A Promise for Ellie (27 page)

“What do you think of this new scheme of Hjelmer’s?” Lars asked.

“Be a good thing if we can find a way to pay for it.”

“He’s convinced it will pay for itself in five years or less.”

“I know, but you still have to have money to build it. You want to run it?”

“No.” Lars nudged Andrew with his elbow. “What about you?”

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is farm. You know that.”

“We need someone real experienced in milling and someone real good with a steam engine. You could run that engine, Lars. You’ve kept ours humming for years and rebuilt them when they needed it.”

“I know. I thought about it. Where do you think we should put it?”

“Near the railroad track in Blessing would be central. Right by the elevator, I’d imagine, if there’s enough room there. But I don’t think our bank has enough money to handle an undertaking like this. Hjelmer says he’ll find the money, but at what kind of interest?”

Andrew listened to the discussion but had nothing to add to it. Providing milk for his mother’s cheese house was more to his liking, along with raising the hogs on the leftovers from the cheese process. He had four sows so far with two more to farrow. They should have a good crop of butcher-sized hogs come fall. Which reminded him—it was getting past time for cutting all the boars.

“How much more hay to cut?” he asked.

“Another ten acres at Solbergs’ and we should be done. Unless we buy that new piece.”

“I thought you made up your mind.” Andrew leaned down to pet Barney, who’d come running to greet them.

“Guess I have, but doubts still creep in. Told Landsverk I’d let him know tomorrow. All Ingeborg can think about is more cows and land to grow grain and hay for them. Night, Lars.”

Haakan and Andrew stopped at the wash bench and, after cleaning up, left their boots on the porch before pausing at the water bucket for a long drink.

“The coffee can be hot in a minute if you’d like.” Ingeborg’s voice came from the parlor, where the sound of the spinning wheel announced what she was doing. “Do you want some strawberry and rhubarb pie?”

“Does a cow moo?” Haakan continued on into the parlor and settled into his rocking chair. “Ah, now this feels mighty good.”

Andrew stuck some wood into the fire and pulled the coffeepot forward. “Hey, isn’t Samuel supposed to be keeping the woodbox full?”

“He filled it earlier, and then I made the pie.”

“Where’s Astrid?”

“Over to Elizabeth’s. And don’t ask why.”

“Why not?”

“Just because.”

Andrew wandered into the parlor. “Is Ellie there too?”

“I don’t know.” She frowned at him. “Sometimes it is better not to ask questions.”

“Give it up, son. She’s not going to tell you. You’re going to have to learn that at times, especially when an important event is coming, you don’t question anything. You just eat your pie and go to bed.”

Andrew started to ask what important event, then clamped his mouth shut.
The wedding
. “I’ll get the coffee.”

“Half a pie is not considered a piece,” warned Ingeborg.

“There are two of them.”

“I know. I want some for tomorrow too.”

“Fours?”

“Fives.”

Andrew threw his father a glance and returned to the kitchen. Nobody made pies as good as his mor. Maybe Ellie should take lessons. Not that her pies were not good. They just didn’t quite measure up to what he was used to. Astrid had learned well, so he knew Mor could pass on the knack.

He cut the pie and, sliding each piece onto a plate, took them into the parlor. “I’ll get the coffee as soon as it’s hot.” He handed his mother hers.

“Thank you, Andrew. That was kind of you.”

“You look pretty busy. This year’s wool or last’s?”

“Last. I washed the first of the fleece today. Wish I had some sheepskins with the wool on. We haven’t kept any like that for a long time.”

“Come butchering time we’ll have some. What do you want to make?” Haakan scraped the last of his pie from the plate. “Mange takk, wife. That hit the spot.”

“Oh, the coffee.” Andrew headed for the kitchen. “Don’t touch my pie.”

“Now, who would ever do that?” False innocence dripped from Haakan’s voice.

“Mor!”

“You better bring yourself another piece.”

Andrew delivered the coffee, giving his father a stern but entirely useless glare.

“Mange takk,” Haakan responded with a chuckle. He raised his cup in salute.

Andrew rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I think I feel a
tsk
coming on.” He sat down to finish his new piece of pie, not a bad deal since he’d eaten more than half of the other piece. Then holding his coffee cup in both hands, he let his gaze blur over the rim so he could imagine his finished house and barn—Ellie hanging clothes on the line, Ellie with her golden hair blowing in the wind that dried the sheets almost as fast as one hung them up. He knew she left her hair down for him while many of the young women wore theirs braided in a coronet like his mor’s or tucked neatly into a bun at the base of the neck, or at least tied back along the top. He liked Ellie’s best with combs picking up the sides. How beautiful she was, slim like a willow branch that bent and danced in the wind. Ellie. His Ellie.

He pushed himself to his feet. It seemed their wedding would never come. For the first time in years, he couldn’t wait for harvest to start. But they had to get through haying first.

Haakan sat in his chair, chin on his chest, the coffee cup on the floor beside him. Ingeborg continued to hum along with her spinning, the spindle filling with yarn, even and strong. Like everything she did, his mor spun the nicest yarn. Not that he was any judge, but he’d heard others complimenting her.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Andrew. It’s so good to have you back.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

“Why, how nice. Thank you for that too.” Ingeborg patted his cheek.

“I’m the one who has much to be thankful for. I’m sorry I don’t say so more often. That pie was the best.”

He’d planned to write Ellie a note. Funny, or perhaps not funny but strange, here they were living only a mile from each other, and they hardly had any time together at all. Unless he went there now and called to her window like he had the night before. Instead, he crawled into bed. There was too much to do to go out again tonight. Eating pie had taken the time away.

As soon as they finished up with the Solbergs’ hay, they headed on over to the newly purchased farm.What had been sowed to wheat the year before was nothing but weeds, needing to be plowed again for the next spring. The hayfields were almost too dry. Sophie and Grace drove the cook wagon to see if they could handle the work. With Mrs. Sam cooking at the boardinghouse, she would not be able to cook for the threshing crew this year. The girls’ laughter and teasing almost made up for the food—almost but not quite.

“If you two want to drive the wagon for the threshing crew, you’re going to have to get up earlier and cook longer.We’ll have three times as many men along then as now.” Lars mopped the gravy up with a piece of bread.

“I know that now.” Sophie sat on the wagon tongue, her elbows on her knees. “It sounded pretty simple when Ma told us about it.”

Grace leaned against the wheel. “I’d rather be home milking cows.”

“Ilse said she’d do this.”

“But she can’t for harvest.”

Andrew listened to the discussion. He’d been on the rake, and his rear hurt from the metal seat. He’d rather be home milking too. Now that was a chore he enjoyed.While the yield on this place didn’t come up to that at home, it would be a good addition after some plowing and fertilizing.

They’d been lucky to get it.

He could have finished pouring the cellar walls had he been at home. Only half of one to finish. Patience. Easy to say and difficult to do—especially at a time like this.

“We’ll announce the house raising for Saturday, if that’s all right with you.” Haakan rode beside Andrew on one of the loaded hay wagons, pulling the mower behind.

Andrew grinned over his shoulder. “You mean it?”

“Ja, we got a break here. The wheat’s not ready yet.”

Andrew nodded.
Do not leap off the wagon and run all the way
home,
he ordered himself. But three more days.

He glanced to the west to catch heat lightning fracturing the sky. “Storm’s coming.”

“I know. You can smell it. We sure need rain, but I’m hoping for a gentle two-day pour to water everything good.”

“But not knock all the wheat down.” Or hail. The last thing they needed right now was a hailstorm. They drove into the yard in front of his barn at the same time as the first drops fell. Thunder rolled far off, the earth grumbling for a faster drink.

“Let’s get as much up into the barn as we can.” Haakan swung down and unhitched the mower. “Take that team around to the back to pull the loads up.”

As soon as the prongs came within reach, Haakan sunk them into the hay and hollered, “Take her up!”

The first load shifted, then lifted in the giant teeth and creaked its way to the top pulley before whooshing into the loft. Andrew pulled the release line, the load dropped, and the prongs clanged together again as the ropes hummed to start all over again.

Miraculously, the rain held off after the first spatter. They emptied the one wagon, and the waiting team pulled the next wagon into place. Lightning flashed closer this time, and thunder waited before answering. But when it crashed instead of rumbled, Andrew knew it was close. He could see through the haymow door that the sky had darkened. Another load whooshed in and dropped.

The clouds opened and rain poured down. The men on the load straightened the hay as much as they could to provide run off and slid to the ground. They all gathered inside the barn door and watched.

“Most likely have to unload that and let it dry out.” Lars leaned against the doorjamb.

“I’m grateful it isn’t hailing.” Haakan took off his hat and lifted his face to the mist blowing in. “We’ll let it dry and restack it later. We can bring those two stacks home after harvest or during the winter. Be easy to do on the sledge.”

Leave it to Haakan, always putting the best face on things. Andrew studied his pa standing so easy in the doorway. Here he’d been thinking how bad it was the load was getting wet, and Haakan was counting his blessings—no hail, extra hay, they got most of it in, gardens needed rain. The rain let up as the thunder and lightning moved off to the east. They weren’t going to get the soaking they were hoping for. One of the horses snorted and stamped a foot.

“I’ll unhitch the team and take them on home.”

“Yeah, we’ll get the others.” Haakan stepped outside and looked to the west. “Might drizzle a bit longer, but the main storm’s beyond us. Let’s get going.”

If I’d gotten the corral built, they could stay here
. Another one of those pesky ifs. He hooked the traces up on the rump pad and hupped the horses forward, away from the doubletree and wagon tongue.

“I’ve got the other team,” Trygve called from the back of the barn.

“Let’s go.”

Andrew swung up on one of his team. “Come on, Pa, let’s ride ’em home.”

“You think I’m too old to mount a horse anymore?” Haakan asked.

“Well?”

Haakan grabbed the horns on the collar and swung up. Or rather tried to. His feet slipped, and he straightened back up.

“You want a leg up?” Andrew grinned at his pa.

“Just give me a minute. I’ll make it.”

Lars rode up with the fourth team. “Need some help?”

Haakan glared at them both and swung again, this time hooking his heel in the rump pad and pulling himself up. “Gotten out of practice, I guess.”

“I guess so.” Andrew ducked as Haakan swatted at him with the end of the lines.

Three more days and they’d get the house up. Andrew glanced back over his shoulder. The half load of hay stood forlorn in front of the barn, the only indication someone would be living there soon, other than the hole in the ground with almost all the cellar walls in. For certain he wouldn’t be pouring cement tonight.

“Wonder if they started milking yet.” Haakan pulled his hat farther down on his head as the breeze kicked up.

While at first the rain had felt good, now Andrew shivered from the chilly wind. His shirt lay plastered to his skin. He nudged his team to a trot. “Come on, boys, let’s get on home.”

Three more days and the house goes up
. His thoughts kept time with the clippety-clop of heavy hooves. Three more days and he’d see Ellie. Unless, of course, he unharnessed the team and rode one on into Blessing. But there were cows to milk. Always something needing doing. Keeping him away from Ellie.

The sun was out by the time they’d finished milking.

“Well, it was better than nothing,” Haakan said with a sigh, “but that didn’t do a whole lot more than wash the air clean.”

“At least it didn’t hail,” Andrew added, his thoughts jumping back to Ellie. What was she doing right now? Thinking of him as he was thinking of her?