A Harvest of Hope (24 page)

Read A Harvest of Hope Online

Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC027050, #FIC042030

BOOK: A Harvest of Hope
6.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I was never so happy to see anyone in my life as when your mother came in that door. Inga almost knocked her over with the force of her run-to-Grandma hug. Poor Inga woke up when the elevator blew up. She was so frightened.”

“I didn't even know Mor had been here. Thank God she wasn't out on one of the bucket lines.”

“Then Mrs. Jeffers came to check on me. One of them would run out and check the roof. Amelia went out with a shovel to throw a burning brand off the porch. Between them and Thelma, we didn't burn. They kept thanking God for the soaked roofs and the wet grass.”

“I feel so sorry for Mr. Huslig. Bought that grain elevator, and now he has nothing. All because of his good heart in hiring Mr. Nordstrund.”

“All I know for certain is it could have been so much worse.” Elizabeth leaned back against the headboard, her ankles crossed, her middle rounding with the growing baby.

“I know. It is easy to forget that and just look at the damage.” Astrid sipped from her teacup. As much as she loved coffee, a cup of tea in the afternoon, especially with a friend who was closer than the sister she'd never had, was a perfect pleasure. She studied Elizabeth over the rim of her teacup. Her color had returned. Her breathing was good. So far she was doing all right.
“Day by day
,

her mor had counseled, and Astrid constantly reminded herself of that.

She set her tea aside. “You sleep a few hours, and then I'll come and catch you up.”

Elizabeth snorted. “Looks to me like the doctor needs to take her own advice. Are you going to the meeting tonight?”

“Yes. Barring any accidents or emergencies.” Astrid set her teacup on the tray. “I just heard the bell.”

Thelma tapped at the open door. “A patient.”

“Thank you.” Astrid heard the coughing before she entered the room. “You were fighting the fire?”

The man nodded, then doubled over coughing. “Thought . . . it . . . would go away.” The wheezing told more than the coughing.

“What have you been taking?”

He shook his head and fought to get his breath. Astrid listened to his lungs, not that she even needed the stethoscope. “I'll be right back.” She stepped into the hall, where Thelma was waiting. “A steam kettle.”

“Figured. Be a couple of minutes before it is ready.” She handed Astrid a brown bottle. “Your mother's preparation.” She whirled around and headed back to the kitchen.

Astrid returned to the examining room. “Where are you staying now?”

“Boardinghouse, room with two others.” He paused to cough. “Was in a tent.”

“I see.” When Thelma called that the water was boiling, Astrid said, “Come with me.”

He followed her to the kitchen, where Thelma handed him a towel.

“What I want you to do is lean over that steaming kettle with the towel over your head and inhale. There is medication in the water, which will help clear your lungs. You need to do this three or four times a day. What building are you working on?”

“Boardinghouse wing.” He was breathing better already.

Astrid could tell by his accent that he was one of the Norwegian immigrants. “You are speaking English well.”

“Ja, that Mrs. Jeffers is a good teacher.”

“All right, ten minutes is long enough. I want you to come back here tonight and do this again.” She handed him the brown bottle and a teaspoon. “Take two spoons of this any time you start to cough. It will help soothe your throat. If you start to run a temperature, get to the hospital immediately. Pneumonia is not something to ignore. You understand?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Oh, and come back here in the morning too.”

He nodded and handed her back the spoon. “Can't I just take a swallow from the bottle?”

“I guess. But one at a time. If any others need help, you send them over.”

When he left, she turned to Thelma. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Not at all. My mother used to do that with us.”

Astrid returned to see Elizabeth sound asleep, so she headed for her own house.

Chapter 23

T
hat was a dumb fool act, and you know it!” Daniel glared at Anner.

Half a dozen of Blessing's men sat around in the boardinghouse dining room, deconstructing the horror of last night, discussing what to do next. Every man looked as bone weary as Trygve felt.

“The safe door was accidentally left open. I had no choice.” Anner glared right back at Daniel. Without eyebrows and hair, and with a few burn spots on his scalp, along with a red face like a bad sunburn, he looked almost comical. He kept his right hand under the table. “All our paper money, books, the paper work would have been gone. The bank might well have just closed its doors.”

Trygve refrained from laughing by sheer force of will. Anner would go head to head with a charging bull if it had to do with the bank. Daniel Jeffers would be no deterrent. That's for sure.

“You just don't understand, do you?” Daniel looked toward the ceiling, appearing frustrated. “People's lives are far more important than any bank papers and cash. Your life included.”

Anner started to say something and leaned forward, neck bulging, but just blinked. “Ah,” he sighed and sat back. “Any of you would have done the same thing.”

Trygve knew, as did everyone else, that Anner was always the last one out of the bank. If the safe was “accidentally” left open, you could lay the accident squarely at the door of Anner himself.

Daniel started, “The man who died—”

Anner interrupted. “You mean the one that blew himself to kingdom come and almost took the whole town with him?”

“We're not sure what happened, you know.”

“It was that dimwit, that fellow Huslig hired. Never should have hired the dolt. He probably lit that meerschaum pipe of his. Or started a fire in the stove. Fool didn't even notice all the
No Smoking
signs all over the place.”

Except he couldn'
t read
,
Anner
. Trygve decided keeping his thoughts to himself was the better course of action. Since he had stayed up all night on fire patrol, he fought back a yawn. Talk about aching in muscles he didn't even know he had. Like the others, his hands were raw from blisters in spite of leather gloves. He figured he'd stop at the hospital to be tended to—salve and maybe bandages—on his way home to bed.

Thomas Devlin raised a hand. “Forgive me for being so brazen, but let me mention here that Reverend Solberg and I be talking about a worship service to give thanks for all the lives saved, buildings too, and God's protection in general. We thought perhaps at the schoolhouse, so as to have room. Or outside. Somehow a bonfire did not seem a good idea.” His raised eyebrows brought forth a smattering of chuckles.

Anner shot Father Devlin an angry why-are-you-still-here? look.

If Tommy Devlin noticed, he ignored it. “John had a thank-you meeting at the schools with all the children this morning. Those children, so quick to volunteer things they were thankful for! 'Twould have been good for all the adults to hear them. More than one mentioned their whole family was still alive, especially those children from Tent Town. One little girl said some man grabbed her kitty on the fly and gave it to her later, then showed her the scratches from said ungrateful cat.”

While there was a lot of eye blinking going around those at the meeting, it could probably be attributed to the smoke. Leave it to children to remind the adults what was really important. “I think a service is more than just appropriate—it is a must. We have a lot of people to thank too.” Trygve blew his nose.

Daniel Jeffers nodded. “Thank you, Trygve. By the way, Dr. Bjorklund said to remind you all that blisters need to be treated so as not to become infected. Spread that news among all those you work with today. And if anyone with smoke inhalation starts coughing badly, or his cough gets worse, trot him right over to the hospital. Anything else we should know, Toby?”

He shrugged. “My crew is on the grain elevator, and Joshua's is on the bank building until the hot spots die down. As soon as we're done here, we need to assess the damage to other buildings, especially the boardinghouse and the new construction.”

Daniel nodded. “Ingeborg said the women are meeting at the church this evening to figure out housing for our burned-out people, as well as getting bedding, clothing, and other things people need. Father Devlin, can we put you in charge of finding what those needs are?”

“Aye. Good! For I know many of the Tent Town people.”

Jeffers turned to Anner and Hjelmer. “We need you two to assess how the bank can help and report with estimates in two days. If we have to go outside of Blessing to get funds to rebuild”—he scowled at Anner—“we will do that, because we all know winter is breathing down our necks.”

Toby added, “I already inspected the hospital roof. Like others, it will leak if we don't fix it immediately.”

“I sure am grateful for the metal roofs on the flour mill and the machinery plant. When I think how the flour mill could have gone up too . . .” Hjelmer wagged his head. “If I didn't believe in God's providence before this, I would be a believer now.”

Trygve thought of cleaning out his ears. That was Hjelmer talking. Hjelmer of the Midas touch. Ah, Onkel Haakan, if only
you could be here now. All those prayers of yours and Tante Ingeborg's, Mor's and Far's, John Solberg's, and all the others. Perhaps that was one of the benefits of a catastrophe. It brought people to work together, to let go of personal differences, and if you looked, you could see the hand of God in action.

Since when did he become a philosopher?

He asked, “Shall I do roof inspections, then?”

“Yes. Thank you, Trygve. All the roofs that we cleaned burning material off of. That's pretty much all of them within a few blocks of the elevator. We need estimates of supplies to replace shingles and things, and how much time that will probably take.” Jeffers looked around to the rest of the group. “Any other suggestions? Questions? No? Then I'd like to suggest we meet again tomorrow evening.”

Everyone nodded their agreement. The grating of chairs being pushed back and the murmuring of conversations filled the dining room.

“Does Thorliff need help getting the paper out?” Father Devlin asked him.

“He hoped to be here, but as you can see . . .” Trygve picked up one of the tablets on the table and several pencils, stuffing them in the chest pocket of his shirt.

Father Devlin nodded. “Think I'll be dropping by there for a bit.” He left.

Sophie met Trygve at the doorway to the dining room. “Did I hear Daniel appoint you as estimator for the roofs?” At his nod, she continued. “Do you want to start here?”

“Might as well, since I'm here.”

“Do you want Garth to help you? He investigated the damage to the east wing of the boardinghouse. He and a couple of men are tearing off the damaged siding now. That wing really got hit, but it didn't burn.”

“I'll ask him to go up with me, then.” He smiled at his sister, who looked a bit worse for the wear, like all the rest of them.
Instead of one of her stylish dresses, which she usually wore, today it was a black skirt, light waist, and an apron. Her hair was fighting to escape the restrictions of the snood, and like all the others, she could probably use some sleep. The thought of that reminded him that he'd not slept either. So far, the repeated cups of coffee were carrying him along.

He asked as casually as possible, “Have you seen Miriam lately?”

“She came in, had dinner, and went up to sleep. The poor girl was completely exhausted. I think this all caught up with her at once. She's a sweet lady, Trygve.”

He smiled. “Glad you think so too.”

“Oh, and I put Dr. Deming in another room until we get his window boarded up or replaced. The poor man's face is a mess. He has three roofers sleeping in there with him. In fact, all the rooms have a couple extra Tent Town people. I hate to see any stand empty.”

He nodded. “Every job is the first job we have to do. If only winter weren't so near.” He patted her arm. “I'll go up on the roof.”

“Thank you.”

He had just stepped out onto the shingles when Garth joined him.

Garth said, “We're going to have to replace a lot of the siding on that east wall. So let's start there.”

Together they measured and made notes. The roof had not actually caught fire anywhere, but many shingles on the east side were scorched or had been blown off by the blast. When they finished the boardinghouse, Garth stayed with him. They assessed the Blessing Mercantile and Garrisons' Groceries, and ended up at the new construction. A section of the apartment house was damaged. How they had gotten the fire out was a miracle indeed. The roofs on the three houses had minor damage.

Garth went back to tearing off siding on the boardinghouse, and Trygve sat down at the newspaper office, now empty, to put together the report for each building.

“Trygve, wake up.” A hand was shaking his shoulder.

Trygve raised his head. “What?”

“We've been looking for you, thought you went home to sleep.” Thorliff grinned at his cousin. “You went to sleep all right. Your cheek looks mashed to the table.”

“What time is it?”

“Five thirty. Come on in and have supper.”

Trygve blinked again and yet again. The sand cart had surely driven through his eyes. His neck felt like a board, and his stomach growled viciously. “I didn't finish the reports.”

“Eat and then finish. Jonathan came looking for you, since he and Grace thought you'd be home for supper. Amazing how dependent we've become on the telephones.” Thorliff turned back at the doorway. “Are you coming?”

“Sure. Just trying to unkink myself.” He gathered up his papers and joined Thorliff. “You got the paper out?”

“I did. It's short but done. I heard it was a rather interesting meeting this afternoon.”

“It seemed strange to have Jeffers leading and not you.” The reminder of Anner made him almost smile. “You missed a bit of a circus between Anner and Daniel.”

“I heard. It's a good thing I wasn't there.”

“Trygve!” Inga bailed off her chair and threw her arms around him. “You were lost!”

“No, I was sound asleep.”

She gave him a sideways look. “On the newspapers?”

“No. At the table.”

“You have ink on your face.”

“Guess I'd better go wash.”

When he looked in the mirror, he saw a man with the same purple slashes under the eyes as most of the other people he'd seen. But the others did not have a smear of ink and several smoke smudges. He scrubbed his face and hands and, straight-arming the sink edge, let his head fall forward to stretch his neck. He heaved a deep sigh. “I am tired.” He'd been hoping to see Miriam, but he was guessing she would be back at the hospital again by now.

“I would have invited someone to stay at my house, but as you know, we have Rebecca there and Benny.” Hildegunn Valders stated her piece before anyone could ask, then stared at her hands clasped in her lap.

“No matter, Hildegunn. We had enough homes or rooms for everyone to have a place to sleep.” Amelia Jeffers nodded with a gracious smile.

Ingeborg and Kaaren did a raised-eyebrow glance. Why had Hildegunn started out like that? Ingeborg had moved Emmy in with her and Manny to a pallet on the floor so that a family with two children and an uncle could sleep upstairs. The children went to school, the men to work, and the woman to the hospital, where she worked in the laundry. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs, so Ingeborg dug out some of Haakan's clothes for the men and gave the missus a dress and a sweater. All those people would need winter clothing, and bedding as well, once some housing was ready.

“We could just send them back where they came from.” Was Hildegunn parroting her husband?

Penny barked, “We invited these people to Blessing for a new life, just like all of us who already came here. If some of them want to leave, that is their choice, but for us to act like that would be unconscionable! Whatever are you thinking, Hildegunn?”

Other books

La conquista del aire by Gopegui, Belén
Rebecca Hagan Lee by Gossamer
Blame It on the Mistletoe by Nicole Michaels
Daddy Next Door by Judy Christenberry
Porter (Dick Dynasty #1) by David Michael
To Love and Submit by Katy Swann
Messenger by Moonlight by Stephanie Grace Whitson
[Anita Blake 17] - Skin Trade by Laurell K. Hamilton