A Harvest of Hope (22 page)

“Just get it done.”

She did so. He did not wince, but she did. She stepped back when she was through. “Most of those will probably leave scars.”

“I'd say right now, that's the least of my worries. How can I help you here at the hospital?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps they can use you to throw water out there. No. I take that back. Your arm might begin bleeding again. Do not use it for any heavy lifting whatsoever.”

The fellow nodded and hurried out.

Deborah MacCallister arrived, very much out of breath.

“What is happening out there? What is happening to Blessing?”

Astrid gathered up the bloody rags and tossed them into a corner. “The bank and post office are burning. Tent Town is lost. Most of the men are in the bucket lines, and now women and children are passing buckets also. They are dousing roofs and walls, trying to keep other buildings from catching on fire. So far the hospital here is all right. The burning debris from the elevator started little fires all over, but most are sheds and barns.”

“How about the houses?”

“We lost some. As if we needed more people without homes. Most were lucky, though. All that rain we've had recently soaked the shingles.”

“Excuse us, please. We be coming through.” The Irish brogue announced the speaker before Thomas Devlin could get through the door. He and three other men were struggling with a blanket that carried a wounded man. Everyone was wearing black smoke like an ugly mask.

“Over here.” Astrid beckoned him to the examination table. “What do we have?”

“A ladder collapsed and dumped this poor fellow. Sure and the
leg be broken and maybe more besides. He took a wicked fall.” They lifted the man onto the table. The three others hurried out.

A terrified woman with three equally frightened children huddled in the corner.

“His wife and children there. Arlen and Helen Nyland of Detroit. Came to Blessing where they heard there might be work.” He hesitated. “Their tent be gone.”

As they spoke, Astrid probed the leg. “The fibula is broken but apparently not the tibia. That's the shinbone. Excellent. We needn't worry about traction.”

Corabell hovered nearby. “Doctor, we're running low on ice, and there are four more burn casualties.” The door behind her opened. “Five.”

“Use ice until it runs out completely, then use clean cloths soaked in cool water.”

“Yes'm.” Corabell hurried off.

Astrid pressed around a knot on her patient's head. His eyes opened.

She smiled. “Oh good. You're back. Where do you hurt besides your leg?”

“Right arm and shoulder.”

“Ah, I see. Your shoulder is dislocated. The pain is going to be severe when we put it back in place, but then it should feel much better.” She turned to Father Devlin. “Have you ever helped reset a shoulder before?”

“Can't say that I have, but I be muckle fine at following instructions.”

“Good.” She showed him how to hold the arm, told him what to do, and got her hands in the right positions. “Three, two, one, now.” The shoulder slid back into place as their patient yelped. Father Devlin heaved a sigh of relief. The fellow wasn't going to be standing up soon with that leg, so she stabilized his arm with a swathe instead of a sling and turned her attention to the leg.

She motioned to Vera, who had just come back in. “We're going to set this broken leg temporarily and look at it more carefully tomorrow. I need splints and bandages. We'll ice it and see if we can get the swelling down before we cast it, assuming there is ice. No, save the ice for burns. We'll use cool cloths.”

Between Father Devlin, Astrid, and the two nurses, they set the leg, splinted it, and moved him to a bed in the other private room with his leg lined with cool rags. His wife and children settled on thin pallets on the floor by his bed. The children instantly fell asleep.

There were more burn victims, mostly from Tent Town. And more lacerations from imploding windows. They were seeing mostly women and children, and Astrid belatedly realized why. Their men were out in the streets helping fight the fires.

Astrid looked at the clock. Six forty five. What was happening out there? She had to know.

She walked through the hospital, her hospital. The glass had been cleaned up at the end of the hall and in the room where Mrs. Bach was now sleeping soundly. In the first ward, the glass was gone and the beds were cleaned and remade. One of the children who had severe burns was sleeping in one bed along with her mother. Two other children shared a pallet on the floor. She made her way up the stairs and out onto the roof.

The sky was starting to pink up in the east.

“Hello, Astrid, or should I say Dr. Bjorklund?”

“You know what, Toby Valders, I don't care what you call me, but how come you are up here?”

“Daniel asked me to check one more time for any hot spots. I've got a couple extra buckets of water up here just in case, but these are all cold now. We'll have to patch it and pray for no rain, or you'll have leaks for sure.”

“Leaks we can deal with. Fire, no. I hear we can bless the rain
for so few buildings going up. I was afraid for a while we'd lose the whole town.”

“We came mighty close. We saved the boardinghouse, Penny's store, Garrisons', and the soda shop. Steeper roofs made raking burning material off them easier, and the rain had soaked the shingles. We ought to build steep roofs on all the houses. Good thing we had metal roofs on the machinery plant and the flour mill. Almost lost that anyway. Had the flour mill been running, it would have gone up for sure.”

“So I have a home to return to?”

“You do, but I'm sure Mrs. Jeffers has taken in a family or two.”

“Good for her. How bad is the boardinghouse?”

“The new section is damaged the worst. We'll have to re-side the whole east wall and replace some studs. Repair those upper three rooms. The bottom three have smoke and water damage, I think. As far as we can tell, the night watchman who cleans the elevator is our only person missing, but of course there may well be more. If he was working in there, he's likely gone.”

“Thank you for checking our roof.”

“Welcome.”

The pink was brightening into salmon.

Astrid went back downstairs. The ward lights were dimmed so people could sleep. Miriam, Deborah, and Vera were tidying up the second examination room.

She hoped she did not appear as weary as these three did. “Miriam, Vera, since it looks like things have settled down, you have a choice. Return to your rooms, if they are livable, or sleep in one of the spare beds here. Who is on duty?”

“There are no spare beds, ma'am.” Miriam licked her lips. “Corabell's on duty. She's checking on patients now.”

“Where are Gray Cloud and Dawn Breaking?”

“Cleaning up the operating room again. We had to do some more suturing.”

“Was any kind of charting kept?”

“I wrote down a list of those we treated, but that was all the farther I got. I think I got them all, but I'm not certain. They came in so quickly.” Miriam dropped the mop into its bucket.

“I'd say that was doing well. And to think we worked out emergency procedures just a couple days ago.” Astrid debated, go home or remain here longer just in case?

“Look, I had yesterday off,” Deborah said, “so why don't you go home and get some sleep. If we need you, we'll call.”

“No you won't. The telephone company burned down.”

“Fine. Then I will send someone to get you.”

“Send Gray Cloud and Dawn Breaking home too, as soon as they are finished.”

“I'll stay too,” Miriam said. “I'm on day shift today.”

Astrid nodded. “Thank you.” Was Mrs. Geddick in the kitchen? If so, she must thank her on the way out. She stopped at the kitchen.

Mrs. Geddick was stirring a huge stock pot of oatmeal. And who was that slumped over in a chair by the kneading table? Astrid stepped into the kitchen.

Mrs. Geddick turned. Astrid motioned toward the stranger.

Mrs. Geddick waved an arm. “Mr. Huslig, this is Dr. Bjorklund. Doctor, Garn Huslig is the new owner of the grain elevator.”

“Oh!” No wonder he looked so utterly crushed.

He grimaced. “Dr. Bjorklund,” he said and started to rise.

She sat down in the chair beside his, so he sank back. She remembered seeing him here and there around town. He was usually a bouncing, jovial fellow, always ready with a smile. This man beside her looked haggard and drawn, totally defeated.

“I heard that one of your employees is missing. I'm so sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, I know where he is.” The man's voice was flat. “Oh yes, I know. So many times I warned him, ‘Never smoke your pipe
in the elevator or anywhere near it. The dust will explode and burn. Grain dust is flammable. Never do it.' And I would catch him with his pipe out anyway. He was a fine worker, but he had great trouble remembering. I'm sure that tonight he finished his chores, swept up the floor, then sat down to smoke his pipe. He is there somewhere, under all the rubble and the twisted metal. Yes, I know where he is.”

What could she say? Nothing. He stared at nothing, a half-empty mug of coffee by his hands.

She laid her hand on his arm, and he did not seem to notice, so she stood up to go home.

“Miriam!” The voice was calling frantically.
“Miriam!”

Miriam ran to the hospital window, the blown-out empty window frame. “Trygve?” she leaned out to see better. The fire was still burning in the elevator next door, and men were still running about in the streets.

“Miriam!” Trygve came racing around the corner so wildly his feet nearly slipped out from under him. He staggered, regained his balance, and dashed to her window. “Oh, thank God! Thank God!” He reached up to her with both arms.

She reached down to him. He grasped her hands, nearly pulling her out the window as he pressed them to his cheeks, his lips. He must have been running a long way. He was gasping for breath.

“Trygve?”

“They said . . . Thank God it was only a rumor! I heard you were caught by the blast at that end of the hall, you and another nurse. Oh, thank God it was a false rumor!”

Her hands squeezed his. “And thank God you are all right!” Her mind, her emotions were playing tricks on her. She felt something huge and overwhelming but could not identify it. “Trygve, we are all safe here. We're treating many injured but
are safe.” For the first time, she studied his eyes carefully and looked at them without embarrassment or the desire to look away. She gazed into his eyes, and he was gazing into hers. They were wonderful eyes, and there was so much pain in them.

She stammered a little. “I have to get back. So many injured . . .”

He gave her hands a final squeeze and released them. “I love you, Miriam.” He turned away even as she was backing up, standing up straight.

What had just happened? Her mind swirled so giddily she leaned for a moment against the window frame, her hand pressed to her sternum. But she had responsibilities, duties. She was needed now. She hurried back to her work.