RR05 - Tender Mercies (30 page)

Thorliff carried a box large enough that he could barely see above it to his grandmother. “Here, Bestemor, you went from littlest to biggest present.”

Bridget untied the bow made of a bit of red calico. “But what more do I need?”

“Just open it, Mor.” Hjelmer shook his head and leaned forward with a smile on his handsome face.

“Ah, me.” Bridget put her hands to her cheeks. “Look at all this.” She lifted out tablecloths, napkins, calico curtains.

“For your boardinghouse, huh?” Thorliff knelt beside the box and peered inside. “There’s even some kettles in here.”

“Mange takk.” Bridget looked around the room. “To whom?”

“All of us.” Thorliff pulled out three wooden spoons. “I carved these.”

“How did all this get done without me knowing?”

Ingeborg and Penny exchanged glances. “We’ll never tell,” Ingeborg said.
If I’d had my machine, there would have been even more, like another quilt or two
. “We hope it’s enough to help you get started.”

“Oh, it is.” Bridget smoothed a stitched sampler.

“I thought you could frame that and put it on the wall,” Goodie said. “Ellie did most of it.”

When there were no more presents, Haakan and Lars stood. “We’ll be back in a minute. Don’t anyone go away. Thorliff, Hjelmer, come on with us.” And out the door they went—snickering.

Kaaren and Ingeborg shook their heads at the antics of their husbands. The level of noise rose again as people thanked each other and admired all the gifts. They heard the banging of the back door and Haakan called, “Okay now, Ingeborg, Kaaren, shut your eyes, you two.”

Kaaren and Ingeborg rolled their eyes at each other and did as bid.

What in the world have they done now?
Ingeborg sat with her eyes scrunched closed. She felt Astrid slide from her lap and heard Haakan shush his daughter.

Giggles came from around the room, and when one of the little ones started to say something, the sound was cut off, most likely by a mother’s hand across the youngster’s mouth.

Ingeborg fought the desire to just peek through her eyelids.

“What is going on?” Kaaren asked.

“You’ll see.”

“All right, you two, I am going to count, and on three you may open your eyes.” They both nodded.

“Oonnne.”

“Haakan!”

“Twooo.”

“You’ll pay for this.”

“Three.”

“Oh, my!” Ingeborg stared at the Singer sewing machine in its cabinet with the black iron treadle. She looked next at Haakan, then at Penny. “B-but you said . . .”

Kaaren leaped to her feet and threw her arms around Lars. “Thank you, mange takk, oh, thank you.” Then she blushed a brilliant shade of red, and everyone broke out laughing.

“You know when you were trying to buy your machine, and Penny kept putting you off?”

Ingeborg nodded.

“Well, this one was already in the storehouse, waiting for today.” Haakan tapped a finger on the cabinet. “You didn’t want two, did you?”

Ingeborg tried to keep a sober face, as if she was scolding them, but a laugh burst forth in spite of her. “You . . . you two.” She stroked the wood of the cabinet. “Thank you. Oh, such a surprise.”

“Ma like supise.” Astrid crawled under the machine and sat on the treadle.

Ingeborg and Kaaren looked at each other and laughed again. “And here we were going to share one.”

“You can share that one with me,” Bridget said. “I already know how to use it.”

“I should have just made you another cheese press at the rate you are making cheese. Maybe after we build the boardinghouse, we should put up a whole separate building just for making cheese.” Haakan exchanged looks with Lars.

“Not a bad idea.” Lars nodded. “Kaaren could churn the butter there too. Cheese needs two rooms, one cool room to age it in, like the well house now. You know, if we . . .”

“There he goes, he’ll have it all planned by tomorrow.” Kaaren picked up Trygve and took a rubber ball out of his mouth. “No, son, you don’t chew on the toys.” His scowl said quite clearly that he heartily disagreed with her.

“Looks like we better be heading home,” Zeb said after looking outside. “Be dark before we get there now.”

By the time everyone had gathered up their things and said their good-byes, dusk cast purple shadows across the fields of snow. The last of the sunset gilded the clouds and pinked the horizon. Ingeborg and Bridget stood in the doorway, waving and calling good-bye as the teams pulling the sleighs gathered up their loads and jingled off across the prairie.

“Such a day.” Ingeborg finally closed the outside door and returned to the warmth of the kitchen. “This had to be the best Christmas ever.”

“Tomorrow
we
go visiting, huh, Mor?” Andrew looked up from putting together the wooden puzzle Olaf had made for him.

“Right. Who would you like to go see?”

“Ellie and Anna.”

“But you saw Ellie today.”

“I know, but I like to see her every day. And Anna wasn’t at church. You think she is all right?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, she’s been coughing a lot, sometimes it makes her not breathe good.”

“Yes, Andrew, we’ll go see Anna and her family. Let’s think of some things to take them, all right? We’ll visit the Baards too, since Gus was sick and they couldn’t come.”

Chapter 24

“She’s sleeping right now, poor little thing.” Mrs. Helmsrude twisted her hands together.

“When did she get so sick?” Ingeborg asked.

“During the night. Woke up coughing like to tear her throat apart.” She beckoned. “Please, won’t you come in?”

“Just for a minute then. We brought you some Christmas things.”

“Can I see her?” Andrew stood beside his mother.

“If ’n you want, but let her sleep. It’s almost a miracle to not hear her coughing.”

“I will.” Andrew tiptoed to the doorway Mrs. Helmsrude pointed. Anna lay in the bed, her face whiter than the sheets, the bones trying to poke holes in her transparent skin. He walked on over and stood beside her. “Please hurry and get better,” he whispered. But Anna didn’t move.

Ingeborg watched from the doorway as her son knelt at the foot of the bed and prayed for his friend. She watched his lips move and whispered “amen” along with him. He stood again and, after another long look, tiptoed toward the door.

“She’s awful sick, Ma,” he whispered, when he saw Ingeborg standing in the doorway. “You better ask Metiz to come. ’Tween you and her, Anna needs you.”

Ingeborg turned to Mrs. Helmsrude. “Would you mind if Metiz and I came to help you with her?”

“Heavens, no. Would you really do that?”

“Of course. Let me go home and get my things, and we’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you, Andrew, for coming. I’ll tell her you were here when she wakes up.”

“She knows.”

Ingeborg looked at Andrew when they were back in the sleigh. “What makes you think Anna knows you were there?”

Andrew shrugged. “I just know.”

“Like you know when Astrid is awake?”

“Ja, I guess.”

She clucked the horses into a trot, and the sleigh flew over the frozen ground.

As she had promised, within two hours they were back, carrying in baskets filled with every healing simple they could think of.

The wrenching sound of Anna’s coughing met them before they stepped up to the door.

“Come in. Come in.” Einer Helmsrude pulled open the door, shrugging on his coat at the same moment. “I’ll go care for your horses. You go right on in.”

Ingeborg headed for the bedroom where she’d seen Anna earlier.

Magda Helmsrude held her daughter in her arms, trying to spoon liquid into her mouth. The child gagged and choked, her stick arms flailing the air, her face bright red from the effort to breathe.

“I heat water.” Metiz set her basket down and returned to the kitchen.

Ingeborg tossed her coat over another chair and stopped with a hand on the mother’s shoulder. “Ah, Magda, so terrible this is. Have you tried tenting her with steam?”

Mrs. Helmsrude shook her head. “I just tried to give her some chicken broth. She has no strength to fight this.”

Anna doubled over, and the terrifying whooping that racked her body make Ingeborg flinch. “Have you tried an onion poultice?”

“No. This just struck her so fast. Christmas Eve she was fine and coughed some on Christmas morning, but this . . . I ain’t never seen anything like this, have you?”

“Ja, I have. We must clear the airway.”

“Water heating.” Metiz stopped at the doorway. “Blanket?” She pointed to the bed.

Magda looked up at Ingeborg. “What do we need?”

“We are going to make a tent over a steaming kettle on the stove. Metiz will put some herbs in it to help the steam. Then we will take turns sitting in the steam tent holding Anna.”

Mr. Helmsrude came to the door in time to hear Ingeborg. “How will you hold the blanket up?”

“The backs of chairs. I wish I’d had Haakan build us a frame. I thought about it last year and then forgot.”

“I will make something.” He flinched as though struck when Anna started coughing again.

A few minutes later, with the coatrack and a pole from the barn holding up the tent, Ingeborg and the mother held the child over the steaming kettle. Soon they had sweat pouring down their faces, but Anna breathed better. When she coughed up great globs of mucus, Ingeborg could feel the child relax for a short time.

The three women took turns under the tent, with Magda taking time to put the other two children to bed shortly after a supper. The meal was fraught with tension as everyone listened for Anna to breathe again or to stop coughing.

Father God, help this poor mite of yours. Give us the wisdom to help her, Father, please
. Ingeborg never knew where her prayers let off and her talking took over. The hours passed, each bout of coughing leaving the little girl weaker.

“I don’t know how long she can go on so.” Magda held her daughter close and rocked her in the steam tent.

I don’t either. Father, please!

In the early hours of the morning Anna fell asleep in the steam tent in Ingeborg’s arms. She felt her own eyelids drifting closed, and in spite of herself, her head tipped forward and they both slept.

Anna woke with a jerk and threw up, a green viscous mess shot with bright trails of blood.

But she breathed easier again for a time.

Mr. Helmsrude awoke, and after checking on his daughter, he headed for the barn and the morning’s chores.

“I think we should send for Pastor Solberg,” Ingeborg said when Einer returned with frothing pails.

“Ja, I go now.” He looked across at his wife, who was bathing Anna again with cool water to bring her temperature down.

“How is she?” Pastor Solberg asked when he arrived some time later.

“Resting.” Magda held out a trembling hand. “Ah, Pastor, she is so weak.” She dashed away tears with the corner of her apron.

Solberg entered the bedroom, nodding to Ingeborg and Metiz, who sat on the floor against the wall. Ingeborg left her place on the edge of the bed and motioned for the pastor to sit there.

“We’ve had her under the steam tent for most of the night, and it helps.” Ingeborg kept her voice to a whisper. Solberg squeezed her hand and took her place.

“Ah, little Anna,” he said, gently placing a hand on her head. “Father in heaven, we lift this lamb to you for your healing touch. She has been such a light to all of us, a gift of love to her parents, such a gallant little spirit. We know how much we love her, and we know that you love her more. You love each of us and are right here present. Oh, God, we beg that you clear this poor child’s lungs, that you take away the terrible coughing, and that you bring peace to this room and strength to those who nurse her.” He took Anna’s little hand in the two of his. “Please, Lord, we beg of you.”

Ingeborg wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She could hear Mr. Helmsrude out in the kitchen dumping more wood into the woodbox. The door closed behind him as he went outside again. His steps sounded labored, as though the man carried a load on his shoulders that would fell a mule.

Anna whimpered, “Ma?”

“Right here.” Magda took Solberg’s place and laid a hand on her daughter’s forehead.

“I . . . I hurt.”

“I know.”

Ingeborg motioned to Metiz, and they returned to the kitchen to set up the steam tent again. Metiz dipped some willow bark tea out of a kettle that they kept warm on the back of the stove and took it in to be spooned into the child’s mouth.

She took two or three spoonfuls and gagged. The coughing attacked her again, and they immediately moved her back into the steam.

“I’ll come back later, after school.” Pastor Solberg shook each of their hands. “God be with you.”

“Did Haakan get it around that everyone should pray for her?” Ingeborg asked as she held his muffler for him.

“Ja, and we will pray in school this morning too.” He pulled his gloves on and tucked them under the sleeves of his black wool coat. “Thank you, Ingeborg, and thank Metiz for me too.”

“I will.” Ingeborg leaned her head against the doorframe after closing it tightly behind him. She could hear him talking with Mr. Helmsrude outside, she heard the other children coming down the stairs, but more than anything, she heard the agonizing “whoop, whoop, whoop” of a little girl trying to get enough air into her lungs to keep on living.