A New Day Rising (33 page)

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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #Red River of the North, #Dakota Territory, #Christian, #Norwegian Americans, #Westerns, #Fiction, #Romance, #Sagas, #Historical Fiction, #Large Type Books, #Frontier and Pioneer Life

BOOK: A New Day Rising
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"And then they came, just like the other day. Baptiste kinda faded into the woods like Metiz has taught him, 'cause the other day they were teasing him and being mean. They called Baptiste a .. He paused and sniffed again.

"Go on."

"A dirty Indian. Mor, he's not a dirty Indian! He's cleaner than they are. They wear dirty clothes and talk bad. So I ... I jumped on Arnie and punched him hard."

"Good for you." Lars leaned forward in his chair. "You should have told us."

"And then what happened?" Ingeborg spoke softly, knowing if she raised her voice her fury would overflow and scare Thorliff more than he already was.

Thorliff shot Lars a look of gratitude, then looked back at his mother. "Bert jumped on my back, and we were rolling all around, and I kept trying to push them off of me, and then Paws bit him. He punched me one more time and went running back to their wagon. Paws didn't mean to hurt him, Mor. He was just protecting me."

"Oh yes, he did." Lars slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. "If I could get out there, I'd give them a lick or two myself."

"And, here, we've been helping them out!" Kaaren in full fury was a sight to behold. She headed for the door, rage turning her pale face to bright red.

"No! Kaaren, wait." ingeborg leaped to her feet and went after Kaaren. "We need to hear the whole story first, and then we will decide."

"Now, Thorliff." Ingeborg took the chair facing her son again. "Why didn't you tell me this had been going on?"

"I ... I wanted to take care of it myself. You are working so hard, and you said I'm a big boy, and you trusted me with the sheep, and ..." His voice ran down, his shoulders slumped, and he hung his head.

"Hitting someone is always wrong. You know that." ingeborg reminded him softly.

"Not when someone beats up your friend," Lars said with a snort. Kaaren laid a hand on his shoulder and tightened her grip.

"After all we have done for them." Kaaren shook her head again. "You know, children don't come up with things like this without first hearing it from a grown-up. If that's the way the mister and missus feel, I don't want them squatting on our land."

Surprise making the edges of her mouth twitch, Ingeborg looked up at the usually peaceable Kaaren. "Squatting? You invited them, remember?"

"Not if I'd known they could act like this."

Ingeborg remembered how Metiz disappeared the day the Strands drove up. "Has Metiz been back since they came?"

Kaaren and Lars shook their heads.

"I wish I hit them harder." Thorliff's lower lip stuck out to match the swollen upper one.

"What's going on?" Haakan and Hjelmer arrived at the same time.

By the time Ingeborg told them the story, a black thundercloud had settled on Haakan's brow. "I will go talk with Oscar. He's on his way in from the field now." He turned to answer the question before Lars could ask. "He came to me and asked if there was anything he could do to repay us for our generosity, so I sent him out to your far west field to plow. His team has had a good rest and about grazed off the entire center field here, so why not?"

"I was going to tell them to move on." Ingeborg sighed. She stroked the hair back again from Thorliff's forehead.

"They need to have a wheel tightened, as the rim is about to fall off. Oscar asked if I could help him do that." Hjelmer stood, turning his hat in his hands. "I told him I would, but maybe I shouldn't."

"I think it would be a good thing for you to do tomorrow. We have enough wood cut?" Haakan asked.

"I think so, but it will leave us tight."

"You could let him cut his own wood." On one hand ingeborg appreciated the men discussing the arrangements, and on the other, she resented when they didn't include her in the conversation. Don't be silly, she chided herself. Just be grateful you and Kaaren are no longer here alone. The thought of Haakan being gone by the winter sent frost quivering up her back.

"But that would delay them one more day or even more." Haakan squatted down in front of Thorliff. "I had hoped they would be good friends for you, but I can see that I was wrong. You did good, boy, sticking up for your friend that way. But next time, think it through first so you can do them some real damage without getting beat up yourself."

"Haakan!" Ingeborg tried to look indignant.

"Just teaching him the lay of the land." Haakan turned to go outside. "Let's get washed up so we can eat. Those fields are waiting." He stopped at the door. "Where are your sheep, boy?"

"In the corral at home."

"Good job, son, you did real well."

When the men returned from washing and sat down at the table, Kaaren served the meal without a word. Thorliff still sniffed once in a while, and Andrew kept reaching out, trying to touch his brother's swollen eye. "Tor, bad owie." Each time he said it, the little one shook his head, a doleful look on his face.

About the third repeat, Thorliff's fat-lipped mouth began to twitch. He looked at his mother, who was shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

"Poor Tor, bad owie." This time Andrew patted Thorliff's head.

ingeborg looked at Haakan, who winked back at her. Lars let out a snort. Only Hjelmer continued to eat, seeming to be off in a land of his own.

"Poor..."

Ingeborg bit her lip, but it didn't do any good. She started to laugh. Thorliff looked at her and joined in. Kaaren hid her giggle behind her hands, but Lars and Haakan broke loose. Andrew looked at each laughing person as if trying to understand what the joke was. They laughed harder, so he joined in, his belly laugh making the others laugh still more. When Thorliff laughed, it hurt his lip, so he yipped an "ow."

Andrew sobered instantly. "Poor Tor-" He began again but cut it off when the others burst into another round of laughter. Banging his spoon on the table, he waved his other hand in the air.

"What's so funny?" asked Hjelmer, coming out of his daze.

Haakan shrugged. "Nothing I guess, if you didn't see or hear it." He lifted his cup. "Could I please have some more coffee."

Ingeborg jumped up to get it. If anyone had walked in on them, they would certainly have thought the Bjorklunds on the verge of lunacy. That laugh of Andrew's could make a stump smile.

"So what are we going to do about the bite on the boy's leg?" Kaaren asked, sipping her coffee.

"It won't be a problem after I talk with Oscar, I'm sure." Haakan pushed his chair back. "Lars, I have that hunk of wood you requested. You can start working on your crutch after dinner." He grabbed his hat off the peg on his way out. "Hjelmer, I'll meet you at the corral. Ingeborg, why don't you and Thorliff go work in the garden this afternoon. Better keep Paws with you. I don't like the look of that black beast of theirs."

The look he shot her kept Ingeborg in her seat. He was going to deal with the Strands. It really should be her place to speak to them, but instead she poured herself another cup of coffee. How come it felt so good and right to let him shoulder this responsibility? If she weren't careful, all her hard earned decision-making power might fall by the wayside.

Thorliff drank the last of his milk and started to go after Haakan.

"Wait right there, young man. We have some talking to do." Ingeborg pointed at his chair. The boy slid back in place. "Now, we've never had to talk about this because it's never come up before, but there are better ways of dealing with problems than trying to beat someone up."

"Yes, ma'am."

"When you get in an argument with one of the Baard boys, what do you do?"

"I don't never get in an argument with them. They are my friends."

"Well, why can't Arnie and Bert be your friends?"

"'Cause they don't like me, and they called Baptiste a bad name. The Bible says to stick up for your friends."

ingeborg shook her head. "Where?"

"In the David and Jonathan story. Saul was going to kill David, but David's friend Jonathan stopped him. And Saul was the king, besides being Jonathan's father."

"Ah, yes." Ingeborg paused, trying to think fast enough to get around this one. "But Jonathan didn't start to hit Saul, did he?"

"No, ma'am."

"Sometimes a well-delivered punch turns away wrath," Lars offered. Thorliff shot him a hopeful look.

"And sometimes it gets the stuffing beat out of you." Ingeborg glared at him. "Thorliff, you're good enough with words that you should be able to talk your way out of problems. I want you to try that in the future. Remember the Bible also says, 'A soft answer turneth away wrath.'"

It says, "Love thine enemies," too, a little voice inside accused her. Ingeborg tousled Thorliff's hair and stroked her hand down his cheek, feeling the swelling around his eye. Right now, love wasn't what she felt for those Strand terrors or for their mother, either.

Later, while she and her boys were marking rows and dropping in the precious seeds, she looked up to see Mary Ruth waltzing across the field with the water jug to give Hjelmer his afternoon sustenance. To her mind, they spent a mighty long time over the water jug. Then, when Hjelmer finally did hup the oxen into motion again, Mary Ruth strolled along right beside him.

And he's spending Sunday afternoons calling on Penny Sjornson. What's with that boy, playing two girls along like that? He's asking for trouble sure as shooting.

It took several more days before the Strands hitched up their wagon and were ready to head on west. The morning dawned with a cloud cover that looked like rain, but no one offered to let them stay longer.

Ingeborg was on her way out to the barn to check on the cow that was about to drop her calf when she heard two voices. She turned the sod corner in time to see Mary Ruth and Hjelmer in an embrace that brought the heat blazing up her throat. She ducked back before they saw her, but then, it would have taken a herd of buffalo to catch their attention, so engrossed were they in each other.

She had a string of names for the two of them that lasted about a mile long. Don't matter to me what girl he marries or doesn't as the case may be. She put her palms to her still sizzling cheeks. Why, no one had ever kissed her like that before the marriage bed, that was for certain. Her mor would have flayed the skin from her daughter's bones had she ever caught her in such a compromising situation. Only girls of low morals acted like that.

And, here, that was Roald's brother going right along with it. What was the matter with him? She felt the cow's distended bag and patted her with soothing words, words hard come by when she really wanted to lay into those two young people. Far as she knew, they were still there. She left the cow and stormed back to the soddy. Did trouble naturally follow that young man, or did he invite it?

She wrapped a loaf of bread in a cloth and added a large hunk of cheese. If they weren't so low on meat, she'd have included a venison haunch. All the while she wondered at what she was doing. Much as she disliked the woman, her daughter, and the two middle boys, it seemed to Ingeborg that Oscar Strand and the little ones shouldn't suffer want because of the others. Unless they headed into St. Andrew for supplies, it was a long way west before they'd run into another town. Had Haakan told them about Grafton to the southwest?

When Ingeborg and Andrew arrived at the wagon, Mary Ruth was just climbing in the tailgate, and Hjelmer was no where in sight.

"Here, I brought this for your dinner. Hope you find some land you are happy with." She handed the packet to Oscar, who smiled down at her.

"Mange takk for this and all you've done for us. You're good folks."

Mrs. Strand sniffed and turned to say something to her children. A smack, a cry, and with the reins slapping the horses' backs, they left.

"Good riddance," Kaaren said for ingeborg's ears alone.

"I have a feeling we're going to see more of them, yet." Ingeborg stood clutching her elbows. Andrew pulled up a dandelion and held it up to her.

"Mor, pretty fowler."

"Yes, my son, it is, and so are you." She picked him up and hugged him to her. Was he hot? She felt his forehead. Sure enough, and was that a mosquito bite on his face? By midafternoon he was covered with spots and fussing, wanting only to be held in his mother's arms. Ingeborg remembered the spotty baby that had arrived when the Strands drove in. Mrs. Strand had said it was heat rash but ingeborg now knew better. Was it measles or scarlet fever?

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