Dakota December and Dakota Destiny (14 page)

Johanna sighed. What was it she would be telling him?

The clacking of the rails lulled Angel to sleep.

“She’s getting to be a busy one, isn’t she?” Gudrun asked from the seat across the private room. She had insisted on such accommodations, saying that Angel needed space to play on the floor or her mother would be exhausted by the time they reached Wisconsin. And so would she. If only she could nod off so easily, Johanna thought wistfully. The last few days had been a nightmare what with trying to finish the existing orders, not take any new ones, and mop up after the puppy, now dubbed Samson. The frisky fellow still hadn’t quite got the hang of asking to go out. She knew it wasn’t Henry’s fault. He kept Samson outside with him much of the day. They had claimed a corner of the garden Frank dug up and were busy digging a hole. No matter how hard she tried to convince the boy that until the puppy was housebroken, he had to sleep on the back porch, she would find the pup, snuggled right under Henry’s arm, on her son’s bed.

She smiled when she remembered the horrified look on Mrs. Hanson’s face when they arrived, puppy in tow. But right away she’d fixed a box behind the kitchen stove. Johanna was willing to bet that Henry would be found sleeping back there or the puppy would end up in his bed every night they were there.

She looked over at Gudrun whose head was bobbing drowsily. “Why don’t you lie down on the seat and let me cover you with the quilt?” she whispered so as not to disturb Angel.

The old woman blinked awake. She covered a yawn with her gloved hand. “I think I will at that. I’d forgotten how lulling a train ride can be.

Johanna reached up into the overhead compartment for a pillow to go along with the quilt. They had brought their own when Mrs. Hanson had a fit at the thought of her friends using those provided by the train. After all, who knew who had used them last?

When the old woman was settled, Johanna wrapped the other quilt around her shoulders and lay down herself. Better to sleep while, and if, she could. Who knew how well Angel would be behaving by nightfall?

They changed trains in Fargo and then again in St. Paul. They were due to arrive at Hammerville, Wisconsin, before first light. Every clack of the wheels reminded Johanna of the trip she’d made west in December, the weeks of running, always fearful of Raymond tracking them. She shuddered at the thought. Her, big as a house, and Henry plastered against her side, terrified of every sound.

Johanna had all their things repacked and ready at the door when the conductor announced their stop as one after the next. Angel still lay asleep. Johanna thanked the Lord for the favor and repinned her hat in place.

Dawn had only cracked the dark when they stepped onto the station platform. Johanna looked around, feeling as if she had stepped into a different world. She’d come here once with the wagon to pick up machinery that Raymond had ordered but was too busy to pick up. After the train pulled out, she could hear a dog bark in the distance and the familiar crowing of a rooster.

Hammerville, what would they find here? Even the sound of the name brought back painful memories.

“I believe we will go to the hotel first, if we can get the station master to carry our things.” Gudrun looked around and started toward the lighted window in the station building. “Then we can have breakfast there, leave our things in the rooms, and order a buggy for the trip to the farm. How long did you say it would take?”

“About an hour, depends on the roads.”

“Good, we should be there by noon, easily.” She crossed the platform, her heels clicking on the worn boards. Before Johanna had time to disagree, if she had the nerve, they were ensconced in a large room with two beds at the hotel and the maid had gone to find a crib, in spite of the mother’s disagreement. Even she could tell that what Gudrun said was law.

After Angel nursed and fell back asleep Johanna crawled under the covers and stretched out. While her body loved the warmth and settled in, her mind went winging across the land. What would they find when they reached the farm? Had Raymond divorced her? Would he attack in a rage because she had left? What would she do?

Father in heaven, I am counting on You,
she prayed fervently.
You brought us this far, You must have a plan. You took care of the Israelites crossing the desert and protected Your people from so many enemies. Please guard us now. Amen.
And then a fussing Angel woke her up.

Her mouth grew drier the closer they got to the farm. She recognized the house of their neighbors, knowing that their fence line was half a mile away, the house and barns half a mile beyond that.

“Are you all right?” Gudrun asked, looking over the head of the child she held on her lap.

“Ja, I will be.” Johanna clucked the horse to a faster trot. All within her wanted to turn the buggy around and head back for town and the train west. She slowed and guided the horse left into the long driveway.

Funny, the front fields weren’t plowed yet. Had they had such a nasty spring that Raymond couldn’t get out in the fields? Perhaps he was plowing the back section first. She pulled the horse to a stop and looked around before driving up to the house.

There were no cows in the pasture, no dog barking in greeting. Indeed the house wore the look of no one home. No smoke arose from the chimney, and the gate to the yard was hanging open.

She turned to look at Gudrun who raised her shoulders in question. Where had he gone? She pulled the horse to a stop at the gate and, after wrapping the reins around the whip stock, stepped down. “You wait for me here.”

The door was locked. She peeked in the window. Everything looked the same, the red and white oilcloth on the table, four chairs pulled up to it. Then she noticed that the banking hadn’t been removed from around the foundation. Raymond always used the old straw and manure to cover the garden before he plowed it.

She shaded her eyes, looking across the fields. Nothing had been done.

When she climbed back in the buggy, she shook her head. “I don’t know,” she answered before Gudrun could ask the question. “Guess we’ll go back to the Tengsvolds and ask.” She turned the buggy around and clucked the horse forward. As soon as they reached the road, she flapped the reins, making the horse go into a trot.

Where had Raymond gone and when had he left?

“My land, look who’s here.” Mrs. Tengsvold threw open the door before Johanna could even knock. “Oh, my dear, I am so happy to see you. And you have someone with you?”

She waved and raised her voice. “Come in, come in. Dinner is nearly ready.”

Johanna thanked her and returned to the buggy for Angel and to help Mrs. Norgaard down. Together they walked back to the porch.

“And this is your baby? Isn’t she a wonder?” She reached out to take Gudrun’s hand as Johanna introduced them. “Oh, I am so glad you are all right. Why, we thought maybe you died in the snow last winter or . . .” All the while she talked she brought her guests in the house and helped remove their coats. “You just take a place at the table now and . . .”

“Mrs. Tengsvold, Elmira, what has happened to Raymond? The farm is vacant.” Johanna interrupted the woman’s chatter.

“I know. It was a sad thing.” She sank down on a chair and took Johanna’s free hand in hers. “Bjorn didn’t see the smoke in the chimney for a couple of mornings so he thought he better check on you folks. When he got there, the house was empty, so he checked the barn. We didn’t know what had happened to you of course.”

“Yes.”

“Well, he found your husband lying in the bull’s pen. He’d been gored and stomped to death. There was a big cut in the bull’s side but he was doing all right. Fair to dying for a drink of water though. With the broken pitchfork and all, we didn’t know if he were beating the bull off or what. I’m so sorry, we didn’t have any idea how to let you know. Bjorn said we would just have to wait. He brought the livestock over here. We was hoping you would come back sometime.” Her words finally ran out.

Johanna couldn’t find her voice. She knew she should feel sad but all she could think was
Thank You, God, thank You, thank You.
She shouldn’t be grateful for a man’s death, and a violent one at that. All this time she’d worried about him finding her. And he’d been dead. She buried her face in Angel’s neck, the tears starting in spite of her iron will.

“Now, now, I know the shock is hard to take.”

“Who’s the company?” Bjorn Tengsvold called from the backdoor. “Dinner ready yet?”

“In a minute.” Elmira bustled back to the stove after another pat on Johanna’s shoulder.

“Well, look who’s here! You are all right, I’m so glad.” A smile wreathed his face turned ruddy from hours in the sun. In few strides he crossed the room in his stocking feet, having left his dirty boots at the backdoor. He looked to his wife at the stove. “I see you told her.”

He dropped into the chair at the head of the table. “It was such a shock to us too. Nothing we could do but bury him when the ground thawed out enough.”

“Where?” Johanna wiped her eyes and jiggled Angel on her lap.

“In the cemetery behind the Lutheran church. I know you didn’t go much but I—we thought it best. We put a gravestone on it so’s you could find it, if’n you ever came back.”

The enormity of what had happened was more than she could take

“We locked up the house, brought your livestock over here. When I saw that old horse was gone, I had an idea what had happened.” He ducked his head. “We—ah—had an idea what had been going on, but you know Raymond. So privatelike, didn’t seem nothing we could do.”

“No, there wasn’t. I thank you for what you did.” So, he’d beaten the bull once too often. Ever since she’d raised the tiny calf when he planned to club it, he’d had it in for the animal. When it threw good calves the animal seemed to goad him even more. She could about picture what had happened. When Raymond found her gone, he took his anger and frustration out on the animal. But this time was the final straw.

When the two strapping Tengsvold sons came in, Elmira set the food on the table and, after grace, urged everyone to eat up. They peppered Johanna with questions about her life in Soldahl, how Henry was, if he were talking now.

“Landsakes, how’s she supposed to eat with all you badgering her?” Elmira’s voice strained to be heard.

“Sorry, sorry,” the boys said.

“You go ahead and eat while I ask you one more question.” Bjorn Tengsvold looked directly at Johanna. “Now if you want to come back and farm that piece, we’ll help you all we can, but if you want to sell it, Nils here is prepared to buy. He wants to get married and this will give him a starting place. We’ll take all the livestock, furniture, whatever you want to leave “

“I—I don’t know. This is all so sudden.” Johanna looked to Gudrun who barely nodded her head. Johanna sipped her coffee, her dinner forgotten in front of her. “I really need to go back over there.”

“Understandable. I’ll give you the key.”

“Could I give you my decision tomorrow?”

“Of course, of course, no need to rush. Just that those fields need to get worked up soon as possible if we want a crop off them this fall.”

“I know.” Angel chose that moment to whimper for her meal. “Could I use your bedroom to feed her?”

“Surely.” Elmira jumped to her feet. “Right this way. I’ll put your plate on to warm for you.”

Johanna sat in a chair by the window, alternating between looking out at the fields and down at her baby. Should she bring her children back here so Henry could eventually have his father’s farm, if he wanted it? Did she want to leave her cozy home and busy shop to live back out in the country, a mile away from the nearest neighbor? She could hear Gudrun visiting with the Tengsvolds. There were two things she knew she must do: return to the house and go to the cemetery. Everything else could wait.

With Elmira waving them on their way and Angel sound asleep in Gudrun’s lap, Johanna turned the buggy around and headed back to the silent farm.

The stale smell of the empty house assaulted her when she opened the door. She walked to the stove and thought about starting a fire to burn the smell away but she decided against it. Instead she walked to the bedroom where she had cowered so many times. Raymond’s pants still lay over the back of the chair, waiting for her to patch them. With a swift move, she jerked the quilt her mother had given her off the bed and folded it, picked up her Bible and her sewing basket, and returned to the kitchen. A quick look around confirmed what she already knew. There was nothing else she wanted.

“That’s all you want?” Gudrun asked when she returned to the buggy.

“Ja, that’s it. I hope young Tengsvold and his new wife will be far happier here than we were. It is good farmland. One thing to be said for Raymond, he took good care of the land and the livestock—except for the bull. Do you suppose one day I will have room in my heart to forgive him?”

“You mean your husband or the bull?”

“It was a hard way to die.” She unwound the reins and turned the horse around. “I warned him again and again not to treat the bull that way. Was this justice, do you think?”

“I can’t answer that. Where to now?”

“The Tengsvolds. I don’t want to come back here ever again.”

“Do you think Henry might want the farm someday? You could rent it to them, you know.”

“I thought of that but Henry has no good memories of this place either. Better that he not have to make a decision. I wonder what a farm goes for here now?” She clucked the horse into a trot.

After agreeing to meet Bjorn and his son at the bank in the morning, she and Gudrun headed back to town. The Lutheran church lay a couple of miles up the road, its cross-crowned steeple glinting above the trees.

Birds sang in the fenced-in cemetery and a butterfly flitted from the branches of the apple tree that grew by the gate. Bees hummed about their business in the blossoms. Johanna dismounted from the buggy and entered the grassy yard, looking at the headstones until she came upon a fairly fresh grave. There was no inscription, only his name and the year of death. She stared at it, waiting for some feeling of any kind to make itself known.
Ah, Raymond, we started our life together with such high hopes and look what it has come to.