“Have you really looked at him?” Elizabeth asked, staring down at the little face.
“No.”
Yesterday I couldn’t bear to, but now I can.
“If I can see something wrong, I think it will be easier to bear.”
Astrid sat on the edge of the bed and peeled back the blanket. Together they studied the baby, searching for any reason that he’d died. She turned him over, and they both caught their breath. There was a hole in the spine, low in the back, just above the tiny pelvic bones.
Thorliff walked in, followed by his mother. “You found it.”
“Ja, we just did.”
“I saw it last night or early this morning, whatever it was. Something kept him from developing right. He could not have lived with that anyway.”
Elizabeth nodded, tracing the tiny cheek with a gentle fingertip. “What are we naming him?”
“I thought Roald, after my father.”
Elizabeth nodded. “That is good.” Her chin and lips quivered. “When will you bury him?”
“Today. Far has the box all made.”
“I won’t be able to go, will I?”
“No, I think not. Now you must rest and get your strength back.” He laid his palm along her cheek.
Astrid and Ingeborg left the room and the two they loved to grieve together. They waited in the hall, holding each other and letting the tears flow. “Was this why I had to come home, you think?” Astrid asked her mother.
“Ja. We needed you. And still do.”
“I know.”
But what about Africa? Haven’t I made a commitment
there too?
C
an I play with all of you at the dance tomorrow night?” Johnny asked when he spotted Joshua sitting on the porch after lunch.
Joshua stared at his young protégé. Asking took a lot of courage. He should’ve offered to let him play, but he’d had so much else on his mind, he’d not thought of it. “Of course. The songs you know anyway.”
“I’ve been practicing a lot. I asked Mr. Knutson which songs I needed to learn for the dance, and he said I should ask you if you think I am ready for this.” Johnny pulled a piece of paper with a list written on it from his pocket. “I know most of these. You were gone a long time, you know.”
Joshua scanned down the list. “Pretty complete. You have to keep up with the rest of us.”
“I will. Thank you, sir.”
Joshua grinned and tousled the boy’s hair. “You’re the one who has put in the work.”
“When are you going to start on your house again?”
“I’ll be starting in about fifteen, twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be there.” Johnny leaped from the porch of the boardinghouse and ran down the street, puffs of dirt from bare feet slapping the soil marking his way.
Joshua watched him go. Now if they could only find a bass player. While the gut bucket was sufficient for the beat, a bass fiddle would be really fine—and expensive. He’d played a while with a group that had a banjo too. He pushed himself to his feet and headed back upstairs to get his tools and leather gloves. While picking up his gear, he stopped to study the diagrams of the house he wanted to order. He could at least contact Sears and Roebuck and ask how long the waiting period would be before the house was shipped. Write a letter or telephone?
Why would they want to talk with him when he couldn’t put in the order right now? But they could answer his questions, he reminded the common sense side of his mind. The one frequently in battle with giving up. Strolling down the stairs, the fragrance of dried-apple pie reminded him that a cup of coffee with dessert would be mighty tasty right now.
“Did you hear the news?” Sophie asked when his feet hit the main floor. “Dr. Elizabeth is on the mend.”
“That’s good to hear. The baby?”
“Died before it was born.” She gave a sigh.
Oh, Lord, what will this do to Astrid?
“How very sad.”
“It is. They wanted this baby so badly. It was a boy but had a problem with his back, most likely why he died like that.”
And here he’d been grumbling to himself that even though Astrid was in town, she sure didn’t have time for him. “Maybe Astrid will be able to come to the party tomorrow night.”
“I hope so. She needs to get out and have some fun. It’s been a grueling trip home so far. A couple of square dances will help lighten the sorrow.” She tapped a sheaf of papers on end and stacked them in one of the slots on her desk. Glancing up at Joshua, she grinned at him with raised eyebrows. “Astrid?”
“Um, Dr. Bjorklund.” He heaved a sigh. “I need to be more circumspect, don’t I?”
“Not with me, but there are others who think proper behavior is very important, especially between unmarried women and unmarried men.”
Well he knew whom she was referring to. “You going to the dance?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She glanced down at her expanding middle. “Some think women carrying babies shouldn’t be out dancing, but some of us are good at ignoring strictures that seem less than necessary.” A sparkle lit her eyes. “Tante Ingeborg says exercise of any kind is good for the expectant mother. We have healthier babies that way, rather than staying out of sight and languishing on a settee in a shaded room.” Referring to the mores of Victorian society well published in women’s magazines made Sophie grin again. “I’m glad I live in Blessing and not in Chicago or Minneapolis.”
Again Joshua felt a little overwhelmed by Sophie’s candor. He decided to try a safer conversation. He wanted to ask where Miss Christopherson was but decided that could be misconstrued too. “Any idea when Jonathan will be back?”
“He’s visiting his parents in New York City. Not sure when he and Grace will get here.”
“Leaves us with no one on the piano now, with Dr. Bjorklund laid up.”
“True. But we’ll still have a grand time. We need to have dances and parties more often.”
Joshua inwardly shook his head. Here she was a mother of twins, two stepchildren, and another on the way, and she was always ready to encourage community get-togethers. When he thought about it, he learned all the town news from Sophie. Between her and Mrs. Valders, secrets were nonexistent in Blessing, North Dakota. But with Sophie one never felt it was gossip, just passing on the news.
Sophie caught him lifting his head to trail the enticing smell coming from the kitchen. “If the pies were out of the oven, I’d get you a piece, but they are not.”
He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Guess I’ll be on my way, then. Thanks.” He slapped his gloves on her raised counter and moseyed on out the door. Down the street he could see Trygve and Gilbert loading the wagons to head out to drill more wells again early on Sunday morning. They had no intention of missing the dance. He whistled to catch their attention and waved. On one hand he wished he were going with them, but on the other, the anticipation of starting the new building picked up his feet and carried him over to his hole in the ground, as he called it.
The dirt floor was now dry from the snow melt, and he started clearing out dirt that caved in from the sides during the winter and spring freeze and thaw. As he tossed shovelfuls of dirt into the wheelbarrow, he let pictures of his house, his first home ever, float through his mind.
Johnny trotted down the ramp they’d built where the coal chute would be, grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow, and pushed it up the grade to dump into one of the piles back a ways from the hole.
Hjelmer appeared next. “You got the boards to start your forms?”
“Nope. Didn’t know I was going to have a chance to work on this.”
“Okay. Johnny and I’ll bring some over from the lumberyard.”
“You need another hand?” Pastor Solberg asked as he joined him in the hole a few minutes later. “What with school out and the hay far from ready to cut, I need something to get me back in condition for haying.”
“They’re loading the wagon over at the lumberyard.”
“You mind if I join them?”
“Not at all.” Sure different from last fall, he thought. He’d been uncomfortable then when men volunteered. Now he just accepted gratefully. When the wagon arrived, they unloaded the lumber and stacked it off to one side.
“I’m sorry,” Joshua said to Thorliff when he later joined them in the hole.
Thorliff nodded. “Some physical work will help. Elizabeth is sleeping and looking better.”
“Glad to hear that.”
Before dusk they had two walls framed in, ready for concrete. Thorliff had been pounding nails like he was trying to kill off his grief. No one had said another thing about the tragedy, but Joshua wasn’t surprised. That’s just the way men were.
He took his hat off and wiped his brow with the rolled-back sleeve on his right arm, staring all the while at what they’d accomplished.
“You bought the gravel and cement yet?” Solberg asked.
“No. I never dreamed I’d get this far in a month. Of course, until yesterday I thought I was heading out again to drill wells and put up windmills. I might actually get a house up this summer after all.”
“Oh, we’ll get your house up. Never fear.” Solberg clapped him on the shoulder. “Maybe not finished, but up.”
“We’ll start grading that piece tomorrow at daylight,” Hjelmer said after greeting them all and getting razzed for disappearing for a while. “I ordered a carload of gravel and sand. Should arrive in a couple of days.”
Thorliff stared down into the hole. “Thanks, Joshua. I needed this kind of hard work today.” He shook Pastor Solberg’s hand. “Thanks, as always, for being here when we need you. Elizabeth asked if you could stop back by before you head on home.”
Joshua got a lump in his throat just thinking about what they’d referred to. Burying a baby, and Dr. Bjorklund couldn’t even be there.
Back in the boardinghouse cleaning up before he went down for a supper that had been kept for him, he thought back to those who’d helped him. Were they there for him or for Thorliff, or perhaps both? Why had it not been like that when he was growing up? He’d lived four miles from a small town, but he didn’t remember people taking care of each other like they did here. Or was it that his father drove away those who would have been his friends? If that were the case, it must have been terribly hard on his mother. Maybe he’d ask his brothers and sister some more questions when he wrote, or if and when he could encourage them to come north to Blessing. On the way home, he had swung by the surgery, hoping to see Astrid, hoping she’d be sitting on the porch and he could at least say hello. But the porch had been empty, and he didn’t want to knock on the door in case she was too busy. So he’d gone on to the boardinghouse. Perhaps tomorrow night she’d be at the dance.
“YOU GO ON home and get ready for the dance tonight,” Ingeborg told her daughter the next afternoon. “I will stay with Elizabeth.”
“But you love a party too.”
“I know, but you’ve been gone, and this will be a good homecoming celebration.”
Astrid stared at her mother. Was she ignoring the fact that she might still be going to Africa? “If only there was more we could do for Elizabeth.”
“You’re changing the subject.” The tinkle of the bedside bell brought them both to the sickroom door.
“You decided to wake up.” Astrid smiled down at her patient.
Elizabeth nodded. “It’s over, isn’t it?” Her hand shook as she brushed the tears from her eyes.
Both Astrid and Ingeborg sniffed along with her. “Ja, it is. They buried Roald yesterday. You have been sleeping after your ordeal. Thorliff is trying to protect you, you know.”
“I know. Getting up to be there would not have been a good idea, but I wanted to. Why is it that good sense and what one feels do not always go hand in hand?”
“I wish I knew. But you are doing well. You know that.”
“I do. And before you can remind me, I know that sleeping is a good thing, and my body will heal faster if I take it easy, and all this helps keep the bleeding under control.”
Ingeborg and Astrid exchanged smiles. “Guess we’re not needed here after all.”
Ingeborg turned to Elizabeth. “I told this other doctor that she should go to the party tonight. I will stay with you.”
“Actually, I think you should both go. Between Thelma and Thorliff, I have plenty of keepers. Perhaps tomorrow you could bring Inga home. I need to hear her laughing and singing and running up the steps.”