A Harvest of Hope (26 page)

Thorliff added, “We also want to save wood that is partially burned. We can use it for cooking and heating this winter. And haul the ashes out to scatter on the fields. They make fine fertilizer.”

The spokesman was smiling broadly. “Ve know ve must take care that there are no nails and metal pieces in these ashes. A grazing cow picks up a nail, it causes problems in her stomach. Ja!”

Daniel was beaming. “I'll round up all the rakes and shovels and wheelbarrows I can find, and we'll bring around a couple hitches so you have horses to pull apart big piles. Thank you!” And he repeated, “Thank you.”

Astrid stepped back and watched as Daniel sent a group in this direction, another in that.

She was watching faith in action. God takes care of his own.

Blessing was being blessed.

A
strid, at her desk, sat back in her chair. “That about covers it. We've talked about plans for dealing with any other crisis, and everyone is up-to-date about our patients. Any questions?” She looked at the nurses around her desk.

Miriam nodded. “I have one but not about that. You know the man who died at the elevator? Does he have any family to notify?”

“I asked Mr. Huslig. He had no idea. And we've heard of no one.” Astrid rubbed her temples. She had a headache again.

“Oh. One other thing.” Corabell, who had stood up, sat down again. “I am going to take Vera's shift tonight so that she can go to the thanksgiving celebration with Dr. Deming.”

“Thank you, Corabell.” The thought of the celebration tonight, put together by the quilt club, was not appealing. Worse than simply not appealing, Astrid dreaded going. She so wanted to do nothing but sleep for a week or two. She did not want to celebrate anything, even though there was so much to be grateful for. But it was necessary that she at least make an appearance, even if she didn't want to dance. The hospital had been spared, and she wanted to publicly thank the people who were involved.

She tugged her shawl over her shoulders and headed for the door. She stopped as Dr. Deming came in.

“Could I have you look at this?” He indicated his bandaged face. “It doesn't feel right.”

“Of course.” Astrid pulled off her shawl, motioning him to the examining room, and beckoned Gray Cloud to come and assist.

Carefully, she and Gray Cloud removed the dressings. With the lines of stitches across his forehead, two down his cheek, and another on the side of his neck, he looked rather intimidating.

Astrid smiled. “You really don't want to look in a mirror yet.”

“Will I scare little children?”

“Probably not. Our children are strong. Most of these will fade away, but it looks like we have some infection here.” She probed carefully around a swelling. “We'll start a hot pack here, and I might have to take out a couple of stitches to let this drain.” She turned to Gray Cloud. “Please go ask Mrs. Geddick for some vinegar and hot water.”

“Vinegar?” Dr. Deming frowned.

“Yes. It is a good antiseptic, and we're running low on carbolic acid. We can also try a bread-and-milk poultice, or an onion one. Are you attending the party tonight?”

“Oh yes. I asked Miss Vera to accompany me. She doesn't seem the least put off by all this carnage.”

“I should hope not. She's a nurse. You lie back, and Gray Cloud will change the pack in fifteen minutes or so. You need to do this four times a day. And I want to see it tomorrow morning again. I'm sure Nurse Wells will be delighted to help you.” Was that a blush she saw rising on his neck? She kept her smile to herself and turned as soon as Gray Cloud tapped on the door and entered. Was she matchmaking? She knew Vera wouldn't mind assistance in the romance department. After all, Astrid had heard the others teasing her about coming to Blessing to find a husband.

She left Gray Cloud changing the packs to keep them warm. The room smelled like someone had been making pickles. She'd not had time this summer to help with making pickles, something
she enjoyed helping her mor with. Mrs. Jeffers had done it all. If Astrid allowed herself to follow that line of thought, she knew she could make herself cringe with guilt in short order. While she knew the reasons she could not be home more, being the only available doctor one of them, sometimes she had to speak firmly to herself about trusting that God knew what He was doing. Most likely her mor was right when she said that learning to trust God, really trust Him, was a lifelong process.

Picking up her black bag, she again started for the door.

A very sorry-looking couple was coming into the hospital. The Munros! Poor Izzie Munro looked wan and harried. She was carrying a fussy bundled-up baby.

“Mr. and Mrs. Munro! How do you do?” Astrid put down her bag. She would not be leaving yet.

“We're doing fine. Fine.” Mr. Munro looked awfully grim for someone who was doing fine. “We brought in little Annabel. Maybe something wrong.”

Astrid took the baby from Izzie's arms into her own and was shocked by how little the bundle weighed. “Let us go to the examining room.” She led the way.

Mr. Munro explained, “Baby Annabel cries, doesn't sleep well.”

Astrid unwrapped the little bundle on the examining table. Clean blanket, clean baby sacque. Obviously the infant was well cared for. But look how thin the tiny arms and legs were. And how bloated the abdomen. Astrid stood erect. “Mr. Munro, the child is not getting nearly enough milk. She is starving.”

Mr. Munro wagged his head. “She'd suck all day if we let her.” He pointed to his wife. He was obviously a modest man. He did not point specifically to her breasts.

Astrid held aside the woman's shawl. The front of her blouse hung straight down. Flaccid breasts, certainly not filled. She dropped Mrs. Munro's shawl back in place. “Mrs. Munro—may I call you Izzie, please?—you're not eating much. Why?”

“Food costs too much money. We have no money.”

“Do you not earn the same pay as everyone else?”

Mr. Munro nodded. “Same pay, aye, but I must give half of it to the bank. So we do not have much.”

Astrid's jaw dropped. “Why?”

“The bank man. Mr. Vedder. Valler.”

“Valders?”

“Aye, the very one. He gave us a loan, and we must pay it back.”

“A loan.”

“Aye! Soon as we pay the loan, then we'll have money like everyone else.”

Fury rose up so wildly, so quickly, Astrid had to breathe deeply for a moment just to get her voice back. “But half your paycheck? No! You do not have to repay at that rate!”

“Aye, we do. Mr. Valders will ship us back to Scotland if we do not.”

“What?” Of all the . . . Three people starving, and Anner . . . “Come with me.” Astrid marched to the kitchen. “Mrs. Geddick? There you are. I'm sorry to make more work for you, but these people are very hungry. Mrs. Munro cannot make enough milk for her baby. Feed them a big meal, please.”

Mrs. Geddick stared for a moment openmouthed. “Oh ja! Oh ja!” She hustled toward the stove, muttering something.

Mr. Munro shook his head. “No. We'll not do this. We cannot pay for—”

“We would not let you pay. Now please listen carefully, Mr. Munro. You do
not
have to give the bank half of your pay. Really. You do not. You will buy food for your family—”

“He will send us away. We spent everything to get here. We will have no job, no home at all.”

“No!” She grasped both of his arms. “Anner Valders cannot get you deported. He will not send you away. Feed your family.”

“But . . .” Fear clouded his eyes, intense fear.

Mrs. Geddick came marching over. “Mr. Munro. Do you trust your doctor?”

“Aye, but . . .” His eyes darted from face to face.

“She says you do not worry. Do you trust her?”

And an amazing thing happened. The fear softened. His sad gray eyes met Astrid's. “Aye. I trust you. I do not trust him. I will not give the bank more money. When you say I should, then I will give him some.”

“Good! Now please sit down, both of you. You will eat dinner here. Tomorrow you will come to the kitchen and eat dinner again. Mrs. Geddick, is that all right?”

“Ja! Oh ja. They must eat dinner here every day until she makes more milk. She did not dry up yet?”

“No. I think we caught it in time. I hope so.”

Mrs. Geddick wagged her head. “Look, the baby. The poor, hungry baby.” And she hurried off to fill two plates and warm some milk in a bottle for the baby.

Astrid said good-bye to the Munros, gathered up her shawl and black bag, and again headed for the door. She managed to get through it this time, out into the bright afternoon sun.

Although the sun was warming, the nip in the air reminded her that fall was in full swing. Golden cottonwood leaves whirled and danced to the ground in the breeze. While far fewer, the maple leaves glowed red against the yellow carpet. Look at this beauty! She must put aside her anger. It was doing no one any good, herself especially, and it was spoiling this God-given beauty.

Astrid turned into the gate at Elizabeth's. She knew how terribly Elizabeth wanted to go to the celebration and finally made a decision that she hoped she would not regret. While Scooter greeted her, the silence of no Inga made her shrug.

“Where's your girl?” she asked the bouncing dog as she mounted the steps.

“Coffee's ready,” Elizabeth called when Astrid opened the door. Soon the isinglass-covered winter door would replace the screen doors of summer. While she loved fall, she was not ready for winter, not by any stretch of the imagination.

“She'll be right here,” Thelma said, pointing to the chair by the round table in the corner. The geraniums from outside already graced the windowsills, blooming as if they had not so recently been moved.

“Is Inga out at Mor's?”

“Ja. She spent the night with Emmy.” Thelma finished pouring coffee and studied Astrid before walking back to the stove. “You look terrible. Tired.”

“Don't we all?”

“Sorry for the delay.” Elizabeth came through the arched doorway. “I was hoping we could have coffee outside, but it's too chilly.”

Astrid lifted her cup and blew on the rising steam. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“I have been contemplating something.” Elizabeth sat down across the table and leaned forward. “I truly believe I can attend the celebration tonight for at least the program. I wouldn't stay for the dancing, of course. I really want to hear the children do their part.”

Astrid wagged her head. “You did it to me again.”

“What?”

“Read my mind. I decided the same thing, but you have to promise you'll come late and leave early.”

Elizabeth reached across the table to take her hand. “Thank you. I didn't really want to fight you on this, but I am feeling so much better, and this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I promise to be careful of germs. I'll even scrub my hands with vinegar when I get home.”

Should she mention Anner's shabby trick with the Munros? No. If she described it, she would just become irate all over again. Instead she caught Elizabeth up on all else that had transpired at the hospital, concluding with the lacerated Dr. Deming. “He will smell like pickles at the party tonight, but I have a feeling he won't be dancing much with anyone other than Vera.” The
two women chuckled together and shared a smile over their cup brims.

“We better enjoy moments like these. They don't come very often.” Elizabeth turned to Thelma. “Did you hear that? You need to come sit down for a minute too.”

“I will.” Thelma paused. “Later.”

Astrid stared at the woman, who was taking two pies out of the oven. Thelma actually made a joke. When she looked back at Elizabeth, they both fought to keep the laughter from bubbling out.

Miriam hurried back to her room at the boardinghouse after she finished the day shift, wishing she could just eat her supper and spend the evening writing to her family. Tired did not begin to describe how she felt.
Bone weary
was closer to it.

“You have mail,” Maisie Landsverk said, reaching into the numbered cubbyholes behind the front counter, where she kept mail for the boarders. “You hit the jackpot with two envelopes.” She set the mail on the counter. “Do you have your dancing shoes all shined for the party, or rather the celebration?” she corrected herself.

“Everyone sure is excited about it.” Sometimes not answering a direct question was a good thing.

“We need to thank people. That we still have a boardinghouse and any other buildings in Blessing is so miraculous. I'm glad this celebration is for thanking God also.”

Miriam nodded and smiled. “Will you be able to attend?”

Mrs. Landsverk nodded emphatically. “We are putting up a sign that if someone needs something, they can find us at the schoolhouse. I won't stay for the dancing, but Sophie and I will be some of those doing the thanking.” She cleared her throat. “So close.” She shook her head slowly, as if still in shock. “So terribly close. I thank Him every day that no more lives were lost. Or even horrid injuries. Reverend Solberg reminded me of that
the other day when he and Mr. Devlin were having coffee in the dining room.” She half smiled. “We need reminders, you know.”

“That we do. Thank you.” She turned away and looked up the staircase. Right now that seemed like a lot of stairs to get to her room.

“Do you want me to send up a tray?”

Miriam turned back. “You would do that?”

“Of course. Give you a chance for a short nap at least.”

Do I look that tired?
“Thank you.” After a comment like that, somehow the stairs did not look so intimidating.