the one digging it?”

  “No, my good friend Major John Upham is doing it. He owns the company and has dredged all around this area. He knows what he’s doing there, by golly. He’s going to make us a good canal, despite what Superior folks say.”

  “Why are they so against the canal?” Kirstin asked.

  The waitress appeared with a tray holding three big bowls of stew and smaller bowls of baked apples. She deposited these and went back to the kitchen. When she returned, she brought the bread and butter, as well as salt.

  “Ah, now we eat.” Habram took the bread and butter. “This is good.”

  The waitress placed the salt on the table. “If you need something, just give me a wave.”


  “Ja, we will do that.” Habram looked everything over to make sure it was in order.

  “Will you say grace for us, Habram?” Lena asked.

  “Of course I will.” He bowed his head and blessed the food. He also prayed blessings on Lena and Kirstin and the boys who were logging and the boys digging the canal. “Amen.”

  “Amen,” Lena declared loudly, while Kirstin merely whispered.

  “When do you think you can start work again on the canal?” Kirstin asked as she took up her knife and fork to cut the beef.

  “As soon as the thaw comes. Maybe April. There’s still some work happening to shore up and strengthen the sides. We’re going to have a good canal, and it won’t cause all the problems they’re worried about.”

  “With the breakwater?”

  “You remembered the word.” Habram beamed her a smile. She was a smart young woman. Lena had told him that even at a young age Kirstin preferred the company of older women to those her own age.

  “I want to learn better English,” Kirstin said. “Far said he wanted all of his children to speak several languages, but especially English.”

  “Maybe one day your folks will come to America,” Lena replied.

  “I don’t know,” Kirstin said, shaking her head. “Mor has been afraid of ships and big water ever since Domar died.” She reached for a piece of rye bread. “But we won’t talk of that now. Tell me more about your canal, Mr. Farstad.”

  Habram smiled. “It’s going to be a great thing. It will make Duluth rich because the ships will sail right into Duluth and won’t have to go to Superior first.”

  The wind again rattled the windows. He could see that Lena was getting concerned.

  “Maybe we could have them pack up our food so we can take it home to eat,” he suggested.

  “Take it home?” Kirstin laughed. “Whoever heard of such a thing?”

  “Sometimes it’s best that way when the storms come up quick,” he explained. “It might give us a terrible snow and make it impossible to get the horse and carriage home.”

  “Ja, he’s right. Sometimes the weather here can be quite bad. The restaurant is good to help us. We just have to bring back the dishes,” Lena declared. “We can take it home, Habram. That will be good.”

  Habram signaled their waitress. She arrived at the table looking rather harried. “You want to take it home?” she asked.

  Lena and Habram nodded, and Kirstin followed suit. “Ja,” Habram replied. “Before the snow makes it so we have to live here in the brewery.” He chuckled and turned to the ladies. “Which might not be so bad.”

  Lena rolled her eyes as she often did when he made light of bad situations. “It will be better for all of us that we get home and build up our fires.”

  Habram knew she was right, but he loved her company and wasn’t at all eager to be without her. “Ja. We’ll go home.”

  Chapter 3

  Kirstin listened to the wind howl all night long. Every time she woke up, it was raging and her windows were rattling. She had known storms like these in Sweden. Sometimes they went on for days, making it hard to take care of the animals and other chores around the farm. The wind could make a person feel exhausted. The constant howling could even drive a man to madness.

  She missed her family and the farmhouse Far and the boys had built for them. Everyone had built it, truth be told, even Mormor and Morfar. It was while building that house that Kirstin had learned how to drive nails and sand boards for the floor. It had been such a milestone in their family. They couldn’t own the land, but the nobleman who did own it gave them permission to build their own house—and that they did own. It was a moment of true pride for her father.

  Tossing and turning throughout the night, Kirstin dreamed of home and of her trip to America. She had been a little afraid of the ocean crossing, knowing it had taken the life of her brother eleven years earlier. She was so relieved when land came in sight again that she thought she might kiss the dirt as some of the other immigrants had.

  When morning came, Kirstin was surprised to awaken to silence. The wind had stopped, and it seemed the world was at peace once again. She went to her window and opened the shutters to have a look. The sun’s reflection on the snow blinded her and made it impossible to see much. The sun felt warm through the window, but not warm enough. Shivering, she pulled on her red robe and made her way downstairs. She hoped Mormor had stoked up the fire, but if not, Kirstin would do it herself.

  She found Mormor sitting in the rocker, warming herself by the hearth. A ball of yarn was in her lap, and knitting needles clicked as she worked on what looked to be a shawl.

  “Come get warm,” Mormor said. “I tried to keep the fire going strong all night, but I sleep too hard come morning. It’s a cold house today.”

  “That’s all right. I don’t mind at all. The quilts were very warm.” Kirstin moved closer to the fire and held out her hands. “I should have thought to come down and check on the fire, and I certainly didn’t mean to sleep so late. After all, I’m here to help you.” She turned and warmed her backside and glanced toward the shuttered windows in the living room. “How much snow did we get?”

  “Only a few inches. I guess it was more wind than anything, which is just fine by me. I didn’t want Habram to have to shovel too much.”

  “He would do just about anything for you.” Kirstin grinned. “You have a beau, Mormor.”

  Her grandmother chuckled. “We have both been lonely, so it’s good to have a friend.”

  “Does Mr. Habram’s son ever visit?”

  “Ja, and he stays with me. Not with Habram. They have too many problems, and neither has patience to work it out with the other. Ilian holds a grudge against his father.”

  “Well, maybe I can help him see the good in reconciliation. I love to bring folks together. Especially family. It’s so important that we not forsake our family.”

  “That is true, but maybe just give it some time. People tend to resent strangers interfering in their business.”

  “Ja, I know you’re right, so I won’t be a stranger.” Kirstin turned again to warm the front of her body. Now the extra room upstairs made sense. “Does Ilian use the room upstairs when he comes to stay?”

  Mormor glanced up from her knitting. “Ja. He uses that room. I’ll have to give him Per’s room when he comes next time. It wouldn’t be good to have you two upstairs alone. Who knows what kind of horseplay might come about?” Her tone was jovial and not at all accusing.

  “Horse-play? This is an American word?”

  “Ja. It means you like each other and maybe steal a kiss or snuggle on the sofa.”

  “Mormor! I am a good Christian woman. I don’t horse-play.”

  The old woman chuckled. “You will, one day.”

  Kirstin felt her cheeks flush but didn’t know if the cause was Mormor’s words or the fire. She turned her back to the fire once more. “What would you like me to do today? Should we make more nets?”

  “Maybe later. I planned to clean this morning. I’ve already put the roast on to cook all day. We’ll have a nice meal tonight. But first you eat. There’s oatmeal on the back of the stove and cream on the back porch. If you want something sweet, there’s brown sugar or honey. Nothing fancy, but filling.”

  “Sounds perfect, and I can definitely help with cleaning.”

  Kirstin went to the kitchen and took a bowl down from the cupboard. She scooped up oatmeal, then found the cream and sugar.

  Returning to the fire, she looked her grandmother. “May I eat it here by the fire?”

  “Of course. We do not stand on ceremony here.”

  Kirstin sampled the cereal, then gave it a gentle stir. “Where would you like me to start with cleaning?” She looked around the room.

  “Well, first you can help me gather the eggs. There won’t be very many. Only a few of my hens like to lay in the winter. Habram will bring us more milk from his cow. He doesn’t use much for himself and generally gives it to m
e to make things that I share with him.”

  “Why don’t you two marry?” Kirstin hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but now that she had, there was no sense trying to take it back.

  Mormor refocused on her knitting. “The Lord hasn’t told us that it’s time yet. We will wait for His timing.”

  “So you are in love.” It was more statement than question. Kirstin had never thought for even one minute that she’d come to America and find her grandmother on the verge of remarrying.

  “We love each other well enough. More importantly, we take care of each other.” Mormor smiled.

  “So you really didn’t need me.”

  “That isn’t true,” Mormor said, stopping her work. “When I heard you were coming, I was so happy. Habram was too.”

  “I was so happy to come. I missed you so much. All those years without you and Morfar and Uncle Per were so empty. A girl needs her grandmother.”

  “I missed you too. I never really wanted to leave Sweden, but Per wanted to own land and find a wife. Your grandfather thought it would be a great adventure to see America.”

  “And was it?”

  “Ja. Our entire life was a great adventure. At first I wasn’t sure why God would have us be here, but when that became apparent, I was glad we were obedient.”

  “And what was the reason God wanted you here?”

  Mormor looked rather hesitant. “I’ll tell you by and by, but for now my mind is full to overflowing with how happy I am that you are here to be a part of my life in America. I’m so blessed. You are important to me, and I will cherish our time together. You’ll see. It will be the very best thing for all of us.”

  By afternoon they had washed the walls and inside windows and wiped down all of the trim and shutters. They had also swept and scrubbed the floors after strategically moving the furniture around the room in order to do small portions at a time. At noon they ate pickled herring and boiled eggs with Swedish rye bread that Mormor had made. After that they got to work again, and just as Kirstin finished polishing the kitchen table with lemon oil, a knock sounded on the front door.