A Promise for Ellie (25 page)

“How much do you want?”

He thought for a moment. “Thirty each?”

“That sounds about right. I’ll think about it.”

“If I could sell my place, it would be better than lettin’ it go back to the bank.”

“You want to take your horse down to the barn and let him loose in the corral? Stay for dinner? You could talk with my husband about the land.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ingeborg realized she’d made a mistake. Haakan would not be home for dinner. He would be eating at the Baards’. And yet she knew he would want to know about the land. Not about the cows, but the land.

“That would be right kind of you. Name is Joshua. Joshua Landsverk.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Landsverk. You’re welcome to sit on the porch here, and I’ll bring you some coffee.” After he nodded and reined his horse around, Ingeborg returned to the garden, where Astrid was bringing in her basket of peas.

“Please take one of the horses and ride on over to the Baards’. I think your pa will want to talk with this young man.”

“Sure. You want me to see if we have mail at the same time?”

“Ja, and tell Pa to come home for dinner.”
Or should I just send this
man on over there? So much indecision lately
. Questions, always questions. More land to buy. Haakan would be pleased. Times like this were when she missed Goodie the most. They used to quilt together, can together, and do things together like snap beans and shell peas.

Goodie had been her second right hand.

After Astrid left, Ingeborg stuck wood into the stove, pulled the coffeepot forward, and checked the meat baking in the oven. She should have put more wood in sooner. As soon as she served the coffee, she began shelling the peas. Her thoughts flew as fast as her fingers. With more land for hay and feed grain, they could have more cows. If that place could be planted to wheat, then more of the home farm could be used for hay and feed grain. Would Trygve want the place in a couple of years? Had she made a mistake in calling Haakan home? No. He’d want to know about this. Of course, he could have already known and not thought to mention it. At least not about the cows. He really did not want more cows to milk. But two cows and a bred heifer weren’t many. She hadn’t even had to go looking. God brought the man right to her door.

Since she’d not set bread this morning, she scrubbed the potatoes first and set them to boiling, then mixed biscuits for dinner. After she slipped the baking sheet into the oven and started the peas to simmering, she melted butter, stirred in flour, and added milk to make a white sauce for the peas and potatoes. What a treat that would be.

Barney barked, and she heard Astrid call the dog as she loped the horse to the barn. When she glanced out the door, she found the young man sound asleep in the rocking chair. His hat was tipped so far back on his head, a bit of breeze would lift it right off. A shock of dark brown hair fell over his forehead. He looked more like a rancher than a farmer in his Levi pants and full-sleeved shirt with no collar. No overalls with suspenders like most of the men she knew wore.

She watched as Astrid came into the yard, the squeak of the gate waking Mr. Landsverk. He started, grabbed his hat, and rose to his feet, hat clasped to his chest.

As soon as she saw him, Astrid stopped and a smile broke over her face as if she’d just seen an old friend. She mounted the stairs, her smile growing wider. “I’m Astrid Bjorklund.”

When he introduced himself, Ingeborg knew they were in for a problem. The awe in his voice said it all.
I should have just sent him on
his way
.

S
HE WASN’T A WANTON
.

Thank God for Dr. Elizabeth, who was willing to answer all her questions without making her feel embarrassed or like a ninny, as her mother had. But then, her mother had been embarrassed too, if the red on her face was a good indication. Elizabeth had been so matter-of-fact that Ellie felt perfectly comfortable. Relief flowed sweetly through her like the best spring water. She climbed the stairs to her room and slowly undressed.

The picnic last Sunday had been one of the most confusing days of her entire life. But one thing she knew for sure. Andrew Bjorklund could be a pain in the neck. Or as in this case, in the foot. When she took her shoe off, she saw that her foot was still bruised. No wonder it hurt. Although she’d not shown it to Elizabeth, she’d suggested she go home and soak it in cold water, which she had done, but the bruising and swelling had formed quickly.

Ellie hung up her clothes and slipped a nightdress over her head. Another two months and she would be in her own house, getting ready for bed, and getting along with Andrew. Surely all this would straighten out when they were married.

“I should have gone to him and apologized,” she told the face in the mirror as she untied the bow that kept her hair back. Shaking her head, she ran her fingers through her hair, then reached for her hairbrush. One hundred strokes a night. Andrew loved her hair. He’d said so more than once. She let her mind rove as she brushed, thinking of Andrew at graduation, Andrew sticking up for her years earlier, Andrew showing her his barn, herself holding baby Inga, dreaming of having a baby of her own with Bjorklund blue eyes, yet being terrified every time she thought of a baby.

She glanced again into the mirror.
What would I look like with a
fringe?

“If the haying keeps on as it is, Haakan said we will have time before harvest to get your house up,” Hjelmer told Ellie the following evening when they were sitting on the back porch enjoying the breeze that came up just in time to discourage the mosquitoes.

“Really?” Joy rushed from her toes to the tips of her fingers.

“Of course no rain during haying means the wheat fields are in bad need of moisture. That’s one thing about farming. There’s rarely enough of everything.”

“According to the newspapers, the legislature figures the same.” Penny closed her accounts book. “I sure wish they’d get after the railroads. Shipping costs are far too high, and if I’m feeling it, what about the farmers?”

“Haakan gets tight-lipped every time someone brings up the subject. You know the flour mill they’ve set up down by Valley City? He’s talking of doing one here. Said if we can have a cheese house, why not a flour mill.”

“Using river power? That’s why the mills were built by the rapids in Minneapolis.”

“No, steam engine. If steam can pull the trains, why not run the mill? That’s what all milling will be based on one of these days.When I was back in Minneapolis, I went and looked at the flour mills. I was thinking since many of the grain elevators were built by co-ops, why not a flour mill?”

“Who would have the money to do such a thing? It would cost thousands.”

Hjelmer set his chair to rocking, his eyes narrowed, lost in thought.

Penny smiled at Ellie and raised one eyebrow as if to say “Men.”

“How does a co-op work?” Ellie kept her voice down.

“Everyone contributes to the cost,” Penny explained. “Our bank started that way. Many of the people of Blessing got together and pooled their money. Actually, the women started talking about it first. Hjelmer ran it for a time, and while he is still in charge, Mr. Valders runs it on a day-to-day basis. We used to vote on applications for loans, but now that there are so many more people around here, the board of directors makes those decisions.”

“Who’s on the board?”

“Haakan, Lars, Pastor Solberg, Mr. Moen, Hjelmer, and Mr. Valders. I think we should have a woman or two on the board, but so far that’s not happened. All the shareholders elect people to the board.”

“Is Andrew a shareholder?”

Penny nodded. “Anyone who has a savings account at the bank and is eighteen and over is a shareholder.”

Ellie thought to the small amount of money she had saved in a leather drawstring bag and kept under her bed. Perhaps she should have that in the bank. “So women are shareholders too?”

“Yes. I am one because I own this store. Ingeborg owns her cheese house, and Bridget owns the boardinghouse.We have a good number of female-owned businesses here in town.”

Hjelmer rejoined the conversation. “I think we should call a meeting of the grain elevator co-operative and do some real talking about a flour mill. Soon as haying is done and I get back from Bismarck, I’m going to Valley City and look over their mill. I heard they’re thinking of building one in Dickinson too. There’s enough wheat shipped out of the Red River Valley to run another mill.”

“Right. One more reason for you to run off someplace.” While Penny smiled, her tone wore a bite.

Ellie stared at Hjelmer. “You’re not just fooling around with this idea, are you?”

He shook his head slowly. “Anything we can do to make things better for the farmers here, I’m in favor of.”

“Where would you sell the flour?” Ellie squirmed inside, never liking it when people took potshots at each other.

“What’s wrong with right here in the Dakotas? A lot of new people are coming in, and everyone needs flour.” He nodded in time with the rocker. “If that Marquis de Mores could set up a beefpacking plant in Medora, we ought to be able to do a flour mill here.”

“But remember he lost his shirt and the shirts of some heavy investors in all his schemes.”

Hjelmer ignored his wife’s rebuttal. “I think he was a man before his time. I talked with Theodore Roosevelt on one of his trips out there. He says more of us need to be far thinkers like de Mores. Shame the man didn’t get along better with the local people.”

“I read about how he named the town for his wife. I thought that was so romantic.” Ellie sighed. “But I wonder if he really liked it when she went hunting with the men.”

“She’s known to be a better shot than he was, just like Ingeborg can outshoot all of us. That woman has an eye for shooting. That’s for sure.”

“That woman, as you so inelegantly put it, has an eye for all kinds of things. Who would have thought her cheese house would make Blessing known across the country, in spite of all the male naysayers? She sends cheese clear to New York and west to Seattle, where so many Norwegians have settled. Since she started making gammelost, she can’t keep up with the orders.”

“Next thing I know, you’ll be keeping goats to make goat cheese.”

Penny’s laugh burst out, making even the children look to see what was happening. “Why do you think I started the store? I don’t like milking cows, I don’t like shoveling cow manure, and I don’t want to do the same for goats either.”

“Less to shovel.”

“Hjelmer Bjorklund, if I have to have goats, you have to stay home to milk them.” She muttered under her breath, “And that would be the day.”

“Ellie could milk them.”

Ellie shook her head. “Never did care for the smell of goats.”

“Don’t tease her, you big lug. You know that’s why you went into blacksmithing and selling machinery.”

“Not all of us are cut out to be farmers.” He scratched his neck. “I’m helping with the haying only because of my good heart.”

“Oh, please.” Penny swatted his arm as she stood to call the children in for bed. “You are such a tease.”

“Would you rather I went gambling again?”

“Just try it.”

“Ah, Penny, my dear, all of life is a gamble, especially if you’re farming or running a business—”

“Or running the state. Come on, Gustaf, Linnea. Bedtime.”

Ellie went inside to light the kerosene lamps. A moth fluttered around the chimney, quickly joined by another. June bugs climbed the window screens and committed suicide against the doors. Big as they were, Ellie remembered the boys tying strings to the bugs and having pulling contests of tiny boxes of folded paper and tiny bits of wood. Andrew’s bug always seemed to win.

He hadn’t come by to apologize today either. Was he still mad at her? If it wasn’t so late, she would walk out to the farm and tell him how sorry she was. But then, walking that far would make her foot hurt even more. She’d been limping around for several days as it was, and with every twinge she alternated between anger and sorrow.

After the children were in bed and Penny and Hjelmer were reading in the kitchen, Ellie said good-night and went upstairs to finish the letter to her mother. Taking tablet and pen, she sat down at the small table she used as a desk and let her thoughts roam. Would she and Andrew ever sit on their porch with company and have pleasant discussions like this one tonight?Who knew? She picked up the letter where she’d left off.