But the Farstad men definitely seemed more at peace. Ilian’s expression had softened when he spoke to his father—he’d even smiled. And there was respect in his tone. Turning to Jesus had no doubt helped Ilian think differently about Morfar, but Kirstin couldn’t help but think it was something more.
“I’ll be back for you ladies in half an hour or so,” Domar said, kissing the top of his grandmother’s head. “Ilian has asked for my help with a few things.”
“That’s just fine. You go right ahead.” Mormor checked the stove’s receptacle for water.
Kirstin waited until Domar left the house and it was just her and Mormor. “Something has changed between Morfar and Ilian.”
Her grandmother looked up as she drew water for the dishes. “Changed in what way?”
“It’s better. I can’t explain it, but Ilian definitely looked at him differently. I think they must have had a talk about everything. Do you suppose they’ve decided to be friends?”
“I don’t know about friends, but perhaps Ilian has decided to let go of the past. That would be to his advantage and help his spirit tremendously. Being unburdened of all that happened long ago will give him a freedom to enjoy the present.”
“I’ve never understood his anger toward his father anyway. Oh, I could see the problems between them because of Ilian’s belief that his mother was being mistreated. I should not be silent myself if I thought Far was hurting Mor. But Ilian’s anger has always been such a powerful thing between them. Now it seems that is gone.”
“God can work miracles, Kirstin. We must allow for His hand in all of this. Giving yourself over to God is a frightening thing, but it’s also the most powerful and wonderful thing you will ever do. Ilian has always had a type of faith that believed in God’s existence, but he didn’t have a relationship with his heavenly Father. That makes all the difference. A great many people show up in church week after week. They believe that God exists and that He created the world, but they don’t understand that God wants to be an intimate part of their lives. He wants them to surrender to Him in full so that He can remake them. Ilian has come to see that, and no doubt it will have a profound effect on him.”
Kirstin thought about it for a moment. “Perhaps in coming to better know his heavenly Father, Ilian can now see the love of his earthly one.”
“Perhaps. But remember, Kirstin, it is his path to walk, and if he chooses to share it with you, then all is well and fine. But if he doesn’t want to . . . if he still feels too guarded to open up about it, don’t make him feel bad about that. Don’t push him.”
“I wouldn’t.” She hadn’t expected her grandmother’s admonition. “I care too much for him.”
Mormor smiled. “I know you do. It’s just a gentle reminder, not a reprimand.”
A lot of people were gathered to watch as Major Upham worked the dredge and tried to force the frozen ground to yield. Since it was Saturday, a lot of schoolchildren had come to see the operation as well. They were more excited than anyone, and with every bit of gravel and dirt that Major Upham pulled away, they cheered.
Kirstin studied the area and wondered how the people living on Minnesota Point were going to get to town once the canal was in place. She supposed they would need a bridge in time. For now, they would most likely use a ferry. She wasn’t sure she would like being cut off that way. Lake Superior was so vast. It was very much like the ocean, going on and on for miles with nothing but water to see.
“What do you think?” her brother asked.
“It’s quite the ordeal. I hope they’ll break through without any more difficulty. Someone mentioned there’s not another dredge like the Ishpeming. If it breaks down, we’ll be hard-pressed to finish, and it’s already been hours just working on it today.”
“I know. They thought the ground would be more yielding, but they have the ability to bust up the ground with the black powder. I think we’ll see it complete today, and I wouldn’t worry about the Ishpeming. No one knows the risk better than Major Upham and Mr. Farstad. They’ll be careful, believe me.”
Kirstin raised her face to the skies, where the clouds had parted and begun to clear. They’d had some rain off and on—just enough to make the surrounding area muddier than before. “Maybe we’ll have sunshine after all.”
“I think even God is smiling at the thought of this canal finally being completed. The people here have wanted it for a long time. Having their own entry from the lake will change everything for them. They won’t feel reliant upon Superior’s good graces to get what they need, and they won’t have to pay out large sums. This, along with the railroad, is going to put Duluth on the map, to be sure.”
“Everything in America seems to be in some state of construction. I saw all sorts of building going on in New York City and elsewhere when I passed through on the train.”
“America is definitely a busy place. It’s been like that the whole time I’ve been here.”
Kirstin touched her brother’s arm. “Do you miss Sweden?”
He considered her question for a moment. “There are things I miss—people—but I’ve been here so long now that Sweden is no longer home. America is home. Duluth and this area are home to me.”
“I think this will be home for me as well. I like it here very much.”
“I think you like a certain person more than the place,” he said with a grin.
“I do.” She smiled as she met his gaze. “Have you noticed that he’s changed? He and his father seem . . . better.”
“I did notice that. I’m very glad for it. It’s been a lifetime coming.”
“I hope they’ll be able to be close.” The wind picked up and pulled at Kirstin’s bonnet. She quickly caught it and tied the ribbons. “Uff da!”
Domar turned in surprise, then began to laugh. “I’ve not heard you say that since you arrived. I remember when you were little and said it so much that Mor threatened to wash your mouth out with soap.”
Kirstin nodded. “I rarely ever say it. I can’t even remember the last time. I guess that startled me.”
Just then there was a tremendous boom, and from down below, rock and debris flew up into the air. The people cheered wildly.
With her mouth open in surprise, Kirstin looked at her brother. “Was that the black powder blowing up?”
“Ja. What do you think?”
She shook her head. “Uff da.”
Ilian was more than a little nervous to have his father handling the kegs of black powder. He knew Far was good at most anything he put his hand to, but the dangers were worrisome, and he couldn’t move as fast as he once could.
Getting around with the use of his cane, Ilian watched the procedure from the deck of the Ishpeming. Far had insisted it was the perfect place for a man with an injured leg to watch and wait.
A part of Ilian felt a great sense of frustration in being unable to do anything to help. Then there was a part of him that was still reeling from the information his father had shared. He’d been unable to think about anything else for more than a few minutes without the truth of his birth coming through to accuse him.
He was not Habram Farstad’s son. He was Lars Nyberg’s child. His mother had committed adultery and lied to him about the good man she’d married. She had destroyed any hope of happiness with her actions, yet Habram Farstad would have taken her back at any time and wiped the slate clean, because he loved her.
And he loved Ilian. It was without a doubt the most humbling thing Far could have said to him. Ilian didn’t deserve his love. Especially after a lifetime of treating him badly. He had never honored his father, but instead had listened to lies his mother told. He had despised the man for the supposed pain and injustice he’d heaped upon them, only it hadn’t been that way at all. Far had saved his wife’s reputation. He’d given her grace when she had betrayed him.
Ilian shook his head and tried to refocus on where his father was at the moment. Danger was all around them, mingled with the excitement, and yet Ili
an could only think of his own problems.
“What am I to do with this?” he murmured.
He gripped the side rail of the boat. What could he do? He couldn’t very well go back to Sweden and meet his real father. That would bring definite shame to his mother’s memory. His aunts still lived there, as well as a few cousins and others who might face heavy retribution when the truth was known.
His father had never so much as confronted his mother about her indiscretions. They had talked of the rumors, but his father had chosen to believe only the best of his wife. And even when he knew the truth regarding Ilian, or at least suspected it, he had continued in silence, accepting Ilian as his own.
The dredge was working again to move great bucketfuls of wet soil. There wasn’t far to go before the bay and Lake Superior would be joined. Ilian glanced at the shoreline and saw the crowd continuing to grow. Groups of men had come down with their shovels and picks. No doubt they wanted to be able to say they had been a part of digging the canal.
Ilian had lost track of his father. He strained to see him through the vast sea of people. He made his way to Major John Upham, who was at the controls of the dredge. “Do you see my father?”
The major looked for a moment. “Can’t be sure. He’ll be setting that last blast in a moment.” He pointed to the chart on his desk. “See the mark? That’s where he should be.”
Ilian studied the map. He didn’t know exactly where the spot was, but knowing their objective, there weren’t too many choices. “I’d like to make my way to him.”
“I have to maneuver for the blast anyway. Let me get you closer to the floating dock.”
When the Ishpeming was close enough, Ilian made his way to the dock. It was an awkward move at best, and when he landed hard on his injured leg, he let out an unexpected groan. Thankfully no one seemed too interested in what he was doing.
Ilian made his way along the temporary dock and then onto the plank boards that had been laid to help navigate the muck. Men were busy working the ground and tossing up great shovelfuls of dirt. Ilian narrowly missed being hit as the work continued.
He moved past the crowds, surprised at how much the atmosphere had turned into that of a party. People were everywhere.
Finally, at the very end of the line on the last strip of solid ground before reaching the bay, Ilian found his father. He was working to get a keg of black powder into place.
“How can I help?” Ilian asked, approaching his father’s position.
“Nothing much left. This is going to open it all,” his father replied, looking up with a grin. “Let them bring their injunctions. Once the waters are flowing, nothing is going to stop Duluth.” He motioned to the growing crowd. “Get everybody back!”
Ilian nodded and hobbled up toward the first group of people. “We’re about to blow the powder keg. Everybody needs to get back.”
The people began talking all the louder and moving in accordance with Ilian’s direction. They only went so far, so Ilian pushed to get them back farther. “This is really going to be dangerous. You need to get back!”
They moved a few feet but were too excited to go farther.
Ilian bellowed at them. “You’re going to die if you don’t get back up on the road!”
This got their attention, and they scurried like rats deserting a sinking ship. Ilian heard his father laugh. It made him smile. Ilian wanted more for them than the misery and bitterness he’d known before.
Far moved up the muck toward Ilian at a quick pace, waving people away as he came. “It’s going to blow. Everyone get back.” He slipped in the mud and went facedown.
Ilian jumped forward. His leg ached, causing him immediate pain, but he didn’t care. He grabbed hold of his father and pulled him up. He nearly carried the older man the rest of the way to safety, but both men hit the ground when the blast knocked them forward. For a moment neither moved, and then Far began to laugh as though it were all a great joke.
Ilian pulled up into a sitting position and looked at his father. “What is so funny?”
“Ooh, there. I must’ve cut that one a little short.”
Ilian met his father’s humored gaze and smiled. “Maybe just a little.”
People were yelling and cheering so loudly by now that the two men could no longer hear each other. They got to their feet and saw what all the excitement was about. Lake water was flowing across the cut from the east while bay water did the same in the opposite direction. The waters were mingling freely. Duluth had her canal.
Ilian patted his father on the back. “Looks like you did it, Far.”
“It’s a good thing. We’ll be working on this for a long time to make it just right, but tomorrow we can celebrate in church and thank God for our new canal.”
“Ja.” He looked at his father with new eyes. “We can thank God for much.”
“Are you two all right?” Domar asked, reaching them before Kirstin or Lena did.
Ilian turned from his father and found the ladies looking quite concerned as they arrived. “We’re fine. Far cut the line a little short, and the blast went off before he expected it, but the ground broke our fall.” He grinned and tried to wipe mud from his face.
“You promised to be careful,” Lena scolded. “I say you should retire, now that your canal is dug, and marry me.”
Far’s eyes widened. “You are asking me to marry you? What a bold woman.”
Lena smiled. “Well, I’ve waited long enough for you to make up your mind.”
“Woman, I made up my mind a long time ago, but the good Lord told us both to wait. We had too much work to do first. Now all those things that troubled us so much have been resolved.” He knelt in the mud. “Will you marry me?”
Lena grinned. “Oh ja, sure. I’ll marry you, Mr. Farstad.”
Chapter 24
All of Duluth celebrated that night. It was quite the accomplishment to build a canal that opened their town to the largest of the Great Lakes, and everyone knew it would forever change their future. The neighborhood decided it was the perfect excuse for a smörgåsbord and laid out an outdoor celebration second to none. Despite the temperature being rather chilly once the sun set, Kirstin thought the party was exactly what they needed. In just a few weeks they would have to vacate this land, and even though many were rebuilding their lives in a new neighborhood, it wouldn’t be the same.
Bringing a big bowl of dilled potatoes to the table, Kirstin spied a group of men preparing to play music. This was something Mormor had talked about but Kirstin hadn’t yet experienced. One man with a violin pulled the bow across a string, and everyone began tuning up. It wasn’t long before six strong men brought a piano seemingly from nowhere. A short squat man Kirstin had only met once followed them with a stool. He sat at the piano and waited for the others to finish tuning their instruments. Then the little man ripped into the piano like he was searching for something. He played up and down the keyboard in a wild cacophony of notes that had everyone, even the old people, on their feet, clapping and dancing.
Kirstin found it very amusing and clapped in unison with everyone else. Mormor was soon at her side.
“Old Carl hasn’t played like that since losing his wife last year. We’ve missed his skills.”
“He plays so well. I never expected to hear such music.”
“We used to have music and dancing almost every Saturday,” Mormor declared. “We’d get together like this and eat and sing and dance.” Her face glowed at the memories. “Your morfar was not a dancing man, but even he would do a jig now and then when Carl played.”
“I like the music very much. I like it all,” Kirstin admitted. “Especially the way they’ve hung lanterns in the trees and along the fences. It makes it seem like a fairy world.”
“It’s the way we would celebrate in the old country.” Mormor continued to clap and smile as she gazed out across the party. “I shall miss it here, but I have a good feeling about our new home. Don’t you?”
Kirstin
nodded, although she wasn’t sure what the future might hold for her. She knew Mormor would have her stay with her and Morfar even after they married, but frankly she wanted her own home and life with Ilian. She didn’t mind if they all lived very close, as they had here in the neighborhood, but she wanted her own little house and the privacy a married couple needed to get to know each other. But she was getting ahead of herself. He hadn’t declared his love for her yet. She hoped that would happen—and soon.
With everyone focused on putting together the celebration, Kirstin hadn’t heard another word from her grandmother about marrying. Hopefully Mormor wouldn’t be offended by her curiosity.
“Mormor, when do you and Morfar plan to marry?” She figured the direct approach was best.
Her grandmother glanced over and smiled. “We figure to see what needs to be done to make it legal and then marry as soon as Pastor Persson can do the job. We aren’t going to have a big wedding—just a simple ceremony.”
“That sounds like you, Mormor. No frills. Just get the job done.”
“What about you, Kirstin dear? When are you and Ilian going to wed?”
“I have no idea if we are. I like to think we will, but he hasn’t asked me. He’s had much on his mind, as you well know,” Kirstin said.
“I do. Habram told me all about it, and I think you should give Ilian time to find his place again.”
“So what happened? What did Morfar say?”
Mormor shook her head. “It isn’t mine to tell. Ilian will surely let you know in time. Don’t worry.”
Kirstin always thought it silly when people told her not to worry. It merely reemphasized the fact that there was a reason to be concerned. She said nothing, however.
By now there were several older couples out dancing as the musicians continued to play. She looked around for her brother and Ilian but didn’t see either of them. Usually Domar could be found by the food table, so it must have been something important that took him away.
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