Sophie's Dilemma (42 page)
‘‘Welcome home, Mr. Wiste.’’ Lily Mae tossed her comment and a knowing grin over her shoulder as she carried a stack of sheets fresh off the clothesline up the stairs to the upper linen closet.
Sophie snatched her hand back. If she thought she’d been warm before, now the heat was akin to standing in front of an open fire. A big fire. ‘‘Ah, supper won’t be ready for a couple of hours. Would you like something cold to drink?’’
‘‘Later perhaps. Right now I’m heading over to see how far they’ve gotten on my house. Would you like to come along?’’
‘‘I’d love to, but I’m needed here.’’
And waddling across town is not
appropriate, as Mrs. Valders reminded me the last time I went to the post
office
. Why was it important for women to disguise or hide away something so natural as having a baby? That was another one of those questions that had no answer. Surely it wasn’t scriptural.
Besides which, her feet were a bit swollen, and she knew that if she didn’t lie down, Mrs. Sam would tell Dr. Elizabeth, who might make true her threat of bed rest. ‘‘I’ll have some supper ready for you when you get back.’’
And we can talk after supper too. Oh, how I’ve missed our
evening visits. I wonder what his surprise is
.
D
O I ASK HER TONIGHT?
She was certainly happy to see me.
No more than I was her. All I wanted to do was sweep her up in my
arms and kiss those lips that smiled so brightly.
Surely this is love. Love!
He wanted to shout it to the birds that winged overhead. Never had he understood dithering before, thinking it more a female thing. But one look at her face and he’d had a hard time breathing. A hard time keeping a sane thought in his head. Had he been like this when he was courting Maddie? The thought gave him pause. Probably, but it was long enough ago that he’d forgotten.
I love Sophie Bjorklund, and I’m going to ask her to marry me.
But will she say yes? What if she says no?
This thought brought him back to rational thinking with a thump. He stumbled over a chunk of black soil, baked so hard it bore all the look and feel of a rock. But unless hauled in, there were no rocks in this portion of the Red River Valley, at least as far as he knew. Glancing around, he was glad to see no one smirking at his clumsiness. In fact he saw no one at all. But then, other than the farmers, most people were wise enough to find some shade or a breeze. He took out his handkerchief to wipe his face. No, not everyone. He could hear hammering from the direction of the church, from the direction of his house. It sounded like an echo of that going on at the flour mill.
It was all he could do to keep from running toward the sound.
‘‘Welcome home,’’ Pastor Solberg called from the door to the church. ‘‘I just took water over to the men working on your house.
Would you like some too?’’ He came down the steps and reached out a hand. ‘‘Good to see you back.’’
‘‘Good to be back. Being in Minneapolis sure made me aware of how much better I like it here.’’
‘‘Did you get your house sold?’’
‘‘That I did. The day I finished the repairs, a man walked up and met my price.’’
‘‘God’s like that. Often right down to the last minute but never late.
I’m glad it worked out that way for you. I know there were some prayers going up for you from here.’’
Garth glanced at the man walking beside him, a man who talked about prayer as if he’d just come from a visit with his best friend. ‘‘So what has gone on here while I’ve been gone?’’
‘‘Oh, graduation is this weekend. Mr. Gould will be arriving tomorrow. We’ve all been busy sprucing things up at the church and schoolhouse both. When they cut the grass around the two buildings, they went ahead and cut yours too. I hope you don’t mind.’’
‘‘Mind? Of course not. I’m very pleased.’’ Garth stopped to shake his head at the two piles of sand and gravel waiting to be mixed with cement and water for the basement walls. ‘‘It looks like enough supplies here to build two houses.’’ Stacks of lumber of various sizes took up a good portion of what would one day be his yard. He knew the crates held windows, but he’d not realized there would be so many. Would Sophie like this house? She helped pick it out, but still . . . Everything seemed to return to Sophie in his mind.
‘‘It’s some different looking at a picture, and then at the materials, isn’t it?’’
‘‘You took the words right out of my mouth.’’ They stopped at the edge of the hole in the ground, and he waved at the two men putting up forms.
‘‘Hey, Garth, what do you think?’’ Toby Valders waved a hammer to indicate what they had done. ‘‘We’d have been farther along, but we were needed over at the mill a few days.’’
‘‘Looks good to me.’’ He studied the three wall frames already built. He’d never mixed or poured concrete. This would be a new experience. As far as that went, he’d never built a house either.
‘‘We should be ready to pour these walls day after tomorrow. Then they can set over the weekend and we’ll start on the floor joists on Monday.’’
‘‘We’ve planned the house-raising for the next weekend, if that is all right with you,’’ Pastor Solberg added.
‘‘More than all right. It’s wonderful.’’ Garth turned to stare at the pastor. ‘‘You all planned this even when I was gone?’’
‘‘You said you were coming back, and we need you at the mill. Besides, you’re a member of Blessing now, and we take care of our own.’’
‘‘And anyone who happens to need something.’’
‘‘If we can.’’
‘‘My brother-in-law is coming out to work on the house too. He’s tired of working in the mills.’’
‘‘Is he a good carpenter?’’
‘‘Yes, a bricklayer too.’’
‘‘I’m sure the Bjorklunds would be glad to have him on their construction company.’’
‘‘My sister is coming with my children as soon as the house is finished.’’ ‘‘It sounds like you made some decisions.’’
‘‘I did. This place is my home now.’’ He turned back from watching the men nail up more boards and clapped the pastor on the arm. ‘‘Thanks isn’t enough, but until I find a way to repay, it will have to do.’’
‘‘Oh, I’m sure God will find a way to even it all out.’’
Garth flinched inside. ‘‘I haven’t been on too good of terms with God since my wife died, but surviving the mill explosion brought this believer back to praying like never before. I don’t take life for granted anymore.’’
‘‘He’s always waiting for us to come back. And looks to me like He’s been providing too. Overwhelming grace, I call it.’’
Garth sucked in a deep breath. ‘‘For a while there I figured work was the only remedy.’’
‘‘It helps. That and the folks He brings into your life. Spend time in the Scriptures and worship Him in spite of the pain. He understands when we blame Him for things we do not understand. Sometimes life makes no rhyme or reason, but He stays faithful, full of mercy and grace.’’
‘‘I don’t deserve—’’ ‘‘None of us do.’’
The answer lay gentle on the breeze that tickled Garth’s ear, much as if God were whispering to him himself. ‘‘Thank you.’’
‘‘Anytime. Door’s always open.’’
‘‘Pa.’’ A voice carried on the wind stopped them.
Pastor Solberg turned. ‘‘I’m being called. See you on Sunday.’’
‘‘Yes.’’ Garth watched the man stride off and let his own sigh join the breeze. Strange how much lighter he felt. He thanked the men in the cellar and headed back to the boardinghouse. Now if only he could find just the right time to talk with Sophie and see if she would do him the honor of becoming his wife and living in his new house.
Sophie lay on her bed, thinking she should get up, but the breeze coming in the window teased the cream lawn nightdress that she’d donned after a cooling basin bath bade her rest a bit longer. Since there was no way she could see her ankles, even though two pillows held them up, without lifting her leg, she chose to not think about the swelling and just enjoy the comfort.
The babies didn’t bother to rest at the same times she did, so sleeping had become somewhat hit and miss. ‘‘I wonder what you are going to be like,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Are you two sisters, two brothers, or one of each?’’ She’d been thinking of names. Hamre if one was a boy—that was not even a question. But she needed another boy’s name. Name a girl after her mother and sister? Kaaren Grace? Grace Kaaren? Her mind wandered off without asking permission. Thanks to the money Hamre had saved, she could now travel when and where she wanted. But every time she thought of places to go, guilt crept in and tainted the dream. Hamre had worked so hard for the money that at least part of it needed to be used for something lasting. A house? An addition to the boardinghouse? She’d thought of talking this over with her mor and far but hadn’t done so.
While she knew the money was legally hers, it still didn’t feel like it really was.
Besides, how could she travel with two small babies to nurse? Even with a nanny. She’d thought to take Grace along, but what if Grace didn’t want to go? What did Grace want to do now that she was graduating? She’d talked of many things in the past.
A thought sneaked in on tiptoes. You could hire a wet nurse and be free to travel by yourself. What would it be like—to be free?
A tapping at her door sent the thoughts spinning off. ‘‘Yes?’’
‘‘You’re awake?’’ Mrs. Sam opened the door and looked in.
‘‘Yes, the babies decided to play a game of tag. Or kickball. Come on in.’’
‘‘I brought you some cold milk. Thought that might taste good.’’ Mrs. Sam shouldered open the bedroom door and set a small tray on a table. ‘‘Cookies too.’’
Using both of her arms, Sophie pushed herself up against the pillows and the headboard with a groan. ‘‘Standing works, lying flat works, but sitting? Not as good.’’
‘‘Dr. Elizabeth come by. She say to let you sleep.’’ Mrs. Sam handed Sophie a napkin to place on her belly and a glass of milk.
‘‘Well, sometimes this shelf is good for something.’’ She rested the glass on the napkin. ‘‘Thank you.’’ Nibbling on a lemon cookie, she tried to keep from dropping crumbs.
‘‘Storm coming up.’’ Mrs. Sam pulled up the rocking chair and sat down.
‘‘How do you know?’’
‘‘Smell it on de wind.’’
Sophie had given up trying to understand how Mrs. Sam knew so many things. She dampened a fingertip to pick up a cookie crumb. ‘‘So have you decided?’’ Sophie asked. ‘‘Is it boys or girls?’’
‘‘One girl, I think, not sure yet on de other.’’
‘‘What does Dr. Elizabeth think?’’
Mrs. Sam shrugged.
‘‘Tante Ingeborg?’’
Another shrug. ‘‘She say bring a potty chair in here for you.’’
‘‘Speaking of which . . .’’ Sophie handed off the glass and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She stuffed her arms into the sleeves of the dressing gown that Mrs. Sam held for her and headed for the necessary. The potty chair sounded like a wonderful idea.
When she returned to her room, she found a dress all laid out for her on the bed, the tray gone, and the curtains billowing at the windows. While the dress had been cut plenty big, already it was feeling snug around the middle. Whoever would’ve dreamed she’d be this big and six weeks more to go? She dressed, slid her feet into felt slippers since she could no longer button her shoes, and tied an apron in place with a very small bow. Even the ties were getting short.
Six weeks or so of lying around like this? It sounded like a lifetime.
After supper she and Garth took their coffee out onto the back porch. Lightning forked the sky like cracks in a celestial mirror. While thunder grumbled off in the distance, it came no closer. Sophie put her feet up on the stool they kept there for her and let her head rest against the back of the chair. The cool breeze kissed her skin while the crickets serenaded them. She could hear Mrs. Sam and her crew cleaning the kitchen, the clatter of dishes and pans a counterpoint to the night music.
‘‘So what did you think of your house?’’ she asked.
‘‘Farther along than I thought. Looking at that hole in the ground made the whole thing a reality.’’ He then told her some about his conversation with Pastor Solberg. ‘‘He’s a fine man and a good pastor.’’
‘‘I guess. But then I don’t really know any different. He’s been the pastor here since about the time I was born, I think, and always my schoolteacher, other than my mother. I was angry at him for refusing to marry Hamre and me when we left here, but now I realize he was doing what he could in the hope we would stay here.’’
‘‘Are you sorry you went with Hamre?’’
‘‘Never.’’
‘‘Do you still love him?’’
She thought a long while before answering. ‘‘In a way. But it is hard to remember at times. We were together such a short time. Almost like it was only a dream or a book I read. Until I move. Then reality is here.’’ She laid her hand on her belly. ‘‘What about you?’’
‘‘I realized when I was in Minneapolis that Blessing is now home to me, and I want my life here to really begin. I thought I would wait until the house was finished, but like I told you, I’m tired of waiting.’’ He paused for deep moment. ‘‘Sophie.’’ He leaned forward, then rose and pulled his chair closer so he could take her hand. ‘‘I know that I have fallen in love with you, and I am asking if you feel the same about me.’’