A Heart for Home (24 page)

She stopped in front of the mirror in the hall and pinned on the widebrimmed straw hat she kept there. Going without a hat would indeed not be proper. If she were really proper, she would carry a parasol too, but even the thought of it made her frown. The thought brought back memories of Mrs. Moore down on the Rosebud Reservation. Was there any chance she had taken her advice so she could have a healthy baby?

Since the men were now digging cellars in the blocks between the surgery and the post office, she didn’t cut across but instead walked up to Main and stepped up onto the boardwalk, which was so valuable when the rain caused puddles and mud. Right now they needed a good rain, but rain would be bad for the wheat harvest. There were no easy answers, if ever there had been.

“Hey there, Dr. Bjorklund!”

She looked up to wave at Toby, who was one of the carpenters on Joshua’s, or rather Mr. Landsverk’s, roof. “That sure went up in a hurry.”

“I know. Wonderful, isn’t it? At the rate we’re going, we’ll have them all weatherproofed by fall.”

“What about the hospital?”

“That’s on hold for another week.” He waved again and went back to hammering.

Astrid continued past the boardinghouse on the other side of the street and crossed the side street to climb the stairs to the post office. She could see Gerald at the switchboard in the office across the hall.

Pushing open the screen door, she stepped inside, where a bit of a breeze entered at one door and crossed the floor to the other.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dr. Bjorklund.” Mrs. Valders smiled from behind the counter. “We never seem to see your face much.”

“No. That typhoid scare kept us pretty busy.”

Mrs. Valders rubbed her arm. “That vaccination must have took real good on me. Still a bit tender.” She reached down and fetched a couple of magazines and a package and set them on the counter. “Your regular mail is in the box.”

Astrid unlatched the door and pulled several letters out, flipping through to see if any were for her. “Is the newspaper mail still here too?”

“Sure enough. Let me put all this in a satchel for you. I think those ads Thorliff has run are paying off.” She bundled a bunch into a cloth bag. “Bring the bag back the next time you come in.”

Astrid nodded. “You want me to look at that vaccination?”

Mrs. Valders rolled up her sleeve. “If you don’t mind, but it looks to be healing.”

Astrid inspected the still slightly red and crusty spot. “Do you have any menthol cream?”

“I think so.”

“Rub that in. It will soften up the scab.”

“Thank you. You doctors sure took good care of this town. We mighta lost lots of our people had you not gotten the vaccine. Benny was so brave about it. The way he calls you “My Doc” just tickles me pink.”

“He is one special little boy. I fell in love with him when he came out of the anesthetic after the surgery and realized he’d lost his legs. He glared at me as if I were responsible, and just one tear rolled down his cheek. He’s a brave one, all right.”

“He’s looking forward to school. His pa is putting better wheels on his scooter so he can navigate the path when it gets bumpy. He doesn’t want anyone pulling him in the wagon anymore.”

“Maybe we should find him a big dog to pull the wagon. Then he’d be the most popular one around. Everyone would want to ride in it.”

“My Benny – all the children love him.”

Astrid patted Mrs. Valders’ hand where it lay on the counter. The woman could hardly talk about her grandson without tearing up. “Amazing how God works, isn’t it? Here was a little boy who needed a decent home when he had legs, but when we brought him here, he charmed the town and gave us all a good example of courage.”

“I thank God for him every day. Now with the baby coming and all, Rebecca is going to be mighty busy.”

“You know, I was thinking that maybe we ought to put out the word that we, as a town, would be willing to have some female immigrants come here to work too. What do you think?”

“They’d have to be God-fearing proper women or girls,” Mrs. Valders said, nodding her head while she spoke. “It would be good if they were Norwegian or Swede, but German would be fine.” She looked at Astrid. “We are going to be needing more help, that’s for sure. I’ll ask Mr. Valders what he thinks.”

Astrid knew that was a total agreement. Sometimes she wondered if the two really did discuss the news of the town. Those were always Hildegunn’s last words. “I’ll talk with Mr. Valders about it.”

“I better get back and go through this mail. Thank you.” Instead of going out the west door and over to Rebecca’s for a soda, which sounded like a wonderful way to finish her day, she returned the way she came. Back at the surgery, as everyone called Thorliff’s house, Astrid set the mail for the newspaper on the kitchen table and that for the doctors on the dining room table.

“That you, Astrid?” Elizabeth called from above.

“I got the mail. I have a letter from Red Hawk.”

“Anything else?”

“One from Dr. Morganstein. You want me to bring it up?”

“No. I’ll come down in a while.”

Astrid slit open the letter from Red Hawk. She would recognize his handwriting anywhere. Bold, half printing, half cursive. He must have driven his teachers mad when they tried to force him to write correctly.

Dear Dr. Bjorklund,

I have received news from the reservation, and all of the reports are singing your praises to the sky. I am not sure if you realized the precariousness of your visit there. I know that there could have been trouble, but you won their gratitude for keeping so many of my people alive. Especially He Who Walks Tall. He is young to take over as chief, but with the death of Dark Cloud, he was a good choice. I know that had I been there, I would have been forced into the role of chief. Had I lived through the epidemic, of course.

I was surprised that you brought the two women back to Blessing with you. I hope that did not cause dissension in your town. Training them will do exactly as you said – give me assistance when I get there.

Dr. Morganstein has said that if your hospital is dedicated about the time I am finished here, she wants me to stop there with them for the ceremony. Please keep us advised as to how the building is progressing.

I heard that you had typhoid there with the immigrant laborers. We borrowed vaccine from all the hospitals around in order to send you the amount you requested. Since you did not ask for more, we assumed this was sufficient. If only there had been a vaccine for the measles for my people.

Again, I thank you for your help, and I look forward to going back to my people so we can bring them the health care they deserve.

Your servant, Dr. Red Hawk

Astrid read the letter a second time and then laid it out for Elizabeth to read, opening the one from Dr. Morganstein. Mrs. Izzy Josephson had died. Astrid paused a moment. Such a fiery little lady and one who was helping fund the hospital. Sad she’d not lived to see the project through.
Do not be concerned regarding money for the
hospital. She stipulated in her will that funding would continue.
With a sigh of relief Astrid laid the letter on the table. “I left the letters here for you,” she called up the stairs.

“Thank you.”

“I’m going over to the schoolhouse now, so if someone comes, you will take care of it, or Thelma can just tell them to wait.”

“That’s fine.” Elizabeth appeared at the top of the stairs. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.” She started down the stairs. “I should be back to normal by now.”

“Not necessarily. You went through a lot. Are you limping?”

“My right leg hurts some is all. I banged my knee on the stool in the kitchen. Don’t be such a worrywart.”

Astrid shrugged. She had to admit she watched Elizabeth very carefully, but she was taking a long time to regain her strength. Maybe Mor could suggest a tonic for the other Dr. Bjorklund.

Astrid took her black bag with her and went around the building lots the other way to head for the church and the schoolhouse. How she would love to stop and see Pastor Solberg for a good long chat.

“Come by for coffee after you visit the sick men,” Mary Martha called from her garden. “I’ll put the pot on.”

“All right.” She found Boris sitting on the steps and carving on a piece of wood with his pocketknife. “How are you feeling, Mr. Boris?” she asked, speaking slowly.

He smiled. He had shaved his face and wore clean clothes, so she could tell there was improvement.

She laid the back of her hand against his forehead. “No fever.”

“Ja, goot.”

“Ja, good is right.”

He said something, then screwed up his face. “Ah . . . work?”

How could she say
part time
? “Stop at noon?”

His frown told her he didn’t comprehend.

“Work, ja. Till noon.” She pointed toward where the sun would be straight up.

He nodded, but she had no idea if he understood what she’d said. She’d tell Thorliff to get it across somehow.

She motioned to the inside, so he stood back to let her pass, then followed her in.

The man on the pallet was sound asleep. When she patted his shoulder, his eyes fluttered open. “Ja, Doctor?”

“I came to check on you.” This was easy since he spoke Norwegian. Speaking so often to these patients, she felt more at home in the language again. It had been a long time since they’d spoken Norwegian around town.

“Better.” His voice was weak, but he no longer looked ashen.

“Have you been eating?”

“Ja. Boris, he feeds me and helps me.”

“Good.” She listened to his lungs. “Any coughing?”

“Not much. Just so weak.”

“I left some syrup here for your cough.”

“I know. I took it.”

“You look better than you did this morning. Are you eating well?”

“Better than I have for years.”

Astrid smiled. She knew Mrs. Sam would make sure the men had plenty to eat.

“I will see you again in the morning, then. I told Boris he could work for half a day, so he will return at noon. If you need anything, ring the bell.” She pointed to the teacher’s bell she had set near him.

“I will. Thank you, Dr. Bjorklund.”

“Keep scrubbing your hands when you – ”

His face turned bright red. “Ja, ja.”

Astrid nodded and looked around to make sure things were being kept clean. Someone had come and picked up the used dishes, and the basket of dirty clothes was empty. Clean things were folded and piled on one of the school benches.

“Just rest, then.”

“Ja. I can’t seem to do much more.” He paused. “Dr. Bjorklund, how will I pay for all this?”

“You are not to worry. We brought you here. We will take care of you. When you are strong enough to work, you will have work and a place to stay at the boardinghouse. You will pay for that from your wages.”

“Ja, good.” He fought to keep his eyes open.

Astrid smiled again at Boris as she left the schoolhouse and headed for Mary Martha’s and that coffee she’d promised.

21

“He wasn’t home nearly long enough.”

“What’s that you said?” Freda asked from inside the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I had spoken aloud.” Ingeborg was sitting on the porch step with Inga. She set aside the bowl into which she was snapping beans and stared out across the garden.

“Why you sad, Grandma?” Inga peered up into her grandma’s face from the step below, her bowl for snapped beans tipping precariously in her lap.

“Your beans,” Ingeborg whispered.

“Oh.” Inga set her bowl on the step and stood to wrap her arms around her grandmother’s neck. “Don’t be sad.”

“I am sad because Grandpa is gone again. I really miss him.”

“Me too. Maybe we need to have coffee and cookies.”

Ingeborg burst out laughing. After kissing Inga’s cheek, she raised her voice. “Inga thinks we need coffee and cookies.”

“I think Inga is a very smart little girl.”

“See, now you’re not so sad.” Inga sat back down, this time on the same step as Ingeborg, and leaned against her. “You could tell me a story while we snap beans.”

“Coffee and cookies
and
a story?”

“About when you were little in Norway.”

“Oh my. That was sooo long ago.”

“You lived in a house on a hill, and the animals lived underneath the house. How come they did not have a barn like we do?”

Ingeborg picked up her bowl and a handful of beans. “It was like this. In Norway there are lots of mountains and hills – ”

“We have flat land.”

“We do. The only hill we have here is the riverbank.”

“Where we slide down onto the river after it freezes.”

“Right. You know we used to make a pond out by the barn for ice skating in the winter. We must do that again this year. You are big enough to learn to ice skate.”

“Ice is water all frozen hard.”

“Right. Now, in Norway, the animals lived under the house so they could keep warm, and the warmth from the animals helped keep the house warm.”

“How?”

“Well, heat rises. That’s why the upstairs gets warm in the winter – the heat goes up there.”

“All by itself?”

“Up the stairs and through the big square vent over the stove.”

“Emmy and me got dressed by the vent last winter.”

“That you did. The rising heat warmed your legs under your nightgown.”

“And made our nightgowns go big.” Inga demonstrated the billowing cloth, and her beans tipped.

Ingeborg grabbed the bowl just in time.

“Coffee and cookies coming right up.” Freda pushed open the door with a tray she held in both hands. Setting the tray on the low table between the chairs, she poured two cups of black and one cup of half cream and half coffee along with a bit of sugar.

Inga pulled her grandmother up, and they climbed the stairs to sit in the chairs. Ingeborg passed the plate of cookies.

“What kind are these?” Inga pointed to some lightly browned rectangles.

“They are called icebox cookies.” Freda took a bite out of hers. “I found a new recipe. You make the dough and form a long flat tube, then wrap that and put it in the icebox.” She explained the shape with her hands too. “Then slice and bake them the next day. Or later if you want. They are supposed to keep well.”