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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

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BOOK: A Promise for Ellie
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“Don’t feel bad. There’ll be plenty more. Making up makes a good disagreement worthwhile.”

“But I said . . . He said . . .” Ellie shook her head. “It was ugly.”

“Arguments can be like that. You have to talk things out later, is all.”

Andrew Bjorklund, when I get a chance, we’re going to do some
talking all right, and you might not like hearing some of the things I
have to say
.

I
HAVEN’T HAD THAT MUCH FUN
fishing in a long time. Not that I’ve
gone fishing recently
.

Ingeborg thought back over the day. If only they could do things like this more often. A picnic, a ball game, a fishing contest that she and Astrid won easily, and then a fish fry to top it all off. The only sour note in the day was the spat between Andrew and Ellie. She brushed her hair a few more strokes and paused.
Oh, my son, it takes
a lot to rile you, but when you get riled . . .
She shook her head and went back to brushing. She still wished she’d not heard every word, but sound carries down by the river.

Haakan came in from the outhouse and paused in the doorway. “You look like a young girl sitting there like that.”

“I was old when I married the first time. You never saw me when I was young.”

He sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand. “You weren’t old then, and you aren’t old now.” He planted a kiss in the palm of her hand. “We had a good time today, ja?”

“We did. I was just wishing we could do things like that more often. All you men have been working so hard, getting the barn done, the fieldwork, and the haying.”

“Andrew finished up the last of the barn roof. All is weathertight now. And if the rain holds off a few more days, all the hay will be in.

I been cutting at Solbergs’, and Lars is over at Baards’.”

“Like I said.” She leaned into his shoulder while she loosely plaited her hair. “And before we know it, harvest will be here.”

“The days go by so quickly. Is it because we are older, do you think?”

She shrugged. “And wiser, I hope.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Would you like to be young again?”

“How young?”

“Oh, in our twenties but know all that we know now.”

“Ah, my Inge, you think too much about things that are not possible. The Bible says we are to live in the day, this day, not years before or years hence.”

“I did live this day, and I loved every minute of it.” She turned, her smile teasing. “Especially winning the biggest number of fish caught.”

“Ah, but you and Astrid teamed up. That was not fair.”

“No one said we couldn’t.” She kissed his cheek. “You and I need to go fishing more.”

He nodded. “But who caught more? You or Astrid?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know.We didn’t keep track, just kept on pulling in the fish. They tasted so good. Remember how Metiz used to dry the fish? That was one of her winter foods.”

“She taught us many things.”

“At times I still miss her so. I look over to find her cabin by the river and then remember that the flood took it away. Sometimes I wonder if she and Agnes are visiting up in heaven.” She blinked to stop the tears that burned at the back of her eyes and nose. “I know I should be grateful I had them for friends as long as I did . . .” A pause lengthened while she sniffed again. “And I am.” She heaved a sigh. “I really am, but I sure miss them.”

“You have Kaaren.”

“I know. And now we have Elizabeth and little Inga. Remember how for the first years Metiz would go home to visit her family in the winter and come back in the spring? But finally she quit doing that, and I think she counted us as her family instead. All the horrid stories that go around about the Indians. They make me sad.”

Haakan nodded. “I wonder how Baptiste and Manda are doing.”

“We haven’t received a letter from her for a long time.” Ingeborg scrunched her eyes to remember better. “Christmastime perhaps. Yes, that was it. But Deborah shares her letters when she gets them. Just think, they have three children now, perhaps four. It’s hard for me to imagine Manda with four children. I only remember her as a child herself.”

“Sometimes your memory plays tricks.” He yawned. “I need to get to sleep. You’ll blow out the lamp?”

“Ja.” She stood and, cupping her hand around the chimney, blew out the kerosene lamp. Darkness made the moonlit square on the floor even brighter. She folded back the sheet and lay down on the bed. The breeze tossed the sheer white curtains and cooled her neck, kissing her toes as it passed. She stretched against the mattress, listening to the rustling and creaks of the rope-strung bed. Looked to be about time to tighten the ropes again. Haakan’s lips puffed beside her, not deep enough in sleep to snore yet. Staring up at the ceiling, she found his hand with hers, loving the warm feel of it. Even in his sleep he squeezed back when she clasped his hand.

Once in a while lately, she’d seen the black pit yawning as it had so many years before, but now she knew what to do about it. The bigger the pit, the more she threw the Word of God against it, memory verse after memory verse. Had she only known that before, perhaps that year would not have nearly killed her. But as Haakan had said, you had to live each day as it came and dwell on neither the past nor the future. Most of the time she could do that, but banishing Elizabeth’s warning was not easy. If she had more episodes of bleeding like she’d had, they might need to consider a hysterectomy. Even the word was ugly, let alone the procedure of cutting her open and removing her uterus. Not that she needed it anymore, hadn’t for a long time, but the thought of such a thing . . .

Dear Lord, please, there has to be another way
. But if it would help her not to feel so tired all the time . . .
Lord, whatever you will
.

Taking in a deep breath, she let it all out on a sigh and rejoiced as her eyes drifted closed. This time sleep would not be long in coming, not like some of the past nights. Not sleeping steady was another one of those aggravations of late.
Thank you, Father, for Elizabeth and
that I haven’t felt so crabby lately. Mange takk
.

Who was that silent young man eating so fiercely, sitting in Andrew’s place? It looked like her son but certainly didn’t act like him.

Whoever took my boy, please bring him back
. She knew Haakan would laugh if she told him this. Today she and Astrid would pick the peas for the first time this year and maybe find enough baby potatoes under the plants to make creamed peas and new potatoes, another marker of the changing of the seasons for her. So far they’d had radishes and lettuce sprinkled with vinegar and sugar, always the first crops. And strawberries. They should be ready for picking again too.

“You think the dun cow will calve today?” Haakan spoke toward the eating machine at the end of the table. “Andrew?”

“What? Huh?” Andrew blinked as he looked up, his fork poised halfway to his mouth.

“I asked if you thought the dun cow will calve today.”

Andrew shrugged. “I didn’t check on her.”

“I see.” Haakan stared at his son, who’d gone back to eating.

“Were you planning on doing that?”

“I guess.”

“That means yes?”

“Yes, I’ll check on her.” Andrew’s tone cut across the table. He never looked up to see the consternation on his pa’s face.

Ingeborg forced herself to sit still and say nothing, though she wanted to go around the table and smack her son on the back.
What’s
the matter with him?

“Andrew, you know what? You’re being rude.” Astrid glared at him. “And that’s not like the Andrew we used to know.”

He half shrugged and frowned.

“Just because you had a fight with Ellie doesn’t mean—”

“I did not have a fight with Ellie.”

“Oh, you’re being mean on general principle?”

He ignored her comment and pushed his chair back. “As soon as it’s dry enough, we’ll haul from the north field first, right?”

“Ja, I am cutting at Baards’ with Lars,” Haakan replied.

Ingeborg watched her son leave the room, then refilled her husband’s coffee cup, her other hand patting his shoulder at the same time. “All will be well.”

“Ja, I know. But in the meantime, it might get harder.”

After the men left for the fields, Ingeborg and Astrid hurried with the dishes and, setting the roast to cooking in the oven to be ready in time for dinner, hustled out to the garden, gently digging under the potato vines with their fingers for ones big enough to eat, all the while being careful not to disturb the plants.

“I feel like I’m taking eggs from a newly setting hen,” Astrid said as she knelt in the dirt.

“Speaking of which, the hens Ellie brought—one of them was setting the other day. Is she still?”

“Yes. Won’t that make Ellie excited to have a flock of chicks to go with her others?”

“Don’t tell her.”

Astrid chuckled. “I won’t.” Once they had enough potatoes, they moved to the pea trellises and sought through the leaves for the full pea pods.

“Hey, you’re supposed to pick them now, not eat them.” Ingeborg grinned at her daughter as she pushed on the curved side of a huge pod and popped the peas into her mouth. “Nothing is as good as new peas. These are so sweet, you’d think God dusted them with sugar.”

They both munched at the same time, wearing the same amused expression.

“We could just put the pods out on the table and let everyone eat them raw.”

“We could, but that would make it difficult to have creamed peas and potatoes.”

“Right. Back to picking and not eating.”

Ingeborg hummed a tune as she stripped the peas from the vines, making sure each pod was full before pulling it off. The crop looked to be heavy this year, with lots of blossoms and bees buzzing around, doing their pollinating job.

“Mor?”

“Ja.”

“Do you think Andrew is always going to be like this?”

“No. Once the house and barn are finished and they get married, we’ll see our old Andrew again.”

“You sure? I really don’t like him much right now.”

“No, but we love him, and we will pray that God sees him through this.”

“I saw Ellie crying one day.”

“They will work it out. All young people have times like this.”

“Maybe Pa shouldn’t have asked them to wait.”

“Astrid, your far is one of the most conscientious men I have ever known. He would not have asked that of them if he did not have a good reason. Ah, dear daughter, your pa listens to God better than anyone I know. He believes this came from God, and so do I.”

“Andrew doesn’t.”

“Then that will be between God and Andrew, won’t it?”

“I guess. I think I wouldn’t want to be in Andrew’s shoes.”

“Reminds me of the Jonah story. He didn’t like what God said, and he tried to run away.”

“Until the whale ate him.” Astrid stopped picking. “How could a man live for three days in the belly of a whale?”

“Only by the hand of God.”

“Good thing there aren’t any whales in North Dakota.”

“God will use whatever He has to use to bring Andrew to the place He wants him to be.”

“You want to pick the next row too?”

“Ja, get them all. We’ll mix some with the lettuce for salad.”

Barney’s barking drew their attention to a man riding up the lane.

“Do you know who that is?”

“No. I’ll go see. You keep picking. If you get done, start on the strawberries. Perhaps I’ll get a batch of jam made this afternoon.” Ingeborg carried her basket up and set it on the porch, then turned to greet the rider.

“Hello. Are you Mrs. Bjorklund?”

“Ja, that I am.” She waited at the gate for him to dismount. “How can I help you?”

“I heard you was looking for milk cows.”

“Ja. You have some for sale?”

“Two milking and a heifer due in a month or so.”

“How old are the two and what kind?”

“Oh, three or four, I’d guess. Just milk cows. No particular breed.”

“Why are you selling them?”

“I’m going back home. Lost my wheat to grasshoppers last year and got no money to buy seed. Better to go back to Iowa and work for my pa.”

BOOK: A Promise for Ellie
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