More Than a Dream (47 page)

That night when Elizabeth and Thorliff changed shifts at the bedside, he asked, ‘‘Is Mor any better?’’

‘‘I don’t think so, but she is no worse either. That is a good thing.’’

Thorliff sighed. ‘‘She is a strong woman, my mor, and a fighter.’’ Staring down at the pale face on the pillows, he fought the tears that threatened.
Please, God, you said that by the stripes of
your Son, we are healed. Let it be so, here and now. Let your Word be
so
.

‘‘Call me if you need me.’’ Elizabeth rose and offered him her chair.

‘‘I will.’’ Thorliff took the hand she held out and clasped it to his cheek. ‘‘Thank you.’’

She’d not been gone long when Haakan drifted in. ‘‘Any change?’’

‘‘She’s holding her own.’’

‘‘I could take this shift. I’m awake anyway.’’

‘‘You sit here, and I’ll go get more broth.’’

Haakan sat and took his wife’s hand in his. The stoop of his shoulders and the weariness in his eyes smote Thorliff right in the heart. His pa looked like he’d aged ten years in the last week. He watched as Haakan’s lips began to move in what Thorliff realized was nearly continuous prayer.

Surely God was listening. Surely.

He returned with cup and spoon and offered them to his father, then took his place on the other side. They had moved Astrid back to her own bed that evening.

‘‘Far, you look done in. Go on to bed.’’

‘‘Can’t sleep anyhow. Close my eyes, and I see those cows drowning in the barn when I could have saved them. I thought to move them west too and didn’t do it. God forgive me. He tried to help me, and I ignored him.’’

Thorliff closed his eyes, prayers fluttering upward as though borne on eagles’ wings. ‘‘He says He forgives, no matter what. That’s what you’ve always told me, you and Mor and Pastor Solberg. The Scriptures never lie.’’

‘‘I know that. My head knows that. I’ve been reading and rereading all the passages I know. But somehow I just can’t let this go. I thank Him for saving us, but my prayers don’t even make it to the ceiling.’’

‘‘You got to have faith, Far, you’ve got to.’’

‘‘And now Ingeborg, if . . .’’ He spooned more broth into her mouth.

Thorliff closed his eyes.
What do I say? What do I do?

Her only movement was the faint motion of her throat as the broth trickled down.

Some time later Thorliff caught himself nodding off and jerked upright. Haakan lay back in the chair on the other side of the bed, gentle snores puffing his lips. Other than that, the silence in the room made Thorliff close his eyes again.
Please, God
. He forced himself to look at his mother, fear gnawing at his mind like a snarl of rats. Was she gone? He studied the bedclothes, relief pouring through him. While the rise of her chest was so faint as to scarcely move the covers, they did move. She was breathing.

He picked up the spoon and the now-turned-cold cup of broth and, ordering his hand to hold steady, held the full spoon to his mother’s lips. ‘‘Please, Mor, drink this. You have to drink!’’ He put all the force of his love into the words, at the same time his mind screaming to his Lord for help. While she swallowed, albeit faintly, part of the liquid dribbled down her chin. Thorliff held another spoonful, tipping it slowly, but the same thing happened again. He mopped her chin with the bed sheet.
Is this doing any good,
Father? Where are you?

Haakan jerked awake with a snort. ‘‘Is . . . is she. . . ?’’

‘‘About the same.’’

‘‘Here, let me try. You go on to bed.’’

Thorliff handed over the cup and spoon, then took the cup back. ‘‘I’ll go heat this up again. Talk to her, Far. We’ve got to keep her here.’’

Haakan gave his son a questioning glance, then looked back to his wife. ‘‘Ingeborg Bjorklund, you cannot die. You hear me? You got to live.’’ He swallowed and knelt by the bed, clasping her flaccid hand. ‘‘Please, God, don’t take her. We—I need her here, for a long time yet.’’ He kissed her hand and smoothed her hair back. ‘‘Hear me, Inge? You got to want to live.’’

Thorliff ignored the tears blurring his vision and turned away to fetch warm broth. He returned in a couple of minutes to see Haakan sitting back in his chair, still clutching his wife’s hand.

‘‘Here, Far. Try some more.’’ He handed Haakan the cup again. ‘‘Unless you want me to do it.’’ Thorliff felt his own tears burning again when he saw the tear tracks on his father’s face.

‘‘Haakan?’’ The name came faintly.

‘‘Yes. Inge, my dear Inge.’’ The spoon and cup clattered to the floor at the same time as Haakan’s knees hit the braided rug.

‘‘Ja, I . . . I . . .’’ The pause caught at Thorliff, but she continued. ‘‘I am still here.’’

‘‘Ja, you are. Please stay. Don’t leave me.’’

‘‘I . . . I . . .’’ A slight smile tugged at her chapped lips. ‘‘I will.’’

‘‘Drink more.’’ Tears rained down Haakan’s cheeks as he spooned more broth, the shaking of his hand causing some to dribble down her face. ‘‘Sorry.’’

‘‘It’s . . . all . . . right.’’

His mother spoke. For the first time in three days, his mother spoke. Was that a bit of color in her cheeks?

Thorliff took a handkerchief from his back pocket and, after wiping his eyes, blew his nose. ‘‘Praise God.’’

‘‘Ja, praise God.’’

The next Sunday as many of the people of Blessing as were able gathered for the regular service at the church.

‘‘Welcome. We are gathered in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, amen.’’ Pastor Solberg glanced around the congregation, his smile reaching every soul there gathered. ‘‘We will sing ‘O God, Our Help in Ages Past,’ for we have indeed been delivered from a stormy blast.’’

Not all of us,
Ingeborg thought as she glanced around. Many families were missing a member, thanks to the cholera scourge.
And I . . . I was almost one of them
. She raised her head to catch Haakan watching her. ‘‘I’m fine.’’ She whispered the words when she’d rather have shouted them to the heavens. Now she truly understood what weak meant. Weak before had meant just birthing a baby, but there was a rope of joy in giving birth that there hadn’t been when she was too weak to even swallow. Never would she have thought she might have to force herself to swallow broth.

She joined her voice with the others, noticing after a few bars that singing took strength too. Like several others, she sat back down at the end of verse one, waving away Haakan’s concern.

After a sermon, short by normal standards since Pastor Solberg had been one of those struck down, and communion had been served, he leaned on the pulpit and took a deep breath.

‘‘I never thought leading worship would wear me out, but thanks be to God, I am still here to do so. Our thanks to each one of you who helped us through this vile illness, and special thanks belong to Dr. Rogers. Please stand and accept our hearty thank you.’’ He nodded to Elizabeth, who rose and returned his smile. When he began clapping, the others joined in—hesitantly at first, after all, they were in church—then with full accord.

When Elizabeth sat back down after nodding her acknowledgment, she whispered to Thorliff, ‘‘Why didn’t you warn me?’’

‘‘I didn’t know.’’

Pastor Solberg raised his hands, the tremors visible only to those closest to the front. ‘‘Now the Lord bless and keep thee, the Lord make his face to shine upon thee and give thee His peace, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, now and forever, amen.’’

Ingeborg felt herself swaying and caught hold of Haakan’s arm.

‘‘I told you that you shouldn’t be out yet.’’ He wrapped his other arm around her waist.

‘‘Maybe not, but I wouldn’t miss church this morning for anything. To think there was no service at all last Sunday.’’ She shook her head. ‘‘Pastor must have been terribly sick.’’

‘‘Not as sick as you were.’’

‘‘That’s because she took care of everyone else until she keeled over.’’ Elizabeth moved closer to Ingeborg and lowered her voice as they made their way out of the sanctuary. ‘‘You might want to consider taking it easy.’’

Ingeborg both smiled and nodded in a small motion and leaned more heavily on Haakan’s arm. She caught a look between Elizabeth and Haakan. ‘‘And don’t you two go ganging up on me.’’ When Thorliff cleared his throat, she added, ‘‘You three. It feels wonderful to be out and about.’’

‘‘Mor.’’ Astrid skidded to a stop. ‘‘Can—’’ She stopped at the look her mother gave her and started again. ‘‘May Ellie come home with us? We are working on a play for school, and I thought maybe Thorliff would help us.’’

‘‘I s’pose. Ask Goodie if—’’

Haakan squeezed her arm. ‘‘Not today. You are not cooking for a group today.’’

‘‘Oh.’’ Ingeborg glanced up at her husband to see concern wrinkling the space between his eyebrows. Usually they had a houseful of company on Sundays, but not since the flood. She caught a sigh before it flew to other ears.
Lord, please give me the
patience to get well at your speed, not mine, and thank you for a man
who cares like my Haakan does
.

They stopped to talk to several other families on the way to the wagon. Kaaren was still home nursing young Samuel, who’d been the sickest in their family, and Penny stopped to visit for only a minute.

‘‘I told Bridget I would come help serve dinner. Mrs. Sam still isn’t as well as she could be, and Henry is still doing poorly too. I do hope we never go through anything like this again.’’

On the ride home Ingeborg turned to Elizabeth. ‘‘Isn’t it strange how the cholera attacks one person and not another?’’

‘‘Like with other diseases, usually the very young and the very old go first. The human body can throw off a lot of disease if it gets enough rest, good food, and clean drinking water. I think we are just beginning to learn where illnesses come from. The more I read about the germ theory, the more I wonder how much we don’t yet know.’’

Haakan cleared his throat. ‘‘I, for one, want to say again our thanks. Not just for us but for the whole community. This cholera epidemic just shows even more clearly how much we need a good doctor close by. You saved lives here, and we will never forget it.’’

Ingeborg slid her hand under his arm and leaned slightly against his shoulder. She knew he was thinking of her when he spoke. Thinking back, she realized how close she had come to death. The light had beckoned her, but Haakan’s voice had called her back. She’d heard the pleading, the agony as he called her name. How could she leave him if she had a choice? If she spoke of this to Elizabeth, would she understand, or was it all a figment of her imagination? Sometimes illness brought on delirium.
One
day I’ll know the answer,
she promised herself.
When God figures
the time is right
.

On Tuesday the men took a break from cleaning up the mudencrusted machinery.

‘‘Good to see stock back in the pasture.’’ Lars leaned on the fence rails.

‘‘Ja.’’ Haakan lifted his hat to stroke his hair back and resettled it where it belonged.

Lars glanced over his shoulder. ‘‘We got a lot to be thankful for.’’

Haakan nodded, but the furrows remained between his eyebrows.

‘‘Can’t keep stewing over what might have been.’’

‘‘You been talking with Ingeborg?’’

Lars shook his head. ‘‘No need. How many years we been working together now?’’

‘‘Ja, I know.’’ Haakan sucked on his teeth. ‘‘Just that—’’

‘‘Pa!’’ Andrew called from the barn. ‘‘Old Maple, she’s starting to have her calf.’’

The two men turned and ambled over to the open barn door and into the box stalls where the old caramel-colored cow, one of the earliest they’d bought, paced the stall, tail twitching. She lay down, then pushed to her feet again.

‘‘You think she’s all right?’’ Andrew stroked the cow’s muzzle and rubbed her throat. She stood a bit for his attentions, then resumed her pacing, checking out each corner and the stall door. ‘‘She’d rather be out in the pasture, I think.’’ Andrew dipped pieces of hay out of the water bucket in the corner rack.

‘‘She’d pick the muddiest low land and get herself all mired in. Perhaps even lose the calf. No, she stays here,’’ Haakan said.