Streams of Mercy (16 page)

“Lord, bring love and laughter into this room. May all who come into this house be blessed by the love here, the gifts of your Holy Ghost. Let sun flood this room and every other room in this house, that the darkness may be driven away and light remain and grow anew. That everyone always feels welcome here, that children play and study, that your purpose and plan for this house, this family, may come to pass. In your holy name, amen.”

Kaaren started verse two. “Before our Father’s throne . . .”

Back in the kitchen, Reverend Solberg announced, “Let us close in the way Jesus taught us to pray. ‘Our Father . . .’”

At the amen, a silence, this one warm and comforting, settled around them all.

“Thank you, Reverend Solberg. That was perfect.” Anji could feel tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. She sniffed and felt a warm presence close behind her. Thomas Devlin, adding his own comfort. Yes. To her amazement she could feel his presence. “Thank you, everyone, for all the work you have done here. This is so far beyond what I could have dreamed. In fact, I dreaded cleaning this place, but now . . .” She looked up at the ceiling, at the shiny cupboards, the gleaming stove. “This is a home, our home. Thank you.”

She hugged and thanked everyone as they picked up their tools and buckets and headed for home. Now it was only she, Thomas, and Toby.

“We’ll be back to dig up your garden later,” Toby said, then leaned closer. “This house has never felt this good. Bless you, sister.”

“Toby, I shouldn’t ask, but why was it in such a state? I would think Hildegunn was a good housekeeper.”

He pressed his lips together for a moment. “For months after Far went away, Mor did nothing but sit up in her room and write letters. She even put ads in newspapers. The letters always came back marked
Addressee unknown
. She eventually quit trying. When she went out into public, she was the usual Hildegunn. Here in the house she sat with her drapes closed. I offered many times to clean the place up, but she’d say, ‘
No, no, don’t. I’ll get to it.
’” He shrugged. “So I didn’t. It was her house, after all.”

“Oh, Toby, that is so sad.”

“She was a miserably unhappy woman. I can only hope and pray that since Far came back and got her, she is happier now.” Then he took her hand. “Come on. Rebecca has supper ready, and then we’ll bring your clothes over.”

“Right. Tomorrow we will really move in.” Stepping out on the back porch, she looked to the west and caught her breath. “Oh, look at the sunset.” Banners of every shade from lemon to crimson, fiery pink to purple, blazed across the sky. Even the clouds to the east were tinted in shades of pink-trimmed light gray. Anji felt her smile widen. The glorious sunset truly blessed the house cleaning, her new home. All these people—family, friends, and all around good folk. Yes, returning to Blessing had been a wise move, even if her mother-in-law was still upset with her. And that was stating it mildly.

Toby tugged on her hand. “Come on. I don’t want Rebecca mad at me when, for a change, it’s not my fault. Thomas, grab her other hand and let’s go.”

“You are coming too?” Anji asked Thomas.

“Yes, I was invited.”

“Good.” She jumped the bottom step. “Oh, did anyone bank that fire?”

“Not me. Don’t worry, we can start it again. And it’s not so cold tonight. Spring might really be here to stay.” Toby waved to Gilbert, who was standing on the back steps of Rebecca’s house, and yelled, “We’re coming. Your mother was dawdling.”

“I couldn’t just run off and leave all those people without a thank-you, now could I?” Somehow her hands were still clasped in the men’s. She felt like a little girl running off to play with her friends. The house was clean, even the beds all made. Now to move their belongings over and make it their home.
Oh, Ivar, how you would enjoy this
. He had loved living in Blessing too. The way he had decided to move back to Norway, perhaps he had an idea he was not going to get well again. He’d never mentioned that, but he always wanted to please both his mother and his wife. And himself.

“I think we need to have a housewarming,” Rebecca said later when supper was finished and the adults were sitting around the table, enjoying a last cup of coffee.

Gerald frowned. “But why? The house has all the furniture it needs, plus bedding and kitchen things.”

“All but food,” Toby said.

Anji nodded. “That’s what Kaaren said too. You’d better talk with her. I’ve already started a list to give to Penny. She said since she couldn’t come today, she wanted to give me some staples.”

Gerald smiled. “Leave it to Penny. Did you really get it all done?”

“No. I never got back to the rolltop desk, and there are some drawers in the kitchen that still need to be sorted. And the cellar. But that will be easy to clean. There is nothing down there but empty canning jars and odd stuff. I don’t think the attic was
swept either. They did kill a couple of mice, though. As soon as I can get some traps, I’ll set them.”

“We have some you can have. What you need is a good mouser cat.”

“Won’t Lissa be thrilled with that! She’s always wanted a cat.”
But her grandmother Moen didn’t like dirty animals in the house.

“I’ll find you one,” Toby said, picking up the last of the crumbs of the cake with the tines of his fork. “Rebecca, what about you? Should I find two?”

“You might ask at the farms round about. They always have batches of kittens in the barns.”

She and the children would sleep in their new house tonight, a strange house, but tomorrow they would bring over all their belongings and make it theirs. It would not be strange for long.

Later, when her children were tucked into their new beds, Anji readied herself, washing her face at the bowl behind the screen. She’d carried up the warm water and hummed while she slid her nightdress over her head. She blew out the kerosene lamp and climbed into bed, the sheets fragrant with fresh air. The quilt had been aired too. As she lay back against the down pillows, the dust beaten out of them too, she gave a sigh of delight. “Lord, thank you for this lovely clean house. Please drive the sadness away and fill our house with love. Thank you—” She stopped. Was that footsteps she heard?

“Ma?” A voice quivered, and a little body threw itself onto the bed, quickly followed by two more. Lissa paused in the doorway.

“The little ones are scared.” Her voice shook just the littlest bit.

“Come on in. This bed is big enough for us all, at least for tonight.”

“The house is . . . is noisy.” Joseph snuggled into her side.

Gilbert lifted the covers and scooted under them.

Anji made sure everyone had covers, then laid back down herself. “Now, no kicking, you hear? Or you’ll be back in your own bed before you know it.”

Within moments the three younger children were breathing softly. She reached across Joseph and took Gilbert’s hand. “’Night, Gilly.” She’d not used that old nickname for years. Funny how it had slipped out.
Lord, bless us all and good night
.

C
HAPTER 13

S
ometimes spring creeps in, hesitant like a shy kitten. Other years spring throws open the doors and blows the trumpets, heralding her arrival. This year started out like the first, the fierce growl of winter sending the kitten back into hiding. But once spring pounced back again, she stayed. The mud finally dried up, the river that threatened to flood slid back into its banks, and the migrating waterfowl filled the sky with the wild free song of honking geese and calling ducks. The meadowlarks sang their way back north and the chickadees of winter headed to their summer home.

“Can you hear them all?” Ingeborg asked as she, with Freda and Clara, raked the newly tilled and disked garden to ready it for planting. The potatoes would go in first, a good part of the garden—Ingeborg had insisted they plant half an acre into potatoes. Today they would also plant lettuce, peas, and a few other early crops. The remaining space would go to corn, to be planted as soon as the threat of frost had abated.

“You mean the birds?”

“Ja. How I would love to go hunt geese again.”

“Better not to.” Freda attacked a clump of black dirt that had dried rock hard. “I think Manny and Trygve will be going tonight.”

“We need an abundance of goose down. One can never have enough for feather beds and pillows.”

“Smoked goose never goes to waste.” It seemed that Freda almost smiled.

Clara wielded a hoe and rake with some enthusiasm, often raising her face to the sky, as if desperate for the warmth. Although she still tired easily, she was learning to sign and to write letters on a slate, as if starved for the knowledge. She would point to something, such as the twine wrapped around a stick that they used to mark the rows in the garden. She carried a small slate in a big pocket that Ingeborg had sewed onto her apron. Ingeborg would identify the object in English, sign it for her, and write it on her slate. The many times a day she did thusly slowed her down considerably, but seeing smiles come to Clara’s face made all the delays well worthwhile.

Ingeborg’s sewing machine had become Clara’s best friend. In the evenings when the children were doing their homework and Ingeborg was reading aloud, Clara sewed quilt blocks together, all straight seams so that when the quilters got together, they would have more tops to back and tie.

“Did you ever have a sewing machine before?”

Clara shook her head and pantomimed hand sewing with needle and thread. She had caught up on the household’s mending too, since that was something she could do while still recovering.

Easter was well behind them, and now they found themselves nearly to mid-May. Spring was passing so quickly! Ingeborg
nearly wore out a fingernail brush. You cannot knead bread with grit under your fingernails! But most of the planting, and most of the bread, happened anyway.

The Friday sunrise caught her breath. Sunrises and sunsets, God sandwiching her days between glorious color and infinite moments of peace. Coffee cup in her hands, Ingeborg leaned against the turned post on the porch and watched the world blend from one color to another. As the beauty faded, she looked toward the corral where the sheep were bleating to be released to pasture. They’d lined up at the gate where Manny let them out to get a drink and graze their way out to pasture. They had fifteen lambs, as four ewes had twins this year. Last year’s crop was mostly ewe lambs, and they had butchered all the males in the fall. By next fall she would need to borrow a different ram so that there would be no inbreeding. As Haakan had warned her, raising sheep was more than seeing the lambs leaping and playing in the pasture. Manny had stepped into the life of sheepherder, along with making the crates to ship cheese and anything else he was asked to do or could see that needed doing.

And to think Anner Valders had wanted him jailed along with his brothers. That led her to thoughts of Hildegunn. Where were they and how were they?
Lord, you know you promise to keep your eyes on the sparrows, so I know you are watching over them. Please bring Anner
to his senses and back into closeness with you. As
John said, “Power corrupts” and we gave him that power. Please protect Hildegunn.
She sipped her coffee. Now, where had that idea come from?