The Brushstroke Legacy (10 page)

This is no longer your concern
, she reminded herself, though she’d been awake half the night thinking of reasons not to go. They’d only been waiting by the door for a few minutes before the man with the buggy knocked to take them to the station. Relief poured through her when none of the family roused. She didn’t want to go through goodbyes again.

Traveling west at such amazing speeds, seeing farmlands, woods, cities, and meeting interesting people would have been far more enjoyable if
Eloise felt better. And if apprehension weren’t creating a hollow in her middle that the Mississippi River could have flowed through. Nilda rarely second-guessed her decisions, knowing that she prayed beforehand and expected God to live up to His promises for safety and guidance.

Why were things so different this time?

She listed the ways.
The distance.
There was no going back, even though she’d been told she could come back.
She’d never met the man.
That loomed large as a mountain at night when she couldn’t sleep for rocking Eloise, trying to keep her from coughing. On top of it, the farther west they rode, the further away God seemed. Her prayers grew more desperate, pleading for a sense of comfort, for an awareness that He heard her. She repeated Bible verses she learned as a child, in Norwegian, even though she rarely spoke the language of her homeland any longer. “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” She said that one over and over through the hours of darkness. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” She greeted the dawn with that one.

The extra money that the master had given her went for food after their supplies ran out; just another thing to worry about, she who prided herself on not worrying.
Lord God, have I done the right thing? Where are You? You said You would hide us under Your wings. Can You see us on this train heading west, or did You stay in New York?

Relief warred with fear when she heard the conductor announce that Medora would be the next stop. She gathered up their things and packed everything back in her carpetbag before washing Eloise’s face with spit on a cloth, combing her hair, and rebraiding it.

“You must look your best to meet Mr. Peterson.”

Eloise shivered. “Are we going home?”

“No, we won’t go back home; this will be our new home.” So many times in their traveling days, they’d had this discussion, with Eloise too tired and weak to even enjoy watching the world race by.

Eloise laid her head against her mother’s chest. “Tired.”

“Ja, I know.” Nilda smoothed her daughters hair and kissed her forehead. “But tonight ve vill sleep at our new house, on a farm.” Since Norwegian was her mother tongue, her accent deepened with her anxiety as they neared their destination. She couldn’t help it.

“Medora.” The conductor stopped beside her. “Will you need help getting off the train?”

“Ja, I tink so.” Carrying both Eloise and their bags would be more than she could manage.
“Mange takk
, ja, thank you.”
Speak English! Stand up straight! Put a smile on your face!
Her orders to herself helped her hold her daughter securely and manage the steps as she left the train. She smiled at the conductor as he offered his arm to help her down.

“I set your bags right over there.” He pointed to the small mound on the platform. “Your trunk will be off shortly.”

“Ja, ma—thank you.” Her knees felt weak as mashed potatoes now that they were no longer on the swaying train. A man brought her trunk over and set it with the other things.

“There you go, ma’am.” He tipped his hat at her.

“All aboard!”

She’d heard that call so often on the journey. Now all she wanted to do was get back on the train and head on west. Or wait until the eastbound train came through and board that.

“Ma?”

“Ja, little one?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“I have some water in our bag. As soon as…” Where was Mr. Peterson? He said he’d be here to meet them. With screeching wheels and a roar of steam, the train edged out of the station. In the distance she could see a plume of dust along the ribbon of brown that cut across a green field. Galloping horses pulling a wagon eased to a stop before crossing the tracks. When the driver stepped from the wagon, he settled a fedora hat securely on his head and strode toward her. Seeing his black hair and wild beard, she thought of the trolls of her childhood. Not that he was ugly, but he was so big—he seemed to be ten feet tall.

She glanced down at the child standing beside her. Eloise, her eyes round as saucers, turned and reached her arms to be picked up, then buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.

“Mrs. Torkalson?” The voice was deep, coming from a chest that strained the buttons on a worn shirt that hadn’t gotten acquainted with a washtub in some time.

“Ja.”

“I am Joseph Peterson.” He dashed the hat from his head and crushed it to his chest.

“I am pleased to meet you.” Was being polite akin to lying? If only her knees would stiffen, she might be able to hold herself and her daughter up.

“Your things?” he asked, pointing to her trunk.

“Ja.”

“Good. We go.”

She felt a trickle of warm fluid over the arm holding Eloise. The child had wet herself. The man was big enough and gruff enough to scare an adult, let alone a shy little girl. What had she gotten them into?
Lord, don’t You live in North Dakota?

“We need to take everything out of the car so we have room for the supplies.”

“Store it in the house? What if mice get into it?” Erika’s voice held an edge of hysteria.

“Not during the day they won’t.” Ragni hoped she sounded more knowledgeable than she felt. There had been enough mice droppings in the kitchen to fertilize a large garden.

While Erika grumbled under her breath, she began unloading the car. “If a mouse gets into my sleeping bag…”

“Put your things in the tent along with mine. With it zipped, critters can’t get in.”

“What if someone steals our stuff?”

“How much traffic have you seen go by?”

“It only takes one.”

“Now you sound like your mother.”

Erika glared at her and carried the final box into the house.

Ragni checked her purse to make sure she had the list along. Even though they had heated river water and washed up earlier, the
thought of a shower made her skin sigh. No, they could tough it out one more night—then the motel and showers.

They met Paul in his truck before they got to the turnout to his place. He waved them to a stop and leaned out his window.

“I just came to ask if you needed real food by now and if you would like to come for supper tonight.”

“Why, how nice.” Ragni glanced over at Erika who shrugged. “Thanks, what time?”

“Oh, come anytime, sixish. Got something brand-new to show you, if you like horses, that is.”

Ragni could feel Erika’s interest liven up the car like an electrical current. “What can we bring? We’re on our way to town.”

“Medora?”

“No, Dickinson. We need real supplies.”

He thought a moment. “Nothing. I think we’re fine. Have a good one.” He nodded and, looking over his right shoulder, backed the truck until he could turn into his driveway. The beep of the truck horn was as good as a wave.

“Wonder what the new thing is?” Ragni asked not really expecting an answer.

“Everything is new when you’ve not seen it before.”

“Good point.” She flashed Erika a smile. At least she’d not disappeared into her iPod already.

Up ahead, dirty white cows grazed along the road, so she slowed down.

“You think those belong to Paul?”

“Mr. Heidelborg.”

“Oh, for…” Erika threw her a look black enough to match the cows’ legs. She shook her head. “Whatever.” But when they drew near the pond—it looked more like a large mud hole—that Ragni had noticed on the way down, Erika gasped. “Look, that little calf is stuck.”

Ragni eased her foot from the accelerator to slow the car down. The calf bawling and the cow nudging it confirmed her niece’s assessment.

“We have to help it.” Erika opened her car door before Ragni came to a full stop.

Ragni hit the brakes. “Be careful, that cow doesn’t know you.”

But Erika leaped from the car and pushed her way through the weeds on her way to offer assistance.

“Easy, girl, let us help you.” Her crooning voice, meant to calm the situation, met a mother who had no intentions of letting anyone touch her baby. The cow let out a bellow and headed toward Erika, muddy water flying in all directions.

“Erika, get back here.” Ragni yelled loud enough to be heard in Medora.

“But the calf…”

“It’ll be fine for now. We’ll go get Paul.”

As soon as the girl retreated, the cow returned to her calf. Erika jumped back into the car. “If our cell phones worked, we could call him.”

“If we had his phone number.” Ragni jockeyed back and forth to get the car turned around in the middle of the gravel road.

“Hurry.”

Ragni hurried as much as the curvy road allowed. She roared up the driveway, grateful to see Paul’s truck in front of a log house that had been added on to several times. Erika bailed out as soon as the car
stopped and pushed through the gate to head for the porch and the door. She stopped at the barking of a mottled gray and black cattle dog that didn’t bother to leave the porch.

“Okay, Paunch, that’s enough.” The dog wriggled all over as Paul, obviously recognizing trouble, came through the door in a rush. “Erika, what’s wrong?”

“A calf is stuck in that muddy pond up the road.” She pointed back the way they had come. “The cow chased me off.”

“Pond? What pond?” Paul’s eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead.

“You know the one up the road, where all the cows are standing?”

“Oh, you mean the watering hole. Thanks for coming back to tell me.” He headed for his pickup. “Let’s go, Paunch.” He waved the dog into the cab and followed right behind. “I’ll meet you up there.”

Erika slammed the car door, latching her seat belt in a smooth motion. They followed the truck, eating dust all the way. “The calf could drown by now. Stupid cow wouldn’t let me help her.”

So this is what it takes to get you excited?
Ragni swallowed her words and just drove. She parked behind Paul’s truck on the shoulder, more than a little concerned about getting stuck herself. She didn’t have four-wheel drive like he did.

Paunch leaped from the cab and headed for the watering hole with Paul, rope in hand, right behind him.

The muddy calf stood head down, nose grazing the top of the water, sides heaving from his efforts to break loose. Paul stopped at the edge of the muck and signaled Paunch to circle the cow.

The calf struggled again, and his front legs buckled. The cow headed for the dog, head down, murder in her eyes.

Erika and Ragni stopped behind Paul.

“What can we do?”

Paul nodded toward the cow. “If Paunch can get her away from the water and hold her back, I’m going to wade in and pull the calf out. If I have to put a rope on him, you two can pull on this end, and I’ll try to heave him loose. But if that cow comes at you, drop the rope and run. She means business.”

Keeping an eye on the cow, Ragni watched as Paul sloshed his way to the calf. The barking dog and the bellowing cow almost drowned out the sound of her own pounding heart but not quite.

The other cattle scattered at the ruckus going on, but the mama had no intention of leaving and fewer intentions of letting anyone near her calf. She tried dodging the dog, but Paunch nipped her on the nose and drove her back.

“Here, catch.” Paul threw the coiled rope and Erika caught it. “Okay, pull easy now, steady.” He reached around the calf’s chest and back legs and pulled. The sucking sound made Ragni smile. The calf reared back and caught Paul under the chin with the top of its flailing head. He grunted and jerked back.

“Hang on,” Ragni said, as much to herself as to Erika behind her. She and Erika backed up, keeping the tension on the rope while watching for the cow, which was now running back and forth along the edge of the watering hole with Paunch staying between her and the rescuers.

Paul hefted the calf again and pulled it free, but then the calf staggered and its head went under the surface.

“Pull.” He waved an arm.

They did, and dragged the calf to the shallows.

“Okay.” Paul sloshed after the calf, grabbed the rope looped around its neck, and ordered, “Give me some slack.”

When they loosened the rope, he slid the loop off the calf and stood back. The muddy creature struggled to its feet, staggered to solid ground, and stood straddle-legged, head down.

“Is it all right?” Erika asked.

“It will be. Let’s get out of the way and let Mama have her baby back.”

Once they’d moved closer to the vehicles, Paul whistled and Paunch came racing toward them. “Good dog.”

The cow glared at them, inspected her calf, and shook her head before walking off toward the remainder of the herd.

“And thank you to you too,” Paul called. “Keep your baby out of the water after this.” He turned to his helpers. “You probably saved that calf’s life, so I thank you more than she does.” As he talked, he looped the rope over his other hand. “Looks like we need a hosing down, dog.”

Paunch sat at his feet, tongue lolling and his rear end wriggling in delight. He whined but never took his gaze off Paul. Paul leaned down and thumped the dog on the ribs. “Good dog. Thought she was going to get you there for a minute, but you showed her who was boss.”

Ragni sucked in a deep breath of relief and regretted it immediately. The mud not only looked bad, it smelled worse. She looked down at her mud-spattered shoes and the bottoms of her jeans. At least she hadn’t worn her khakis. White canvas tennis shoes and mud didn’t mesh well. Erika’s boots came through in far better shape.

“Sorry for the mud bath. You’re welcome to wash off at the house.”

“Thanks, but if we want to get back at a reasonable hour, we’ll wash off at a gas station.”

His smile made her swallow. “Well, thanks again. I owe you one.”

“These are your cattle?” Erika asked.

“Right. We have open range around here, so they may not all be mine, but not a lot of the ranchers raise Charolais like I do. That’s the all white breed you see. The colored ones with white faces belong to a rancher over the hill. He has mostly crossbreds.”

“I see.”
Like heck I do. But he sure has a voice that’s easy to listen to.
“We’ll see you later then.”

“In the back, Paunch.” He let down the tailgate so the dog could leap in, then slammed it in place. “See you.”

“Bye.” Ragni started her car and fastened her seat belt, waiting until he pulled out.

“You think he has a wife and kids?”

Ragni glanced over at her passenger. “How would I know?”

“Remember he said ‘we.’ Guess we’ll find out tonight, huh?”

“Guess so.”
Wouldn’t he have said my wife and family if he had one? So why am I hoping he’s not married?

“That calf sure was cute.”

“His mama thought so too. Hoo boy, she wanted to stomp us right into the mud.”

“I’ve read about how protective animals can be, but I didn’t think it would be like that. She was big!” Erika’s eyes grew rounder.

“If your mother knew you’d been fighting off a mad cow, she’d have a cow.”

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“Deal. She’d have my head—be worse’n that cow.” Ragni chuckled, pleased to hear a giggle from her passenger.

As they crested the last hill before Medora, Ragni wished she could stop and take a photograph. “Add one of those disposable cameras to our list, will you please?” Across the valley a two-story red house with the green metal roof made her itch for a brush and canvas. At least if she took a picture, she could paint if after she got back home.
Yeah, right! In my spare time!
Here she certainly didn’t have any painting time, let alone the proper supplies.

Even after they stopped at a truck stop in Dickinson and scrubbed, they weren’t clean.

“You think we could use their showers?” Erika asked.

“The sign said only for truckers.”

“So how would they know we aren’t truckers?”

“Somehow we don’t look the part.”

Erika leaned into the mirror and studied a bump on her right cheek. “Think I’ll get a stud in my nose.”

Ragni caught the quick look her way.
Over my dead body
“You want McDonald’s for lunch or a real restaurant? Or we could eat here.”

Erika shrugged. “Whatever.”

Keep a lid on it, Ragni, she’s just trying to find your hot buttons.
“Then here it is.” She slung her purse strap over her shoulder and exited the rest room.