The Reaper's Song (11 page)

Hjelmer raised his right eyebrow.

Penny slipped out the back door as he parted the curtains to the store. If she was like this about the store, what would she be like
with a new baby? she wondered. The thought brought on another smile. What a glorious Saturday morning! Today they were hoping to finish tying off the quilt the ladies had made as a wedding present for Goodie and Olaf. Usually they quilted the pieced wedding-ring pattern in even stitches, but there hadn’t been time to get another one finished since she and Hjelmer had married in the spring. As Agnes had said, they’d better get more quilters the way the weddings were popping up.

Ingeborg had promised to make sure Goodie stayed home with something special to do, and since the twins were doing poorly with the mumps, along with Andrew and Ellie, this was perfect. Penny sneaked a little skip into her fast walk across the four acres to the church. Now that the Bjorklunds had plotted Blessing out in acre parcels ready for sale, she thought of the people who might buy there.

Olaf Wold managed the sack house, where the community’s wheat was stored, and had broken sod to build a home on the acre he’d bought right next to it. That was another thing the community would be doing before harvest—raise a house for the newlyweds.

Would there be more businesses? Like what? With the blink of an eye, Penny could see her store expand to include an eating establishment, much larger than the two tables she’d been thinking of. What if they had a hotel? Or at least a rooming house. She’d heard tell of someone who wanted to open a saloon.

“I know that’s one thing I’m going to bring up for discussion today,” she promised the crow that flew overhead, his raucous cry a bass note in the singing of the prairie grasses. While Haakan and Lars had hayed this entire area, the grass had sprouted again, thanks to the spring rains. Now the stalks stood golden like wheat, only riper and bending to harmonize with the always present wind.

“You surely do seem happy this morning,” Agnes Baard called from her wagon seat.

“Oh, Tante Agnes, on a day like today, who wouldn’t be?” Penny said with a grin as big as the sun.

“Anji for one.”

“How come she’s not with you?” Agnes’s daughter usually came along to take care of the smallest children while their mothers were busy quilting.

“Her neck is still puffy from the mumps. My land, that epidemic sure ran through the families. I think every child in the area had chipmunk jaws, some sicker than others. Ingeborg told me even the
twins had them, but Kaaren said that the night before last a miracle happened at their house.”

“A miracle?” Penny tied Agnes’s horse to the hitching post and removed the bridle. Then while her aunt climbed down, Penny unhitched the horse and tied him again to one of the wagon wheels on a long line so he could graze. Together they carried in their baskets of food and quilting supplies. Back before they had a church and the group was smaller, they met in homes and the hostess made a pot of soup or stew, and the others brought the rest of the meal. Now they all brought sandwiches and a dessert of some kind.

“So, tell me about the miracle.”

“I’ll let Kaaren do that. After all, it’s her story.”

“Then why’d you bring it up? You know how much I hate waiting,” Penny said.

“Seems you’d be over that by now. The good Lord put you in the waiting room for training, I think.”

“Waiting for Hjelmer was different. And you have to admit, it paid off.” Penny began laying out the pieces of material she’d brought.

“Waiting is waiting.”

“Speaking of waiting, how’s Petar?”

“He’s not waiting, he’s pining. That little chit running off like that near to broke his heart.”

“I never did like Clara Johnson much, anyhow. She always thought she could get any boy if she shook her blond curls and twitched her—”

“Penny!”

“Nose.” The younger woman raised her eyebrows. “Why, Tante Agnes, what did you think I was going to say?” Her chuckle carried a bit of impishness in it. “Besides, I heard that things weren’t going quite so well for Miss Johnson. Like she’s still a ‘Miss,’ not a ‘Mrs.’ As you always said, she made her bed, now she has to lie in it.”

“That might be what I said, but I ain’t too sure that’s proper talk for church, and besides, that’s gossip.” Agnes sat down with a sigh.

Penny studied her aunt. Agnes used to be a full-figured woman, with a laugh that shook not only her bosom but a body as strong as a man’s. Now her feet seemed permanently swollen, as though the rest of her had seeped downward and pooled between her toes and her knees. While Agnes’s smile still came regular-like, Penny realized she hadn’t heard her aunt really laugh in a long while. Ever since her last baby was stillborn. And that was some time ago.

“Tante Agnes?” Penny knelt at her aunt’s knees. “Are you all right? Truly?”

“Why, a’course, child. What could be wrong? As you said, this is a day for everyone to be happy.”

Penny took her aunt’s gnarled hands in her own. “You would tell me . . . if . . . if something were indeed wrong? Wouldn’t you?”

“Ah, Penny, my eldest ‘daughter,’ you know I couldn’t love you more if you’d come from within me.”

Penny nodded. She saw Ingeborg standing in the doorway but didn’t let on when Ingeborg raised a finger to her lips. She looked up at her aunt.

Agnes had a faraway look in her eyes, as if she could see something the others didn’t.

The jingle of harness and other voices let Penny know they didn’t have much time. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“I know.” Agnes came back. “There’s something, but I ain’t sure what. I been asking of the Lord, but He ain’t seen fit to answer yet.”

“Do you hurt anywhere?”

“No more’n usual. I get tired more easily.” Agnes cupped her hands around Penny’s jaw. “The good Lord is just giving me a chance to thank Him for all things, even when I’m not too sure what they are. Or where they’re leading. You might just think once in a while to say an extra prayer for me.”

“I will.” Penny got to her feet as a group of women came chattering through the door. As soon as she had a chance, she cornered Ingeborg.

“Do you have any idea what’s wrong with Tante Agnes?” she asked without preamble.

Ingeborg shook her head. “Not for certain, but she’s never been the same since the stillborn baby. I was there with her. She took it mighty hard in her heart, and it seems like her body never got over it either.”

“Was it a hard birth?” Penny kept her voice low and tried to look unconcerned, as if they were having any normal kind of visit.

Ingeborg thought a moment. “Not so terrible hard, but the baby had been dead some time. I think she knew that long before the pains came.” Ingeborg leaned a bit closer. “Your tante Agnes sets great store by babies, you know. She don’t feel right if’n she don’t have one hanging on her skirts or in her arms.”

“I know.”

“Guess it’s about your turn to have the babies and let her love ’em as much as possible.”

“Guess we’ll have to leave that in the good Lord’s hands, as someone we know would say.”

“Would say what?” Kaaren, with the pieced quilt-top over her arm, stopped beside them.

“I’ll tell you later.” Ingeborg raised her voice. “We better get at it, if we’re going to get this done. Goodie suspects something is going on, since she helped make two others.”

Laughter rippled through the gathering group. While two women set up the wooden frame, several others laid out the sheeting, then the wool batting made from the poorer-grade fleece from around the legs and necks of the sheep. Since Ingeborg had the largest flock, she donated many of the battings. Finally the top was laid in place and the three layers pinned and fastened into the frame.

“You think maybe we should tie this one, what with everyone being so busy with getting in the garden and such?” Mrs. Dyrfinna Odell asked.

“I thought we already decided to tie it,” Penny said.

“Well, you know, Miz Peterson would think then we don’t care about her as much as the others. Once you start a tradition, you got to make sure no one feels slighted,” Mrs. Hildegunn Valders said, surveying the quilt on the frame. She shook her head. “This one don’t have so many nice colors as the one we made for Solveig.”

“I brought extra materials,” Penny said. “But that’s for the next top, isn’t it?”

“You want we should take some of those squares out and add in others?” The timid voice of Mrs. Brynja Magron could hardly be heard above the children laughing outside.

“No. We have not the time for that. It will just have to be as it is,” said Hildegunn. Certain that no one would argue with her, she took a seat at the frame. “Brynja, you sit there and, Dyrfinna, you there.” She pointed to the seats on either side of her. “Penny, do you want to take the other side? Or Kaaren?”

“Why don’t we put two to a side, and we can get finished faster?” Ingeborg suggested.

“Then who will lay out the next one?”

“And cut the pieces?”

Brynja and Dyrfinna spoke nearly at the same time.

“I wish Kaaren would read to us while we sew,” Brynja went on.
“Remember when she read the Psalms? That was one of my favorite meetings.”

Kaaren and Penny exchanged looks, their thoughts obvious. Brynja Magron with two opinions at one meeting? Would wonders never cease?

“Well, I’m sure if Kaaren is willing . . . that does leave us with one less to stitch, you know.”

By this time everyone had taken their places, some around one table choosing pieces as soon as they were cut and stitching the squares together for the wedding-ring pattern. The others sat around the sides of the quilt frame.

“Before we begin with the reading, I have something I wish we could talk about.” Penny raised her voice so all could hear her.

“Why, whatever would that be?” Mrs. Odell asked.

“That will wait until we have been edified by our readings,” Mrs. Valders said with a nod of her head. The bit of lace she wore on her upswept hair bobbed as if it, too, thought other ideas frivolous.

Penny bit her lip to keep from saying what she was thinking, but a wink from Ingeborg and a secret smile from Kaaren helped her settle back. A nod and a smile from Agnes beside her made Penny feel like one of them, not like the young-woman-who-should-listen-to-her-elders feeling she got from Mrs. Valders.

Kaaren began with Psalm 118. “ ‘This is the day that the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.’ ”

“Amen” came from several places.

As she continued moving from one Scripture verse to another and reading some that were requested, even the shouts and laughter from the children outside seemed to fade away at the beauty of the words and the power of the promises. “Fear not . . .”

While Kaaren was searching for another psalm just requested, one of the women confessed, “It is easy to say not to be afraid in the summer like this when we are all together, but sometimes in the winter when the wind and the wolves are howling at my door, I’m so frightened my teeth chatter. I will hold this day in my mind to comfort me when winter comes again.”

“That wind makes me think of Satan prowling around. It is him, not the wolves howling, I feel sure,” Ingeborg added with a shudder.

“Nevertheless, God says He will gather us under His wing as a hen does her chicks. That picture comes to me when I begin to be afraid,” Kaaren said softly. “And again, He says He will hold us in the palm of His hand.”

“And against His bosom.”

“He says He is always with us.” Mrs. Odell turned to Agnes. “Can you beat that?”

“Now, now, ladies, let us remember to be reverent. These aren’t words to be taken lightly,” Mrs. Valders scolded.

Penny felt her aunt nudge her knee. She ducked her chin so the smile that tickled the corners of her lips wouldn’t seem like sacrilege. Did God really expect them to go around with long faces all the time?

Kaaren must have read her mind, for next she read, “ ‘Praise the Lord. Let them praise his name in the dance; let them sing praises unto him with timbrel and harp.’ ”

After Kaaren finished reading Psalm 149, Mrs. Valders pushed her chair back. “We need to switch places now. Thank you, Kaaren, for your beautiful reading.”

“I think a prayer would be in order now.” Mrs. Magron brought on more surprised looks.

“Oh, well, I . . .” Mrs. Valders huffed before looking again to Kaaren. “If Kaaren is willing to lead us, I suppose we can take the time.”

Kaaren nodded gravely, but Penny saw the twinkle in her eyes before they all bowed their heads.

“I have an idea,” Kaaren said, her voice as gentle as the dawn. “I will begin the prayer, and then if any of you have something to add, speak up, and afterward, I will begin the Doxology, and we can close with that.”

“Well, I never . . .” Mrs. Valders muttered under her breath.

“Father in heaven, we come before thee with hearts full of praise for all the gifts thou hast bestowed upon us. Thou art our God and we are thy people, the sheep of thy pasture. We thank thee for this day and for the time we have together.” With that, Kaaren paused and a sigh slipped around the room. Silence reigned.

Mrs. Odell whispered into her clasped hands, “I . . . I thank thee for my family and my friends who help make living here on the prairie less of a burden.”

Penny bit her lip. Why was praying out loud with others present so difficult? She nearly sighed in relief when another voice began.

“Father, I thank thee for the new baby that will be coming to our house. I ask that thou keep thy hand upon me and the babe to keep us safe. Frank wants a son again, and if it be thy will, I will rejoice with another boy.”

Penny knew Mrs. Veiglun wanted a daughter. Her first had died in infancy. Why did men think boys were so much more important than girls? She corralled her wayward thoughts, knowing she needed to pray aloud to overcome the fear, if for no other reason.

“Father God, I . . .” Her mind acted like a blackboard wiped clean. She worried her lip again. The silence stretched. She could hear Agnes breathing beside her. “I pray for my tante Agnes that thy hand may bring strength and renewed health to her, that she will again go about with singing. Father, I miss her laughter.” Penny fought the tears rising in her throat. “I thank thee in advance for hearing my prayers.” She wanted to say more, so many things needed praying for, but the words wouldn’t—couldn’t pass the pocket of tears. So she prayed them silently: for her newfound cousin, for her store, and for Hjelmer, that he would find a way to mend the fences his land-buying had brought down.