A Harvest of Hope

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Do you have a scarf to protect your face?” he asked. “You’re going to need it soon.”

  “I do. I just haven’t taken time to find it.” She’d just pulled her coat out of mothballs a couple days ago. When she turned her face, she could smell the odor. She should have aired it out. “I was on duty and couldn’t leave. How did the funeral go?”

  “Sad, but the Tent Town people gathered around Mrs. Rasinov and her children, as good friends do.”

  “I know how hard it was for my mother when my da died.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “It seems so long ago. Truth was just a wee one.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting your family.”

  “When will you meet them?”

  “At your graduation, if not before.”

  She stopped and turned to him. “Trygve, that is the second comment you’ve made that—”

  “That shows I am planning our life together?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “By the way, Tante Ingeborg agrees that we will be getting married.”

  She stopped and turned to him. “What is going on? Has the family voted or something?”

  “No. You know how I feel and the rest of them agree. That is all.”

  Miriam sucked in a deep breath and continued on. No, this family did not have to vote. They all knew each other completely. One day they would know Miriam as thoroughly, and she would know them.

  He began to whistle softly, a strange little tune. His sister and others all said he whistled when he was happy. But she had not revealed her change of heart yet. This was getting so confusing.

  “Oh look, all the children are coming to meet us.”

  “Great.”

  They were running down the lane and laughing. Emmy and Inga led the pack, of course. They seemed to be playing a game of tag, for when Inga drew abreast of Emmy, she swatted her and cried, “You’re it!”

  Miriam stopped again and turned to him before the kids met them. “What would you say if I agreed? If I admitted I love you?”

  “I’d shout hallelujah.”

  “Then you’d better start shouting before we get mobbed.”

  Trygve grabbed her around the waist and swung her in a circle. “Hallelujah! She loves me!” Then he stopped swinging and kissed her right there in front of all the children and the cows lined up along the fence.

  He was so unpredictable. What have I gotten myself into? A sense of peace settled around her heart and her mind. The right thing, the right season. The season to mourn was over, and the season to love was upon her. She had a feeling her family would be happy too. And if this thrill in her breast was joy bubbling up, she never wanted it to stop.

  Chapter 32

  I don’t want to do this. I truly do not want to do this. I can’t! Thorliff stared at his coffee cup.

  Across the table from him, John Solberg watched him. “I cannot make you do it. I cannot insist. I can only advise you of the right thing. The scriptural way.”

  “And I know you’re right. But, John, he’s not . . .” Thorliff sighed deep enough to air out his boots. “I can see that he’d feel uncomfortable with all the changes around here, with people who don’t have Norwegian roots or culture. Or religion. The times change, and Anner doesn’t want to. But when Astrid told me how that family was starving because he was demanding half their pay every week . . . I’m sorry. That’s criminal. Just plain criminal. He should be in jail.”

  “Do you want to call in Clyde Meeker? If it’s criminal, the sheriff is the person to handle it. Of course, it could be that the Munros simply misunderstood.”

  What a dilemma! Thorliff’s thoughts were bouncing off walls in his head, all tangling in each other. “Right now, Anner doesn’t like anyone associated with the Bjorklunds. He doesn’t like anyone who goes to the ‘wrong’ church or speaks the ‘wrong’ language. Certainly not Father Devlin or the like. If I went over to the bank to talk to him, who would go with me? I can’t trust myself to be nice to him. The last time we were face-to-face, I nearly punched him.”

  “I was thinking the dentist, Arthur Deming. He doesn’t have a dog in this fight, so to speak. He’s a neutral observer, but he attends our church. And I would go along gladly.”

  Thorliff grimaced and wagged his head. How could he ever do this?

  John said gently, “I understand, Thorliff, but Matthew eighteen is clear. You confronted Anner, and he refused you. The next step is to talk to him with a couple brothers present. If he still won’t listen, we take it to the church. Jesus did not mention the sheriff, you know.”

  “I know.” Thorliff lurched to his feet. “I guess I just have to do it.”

  John stood. “Thank you. I appreciate how hard this is for you.”

  Thorliff slogged along behind John to the hospital to the dentist’s office, his heart even heavier than his feet.

  Maybe Arthur Deming would be busy with a patient. Thorliff hoped. But no, the dentist had no patient in his chair. The receptionist, one of the wives from Tent Town, confirmed that there were no appointments in the next hour. Yes, Arthur said, he knew about the dissension, and he’d be glad to help out any way he could. Thorliff was doomed. At least that’s what it felt like.

  The three walked to the bank.

  What is wrong with me, anyway? Thorliff wondered. He tried to imagine his father disliking a man this much, any man. He could not. Haakan had depended on prayer and common sense. He’d tended to see only the best in people, although toward the end of his life, he was a little more negative. But being negative and wanting to punch a man were two very different things. Thorliff must put aside his own thoughts and adopt his father’s.

  He doubted he could. He’d never felt this way about anyone in his entire life.

  The sky had clouded over, and a brisk breeze was starting. The gray chill reminded Thorliff all over again that the new housing must be finished soon. And Anner stood in the way. Thorliff found himself detesting the banker even more.

  The one cage had a teller in it today—Mr. Odell—and he had no customers. The safe stood open, as usual. Everything seemed so normal. Except Thorliff. He was all churned up.

  John rapped on the office door, and Anner called, “Come in.” The three entered.

  “Hello, John,” Anner said. Then he froze when he saw Thorliff and Deming, and his face turned from pleasant to angry, instantly.

  “Hello, Anner.” John sounded relaxed and friendly.

  Anner stood up. “If this is another inquisition—”

  “Nothing of the sort. There are problems with financing in town here, and we’d like to sit down with you to work them out.”

  “I do not negotiate with men who would threaten me.” Anner glared at Thorliff.

  “I apologize.” It killed Thorliff to say that, but he knew it was the right step. “I apologize for losing my temper.”

  “May I sit down?” John motioned toward a chair. He did not wait for Anner to say yes. He sat.

  There was only one other chair in the room, so Thorliff stepped back to give it to Dr. Deming.

  John’s voice purred. “Anner, Garn Huslig told me that he came to you for cash to clean up the elevator mess, and you refused him the loan.”

  Thorliff gasped. He had not heard about that.

  Anner sat down. “Prudence, John. It is not prudent to loan a substantial amount of money to a man with no collateral. Mr. Huslig’s collateral, the elevator and its contents, burned.”

  “But that is why he needs the money.”

  “I repeat, prudence. If he had hired a reasonable night man, he wouldn’t need the money, the fire would not have happened, and we’d still have our year’s harvest of wheat. So it’s his fault! By hiring that worthless Nordstrund, he showed his true colors. Imprudence.”

  “I find that rather uncharitable, Anner. I’m sorry.”

  Anner raised his voice. “I am paid to protect the financial interests of this town. I’m doing it. Now, I beg you, John,
to take care of spiritual matters and leave the financial matters to me.”

  A wicked thought slammed into Thorliff’s head. Could it be? He turned on his heel and walked smartly out into the bank lobby. He climbed over the little wooden fence that divided the lobby where customers came from the part where the bank’s officers operated.

  Behind him, Anner screamed, “Get out of there, Bjorklund! Now you’re going to rob the bank?” He charged out of the office, the other two behind him.

  Thorliff stood in the doorway of that thick safe. He had to duck to look inside. He scanned the shelves, then stepped inside to look more closely. He turned away and came back out. “There’s no cash here, Anner. Usually you keep a few stacks of bills handy. There has always been cash here.” He pointed. “Right there. The shelf is empty.”

  “I moved it. I—”

  “And that shelf there is empty. Where is all our money, Anner? Not in the safe.”

  “Bjorklund, I do not answer to you!”

  John was keeping his voice soft. “But you do answer to the citizens who hired you. We also came to talk about the Munros, Anner. Their baby was starving while you recovered his debt. I want to hear your side of that.”

  Thorliff was furious now. More than furious. “How many more people are you gouging when they borrowed money? Where is the cash?”

  Arthur Deming held up his hand in a gesture asking them to stop. “Wait! The conversation is becoming too heated. Anner, how about you go sit down with John in your office, and Thorliff and I will wait outside? You two can iron out the problems better without us.”

  That was certainly not the way Thorliff wanted the meeting to go, but John was nodding enthusiastically. “Good idea, Arthur.”

  No, it was not a good idea at all! Thorliff was putting Anner on the carpet and John and Deming were getting him off it. But what could he say?

  Thorliff let Arthur lay a hand across his shoulder and lead him outside. “Deming . . .”

  Grinning, Dr. Deming headed for the alleyway. He murmured, “His window’s open.”

  Of course. Anner’s office window was open six inches. Thorliff had not noticed that. Silently, they moved up until they were close to the window. They could hear everything.

  Not that Thorliff wanted to. Listening to Anner only made him more furious.

  Anner was practically shouting. “John, Munro is one of those foreigners. He misunderstood. That’s all.”

  “I doubt that. He speaks the king’s English, literally, and if he says you threatened him with deportation, I tend to believe it. He is terrified of you.”

  “I will husband the bank’s money. I will—”

  “But making money unethically never pays, Anner. It’s like the Haggai Scripture says: ‘He that earneth wages earneth wages to put it into a bag with holes.’ The bank cannot prosper unless you maintain the highest ethics.”

  “There is nothing unethical here! John, you can’t trust them, any of them. They’re all dirty foreigners! They’ll steal you blind if you let them! I was just getting the bank’s money back before they skipped town or reneged or something! You know I wouldn’t do that to somebody local.”

  John’s voice now sounded just plain sad. “How many, Anner? How many loans have you made to the Tent Town workmen?”

  “A couple. That’s all. A couple.”

  “If I or someone else asked for a cash loan just now, could the bank provide it?”

  Silence.

  Thorliff stared at Arthur. Arthur stared back.

  Then Anner said quietly, “No.”

  “Anner, I’m beginning to see that you are so desperate to get some cash that you will go to any lengths. Unethical lengths.”

  “Not unethical! I just told you—”

  “Unethical. If, as you say, you would not treat a local borrower thus, you know it is unethical. Anner, believe me. I am not here to judge or condemn. I’m here to work out a solution.”

  Anner sounded impatient. “There is no solution, John. Can’t you get that through your head? The money in this town has completely dried up.”

  “Back when we set up the charter, we agreed to hold ten thousand in reserve against an emergency. The fire was an emergency.”

  “It’s gone. Invested in properties and instruments that did not bring the return I was hoping for. I expected returns by now that would replenish our resources. You cannot just build, build, build with no cash coming back in, as from rents. And now, with the whole wheat crop lost, the situation is even more dire. There is no money.”

  “So what is Blessing going to do?”

  “Trying to put her banker on the spot is certainly not the answer.”

  “I am not trying to put you on the spot. I’m trying to—”

  “Well, you’re doing a mighty fine job of it!” Anner’s voice was rising. “I do the best I can, and everyone’s against me. I see no reason to continue this charade when I don’t have the backing of the people who hired me.”

  Thorliff heard a jangly clattering.

  Anner roared, “Here are the keys! Find yourself a banker who can make money appear out of nowhere!”

  A door slammed.

  Thorliff watched Anner stride down the street to his house and slam the door as he went inside. Now what to do? The three men gathered on the front porch of the bank, all looking a bit stunned.

  “I never dreamed this would happen.” Thorliff kept shaking his head.

  “I say we adjourn to the bank office. I think we need to keep things as normal as possible.” John Solberg led the way.

  “Reverend Solberg?” Hans Odell caught their attention. Thorliff vaguely remembered Hans had been working as a teller for the last few years on a part-time basis.

  “Yes, Hans.”

  “I . . . I couldn’t help but hear.”

  “I know, probably you and half the town.”

  “Could I speak with the three of you?”

  “Of course. Come on in.”

  Once in the office, Mr. Odell set his cash drawer on the desk. “I have a hundred fifty dollars here. While there are no bills on the shelf, we have some cash in another place—started doing that after the robbery. I’m not sure how much is in it right now, but every other evening the Garrisons bring in their receipts, as do Penny Bjorklund and Sophie Wiste. We do have businesses here that will provide more cash. There is money due the flour mill. You know Daniel Jeffers runs his accounts through here too. It isn’t like we are totally insolvent, just cash poor at the moment.”

  “We all bank here. As cash comes in, we will put it in the bank.”

  Mr. Odell cleared his throat, hesitating. “You know, Mr. Valders did a good job with investing Blessing money for a long time.”

  “But he got greedy?”

  The white-haired man nodded. “He didn’t do it for himself.”

  “Thank you, Hans.”

  “I think we can keep the doors open so the town does not panic. Stay open as usual.”

  “And you can manage this?”

  “Ja, I think so. I can do daily records, but I have always been only a bookkeeper, not a banker.”

  “Do you know the combination to the safe?”

  “I do.”

  Reverend Solberg smiled. “Then, Mr. Odell, I submit that you are now a banker.” He laid a hand on Mr. Odell’s shoulder. “You know the bank. You know Blessing. We would not ask you to take over if we did not have every confidence you can do it. You are a man of common sense.”

  Hans Odell seemed to stand a bit straighter. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Now, gentlemen, I suggest we do as Hans suggests and proceed normally as much as possible.” Reverend Solberg looked to Thorliff and Arthur. He handed the keys to the teller, who pocketed them and left to take care of a customer announced by a tinkling bell.

  Thorliff stared at Solberg. “How are we going to pull this off?”

  “By the grace of God, as always.”

  Chapter 33

  Grandma?”

  I
ngeborg looked up from the sewing machine and smiled at Inga. She knew that tone. “What do you need?”

  “Did you know my ma is going to have a baby and that is what is making her big around the middle?”

  Ingeborg nodded and kept on stitching the seam, her feet pumping the treadle without her concentrating.

  “So do the babies come out in people like the calves do from the cows?”

  Oh Lord, give me the right words. She nodded again. “What has your ma told you about this?”

  “Not a thing!” Her forehead wrinkled in a thundercloud. “I figured it out.”

  “Really? Wouldn’t you like to go find Emmy?”

  “She’s helping Freda. Thelma just keeps saying, ‘Wait until you are older.’ What does that mean? Or, ‘You go ask your ma.’” The little girl threw her hands in the air. “How am I supposed to learn things if no one wants to teach me?”

  Ingeborg stopped her stitching and drew her granddaughter into her embrace. “Some things just have to wait until we are older to understand.” She laid her cheek on Inga’s head.

  “So will this baby be all wrinkled and squally like Rebecca’s baby? Benny thought he was okay, but I thought he was kind of ugly, and all he could do was cry and mess his diapers. How come human babies aren’t cute like the chicks and calves?”

  “I think they’re cute. And they get cuter as they get older.”

  “True. Benny’s baby brother can laugh and play now. He can crawl too, and Benny takes him for rides on his wagon. At least in the house. His ma says it is too cold outside for the baby now.”

  Ingeborg steeled herself for the questions she could see coming.

  “How come God gave all the animals a winter coat, and we have to put on warmer clothes and babies have to be so wrapped up and—”

  “You ask good questions, Inga. I don’t know why God did what He did. But I am sure He knows. And has a good reason.”

  “But—”

  “How would you like to help me bake cookies?”

  “Gingerbread men?”