Dakota December and Dakota Destiny (10 page)

Guilt that she’d left her son to the good graces of Mrs. Hanson made Johanna take a step forward. She should have been in the kitchen helping prepare the meal instead of lazing around in the parlor. What was the matter with her, getting ahead of her station like that? The thought plagued her, easily shattering the sense of peace she’d been harboring. She set her empty coffee cup on the tray, but before she could pick it up, Caleb beat her to it.

“I’ll just take this back to the kitchen and join you in the dining room.”

Once again he caught her off guard. Being taken care of like this could become a habit. Would it be possible for her and the sheriff to remain friends? She’d heard stories of men leaving their families behind and starting new lives in the West. Could she do it too?

But, Johanna,
a voice seemed to whisper in her ear,
all your life you’ve told the truth. Can you live a lie now?

I already am,
she thought.
Surely one more won’t make any difference.

“So, do you think you would like to own the dressmaking shop?”

Johanna stared across the desk to the woman sitting erectly in the chair behind it. Gudrun clasped her hands on the blotter in front of her and looked over the rim of her glasses. The silence of the office felt as thick as before a thunderstorm, yet the twinkle in the faded eyes promised the freshness of spring rain.

“I—I . . .” Johanna blinked and started again. “You know I would like to, that isn’t the problem. I have no, or rather, so little money.” She’d earned a few dollars sewing for others. Shaking her head, she continued. “And I have nothing to barter.”

“You have yourself and the skill of your mind and hands. I have watched you as you deal with others and you deal fairly, you understand how to set a price for your work. In my mind those are the attributes of a good businesswoman. The bank is willing to loan you the money based on those things. Those and the fact that the shop itself has made money in the past and is filling a need in the community.”

“The bank or you?”

“The bank, on my recommendation.” Gudrun leaned forward. “You want a new life, why not here where you already have friends to help you get started?”

Johanna closed her eyes and sighed
. Is this what I am supposed to do? Dear God,
I’ve been asking for an answer, is this it?
“Why not? You are right but I feel like I’m standing on a high cliff and about to jump off.”

“Just so you don’t feel like someone is pushing you off. I am so certain I am right that at times I get a bit heavy-handed, at least that’s what some of my friends tell me.” The twinkle brightened. “That is a failing of mine for which I’ve had to ask forgiveness more than once. But in your case, I feel so strongly this is the right move, that the shop will be good for you and you for it, that I can’t help but push. Your buying it will make everyone happy, including Miss Sharon and her George. What a wedding gift we are giving them. They’ll be able to leave sooner than they had hoped.”

Johanna let the words roll over her. She heard them, but for the life of her, she couldn’t respond. She, Mrs. Raymond Carlson, Johanna, would own a dressmaking shop in the town of Soldahl, North Dakota. She would live there in that lovely little house with her two children and people would come to her to order their dresses and fine linens. And hats too, she added as an afterthought. She’d never made a real hat, only those she knit.
But I can do it, I know I can.

With each thought she could feel her spine straightening and her shoulders squaring.
I will sign the papers Mrs. Johanna Carlson and that will be the end of that.
The day she signed the papers would be the day for her new life to begin. Not that it hadn’t already but that would make it official.

“When will we—what is the next step?”

“If you are in agreement, as soon as a contract is ready, we will meet with Hopstead so you can sign it. The wedding is on Saturday and Miss Sharon said she could be moved out by Sunday. You will have to get together with her so she can show you where everything is. I think she would like to leave much of her furniture so she doesn’t have to pay to ship it to Montana but that is something you can discuss with her.”

Johanna could feel her hands begin to shake so she clenched them into fists and buried them in her lap. Soon even her lips were shaking. Surely Mrs. Norgaard could hear her heels clicking on the floor. What in the world was she doing? Borrowing such an enormous amount of money from a bank and from a friend and thinking she could have a business of her own? What in the world possessed her to think she could do such a thing? What would Raymond say, that is, providing he ever found out? And her mother and father, why they would roll over in their graves.

You’re afraid,
a little voice whispered in her ear.
Scared spitless,
she wanted to scream back. And with just cause.

“You know, my dear, my husband, God rest his soul, used to say that when you had God as a partner, you didn’t need to be afraid or worried because you had the best partner possible. I think that applies to all areas of our lives, both business and everyday living. It sure has helped me through many decisions. I always pray, knowing God will answer.”

“Thank you, I’ll remember that.” Johanna got to her feet. “I think I better go check on Angel and I have some mending to do for a lady. Thank you for all you have done for us. God surely counts on you as one of His servants.” She darted from the room before the moisture welling up overcame her parched throat and spilled out her eyes.

“We found your wagon,” Caleb said a couple of nights later when he’d come for supper. “You’d gotten way off the road and down in a low spot. The drifts just covered it over until this bit of a thaw.” He shook his head. “Thank God you had the presence of mind to get on the horse and let him bring you in.”

Johanna nodded. She thanked God every day for the miracle of their rescue. “Thank you, Sheriff.” Henry tugged at her sleeve and pointed to Sam. The dog wagged his tail. “I know we have Sam to thank too.” She put both hands around the dog’s face and looked directly into his eyes. “Sam, you are the best dog in the whole world.” Stroking his soft head, she wondered what would happen to Henry when Sam returned to his own house. Surely the sheriff didn’t intend to give up his dog forever. So many things to think about.

“Thought I’d take your horse out tomorrow and drag the wagon free and bring it in.”

“You need some help?” Dag asked.

“Yup, could use some.” He looked over at Johanna with a smile deepening the creases at the outside of his eyes. “We’ll put it in the lean-to of the barn at your house. I already took some hay over there and a sack of grain for your horse. If you want you can buy milk from the Ericksons, on the next block and one house in. Their cow freshened so they have plenty, and they usually sell a few eggs too. I’d bring some in for you but my hens quit laying about the time that you arrived. They didn’t like that blizzard any better’n the rest of us.”

“Thank you.” Johanna’s thoughts flew to the boxes of dishes and pans, sheets, and quilts Mrs. Hanson and Gudrun had been packing for her. They said it was all stuff no longer used in the big house but to Johanna it was riches unheard of.

Three more days and she could build a fire in her own cookstove, tuck Henry into what would be his own bed, and work as late into the evening as she desired. She would pay the mortgage off long before its time if there were any way humanly possible.

The whole town turned out for the wedding and to send the bride and groom on their way. After the service, they greeted everyone, cut the cake, and ran for the train.

“I’m so glad you came to take over for me,” Miss Sharon, now Mrs. Drummond, called to Johanna from the steps of the train. “Thank you, thank you everyone.” She waved again as the “All aboard” echoed down the track.

“So, would you like us to help you move in now?” Caleb stood at Johanna’s shoulder, Henry between them.

“Really?” Johanna fingered the keys given her just before the bridal couple boarded the train. She’d never had keys to anything, let alone a house and shop.

“Why not? It isn’t like you have a trainload of stuff to move. We’ll hitch up your horse and bring him ‘round to the mansion. I heard tell that there are a few others with items to help you get started, the Moens for sure.” Caleb hefted Henry up on his shoulders. “Let’s get to it.” He waved to Dag who was just handing Gudrun into the sleigh. “I’m ready anytime you are.”

Dag returned the wave. “I’ll meet you at my house then.”

“How about you and Henry stop at your new house? You can look around and decide where you want things while we load up.”

Johanna felt caught up in the middle of a twister. “But . . .”

“No problem, Mrs. Hanson and Clara know what is to go, they’ll probably beat us over there. Gudrun can watch Angel until we get things a mite more settled, then we’re all invited back for supper. I think Mrs. Hanson had this all planned, she just likes to let the rest of us think we’re in charge.” He took her arm and, all the while he talked, they made their way up the now bare boardwalk to stop right in front of the picket fence surrounding the weathered building. He pushed open the gate and waved her through.

Johanna stopped halfway up the walk. An aged oak tree spread bare branches over the western side of the house, promising the cool rustle of leaves and shade during the hot summer. One branch cried for a rope swing. Under the snowbanks, Miss Sharon had said, slept hollyhock and pansies, daisies and daffodils. Johanna closed her eyes to imagine a pink climbing rose twining up the porch post and across the lintel. She’d have a rocker on the front porch and maybe a pot of flowers, bright and cheery. Miss Sharon’s sign would come down to be replaced by . . .

Her eyes flew open. “What am I going to call my shop?”

“
Johanna’s
sounds good to me, better than
Carlson’s
.” His voice came from right to the left of her ear. She could feel the heat of him, even through her wool coat. The temptation to lean back and let his strong body hold her up sent warmth flying into her face. She could feel it, like a windburn. Almost in desperation, she fumbled in her pocket for the set of keys. With them securely in her hand, she led the way up the steps, across the porch, and to the storm door. She took a deep breath before opening the door and sliding a shaking key into the hole. She turned it, heard the click, and, after shooting an imploring look, put her hand on the knob.

Please, Lord, let this be the best move ever. Please bless us and our new home.
She took another deep breath, let it out, and turned the doorknob. The bell tinkled over the opening door, a welcome sound, and she stepped inside. Sure enough, all the fabrics were as she’d seen before. The room looked like Miss Sharon might be in back, working on a garment for a customer. Johanna fought down the urge to call “Is anyone home?” and took two more steps into the room.

“You’ll be all right here?” Caleb’s deep voice broke the stillness.

“Ja, we will.” She whispered her answer, afraid if she spoke too loud, the spell would break. At that moment she slammed the door on that former life, one she would put out of her mind and heart forever to begin this life anew.

“I’ll be going then. We should be back within an hour or so.”

She turned and looked up to the man who had set her son down when they came through the door. The low ceiling didn’t allow for a tall man with a boy on his shoulders. “Thank you, Caleb. I cannot say it enough.”

“You just look around and decide where you want things so’s we can all help put them away when we get here.”

“I will.” She crossed the room again to let him out the door, her very own door, to her very own home and shop. “Good-bye.” She turned to find Henry right behind her, his eyes huge in his face. His lower lip quivered.

“What is it, son?” How she wished he would talk. Life with him would be so much easier.

A tear trembled on his lashes.

“Did you want to go with the sheriff?” He nodded. A light burst in her mind. The dog, of course, the dog. “Sam will come back with him. He couldn’t go to the church with us, you know.” How she hoped Caleb would leave his dog with her son just a few more days. Enough time to get him settled in this new place. Come spring, perhaps someone would have a puppy to give away.

He brushed the tear away and heaved a sigh of obvious relief. Then, taking her hand, he joined her in her exploration of their home.

Together they opened cupboard doors and pulled out drawers. They located the door to the basement and decided not to go down there until they had a lamp. While the house was lit with gas lights, she wasn’t even sure how to operate them, let alone find one in the dark. Up the narrow stairs to the second floor she threw open the door to a room under the eaves.

“This will be your room, Henry. See, your own bed, and look out the window. You’ll be able to watch the horse and our cow, when we get one, out in the field.” She plopped down on the bed. “What do you think?”

Henry stood at the window, then turned with a smile on his face. With a deep sigh, he ran and threw himself into her lap, burying his face in her skirts.

Johanna stroked his head. “I know, son, I know. We can both feel safe here.” She lifted his chin and kissed his forehead. “Come, let’s see the rest.”

They’d only gotten as far as the workroom when the bell tinkled in the shop.

“Mrs. Carlson?” A woman’s voice, one Johanna didn’t recognize, called.

“Ja, I am here.” She dusted off her hands and pushed the curtain aside to greet her guest. “Mrs. Moen, what a nice surprise.”

“I was afraid you might not be here yet, but we brought a few things to help you set up housekeeping.” She opened the door and called, “Come on in!”

Within minutes the room was full of Moens, each bearing a gift of some kind, a nine-patch quilt, some canned fruit, a loaf of bread, butter in a butter mold, a braided rug rolled under Mary’s arm, and finally Reverend Moen entered carrying a rocking chair.

“Where’s Angel?” Mary asked.

Johanna turned to the girl. “Mrs. Norgaard is keeping her.”

“Oh.” The girl’s face fell. “I was hoping to hold her.”

“Where do you want me to put this?” asked John Moen.

“In here by the fire,” Ingeborg answered, motioning him into the kitchen. She found places for each of their offerings and kept on being the shepherd as the wagon pulled up from the mansion. The children helped bring in the boxes and, as soon as Clara made it through the door, she began putting food in the pie safe out on the back porch, dishes on the cupboard shelves, and handed Henry the broom.

“That goes out on the back porch, I imagine.” When Dag brought in a rather large box, she showed him the stairway going up. “That’s linens so we can make the beds.”

Johanna had never felt so loved and useless in her life. Here were her friends doing all the things she should be doing and that would take hours. They were finished before sundown.

“Now, isn’t this just the nicest?” Ingeborg Moen clasped her hands and gazed around the kitchen. A teakettle now steamed on the stove and the braided rug lay in front of the sink that sprouted a red pump on the left. A red geranium with a white eye graced the kitchen window sill and two dishtowels hung on the rack on the side of the cupboard. Henry sat in the rocker with Sam at his feet and one of the Moen children kept the chair moving.