A Promise for Ellie (17 page)

Another woman stood. “Ellie, I still have the handkerchief you made for me when I was sick. So often you and your mother brought over supper or fresh bread or pies. You seemed to show up when I was most despondent. I’ll always think of you as an angel of mercy. Thank you.”

Ellie reached for her mother’s hand. While she’d been the deliverer, her mother had done most of the fixings. Nodding and smiling, she bit her lip to keep the tears from brimming over.
But, Lord, none
of these things were big things. I never did big things. It’s Mor who needs
these thanks more than I do
.

Ellie smiled and nodded again. Then when Mrs. Saunders sat down, she stood up. “Thank you all for the lovely things you have said, but I have to tell you something. My mother here is the one behind all the things I did. She would fix something and say, ‘Take this over to so and so.’ And I would. I . . . we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.” She sat down to nodding and smiling, and a glance at her mother showed what she knew it would. Two fat tears slipped down Goodie’s cheeks.

“Thank you, Ellie, and now what we’ve all been waiting for—the gifts. Small things that we know every young woman, or old one for that matter, needs in her home. Rachel and Julia, will you two please bring the gifts to Ellie, and then we’ll pass them around the room so everyone can see.”

Giggling, the two girls did as they were told.

“Make sure the tags stay with the gifts so you know who to thank,” Goodie whispered.

Ellie nodded and began opening the parade of packages. Flower and garden seeds, a cutting of a rosebush, a start of a lilac, knitting needles, sewing needles and pins, pieces of cloth for future quilts, dish towels, embroidered pillowcases, an embroidered tablecloth, hemmed napkins, a sadiron dressed in calico, clothespins, jars of pickles and jams, three strawberry plants, a note that said
Come to my house for
two hens,
an oval braided rug, potholders, crocheted doilies and antimacassars, a carved box for her personal things, a cast-iron skillet, six teaspoons, and a lovely blue vase.

Ellie stood after opening all the packages and smiled at each woman there. “You have blessed me beyond measure. I thank you, and I know Andrew will thank you.” She sniffed back tears. “You have been so good to me.” More tears. She wiped them with her napkin. “Thank you and thank you again.”

Olaf drove up to the church door just as they’d finished putting the many gifts into boxes. “They said I would be needed.”

“Ja, you are.” Goodie handed him a box.

“Looks like I better build another trunk.”

Ellie threw her arms around him and whispered in his ear, “You’ve been too good to me already. Thank you.”

That night, after writing a letter to Andrew, she knelt at the window. Staring at the azure sky, she whispered, “Father, thank you. I cannot say it often enough. And take care of Andrew, please. Let him know how much I love him. Amen. And thank you for caring so much, even to giving me a blue vase.” And here she’d been concerned about having the things necessary for her house, the one Andrew might be building right now.

June 2, 1900
Dear Andrew,

I’m so sorry I was unable to come when I had said I would, but Ma really wanted me to stay for the party the church ladies had for me today. It was for us really, as everything they gave me will make our house more a home. The tables were set with white cloths and flowers down the centers. I think everyone from the church came—that is, the women and older girls, and many others besides. Every time I think of the nice things they said and the lovely gifts, I tear up all over again. Pa said he would have to build another trunk to carry all our housewares.

So who is more important to her? Me or her mother?
Andrew chewed on his lower lip. Waiting was never comfortable.

I will plan on arriving on Wednesday. I hope Penny didn’t mind that I held off my arrival for almost a week.

Have you looked at our garden? I know you are so very busy, so I hesitate to even ask. I never dreamed that leaving my family would be so difficult. Rachel cries about it at least once a day, and Arne mopes along with her. I catch Ma watching me, as if trying to memorize my every word and action. I have to confess to having some anger at Pa for moving us all here, yet I know he did what he thought best for his family and the furniture business. His business is growing all the time, so on that count he made a wise decision. I pray you and I will always make wise decisions. Although wise and painless certainly do not go hand in hand.

Andrew looked up from reading the letter to study his barn. Their barn. But at home it was his mother’s house and his pa’s barn. And Ingeborg’s cheese house. He returned to his reading, knowing that he better read quickly because the others were coming across the field to continue nailing on the siding. He needed to order the glass for the windows too. If they made as much progress today as the last three, some of the men could start with the roofing.

Two more days and he would be able to see Ellie’s sweet face every day, touch her hand, walk with her in the evening. His insides warmed.

A cool breeze tugged at his hat brim. He glanced up to see clouds gathering on the western horizon and sniffed the air. Sure enough, it smelled like rain. The gardens needed rain, the wheat fields needed rain, and the hayfields needed it too, but heavy rain might beat the stands down. A gentle rain would be a wonderful gift to all except the barn building.

Not that they couldn’t work in the rain, but lightning would bring the work to a stop.

He finished reading the last lines of the letter.

I can’t wait to see your smile and touch your face.

Love always,
Your Ellie

His face warmed at the thought of her hand on his skin. Andrew folded the letter and put it back into his pocket. Right now he didn’t want the men teasing him. He’d been the butt of their jokes for longer than he cared. Time they found someone else to torment, although he knew it was all in good fun. And laughter made the work go faster.

How would he ever pay them all back for the time spent here? The Baards, Pastor Solberg, Hjelmer, even the Valderses all took time away from things needing doing at their own places.

He took his tape measure out and set the cedar board across the sawhorses. Measure twice, cut once. One of the proverbs his pa had drilled into him from the first time he cut a board.

“If that rain drives us off, we’ll need to get those first two litters of pigs cut. We can do that in the barn. Sheep need to be sheared too.” Haakan moved the ladder over to start a new section. There were more board cuts to be made, since they were working on the front of the barn, around the big double doors on the ground floor, and the opening to the haymow on the second floor.

“Did Mor come home yet?”

“No. She should be coming home later. Astrid set dinner to cooking and went on over to Thorliff ’s. I know he has to work on the newspaper today.” Haakan checked the edge on the saw. “Need to do some sharpening too.”

Thunder grumbled in the distance. Andrew checked the sky. While the sun shone immediately over them, to the north and west the sky already wore dark gray clouds, billowing like sheets before a wind. Rain veils slanted in the west.

“Might blow on by us.” Haakan reached down for the board Andrew had cut. They took turns nailing from the ladder or cutting at the sawhorses. They could hear the others talking as they worked on the east side. The slam of the mallet on the froe, the screech of the shingles splitting away, hammers on nails, the rasp of saws—all the sounds of building sang like music to Andrew’s ears. Thunder rolled, closer now. The first fine rain mist blew across his face.

The men climbed down from the ladders as lightning forked the sky to the north.

“Here it comes.”

“Shame we don’t have even a part of the roof on.”

“We could sit under the wagon. Wait it out.”

“How about a cup of hot coffee?” Haakan slammed the lid of the toolbox so all would be kept dry. “Let’s go.”

“Bet I can beat you.” Trygve sent a dare to Andrew.

“No, I can.” Samuel started off running without waiting to see who would pick up the challenge.

Andrew glanced at his father. Haakan’s eyebrows raised. Trygve yelled, “Go,” and they all pelted across the field. Andrew let the others get ahead, pacing himself so he wouldn’t run out of steam. Haakan matched him, stride for stride.

Hjelmer tried to keep up with the younger ones but fell back, his chest pumping like Samuel’s legs. “I-need-to run-more often.”

Past Lars and the Baards, leaving Reverend Solberg panting, Haakan and Andrew kept on, boots slamming into the ground. Andrew’s chest started to hurt, a stitch caught his side. They didn’t catch Trygve but passed Samuel, spraddle-legged and bent over to catch his breath.

“I won.” Trygve hit the Bjorklunds’ porch and turned, throwing his hands into the air.

Andrew and Haakan collapsed on the steps at the same time.

“You shoulda outrun me.” Haakan spoke between sucks of air.

“I tried. You wouldn’t give up.” Andrew gulped in air.

Rain pelted them all, running from the hat brims of the others as they trotted up.

Lightning split the sky, and thunder crashed so close their ears rang. They all followed Haakan inside the house and stood dripping on the rugs while he rattled the grate on the stove and lifted both round lids to add sticks of pitch, and as they caught, laid split wood on top, setting the lids back in place and turning the draft on full open.

“Andrew, how about grinding us up some coffee?” He nodded to the grinder and the jar of beans next to it. “Come on, gather round. There’s enough room for all of us. Crazy fools we are, running across the field like that during a lightning storm.”

“I won,” Trygve stated. “And most of us got here before the lightning started.”

“That you did, son.” Lars clapped his boy on the shoulder. “Left all us old codgers far behind.” He turned to his other boy. “What happened to you, Samuel?”

“I tripped and fell.” Disgust made him shake his head. “Like a dumb little kid.”

“I almost fell.” Hjelmer nudged Samuel with his elbow. “Sitting in meetings for the legislature and running across a field are two different things. I thought my chest would burst out there.”

“Then you’d bleed all over.” Samuel grinned back at him.

“We can’t have that, you know.” Lars shook his head and stared at Hjelmer as if mortally worried about him.

“It would hurt?”

“Ja, but you know, when men turn into politicians, their blood turns color, from good red to . . .” He paused.

“To what?”

“To green, ’cause all they talk about—think about—is money.”

Hjelmer laughed first, and the others joined in.

Andrew caught his pa’s eye and enjoyed the wink. He knew Haakan’s views on those in government. He’d heard the discussions often enough. Far always felt the farmers got the short end of the stick.

“A good day’s labor never hurt anybody.”

“You didn’t see my hands Saturday night. Hurt was real there.” Hjelmer took off his leather gloves and held up his hands that showed the bandages his wife had wrapped around his palms.

“A few more days, and maybe you’ll be worth something again.” Lars looked all innocent as he sent the barb zinging Hjelmer’s way.

Andrew turned the crank on the square wooden coffee grinder with more force to keep from snorting. Everyone got blisters at one time or another, especially in the spring, but not that bad. At least Hjelmer kept coming back. Andrew measured the grounds into the coffeepot that Trygve filled from the reservoir and set the gray enameled pot on the front of the stove.

How strange it seemed to be in the kitchen like this without his mor making the coffee and cutting bread and cheese. He looked in the breadbox, but the half loaf of bread wouldn’t feed everyone.

“See if there is more in the pantry.” Haakan was getting cups from the cupboard.

The beans baking in the oven flavored the room, but they wouldn’t be done until supper. No bread, but a half full pan of gingerbread would work if he cut the pieces smaller than usual. That and the cookies in the cookie jar. Andrew glanced around looking for anything else. Mor would have had bread rising while she and Astrid washed the clothes. Today she would have hung the clean clothes on the porch or left them in the basket to hang when the rain ceased. He glanced outside to see fat drops plopping into the mud puddles. White lightning forked—it and the thunder had moved farther east, leaving a steady rainfall to nourish the earth.

“You can hear the ground sighing in appreciation.” Haakan stood just behind Andrew’s shoulder.

“Mor always says the trees clap their branches and leaves for joy when the rain comes.”

“She’s right. I’ve heard them.”

Andrew’s smile tripped on a sigh. “I can’t wait until Mor gets home.”

“Ja. The house just gets all cold and lonesome without her.”

Is that what being married is like—even the house knows when the
wife is not there?
Andrew never had liked empty houses. They didn’t even smell right.