RR05 - Tender Mercies (29 page)

“Stayed up too late, that’s why.” Ingeborg handed over her wooden spoon. “The mush is about ready, the ham is fried, so all that’s left is the eggs. Come, baby, let’s go back upstairs and get you dressed.”

“Pesents today?” Astrid laid her head against her mother’s collar. “Tholiff, Andew say so.”

“Later, after church.” Ingeborg turned back to Bridget. “Is Ilse getting dressed? Good. The geese are ready to go in the oven, and I thought she could start peeling the potatoes. It takes a lot to make mashed for as many as we have coming.”

Even though everyone would bring food, Ingeborg knew every person there would eat way beyond his fill. She thought of all the krumkakar, fattigmann, and sandbakkels they’d made. Bridget had rolled enough lefse to feed an army, but Ingeborg knew it would all disappear.

Without the heavy child on her hip, she might have skipped up the stairs. All the family would be there, even Solveig and George were coming with their little one and Sarah Neswig, another immigrant who came with Bridget. It had been nearly a year since they’d seen her, because Ingeborg and Kaaren no longer supplied chickens, cheese, meats, and garden produce to the Bonanza farm or the St. Andrew Mercantile. With the coming of the railroad, they could hardly keep Penny’s store supplied.

She washed Astrid’s hands and face and helped her into her new dress. Thanks to Bridget and her nimble needle, it had been finished, but no thanks to the new sewing machine that never arrived. Penny had apologized for the Singer Company, saying they had so many orders they could not keep up, and it would be several weeks before hers would be delivered.

She’d been so looking forward to using it to make Christmas presents.

“Now let’s braid your hair, and you will look cute as a bug.”

“What bug?” Astrid looked around the room. Before the frost got them, she’d hunted up every bug she could find and brought them to her mother. Astrid liked bugs. Even spiders.

“An Astrid bug, that’s what.”

“Astid bug.” She giggled and clapped her hands.

“How about cute as a button?”

Astrid pointed to the buttons on the front of her dress. Bright red, they made her so happy she petted them like she would a kitten. “Astid like buttons.”

“Astrid, you sweetheart, you like most anything.” Ingeborg picked her up again and nuzzled her neck, making the little girl giggle.

“Moe.”

Ingeborg complied and the giggles turned to chortles of glee. Astrid put a palm on either side of her mother’s face. “Astid love Mo.”

“And Mor loves Astrid.” She kissed the child’s cheek and laid hers against the same spot. “Come. I hear Far coming in. Breakfast is ready.”

“Fa, Pa, Pa, Fa. Mo, Ma, Ma, Mo.” She leaned back and looked her mother in the eye. “You gots two names, Mo and Ma, huh?”

“That’s right.” Ingeborg leaned back against the child’s shift in weight. “Here, you better walk down the stairs yourself, or we’ll both be rolling down together.” She turned and set her child on the top step. “Now be careful.”

“Astid caeful.”

You’re also the most accomplished mimic I’ve heard in a long time
. With Astrid behind, they stepped on down to the warmth of the kitchen.

The children sang their song again at church that morning, and after that it seemed as though most of Blessing made their way to the Haakan Bjorklund home.

Thorliff, Hamre, and Baptiste were kept busy for a time leading visiting teams into the barns and tossing them a forkful of hay. All the sleighs lined up reminded Ingeborg of the old country.

“Make sure you don’t slight these two,” Hjelmer teased, stopping his team beside Thorliff.

“Oh, I won’t.” Thorliff tried to keep his eyes off the black man who rode with his aunt and uncle.

“Have you met my friend Sam yet?” Hjelmer asked.

“No, sir.” Thorliff unhooked the traces and latched them onto the rump pad.

“Sam worked with me on the railroad, and he and I and a couple of others shared a house in St. Paul for a time. He’s come to help me out at the blacksmith. Wait until you see the carving he does. Helped keep us from starving by selling some of it.”

“Did you bring some?” Thorliff asked.

“Yes, suh, but it’s fo yo mama fo invitin’ me.”

Thorliff looked up at his uncle Hjelmer, then at Sam. “Baptiste carves good too. He’ll like talking with you, Mister-I don’t know your last name.”

“You kin call me Sam.”

“All right, Mister Sam. Merry Christmas. Oh, you have any children?”

Sam nodded. “A boy, Lemuel, ’bout yo age.”

“Good. He can come to our school and—"

“He’s not here. He’s back home.”

“Oh.” Thorliff shrugged. “When he comes then. You all go right on in.” He led the horses off to the warmth of the barn.

Penny stuck her hand in the crook of Hjelmer’s elbow. “That is one fine boy, our nephew.”

“You said that right.” Sam lifted their baskets from the back of the sleigh and handed one to Ephraim. “He evah seen a black man befo?”

“Maybe on the ship or in New York, but he was only five. He just has a heart for strangers and wants everyone to be as happy as he is.” Hjelmer patted Penny’s gloved hand. “Though, far as Thorliff ’s concerned, there isn’t a stranger anywhere.”

Conversation only slowed a mite when the four walked in, and within minutes Haakan was taking Sam around and introducing him to all the relatives.

“How come his skin is black?” Ellie whispered to Andrew, loud enough to be heard back at the church.

“I don’t know.” Andrew motioned her to shush.

Sam hunkered down where the children sat on the bottom stairs so they wouldn’t miss anything. “God made you with yellah hair, right.” Ellie nodded, her eyes round as teacups. “He made me with dark skin. That’s all. He just made us all a little different.”

“Oh.” She thought a minute. “In the summer do you get sunburned?”

“Yep, ah do. But ah don’t turn red like you do.”

“Oh.” She reached out a tentative finger, and he held out the back of his hand for her to touch him.

“I got a little girl too, but she’s growin’ so fast, I bettah git her out here befoe she’s too big for school.”

“Does she have black skin too?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. I like you.” Ellie looked at Andrew. “Want to play Hide the Thimble?” The two turned and raced up the stairs, laughing and calling for the others.

“Thank you, Mister Sam,” Ingeborg said with a smile. “Please forgive their curiosity.”

“It’s just Sam, ma-am. Ah don’t go by no mister.”

Ingeborg smiled. “You might have to here, especially with the children. Mister is only polite, and so they will call you Mister Sam, unless you want to use your last name.”

“I like the sound of that, thank you.” He dug in his pocket and handed her a cloth-wrapped piece. “This is fo inviting a stranger to yo home for Christmas.”

“The Bible says to entertain strangers, for thereby we might know angels unawares.”

Sam laughed, the skin crinkling around his eyes. “Well, ah sure enough not an angel, but I am beholden to you.”

Ingeborg unwrapped the gift and held up a carved Canada goose, neck arched for grazing. “Oh, how beautiful. I love to watch the geese. You couldn’t have chosen anything more perfect.”

“She likes to shoot them and bring them home on a travois too.” Haakan stopped at her side. “That’s what we’re having for dinner.” He touched the feather detail in the wings. “You are a master.”

“No, suh, just a man with a lot a time on his hands.”

“You most likely won’t find much time for carving here. You can go to work with me on the sawmill any time Hjelmer doesn’t need you in the smithy.” The men moved off to talk among themselves, out of the way of the bustle in the kitchen.

“I think that’s everything then,” Ingeborg said, looking over the array of food.

“Looks to me like there’s enough to feed the Norwegian army,” Bridget said with a shake of her head. “Anyone goes home hungry, it’s their own fault, for sure.”

After Pastor Solberg said the blessing, the guests lined up with plates and helped themselves. Ingeborg had wanted everyone to sit down at a table, but since that would have had to be done in shifts, she bowed to the inevitable. Just having everyone in one place was treat enough. What a large family they had become.

After everyone was finished eating and the dishes done, they all packed into the parlor, where the tree Haakan and Lars had brought back from Minnesota shimmered in the corner. Very carefully, Haakan and Lars lit the candles that were clamped to the larger branches.

“Oh, pitty.” Astrid and Sophie clapped their hands. Grace stared up at the tree, entranced. Ever since they’d arrived, Kaaren had been trying to keep Trygve from chewing on the branches.

Kaaren began and everyone joined in singing the Norwegian words with cheer. “ ‘Oh, Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, how lovely are thy branches. . . . ’ ” When they finished, she stood and, taking the twins by the hands, led them to stand directly in front of the tree. “We have something we’d like to share with you.” She bent down and made a sign in front of Grace’s face. The little girl smiled and held up her hands. Sophie did the same. Together, the three made a series of signs.

“How lovely,” Penny said. “What does it mean?”

“We said . . .” Kaaren nodded to Sophie, who then signed with her, “Merry Christmas.”

When everyone applauded, Kaaren and her two curtsied, and, before sitting down, Kaaren took the sleeping Samuel back from his father.

“Pwesents now?” Astrid asked, giving everyone a chuckle.

“Come on, Thorliff, you can help me.” Hjelmer came to stand by the tree and beckoned to Thorliff, who was on his feet in the blink of an eye. Together they picked up presents, read the name tags, and Thorliff delivered them.

Each little girl got a new rag doll and the little boys a carved train engine. There were books and shirts, hats and mittens. Metiz had made each child a pair of rabbit skin mittens. Trygve kept his on and stopped playing with his train every once in a while to rub the soft fur across his cheek. Manda’s eyes shone at the hand-braided bridle Zeb had made for her, and Thorliff gazed at his stack of three books by Charles Dickens as though the minute he could begin reading couldn’t come too soon.

Such riches
, Ingeborg thought, remembering back to the early years when a peppermint stick was beyond her power to purchase.

Baptiste stood like he’d been struck when they handed him a new rifle.

“We thought since you’d been supplying all of us with game, we ought to make sure your gun was safe,” Haakan told him.

“Who . . . who do I thank?” Taller now than Ingeborg, the boy stroked the rifle stock.

“We all pitched in. There’s a box of shells under the tree too.” Haakan pointed to a square box toward the back. “We had to hide it to make sure Trygve over there didn’t chew on them.”

That brought a laugh from everyone.

Baptiste looked from face to face. “Thank you. Thank you very much. I will bring you more meat soon.”

“Here, take this to your bestemor.” Hjelmer handed Thorliff an envelope.

“What’s this?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Open it, so we can find out.”

She withdrew a sheet of parchment and handed it back to Thorliff. “You read it.”

“I . . . I think it says you now own an acre of land by Tante Penny’s store.”

“I do?” She snatched it back and studied the letters. “I wish I could read it.”

“Here, Mor.” Hjelmer stepped over children and around gifts. He read it aloud, and though it was said all legal-like, Thorliff had been right. The bottom was signed by Mr. and Mrs. Haakan Bjorklund.

Bridget cleared her throat once, and then again. “Mange takk.” She sniffed. “My boardinghouse. Land for my boardinghouse.”

“We’ll get it up as soon as the land dries out enough. I just wish we had started this fall.” Haakan sat back down next to Ingeborg, and the two exchanged smiles before another present was given out, this one to Pastor Solberg. He unwrapped the box to find a cream-colored cardigan sweater with a snowflake design in tones of black and gray.

And maybe if there had been a boardinghouse, that man wouldn’t have lost his life
, Ingeborg thought as she hugged Astrid, who was clutching her doll to her chest.
So easy to not make mistakes when looking back
. But then she had to remind herself that the man chose to smoke and drink before falling asleep. Thank God Ephraim had been off to the Johnsons, helping them, or he might have died too. She looked over at him, admiring the buckskin shirt Penny had asked Metiz to make for him. It was beautiful soft deerskin, with a fringe of quills and beads. She looked down at the beaded elk skin moccasins on her feet, also made by Metiz. With the hair on the inside, she knew her feet would stay warm.

Looking up, she saw Metiz watching her, so she smiled and pointed to her feet.

Metiz nodded and smiled back, patting her red wool blanket.

Who says we don’t
all
use sign language?

Pastor Solberg held up his sweater. “Bridget, I think I see your hand . . . er . . . knitting needles in this. How beautiful.” He stood and put it on right then, giving everyone a chance to clap.

“Looks right good on you, Pastor,” Zeb said from the corner he and Katy were squished into. The box beside her was filled with things for their coming baby: diapers, knitted sweater, hat, booties, soakers, and gowns. Her eyes glowed as she read the tag again, “From all of us,” and the names of all the women.

Ingeborg sat wishing she’d gotten her machine, because the coat she’d planned for Haakan still lay within the folds of the heavy wool material she had bought for that purpose. It lay in her trunk, awaiting the arrival of the machine. She would have started on it much earlier had she but known.

“I’m sorry, Haakan,” she said softly. “I planned on using my new sewing machine to make you a coat. If I’d known I had to wait so long, I’d have started your coat long ago. The material is folded up in my trunk.”

“No matter.” He held up his knitted knee-high socks and new gloves. “These are just what I needed. Now my others can go in the mending basket.”