RR05 - Tender Mercies (33 page)

As soon as the boys were off to school the next morning, Ingeborg made her way along the shoveled paths to the well house. Four-foot banks of snow on either side of her attested to the shoveling the men had already done. She was constantly amazed at how quickly a snowstorm could drift the paths full of snow again. The poles with rope strung between them laid blue shadows on the pristine surface this morning, mute testimony to the blizzard that had blown through the area the day before. The wind howling around the house sounded even more vicious than around the soddy eaves, drawing her back toward the black pit that called her name.

Especially since Anna died.

The tears that sprang so unexpectedly froze on her cheeks before she could open the door to the two-room sod building. Haakan had kept the stove burning since the day before, when she set the kettles of milk to heat and set for curds. Today she would cut the solid curd and drain them, then fill the presses. The slightly sour smell of the dirt floor, the spongy feel of the curds, and the sun streaming in the one window quickened her step. Some she would set to drain in the cheesecloth for soft cheese. The rest would go in the presses to harden off and cure.

Humming a tune, she cut through the curd first all one direction, then crosswise, then at various slants. The smaller the curd, the better the whey drained away. The pigs would be overjoyed with their grain drenched in the clear liquid left from the draining.

She checked the back room where Haakan had built shelves along both walls to house the great wheels of cheese while they cured. Using a piece of charcoal, she had written a date on each waxed wheel so she would know when they were ready to cut or sell whole.

“Ingeborg?” Bridget called.

“In here.” She returned to the main room. “We surely do need more storage if we keep those heifers and make more cheese.” She wiped her hands on her apron and went to the stove in the corner to refill the firebox.

“Astrid wants to go over to Kaaren’s. Do you mind if I take her? I’ll be right back.” Bridget sniffed appreciatively. “Smells good in here, despite the soddy smell.”

“Ja, that never goes away no matter how many times I whitewash these walls.” She poured the drained curds from the wood-slatted strainer into the wooden mold and set the top in place. “She can stay home if you don’t want to go.”

“No, I want to be outside while we can. I got me a feeling there’s another snowstorm on the way, so we better enjoy the sun while we can. You think Haakan would make Astrid a pair of skis?”

“Or Lars. Check with Kaaren. There might be some short ones over in their old soddy. I think we been putting all the skis up on the rafters.” Ingeborg cranked the handle down as she talked, more whey draining out the sides of the press.

“I will look. She’s a good age to learn. She and Trygve both.”

“Ja, we missed out on skating this year. There has been so much to do.”

“I’ll be back soon. Then I can work out here, and you can go sew if you’d like.”

“Don’t tempt me.” The cold draft that blew in through the open door warned her that the wind was picking up again. Suddenly the room seemed darker again, even though the square of sunlight that moved across the floor hadn’t dimmed.

“Ingeborg? Bridget?” Zeb’s voice called her now. She went to the door and cracked it open.

“We’re out here. Go on in and make yourself at home. Pull the coffeepot forward too if ’n you want some. I’ll be there in a minute.” She refilled the kettles from the milk cans, added wood to the stove, closed the damper, and gathered the things that needed washing into a basket. There would be more to make tomorrow, but for right now, the cheese house was caught up.

“So, how is Katy?” Ingeborg asked after pouring the coffee and setting out pieces of apple cake.

“I wish you and Metiz would come look at her. While she tells me all pregnant women feel this way, I look at her and just don’t know. She’s so tired all the time that she falls asleep in the chair at meals. She hardly eats because nothing tastes good to her. I thought women ate a lot when they were carrying. And her feet. She can hardly get them in the slippers Metiz made her for Christmas.”

“How about if we all come tomorrow? Bridget can go home with you today. You did bring a wagon?”

He nodded and smiled at both her and his mother-in-law. “I didn’t know if you rode astride or not.”

Bridget shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Our workhorses at home were for pulling not riding, so I do much better in a wagon. However, if we had skis, I could probably get there faster than you can with the team.”

“Really?” He looked to Ingeborg for confirmation.

“I should warn you. If she offers you a bet and it involves skiing, you’ll lose every time.”

The three of them chuckled, and Zeb studied Bridget. He knew she had to be in her sixties at least, but she hadn’t slowed down a mite since he met her. He remembered Hjelmer saying his mother was too old to run a boardinghouse. While he thought that about skiing, he was glad he’d kept his mouth shut. He didn’t need both these women after him, and they still teased Hjelmer.

Bridget touched his hand. “Zeb, you are worrying for nothing. Katy is a good strong Norwegian girl. Why, she was made for having babies.”

Zeb nodded and looked to Ingeborg. “You’ll ask Metiz then?”

“You’ll have the three best midwives in Dakota Territory at your service, sir.” Ingeborg and Bridget nodded at the same time.

I just hope that’s enough
, he thought.
Please, God, make it enough
.

Chapter 26

“Ah, Mor, I’m so glad you came.” In her relief Katy slipped back into Norwegian.

“You wouldn’t let me come sooner, remember?”

“I know. You always said I was a stubborn one.” Katy rolled up to a sitting position on the sofa. “Uff da. Do all women feel like a clumsy ball this close to their time?”

“Ja, they do.” Ingeborg took Bridget’s heavy coat along with her own and hung them on the coatrack by the door. When she returned, she sat in the chair beside Katy.

Katy smiled at Ingeborg and Metiz. “Thank you for coming too. It is so nice to have visitors. With the girls in school, the days get long, since Zeb won’t let me do very much.” She clasped her hands together over her distended belly. “I don’t even have anything baked to go with coffee.”

“That’s no problem. We brought plenty.” Ingeborg indicated the basket. “For dinner too.”

Katy leaned against the back of the horsehair sofa. Pushing her hair back with her hands, she shook her head. “I don’t know how there can be any room in here for food, but the last two days I been wanting to eat everything I can find. For a time there, I couldn’t bear to eat at all. Zeb made me eat.”

All the while she talked, Metiz and Ingeborg watched her. The pale skin, tremors in her hands, her feet and legs swollen like sausage skins about to burst. While Katy had tried to do her hair, the golden strands hung listlessly around her face.

“I’m a mess, aren’t I?” She tried to smile at Ingeborg.

“I wouldn’t say that, but I’m going to ask you to do something that might seem silly.”

“What’s that?”

“Lie back down flat and put your feet up on the arm of the sofa. We’ll pad it with a quilt or pillows or something.”

Katy looked at her mother, who shrugged. “They know things in this country we didn’t do at home. Just do what she says.”

Between the three of them, they quickly had her situated. Bridget took over the kitchen, washing the breakfast dishes and adding wood to a stove low on embers. Soon she had the coffee bubbling, and the smell of meat stew floated through the house.

They heard the jingle of harness outside, and within minutes Zeb came in the front door, clapping his gloved hands against his shoulders. “Welcome. Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. That young gelding thinks the other horse should do all the work while he admires the snowdrifts. Old Jezzy set him straight, let me tell you.” He hung up his coat and crossed the room to take Katy’s hand. “Were you warm enough? I was afraid the stove might have burned low.”

“The kitchen did but not in here. Mor is taking care of dinner.”

“Good. I know you get tired of my cooking. Manda tried to talk me into letting her stay home again today.”

“Leave it to her.” Katy tried to sit up, but he gently pushed her shoulder back before Ingeborg could even say anything.

“I have a feeling you’ve been told to lie like this, and so you shall.”

“I must look huge as that beached whale I saw once in the fjord at home.”

“You look lovely to me, so don’t complain.” He kissed the tip of her nose, making her blush. At least that way some color rose in her face.

“Zeb, we have company,” she whispered, catching a giggle in the same breath.

“You think they’ve never been kissed? Maybe I should take care of that right now.”

She grabbed his arm when he started to stand. “Z-e-b.”

With a voice that flowed like warmed syrup and flashing eyes with more than a hint of mischief, Zebulun MacCallister had them all laughing with his descriptions of life in Missouri when they talked about Mary Martha. They ate dinner at a small table pulled up to the sofa where Katy remained flat out, much against her will.

“But I am making such a mess,” she grumbled, brushing away the crumbs.

“Then I shall feed you.” Zeb picked up her fork and transferred meat and potatoes to her mouth.

“But I’m not a baby.”

“No, that is for sure not, but soon you shall have one, and then it will be your turn to stuff food in another’s mouth. Open.”

Afterward Metiz handed Katy a cup of hot tea made from dandelion. “You drink this. Drink much warm water. Keep feet up.”

Ingeborg turned to Zeb. “We could pack her feet in snow for a bit to try to take away the swelling.”

“If it would help. Won’t be hard to get a dishpan full.”

A short time later, with snow packs around her feet and legs, Katy shook her head. “I sure hope this baby comes soon,” she muttered, her feet burning with the cold. “Before you freeze my feet off.” She groaned and shook her head. “And now I have to use the necessary.”

“Good,” Metiz said with a smile. “Tea working.”

“I’m glad it’s doing something, because it tastes awful.”

After they had her back on the sofa and as comfortable as possible, Katy looked at her mother. “I’m an awful bother, Mor. Please forgive me.”

“You shush about bother. Some babies take a bit more out of their mors, and that’s just the way life is. You’ll find it worth all the struggle when that baby is lying in your arms.”

“I can’t wait.” Katy flinched as her belly bounced the blanket up. “This one surely is trying to let me know that he’s in there and getting ready to meet the world.”

It wasn’t too long before Ingeborg asked Zeb to bring up her horses so that she and Metiz could head for home before dusk. “You come for us when you need us, no matter what time of the day or night.”

“I will. Thank you for bringing Bridget. I know Katy will feel better with her here.” He looked down at his snow-covered leather boots. “Am I making up things to worry about, or is something seriously wrong with Katy?”

Metiz leaned forward, the robe slipping from her knees. “She not right.”

Zeb raised fear-filled eyes. “But she will be—right?”

“I hope so,” Ingeborg said softly. “I surely do hope so. Best thing you can do for her is spend more time on your knees, for this is all in the good Lord’s hands.” She rippled the reins, clucking the horses forward. “God be with you.”

“And you.”

Pastor Solberg checked the window of the sod schoolhouse again. The snow that had started out falling gently now swirled and slanted, driven by a north wind blowing right off the ice fields of the northern tundra. He shuddered at the cold he could feel coming in the windowpanes. He couldn’t send the children home in this. Why, oh, why hadn’t he dismissed them earlier?

He couldn’t even see his own house. The church sometimes appeared like an apparition through the snow curtains.

“Baptiste, Swen, please go out and bring in more wood.”

They shrugged into their coats and wrapped mufflers around their necks.

Why hadn’t he been paying more attention? But then, the storm had come like a freight train roaring out of the north. One minute a snowfall, the next a raging blizzard. Thinking of that he asked Thorliff, Knute, Hamre, and Anji to help with the wood. That way they could touch hands. “Stand near each other and pass the wood in. That way no one will miss the schoolhouse.” He buttoned up his coat and added. “Hold hands and we’ll go on out like a chain, with Anji right at the door. Children, don’t be afraid, we’ll be in as soon as we can. Ingrid, you man the door.” The wind tried to rip his hat and coat from his body, but holding hands, they stretched as far as they could.

Solberg squinted against the snow driving into his face. Could they not reach the woodshed? Had he passed it? He swung slightly to the left, feeling with his hand straight out in front of him, the other holding on to Baptiste. Swinging it from side to side like a blind man, he connected with solid wood.