Andrew raised his plate. “You’re so right.” One of the cows bellowed as if on cue, making them all laugh.
“How come I wasn’t invited to the party?” Lars, on his way down to the barn, stopped at the first step.
“Didn’t see you out there, that’s why.” Andrew drained his coffee cup. “I’ll go let ’em in. Onkel Lars, you can have my seat.” He stood up and laid his empty dish aside.
“Takk, but I’ll go get milking. Someone has to take pity on the poor cows.” He ambled off toward the barn.
Trygve watched him go. Work. These men knew hard work, and the women did too, just as much. Would Miriam, a city girl, fit into this life of constant work?
She would, he was certain. She would be a fine addition to the family.
Now to convince her.
Chapter 7
Tomorrow she would be back in Blessing.
Miriam stared out at the blackness broken up by small towns and dotted by farms. Trygve’s last letter, which came just before she was to leave, said the wheat harvest was finishing and the threshing crew would disband. He said Ingeborg had “sad eyes,” as Inga called them. Tears were close to the surface for many in Blessing. Haakan was terribly missed.
Miriam leaned her head back against the seat. Oh, she understood tears. Would they ever cease? Would the hole in her heart eventually heal? On one hand, she knew it would, and on the other . . . But when? Mrs. Korsheski had reminded her that healing would take time, and hard work would help. Miriam knew the woman understood whereof she spoke. She had lost both mother and husband in the last couple of years. Her children were grown. She dreamed of going to visit them all one day, since many of them lived other places.
The thought of someday having children of her own reminded her again of the man who insisted he loved her. How could someone really know love as quickly as he’d said he did? With the clacking wheels, her mind wandered back to the early years when her father was still alive and they lived in a real house, not a tenement. Back to the days of laughter, with their father teasing his wife and throwing whatever child was a baby up in the air, and them all laughing. Laughing! Had the latter years killed the laughter, or was it the unrelenting poverty?
She, at least, had been ahead in school and was able to finish. But Tonio hadn’t. As each of them reached an age where they could find work that brought in money, they’d quit school. Now, finally, the two youngest ones were back in school. Now that Tonio and Mercy and Este had steady jobs so they could support the family. How could Mercy go into nurses’ training without finishing high school?
If I married Trygve, my family could come to Blessing, and they could all go to school. She slammed her head back against the seat. Where had that thought come from? That would be a terrible reason to marry a man. She could feel her drooping eyes widen and reminded herself to close her mouth. Glancing around at the other passengers near her, she was gratified to see no one was staring at her. She had a job promised at the hospital in Chicago. Then her younger sisters at least could go back to school.
But what about Mercy and Tonio and Este? Now guilt had names.
Go to sleep! Somehow her mind refused to obey the order and instead rampaged ahead. Blessing, the people there, the clean air, the hospital that was so in need of good help, the training of new nurses, the dreams of the Bjorklund women and others for the hospital and the town. A house of her own. That one stopped the parade!
She pulled the last letter out of her reticule again and held it up to the dim light. Trygve Knutson wrote a good letter, and he lived up to his word. He cared about the people around him. She could feel the grief. Haakan, Mr. Bjorklund, was a fine man. How was Ingeborg bearing up? Probably like she was. You do what you have to do and cry into your pillow.
At least in Blessing she would be as busy as she could handle. And then some.
Miriam and Mrs. Korsheski had talked about the little hospital and how she could help the most. Her mind drifted back to that conversation, safer than the visions of a certain broad-shouldered, very good-looking young man. Would he be at the train?
Oops, back to Mrs. Korsheski and their talk.
“We are dreaming that one day soon we can send our interns out there for experience also,” Mrs. Korsheski had said in her office the other day. “If we can develop that as a true arm of our hospital, our program will be so much more beneficial to both our doctors and our nurses. That Blessing hospital is going to need someone to run it, an administrator to take the burden off the doctors Bjorklund. I wish I could send one with you now.
“I’ve even thought of bringing Astrid’s mother, Ingeborg, back here to teach a few weeks on the uses of the ancient healing ways she is so versed in. Our medical world likes to think the new is always better, but I have seen too much to put all my confidence in the new.” She’d leaned forward in her chair. “Enough about my dreams. I have here some things for you to take with you—some for the hospital, and a packet for each of the Indian nurses. Dr. Bjorklund’s letter says their names are Dawn Breaking and Gray Cloud. Also, I haven’t had any reports from that hospital since you left, so when you get there, please let me know what has gone on.”
“I will.” The idea of adding to their fund of knowledge appealed to Miriam. During her time in Blessing, she had come to respect and admire Ingeborg and had gotten only a glimpse of her wisdom. “I think a lot about how quickly our young patient Manny healed. It was due in large part to Ingeborg’s dedication to both his mental and physical ability. You should have seen how she worked with him. He did not have time to lie around and feel sorry for himself. She made him work, and sometimes when I went in his room, he was dripping with sweat from his efforts. His muscles did not atrophy, as happens to so many with severe breaks and surgery like that.” She didn’t mention all the hours she had known Ingeborg and others spent praying for the boy, since she herself doubted the efficacy of prayer.
And she told Mrs. Korsheski, “I’m afraid I feel torn in two directions.”
“Oh, and how is that?”
“Between here and there.”
The train whistle blew and the train slowed for a stop, bringing her back to the present. She had actually voiced her concern to Mrs. Korsheski, when she’d not even admitted it to herself. What was it the nurse had said? Her exact words?
“You will do well either way. Or both ways. Sometimes we can have our cake and eat it too. And keep in mind that what God plans for you is far better than what you can plan for yourself.”
It was the last part she’d tried to put aside. Her mother had believed that too, and look what it got her.
An early trip to heaven to be with her beloved? What is so wrong with that?
But she had wanted to stay with her children. She’d heard her say so.
Tears flooded her eyes again. What had her mother seen, known, to be able to smile like that? Oh, Mama, I miss you so, and I sure do hope you were right about heaven. After the stop and two passengers had settled into seats, she wrapped her coat around her and, settling her head on the windowsill, fell into a light sleep that broke every time they stopped. She had known there would be many stops, but she’d never imagined there’d be this many.
Early Sunday morning she woke to find a little boy standing in front of her, staring. She shook herself awake and sat up.
“Bertie, don’t bother the lady.” The woman across the aisle smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, miss.”
“He startled me is all.” Miriam watched the boy throw himself against his mother’s lap, as if she’d scolded him, and then peer at her from his safe place. “How old is he?”
“Bertie is three. Show the nice lady how old you are.” The little man’s tongue came out and he stared at his hand, seeming to will his fingers to obey. When he got three up, he grinned at his mother. “Very good.” From the looks of the woman, it wouldn’t be terribly long before Bertie had either a new baby brother or sister in his life.
“Where are you going?”
“To Blessing, just west of Grand Forks, North Dakota. What about you?”
“We are going farther, to Bismarck. Have you been there?”
“No, Blessing is the farthest west I’ve been.” Not that she’d been east of Chicago either. “Will you be staying there?”
“Yes. Bertie’s papa is already there. He says I will love the town and the people. But I’ve never been away from my family before, and this is so far away.”
“From where? I mean, where was home?” She smiled at the little boy, which sent him burying his face in his mother’s skirt again.
“We live in Rochester, south of the Twin Cities. Or rather, we lived there.” She sniffed as if she were about to cry.
“Leaving is hard.”
Just then the whistle blew again, and Bertie covered his ears with both hands.
While his mother comforted him, Miriam looked out the window.
“Grand Forks. Next stop Grand Forks.” The conductor made his way through the car and stopped beside her. “Not too far to Blessing now, miss. You ever eaten at the boardinghouse there?”
“That is where I’ll be living.”
“Fine place, Blessing.” He wagged his head. “That little town sure is growing.”
Miriam watched him sway on down the aisle. Funny he should mention the boardinghouse. She wondered if the others had moved her things over to the new wing yet. Soon she would be there again. Was she feeling anticipation or dread?
Blessing did indeed come soon, as the conductor had promised. The train jolted and wheezed to a stop.
“Thank you for traveling with us, miss,” the conductor said with a smile as he helped her down. “I think there is a young man waiting for you.” He nodded over his shoulder. “I know him. Trygve Knutson. He’s a good man, a real fine young man.” He tipped his hat to her and reached back for her carpetbag. “You had a couple of larger boxes too, right?”
“Yes, sir. They went in the baggage car.”
“They’ll be unloading them with the other supplies for here.”
Miriam smiled back at the conductor and hoped she’d said thank-you. It was like her gaze was locked on the man coming toward her, and she found that she couldn’t look away. Smile, don’t smile. But her lips knew better than her mind as the smile stretched. He was even better looking than she’d remembered.
He stopped in front of her, his smile taking up his whole face. But about the time she thought he was going to lock her in his arms, just before she could take a step back, if she could take a step back, he nodded. “Welcome home.” Then he offered her his bent arm. “Let’s go make sure your other things are here.” Picking up her bag with the free hand, he strolled off with her as if they’d seen each other just yesterday.
The sigh she heaved came clear from her toes.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m just grateful to be walking on a floor that doesn’t move.”
He squeezed her hand against his side. “I was beginning to think you would not return, but my tante Ingeborg assured me that you had given your word and you would keep it.”
Be honest. “Actually, I tried not to come, but Nurse Korsheski would not allow it.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”
The burn started instantly. “Thank you.”
“The rest of your family is all right?”
“Yes. Sad, but I think since they saw our mother suffering more than I did, they were grateful she’s no longer suffering. I am too, but . . . I . . . I wanted more time with her. But not so terribly weak like she was.” She heaved another sigh. “There are no easy answers is one lesson I am learning.”
She pointed to the boxes piled to the side. “Those go to the hospital. They are medical supplies. I packed a couple of personal things in them, but I can get them when I go on duty.”
Why was it that whenever he looked at her, her heart rate picked up?
“Your things are all at the boardinghouse. Miss Nester packed them for you. They moved over early last week. Others wanted to come too. I think Miss Wells is on duty.”
She kept looking around, anywhere, so she wouldn’t have to look at Trygve. “Everyone in Blessing must be at church.”
“Well, not everyone. Dr. Elizabeth is not allowed to go anywhere. Astrid is afraid if she catches anything—”
“Is there something going around?” Their steps kept slowing as they neared the boardinghouse.
“Not that I know of. Oh, I nearly forgot. Tante Ingeborg has invited you to dinner at the farm.” He stopped. “Please. I know you are exhausted, but it would mean a lot to her.”
I just want to take a bath and go to bed.
He did not wait for an answer. “I’ll come back and get you.” Together they climbed the three steps to the boardinghouse porch. “I’ll take your bag to your room.” He opened the door and motioned her in.
“Why, Nurse Hastings, you’re back at last. How good to see you. Good morning, Trygve!” Mrs. Wiste came from behind the desk, her smile of greeting lighting the dimness of the vestibule.
Trygve was grinning too. “’Morning, Sophie. Where shall I put this?”
“The lady or the bag?”
“Both.”
Miriam was poised to be aghast at the banter when she remembered that Trygve and Sophie Wiste were brother and sister. Was that perhaps why she liked Mrs. Wiste so much? It was going to take some time before she got all the family connections in Blessing straightened out.
Mrs. Wiste led the way to the stairs. “Your room is all ready. The other two chose to share a room, but I hated to put three of you in together. Especially since you will all be on such different schedules. Will this be agreeable with you?”
“Of course, and thank you.” Miriam had to hurry to keep up. “I see they’ve gotten most of the outside done.”
“They have, and there is not a lot left to do inside anymore either. You nurses will be able to sleep during the day here now. At least I hope so. Neither of the others has lodged a complaint. Dr. Deming, the dentist, is in the same wing. Funny to think of wings here at our boardinghouse. Dinner will be at noon and supper is served at six. Breakfast starts at five thirty, so that should not be a problem.” Mrs. Wiste marched toward the end of the hall.
“There’s going to be a little hammering, though.” Trygve pointed upward. “The ceiling moldings aren’t in yet. I’ll try to finish that tomorrow morning.”
“Here we are.” Mrs. Wiste stopped. “Miss Wells and Miss Nester are in that room next to yours. They wanted to be here to greet you, but Mrs. Jeffers talked Corabell into accompanying her to church, and Vera is on duty.” She opened a door and stepped aside. “There are towels on your bed and a list of meal times on the door. You will have morning sun in your room. Here is your closet.” She opened a narrow door where Miriam’s aprons and extra things hung.
“They even unpacked for me. I am so touched. Mrs. Wiste, this is lovely. Look at the quilt and the braided rug, even a rocking chair and a dressing table. Are all the rooms like this?”
Trygve was grinning again. “Sophie, here, is very proud of her new addition, but I know she did some extra things for her nurses, as she calls you. Sophie has a very proprietary interest in anything to do with the hospital. As you will hear, she is forming a volunteer hospital society. I have a feeling the society will become a rival of the quilting circle. Or maybe not.” His grin made her smile back.
“We have a society like that in Chicago. They do a lot of good to help both the hospital and the patients. But in Blessing too?”
Mrs. Wiste was grinning as well. “Right. We will have a party when the boardinghouse is truly finished, and I have a feeling from the bits I’ve heard, it will in some way become ‘a benefit for the hospital.’ Those are the words you will hear bandied about.”
Miriam leaned closer and dropped her voice. “Do you think I could take a bath now, and then a nap?”
“Of course you can. There’s sufficient time for that. We have
shared bathrooms in this addition, so you and the other nurses will share this bathroom between your two rooms, not like down the hall.” She opened a second door. “This is your bath.”
“Oh my.” Miriam’s cheeks flamed. Now Trygve knew what she had asked.
Trygve half bowed. “As I said, things are changing here. Welcome home.” He paused at the door. “You will come to dinner? Please?”
Miriam could not refuse. “What time?”
“I’ll come for you at one.”
“If I am not downstairs, please send someone up for me.”
His grin nearly cracked his face. “Rest well.”
I sure hope I am not making a mistake. She wasn’t sure if that meant accepting the dinner invitation or agreeing to go with Trygve.
Chapter 8
Mor, are you sure you want to do this?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. “We can easily move dinner from your house to ours.”
“Astrid, I cannot live in a cocoon. Life needs to return to as normal as possible. So ja. I want everyone to come to my house like usual. It won’t be long before it’s too cold to be outside. Freda has chickens in the oven, and we made bread yesterday. Everyone will bring what they want, and we’ll have plenty of food and laughter. Besides, we need to welcome Miriam and the threshing crew back. Maybe we can even have a ball game.”
“All right. Amelia said you really wanted this, so I won’t say anything to change it.”
“You are coming?”
“Of course, unless there is an emergency. See you soon.”
Ingeborg hung the earpiece back on the prong and heaved a sigh.
“Astrid?” Freda asked.
“Ja. Life has to go on with whatever we can do to make it like always. Fall is here; winter will come. I will miss Haakan forever. Sometimes I will cry, and right now I thank God for laughter, even more than usual.” She looked over to Emmy, who was watching her carefully, her dark eyes so sober. Ingeborg opened her arms. “Come here, little one. Hugs are the best thing for sad eyes.” She hugged Emmy close. “Don’t you be worrying about me. We’ll just get through it all.”
A Harvest of Hope Page 6
