RR05 - Tender Mercies (32 page)

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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #Red River of the North, #Romance, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Christian, #Historical, #Norwegian Americans, #General, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Fiction, #Dakota Territory, #Fiction, #Religious

BOOK: RR05 - Tender Mercies
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I hope and pray that this finds you in good health. Please give my regards to the rest of the folks of Blessing.
Wiping away the tears, I am your friend,
Mary Martha MacCallister

P.S. Please remind that brother of mine that while I understand he is very busy with the baby coming and all, the mail still goes both ways.

She blotted the paper and looked out at the drizzling rain. A shiver ran up her back. What was going on in Blessing?

Chapter 25

February 1888
Blessing, Dakota Territory

“She’s gonna die, ain’t she?”

“Manda MacCallister, whatever gives you that idea?” Zeb clamped his teeth till his jaw ached. “Katy’s just some tired, that’s all.”

“She looks just like my maw did, that’s what.”

Zeb glared at her, and she returned glare for glare.

“Well, just don’t go sayin’ something like that where she can hear. Or Deborah, either.”

Manda shook her head and gave him one of her “if you don’t beat all” looks. “What do you think I am? Stupid?”

Zeb had the feeling he hadn’t really reassured her, but then what did he know about birthing babies. Unless it was just the same as with horses, cows, and dogs, he realized the depths of his ignorance. But he couldn’t let her see that. “Watch your mouth.”

She clamped her jaw shut, but he could tell what she was thinking. And he didn’t like it one bit.

“Well, let’s get these chores done so we can git on up to the house. How soon before that gelding can be sold, do you think?”

“ ’Pends on how much you want him trained. He don’t much like either harness or rider yet. I get the feelin’ he’d soon dump me as blink.”

“I was hoping for next week or so. Couple of men are coming.”

“What they lookin’ for?”

“Not sure. But I wanted something to show them. Why don’t you work him more under saddle and see if you can get him smoothed out some?”

“I could get a lot more done if I didn’t have to go to that noaccount school every stupid day.”

“Manda, your mouth.”

“That weren’t swearin’.”

“But no way for a young lady to talk.”

“I ain’t no
young lady
. So there!” She made the condition sound worse than measles.

Zeb sighed. “Just work on the horse every spare minute you got, all right?” He snagged a bucket off a hook where he’d hung it to keep clean. “I’ll get the milking done. You take the pigs and chickens, since you already fed the horses.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “You
did
feed all of them, didn’t you?”

She gave him
that
look again, then dipped a bucket of oats out of the grain bin and huffed her way out the barn door. Caring for the chickens was Deborah’s chore, but not wanting to leave Katy alone for a minute, Zeb had asked Deborah to remain inside. Besides, the little girl had been looking a mite peaked herself lately.

He brushed the cow’s udder off, then set the stool beside her and sat down, leaning his forehead into her flank. The ping of the first streams of milk in the bottom of the metal bucket soon turned to the shush, shush of a filling pail. He squirted a stream into the mewing cat’s mouth and continued milking. The sound of animals chewing hay or grain, the rustling of the hay, the plop of manure from one of the other cows, the crying of the barn cats all spoke of a well-run barn. Steers lowed from the outside corral, reminding him that he’d neglected them so far. A horse whinnied, answered by another.

What is going on up at the house?
Thoughts of the black smudges circling around Katy’s eyes ever since she had a cold made him want to wrap her in goose down and build walls around her to keep her safe. But the danger came from within.

On their trip to Montana she’d been an indomitable rider once she became accustomed to the daily routine. Her love of life and vitality were what drew him to her. No one in his entire life teased him and made him laugh as Katy did.

He smiled, recalling an incident on their trip.

“What’s the matter, cowboy, can’t keep up?” Her English-Norwegian language mix both confused him and made him laugh.

“I can keep up. I just don’t want to wear the horses out.” While the land seemed flat, the grade was always up, moving toward the peaks in the distance. He’d never seen such mountains as those far ahead of them, hanging like blue dreams in the distance and drizzled with snowfields on the tops like frosting dripping down a cake.

“We have mountains like that at home, the whole length of Norway. You should come see them sometime.”

“Katy,
this
is home now.” He nudged his horse to trot beside hers.

She shook her head, setting the broad-brimmed hat she wore to flopping. “No, Dakota is home. Montana is just a dream.”

And the wild horses they caught were a dream come true. Along with the heavy stallion he bought in Ohio, he had the basics for starting a fine breeding ranch. But best of all, he had Katy.

Zeb brought himself back to the barn and the cow, who turned her head and looked at him, a question in her big brown eyes.

“Yeah, I know. We’re done.” He set the pail to the side, then stood and picked up the stool. The dream of a lifetime, that trip to Montana. And they’d found the perfect valley to homestead. Trees, pasture, creek—everything he ever needed or wanted. And Katy.

She was sound asleep when he got back up to the house. Manda had finished before him and begun the supper fixings.

“Sorry, Pa, I don’t know how to fry the meat.” Deborah looked up at him, her blue eyes shadowed with worry.

“But she peeled the potatoes and carrots.” Manda was quick to stick up for her. She turned from working at the stove, where a frying pan sizzled forth the aroma of ham slices cooking. Another two pots bubbled on the back of the stove.

“Looks to me like you got everything under control.” Zeb dipped hot water from the reservoir into the washbasin and took it over to the dry sink to wash.

When he no longer smelled like cow, he brushed back his hair with damp hands and headed for the bedroom to check on Katy. She lay on her side, her distended belly making any other position impossible. If only she didn’t look so pale, as though there wasn’t enough blood under her skin to live with. The babe was surely taking more than his share. Zeb sat down in the rocker by the bed and leaned his elbows on his knees. This was becoming a familiar place. He had spent many hours sitting here praying, thinking, praying, dreaming, and praying again.

The words were mostly the same.
Dear Lord, keep Katy safe and bring her and the baby to full health again
.

“Hi,” Katy whispered, stretching out her hand. She turned her head to glance out the window, then threw the covers back and started to rise.

He sat beside her on the bed. “Where you goin’?”

“Supper. I’ve got to get supper. Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“Easy now.” He pushed gently on her shoulder. “The girls have that under control, and if you go rushing out there, you might hurt their feelings, make them think they can’t get a meal on the table.”

“Zeb, that is a bunch of . . .”

He raised a finger to his lips. “Now, now, little mama, take it easy for little Zeb there. He doesn’t like being awakened so fast, leastways that’s what you tell me.”

“Ooomph.” She laid a hand on the side of her belly. “Did you have to remind him? That little guy can kick worse’n any mule I ever met.”

Zeb laid his hand on hers atop her belly, and both hands bounced up. Zeb felt a thrill shoot clear up his arm and straight to his heart. That was his son in there, kicking like a wild kid in a dirt fight.

Katy lay back panting. “What if there are two in there dancing the polka or something?”

“Metiz says just one.”

“I know. Zeb”—she stroked his dark wavy hair back—“I’m thinking of asking my mor if she could come and help me. She volunteered a few weeks ago, but I thought I could handle everything. I
should
be able to, but I’m so terribly tired. What do you think?”

“Can I go get her right now?” His slow smile brought one back from her.

“No, I think we can eat first.” She lightly punched him on the shoulder. “I meant tomorrow.”

“You know what I really think?”

“No, what?” Her eyes darkened, making him sorry he teased her.

“I think I am married to a very wise woman who isn’t letting her pride get in the way.”

“No room for pride with what I’ve already got in my way.” She stroked her belly with both hands, as if she could calm the new life within. “Did you know he likes me to sing to him?”

Zeb looked at her and shook his head. “He’s a smart one then, ’cause I know how much I like you to sing to me.”

Her eyes grew wistful. “We do sound good together, don’t we?”

“We do everything good together, and don’t you forget it.” He got to his feet and, taking her hand, helped her roll into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, then raised her to her feet. “You want your slippers?”

“Ja, if I could see my feet to slip them on.”

Zeb knelt and slid the sheepskin moccasins on her feet, the fluffy wool inside keeping her warm and dry.

“Mange takk.”

“Velbekomme.”

“Ingeborg, come to bed,” Haakan said.

“I will in a minute. I just want to finish putting in this sleeve.” While she’d gotten real good on the straight seams, going around a curve and keeping the seam the same width still took strict concentration. When she finished, her heartfelt sigh made him smile.

“All right. Now you try this on, and let’s see how it looks.” Ingeborg held up the coat of heavy brown tweed that was supposed to have been Haakan’s Christmas present. She pushed her chair back and held the garment for him to put his arms in the sleeves. “I’ve got to line it yet, so it will fit a bit differently, but . . .” She arranged the lapels and tugged on the shoulders to make the garment hang straight.

Haakan smoothed down the front of the coat. “This is the finest coat I have ever had.” He shook his head and stared at his wife. “You did this.” The awe in his tone made her smile.

“You like it then?”

“Ah yes, I like it.” He brushed down the sleeves and flexed his shoulders. “You think the cows will like it?”

“Haakan, you wear that out to the cows, and . . .” She sputtered to a close when she saw the teasing glint in his eye. He looked so handsome. She walked around him, tugging here and there, as much to touch him as to straighten the coat. “You think it is wide enough in the shoulders?”
Ax handle width, that’s what they were
. The day he’d come striding across the prairie that spring flashed into her mind. He’d carried his ax across his shoulders then and asked if he could help her and Kaaren, telling her right away that he planned to return to lumbering in northern Minnesota as soon as the cold set in again.

“I have to put shoulder pads in, and that will make it fit better here.” She lifted the top of the sleeves.
But he had stayed. God, I thank you every day for this man of mine
. Her gratitude held a tinge of sadness still for Roald, who’d gone to help the neighbors after a terrible blizzard and never returned. That sadness returned at any death, like that of little Anna.

“What is it, my love?” Haakan laid a hand along her cheek.

Ingeborg sighed and turned her face to plant a kiss in his rough palm. “Just thinking.” She took his hand in hers. “I think you need some goose grease. Look at these cracks.” She motioned for him to remove the coat, then hung it on a wooden hanger carved by Baptiste for her Christmas present. With the coat hanging, she pushed her chair closer to the sewing machine and put her precious scissors in the drawer along with the pins and needle and thread.

“There now, come.” Taking his hand, she pulled him out to the kitchen, and after warming the can with goose grease in it, she smeared it on his hand and began to massage it in.

“Um, that feels good.”

“Ja, and so you would think you would do this once in a while.”

“Feels better when you do it.” He leaned forward and nuzzled the side of her neck with his lips. “You smell good.”

“Give me your other hand.” The warmth of his mouth set her heart to hammering. A log whooshed in the firebox. Paws whimpered from his box behind the stove. She turned her head, and his lips captured hers. So much for the goose grease.

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