A Heart for Home (6 page)

“Are there any rivers close enough to fish?” she asked. “Or lakes?”

“The Missouri and the creeks. The tribe used to spend time at the river on their travels and smoke or dry fish, but their primary staple for all their needs was the buffalo. Once they were all killed off, the people had nowhere to turn.”

“But why were the buffalo killed?”

Mr. Moore shrugged. “It never made sense to me either, but the government ordered it, and some people made a lot of money doing so. The hides were taken and the rest left to rot.”

Back to the government. Astrid caught a glance from her father, a reminder to be gentle. She gave a slight nod to show she understood and pasted a smile on her face. “Thank you for the meal. I need to return to my patients now.” She pushed back her chair and fled the room.

Finding Johnny and Samuel tending the fires, she said, “You boys go eat now. Thanks for keeping the fires going.” How could she ever thank these two from Blessing? Johnny Solberg had come with his father, and Samuel Knutson was her cousin. They both worked from dawn to dark like the rest of them. If they’d thought they were coming on an adventure, she was afraid they must be disappointed.

She first checked on those in the infirmary and then headed to the creek. Shy Fawn and Gray Smoke were bringing the children out of the creek. The old man and woman were asleep on pallets in the shade of a cottonwood tree next to the brave and a younger woman, who was holding a young child. Astrid checked each of the patients, instructed her helpers to give them as much broth as they would tolerate, and thanked them. Even if the women didn’t understand her words, they responded to smiles and nods, a universal language.

When her father and Pastor Solberg returned from supper, they took the brave back into the creek because his fever was climbing again. He blinked at the shock of the cool water and looked wildly around before Shy Fawn said something to calm him. The elderly man took up his seated position in the creek again, and the brave settled back down.

“What is his name?” Astrid asked Mr. Moore when he returned.

“I cannot pronounce his Sioux name, but it translates into He Who Walks Tall. He will not have anything to do with me – he always sits outside the circle when I meet with the elders.”

“When did you last meet with them?”

“Two or three weeks ago. While I’ve had the measles, my wife has not, and I have been keeping my distance for that reason.”

And here we ate with them. At least we all had scrubbed up well
. Astrid scolded herself for not asking about that. One more assumption she’d made without having all the information. But then, they were white, and the whites didn’t have as bad a reaction to the measles as did the Indians. Besides which, they were not starving to death at the same time. The two went hand in hand.

By the end of the day she had gone through all the tepees. They had put the last of the beef bones into the kettles to boil for broth, and those families that were able were cooking beans with bits of smoked beef. Racks were tented over the fires to smoke the remainder of the beef. One more steer could be butchered when this was gone. At home they would have canned part of it.

Astrid sent her two helper women off to bed and took the early watch while most of the group from Blessing slept. Johnny was outside, keeping the fires stoked and making sure nothing was stolen. Tomorrow was Sunday, the Lord’s Day, a day of rest. But like taking care of animals, taking care of the human patients would leave little time for rest.

She made her rounds, laying the back of her hand against cheeks to check for fever, listening to hearts and lungs of those who coughed. She was quickly running out of honey, which helped soothe coughs and made the other medicines go down more easily.

When she stopped at He Who Walks Tall’s pallet, he opened his eyes and tried to raise his head.

“Easy. All is well.” She used the same gentle tone she used to comfort children and animals, hoping the tone communicated more than the words. When she saw his fist clench, she started to back away but then straightened her spine and held her ground.

“Do you speak English at all?”

Did the tip of his chin indicate he did?
Please, Lord, let it be so
.

“Did you mean yes?”

The same motion again. He cleared his throat with a guttural sound.

“I’ll be right back with some water for you to drink.” Her steps seemed to barely touch the floor. Someone could speak her language! Perhaps there would be answers for the myriad questions she had stewing inside. By the time she returned, he had drifted off to sleep. Perhaps she should give him some broth the next time he awoke. He wasn’t as emaciated as some of the others, but a fever like he’d had left one weaker than a newborn.

One of the children started to cry. But when she tried to hold him to comfort him, he drew back, fear clouding his eyes. His piercing scream jerked all the others awake, and Shy Fawn came running through the door from the room where the women and healthier children slept.

Shy Fawn took the boy, her eyes apologizing for the child’s behavior. Gray Smoke went down the rows, talking softly to the others, and they lay back down. Surveying the room, Astrid saw that He Who Walks Tall was half sitting and looked like he was about to collapse. She picked up a cup of broth, now cold but still sustenance, and returned to the man’s pallet.

“I’m sorry. I frightened the child.”

“Yes.”

“I brought some beef broth for you. Would you drink it or use a spoon?”

“Drink.” But when he reached for the cup, he collapsed back against his bedding.

“I’ll help you.” She knelt beside him and spooned the liquid into his mouth. When his eyelids refused to stay open, she stood. “Very good. You’ve had the measles, but you will recover.”
Please, Lord, let
it be so.

She shared her good news when Pastor Solberg came to relieve her, then made her way back to the wagon and crawled into the empty bed.

“Is everything all right?” Haakan asked.

“Yes. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

Camp noises woke her in the morning sometime after the sun had risen. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked her father as she tied on her medical apron.

Haakan was sitting on a rock beside the fire, drinking his morning coffee and watching the kettles. “He Who Walks Tall has eaten breakfast, and two of the children are up and have been fed, so now they are helping our nurses. I’m afraid the old woman is not going to make it, but the man is responding.”

“Our nurses,” Astrid repeated. She nodded at his news but kept thinking on his comment. What if those two women were indeed given medical training, a short course probably, so they could be available to help Dr. Red Hawk when he returned? If only the chief would talk with her and become amenable to their help. Was Red Hawk planning on returning to this tribe, or would his offices be at Rosebud’s main settlement? Why was it she always had more questions than answers?

She took the coffee offered and helped herself to a slice of cheese. Pastor Solberg handed her a bowl of oatmeal with a bit of milk and brown sugar.

“I gave most of it to the children and the sick ones.”

“That is what we are supposed to do. We get to go home to good food, clean houses, clean clothing, and gardens growing so fast you can measure the progress daily.” She sat down on one of the rocks. “Shoot me if you ever hear me grumbling again, all right?”

“That might be a bit extreme.” Pastor Solberg sat down beside her. “I’ve planned a worship service for noon, right here around the fire. I’m hoping curiosity will bring in some of our Indian friends. The Moores are planning to come.”

“And we’ll serve a meal afterward?”

“That is the plan. I’ve added beans and onions to the kettle and will empty the jars of vegetables and tomatoes too. Do you think I could get Mrs. Moore to bake some biscuits?”

“It’s worth a try,” Astrid said. “Perhaps her helper knows how to make biscuits by now.”

“I thought you might like to be the one to ask her,” the pastor said.

“Wouldn’t she find it harder to turn down a preacher?”

He rolled his eyes. “You are too sharp for your own good.”

“How much milk did the cow give this morning?”

“Near to a gallon, and we have ten eggs to beat into it,” her father answered. “Though the honey is running low, we have some brown sugar and strawberry jam. I thought to mix some of the jam into it too.”

“Good idea. How long do you think the cow will last?”

“Since she’s been bred, several years if they treat her right.”

“I mean without being stolen and butchered for her meat.”

“I’ve been thinking on that,” Haakan said, scratching his jaw. “Shy Fawn has learned to milk her. We could send a bull along in the fall and maybe another cow. Got to get them farming, but you need hay for feed in the winter and a barn.”

Astrid washed her bowl in the dishpan, rinsed and dried it, then put it back in the box mounted on the side of the wagon. Where would they find enough bowls to feed all these people?

Greeting Shy Fawn, she entered the infirmary to begin checking on her patients. What she needed most was an interpreter. He Who Walks Tall was sound asleep, the spots on his body more a fading rash. Two of the children followed her on her rounds, the little girl scratching her head. The older man’s temperature had abated and he was now drinking some broth. His wife was no worse. Maybe there was hope for her after all. Of the fifteen in the infirmary, only three were comatose. She asked her two helpers to carry one of the three back out to the creek and then set them to continue feeding any who could accept it.

Glancing up when the doorway darkened, Astrid saw the chief observing their work. Without a word he turned and left. While he had not been frowning, he’d not shown any pleasure either. Didn’t he care if his people lived or died?

5

B
LESSING
, N
ORTH
D
AKOTA

“Grandma!”

Ingeborg turned from the screen door at the insistent voice. “What is it, Emmy?”

“Can I go to Inga’s house?”

“Let me telephone Dr. Elizabeth and see if it is all right.” Grateful for the distraction, Ingeborg picked up the receiver to hear Gerald’s familiar voice.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Bjorklund?”

“Thorliff’s, please. How’s Benny doing?”

“Our Benny is so excited about that baby coming that he hates to leave Rebecca by herself, afraid he might miss the big event.”

Ingeborg chuckled. Benny had come to Blessing last winter, after he’d become a patient of Astrid’s in Chicago due to an accident that cost him his legs above the knees. Gerald Valders and his wife, Rebecca, had gone to Chicago to get the little boy and bring him to a forever home. Everybody loved Benny, and he reciprocated with absolute joy.

“I’ll ring for you. Have you heard anything from Haakan and the rest?”

“No, and the time is stretching worse than during harvest.”

“You want Benny to come cheer you up?”

“If Emmy goes to Thorliff’s, Benny could maybe go too.”

“Why don’t you come too and bring them all over for sodas? My wife has some new syrups she’s experimenting with.”

Ingeborg loved the way Gerald said
My wife
. “This is sounding better all the time. Thank you.”

“I’ll tell Rebecca you are coming. Make it a party. I’ll ring for you.”

Ingeborg hummed to herself while waiting for someone to pick up the phone. When the housekeeper, Thelma, answered, they chatted for a bit before she asked to talk with Elizabeth.

“I’ll get her for you.”

“Is she far from the telephone?”

“No. She and Inga are reading on the back porch.”

Hmm, must not have any patients
, Ingeborg thought.
That is wonderful.
Elizabeth needs the rest
. “Good morning. Am I to understand things are slow at the surgery?” she asked her daughter-in-law.

“They are, so I put up a sign that says
Emergencies Only
. You would be proud of me. I have a cushion behind my back and my feet up, and Inga is fetching for me.”

“Would you like some company?”

“If you mean Emmy, yes. If you mean both of you, I will force myself and my darling daughter to not dance around the porch but wait patiently for your arrival. Oh, Ingeborg, I am thrilled.”

“Well, that certainly settles that matter. I think we will walk rather than hitching up the buggy, so we should be there soon. Can I bring anything?”

“Just yourselves. Bye.”

I forgot to tell her we are invited for sodas
. She turned to Emmy.

“Are you ready?”

“Both you and me?”

“Ja, both.”

Emmy spun in a circle and clapped her hands. “Get sunbonnets?”

“Ja. But we will wear the straw hats. We shall dress up today. Do you need a clean pinafore?”

Emmy looked down the front of her white ruffled pinafore, flew to the sink for the dishcloth, and scrubbed at a spot. “No, all better now.”

Ingeborg hung her apron on the hook by the door, placed a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head, and handed a smaller version to Emmy. She leaned down to tie the bow under the little girl’s chin, then kissed the tip of her finger and planted the kiss on Emmy’s button nose. After banking the stove, she shut the door behind them, and they walked down the lane. Crossing the fields would be quicker, but then they’d have to go through the barbed wire fences of the pasture for the dairy cows. With a happy smile, Emmy took her hand. This little one had changed so much in the months since they’d found her nearly frozen to death in the barn. For months she’d not spoken a word or smiled, but she had watched every move they made and copied what she could. Ingeborg felt like scooping her up and twirling around, covering her cheeks with kisses.
Thank you, Father,
thank you
. Had she been remiss these last few days in sending up her bursts of gratitude? Perhaps that was why she was feeling Haakan’s absence so acutely.