Blessing in Disguise (23 page)

“I guess.”

As he danced the next one with Ingeborg, she asked, “When’s Metiz coming back? Have you heard?”

“No. But soon. She said before the snow flies.”

“Good. I miss her. Penny said she would pay for any smoked geese you could provide the store. Bridget says the same with the boardinghouse.”

“So I can hunt instead of school?”

Ingeborg laughed. “I don’t think so. With your new gun, you can knock down a whole flock in one evening.”

When the fiddles and guitars quieted, Haakan stood in front of the remaining friends. “Well, Lars and me and all the others sure do feel welcomed home. Thank you all for coming, and we’ll see you in church in the morning.”

“Mor,” Andrew said when she tucked him into bed. “Do I have to ask for forgiveness for . . . for . . .”

“Hitting Toby in the nose? Yes.”

Andrew sighed.

“Does he have to ask forgiveness for being mean to Mr. Sam’s little kids?”

“I’m sure his mother is taking care of that, and the answer is yes.”

“Does he have to say sorry to them?”

“I hope so.”

“Do I have to say sorry to
him
?”

Ingeborg closed her eyes, then slowly nodded. “Yes, son, I believe you do.”

Andrew groaned. “I
hate
saying sorry.”

“Then don’t do anything you have to feel sorry about.”
Ah, such an easy thing to say and so hard to do
. Ingeborg’s mind flew back to the baby she lost because the team spooked.
If only sorry made everything all right again. But it doesn’t. Too often we just have to live with it
. She leaned over and kissed Andrew on the forehead. “You will be polite in church.” It wasn’t a question.

Andrew understood. He crossed his arms under the covers. “Yes, Mor.”

Ingeborg made her way down the stairs, wondering what would happen next. Somehow she had a feeling this little fiasco wasn’t over yet.

Chapter 21

Hjelmer’s Quest
Last half of September

“Did you see a woman about five foot nine with golden hair get off here?”

“When?” The stationmaster of Valley City, North Dakota, stared up from under his green visor. From the looks of the office, he did double duty as the telegraph agent.

“On September first, give a day or two either way. Her name is Miss Augusta Bjorklund. She’s my sister, her eyes blue like mine.”

The man behind the counter shook his head. “I would sure to have noticed her. No women by themselves been through here in ages.”

“Thanks.” Hjelmer turned away.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks again. I think I need more like a miracle.” Hjelmer didn’t want to count the times he’d played out this scene. Sometimes the agent scratched his head before shaking it. One man squinted his eyes in deep thinking, but the final answer was still the same. No one had seen Augusta on this line. He had one more stop to go, and then it was back to St. Paul on the next train.

Perhaps when they connected again, he’d learn that Henry had better luck.

God, I think this has gone on long enough. I am sick and tired of traipsing around the countryside looking for a woman who seems to have vanished off the face of the earth. If I don’t hear or learn something in the next two days, I’m going home
.

He swung back aboard the train as the conductor cried, “All aboard.”

He was sick of hearing that too. How could Henry put up with all the noise and the people and the rackety rocking of the train itself? He sank into a window seat and sighed.
Lord, I just want to go home
.

Back in St. Paul he checked with the stationmaster to find out when Henry would return from the run to Lake Superior. When the man said not until evening, Hjelmer decided to visit a couple of machinery places to see what the latest farm equipment was. One thing he’d noticed south of St. Paul was a tall framework with wooden paddles in a circle and one that looked like a rudder. He figured it had something to do with wind power and wanted to learn more.

He left the station and caught a trolley, watching the passing parade of horses pulling every type of conveyance known to man, from carts pulled by a single pony to drays with six up. The noise made his ears ring.

At the John Deere dealer, he wandered among plows and mowers, binders and threshers. He stopped at the massive steam tractor and shook his head. Hard to believe that people really thought that ten-foot-tall, two-ton monstrosity would ever replace horsepower in the fields. Although he had to admit the steam engine Haakan had did a great job powering both sawmill and thresher. But horses still had to pull it to get from place to place.

This tractor pulled itself.

“You want me to start it up so you can see for yourself?” one of the salesmen asked. “That’s made by Case out of Racine, Wisconsin. John Deere hasn’t made one yet.”

Hjelmer shook his head. “No thanks. I’ve seen a demonstration already.” He scratched his chin. “You sell many of those?”

“More each year. You don’t have to feed them all winter, you know. And the power! Why, one tractor takes the place of ten horses, and it don’t get tired by noon either. Long as you keep the steam up, this tractor keeps on rolling.” He slapped the rounded metal that housed the man-tall, cleated-steel wheels. “You mark my words, farming with horses and oxen is on the way out. One day every farmer will have a tractor or two. Think how fast your fields would get plowed with one tractor pulling a four-bottom plow. You can buy either a straw burner or a coal burner.”

“Ja, and when that boiler blows up, it kills everyone within fifty feet.” Hjelmer had read of a steam engine that did just that. “And it takes two men to run it.” He shook his head again. “Think I’ll stay with horse-drawn for a while longer.” He pointed over at a seed drill.

“Tell me some about that piece. Looks like there’s been lots of improvements since last year. Maybe it’s time to start stocking those.”

As they moved from machine to machine, Hjelmer took notes on a pad of paper he’d brought for just this purpose. “Oh, and what do you know about those tall rigs with paddles in a circle on top that I’ve been seeing from the train? What are they used for?

“They are windmills. They harness the wind to pump water from your well. You can keep your stock tanks full now without ever pumping again.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Hjelmer looked around. “You carry them?”

“Nope. Wish we did, but you’ll find a dealer about half a mile down the road. Different companies make their own model. Folks jumping on the bandwagon like crazy. Some of the funniest-lookin’ rigs you ever want to see.” The man shook his head. “But they work.

Man, do they work.”

“Well, thank you for your time. Think I’ll go learn about windmills. Since the wind almost always blows in the Red River Valley, they might be a good thing to stock.”

An hour later he had purchased four fans with vanes and ordered gearboxes, along with shafts that went down in the wells. He figured Haakan and Lars would produce the lumber to build the towers for now, but steel framework was the coming thing. He could hardly wait to get home and show Haakan the new contraptions and the diagrams for the towers. If he knew his farmers, there’d be windmills sprouting in the valley like sunflowers in the spring.

But first he had to find Augusta.

He caught the trolley back to the railroad station, hoping Henry had returned. He was there waiting for him.

“Hjelmer, I got good news for you.” Henry wore a smile that near to cracked his face.

“Good thing. We’re about due for good news.”

“I think your sister got on one of the southern spur lines. McDonnell, the usual conductor on that line, has been off sick and just came back.” Henry flashed Hjelmer a delighted grin. “He thinks he remembers your sister, though he ain’t sure.”

“So let’s go talk to him.”

“Well, that ain’t so easy. He left half an hour ago and won’t be back until tomorrow.”

Hjelmer groaned. “Why didn’t I come back here earlier?”

Blessing

“So when do you think Hjelmer will be home?” Agnes Baard continued to cut out the cookies with the new cookie cutter Sam had made for them, this one in the shape of a diamond.

Penny opened the oven door and leaned down to check the doneness of the molasses cookies already baking. “I wish I knew.”

The plaintive tone drew Agnes’s attention from the rolled dough to her niece. “You still aren’t with child?”

“No! And how I ever will be without Hjelmer home more than a day or two at a time is beyond me. Making babies does take two, you know.” Penny closed the oven door with a bit more force than necessary. “I think he has a wandering foot, or rather, in his case, both feet. You watch, he’ll come home all excited about some new piece of machinery that he just happened to learn about in St. Paul when he was
supposed
to be looking for his sister. You watch.”

Agnes only made an agreeing sound and went back to her cookies. With the second pan full, she motioned Penny to open the oven door so she could slide it onto the bottom rack. “I think that first pan is done.”

Penny half smiled. “I bet you wish you’d not said anything.”

“Better to get it out with me than let it fester and explode all over Hjelmer when he does come home.”

“Do I do that?”

“I reckon so. We all do.”

Penny lifted the round lid on the fire side of the stove and inserted two chunks of wood, then adjusted the damper again.

“I’ve heard tell that the more you worry about not having a baby, the less chance there will be to have one. Some folks just take longer than others. That’s the way of it.”

“You don’t think God is punishing me, then?” Penny stared at the stove, her back to her aunt. If there’d been any other noise, Agnes wouldn’t have heard the question, Penny’s voice dropped so much.

“Pshaw. Whatever for?” Agnes gathered the bits of dough together and rolled out the last round.

“Oh, things like wanting the best store in the Red River Valley, being proud of my sewing machines, getting mad at Hjelmer—I can think of all kinds of things.” She looked over her shoulder without turning around.

“Are you putting those things before Jesus?”

“I don’t think so, but . . .”

“I know. It’s hard to tell at times.”

The bell tinkled above the front store door, calling Penny back to work.

“Mmm, something sure smells good.” Pastor Solberg sniffed again and smiled at Penny. “You’ve been baking.”

“How can you tell?” Penny glanced down. She knew she’d changed her apron just before she walked through the doorway.

“Flour on your chin.” He pointed to his own chin to show her where.

“Thanks. How was school today?”

Solberg rolled his eyes. “I might have to stuff a rag in Toby’s mouth and tie Andrew to his seat.”

“Oh-oh. Now what?”

“Just a carry-over from the party the other night. All the other children can accept our two new ones, but Toby and Jerry come from a whole different background.”

“Have you talked with Sam and Eulah about this yet?”

“No one was at home. I thought to catch Sam here, but he’s not in the smithy either. Is Eulah over helping at the boardinghouse?”

Penny shook her head. “What do you think I am, the town keeper? Can’t find someone, ask Penny?”

“Seems that way, doesn’t it?”

“God dag, Pastor.” Agnes came into the store, carrying a plate of still-warm molasses cookies. “Thought we’d get a third opinion on these. New recipe.” She held out the plate.

John Solberg took one and after one bite said, “You better keep them under lock and key if you want any left by tomorrow. What’s different?”

“Applesauce.”

“Maybe we should have put sugar on top.” Penny took a cookie too. “Of course what these really need is a cup of coffee.”

“I wish. But I better get on my way. Maybe Sam is over helping Olaf.” At Agnes’s invitation, he took a couple more cookies and went out the door.

“Let’s get some paper cut, and I’ll make you some more of the bags. Maybe Ellie would like to come over and help me now that school is out.”