An Untamed Heart (17 page)

He smiled and raised his cup in salute as he drank. Setting it on the floor beside him, he leaned against his pillows. “I have two sisters. I am the oldest in the family. One year younger than I is Amalia. She tried very hard to take care of me after my first accident, but I was not a good patient. I am afraid I tried her patience, but you would never know that. She is the perfect lady, much like our mor. Katja is much younger than Amalia, and at twelve would rather be outside than anywhere in the house. She is much like me and likes the mountains and hiking and skiing in the winter. She is a fine ice skater too.

“Far expects me to take over the family shipping business, but Amalia is the one who secretly would give the world if Far would allow her to work in his business. Instead, she is forced to use her skills in organizing various benefits. She is living up to Mor’s belief that helping the poor is one reason businesses make money. She does not just sip tea and gossip, as many of the wealthy ladies do. Amalia’s benefits make money to provide useful things like food and shelter for orphans and widows.”

“You admire your sister.”

“I do. She is doing something important with her life.”

What a pleasure it was to talk with a man who had both a sense of humor and an interest in many things. What would it be like to attend a school again? To ask questions and exchange ideas?

And would it ever be possible for her to do? Of course not. And yet, the hope remained.

The next day Ingeborg and Gunlaug worked on the cheese together. Using the big jars made especially for this job, they
poured all the saved cream to fill the jars and set them close enough to the fire to heat slowly. Then they poured the heated cream into the waiting pans and let them set until well curdled, looking more like a solid pudding than cheese.

After taking a break to check on Nils, Ingeborg said, “Guess I better get the curd cut and hung. Gunlaug, do you want to help me with the cheesecloth?” Together they cut the pans of slightly yellow curd into about two-inch squares and scooped it into cheesecloth bags to hang from hooks above the pans. When they finally got all the curds dripping, they dumped the whey into milk cans to be hauled to the barn for feeding the pigs and chickens, all of which thrived on the liquid poured over their feed.

“I think we need a cup of coffee, don’t you?” Gunlaug stacked the pans for washing. They already had the cream heating by the fire again. The process would continue all through the summer.

“Out on the bench?” The bench on the other side of the house faced the mountains and had been Ingeborg’s favorite spot for years.

“Of course. Then I’ll wash the pans and you can either weave or spin,” Gunlaug suggested.

“During the day? How slothful.” Shock struck her. She sounded just like her mor. Even when she was teasing.

“I will need yarn for the loom before long, you know. Who else knows how to spin?”

“I know Mari can and Kari would like to learn weaving. Perhaps Hamme?”

“She’s too young.”

“One is never too young to learn to spin. You needn’t have a long reach to control the shuttle.” They stopped in front
of the fire, and Ingeborg used her apron to protect her hands as she pulled the pot free to pour. She glanced over at their guest, who was now sleeping again, this time his book on his chest. Perhaps soon he would be able to go outside. Having to stay inside was beginning to grate on him. She could tell by the way he stared out the window. What must it feel like to be so bound by injuries?

Or social convention?

“Couldn’t we have church after we go up to the lake?”

“Why can’t we have church up there?”

Ingeborg listened to their pleas. Why not have church up at the lake? Worshiping on the banks of the lake sounded like a heavenly idea. She always felt closer to God out in His natural creation. She gave an emphatic nod. “Yes.” She had to raise her voice to be heard above the cheers. “So get your chores done, and we’ll pack the food.”

“We might have fresh fish.” Anders grinned.

“All depends on if they are biting yet. Remember, that’s a higher elevation than we are here. So we’ll take food.”

“And coals to start a fire?”

“You don’t want to just take flint and tinder?”

Mari shook her head. “Coals are much faster. Do you think the fire ring is still in place?”

“We’ll rebuild it if not.” The thought of fresh trout made her mouth water. Like the dandelion greens, fresh trout bespoke the change of seasons.

The others scattered out the door, and she went to the
springhouse to check on the curd they’d started the night before. Surely it could all wait until later today or even tomorrow, since working on Sunday was against God’s law. But taking care of animals never stopped.

“We have baby pigs,” Hjelmer hollered from the barn.

So much for checking the curd. Ingeborg headed for the barn to join Hjelmer and some of the others leaning on the gate. Hjelmer had checked on the sow in the middle of the night, but nothing had been going on. “How many?”

“Nine alive. One dead.” Hjelmer pointed to the board nailed across two of the corners, just high enough off the floor for the babies to slip under, a safe place where there was less chance of the sow lying on them. However, this old girl, in pig years, was such a good mother that Ingeborg was sure she’d counted her babies before lying down.

The sow lay sound asleep, her babies mounded just in front of her back legs, close to the teats. A pig pile described them best of all. Seeing new babies like that—well, new babies of any kind—delighted Ingeborg clear to her toes and deep within her soul. No wonder she wanted to be a midwife.

“I’ll go fix her some warm mash,” Ingeborg said.

“It seems a shame to disturb them all, they are sleeping so peacefully,” Gunlaug commented. “I wonder if they have all nursed yet.”

“I don’t know,” Hjelmer said. “The dead one was still in the sack. I threw it and the afterbirth out on the manure pile.”

Ingeborg nodded and heaved a sigh as she turned to leave. A thought struck her; someone should stay at the seter to make sure their patient was taken care of. Please, God, let someone volunteer. She did not want to pick one.

Back at the springhouse, she made sure the door was latched and returned to the house, where Mari was packing food into a basket.

“Can I talk with you a minute?” Nils asked.

When Ingeborg stopped beside him, he said, “I have a feeling you are thinking someone needs to stay here with me. Leave me water to drink and something to eat, and all of you go enjoy the lake. I just wish I were going along, but I will keep busy. I need to write a letter to my parents.”

“Funny you should say that.” Ingeborg thought about it. Something inside her said no. She started to answer when Hjelmer stopped beside her.

“I don’t think I better go along.” He smiled down at Nils. “I want to keep an eye on that sow, make sure the babies learn to go into the corners. I don’t want another one to die.”

Bless you, my brother
. Ingeborg looked at him. “Are you sure?”

“You know we don’t leave a sow alone after she farrows. It’s just not good farming.”

She could hear her father’s words coming out of her brother’s mouth. He might not be as tall as the others yet, but his sense of responsibility far outstripped his years. She nodded. “You are right. Takk for thinking like that. I just hate to have you miss the fun.”

“Do you have a checkerboard up here?” Nils asked.

“Yes, somewhere, I imagine.”

“I wouldn’t mind a game of checkers or—”

“Chess?”

“That too.”

Hjelmer nodded with a wide smile. “I will find them. I can play a game or two and keep watch on the sow too. Shame
you cannot make it out to the barn yet.” He thought a moment. “You ever seen newborn piglets?”

“No, can’t say as I have.”

Ingeborg left the two of them talking and took her wide-brimmed hat off the wall peg. “Are the rest of you ready?” At the chorus of assents she headed out the door, basket in hand. Mari followed with another, and off across the valley they went. Some walked, some ran ahead and then back, and some trailed along, studying the plants along the path, rocks, and other such things.

“Maybe we will find a branch or something we can turn into a crutch for Nils.” Anders hung back with Ingeborg. “He should be able to be up and around pretty soon, shouldn’t he? I’d go crazy staying inside and lying in the same place for all this time.”

“Hmm.” Ingeborg knitted her brow. “Our next job is to help him up to sit in a chair. Perhaps somehow we can carry him and the chair outside.”

“Or we could carry the pallet outside.” Anders scrunched his mouth around, thinking hard. “We carried him in.”

“If his ribs are well enough, we could help him to his feet, and Tor and Anders could be his crutches.”

“If he can ignore the pain, that would be the easiest way,” Kari said, joining the conversation.

Ingeborg smiled. All these fresh ideas from fresh minds.

“I’m sure he would appreciate any ideas. I can tell he is getting restless and trying not to complain.” Mari handed Tor the basket. “You carry this for a while. That fishing line isn’t very heavy.”

Tor scowled and hauled the basket two-handed.

“Don’t swing it around. The tin of coals is in there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He released the basket with one hand to salute, as if she’d given him an order.

Mari started to say something but instead just shook her head.

When Tor strode on ahead, Ingeborg and Gunlaug looked at each other and raised their eyebrows. One minute they kind of liked the young man and the next, felt more like smacking him.

“Did you bring some of your Bible pages?” she asked.

Ingeborg nodded.

As the track grew steeper, their pace slowed. Ingeborg was wishing she had brought one of the remaining walking staves. An idea leaped up. That was what they could use for a crutch. Cut it the right length to fit under Nils’s arm and wrap a short piece across the top. Well padded, it should work.

“Look up there.” Anders handed his sack off to Gunlaug and climbed up the bank. He held up a long branch. “Is this straight enough, you think?” He dragged it down the hill and measured it against his side. “It’s too short. Sure is a nice piece of wood, though.”

Ingeborg looked ahead to see where Tor was. Since the path turned up ahead, she couldn’t see him. “Did you tell him which arm of the Y to take?”

No one answered.

“Remember, he has our food.”

“I’ll go catch him.” Hamme took off running.

Ingeborg and Gunlaug chuckled together.

“We haven’t had any time to really talk.” Ingeborg turned and looked back the way they had come. The seter below them looked like children’s toys left out in the sun. The sheep grazed in the fenced small pasture, since no one had taken
them out to find better grass. The cows were lying down, and the horses were standing in the shade of the barn. She stopped just to enjoy the scenery. For a change, no one had to hurry to do anything. Time like this was rare.

Back on the climb, they rounded a corner, and Hamme and Tor were sitting on a rock waiting.

Relief felt good. They all took the right arm of the Y that seemed to go straight up. But just over the ridge they could see the lake below, sparkling a welcome in the sunlight.

Ingeborg and Gunlaug paused, their faces creased in joy. So beautiful.

Hamme stopped with them. “Do you think the fish are biting?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Don’t be silly. She is always hungry.” Gunlaug snorted.

“Well, not all of the time.” Hamme looked up at her sister. “Sometimes I’m sleeping.”

Giggling, they followed the boys, who were already halfway down the switchback trail.

“The fire pit is good. We’ll go find tinder,” Anders shouted back to them.

Ingeborg, Gunlaug, and Kari settled onto the smooth stones that served as benches and let the others start a fire and set a pot of water to boiling for the coffee. Soon Mari joined them.

“I’m going to see if the fish are biting,” Anders called, and the girls waved in response.

Ingeborg lifted her face to the sun, eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the lake—wavelets lapping the shore, birds singing and two jays scolding above them, the wind sharing secrets with the crags, and children laughing and shouting.
The mountain music filled Ingeborg with such joy, it leaked out her eyes and down her cheeks. She sniffed but never opened her eyes.

Her mind roamed the lake and the ring of mountains, and as she took deep breaths, she could feel the tightness drain out of her shoulders and her entire body.
Tusen, tusen takk for bringing us to this place. Your beauty makes me cry and reminds me you are indeed my God. You have to love us a lot to have created such . . . such . . . I don’t have the words. I lift up my eyes to your mountains and my spirit dances and sings, and all I want to do is to worship you, to be the woman you have planned for me to be. Lord God, I am so far from that woman, I can never be her, unless you do it. How and who and when?
She kept her eyes closed, listening to the music around her. Listening inside.
I love you
, came a whisper.
I love you
. The whisper circled around her, filling her eyes and her soul.
I love you. You are mine. I love you.

Ingeborg fought the tears, but that was like trying to stop the lake from sparkling. So she let them flow, watering her gratitude that could not find words to express. Only the tears. A soft hand touched her shoulder. When she opened her eyes and sniffed, she almost expected to see the hand of God there, but it was Gunlaug.

“Are you all right?”

“Oh, Gunlaug, I am so much finer than all right. Takk.” She laid her hand over Gunlaug’s. Perhaps for now, this was the hand of God. She took a soft cloth out of her pocket and blew her nose. Sighing with contentment, she allowed her eyes to drift closed again until she heard Gunlaug whispering.

“Look at the heron over there.”

Kari leaned forward, and Ingeborg opened her eyes. A gray blob at the top of a stately stick stood motionless until, with a flash, he scooped up a small fish, gulping it down in two swallows.

A pair of ducks dabbled in the shallow weeds just offshore.

Ingeborg locked her hands around one knee and rocked backward.

“Don’t fall,” Mari cautioned.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” She smiled a dreamy smile at her sister. “You think God had a good time creating this scene? I think He must have. Who else could come up with such blues and greens and shapes and variety?”

Gunlaug mimicked her friend and cousin’s actions. “I chose the Psalm 46 verses to memorize this week.”

“What a good idea. Did you know then that we were coming up here?”

“Nei. It just seemed appropriate.” Gunlaug inhaled and a grin split her face. “Smell the coffee.”

Kari nodded. “I pulled it back; it should be ready soon. I’m going to walk that way for a while. Mari, do you want to come with me?”

“Of course, but not for long. My stomach is complaining.” As was Mari, obviously.

Ingeborg replied, “It wants food, not just coffee. You two go ahead and run along. We’ll eat when you come back.”

As the two ran off, Ingeborg returned her attention to the lake. “I am so grateful Hjelmer volunteered to stay at the seter. Otherwise I was going to have to.”

“You could have asked one of us, you know.”

“I know, but everyone was so looking forward to getting away.” She spotted more ducks swimming out in the lake and
counted to ten. There would soon be ducklings swimming behind their mors.

“He likes you, you know.”

“Who?” Ingeborg’s eye brows arched high.

“Nils, silly. He follows you with his eyes whenever you are in the house.”

“He is just grateful we saved him.”

“No, I know the difference. He is really . . . I think he is falling in love with you.”

“Oh, Gunlaug, don’t be a silly romantic. You see love everywhere.”

“Maybe that is why I recognize it, and you turn a blind eye.”

Ingeborg planted her feet firmly back on the ground. “He is a son of wealth and city and business and society, and I am a farmer’s daughter from a small village. He would no more fall in love with me than . . . than that heron would become a duck.” Words were not enough. “Gunlaug, do not ever mention this to anyone. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, but you wait. You’ll see. He is everything you have always said you wanted in a man. He is educated, loves to discuss stuff we never even think about—well, you do but not the rest of us. He makes you laugh, and you make him laugh. You have to admit, he is one very good-looking man. Just wait until he gets to shave and bathe, and if he were to wear good clothes, you would be surprised.”