“I wish you weren’t going to this dreadful war. It’d be so much better if we were back in Sweden.”
Ilian pulled on his trousers. “Mor, we’ve talked about this. Everyone has to do their part. Slavery is an abhorrent thing.”
“And well I know it. Your father has kept me as a slave for all these years. He’s never once cared about my happiness. Just my work.”
“Well, when I get back from doing my duty, I swear I’ll take you back to Sweden to visit your sisters. This war won’t last long. We’ll have the South put in its place in six months, mark my word. I’ll be home before you even have time to miss me. Maybe Far will let you go visit the girls in Kansas.” He pulled on his shirt.
“He won’t let me go anywhere. You know that as well as anyone.”
“Well, right now that may be for the best. Who knows where battles might break out?” He buttoned his shirt, then pulled up his braces. “I promise, Mor, when this is over, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I’ve been saving up my money. We’ll have enough for a grand journey.”
“You’re a good son.” Mor came to stand next to him as he dug through the drawer of his dresser for a pair of wool socks.
“I think I packed my last good pair of socks.”
“I’ll fetch you one of your far’s. He won’t miss them.”
Ilian felt his leg. There was a strange dull ache that was growing to a fiery sensation. What was wrong with him? He looked down but couldn’t see anything. Everything had turned cold and dark. Mor had said it was nearly dawn, but it didn’t look that way now.
He didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to lie back on the bed. When he heard a noise, he opened his eyes and saw a beautiful young woman. Her hair was the color of dark honey, more brown than red or gold, yet there were highlights of each.
She smiled. “You’re going to be late.”
“Late? Why am I late? Where am I going?”
She laughed. “The doctor is waiting for you.” She turned to leave.
He shook his head. “Kirstin?”
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Ilian jumped up from the bed to follow her but found he couldn’t move. What was wrong with him?
“Lie still, Ilian.”
He opened his eyes and at first saw only pine trees overhead and snow coming down through the branches.
“Don’t move, Ilian.”
He felt hands pressing against him. “Domar?”
“Yes, it’s me. You’ve been hurt, and you must lie still. Here, take this.” Domar put a small medicine bottle to his lips. Ilian drank the liquid.
“What happened?” he asked as Domar pulled the bottle away. “Where’s Mor . . . and your sister?”
“Your mother is dead, and Kirstin is back in Duluth. That’s where we’re headed.”
Ilian closed his eyes. He wasn’t even sure that Domar was real. “What happened?” The effects of the medicine were starting to take hold. Domar’s image grew blurry.
“Just rest. We can talk later, but for now you have to stay still. Your arm and leg are broken. Doc set the bones as best he could and splinted both to keep them immobile, but you have to be completely still. The medicine will help.”
“Your arm and leg are broken,” Domar had said. Ilian tried to register the words and what they meant.
Broken. He was broken.
Domar was glad that Ilian was once again asleep. The camp doctor had seen that he had plenty of laudanum for the trip to Duluth. The situation was grim, the doctor had told them. Ilian’s femur had suffered a compound fracture. The doctor had done his best to clean and stabilize the leg for the trip, but there was no telling what might happen. He’d admonished Domar to keep Ilian as still as possible. The wagon driver was told to go slowly and keep the wagon from jostling about too much.
Just before they left, the doctor told Domar that if Ilian’s femur moved too much, the bone would slip out, and the doctors in Duluth would have to reset the bone once again. Not only that, but too much movement might damage the artery. If that happened, Ilian would bleed to death in a matter of minutes. The very thought left Domar feeling hollow inside. Numb. What would life be without his good friend?
The last thing the doctor did was pack Ilian’s leg and arm in ice. It was so cold outside that Domar doubted it would melt. He shivered, pulled his coat collar up, and watched Ilian sleep.
The trip seemed to take forever, but they had to take it slow, with all the snow and dangers to Ilian. If Ilian died, Domar would never forgive himself.
I seem to have that problem with everyone else, so I might as well be hard on myself too.
He sighed and kept his gaze on the roadway. Morganson had admonished him to stay in Duluth until he knew for sure how Ilian was going to make out. The driver was instructed to stay only long enough to hear what the doctor had to say and then get back to camp.
“You have to live,” Domar told his sleeping friend. “We need you. You’re the best man we have.” He smiled. Their boss had often commented that if he could only have a dozen men like Ilian, the entirety of Minnesota would be logged in no time at all.
Now Ilian was hurt, and there was no telling if the damage would take his life. The camp doctor had been so worried. Domar had never seen him quite that unnerved. Of course, all kinds of debris had made its way into the wound. Doc had tried to clean out the worst of it. He’d been a battlefield surgeon during the war to free the slaves. He knew his job very well, having seen hundreds, if not thousands, of gruesome injuries. He’d told them that many a man lost his leg not from the actual bullet but from the bits of cloth and dirt that had gone into the wound. Often those were the things that caused infection.
“A lot of times it’s just the luck of the draw,” Doc had told them.
Domar whispered another prayer for Ilian and tried to relax. He didn’t believe in luck. He’d certainly never had any. It was hard enough just to hold on to his belief in God, given all that had happened. God seemed harsh and cruel and had definitely turned His back on Domar years ago.
“What good is it to trust someone who never gives you a second thought?”
“Did you say something, Domar?” the driver asked, looking back over his shoulder.
Domar shook his head. “Just wishing we could go faster, but I know it would probably kill Ilian if we did.”
The driver nodded and turned his attention back to the road. “It’ll be another hour or so.”
Another hour. Domar looked down at Ilian. He was so pale. He’d lost some blood, though not much, but Domar knew the shock to his body was most likely taking its toll. Maybe praying wasn’t a bad idea. Pray for Ilian and for himself. Life had changed dramatically for them both, and the road ahead was not going to be easy.
But when had it ever been?
Chapter 7
“I know this has been hard on you, Kirstin. I know you don’t understand the choice I’ve made.” Lena passed a plate of pickled herring to her granddaughter.
“No, I don’t.” Kirstin took the plate. She glanced at the fish, then set it aside. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand any of this.”
“I’m not sure I understand it either. It wasn’t an easy choice. I weighed it very carefully and prayed about it a great deal. I think, when it came down to it, your morfar and I wanted only to offer Domar a good home with what few family members he’d accept. He lived with us for a short time after he arrived. The room upstairs by yours was his. Your uncle Per thought we should say something to the others but later changed his mind after a long talk with Domar. I suppose whatever the boy had to say was persuasive. After a while our situation became commonplace, but even so, I hurt for your family not knowing the truth.”
Lena watched as Kirstin buttered a piece of toast and dipped the edge in the yolk of her egg. She glanced up before taking a bite. “I tried to pray about it last night, but I almost felt like the prayers were blocked. How could God ever honor a lie? Domar has put us all in a bad position. He has aske
d us to sin along with him. That isn’t right.”
“No, I agree. Believe me, I carry my fair share of guilt. I haven’t outright lied to your mother, but keeping the secret of his being alive has been a terrible burden.”
“She’ll be so hurt when she learns the truth. She’ll feel so betrayed by you . . . by him.”
“Much like Domar felt when they sent him away, I imagine.”
Lena watched her granddaughter wrestle with her thoughts. Lena knew she hadn’t made the perfect decision. She knew that whichever choice she would have made with Domar, someone would feel hurt and betrayed.
“If you tell his secret, he will leave us. It will forever destroy the relationship you could have with him. He will disappear and go far from here, and never again will we know whether he is dead or alive.”
“Then we must convince him to tell it himself. We must help him see that it’s wrong and that he needs to end this deception.” Kirstin picked up her cup of coffee. “He needs to understand the pain that he’s caused.”
“And you think he doesn’t already know? You think no one has pointed this out?” Lena asked as she picked at her food.
“I’m sure you have, Mormor, but he’s acting like a child blinded by his own pain. He needs to put that aside and see the truth, and I intend to help him see it. I intend to get him to change his mind. I have thirty days. I promised to keep his secret that long. No longer.”
“You know he doesn’t come here that often.”
“He’ll be here next week. You said so yourself. That is when his regular visit was planned.”
“Yes, but then he won’t return for a month. You can hardly think you’ll turn him around in one visit.”
Kirstin smiled for the first time that morning. “God can do the impossible. He can change Domar’s heart. He can make Domar forgive.”
Lena returned the smile. “Do you think God imposes the wishes of one of His children on the other?”
Kirstin’s smile faded, and she looked down at her plate. “This one time, I hope He does.”
“Tomorrow we will enjoy a smörgåsbord supper. Everyone in the neighborhood will bring food to welcome your arrival,” Mormor announced later that morning before leaving the house for nearly two hours to go spread the news.
Kirstin had used the free time to sew and wash clothes while keeping an eye on the sourdough bread Mormor had put in the oven. She found sewing and laundry gave a person a great deal of time to think and pray. But no matter how much she did of either one, she couldn’t seem to find any peace of mind. The current situation was impossible.
She heard someone at the back door even before the knocking began. Kirstin dried her hands on her apron and went to see who it might be. She was shocked all over again when she found her brother waiting on the other side.
“Domar.” Would she ever get used to seeing his face again?
“Where’s Mormor and Mr. Farstad?”
“Mormor is visiting friends. I don’t know where Mr. Farstad is. Why are you here?”
“There was an accident.” He looked so grave. “Ilian’s hurt. He’s in the hospital. I’ve been there all night, waiting for them to stabilize him.”
“When did it happen?” Kirstin could see the matter was serious.
“Yesterday. We had just returned to camp and started our work. They were stacking logs to drive to the railroad, and a chain snapped. The logs came loose, rolled off the sled, and broke Ilian’s leg and arm. The arm isn’t too bad, but the break in his thigh tore through the skin, and he could lose the leg or worse.”
Kirstin’s hand went to her mouth. “Will he . . . is he . . . going to die?”
“I don’t know. He’s badly injured, and the doctor said the shock of it could cause further problems. They’ve had to set the bones and stitch up the wounds. They splinted the leg and put him in traction until the stitches come out in a week or so. Then they’ll cast the leg.”
“And when they do that, will he be out of danger?”
Domar shook his head. “All I know is that Ilian is in a lot of pain, so the doctor is giving him medicine to keep him asleep. I was told to find his father and let him know the situation so that he could come and see his son—just in case the worst were to happen.”
“This is terrible.” Kirstin reached for her coat. “I’ll help you find Mr. Farstad.”
“No, you stay here in case they come back. I know the neighborhood and where Mormor has probably gone. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
Kirstin felt so helpless. “Of course.” She put her coat back on the peg. “I’ll pray.”
Domar nodded and headed back out. Kirstin didn’t know when it had started snowing again, but it was coming down steadily in great huge flakes. Had there been nothing else to do and no worry about Ilian, she might have liked to sit at the window and just watch.
“But there’s no time.”
She quickly finished rinsing and hanging the remaining laundry on the line Mormor had run in the dining room. Poor Ilian. She had only just met him, but already she had plans for him and Mr. Farstad to come together and put the past behind them. It didn’t really matter that such a thing wasn’t her job. She knew it hurt Mr. Farstad, and she had come to care for him because he cared for Mormor. If there was a way she could help Ilian and his father reconcile, that was what she would do.
“There’s plenty to be done here,” Kirstin murmured to no one. Her entire life she had tried to be a mediator and set things right. She had lectured many a soul back in Sweden about what they’d done to her brother, and most sought forgiveness. Kirstin had always pointed out that the forgiveness they needed was from God, since Domar was dead.
Only he wasn’t.
It wasn’t long before Mormor returned without Domar and Mr. Farstad. Kirstin worried Domar hadn’t found him, but Mormor assured her all was well.
“Domar is going with Mr. Farstad to the hospital. They’ll both return here tonight to let us know what’s going on.”
“How terrible for this to have happened. I’m just as sorry as I can be.” Kirstin let out a heavy sigh. “Do you think Ilian will die?”
Mormor shrugged as she hung up her coat. The snow had left it quite wet. “There’s no way of telling. This is a very bad situation.”
“We should cancel tomorrow’s supper.”
“No, the smörgåsbord will be a good time to catch everyone up on what has happened and how Ilian is doing,” Mormor assured her.
“I’ve been praying for him. I thought this situation might even cause Ilian and his father to come together again.”
Mormor nodded and started to take off her boots. Kirstin hurried to help her. “It’s possible,” Mormor replied, “that this will allow father and son to see beyond their past, but I have my doubts. There is such a deep wound between them. I’ve never really understood why Habram’s lack of money to take his wife back to Sweden for a visit should cause Ilian to hate him. After all, that trip is extremely expensive, and Ilian knows it full well. For years he was saving to take her back himself, so he knows it’s not without challenge.”
“Why did they come to America?” Kirstin asked.
“I know only that Habram wanted a new start. He’s never been a rich man. I remember him once telling me that he had to have help getting here from Sweden. I don’t know why his wife let it be such a contention between them. She obviously didn’t want to leave Sweden, but her husband felt it was necessary, so she should have tried to work through her sorrow and anger, but she didn’t. I used to try to talk to her and share Scripture, but she was such a hard woman. She wanted no part of my comfort nor sympathy, and she definitely wanted nothing to do with God.”
“I suppose Ilian loved her a great deal.” Kirstin pulled off her grandmother’s boot and then replaced it with a woolen slipper.
“Yes, he did. To the point that it did great harm to his relationship with his father. The two were forever at odds. Such a sad thing. Sadder still, his mother encouraged the separa
tion between them. I had never seen such a thing in all my life until I watched how Sarah Farstad divided her husband and son.”
“But why would a mother do that? What would it gain her?” Kirstin was just as confused as her grandmother. She helped with the other boot and slipper, then straightened. “I must say, we are two very torn and heartbroken families.”
“Maybe that’s why we’ve fit so well together. Ilian has long been Domar’s best friend, and Habram and your morfar were dear friends, and now Habram and I are close. Maybe it’s because we understand the pain that comes with families.”
“And secrets.”
Mormor looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “And secrets.”
Domar stared down at his friend as he slept. Some of the cuts and bruises from the accident were more apparent now. After the accident, he had focused only on Ilian’s arm and leg, but now Domar could see that Ilian had been injured in other ways as well. There was no doubt he was going to be dealing with this for a long while.
The doctor was keeping Ilian heavily sedated because of the intensity of the pain. It was hard to imagine what he was going through. They’d both suffered their injuries over the years, but never anything like this.
“He looks so peaceful. It’s hard to remember he’s in such a bad way,” Habram declared. “Does the doctor think he can save the leg?”
“He said there’s a good chance because Ilian is so strong and healthy. But he also said Ilian will probably always walk with a limp.” Domar frowned. That wouldn’t go over well with Ilian.
“Why haven’t they put that hard cast on yet?”
“The doctor said there’s too much swelling. The bones are set and splinted temporarily until they can get the swelling down and, in the case of the leg, the stitches out. Then they’ll put the casts on his arm and leg. The arm will probably be cast in a day or two. The leg will be at least a week before he casts it. Meanwhile, the traction keeps the leg bones from shifting. That, along with the pain, is the reason they are keeping him heavily sedated. Dr. Moore said bones start healing almost immediately, so he doesn’t want it to heal badly and have to be rebroken.”
Forever My Own Page 7
