Streams of Mercy (5 page)

“I almost missed one.” Benny sat on his cart, leg stumps resting on the floor. He shook his head. “Arithmetic is always easier.” He cocked his head. “How come you don’t teach in our room?”

Annika wiggled to be let down; she had sat still for about as long as she could. Anji dropped a kiss on the top of her head as she ran off. Little Mark reached up his arms. Sitting in a lap
was his favorite place, no matter whose. Since his mother was busy, Anji was happy to accommodate him.

“I’m putting the coffee on,” Rebecca called from the kitchen. “Pie and cookies will be out in a minute.”

Benny and Lissa, as they usually called her, grinned at each other and headed for the kitchen. The others followed, like lemmings after the Pied Piper.

Mark popped his thumb in his mouth and leaned against her chest, heaving a contented sigh. Anji cuddled him close, rocking gently, listening to the ruckus going on in the kitchen as the others clambered up on the chairs around the table, Joseph telling Gilbert to wait his turn. In Norway the children had been confined to the nursery, allowed downstairs with the adults only at certain times. That was the way of the wealthier society, but not the way Anji wanted to raise her children. Ivar’s daughters by his first marriage had grown up with that and fitted into it quite comfortably, which was why she had agreed with their grandmother to leave them there. Life was comfortable for them there, but Blessing was home to her, with its energy and exuberance and its casual, easygoing approach to life. Mr. and Mrs. Moen had not been pleased with her decision. She regretted that, but not enough to remain in the stiff, strictured culture of Old Norway.

“Coffee’s on.”

“Cookie?” Mark squirmed to be let down, so Anji stood and swept him up in her arms. He probably would not allow himself to be carried much longer. She jiggled him on her hip, making him giggle. In the kitchen she set him in his high chair and helped settle Annika in hers. What a handful! Seven children, all ten or under, Benny and Melissa being the same age.

Rebecca turned from sliding the cookies from the pan onto a rack and then to a plate. With her baby, Agnes, sleeping in
the sling she wore tied around her neck, leaving her hands free to do all the daily chores, she grinned at Anji. She nodded toward the two pies on the counter. “I made extra dough just for this.”

“You are such a wise woman. You must take after our mother.”

Rebecca set the plate on the table and watched as Melissa finished filling the glasses with milk. “Now pass the plate—carefully.” As always, whether she was standing or sitting, her body swayed, keeping the infant content. Then she brought two full coffee cups to the table and sat down with a sigh.

“Tired?”

“Ja. So how were your classes and how come Mr. Devlin didn’t come in?”

“I so enjoy teaching those students, and Mr. Devlin had something to repair at the boardinghouse. He is looking for broken things that can be fixed so he can train his woodworking group in both building and repair.”

“There might be things over at the other house. With Anner gone so long, Hildegunn let things slide somewhat.”

Anji reached for the milk. “Has anyone heard from either of them?”

“Not that I know of.” She mentally counted back. “But then they left only three days ago.”

“Do you think they’ll be back?”

Rebecca snorted. “Not if he has his way.”

“I felt so sorry for her, dragged off like that.” Anji grabbed for a glass of milk that was bumped by the passing plate. “Uff da!”

“Hildegunn was pretty strict with the children, almost harsh, but Benny melted their hearts, even Anner’s, from the first.”

“When are Grandma and Grandpa coming back?” he asked from the other end of the table.

“I have no idea. Do you have homework tonight?”

“Ja and Lissa does too.”

“Not me,” Joseph said, teasing the other two.

“Good. Then you can read to the smaller ones.” Rebecca bobbed her head.

At the sound of boots kicking against the steps, all eyes swiveled to the door.

“Uncle Gerald’s home!” Joseph bailed off his chair before anyone could even say a word and threw open the door, letting in a blast of cold air.

“Shut the door. You want to freeze us out?” Rebecca turned away so the draft wouldn’t hit the baby in the sling, who at the shout was now making waking noises.

Gerald came through the door, and Joseph slammed it behind him. “The temperature is dropping even more.” He slapped his gloved hands together and headed for the kitchen stove. “You’d have thought I walked a mile rather than two blocks.” He patted his adopted son on the shoulder as he passed him. “Did you save me a cookie?”

Benny shook his head. “We ate them all.”

“And your mother didn’t save me even one?”

Benny shrugged. “But we didn’t eat the pie.”

“I should hope not.” He kissed Rebecca on the cheek. “Toby is coming over tonight to talk about something. He didn’t say specifically what, but it sounded like something was on his mind. I told him to come for supper.”

“Of course. It’ll be ready in about an hour.”

“I told him five thirty.” After warming his hands, he hung his coat and hat on the rack by the door.

Anji rose and poured him a cup of coffee. “To help warm you. Has the wind died down?”

“Not much.”

“Uncle Gerald, Benny got a hundred on his spelling,” Joseph said with a wide smile. “He doesn’t like spelling much.”

“I know. Good for you, Benny. I think you will have a surprise in the next day or so.”

“Really? What?” His whole face lit up.

“If I tell you then it won’t be a surprise.” Gerald had yet to leave his position by the stove. “Sure smells good in here.”

“Pa-a.” Benny scrunched his face. “Can I ask a question? Does Ma know?”

Gerald glanced at his wife, his forehead wrinkling. “Ah, no, I don’t think so.”

“Aunty Rebecca knows everything,” Lissa tartly informed Benny.

“Okay, you children go put your toys away. Lissa, you set the table, and I’ll go feed the baby. You want to get supper on the table, Anji?”

“Of course.” She well knew that if little Agnes was not fed before supper, she would make her ma’s meal miserable. Patience did not seem to be part of her makeup. Anji studied Gerald, wondering what was going on. It had to be something momentous.

She started slicing bread and checked the roast in the oven. The meat looked to be getting dry, so she added some water from the teakettle steaming on the back of the stove. Potatoes, turnips, and carrots surrounded the well-done meat, but when she forked a carrot, she knew it would be a while longer until supper. “Lissa, set a place for Onkel Toby.” Leaving Lissa to her work, she checked the hall and stairs. “Gilbert, no toys on the stairs. You know that.”

“Not even a book?”

“No. You can take that and sit down with the little ones in the parlor.”

“I brought the paper,” Gerald said as he sank into the leather rocker by the parlor stove. “Looks like we need some wood in here.” He stared at Gilbert. “Isn’t keeping the box full your job?”

“Yes, sir.” He grabbed the leather carrier and headed for the back porch.

“Sorry. I should have reminded him.”

“No, Anji. He and Benny are old enough to remember their chores.”

She nodded. True, but chores had never been part of their lives before they returned to Blessing. In Norway the servants did the menial tasks. Life certainly was different here.

He asked, “Have you ever considered writing some articles for the paper?”

“Perhaps, but Thorliff seems to be doing fine.”

“Well, I know you were looking for something else to do besides teaching . . .”

“I helped Ivar with his articles for the last couple of years. I guess it’s something to think about.”

“I know. That’s what made me think of it. The series Thorliff ran at Christmas about all the nationalities here in Blessing now was really popular.”

A crash from the kitchen made her charge into that room. “What happened?”

Lissa clutched her hand. “I dropped the pitcher and cut my hand.” Tears welled. “I’m sorry.”

Milk was spreading across the floor, the pieces of glass glittering like ice on a lake.

Anji grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her daughter’s hand.

“It was an accident,” Lissa said.

“Of course.”

“Will Tante Rebecca be angry and yell at me?”

“No, she won’t yell.” Not like the children’s nurse in Norway who did not tolerate mistakes or accidents. Anji gathered her daughter to her side and tightened the towel to stop the bleeding. “You sit in the chair and keep this tight while I mop up the mess.”

“Do you need me?” Rebecca called. “We’ll be done here soon.”

“No, you finish.” Anji picked up the big pieces of glass to put into the dustpan before dumping it in the trash, then started mopping the remaining mess. Gerald had come into the kitchen, and the other children were gathered at the door.

“You all stay out of here,” Gerald said as he peeled back the towel. “Uh-oh. Looks like a bad one.” He pressed on Melissa’s wrist artery. “I think we are due for a run to the hospital. How did this happen?”

“The handle broke off and I tried to catch it all and . . .” She sniffed. “It hurts.”

“I’m sure it does. Anji, leave that and call the hospital. This is mighty deep, and there might be glass in it.” He wrapped the towel even tighter and kept his fingers on the artery. “Joseph, go get Lissa’s coat and scarf. Benny, bring the blanket from the parlor.”

Just then the door opened and Toby came in. “Good grief, it looks like a battlefield in here. How can I help?”

“We’re taking her to the hospital.”

Anji set the receiver back on the hook. “They are calling Astrid and will be ready.”

“Wrap her up well, and we’ll take her and Anji on the toboggan.”

Within minutes Toby was pulling the toboggan with Anji holding her thumb on her daughter’s wrist and cuddling her in the blanket. The wind blasted them, throwing ice bits into the air. Lamplight from the houses marked the way, with the
boardinghouse looming in the darkness. The wind howled around the corners of the houses, fighting to rip the blanket off Anji and her sniffing daughter. Not a night fit for man nor beast, that was for sure. And here two days earlier, the Chinook wind was blowing and they thought spring had arrived.

C
HAPTER 4

A
strid met them at the door, still in her heavy coat and scarf, which she unwrapped as she led the way. “Bring her right in here.”

“We’re all set up.” Miriam turned from setting out the instruments tray.

Toby lifted Lissa up onto the table. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” she said, along with a sniff.

Astrid scrubbed her hands at the sink. “Please tell me what happened.”

Anji recounted the accident and finished with, “So we’ve kept pressure on the wrist to stop the bleeding.”

“Have you let it up?” Astrid peeled back the towel and motioned Anji to release the pressure. “Ah, good.” Bright red blood hovered near the surface but did not well over. “You’ve cleaned it?”

“But there might be glass in it,” Toby said from by the doorway.

“There was broken glass and milk all over the floor.” Melissa sniffed again. “It really hurts.”

“I’m sure it does. You are one brave girl.” Astrid carefully probed the wound, watching Melissa’s face to see if she
flinched more. “Okay, we’ll clean this up as soon as some pain medicine can take effect.” She nodded to Miriam, who poured some syrup into a spoon and held it for Lissa, who wrinkled her nose.

“Just swallow quickly. There is honey with it, so it won’t taste too bitter. It is a salicylic acid mixture that tastes awful but does the job.”

Lissa looked at her mor, who nodded. She clenched her eyes and opened her mouth. A smile tried to come out, but a hiccup hid it. Miriam held a glass of water and Lissa drank some.

“Now, you think about pleasant things—summer things. Let’s get your coat off, and you can lie back on the table. Your mor will stay right here with you while we clean this out and sew it up.”

“Sew me? Like my embroidery?”

“Well, sort of. But we’ll only need three or four tiny stitches.”

“Stick a needle in me?”

“That’s what sewing is. But see, I’m dabbing a bit of a chemical called Stovaine. It’s brand new, and it kills the pain right at the spot.”

Within a couple of minutes, Lissa’s eyelids drooped and she did not seem to be thinking of summer things, or anything. Astrid wondered if the Stovaine and the salicylic acid had interacted; some of the new medical compounds did that.

“You close this,” Astrid said to Miriam when she finished inspecting the wound and stepped back. “Miriam is a better seamstress than I am.” When the stitches were in place and the wound wrapped, Astrid smiled at Anji. “It was a clean cut; glass is good at that. Keep it dry and watch it. If it starts bleeding, bring her back in immediately.”

Miriam helped her sit up.

Astrid asked, “How old are you?”

“Almost ten.”

“Good. You are clear-headed and responsive.” If there was an interaction, it was certainly mild.

“You should see her mothering Annika, and she adores Rebecca’s little ones.” Anji sighed. “I am so glad you have the hospital here now. What a relief to not have to stitch that myself, like our mothers used to.”

“Mor sutured many a wound. So many limbs and lives she saved.”

“You know, I remember those early days, and I would not want to go back.” Anji helped Lissa put her coat back on.

Astrid looked to Toby. “You’re planning on taking them back on the toboggan?” At his nod, she grinned at Anji. “Some people will do anything to get a toboggan ride.”

The child pouted. “I didn’t want to.”

“You might fix a sling tomorrow to help keep from bumping it. You’ll be famous at school with your hand all bandaged.”

“She can go?” Anji asked.

“If she feels like it. That will probably depend on whether she can get some good sleep tonight.” Astrid saw them out the door and watched as Toby settled them back on the toboggan, tucking another blanket around them. “Now, that is one fine man. It’s a shame he hasn’t found a wife yet.”