The Reaper's Song (19 page)

“Ja, well, Bridget will have you up and about in no time, or will know the reason why.”

“I hope so,” Haakan muttered. “I truly hope so.”

They could hear the laughter and chatter from the rest of the house, so the bedroom seemed an island of peace. Ingeborg adjusted her child so both of them were more comfortable. “We got two young folk that don’t appear too happy to be here,” she told her husband, describing to him how the greeting had gone. “And to think that tomorrow is the house-raising. ‘Uff da’ is right.”

N
o, you go on to the house-raising,” Haakan insisted. “That’s a great chance for you to get to know all the people around here. Besides, they’ve all been looking forward to meeting you. Ingeborg said she and Metiz would take turns being here.”

“Well, if you are sure . . .” Bridget cupped her hands at her waist, the only time they were ever still. Usually they held a ball of yarn and knitting needles if nothing else. Since all the babies had already adopted her as their own, one or more usually perched on her arm or clung to her skirt.

“The wagon is all packed.” Ingeborg stopped in the doorway. “Thorliff will drive.” She shifted from foot to foot rocking Astrid on her hip. She looked from her husband to Bridget. “Is there something wrong?”

“I can stay here.” Bridget gestured toward the man in the bed.

“No, you go on. Goodie will introduce you around, and you already met Agnes Baard.” She stepped closer to Bridget so Goodie wouldn’t overhear. “They really need every needlewoman they can get. The wedding-ring quilt for Goodie and Olaf isn’t finished, so as many of the women as can are going to stay out in the church and try to finish it. I’ll be along in a while.”

“What needs to be done?”

“Just the tying of it. Last time I saw, it was about half finished.” “And bind the edges?”

“Ja, that too.”

“Katy is a wonder with a needle. I’m not sure about Sarah.”

“If Ilse would help watch the younger children, that would be good.”

Bridget shook her head. “Poor child, to watch both her mor and
her far die like that. She tried so hard to save them. We had to restrain her to keep her from throwing herself into the ocean after them—at the burial, you know.”

Ingeborg closed her eyes.
Oh, Lord, such pain and agony for one so young. Help us to be her family
.

“Come on, Bestemor.” Thorliff stuck his head in the door. “We might miss out.”

“I’m sure there will be plenty to do.” Ingeborg smiled at her mother-in-law. “You go on now and have a good time. I saw Kaaren and Lars go by a few minutes ago. Besides, you’ve never seen sod cutting and building like we do here. You’ll learn of many new things.”

Bridget nodded. “I’ll get my sewing supplies and a fresh apron. Maybe I can buy some cotton for summer dresses for Katy, Sarah, and me. Dakota is warmer than I thought.” She fanned herself with her apron. “And not even midmorning yet.”

When the house stood quiet again, Ingeborg looked out across the fields. So many things had to be done before winter—harvesting, canning and pickling, fall butchering and smoking the meat. And no one was even busting sod. Haakan’s acreage hadn’t been touched since last fall, and they still had fifty acres to break on the last half-section they’d bought. She sat down beside Haakan’s bed to nurse Astrid.

“I cannot believe I am so sick I can’t even move.” He rolled his head from side to side. “Four days now and still I’m no better. Worse, for that matter.” He looked at Ingeborg. “How can such a simple thing as mumps cause such . . . such . . .” He sighed. “I don’t know which is worse, the liquor or the laudanum. My head feels like it’s ready to burst.”

“You want I should read to you?” She cupped one hand around the nursing Astrid and leaned forward to retrieve the Bible from the stand by the bed.

“No, you go on.”

“I can’t drive and nurse Astrid at the same time, so I may as well read.” She opened the book in what lap she had left and began reading Psalm 91. “ ‘He who abides in the shelter of the most high . . .’ ”

“No, not there. Try Job, the part where his friends are forsaking him.”

Ingeborg turned to the requested passage, keeping the smile his request brought tucked safely away. This was one of the last sections she would ever choose to read. But if Haakan was feeling like Job
right about now, with swelling or running sores, neither were borne easily. She looked up to see that he’d drifted off to sleep, as had his daughter.

Ingeborg put the Bible away, adjusted her clothing and, carefully rising with the sleeping bundle in her arms, left the room. Astrid was getting too big to be carried around like this. Perhaps with the new baby on the way, she should think about weaning Astrid. She put the thought away to bring out later. She sighed. Babies grew up so fast.

Metiz sat on the back stoop weaving a willow basket. The new shoots that she worked with bent easily in her fingers, now crooked with swollen joints. “You go. I will stay.”

Ingeborg sat down on the steps with her friend. “I will, but in the meantime, is there anything else we can do for Haakan to make him more comfortable?”

Metiz motioned to a basket she was filling with the willow bark she stripped off the limbs. “Drink more tea.”

“Is there any kind of poultice that would draw out the swelling?”

“Don’t know. Ask Great Spirit.”

“I have been.” Ingeborg propped her chin on her hands and her elbows on her knees. “I should go hunting instead of to the house-raising. With all these extra mouths to feed, a deer would sure help.”

“Send Baptiste.”

Ingeborg nodded. “Yes, I will tomorrow, but I miss the woods, the hunt. It’s so different than here at the house—quiet and cooler under the trees.”

Metiz slapped a mosquito buzzing around her ear. “Bugs too.” Ingeborg smiled. “You’re right. There’s always a fly in the ointment.”

Metiz looked her a question.

“Just a saying.” Ingeborg got to her feet. “Dinner is in the oven.” She watched Metiz’ flying fingers. “You ought to sell your baskets in Penny’s store.”

“This is for Goodie. Wedding gift.” She squinted up at Ingeborg. “I ask Penny.”

When Ingeborg finally arrived at the house-raising with Astrid, everyone was hard at work. She’d just stepped out over the wheel rim of the wagon when Thorliff ran up. “I’ll take care of your horse.”

He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Think I’ll go dump a bucket of water over me when I get the horses a drink.”

“Would you please bring the baskets from the wagon when you come?” Ingeborg slung Astrid onto her hip and lifted one of the baskets out with her other hand. “Thanks, son. You are always such a big help.”

“Hi, Inge. Can you use some help?” Penny met her and reached for Astrid, who waved her arms and jabbered a welcome all her own. “She’s going to be talking before you know it.”

“Ja, and now that she can walk, she’ll soon be running after those brothers of hers.”

“When did that happen?” Penny tickled Astrid and made her giggle. “So you’re a big girl, walking now.”

Astrid reached for the ground with both arms.

“Ja, but she gets in a hurry, and it is back down on the knees. It’s hard to crawl on the dirt with a dress, but she manages. Hard on the dresses, though.”

“You should put her in pants.” Penny whirled around to make Astrid laugh again.

“Penny Bjorklund, what an idea.” Ingeborg laughed along with the other two.

“Well, if her ma can wear pants . . .”

“Shush.” A finger to her mouth did nothing to stop the dancing in her eyes.

“I’d wear britches in a minute if Hjelmer wouldn’t have an absolute conniption.” Penny kept her voice low. “Especially when I ride.”

The sound of hammers and saws, laughter and shouts told of everyone having a good time in spite of the hard work. Ingeborg looked around. “Where’s Hjelmer?”

“Oh, a man came needing the tongue repaired on his wagon. Hjelmer is teaching Ephraim to help in the blacksmith shop, so they’ll be along later once they get it fixed.” She twirled Astrid around again. “Well, I suppose I better get on over to the church. Looks like they put Katy to carrying the water bucket today.” She grinned over at Ingeborg. “That’s one way to get her introduced around.”

“Ja, if some of those men don’t fall off the roof asking for a drink.”

“How’s Haakan?”

Ingeborg shook her head. “Not too good. I probably should have
stayed home, but Metiz is there. She’ll keep pouring her teas down him, even though he says they taste so vile he’s going to get better just to get away from them.”

Penny waved back at a greeting shouted from one of the men on the house framing. “I should have just brought the mail with me. Guess I’ll open the store later so people can get their mail and whatever else they need before they head home.”

Carrying their baskets, they made their way to the already laden tables set up in the shade of the sack house. After setting her burdens down, Ingeborg gave in to Astrid’s demands to be let down.

“I’ll watch her.” Braids bobbing as she ran, Anji Baard skidded to a stop beside her. “Ma said to come on over to the church soon as you got here. We’ve got the little ones playing in the sack house.”

“Mange takk.” Ingeborg relinquished her daughter. “Is Mrs. Bjorklund over there and Sarah too?”

“You mean Grandma Bjorklund?”

Ingeborg nodded. At that same instant she heard a voice raised, this time in anger, not glee. She turned to where the older boys were splitting shingles.

As big as the oldest one there, Hamre stood so fast that the wooden butt he was sitting on toppled sideways. He threw down his tools and stalked off.

“What is that all about?” Ingeborg started toward the shingle splitters.

Lars came up behind her. “Let me handle this.”

Ingeborg looked at Thorliff just in time to catch him snitching a roll from a covered basket. She shook her head and nodded toward the other boys. Thorliff shrugged, stuffed the roll in his mouth, and dogtrotted to catch up with Lars.

When Lars came back a few minutes later, Ingeborg asked him a question with her eyebrows.

“I have no idea.” Lars shrugged in return. “Something or someone got under Hamre’s skin, but no one is talking. I got me a feeling that boy has a bad temper with a mighty short fuse on it.”

“So where is he going?”

“To walk this off. He’ll be back.” Lars pushed his hat back to wipe the sweat from under his hat band. “You think it’s the heat?”

“Penny, where’s Hjelmer?” one of the men called.

“Over home on a hurry-up wagon repair.”

“Ja, he’s too busy making money to help out like the rest of us.” Anner Valders spoke just loudly enough for Penny to hear.

When Penny started forward, Ingeborg put a hand on her arm. “Just let it go.”

“Good thing someone’s making money,” someone else said and brought a laugh from those around him.

But Ingeborg caught the look on Anner’s face and knew
he
wasn’t teasing.
Oh, Lord, how long will that man carry this grudge? Instead of getting better, I think it’s getting worse. Please do something to bring him to his senses
.

“Come on, let’s go work on that quilt.”

“Anner Valders makes it real easy for me to hate him.”

“Oh, Penny, please don’t go that far. That’s what’s wrong with him, and you don’t want to be like that. You know what God says about letting a root of bitterness grow. It can destroy a person.”

“Sometimes I wish it would destroy Anner.”

“Penny Sjorenson Bjorklund! For shame!”