We are looking forward to spring. The winter has been hard, with a lot of sickness going around. Am I getting old that I am more aware of that? Our pastor died of pneumonia this winter, and we have yet to find a new one. We are learning that not too many want to come out here on the northern plains and shepherd three small churches.
I am still hoping that we can come to visit you one of these days, since I never made it to Blessing. God most certainly does work in strange ways, His wonders to perform. This winter I slipped on the ice and had to stay off my foot for several weeks, so that gave me more time to think on the years gone by.
I pray all is well with you and yours, and I hope you do not copy me and write so seldom.
From a distant
family member,
Augusta Bjorklund Moyer
She handed the letters to Thorliff when he came in. “You can read these at home if you’d like. You still have time for coffee, right?”
“Ja, I will take time. The Norway letter—someone is coming?”
Ingeborg nodded, cocked her head while she listened, and headed for the parlor. Sure enough, Clara was awake and shaking hard enough to make the cot rattle. “Shh, all is well. Thorliff, my son, brought the mail and is having coffee.” While she spoke, Ingeborg leaned over to take her patient’s hands in hers. “Settle down. You are safe here, I promise. You need not be afraid. I am going to bring you some bread and cheese. I think you can eat that without needing to sit up.” She felt like she was calming one of the animals that could not talk back. But the fear that slowly leaked out of Clara’s eyes near to broke her heart. How horrible to be so terrified. “I’ll be right back. Soon you’ll be strong enough to join us at the table and enjoy a real meal for a change.” She gently stroked Clara’s hair back from her face. “You are safe here, Clara. Always.”
CHAPTER 9
Ye’re an excellent teacher. Have ye considered going to school and becoming a certified teacher?” Thomas Devlin smiled at Anji.
“Thank you. But how would I leave the children behind and go to college?”
“Ah, true. But perhaps there be other ways. Mayhap an examination ye might take, a proficiency test. That used to be the way it was done.”
Anji studied the man leaning against the doorjamb of her classroom. The final bell had dismissed the students, but she had decided to spend some time correcting papers. She had required her students to write a few paragraphs about their families in Norwegian. With their limited vocabulary, they had struggled. Some had dropped in an English word when they were stumped, others had left a blank space.
“Besides, I do not really want to teach full time. I need to take care of my little ones.” By little ones, she meant Rebecca’s as well as her own. Anji made herself look back down at her papers. Thomas Devlin was mighty easy to look at. And to talk with. Laugh with. She’d come to look forward to their walks back to the house she shared with her sister and family. Soon Rebecca would be opening the Blessing Soda Shoppe for the season, and Anji knew she’d be needed to help there too.
“Will ye be ready to leave soon?”
“Ja, I am ready any time.” She started to gather her papers.
Reverend Solberg appeared at the door. “Thomas, could I talk with you before you go?”
“Of course.” Devlin smiled at her. “Be right back.” The man had a devastating smile.
“I’ll continue with what I am doing, then.” She listened to their shoes tap as they went down the hall to the principal’s office. The high school was not connected to the grade school, but the area separating them became a mud wallow in the spring. Right now snow was still banked in the corners with mud in the middle. Four classrooms, a library that had only a few books and some storage, and the principal’s office made up the high school. Returning to her papers, Anji caught herself shaking her head at times. Her students spoke better Norwegian than they wrote. She’d just finished, stacked the papers, and put them in the desk drawer to hand back the next day when Devlin stopped at the door again.
Anji gathered her bag, and by the time she walked to the coat pegs by the door, he was holding her coat for her. He rested his hands on her shoulders for a fraction of a minute, but still, the heat of his hands warmed her shoulders. Being treated with such care was easy to get used to. Those little gallantries were some of the many things she’d been missing since Ivar died. “Thank you,” she said over her shoulder with a smile. Looking up into his twinkling blue eyes made her catch her breath. Stop this, she ordered herself as they made their way to the front door. Thomas Devlin is a friend, a delightful friend, but that is all. Besides, you know he’s unavailable. Since when had her mind gone veering off in a romantic direction? It had not been two years yet since Ivar had died. So technically she was still in mourning, even though she had put off her widow’s weeds before she arrived back in North Dakota. Had she remained in Norway, that would not have been permitted. The thought of Ivar drenched her eyes. Grief was strange, attacking at odd moments, then running off again as if gleeful at the misery left behind. She dabbed at her eyes as she stepped through the door.
“Are you all right?” he asked, being too perceptive for her comfort.
After sniffing and forcing a nod, Anji paused on the south-facing steps and lifted her face to the sun. “Feel that. Still warm this late in the day.”
“According to John, we can expect another storm any day.”
“I know, the better reason to absorb as much of the sun as possible. I wonder what it would be like to live someplace where there was no snow in the winter.” She stepped down and nearly stumbled on the uneven ground. He took her arm and tucked it through his.
“The better to keep you safe.”
“Takk. This reminds me of how we used to go skating on a manmade pond out to Ingeborg’s. Oh my, the good times we had.”
“They don’t do that anymore?”
“Not since we all grew up. We need to start the tradition again for the children.”
“It would be easy to make a pond by the hospital.” Thomas nodded, obviously thinking hard. “Do people often skate down on the river?”
“It all depends on how smooth the ice is. When the wind blows while the river is freezing, it creates ice drifts. Too rough for skating.”
“Doesn’t seem to stop the ice fishermen.”
“Did you go ice fishing this winter?”
“No thanks. In the summer you fight mosquitoes, and in the winter the cold wind. Fishing around here separates the men from the boys.”
“And the boys being the intrepid fishermen?”
“Right ye are, lass. But then, I’ve never cared much for fishing anyway, after me experience out on Lake Superior. Now, that was a real experience. ’Twas a fine morning when I went out on a fishing boat with a captain and two crew. They netted fish, and I helped haul in the full nets. But a storm came rampaging out of the north, and when those waves came up, I was sure we were going down. Meself? I don’t have a big desire to repeat the experience.”
“You might try it here—no boats, no real waves, and—”
“And no fish?”
“Not true. We have perch, bass, and a northern pike or a muskie now and then. They taste mighty good, especially when Ingeborg does the fish frying. Sometimes they land catfish too. Fresh fish, right out of the river. I remember as a child I would go there with my brothers and Thorliff, and even Trygve, who was younger than the rest of us. Ingeborg loves to fish and would hunt more if propriety didn’t frown upon a woman using a rifle.” She paused. “Back in the early days Ingeborg wore pants, but after she married Haakan, she gave them up for him. I guess the men’s pants embarrassed him.”
Devlin looked down at her with a sly grin. “Would ye have worn pants?”
“If I were forced to do all that Ingeborg did—breaking sod, seeding, harvesting—I believe I would have. Milking cows would be far easier in pants too. In fact, all farm work would be easier. Gardening too.” They stopped when they reached the b
ottom of the porch. “Would you like to come in for coffee?”
“I think not today, but thank ye. Perhaps next time.”
She stopped on the porch and watched him stride down the walk to the gate, where he turned to smile at her and touch the brim of his hat.
“That is one fine man,” Rebecca said when Anji came through the door.
She paused as she hung up her coat and scarf and unpinned her hat to set it up on the shelf. “He is that.”
“I think he is sweet on you.”
“Nonsense. You know he is a priest—Reverend Solberg says that when he first came to Blessing he was wearing a clerical collar, though he does not wear one now.”
Rebecca snorted. “But not like priests in Norway, who do not marry. He’s a different sort. I forget the name, but he can marry and have dozens of children. Why, even John Wesley’s father was a priest.”
Anji’s heart gave a little bigger jump. Not unavailable after all? She hoped it didn’t show on her face. “We are just friends walking back together from our place of employment.” She stopped at the stove to rub her hands together over the heat. “I asked him in for coffee but he declined.”
“Hmm.” Rebecca gave her older sister a raised-eyebrow look.
“Don’t you go all hmm on me. Besides, technically I am still a widow, and you know the codicil in Ivar’s will. All funds will stop if I marry again. And I cannot raise the children on the small sum I receive for teaching.”
“Except for funds to return the children to Norway for visits,” Rebecca said. “Mrs. Moen has a rather diabolical streak, it seems to me.” She raised her hands. “I know, I know. Primogeniture is still the law there. But for the here and now, she is not making your life a whole lot easier, like she should.”
Anji knew she could not let her mind loose on the subject of her mother-in-law, so she chose to ignore her sister’s jibe. “What shift is Gerald on?”
“He’ll be home for supper at five thirty and then go back to work on his proposal for more services and schedules. For some silly reason he says he can’t get any work done here.”
A shriek from the parlor and Lissa charged into the kitchen. “Mor, Joseph pushed Swen down, and he is crying.”
“And you are being a tattletale. Tell him to come in here.”
“It was an accident,” Joseph said, running in to glare at Lissa. Swen followed him in.
“If you can’t get along, you’ll have to each stand in a corner. Now apologize.”
Joseph almost rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Fortunately, Anji had not insisted on sincerity.
“Me too.” Swen looked up at his aunt. “Can we go now?”
“Yes, you may.” She put the emphasis on the may. Now both boys did the eye roll, then turned and darted out of the kitchen. “I really didn’t mean to,” Joseph threw over his shoulder.
Anji and Rebecca gave each other mother looks and half shrugged. “Uff da.”
“I’ll be glad when spring comes to stay and they can be outside all the time again. I know I say this every winter, but by the time spring finally does decide to stay, I am chomping at the bit like a horse at the starting gate. I know the mud causes havoc for the farmers and anyone who has to drive a buggy or wagon. Or tries moving in it for any reason. Remember how Far used to come in and grumble about the cursed mud?”
“And Mor would say, ‘Remember, that cursed mud grows the finest wheat, corn, whatever we plant in it.’” Anji stared out the window. “Even after all these years, sometimes I miss her so I just ache.”
“Ingeborg says the same thing at times. They were such good friends.”
“Good friends like that don’t happen all the time,” Anji said. “They saw through a lot of hardships together. Who would you say is your best friend?”
“Besides you?”
“Ja. I’m your sister.”
“But still my best friend. I guess Astrid would be, but she is so busy, she doesn’t have time to spend with me.” She paused and studied the kettle she was stirring. “The four of us were so close, Astrid, Sophie, Grace, and I, and now, even though we live in the same small town, we are all so busy we rarely have a party or any kind of get-together with just the four of us. We need to do one again.”
“I’ll take care of the children.”
“Takk.” Nodding while she thought aloud, Rebecca continued. “I’m going to mention this to Sophie. She’s the best for getting things done.” She grinned at her sister. “Something to look forward to.”
“Will you call her or go see her?”
Rebecca shrugged, her eyebrows going up to match her shoulders. “Why?”
“I just think you should call her before you forget.”
“Why?”
“Because once the land dries out, every minute gets spent in the garden, readying the soda shop, getting the house readied for summer, all those yearly things. You need to get together sooner rather than later.” She held up her hands, flat palms out. “I know. It seems strange but just a feeling I have.”
“Feeling about what?”
“Mor, I’m hungry.” Swen stared up Rebecca.
“Supper will be ready in just a few minutes. Tell Gilbert it’s his turn to set the table. You can help too.”
After they’d eaten their whirlwind supper and the kitchen was cleaned up, Anji sat down in the parlor with the children on either side of her to read their nightly story. She took Gerald’s place on the evenings he had to work. She opened at the bookmarked place and, laying it open on her lap, clasped her hands, leaning forward. “Who can tell me what happened last night?” Swapping a smile with Lissa, she let the younger ones answer. Joseph had already finished reading the book to himself, since he was so impatient to know what happened next. “Good.” She let Annika climb into her lap and started to read. Joseph was nodding off, draped against her, so she was holding the book with one hand and using just the cramped fingers of her other to turn the pages, since the arm had long been asleep and now yielded pins and needles.
“And that is all for tonight.”
“Just a few pages more?” Annika asked hopefully.
“No. Bedtime.” Standing up with a child in her arms wasn’t easy, nor was carrying him upstairs to bed. Uff da, she thought. He is getting too big for this or I am getting too soft. I need the garden work as much as it needs me. After tucking the children into bed, listening to prayers, and blowing out the lamps, she made her way back down to the kitchen, where Rebecca was talking on the telephone.
“How does a cup of tea sound?”
Rebecca nodded and held up one finger. Obviously she was talking with Sophie.
Anji added wood to the firebox and water from the hand pump to the teakettle, and while that heated, set out the teapot and cups—a set she had brought from Norway several years before when they used to go back and forth yearly. She had given many of her household things to Rebecca, some of which were still packed in boxes until such a time as she had her own home again. They had just settled down to enjoy their tea when the back door opened and Gerald came in, his shoulders and hat dusted in white.
“Snowing again.” He hung his things by the door after a shake to dislodge the snow.
“Ugh. I was hoping we were done with winter.” Rebecca rose to fetch another cup. “We’re having tea, not coffee.”
“Just so it is hot.” He rubbed his hands together over the heat of the stove. “Toby is pushing for a decision on the house.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I really don’t want to move. We’d have to redo all the things for Benny, and this is closer to the soda shop.”
“Not that much. And the house is larger. I mean, who knows how many children the Lord is going to bless us with.”
“I know, but Anji already has four children.”
“But what about Toby if I move there? A man and a woman not married—in one house?” Anji shook her head as she spoke. “That will not do.”
“So marry Toby.”
She frowned
at Gerald. “Convenient lodgings is hardly a reason to get married. Besides, he hasn’t asked me and besides that, it would be like marrying my brother. No, that is not the solution.”
“Toby said if you want the house, he will go live at the boardinghouse until his house is finished. We talked about finishing his kitchen and a bedroom; then he can live there while he finishes the remainder of the house.”
“Are you two sure of this? After all, giving a house away . . .”
“We won’t be giving it away. We’ll keep it in our names, but you can live there. And no, you will not pay rent. It was a gift to us, so we can use it as a gift if we so desire.”
“But . . .”
“No.” He covered her hand on the table with his. “This is what it means to be family, at least here in Blessing, in our family. When would you like to move into your house?”
“We’ll all help you clean it,” Rebecca said with enthusiasm. “I’m sure the dust has seeped in and into everything. We can have a housecleaning party, just like raising a barn.”
Gerald shook his head. “Cleaning. I hadn’t thought of that. We’ll inspect the roof, though, and probably need to recaulk some places. Mor didn’t do much to keep the place up, I’m afraid, and Toby is working. The kerosene barrel most likely needs filling, and we need to check if there is enough coal for the furnace. Not that you will need to use that a whole lot longer.”
A house, a real house of my own again. I did not think that would happen. And it is even all furnished. Tomorrow she would go look at it with new eyes. It will no longer be Hildegunn’s house, but Anji’s house. Thank you, Lord, for your provision.
Streams of Mercy Page 9
