From This Day Forward

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Just a minute, I’m going to get the rifle.”

  “Why?”

  “Freda suggested it, and her hunches are often right.” She rode to the house, and Freda met her at the gate with scabbard and rifle—and a decidedly un-Freda-like grin.

  They followed the trails caused by moving machinery from place to place to the end of the Bjorklund land, edged on both sides by fields of waving wheat. To the north, cottonwood trees lined the Little Salt River as they did the Red, along with oak and brushy thickets. Ingeborg pointed to the west, where the river bent to the south.

  “Over there in that dip. You can hardly see it from here, but there used to be wild strawberries, which are far sweeter than ours in the garden.”

  “I don’t see how they can be sweeter.” Inga shook her head. “The ones in Thelma’s garden are blooming, even.”

  “Ours too. But what if these are already ripe?”

  They topped the bit of a rise and stared down into the miniature valley, lined with tiny white blossoms in the midst of deep green leaves. The growing grass shaded the plants. Ingeborg dismounted and led Jack over to a low branch, where she tied him. The girls did the same, and the three of them stepped carefully among the low-growing plants.

  “They’re so tiny.”

  Ingeborg knelt down and moved the leaves, searching for ripe berries. “Here’s one.” She picked it and held it out on her palm so they could see. “If there is one, there have to be more. As soon as we find two more, we can eat them together.”

  Emmy found the next two and handed one to Inga.

  “On three.” They counted to three together and popped them into their mouths at the same instant. Ingeborg closed her eyes, the better to savor the flavor. “I don’t think there are enough ripe ones to take back, so I suggest we just pick what we find and eat them.”

  And so they did. When the sun got hotter, they left the berry search and went to join the horses in the shade. Sharing drinks of water and cookies, they looked out over the prairie, now dotted by houses and barns, trees and windmills.

  “Whose land is this?” Emmy asked.

  “I’m not sure any longer.” Ingeborg lay back, propping herself on her elbows. “Look up. What do you see?”

  “Clouds,” Emmy, ever practical, answered.

  “But don’t you see the dog’s head over there?” Ingeborg pointed to the west.

  Inga squinted. “It makes me think of those puppies.”

  Uh-oh, Ingeborg thought. “You already have a dog. Scooter wouldn’t like any wild puppies coming to his yard.”

  “Scooter is getting old and fat. And grumpy. Roald was pulling his ears and he snapped at him.”

  “Did he bite?”

  “Nope, but Roald cried anyway. Thelma picked him up and kissed his fingers.” She was quiet for a moment. “I sure miss Ma. And Pa is never home, so I’m glad I can come to your house, Grandma. Our house has sad eyes.”

  “Grandma, look,” Emmy whispered, staring off to the west.

  Ingeborg caught her breath. A deer came up from drinking at the river, the antlers on his head announcing his sex. A doe followed him, along with a small deer.

  Emmy whispered, “A fawn.”

  “How come they don’t know we’re here?”

  “The wind is from the west, so we are downwind of them. See him sniffing the air?” Ingeborg stared at the rifle in the scabbard. They could use the meat. The buck looked to be in good shape, not skinny from lack of forage in the winter. If she waited any longer, it might be out of range. She laid her finger on her lips and eased over toward Jack. Carefully she stood and slid the rifle free. Taking the safety off, she stayed in the dappling shade of the trees, looking for a good shot.

  The buck froze, and the fawn disappeared. Ingeborg zeroed in with the sights and squeezed the trigger. The buck dropped to the ground and the doe disappeared into the thicket. Inga groaned.

  Emmy seemed happy. “Good shot, Grandma. Maybe we can dry some of the meat. Do you think I could have the hide?”

  “Of course, if you want. You two stay here with the horses and I’ll go take care of him.”

  She’d done it! Dropped him with one shot. Rifle in hand, she pulled the knife out of the pocket on the scabbard and walked carefully toward the deer. She nudged him with her shoe, but when he didn’t move, she bent over and slit his throat to bleed him out.

  “Emmy, Inga, would you two ride home and find Andrew, ask him to come help me dress this carcass out?”

  “Can’t I stay with you?” Inga asked.

  “No, not this time. You tell him to bring a wagon.”

  “We could dress it,” Emmy said.

  “I know we could, but this will be faster.”

  She watched as the girls climbed aboard Joker and loped off toward home. Jack opened his mouth and nearly split her eardrums with his honking bray.

  “I know, you’d much rather go home with them.”

  Wishing she had sharpened the knife, she went ahead and gutted the beast, laying the heart and liver on the bag that had carried their cookies. Her stomach rumbled. Cookies and strawberries didn’t do a lot to fill one up. The sun was flaming toward the horizon when Jack brayed again, this time welcoming the coming team.

  She could see two men up on the wagon seat and the girls in the bed behind.

  “Land sakes, Mor. Let you go looking for strawberries and you bag a deer.” Andrew halted the team, and he and Manny climbed down. Andrew stared down at the bled and gutted deer. “He’s a big one.”

  “One shot. Grandma only fired one shot.” Inga grabbed one of the antlers and grinned at Ingeborg. “See, Onkel Andrew, I told you so.”

  “That you did.” Andrew looked around. “What did you do with the guts?”

  “Threw them over the bank for the scavengers. I think he bled out pretty well, even if I couldn’t hang him.” Ingeborg looked over at Manny, who was shaking his head. “What?”

  “Are we gonna have fried liver for supper?”

  “Freda was going to stew that chicken.”

  “She didn’t know we’d have liver.”

  “Get that pole from the wagon, Manny,” Andrew said. “We’ll tie his feet round that and hoist him up in the wagon.”

  Ingeborg chose to ride Jack on home, loath to leave the joys of the day behind. Riding, time with the girls, eating strawberries, and bringing home fresh meat. What a day! They’d share some of the meat, smoke the haunches, and let Emmy tan the hide. What a thank-you-Lord day.

  While Manny and Andrew hung the carcass in the barn to skin it out, Ingeborg helped the girls unsaddle and left them brushing the horses down while she took the liver and heart up to the kitchen. “I brought something different for supper.”

  “You really did shoot a deer?” Freda glanced at her with slightly raised eyebrows.

  “Yes, and thank you for reminding me to take the rifle. I have a feeling you meant it more for protection, but when that buck strutted out from the river, I couldn’t resist trying.”

  “You haven’t lost your shooting skills.”

  “He wasn’t that far away, but we were downwind and shaded by branches. Even the horses were quiet until Jack announced his displeasure at being left behind. I’m surprised you didn’t hear him.” While they talked, Ingeborg rinsed the liver and heart in cold salt water. “We can have the liver tonight and stuff and bake the heart tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Jonathan rang and wants you to call him back.”

  “He didn’t say what he wanted?”

  “No, but it sounded like something was wrong.”

  Ingeborg frowned. “Where’s Clara and the baby?”

  “Out in the garden. She hung the sling in the shade so she could use the hoe while Martin naps.”

  “Between her and the girls, we’ll have the best tilled garden anywhere.”

  Ingeborg went to the oak box on the wall and asked the operator for the Gould residence. Jonathan had set up an office in his and Grace’s house so he
could spearhead building the addition to the deaf school. All the plans were drawn, but he was hoping his father could come and be there for the ground-breaking ceremony.

  When he answered, Ingeborg apologized for not calling sooner.

  “Is it all right if I come over to talk with you?” he asked.

  “Of course. Any time.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Ingeborg stared at the telephone for a bit after setting the earpiece back in the prongs. Something was wrong, she could tell by his voice. “We’ll be out on the porch,” she told Freda.

  She poured two glasses of raspberry swizzle, made from canned raspberries from last summer, and set a plate of the sour cream cookies on the tray. She’d just set the tray on the low table on the porch when Patches announced that company had arrived. She watched the tall young man bend over and ruffle the dog’s ears, then stand again as if carrying a heavy load.

  “Welcome, Jonathan. What’s wrong?” She handed him a glass and pointed to the chair next to her rocker.

  “You are too perceptive.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then released a breath that spoke of heaviness. Iced glass between his hands, he looked at her. “My mother died last night.”

  “What? I mean, oh Jonathan, I am so sorry.” She reached for his hand. Oh, my dear friend David, to lose another wife. And so surprising as this.

  “I think I am in a state of shock. According to my father she wasn’t sick and it wasn’t an accident. She died in her sleep. Father said he went in to see why she was still in bed and she was lying there, peaceful as could be. I’ll catch the morning train; they’ll hold the funeral until I can get there.”

  “How is your father?”

  “He sounded businesslike, but the catches in his voice told me he was trying to keep things together and to deal with all the things that need to be done. I know he would prefer that only family and close friends attend the funeral, but she . . . she did a lot of philanthropic things for the city and was active in society. I am sure it will be a big affair.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s one reason I live here, to be away from all those expectations. I’m like my father in that way.”

  “Except you left that life entirely.”

  “Except when we needed money for the school. Mother worked to get donations for us.” He leaned back in his chair. “She was very good at raising money for good causes. As long as she didn’t have to get her hands dirty.” He swallowed. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

  Ingeborg could hear behind his words. His mother had not been as gracious as she could have been to Grace, especially before their wedding, but afterward too. While she did come to Blessing for the wedding, she left immediately afterward, and then threw a huge reception for them in New York. Grace and Jonathan had suffered through it with all the grace and patience they could muster. Grace had told her about it after they returned home. They made biannual visits out east to visit the Goulds, but Grace was always so relieved to return to Blessing.

  Jonathan shook his head slowly. “I really don’t want to go.”

  “I can tell. But you and Grace will go and do all the proper things to honor her memory, and then you can come home again.”

  “Mother wanted grandchildren, and here she died before we could tell her our news.”

  “Grace is with child.”

  “You say that like you know. Did Astrid tell you?”

  “No, Freda did. After the last Sunday dinner here. She and Thelma both have this sense that recognizes the signs often before the woman herself knows for sure. I don’t have that sense so acutely, but I trust them when they say so.”

  “And here we were waiting until Sunday dinner again. And now we won’t be here for it. Grace is sad to miss the girl party too. She’s been looking forward to the get-together.”

  “I love that they still call it a girl party. It’s so many years since they were young girls. They’re the daughters of Blessing in my mind.” They sat in silence for a while.

  “How come your house always feels so peaceful?”

  “I imagine because the Lord of peace lives here. And He fills our house and hearts with His love.”

  “I imagine so.” He took her hand in his. “Thank you for helping me think straight.”

  “You’ve forgiven her then?”

  “A long time ago, between you and John Solberg, I learned I had to. But this brought up a lot of feelings again. I was pretty angry with her for a long time. But now I’m sad that she won’t get her wish to see this baby and for my father. I know he loved her, and they had a good marriage. I guess. I’m hoping he will come out here and spend some time. He has trained my brother to take over all his business affairs, and besides, with telephones and telegraphs, it’s easy to stay in contact. So many modern inventions.” He drained his glass and stood up. “Again, thank you.”

  “Go in peace, Jonathan. Home will be waiting for your return.”

  “I have a lot to do here.”

  “You do. You have a foot in both worlds. Farming and construction and then who knows?” She wrapped her arms around him. “Tell Grace we will all be praying for you both.”

  “Her mother said the same thing earlier today. She says becoming a grandmother is such good news.” He hugged her back and headed for home, walking straighter, as if he’d left the load behind.

  “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. That was rather a shock. But you ordain the times. Help me not to take the days you have given me for granted.

  She looked out to see Clara pick up her baby. More babies coming. Would that her daughter, Astrid, would become one of the new mothers.

  Chapter 7

  Will you come with us to see them off?” Kaaren asked on the phone the next morning.

  “Of course I will.”

  Ingeborg was ready and waiting when the buggy stopped at the gate. Jonathan helped her up and then climbed up with Lars, who was driving.

  “Are you as all right as you can be?” Ingeborg signed to Grace.

  “We will get through this. You and Mor have taught us well.”

  “And Jonathan?”

  “I think he always hoped things could be made right with her, for my sake. But I did the best I could. I manage to carry on conversations with those who can hear . . .”

  “You do very well.” Kaaren signed also. Grace made herself speak to keep in practice, but signing was much more comfortable for her, and when she was in an emotional situation like a funeral, her speech was a bit more difficult to understand.

  Lars stopped the buggy right beside the platform between the station and the tracks. A water tower with a long swinging arm filled the boilers with water going both east and west. They could hear the train whistle coming from the west.

  “I already have our tickets,” Jonathan said after he assisted Grace down from the buggy.

  “And here is a basket of cheese, bread, and cookies to tide you over, in case you don’t feel like going to the dining car.”

  “Takk, Tante Ingeborg,” Grace said when she kissed Ingeborg. “I know you both will be praying for us.”

  “I’m sorry you will have to miss the girl party.”

  “Me too. We’ll just have to have another one when I get back home. And yes, I will visit the deaf schools there, and no, I will not agree to teach either students or teachers. If they want to know how we do things here, they’ll just have to come see.”

  As the train screeched to a stop and the steam billowed out around the wheels, Lars and Kaaren hugged the young couple. “Now you take care of yourself,” Kaaren admonished her daughter. “Some things might not set too well, you know.”

  Grace smiled her gracious smile and hugged Ingeborg. “Take care of Mor, will you please? Get her away from the house and school. Ilse can manage just fine.”

  Ingeborg nodded. “I will try, but you know your mor.”

  The three of them waved after Jonathan and Grace climbed onto the train and found a window on the car to wave to them. When the train pic
ked up speed beyond the edge of town, they turned away.

  “I think a soda would be a good thing right about now,” Ingeborg said, “and then I have some things to pick up at Penny’s. So I will walk home later.”

  “So do I. So Lars, do you need to get right home or . . .”

  “I heard the word soda. After that I can go talk with Thorliff while I wait for you both.”

  They ordered their sodas and took them outside of the Blessing Soda Shoppe to drink in the shade of the oak tree Penny had planted years before. Rebecca had moved a couple of the tables along with chairs out for the summer.

  “Ah, what a treat,” Kaaren said with a smile after the first sip. She looked to Lars. “How come we don’t do this more often?”

  “Tell me how often I come to town.”

  “You’d think we lived five miles away instead of less than one.”

  Ingeborg swirled her glass. “Strange, isn’t it? You know, the young chicks are having a girl party; I think we need an old hen party—other than Sunday dinners when everything is just too crazy for much real visiting. Let’s see, you and me and Amelia, Mary Martha, and Penny.”

  “What about Mrs. Odell and Mrs. Magron? They’ve been around forever too.”

  “Of course. I hate to leave out the newer ladies but . . .” Ingeborg shook her head. “And you know how quickly everyone hears the news. No matter what we do, there are bound to be hard feelings. I know, let’s just tell everyone we’re having a lunch for all the ladies at my house, and whoever comes, comes. Young ones, older ones . . . Everyone can bring whatever they want to share for the meal.”

  “Fine with me. When?”

  “A week from Tuesday. Noon. There’s no canning to do yet, and no haying. We can set up the tables outside or even along the porch. I just ask that . . . no, they just come.”

  “Maybe this would be a good time to start brainstorming about how to raise funds for the addition to the primary school,” Kaaren said.

  “And for building a new high school,” Ingeborg added.

  “Good. We’ll have some fun just being together, but we’ll come up with some good ideas too. We can start by telling Penny. She’ll spread the word.”