No Distance Too Far (30 page)

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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

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BOOK: No Distance Too Far
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“I’ll bring it right out.” Ingeborg hurried back into the surgery, ignoring the beautiful morning, wishing only that she could provide a long lifetime of mornings for the man in the wagon. What dosage should she recommend? Would she want to be knocked out or be aware of those around if she were in this position? How could she ask such a thing? How much was a lethal dose? That thought made her hand shake as she mixed the potent medicine.

Taking the bottle back outside, she handed it to the woman now seated on the driver’s bench. “Give him one tablespoon at a time whenever he gets restless. If you give him less, he will be more aware of those around him.”

The two women stared into each other’s eyes. The wife nodded. “Thank you.” She backed the horses and drove away, Ingeborg watching as the dust rose under the horses’ hooves.
Please, Lord, ease
his suffering, and take him home soon.
She rolled her lips together and blinked repeatedly as she walked around the house and entered through the back door. She had to have time to compose herself before returning to the examining rooms.

Thelma handed her a cup of coffee and motioned her to be seated. “Miss Astrid is seeing the other patients now.”

“Thank you.” Sitting in the rocking chair with her head back, Ingeborg remembered Astrid writing from Chicago that there had been a discussion on vaccinations that had been developed. One was for rabies. But what about treatment for someone who had been bitten? Did she want to vaccinate everyone in the region around the rabid animals? How far had the rabies traveled? And what brought it on?

She drained her coffee and headed back into the fray. Hearing the male voices from the dining room, she sighed. She was supposed to be in there for the meeting. She tapped on the closed door to an examining room. At the “Come in” she entered and whispered what she’d done in Astrid’s ear.

“You go on,” Astrid told her. “I’ll take care of this. Go to Elizabeth when you’re finished.”

Leaving one room and opening the door to another was like stepping across a large divide. “Sorry to be so long,” she said, “but we had a bit of an emergency.”

“Glad you could come,” Thorliff said, standing to pull out a chair for her next to Haakan. Daniel Jeffers and Hjelmer were both leaning forward, elbows on their knees.

“We’ve been discussing building the plant for manufacturing the seeder improvement right here in Blessing, as you know,” Thorliff told her.

Haakan squeezed her hand gently. “I brought the wagon, in case you can come home for a bit today.”

Ingeborg nodded and dug in her pocket for a piece of paper. “I have here a list of questions I thought about during the night.” She unfolded the paper and laid it on the table. “I know you’ve discussed some of these already, but here they are.” She read from her list. “Number one. Where will you find enough men around here to work in the plant?”

“We plan on running advertisements in regional newspapers and perhaps even in the national papers.”

“Two. Where will you house them?”

“The boardinghouse to start with. We are buying land south of the flour mill so that we can extend the railroad siding and not have to put in a new one.” Thorliff laid a sketch of a building on the table. “A simple building with a concrete floor, two story at one end to make office room. We’ll make sure it is easy to add on to, for when we need to expand.”

“I thought you were going to use the old grainery.” Ingeborg looked from Thorliff to Jeffers.

“We think it best to use that for now so we can get started. But it just isn’t big enough,” Thorliff answered with a shrug.

“We’ve talked with Sophie about adding on to the boardinghouse, and while she is not overly excited about the prospect, she and Garth are discussing it.” Hjelmer glanced around the table. “And we are talking about building a group of small houses across the tracks.”

“Small houses?”

“One or two bedrooms, and a kitchen that includes sitting space . . . not sure whether a cellar or not. More the size of a large sod house.” Hjelmer shoved several drawings her way.

Ingeborg studied the papers. “How will there be a well and outhouse, and a garden, on plots this small?”

“We are thinking of digging one well to take care of all of them, so each house would have running water.”

“Inside bathrooms?”

The men shook their heads as one.

“Mor, most of the houses in Blessing don’t have indoor plumbing yet.”

“I know, but give us a couple of years, and that will change. You might want to wire them for electricity too.”

Hjelmer grinned at Thorliff, an “I told you so” kind of look.

“The Women’s Aide has been discussing this kind of thing, you know. Blessing is known for being progressive. If we are encouraging families to move here, we will need to provide schooling. And if the expansion goes on with Kaaren’s school, we will need homes for families with deaf children also. These houses you are thinking of building are for single men who would most likely rather be at a boardinghouse. What about building another boardinghouse here if Sophie is not interested in adding on?”

Ingeborg glanced over at Daniel Jeffers, who met her gaze and smiled back.

“I feel like we are almost revamping Blessing with all these plans,” he said.

“We are,” Hjelmer said. “When you think that we are building a hospital, well . . . Thorliff received a letter from a dentist asking about office space, and there will be others. We must always be thinking ahead.”

A knock on the door stopped the discussion.

“Come in,” Thorliff answered.

Astrid stuck her head in. “Mor, sorry, but we need you.” She smiled at her father and withdrew.

Ingeborg stood. “Thank you for inviting me.” She left the room, her heart pounding. Was it Elizabeth?

23

G
oing home to Blessing. A tune picked up the words and danced through his mind. Joshua let the song grow, running it over and over until he was sure it felt right. Wishing he had paper and guitar, he flipped the reins over the backs of the team. “Pick up your feet, boys. We’re almost home.” The question that had been nibbling away at the back of his mind reared its not pretty head again. What if Astrid were on her way to Africa?

“You think Hjelmer has more work for us?” Gilbert called from the other wagon.

He nodded and tossed his answer back. “I’m sure of it. If not drilling wells, there will be something else.” Confidence was not an issue here. Hjelmer always needed more help. Talk about an idea man. Between him and Thorliff, they could keep a crew of a hundred busy. The biggest problem was not finding work but finding workers. He wished his brother would sell the farm and come join him here. Perhaps his brother-in-law too. What would it be like to have his family around? They could live in his house, once he got it up, while putting up their own. Astrid continued to float on the edges of his mind.

Please, Lord, let her be back in Blessing.
He knew this prayer came under the heading of selfish, but how could he court her long distance? Neither of them was exemplary in letter writing. Her excuse was she spent every free moment memorizing Scripture. His? To be honest, he didn’t much like writing letters, mostly because his were boring.
Yester
-
day we raised the last of ten windmills.
What an accomplishment.
Mr.
Smith was well pleased, as were all the others. Other than the Rude couple.
The memory of seeing their bodies still bothered him, even though the sheriff had said the deaths were of natural causes, meaning some kind of sickness. Joshua shook his head. Too many things didn’t add up.

He shook off the thoughts, rested his elbows on his knees, and let his mind float back to the tune that was still teasing him. Home to Blessing. Back to Blessing. He moved words around for both the opening line and the title. Home. Funny how Blessing had become home to him in such a short time.

Will Astrid be home in Blessing? Will she stay there if she is home?
Or was she on her way to Africa? He’d gone to the grade school and looked on a world map to see which countries were in Africa. Somehow when he went to school, he’d not had a lot of interest in world geography.

Trygve, driving the other wagon, signaled a stop. Joshua did so, stepping down to get a drink of water from the barrel. The water was warm, but it was liquid and soothed the dust in his throat. He half filled a couple of buckets and watered his team and then handed the buckets off for the other. Any more water wouldn’t be good for the animals. He soaked his kerchief from the spigot and wrapped it around his neck.

“Any biscuits left from breakfast?” Trygve asked, soaking his own bandanna.

Joshua nodded. “In the breadbox.”

“Cheese?”

“Nope.”

“Meat?”

He shook his head. Good thing they were nearing home. The larder needed restocking. “We shoulda kept those rabbits you snared.”

Trygve shrugged. “Those folks needed them more than we did. Sometimes I wonder why more families don’t teach their sons to run snare lines. There’s always plenty of rabbits around.”

“No reason girls couldn’t do so.” The family they’d just left had three girls. The oldest helped her mother in the house, but the next two helped their father in the fields because there were no sons. Yet. Perhaps the one under the mother’s apron would break the cycle.

“You ought to go back and teach them how. That oldest girl had her eye on you.”

Joshua enjoyed watching the red creep up Trygve’s neck and collect on his cheekbones.

“Let’s get rolling. I’m ready for some of my mother’s home cooking.” Trygve strolled back to the supply wagon and swung up into the driver’s seat. He clucked the horses forward, making Gilbert scramble to get seated.

Joshua chuckled to himself.
One of these days, son, you’ ll find that
special girl and then you’ ll be fun to watch.

They saw the flour mill first, then the grain elevator. As the buildings grew into their entirety, the horses picked up their feet even faster. With home in sight they well knew the way and wanted to get there.

They parked the wagons behind the blacksmith shop and stripped off the harnesses. With the horses loosed in the pasture, the men retrieved their personal belongings from the chuck wagon and waved at Mr. Sam as they left for their homes. Joshua headed to the boardinghouse, the idea of a bath in hot water that didn’t need to be hauled nor heated top in his mind. Besides, someone there would know if Astrid was in town or where she was.

“Welcome home,” Gerald called from the steps of the bank building, which they’d come to call the new building that housed the bank, the post office, the barber, and the telephone exchange.

Joshua waved back. “Thanks. Good to be here.” But he didn’t slow down. Once he got a bath, he’d get a haircut. His mail, if he had any, would be at the boardinghouse. A letter from Astrid would be better than nothing. He took the steps two at a time and let the screen door slam behind him.

“Welcome home,” Sophie called, sitting behind the desk in the foyer. “You have mail. We put it on your bed.”

“Thanks.” He stopped. “How you doing?”

“Getting bigger. One would think four children enough.”

Joshua paused. She’d done it again. Forthright was a good word for Sophie, a trait that got her in trouble rather regularly. But he still hesitated discussing such personal things as having a baby.

Sophie leaned on the counter. “She’s back.”

Nonchalant would be appropriate here. Instead, he stumbled on the edge of the carpet. He didn’t bother asking who or some other subterfuge. His voice squeaked instead. “Astrid, er, Dr. Bjorklund?”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Who else would you be interested in? I’m not blind and dumb, you know.”

“For good?”

“I don’t know that, and I don’t think she does at this point either. But she’s staying at the surgery to be close to the other Dr. Bjorklund. If I’d known where to send mail for you, I would have done that.”

“Thank you. I still have a room here, I take it?”

“Didn’t have to use yours yet, but the way Hjelmer and Thorliff are planning, we might need to one of these days. They asked if I wanted to add on to the boardinghouse.”

“And will you?”

She paused and wrinkled her mouth. “I just don’t know. My husband thinks it a good idea, but I guess I need to think on it more. Besides the investment of money, I’d need to find more help, and you know what that is like here.” She switched to a smile. “But enough about me and the boardinghouse. There’s plenty of hot water, and if you want us to do your laundry, just toss the bag on the back porch. They’re done for today but will be back at it early in the morning.”

“Thank you. Not sure how long before we head out again, but surely we’ll be here long enough for the laundry to get done. Thanks for the information.” He turned and headed for the stairs.

In his room he dropped his belongings on the floor and reached for the letters on his bed. Three. Not a lot for being gone a little more than three weeks, but since two of them were from Astrid, he could feel a grin stretching his face. He pulled clean clothes from the drawers, grabbed his towel and shaving things, and strode to the bathroom down the hall, the door wide open saying no one was using it.

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