A Dream to Follow (31 page)

“We need to go.” Metiz stood in the doorway several days after the threshing crew left.

“Where?” Ingeborg turned from the jars of string beans cooking in the copper boiler. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Whew, this is hot.”

“To Agnes.”

Ingeborg untied her apron. “Did someone come for you?”

Metiz shook her head. “Just know.”

Oh, God, please let this be a false alarm. Please, Lord, don’t take Agnes
. And yet as she tied on a clean apron and her sunbonnet, she knew she didn’t want Agnes suffering any longer. Each time she’d seen her, she’d looked more of another world than of this one.

“Let me send Astrid over to Kaaren’s.” Outside, she shaded her eyes with her hand. The oxen were plodding back from the river, drawing the wagon bearing the barrels of water that kept the garden producing. Andrew and his helpers were laughing as they came. No matter how hard they worked, they always seemed to find something to laugh about.

“I’ll get the buggy hitched.” Ingeborg went to the fence and whistled. The grazing horses raised their heads, and when she whistled again, they ambled toward the barn. By the time she had a rope around one neck, Metiz had swung the gate open, then closed it as they passed through. Within minutes Ingeborg had the horse harnessed and backed into the shafts of the two-wheeled buggy Haakan had purchased at an auction south of town. Due to the drought, there’d been too many auctions, and always Haakan came home with items they didn’t need as much as the seller had needed the money.

She buckled the shafts to the belly band and threaded the lines back to wrap around the whip stock.

“Where you going?” Astrid came running across the yard.

“Metiz said we are needed at the Baard’s. Watch the clock. The beans will be ready to come off at ten.”

“All right. You want me to finish dinner?”

“Most likely. Go tell Tante Kaaren what has happened.”

Andrew ran up in time to hear the last instructions. “We’ll take care of things here, Mor. You needn’t worry about us.”

“Thank you, son.” Ingeborg stepped up into the buggy on one side, Metiz on the other. “I will send someone to let you know.” She clucked the horse forward and into a fast trot.

They turned into the Baard lane as young Gus came trotting out. “I was just coming to get you. Ma is asking for you.” Tears streaked his tanned cheeks.

“Jump in.” Ingeborg had stopped the horse to talk.

Metiz scooted over, and Gus climbed in. Before he sat all the way down, Ingeborg had the horse moving again.

“Tell me what’s happening.”

Gus sniffed and scrubbed under his nose with the back of his hand.

Shirtless, he wore his overalls with one strap unhooked. “She . . . she woke up so weak she could hardly talk. Anji tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn’t. Not even drink her coffee. After she slept again, she asked for you.” He hiccupped and looked out over the wheat stubble. “Is . . . is she going to die?”

“Only God knows that. We will do what we can.”

He leaped to the ground when they stopped at the gate to the yard. “I’ll take care of your horse.”

“Thank you.” Ingeborg and Metiz hurried into the house.

“She’s in the bedroom.” Anji, red eyed and sniffling, led them across the kitchen.

“How is she?”

“Sleeping.”

They stepped into the room to see Agnes still in her nightdress and lying so still Ingeborg caught her breath. Was she already gone? But moving closer, she could see the sheet move just slightly with the woman’s breathing. The thing that grew inside her mounded the sheet enough to look as if she were about to give birth.

“Can I get you anything?” Anji looked from Ingeborg to Metiz. “Hot water, cold water, coffee, anything?” Her voice cracked.

Ingeborg laid her hand on Anji’s arm. “Where is Joseph?”

“Out at the barn. He was here until a few minutes ago. The boys were too.”

“Let me listen. Is she running a fever?”

Anji shook her head.

Metiz sat on one side of the bed and Ingeborg the other. Taking Agnes’s hand, Ingeborg pressed gently.

Agnes’s eyes fluttered open. “You . . . are . . . here.”

“Ja, Metiz said you needed us.”

“Good.” The word faded on a sigh so faint that Ingeborg leaned closer. She looked to Metiz, who shook her head so imperceptibly that had Ingeborg not been watching, she’d have missed it.

“I . . . I am . . . going home.”

“Ja. Our Lord is waiting for you.” Ingeborg heard Anji sob be–hind her.

“Please, the psalm.”

“Ja.” Ingeborg turned and whispered to Anji. “Call the others quickly.”

“S-so hard . . .” A pause, each one longer than the last. “For them.”

“Ja. I shall miss you so, dear friend.”

Agnes squeezed Ingeborg’s fingers butterfly light.

One by one the men filed in, Knute and Swen following behind their father, eyes red. Joseph took Metiz’ place at her motion. “She’s in no pain?” Joseph asked.

Metiz shook her head. “Beyond pain.”

Ingeborg laid her other hand over Agnes’s. “ ‘The Lord is my shepherd. . . . ’ ”

“Ja.” Her eyes opened halfway. A smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Ja.”

“ ‘I shall not want.’ ” The others joined in, faltering one at a time. “ ‘He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.’ ” Gus turned his head into his arm. Becky sobbed on Anji’s shoulder.

Ingeborg felt the hand go limp as if life hovered on a breath. The lines smoothed out on her friend’s face. The smile deepened slightly.

“ ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. . . . ’ ” The words trailed off as each realized what had happened.

Joseph choked on a sob but kept going. “ ‘Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’ ”

Becky ran to her father and threw herself in his arms. He hugged her close and reached for the others. Together they stood, arms around each other, tears streaming down their faces.

“She is with God.” Joseph took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. “I’ll go tell Pastor.”

“I will, Pa. Let me.” Knute patted his father’s shoulder and left the room.

“I didn’t think she’d go so soon.” Joseph sat back down on the bed and picked up his wife’s hand, stroking her fingers with the tips of his own. “She was the best wife any man could have.”

“The best friend too.” Ingeborg wiped her eyes again. “She stood beside me through everything. After Roald died, she took me to task about forgiving and letting go and getting on with life. She told me my sons needed me. She said I was trying to kill myself with work, but that wasn’t God’s way. It took a lot for her to say all that to me.”

“Had a healthy dose of gumption, she did.”

Ingeborg looked around to see the others had left without her knowing. “So now we comfort the grieving and rejoice that she was here with us for as long as she was.” A sob caught her, and she sniffed again. “I know that’s the Christian way, but some things are almost harder than a body can bear.”

Joseph blew his nose and wiped his eyes. “Until this thing took her over, I always thought God would take me first, me being older and all.” He laid Agnes’s hand across her chest. “I thank you for coming like you did.”

“You are most welcome.” Ingeborg rose. “I’ll leave you alone with her.” At the door she paused and looked back. Beauty bathed her friend, making her look young again. Peace filled the room like a shimmering rainbow.

Anji stood looking out the kitchen window, hands cupping her elbows. She turned when she heard Ingeborg’s step and, without a word, headed straight for her arms. Ingeborg held the young woman, resting her cheek on Anji’s head, stroking and murmuring gentleness.

“Where is Becky?” Ingeborg asked when the weeping storm had abated.

“Sh-she went out with Swen.”

“And Gus?”

Anji shrugged. “Same.” She drew back enough to pick up her apron to wipe her eyes. “I wish Thorliff were here.”

“I know.”

“I . . . I don’t want to put Ma in the ground.”

Ingeborg fought the tears and again lost the battle. She sighed. “Neither do I.”

“She told me yesterday she wanted me to go to school.”

“She told me that too. She doesn’t want you to stay home and raise the younger ones.”

“Who will, then?”

“God will work something out. No need to make any decisions right now.”

Joseph stood in the doorway to the bedroom. “I’m going out to finish the box.”

“Someone else can do that.”

“I know, but I want to. It’s the last thing I can do for her.” He set his hat on his head. “She who did all she could for me.”

Another wagon drove up, and Kaaren climbed over the wheel as soon as it stopped turning. “Am I too late?”

“Ja, she slipped away so quick.” Ingeborg wiped her eyes again. “You can go see her.”

Kaaren nodded, her eyes streaming as she mounted the stairs, one arm around Anji’s shaking shoulders.

Before Metiz, Kaaren, and Ingeborg left, they washed, dressed, and laid Agnes out in the parlor, her bed a door over two sawhorses and padded by one of the quilts she’d sewn. Pastor and Mary Martha drove up as they were leaving.

“The burying will be tomorrow. I’ve already sent Sam out with the message.” Pastor Solberg took out his handkerchief to wipe his forehead and at the same time his eyes. “Sure is hot, and not a breath of air stirring.” He sighed. “This one is harder than most.”

“I know.” Ingeborg climbed up in the buggy. “What time?”

“Eleven. Then we can have dinner for everyone.”

“We’ll take care of the food,” Ingeborg said.

The west wind blew hot across the plains as the people of Blessing gathered to pay their last respects to Agnes, a favorite of all. It blew hats to tumbling and skirts whipping as if angry to witness the grief played out before it. Tears dried before they were born, and no one had enough moisture to moisten their quivering lips.

How I wish Haakan were here, something to lean against other than that wind
. Ingeborg fought the sobs that tore at her throat.
Father, I know Agnes is with you, but I miss her so. We all do.
She looked over to the Baard family gathered together without their center. Joseph looked to be a shell with all the heart and soul sucked out. Becky sat close to Anji and lay against her sister’s shoulder, her face pale as skimmed milk.

“Dearly beloved . . .”

Pastor Solberg had said those words at a wedding such a short time ago, and now for this. She could scarcely say the word
funeral
. So many they’d had in Blessing, but surely this was the worst. She barely remembered the one for Roald and Carl and the two little ones.

The wind snatched at the pages of Pastor’s Bible, so he closed it and held it in front of him with both hands like a shield against the enemy.

“Today we bury our sister in Christ, Agnes—mother, wife, friend. She has had a place in all our hearts, and her solid common sense made a difference in many lives. Agnes Baard truly lived what she believed. She loved our Lord with all her heart, strength, soul, and mind, and her neighbors as herself. Our Lord is right now saying, ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant . . . enter thou into the joy of thy lord.’ She is in that place He prepared especially for her.

“We are left to grieve, but not for Agnes—we rejoice for her—but for ourselves, for we miss her so.” He paused to blow his nose and wipe his eyes.

“Friends, I have studied much on heaven lately, and I no longer believe it is far away but rather very close. The Bible says we are separated but by a veil, and those already gone to be with our Lord can see through the veil or across the chasm. All the saints are there rejoicing in a new one come home and grieving with us in our sorrow. Christ himself is grieving with us. He knows our sorrows. He felt the worst of all when his Father left Him to hang on that tree. For us.”

Ingeborg felt an arm go around her waist and then another as her two children did what they could to comfort her.

“If any of you would like to say something . . .” Pastor waved a welcoming hand.

Only the sound of the wind could be heard until Metiz stepped forward. “Agnes Baard was my friend. She say I must believe in the man named Jesus, son of Great Spirit. I ask why. She say so I live with all my friends in home of Great Spirit. I ask why. She say because God loves me and wants me there too.” She swept her arm to include everyone. “I believe. I know I see Agnes again.”