A Touch of Grace (20 page)

“What are you looking for?” Jonathan asked.

“Spots on her tongue. Looks kind of like big cold sores.”

“Put her in the corral and bring the heifer back here too,” Haakan directed.

“What do you think it is?” Ingeborg asked.

Haakan shook his head. “I hope to heaven it isn’t what I’m thinking. Hoof and mouth disease.”

“But that’s contagious, terribly so,” Andrew said. “Cattle die from it.”

“I know.”

“So what do we do to treat it?”

“I don’t know if there is any treatment.”

Ingeborg heard the despair in his voice. What had she done by buying the cows?

When Grace left the boardinghouse and turned toward home she saw Toby, standing almost as if he’d been waiting for her. In books she’d read about feminine wiles to be used on men. While she was sure Sophie knew what they were, right now she’d give about anything for one.

“Hi, Grace,” he signed. “Can I walk with you a bit?”

She nodded. A little ripple seemed to run through her stomach. Finally he had come to find her.

They walked a while without talking, and then he stopped and turned to look at her.

“Grace, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Oh good
.

“First, I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you. That was no way to treat a friend. But I was so surprised, I wasn’t sure how to act.”

Grace was confused. Did she understand his words correctly? Why would he not know how to act?

“I thought, since we’ve been good friends for a long time, you’d like to be the first to know.”

Already she could tell this wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“I met a woman from Grafton, and I think I’m in love.”

She focused on his chin, unable to get her gaze any higher for fear he’d see the tears fighting to burst forth. “Oh.” She forced herself to at least look at his mouth, so she could see what he was saying, but his fingers continued the signing and she didn’t have to let him see what he was doing to her.

“I wanted to tell you, thanks for being such a good friend all these years. You stood by me, and I value that.”

“I wish you all the blessings you deserve.” She forced herself to smile. “Guess I better get on home, Mor will be wondering where I am, after all she needs help, and I …” She knew she was running on like water from the pump when the wind was blowing the windmill. Unable to get more words past the lump that bounced up from somewhere, she signed good-bye and headed down the road to home. The urge to turn and look at him one more time fought with the tears that coursed down her cheeks. Toby loved someone else. No wonder he was never around. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry herself so dry she’d blow away like dandelion down on a puff of breeze.

Suddenly she realized she was almost home, and Astrid was in front of her. There was no way she could hide her tears.

“Oh, Grace, you’ve already heard. It is so frightening. I don’t remember ever seeing my parents look so worried. What will our families do if it’s true?”

Grace tried to absorb that the breeze she wished for had suddenly become a storm.

H
AYING DIDN’T LET UP
for the tragedy going on around them.

Haakan sent a telegram to the agriculture department at the college in Grand Forks. Ingeborg prayed that the diagnosis was not what they feared, but this time God either didn’t respond or failed to hear. She wasn’t sure which. The reply: It was the dreaded hoof and mouth disease that had wiped out the cattle of entire nations in other parts of the world. While the letter that followed was long and full of statistics, the remedy remained the same. Since the disease was so contagious it could be carried on the wind, the only way to keep it from spreading eastward was to destroy all cloven-hoofed animals.

Reports were trickling in from the west of other outbreaks, but the news did nothing to cheer Ingeborg. She had bought the diseased cattle. Haakan had not wanted more cows, but she had gone ahead anyway. Guilt was a bitter bed partner.

“It would most likely have come here anyway,” Haakan told her more than once, but she couldn’t seem to hear him.

The men were bringing the first load of hay into the barn when the sheriff from Grafton rode into their yard.

“Mornin’, Mr. Bjorklund,” he called from horseback.

Haakan sank the tongs of the hay sling into the hay and signaled for the lift. “Morning.” He slid to the ground and approached the officer. “What can I do for you today?”

The man shook his head. “I hate to do this to you, but I been so ordered. All cloven-hoofed animals are to be destroyed. I see you’ve not started that yet, and every day you resist, the disease can spread further. You got to shoot ’em all and burn or bury the carcasses, and you got to do it now.”

“Has it spread more?”

“We’re hoping to stop it at the river, but you’re not the only one that’s got it. It came from the west. We think from some steers brought up from Texas on a train.” He tipped his hat back. “I got to say, this is about the hardest job I’ve ever had to do.”

“Sheep and pigs too?”

“And goats. What could carry it over is deer. We can stop the transport of cattle, but the wild animals—that’s a different story. I have hunters out shooting all they can find. I know you got to get your hay up, but this has to be taken care of right away.”

“Not much sense in haying if we have nothing to feed it to.” Haakan turned to Andrew. “Go get the guns and ammunition.”

Ingeborg stood back from the others, listening to the sheriff’s edict. Did he not understand he was destroying her cheese house? A good part of their livelihood? And that of their neighbors? Tears rained down her face and choked her throat.

She turned back to the house, one step ahead of Andrew, and marched up the steps. Going to the gun cabinet, she opened the door and handed the rifles back to Andrew. Drawing out the box of bullets, she filled the remaining gun she’d held back.

“You don’t have to do this, Mor.” Andrew’s jaw wore the look of steel.

“Ja, I do.”

“It would have come even if you’d not bought those two. It isn’t your fault. The sheriff said so.”

She nodded and held on to the rifle. “Let’s go.”

Haakan took one look at her face and kept his thoughts to him-self. “We’ll herd them to that depression out in the pasture. Bring some grain, Jonathan. We’ll scatter it so they settle down.”

“What about the sheep?”

“Same thing. We’ll have to shoot the pigs in the pens and haul them out there. I hope Mr. Jeffers has plenty of kerosene. Astrid, take the wagon and go to the store. Get what you can.”

Astrid nodded, rivulets of tears streaking her face. “Where was the sheriff going from here?”

“Calling on all the farmers. He didn’t single us out. Just one of those things that has to be done. Let’s get at it.”

“Can’t we milk first?” Astrid asked.

“It’s too soon. They wouldn’t have enough to make it worth our while. Let’s just get it over with.”

Ingeborg walked beside him, feeling stiff, as though none of her joints wanted to bend. The rifle hung heavy in her hand.

Jonathan brought two buckets of oats from the grain bin and joined the group. His face looked frozen cold. They stopped at the fence to see the milk cows grazing, the scene peaceful like any other day. Gunshots resounded in the distance. Some of the cows smelled the grain and ambled over to the free meal, a few of them limping. Several looked but didn’t bother to get up. Barney barked and nipped them until they staggered to their feet and over to the rest.

Within five minutes, the entire herd lay dead. Barney and Andrew brought out the sheep, and in spite of their milling and bleating, they dropped at the volley.

Ingeborg threw down her rifle and headed for the house.
Lord,
this is too much. You’ve taken away it all. I thought you were a merciful
God and protected your people. We have tried to do what you say, but this
is too much
. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared through her tears at the floor. Now the shots were coming from the barns, Andrew’s barn and Lars’, where they kept the weaned calves.

The stench of burning flesh hung over the region in a pall of smoke.

Pastor Solberg called a special service to try to comfort his people.

“I can’t go,” Ingeborg told him when he came by to announce it.

“Yes you can. And you will.” He took her hand. “God has promised to walk through the valley with us. While this is not our own death, this is surely a valley of death, and He is here, right in the midst.”

Ingeborg shook her head. “I can’t find Him.”

“No, but He is finding you. Just like He is finding all of us. He has seen us through floods and blizzards, through sickness and despair. God has said, ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ He never changes. He lives up to His Word.” Pastor Solberg looked her in the eye. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at seven.”

“Huh, you might as well make it earlier. We don’t have any chores to do.” She turned away and set each leaden foot on the next step up.

The next day she filled and set the last cheese presses. Granted that while she had a lot of cheese for this time of the year, the house would not be full come fall. And after she filled the orders, there would be no more.

When the paper came out that day, Thorliff had written an article about the catastrophe and the far-reaching effects. The government had decreed that all cloven-footed animals be destroyed west of the Mississippi River and east of the Rocky Mountains and that there be no cattle imported or transported. The Red River hadn’t stopped it.

The people of Blessing gathered at the church only due to Pastor Solberg’s insistence. With eyes red-rimmed from the smoke, the men removed their hats and nodded to one another as they sat down. Women held the little children on their laps, and the older ones sat silently beside them. Mrs. Valders glared at Ingeborg.

When it looked like everyone was gathered, Pastor Solberg stood up and moved to the center in front of the carved altar, Bible in his hands. “Dearly beloved, let us hear what the Word of God says to us.” He flipped pages and began reading. “Isaiah 43:2: ‘When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”’

When he stopped, he closed his Bible. “Let us pray, and tonight I ask that those of you who are able, to please pray aloud, so that we can all be blessed. I’ll begin and then you join in.” He paused and the rustlings settled. “Lord God, heavenly Father, we have heard your word of promise and mercy. You have promised to restore the years of the locust. We’ve lived through those, and you have restored us. This horror is like unto another locust, taking what we have built and burning it away. But our hearts are on you and your kingdom, where moth cannot make holes, nor can disease, where rust does not destroy any earthly thing. We are your children, the people of your kingdom. Heal and restore us, O Lord, we pray.”

Ingeborg heard someone sniffing and mopped her own eyes.
Lord,
these were your cattle, hogs, sheep, and goats. Your hills around here are
now empty. I know you can restore, but right now I’m not sure you will
choose to
.