A Measure of Mercy (10 page)

Immediately, Joshua felt struck by how much he’d rather she stay where she was.

“Please forgive me. I . . . I’m sorry. Oh my. What will people think?” She rolled her eyes, then mopped them again. “I’m in for it now.”

“In for what? In what?” If he thought he was confused before, this was not helping.

“Standing here in your arms. Behaving like . . . like . . .” She couldn’t seem to find the right words, and an errant sob caught her throat. She turned and started again for home. After a few paces she muttered. “You must think me deranged or something.”

He shrugged. “Nope. That hadn’t entered my mind.” He gave his voice a lighter, almost teasing tone. “Should it? Enter my mind, that is?”

Astrid sucked in a mighty breath and blew it all out. “I hope not.” She brushed tendrils of hair back from where they stuck on her now drying cheeks and adjusted her hat. Hearing the horse and buggy clip-clopping behind them, they turned and stepped to the side of the road. It wasn’t just her mother and father, but several other buggies too and wagonloads of people going to the Bjorklund house for Sunday dinner.

Haakan
whoa
’d the horse, and the buggy eased to a stop. “Your mother was worried about you.”

Ingeborg gave his arm a push and
tsk
ed. “Would you like a ride?”

“I’ll be all right, Mor. Don’t worry. We’ll see you at the house.” She glanced up at Joshua, and he nodded back to her. They turned and kept walking as the others passed them. Her cousins didn’t even make teasing comments. Their faces showed their concern.

Thorliff and Elizabeth were the last to drive by, and he stopped his horse. “Get in.”

Astrid shook her head. Joshua couldn’t resist a smile. His own attempts to boss his younger siblings often had the same effect.

“Please, Astrid, join us so we can talk,” Elizabeth said, leaning forward. “Inga is with the others.”

Astrid heaved a sigh. “You needn’t make a scene of this. I can explain my behavior.”

Thorliff’s eyebrows met his hatband. “Something sure hit you hard. I remember one time when I tried to outrun some demons. It doesn’t work. Just gives you an aching chest and blisters on your feet.”

“I didn’t run.”

“Close to it. But if you would rather walk it off, we’ll meet you at the house,” Elizabeth said.

“But—I—” Thorliff gave his wife a husbandly look.

“We’ll see you at the house,” Elizabeth finished, at the same time giving him a poke in the side.

Astrid rolled her lips together, and Joshua could see she was fighting back another wave of tears.

The breeze blew the dust to the south so they didn’t have to choke on it. Instead, they walked together wrapped in a silence that felt as comfortable as a well-washed quilt.

A meadowlark clinging to a goldenrod loosed his song in notes of joy that Joshua was sure he could see sparkling in the sun. Dewdrops still outlined a spider’s web in dots of glitter, a prism of golden rays.

“Thank you,” Astrid said.

“You are welcome.”

“I suppose you want to know what happened.”

“Only if you want to tell me.” Joshua wasn’t sure he wanted to break this peaceful silence they had back.

“Not sure if I want to, but . . .” The silence stretched for several paces. They could hear Barney barking, welcoming everyone home. “You know when Reverend Schuman said God was calling people to come serve in Africa?”

“Yes. Missionaries always say that. Several came to the church near the farm in Iowa, and they always needed more missionaries in Africa, China, India, everywhere. They also needed money to help their missions. So I gave some.”

“He said they need those with medical training. It was like he was staring right at me and talking right to me.”

“I see.” Joshua struggled to find words so as not to offend her, but he really hadn’t been listening too closely.

“Thank you for coming with me—and sharing your handkerchief.” She held up the soaked and crumpled bit of cloth. “I’ll wash it for you.”

He smiled at her. “That’s not necessary.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He shook his head. “Not at all.” How could he? He still wasn’t really sure what they were talking about. He was just happy to see her smiling again.

As they neared the steps of the Bjorklund farmhouse, one of Pastor Solberg’s daughters called to her from the front porch, “Astrid, where are the jacks?”

“I’m coming.” She clapped her hand on her hat to keep it from blowing off and dashed up the walk, taking the three stairs in a leap. She’d chosen the hat that morning in the hopes of looking like a proper and attractive young lady to the man beside her. And then all this happened.
Oh, fiddle. There went my young lady image. Guess he
is seeing the real Astrid Bjorklund today. Crying my eyes out one minute
and leaping the stairs the next. What will he ever make of this?
But when she glanced back at him over her shoulder, his smile was definitely not condemning.

Inside she found the jacks and told the girls to take them out on the porch so others could play if they wanted. She and Grace spread the tablecloths on top of the tables the men had set up under the cottonwood tree so the food could be brought out.

Grace hugged her and then signed, “What happened at church? Are you okay?”

Physically or mentally?
A song from childhood whispered through her mind
. Here am I, send me.
A song about Samuel. God called his name in the night. Surely God hadn’t called her name today. Surely she was making this up. She shook her head, trying to shake her thoughts away.

“Not sure,” she signed back. “I’ll explain later.” She might crumble into small pieces if she did so now. Or melt into a puddle of tears again.

What if that was God calling her? But what about being needed right there in Blessing, North Dakota? All the plans and dreams for the new hospital, serving others—surely that was what God was calling her to do.
I’ ll go to Chicago if you want, but please, not
to Africa.

“When are your cousin and her family coming from Norway?” Astrid heard Mary Martha Solberg asking Ingeborg as she came back to the kitchen.

“Either tomorrow or the next day, as far as we know. We’ll just keep meeting the train until they get here.” Ingeborg handed Astrid a platter with sliced ham. She hesitated for a moment and gave her daughter a long look.

“Well, if you need more room, we could sleep a couple at our house,” Mary Martha said.

“Thanks, but we have the rooms at Kaaren’s to use until the students come back in the fall. We should be able to get a house built for them by then.”

Astrid held the screen door open with one foot while Grace carried out one of the crockery bowls. Everyone brought food for meals like this, so it was more a case of getting it set up than anyone cooking all night, although her mother had set a pot of beans to baking the evening before. She looked around to see where Mr. Landsverk had settled and saw him talking with Hjelmer and Thorliff. Inga was sitting atop her father’s shoulders, which meant she’d gotten into something again.

Trygve and Samuel were tossing the ball to each other by the well house. The baseball game would start as soon as the food disappeared. A thought ripped through her heart. When she went to Chicago—
if
she went to Chicago—she’d miss all this. Let alone if she went to Africa.
Please,
she pleaded
, I don’t want to go to Africa.
Stop that,
she reminded herself.
Remember, God let young Mr. Baxter
die. Why would He listen to you bellyache about not going to Africa?
Besides, if you are mad at Him, how can you ask for anything?
That would take some thinking on. Pastor Solberg and the reverend Schuman had appropriated the rocking chairs on the back porch and seemed deep in discussion. She caught a word or two as she went by. Was he trying to talk Pastor Solberg into going to Africa? Slowing down, she caught a few more words. It sounded more like a plea for support. The Blessing Lutheran Church had always sent money for missionaries as part of their tithe. She could remember putting her pennies into a can marked
Missionaries
. She and all the rest of the Sunday school contributed, and some of the quilts the women made went overseas too.

“But we have a mission field a lot closer,” she heard Pastor Solberg say. “The Indians on the reservation need far more help than we give them.”

“There’s never a lack of the poor to be helped,” the other man added. “Jesus said the poor would always be with us, and He wasn’t making up a story.”

Astrid felt a glimmer of light reach into her heart. Maybe it wasn’t the place but the service she had responded to.

As soon as the food was all set out, Ingeborg held Inga up to ring the triangle. The little girl held the straight bar with both hands and swung it around. When she dropped it, it missed her grandmother’s toe only because of some fancy stepping.

“Sorry, Gamma. It fell.”

Astrid had to turn away so she wouldn’t laugh. Leave it to Inga. She grabbed the little girl. “You come sit with me.”

“Good.” She leaned close to whisper, one that could be heard clear to the barn. “Can we have chocolate cake first?”

“No, sorry.”

She’d just filled their plates and sat down when Mr. Landsverk took the seat beside her.

“Care if I join you?”

Astrid smiled. “Not at all.”

“My pa sitting there.” Inga glared at him.

“Sorry, kitten, this man is company. You be nice to him.”

Inga put on a very fake smile. “You can sit over there.” She pointed to an empty place on the bench on the other side of the table.

Thorliff scooped up his daughter. “You come sit with Ma and me, Miss Queen Bee.”

“But, Pa . . .”

“Too bad.” He set her plate on the table. “You can sit on my knee.”

Astrid looked to the man beside her. “So goes life in Blessing. Miss Queen Bee, as her father calls her, would rule her kingdom with a golden scepter.”

“She’s a pretty smart little girl. I heard her tell the little boy with the broken arm that when he gets big she might marry him.”

“That’s her cousin Carl. If she’d not talked him into climbing the ladder to see the kittens in the haymow, he would not have a broken arm.”

“Who are the two boys who were playing catch?”

“The older is Trygve and Samuel the younger. They are Grace and Sophie’s brothers.”

“I’m surprised Sophie, or rather Mrs. Wiste, isn’t here.”

“You can call her Sophie. She’ll be along. She makes sure everything is done properly at the boardinghouse before she leaves on Sunday because that is Miss Christopherson’s day off. Once they get here, Inga will have older cousins to play with. That always makes her happy.”

“All right if I sit here?” Penny Bjorklund asked as she sat down on Astrid’s other side.

“Of course. You and I never get a chance to talk. You remember Mr. Landsverk?”

“Very well. Good to have you back in town.”

“I’ve heard the best thing that has happened lately is that you and your family have returned. From Bismarck, is that right?”

“Yes, and grateful every minute for coming home. Bismarck is a great place, just not a good one for this family. I saw you talking with Hjelmer. Did he talk to you about the windmills?”

Joshua nodded. “I guess I start tomorrow. He said there are three wells to be dug and four windmills needed.”

So he was going to stay. Astrid felt a wave of joy run down her back to her toes.

“Sounds about right. He’s got some repairing to do on the machinery first. I do hope you’re a good mechanic.”

“Well, I’ve repaired plenty of machinery on my father’s place.”

“Not much different I am sure. Astrid, when do you leave for Chicago?” Penny asked.

“
If
I leave for Chicago, you mean.”

“Oh, I thought . . . I mean . . .”

“Depends on who you talk to: me or Dr. Elizabeth.” Astrid looked up from studying her plate. “I’m just not sure I want or need more formal training.”

“And what does Tante Ingeborg say?”

“You know what she says. ‘Ask God and He will tell you what He wants you to do.’ I remember when you were so frustrated about leaving Blessing. She said the same to you.”

Penny nodded. “And I am still wondering if we didn’t hear correctly or if God really did want us in Bismarck. And if He did, why?”

“Maybe it was so you would appreciate home more.” Kaaren laid a hand on Penny’s shoulder as she leaned over to fill the coffee cups.

“How come you’re doing that? Let me help.” Astrid started to stand.

Kaaren pressed down on Astrid’s shoulder. “Finish your dinner first. This way I get to find out what’s going on around here. Like overhearing bits of conversation here and there. Delightful.”

“You mean you are eavesdropping?” Astrid made a horrified face. “After all those years of telling Sophie and I—”

“And
me
.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. Once a schoolteacher, always a schoolteacher. “After all those years of telling Sophie and me that eavesdropping is not polite.” Astrid faced Joshua. “Back in the early years of Blessing, Tante Kaaren and Mor started the school, and Tante Kaaren was the teacher. She’s the one who taught all of us to sign so that Grace would have people to talk with. Eventually it led to the school for the deaf.”

“And I can’t wait until Grace comes back here permanently to teach. What a thrill that will be.” Kaaren moved on up the table, filling coffee cups and chatting with everyone as she went.

“Someday I want to be like her,” Penny said with a sigh.

“She and Mor always seem to know what to do.”

“I know.”

“What if I hear wrong? About what God wants me to do?”

“Like perhaps us with Bismarck?” Penny paused, staring unseeing at Astrid. “I guess God figures out a way to make it all right again. I think Hjelmer is far more content now with Blessing, now that he had a taste of living in a city somewhere else, working for someone else. And if it took our moving there to help him learn that, it was worth every minute and every tear.”

Astrid blew out a sigh and gave Penny a hug. “I hate to make mistakes.”