A Promise for Ellie (26 page)

We had the most delightful, well, mostly delightful picnic out by the river Sunday. What wasn’t delightful was that I caught my foot on a root across the trail and if Andrew hadn’t saved me, I would have fallen flat on my face.

She decided not to include the argument with Andrew. After all there was no reason to upset her mother too.

Astrid and Ingeborg won the fishing contest, much to Trygve’s disgust. He says they cheated by fishing together. It wasn’t supposed to be teamwork. The ball game was fun to watch.

Even though Andrew had not been playing. Did thoughts of him have to intrude on everything?

The men and boys around here have turned into baseball fans, reading about the national teams that are playing and playing themselves, the few times they take off work. If the women have their way, there will be no more farming on Sundays. After all, that is the Lord’s day. “And if He saw the need to rest, so do we.” I’m quoting Ingeborg here, as if you didn’t know. She told me again how she misses you and wishes you still lived here. As do I. That would make life about perfect.

Other than Andrew being so overbearing.
Has he always been like
this?

I enjoy working at the store and helping Penny with the house and children. I think I told you that before. Today the women met for quilting. I stayed at the store so Penny could go. I’m thinking they are working on a wedding-ring quilt for Andrew and me. No one said anything, but I caught the looks they gave each other. I’m sure I will be invited to the quilting bees when I am married and no longer one of the young girls.

I must say good-night and go on to bed. Oh, something interesting. Hjelmer and Haakan are thinking of starting a cooperative flour mill here. Pretty soon you won’t recognize Blessing with all the new things going on. I love you, and give my love to the little ones. Pa too.

Your loving daughter,
Ellie

P.S. If Hans doesn’t stop here on his way to you, tell him to make sure he does before he leaves again. I want to see him too.

EW

She could have made it out here if she had wanted to
. Andrew pushed his forehead into the flank of the cow he was milking. When it twitched its tail and caught him across the cheek with the brush of it, he huffed a sigh and lightened up on the pulling and squeezing. No sense taking his bad mood out on the cow. If she put her foot in the bucket, it would be his own fault.

Perhaps the fight with Ellie was all your fault
. The little voice had whispered those same words more than once since Sunday. He’d heard them first thing every morning when he opened his eyes before daylight. He needed to ask his family’s forgiveness too. Surely that had been drummed into his head often enough through the years. Maybe he needed a few hours at the woodpile to remind him.

He stripped the last milk from the cow’s teats and rose from the three-legged stool, swinging the full bucket away from her feet as he stood.

“One more to go. You want her, or should I take her?” Trygve looked up from pouring the milk through the strainer and into a milk can.

“I will. You go on home.”

“You going to work on the forms for the basement tonight?”

“For a while.”

“I’ll help you.”

Andrew emptied his foaming pail. “Thanks, but you don’t have to.” He’d snapped at Trygve today too, and here his cousin was offering to help some more.Why did everyone have to be so good to him? They made him feel even worse.

“I know, but I like building things. You’ll help me with my house someday.”

“That I will.”
I’ll never be able to repay all the help people have given
me. Now if only Ellie would come through that door
. He sat himself down at the final cow and, after washing bits of grass and leaves off her udder, planted his head in her flank and picked up the squeeze-and-pull rhythm again. One bad thing about milking cows, it gave one too much time to think. When guilt weighed heavy on his soul, thinking time was not comfortable.

Just apologize and get it over with. How many times have you heard
Mor say that through the years?

“All right! I will! Just as soon as I finish here.”

“What’d you say?” Trygve stopped pushing the flat shovel that cleaned out the gutter.

“Nothing. Just muttering.” As soon as he finished, he poured the milk into the milk can, saving the last in the bottom for the barn cats. Barney sat wagging his tail in anticipation, so he set the pail down and let the dog lick out the bottom. Mor would scold him for that, but the cats did not appreciate the dog lapping out of their dish.

He and Trygve each took a side of the barn and, one by one, released the cows from their stalls. Head to tail they paraded out of the barn and over to the watering trough, got their drink, and ambled on out to pasture, limp udders swinging from side to side as they walked. Andrew watched them go. Always the same routine except in the winter when they were kept inside overnight. Did they ever get mad at each other and carry a grudge?

All the talk at the supper table circled around the visit from Joshua Landsverk.

“How many acres?” Andrew asked.

“Half a section, between five and six miles south of here.”

“Beyond the Peterson place?”

“Ja, another two or three miles. He’s not planted it this year. We could go cut the hay if we buy it.”

“Why didn’t he cut the hay?”

“Started to and just gave up. He’s going to walk away from it.”

“What did Lars say?”

“Buy it. We could split it, all kinds of ways to go.”

“We can afford it.” Ingeborg passed the meat platter around again. “Is it fenced?”

“I don’t think so.”

“How much does he owe the bank?” Andrew propped his chin on the heel of his hand.

“Not real sure. He paid the owner what he had in it and took over the mortgage.”

“So we will buy the cows too.” Ingeborg’s tone made Andrew smile inside. His mor wasn’t arguing on this one. More land, more cows.

“Is there a house?” Astrid joined the conversation.

“A shack more than a house and the same for the barn. I’ve seen the place. It will take some work. There’s still sod that’s not been broken. Will make good hay, but that’s a long way to haul hay. We’ll get it planted to wheat next year, then just go harvest it.”

“It sounds to me like you’ve decided.”

“If he will take a lump sum, and we take over the mortgage,” Haakan said. “We could pay it off after harvest if all goes well.”

“If all goes well.”
The same phrase one heard time after time. That and
Lord willing
. Andrew thought on them both while he chewed his meat. Fried rabbit, thanks to Trygve and his snares. Tending the snares used to be his job before Trygve took it over, and soon it would pass on to Samuel. He was surprised Trygve hadn’t given it up already.

Andrew cleaned the last of the gravy off his plate with a piece of biscuit. When he finished chewing, he cleared his throat. “I have something to say.” His throat muscles tightened as the others looked at him.

“Ja?” Haakan nodded slowly.

“I ask you all to forgive me for the way I’ve been acting.” His voice broke, but he kept on going. “You were right, Astrid. I have been rude and mean, and I’m sorry.” He looked from face to face, and all he could see was love shimmering back at him. Tears glinted in his mother’s eyes as she nodded her approval.

“Of course you are forgiven.” Haakan was the first to answer. “That is good.”

Astrid winked at him, raised her shoulders, and dropped them again in what was meant to mime surrender. “I guess so, but I sure hope you plan to ask Ellie’s too. I hate it when people are mad at each other.”

“Me too. Thank you.” He pushed back his chair. “And now I better get over to work on those forms before dark falls. Trygve is coming to help.”

“I am too, and I’m sure Lars will be there.” Haakan drained the last from his coffee cup. “We buy that place, and it will mean another wait on your house.” The moon shone bright by the time he’d finished working and had walked on into Blessing. The lights were all out at the store. He’d been hoping she would still be up. Standing under her window, he whistled. Nothing. He picked up a couple of pebbles and tossed them gently to rattle against the windowpane. He waited—nothing.

“I figured that, but there isn’t much land left to buy around here. Have to take what we can get.”

Haakan clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Spoken like a true farmer.”

“Don’t forget Ellie,” Astrid called as Andrew turned toward the door.

As if I could, just like I’d forget to breathe
. “I won’t.”

“Come on, Ellie, please wake up. I couldn’t come earlier.” He tossed more pebbles. One went through the open window and clattered on the floor. “Hjelmer will never let me live this down if he comes out.”

He leaned over to find some more small stones when a giggle floated down. He straightened and smiled up at her.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Her whisper drifted on the breeze.

He swallowed hard. “I came to ask you to forgive me. Will you please?”

“Oh, Andrew.”

“Well?” Dare he ask her to come down?

“Yes, I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

He could hear the tears in her voice. Had she had as bad a time as he? “For what? You weren’t the one being so contrary.”

“I could have agreed to go fishing.”

“Ja. How is your foot?” To think he had let her limp off that way.

“It’s getting better.”

“Forgive me for that, too?”

“Oh yes, Andrew. Don’t let’s ever argue again.”

“We won’t.”

“Yes, you will.” Hjelmer’s voice cut into their whispers. “Andrew, go on home. It’s late.”

“Yes, sir.” Andrew blew his love a kiss and took off running. Ellie forgave him. Her laughter floated right over his shoulder. He leaped into the air and whooped his joy.

Now if he could just get that house up so they could be married.

M
IXING CEMENT WAS A GRIMY JOB
.

“Last batch for tonight.” Haakan raised his voice to be heard over the rush and scrape of cement poured from the wheelbarrow into the wall form for the cellar of Andrew’s house. All they could get poured each evening was half a wall.

“Good thing you built these forms in smaller sections.” Lars tamped solid the last of the pour.

“Pa said to.” Andrew scraped the drying cement from his shovel, then rammed it up and down in a pail of water to wash the residue away. They had two walls finished and needed to bring in some more rock and gravel.

“Amazing thing to have to travel west to the gravel quarry.” Haakan raised his hat to wipe the sweat away with his handkerchief. “Most people have to haul away the rocks or at least pile them up so they have enough good soil to plant in. When they homesteaded here, all they saw was miles of horse-high prairie grass. No idea what kind of soil lay under it. That’s what Ingeborg told me.”

“Talked with a man from out west. He said those smart Norwegians took all the good soil, left the rocky land for the others.”

“I don’t know so much about smart. We just got here first. Or at least Roald and Carl did. I’m ever grateful to those first Bjorklund men who homesteaded so wisely.” Haakan washed off his shovel and the heavy iron bar they used to tamp the cement in amongst the gravel.

“And the wives they left behind.” Lars followed Haakan as he strode up the ramp to ground level. Andrew knew the stories of the terrible winter that took both his far, his onkel Carl, and the two babies, because Ingeborg had told them many times. He’d been a baby, but Thorliff, at five, remembered, too.

“Thorliff said he put so many windows in his house because he never wanted to live in the dark again like the soddy.”

“Better than that tar-paper shack Landsverk is living in. Don’t know how he kept from freezing to death last winter.”

“Or burning it down like that fellow over at Park River. Got the chimney so hot the roof caught on fire, and it was gone in a minute. The soddies were cooler in summer than most of our houses today—when they were built right.”

The three men walked across the fields to their houses, going around the wheat fields instead of through them.