Blessing in Disguise (18 page)

“Does your ma . . .” At the flashing eyes of the girl beside her, Penny reworded her sentence. “Does Mary Martha know your boots are too small?”

Manda shook her head. “I don’t want to worry her none.”

“Do you know how to sew?”

Another shake of the head. “Not really. I’m most good with horses and other animals.”

“I have an idea that Mary Martha would be mighty upset if she knew your feet were hurting.”

“Maybe so, but I’m buying my own boots.” Manda pointed to a pair. “You got any to fit me like that?”

“Black or brown?”

“Either. Don’t make no difference.”

“Well, if I don’t have any that fit, we’ll order them.” Penny pointed to a stool, and Manda sat down.

“Take your boots off.”

Manda flinched. “Do I gotta?”

Penny searched through the boots, looking for a pair about the size of Manda’s foot. “If you want to try on boots, you do.”

“Couldn’t I come back later? We got to get on home.”

Penny sighed. “I suppose, but this will only take a minute. What’s wrong?”

“Well . . .” Manda studied the end of her boot, where her toe looked to be trying to escape.

Penny waited.

“I got holes in my socks.” Manda huffed on the words.

“Oh. How about I give you a pair of new socks? Early birthday present.”

“Ain’t my birthday.”

“I know. Manda MacCallister, sit yourself back down on that stool, get those boots off your feet, put on these new stockings, and try on this boot right now!” Penny plunked the boots down on the floor by Manda’s knee.

“What’s the problem back here?” Pastor Solberg asked from the other side of the shelves.

Manda shook her head and looked as though she wanted to fly out of the store.

Penny made a shushing motion with her hand and went around the other end to lead Pastor Solberg back up to the counter.

“What was that all about?” He lowered his voice at the look on Penny’s face.

“Later.” She smiled at Deborah and went around the counter to cut the cheese. “How much do you want?” She set the knife to cut a three-inch wedge.

“Bigger.” He nodded at her next marking, giving her one of his questioning looks.

“Pa, did you give her the list?” Deborah tugged on his coat sleeve.

“Oh, thank you, my dear.” He pulled the paper out of his pocket and handed it across the counter.

“Pa gets kinda forgetful at times, mostly when he’s thinking about his sermon.” Deborah gave Penny a woman-to-woman look that almost forced a smile past Penny’s rolled-tight lips.

“Ah, I see.” Penny kept her questions to herself, like when had Deborah started calling Pastor Solberg “Pa”? And why was Manda so afraid to say she needed new clothes? But most of all, where was Zeb? She hoped the letter would tell that. “Oh, I almost forgot, there’s a letter here for you.” She reached behind to the named boxes on the wall. “In fact, there are two things, one a package.”

“Ah, my Greek text. Now I can help Thorliff with Greek lessons.” Solberg took the package and letter and studied the handwriting on the envelope. There was no return address.

“Here, Deborah, one for you and one for Manda.” Penny handed over two red-and-white-striped candy sticks.

“Thank you.”

“You want a cup of coffee?” Penny asked Pastor Solberg, glancing toward where Manda hadn’t appeared yet. “While I fill the rest of your order?”

Solberg glanced from Penny to the other section and rolled his tongue across his teeth. “I guess that would taste mighty good about now. Why don’t I just go help myself, let you get on with things?”

Penny’s smile broadened. “Good idea. There’s molasses cookies in the jar if you want. Deborah, you could get a cookie too.”

As the two made their way back to the living quarters, Penny crossed to where Manda sat studying the new boots.

“Are they big enough?” Penny squatted down to push on the toe. “Stand up and walk around in them.” She glanced up to catch a hint of moisture being dashed away from Manda’s eyes. “What’s wrong, Manda?”

“I ain’t never had brand-new store-bought boots before in my whole life.” She hiked her skirt up to look at the boots again. “Do they look all right?”

“They look just fine. You want to wear them home?”

“Can I?”

“Why not? They’re your boots.”

“How much are they?”

Penny named a price, and Manda let out air that had been trapped with her fear. “I got enough money too.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out several bills and some change. “I’ve been saving.”

Penny took the money from the girl’s hand, wishing she could tell her to put it back in her pocket. But she knew better. Manda would be offended, and she didn’t want that. Not if she was going to figure out a way to get her in dresses more befitting a blossoming young woman.

“Pastor Solberg and Deborah are having a cup of coffee and cookies if you’d like to join them.”

“Nah, I’ll wait in the wagon.”

The bell tinkled over the door, and Penny turned to her new customer. She waved at Pastor Solberg as he called “Thanks for the coffee” and headed on out the door. If it hadn’t been she needed to wait on the man who had just come in, maybe she’d have learned who the letter was from. She had a good mind it was from Zeb MacCallister.

“I got news for you,” Pastor Solberg said to Manda when she had the team backed out and headed home. He tapped the letter in his hand. “This is from your pa. He’s in Montana like we thought and looking for a homestead in that valley he liked so well. Says he’ll be home before Christmas.”

“To stay?” Deborah took her candy stick out of her mouth to ask.

“No, silly, not if he’s got a homestead in Montana.” Manda flapped the reins over the team’s back. “Giddyup now. I got work to do.” The set of her jaw said she wanted no truck with anyone at the moment.

“Miz Rasmussen, there’s some people here to see you.” Thorliff stopped at the open door to Ingeborg’s soddy, where the Rasmussen family were staying.

“Who is it?” The voice came from the dimness.

“Come see, please.”

Mrs. Rasmussen did as Thorliff asked.

“We gathered up some things from all around to help you get started again.” Dyrfinna Odell pointed to the wagonload of boxes, bags, and sundry furniture.

“F-for us?” Elvira Rasmussen stopped beside the wagon. “Wh-why? You don’t know us.”

“No, but we all know what it’s like to be without anything.” Dyrfinna patted the slender woman’s arm. “Now, where would you like us to put these things?”

Ingeborg came from the cheese house. “Mr. Odell, Dyrfinna, how good to see you.”

“L-look. They brought us all these things. How can we ever repay you?” She looked from one to the other as if afraid they might change their minds.

Ingeborg smiled at the question. “You can’t. Just do for the next one that has needs. I’ll call the boys, and they can help unload.”

“Now, those two sacks are of wheat.” Mr. Odell pointed to the two gunnysacks. “That’s seed wheat for next year, for when you get to your homestead. The first year is mighty hard, and seed is hard to come by sometimes.” He grabbed a sack by its two ears and swung it to the ground.

Elvira Rasmussen leaned over and spoke in her oldest child’s ear. “You run and get your pa. He needs to help here.”

The boy took off, racing across the field to where his father drove the team and plow around and around the field, laying under the wheat stubble so that the rich dirt looked even blacker next to the golden wheat.

Thorliff and Baptiste came from the woodpile and helped carry the things inside.

“Quilts, and look, a feather bed.” Mrs. Rasmussen stroked the rolled-up bundle. “Why, how can people just give away these things? Surely they need them.”

Like a swallow darting hither and there, she and her two youngest ones exclaimed over each addition as it came through the soddy door. When her husband arrived, she tried to take his hand to show him, but he shook his head.

“I got to help them.” His voice turned hoarse, and he hawked and spat at the back wheel. Hefting a chair, he carried it into the soddy and set it next to a trestle table.

“That’s it,” Thorliff said, dusting his hands against his pant leg.

“Guess all we can do, then, is say thank you.” The mister stuck out his hand to Mr. Odell. “How do we let the others know?”

“In church tomorrow. I’m sure Pastor will give you a moment either before or after the service.”

“That I’ll do.”

So the next morning, it took two wagons to carry the Knutsons, the Bjorklunds, and the Rasmussens to church. As the new family met the rest of the folks of Blessing, Elvira Rasmussen had a hard time holding back the tears. Carl shook hands with all the men and tipped his hat to the wives.

“Don’t you think we maybe could stay here instead of going on to the West?” Elvira looked around at all the people talking together after the service. “They been mighty good to us.”

“I know, but land here is too expensive, and there’s no home-steading left.”

“We could work for someone else.”

“If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, I ain’t spending the rest of my life working for another. I got to have land of my own again.”

Ingeborg wanted to go to Elvira, but she hung back. Leave it to a man to have the wanderlust like that. Dragging his family clear across North Dakota in the fall. Where would they wait out the winter? How she wished Haakan was home to try to talk some sense into the man.

Chapter 17

The Ranch
September 8

Augusta hung on to the arms of the chair so she wouldn’t slither right to the floor.

Morning Dove kept one eye on her patient while she stripped the bed and remade it with sheets fresh off the clothesline. “You stay there longer?” She motioned with her hands so Augusta might have an idea what she was saying.

Since the room had ceased spinning and she no longer felt in immediate danger of slipping off the chair, Augusta nodded. At least yes and no could be gotten across. She wished she had some idea how long she’d been sick. Strange to feel that days of her life were gone and she had no memory of them.

What memories she had made her squirm. She clamped her hands on the chair arms again. Had Kane been helping care for her in such intimate ways as she thought he did? Surely it had been his voice murmuring comfort to her as he changed the hot cloths for cool wet ones. At times they had both been there; at others it was this woman with the flashing eyes and warm smile. No doubt not thinking about it was the better choice.

“You hungry?” Morning Dove stood in front of her and mimicked eating.

Augusta’s stomach rumbled as if it, too, had eyes and had seen the gestures. “Yes, please,” she said with a nod, and the other woman left the room to begin making noises in the kitchen. She did remember standing in front of a huge fireplace and stripping off her clothes under a blanket, feeling the heat baking whichever side she presented to it. She could hear cattle bellering and horses whinnying. The rooster crowing woke her up earlier. She was on a farm. That was certain.

She skirted around the most important question. Why hadn’t he taken her to Blessing? If this was on the way, it most certainly was the roundabout way. She wasn’t sure why she knew that, but it seemed she did. She looked down at the shapeless dress she was wearing. She’d traded her nightgown for this after washing her hands and face in the basin of hot water.

A few minutes later, a delicious aroma preceded Morning Dove into the room. A plate of ham and eggs and biscuits along with a cup of steaming coffee took up most of the wooden tray.

“Mange takk.” Augusta inhaled the fragrances of real food, but when she tried to cut the ham, her hand shook so badly she laid the knife back down before she dropped it.

Morning Dove smiled and, taking the utensils, cut the ham and buttered the biscuits. She handed the knife and fork back to the woman in the chair.

“Mange takk,” Augusta said again, then stopped and thought. “Th-thank you.”

Morning Dove nodded. “You are welcome.” Her smile showered approval on Augusta’s efforts like a cloud-sprinkled rain in the spring.

“You are welcome.” While the strange words came hesitantly, they came.

“Eat.” Morning Dove pointed to the plate. “You need strength.”

But after only a few bites, Augusta could hardly hold her head up. She’d never realized chewing took so much energy, and it wasn’t as if the ham were tough. On the contrary. But once the meat was chewed, even swallowing became an effort. She forced herself to finish the egg, and the fork clattered on the plate.

“Ah.” Morning Dove entered the room almost at a run, which slowed when she saw her charge was all right. She whisked the tray off to the top of the oak commode and helped Augusta to her feet. The distance back to the bed looked as wide as one of the high mountain pastures the girls in Norway took the cows to every spring. Augusta had spent many summers herding cows until she was old enough to go out to work for a family in the city.

Once tucked back in bed, she was asleep before her nurse cleared the doorway.