A New Day Rising (37 page)

"Hey, Ingeborg, welcome," Joseph called.

"Ja, thank you." Ingeborg waved at Penny, who though in skirts, drove the other team back to the barn. Ingeborg steered the team to the spot where the men leaned on their pitchforks taking a moment's breather. She wanted to leap off the wagon and throw her arms around Haakan in thanks for the bluebells. She wanted to feel his strong arms close around her and hear his heart beat beneath her cheek. She wanted to ...

"Uff da," she muttered. Such thoughts. She could feel her cheeks flame, and it wasn't from the sun. Now she was almost embarrassed to look at him. But when he tossed up the first forkful, their eyes met. The warmth unfolded itself and stretched in her midsection, sending little tendrils of excitement clear to her fingertips.

"Thank you for my flowers."

"You are welcome. They reminded me of your eyes."

The warmth curled again and purred. "I ... ah ... giddyup, there." She stared straight ahead and flicked the reins for the horses to pick up the pace.

With the flat wagon bed covered with hay, Swen and Knute climbed aboard to begin the packing job.

"How come you didn't bring Thorliff? He would have fun with us." They tramped the hay down as they talked.

"He had to feed the sheep. You can all play tomorrow when you come to our house." Her mouth spoke with the boys, but her gaze followed the broad-shouldered man slightly ahead of the team who was filling his fork with hay. Again, in a smooth motion he swung his load up, twisted the fork, and dumped the hay on the lowest spot. Sweat darkened the back of his shirt, and sleeves rolled to the elbows revealed tanned arms.

She jerked herself back to the team. It was a good thing they knew what they were supposed to do, because her mind had certainly been off elsewhere-not far away, just following the man who noticed bluebells and saw them in her eyes.

When they stopped for dinner, she joined Agnes in the serving before sitting down to eat. Haakan moved over so a space opened beside him. Ingeborg stepped over the bench and sat down. When she looked up, Hjelmer sat directly across from her, his brows in a straight line that told her he was not pleased with her choice of seating, among other things. But when Penny sat next to him, the sun chased his angry furrows away, and the smile he gave the girl said more than a polite hello.

ingeborg stifled her frustration with him and turned to smile at Haakan, pleased that he, too, had noted the younger man's infatuation with Penny. The twinkle in his eyes said it all. She dug into the food on her plate, grateful for the chance to sit down, for the food, and for the warmth of the shoulder so close to hers.

You're acting like a love-starved maiden, she scolded herself. Remember, he is leaving in the fall.

That night, back at Kaaren's for supper since they finished haying at the Baards' in time to come home and do their own chores first, Lars asked the blessing on the food. Afterward, he looked up to ingeborg and Haakan. "I've been thinking. How about if we have a church service here at our house on Sunday. I know there's no preacher, but we can sing and pray and read the Scriptures without one."

"We could probably find someone to preach, too." Haakan looked at Kaaren. "Since you like to teach, you could do that."

Kaaren dropped her fork so it rang on the plate and tumbled to the floor. When she retrieved it, she stared at him, shaking her head. "But, Haakan, I am a woman. Women aren't pastors."

"Seems to me that out here on the prairie, we make do with what we got. You could find a passage or two of Scripture to read and then talk about them. Tell what they mean, a sort of reminder of how we should act. You could do that."

"Would she wear a white robe?" Thorliff asked. "She'd look like an angel."

"Why, Thorliff Bjorklund, how beautiful." Kaaren laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think you are going to be a writer or a poet someday. You so often say just the right words."

He ducked his head. "I want to write a book."

Ingeborg looked at him, shock causing her mouth to drop open. "You are a farmer. This will be your farm, Thorliff."

"I know." He raised his deep blue gaze to meet hers. "But I like to write'things, Mor."

ingeborg turned to take the spoon Andrew was banging on her arm. "We'll see, son, we'll see."

That Sunday the Baards and two other families arrived before noon to take part in the service. Since the sun shone and a breeze blew, they met in the shade of the soddy, and soon everyone was seated on the grass Haakan had scythed short for them. Kaaren started the first hymn, her clear soprano winging its way across the prairie. Their voices raised in praise to the Heavenly Father as they went from hymn to hymn with different ones starting their favorite.

When the lull fell, Lars said, "Shall we pray? Father in heaven, we come before Thee without a church or a place of worship but knowing that Thou art here with us. Forgive us our trespasses as we confess them now before Thee."

A silence fell, and even the small children sat without squirming. With heads bowed, each one recounted their sins in the silence of their hearts. Someone sniffed, another blew his nose. A meadowlark soared above them, spilling a song of blessing on the people gathered reverently below.

Kaaren opened her Bible. "This is from the first letter of John, chapter one, verses nine and ten. `If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar and his word is not in us.' " She closed her Bible. "We who have no pastor are called to be pastors one of another. We can worship together, confess our sins, and learn God's Word. Even though we live so far apart and the years have been hard, we have no excuse not to worship together like this. God says for us to gather together, and we are following His orders. So, if any of you have a favorite verse, say so, and we will read it. God, himself, will preach to us through His Word."

Agnes asked for Psalm 139, and one of the neighboring men asked for the twenty-third Psalm. Kaaren read each section and then turned to the Sermon on the Mount. When she finished reading that, someone began humming "Oh, God, Our Help in Ages Past," and the entire group picked up the words. When they finished, Thorliff asked for the story of the boy Samuel.

When Kaaren finished reading, Lars cleared his throat after a moment of silence. "Let's close with prayer and then the benedic tion. 'Our father, who art in heaven . . .' "The voices joined together as young and old, male and female recited the Norwegian words memorized at their mothers' knees. At the "amen," Lars stood and raised his right hand. "The Lord bless thee and keep thee . . ." The age-old words floated across the gathering and settled as a mantle of peace on those assembled. "... And give thee His peace." The "amen" rang sure and true.

The children leaped to their feet and chased each other around the building. Mothers bustled to set up the food they'd brought, and the men grouped together to discuss the haying and the latest news.

Ingeborg stopped for a moment and looked over the joyous gathering. Such a far cry from last year at this time. So many changes, so much to be grateful for. Tears threatened to spill at the burst of thanksgiving that swelled up in her heart. "Thank you, Father," she whispered, snatching the bug that almost disappeared into Andrew's mouth.

"No, den lille guten. Bugs belong on the ground, not in your mouth." She picked up the child and hugged him to her breast. Right now, she felt like hugging the whole world.

"I think our service went real well," Lars said later that evening after everyone had left for home to do their chores. The Bjorklunds, except Hjelmer who had walked Penny home and not yet returned, were gathered at Kaaren's house.

"You did just fine, Kaaren." Haakan held up his coffee cup in salute.

"To think we will do this again next week at the Baards'." Kaaren leaned back in her chair. "We will truly have a church here one day, and I don't think it will be too long coming." She leaned forward to tousle Thorliff's hair. "And by the time you are ready for confirmation, we most likely will even have a pastor. Won't that be wonderful?"

"I guess." He looked up at his aunt. "When are we going to have school again?"

Kaaren looked from him to the two men and to Ingeborg. "We will have a schoolhouse for next winter, Thorliff, and this summer I will help you again. Forgive me for letting your lessons go. Every afternoon, after the sheep have grazed their fill, you and Baptiste can come over here, and we will start your lessons again."

Ingeborg took in a deep breath. How would Kaaren care for Andrew, cook for all of them, and manage studies for the boys as well? Keeping track of Andrew was problem enough when she was busy. Was it time she hung up her britches and let the men do the fieldwork? At least for now? Lars would soon be able to join them. She rolled her lips together. It wasn't as if she hadn't enough to do at her own soddy. The garden was getting ahead of her, the weeds coming up like she'd liberated the plot from the sod just for them. There was washing to do, cleaning out the root cellar, cream to churn for butter, and milk to set for cheese. She stopped the listing right there before it overwhelmed her.

But she loved being out in the field, turning the sod, raking the hay. She looked up to see Haakan's gaze on her face. What was it she saw in his eyes, in the quirk of his mouth?

Decisions, decisions. So many decisions to make.

They finished the haying on Saturday. Three haystacks now stood guard beside the sod barns on both Bjorklund homesteads. After the Baards waved good-bye and headed home, the Bjorklunds finished their chores-,Lars had now taken over the milking-and settled down with their second cups of coffee. - - - - -- - - - - -- - -

ingeborg leaned her elbows on the table, the cup cradled between both hands. "I think we, or one of us, should go look for breeding stock, both for oxen and horses. We have three mares that could be bred, and a couple-.more- cows would-"

"Would give us mote milk to dispose of. You can't keep up with the cheese as it is." Kaaren held Andrew on her lap.

"Ja, that is true. We might need a larger cellar for storing ripening cheeses. But the offspring can be trained as oxen, and we can sell them. There are plenty of people heading to the western side of the territory, and they all need horses and oxen."

"Along with milk cows, sheep, pigs ..." Lars added. He had his foot propped up on a stool topped with a pillow. Even with his specially designed shoe, his foot swelled, growing even more painful when he walked very much. Though he limped, he grew stronger day by day.

"If we fenced off some of the land for pasture, you could let them graze without hobbling. You'll need to do that for a larger herd." Haakan rocked the chair on its back legs.

"For the sheep too." Thorliff looked up from the book he was reading in the lamplight.

"Ja, although they take a lot of grazing room, more than we'd want to fence this first year."

Ingeborg lifted her gaze from studying the rim of the cup to Haakan's face. Was he planning to stay, then? Had she heard right? He said 'we.'

"We could buy the barbed wire. We haven't enough trees to split for rails." Lars nodded. "I saw some pretty big pastures when I was out with the threshing machine. Everyone isn't as lucky to have a good herder like our Thorliff." He leaned forward and tousled the boy's-hair.-

Thorliff brushed it back off his forehead and grinned at his uncle. "Me and Baptiste."

"So, where would we go to find more stock?"

"And who would go?" Kaaren looked around the circle. "Who has time?"

All eyes looked at Ingeborg. She shook her head. "Not me. I think Lars should go."

"I'll be able to work in the fields soon."

"You could go to work out there Monday if we had a sulky plow. I think you're strong enough to push the foot pedals, and if not, we could arrange a pad on it or something."

"Buy a sulky plow now?" Ingeborg heard her voice squeak.

"You have enough produce to make a run to the Bonanza farm. You could order the sulky plow at The Mercantile at the same time, stable the team in St. Andrew, and catch the boat for Pembina to look for more cows and mares. Didn't you say that Roald bought the one team of oxen up there?"

"Ja, but I don't know where, and ..." Ingeborg sputtered to a stop. Hadn't this been her dream, buying more stock and raising animals to sell? Then why was she hesitating? Did she know how to tell if an animal was sound? Of course. Could she drive a hard bargain? If needed. Did she want to go? No!

She looked up to see Hjelmer looking at her from under lowering eyebrows. "You have been very quiet," she said. "What do you think?"

"I think it is not a woman's place to do this. Buying livestock is a man's job."

Ingeborg was sorry she'd asked. Should they send him? She looked to Lars, who sat off to the side of Hjelmer and slightly behind. The slight shake of his head could have been a trick of the light. She watched without seeming to look at him, and he did so again.

Haakan rubbed his fingertip around the rim of the cup.

"Would anyone like more coffee?" Kaaren asked, getting to her feet and handing the nodding Andrew to Lars.

"I don't think we need to make the decision tonight, do we? Let's think about it."

"And pray about it," Kaaren added as she refilled ingeborg's cup.

"Ja, that too. But even if we don't buy more stock right now, that plow would make a big difference."

Hjelmer strode ahead of them on the walk back to the other soddy. The rigid set of his shoulders shouted his resentment. Haakan carried the sleeping Andrew. A sickle moon hung in the west with a star dangling below the tip. The horizon still bore the lighter blue from the long set sun, and above them, the Milky Way spread its canopy of distant pinpricks of light.

Ingeborg drew in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh.

"Is there something wrong?" Haakan asked in a low voice.

"Just the not knowing exactly what to do." Ingeborg stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I'd like to depend more on Hjelmer, but. . ." She looked ahead to where Thorliff tried to match his uncle's long strides. Hjelmer paid the lad no attention.