More Than a Dream (41 page)
Ingeborg thought of how Astrid would love to see her big brother and how surprised he would be at how grown up she’d become. She put away her writing things, not wanting to have to tell Astrid she had for sure decided not to go. If only they could travel in the wintertime, when the farm chores were so much less demanding. But then school kept them home. Not that she wanted to be like Hjelmer, who seemed to be gone most of the time.
She thought back to what Penny had said about that.
‘‘Why
can’t he be content with our store and selling machinery and even
blacksmithing again?’’
She didn’t like her husband being involved in politics.
Ingeborg sighed. So many questions for which she had no answers.
‘‘Mor, guess what?’’ Astrid burst through the door with a slam.
‘‘What?’’
‘‘Onkel Olaf is thinking of moving.’’
‘‘No!’’
‘‘That’s what Mrs. Valders said to Mrs. Magron.’’
‘‘Were you eavesdropping?’’
‘‘No, well, yes. Well, sort of. But it isn’t eavesdropping is it when you would have to clap your hands over your ears to not hear. And besides, they were in the store, and I was in Tante Penny’s kitchen, so—’’
‘‘All right, you weren’t eavesdropping, and’’—Ingeborg shook the grate in the stove—‘‘I expect you won’t tell anyone else what you heard.’’
‘‘No, but Mor, did you know about it?’’
Ingeborg shook her head. ‘‘But I wouldn’t take that as gospel truth. You know how rumors can spread.’’
‘‘All right. But if Ellie has to move away, Andrew won’t be fit to live with.’’
‘‘Then you better make sure you are not the one to worry him.’’
‘‘I won’t. Did you pick the eggs?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘I will. Do you have any scraps for the chickens?’’
‘‘In the bucket on the porch.’’ Surely Penny would have said something if this were indeed true.
Oh Lord, poor Andrew. He and
Ellie Wold have been like two peas in a pod for . . . well, forever, it
seems. What will he do if she leaves?
The summer passed without further notice of anyone moving, other than to find the nearest shade. Crops were good, and for a change, the weather cooperated with just enough sun and rain. Other than Mrs. Valders still refusing to speak to Ingeborg, all was well.
After church one Sunday, Kaaren shook her head. ‘‘Doesn’t she realize she is just making a fool of herself?’’
Hildegunn Valders had just then turned away when Ingeborg greeted her. For a long time Ingeborg had just ignored the silences, but now she made it a point to greet Hildegunn, and not just with a smile and a nod.
Ingeborg looked across the gathering to where people were visiting and children were running and playing. ‘‘Isn’t there an old saw about killing someone with kindness?’’ Ingeborg’s right eyebrow lifted slightly.
‘‘I take it that will be your campaign?’’
‘‘That and a commitment to pray for her every day.’’
‘‘Where did this all come about?’’ The two made their way back to their wagons.
‘‘I guess it was God’s idea, and He shared it with me.’’
August 10, 1896
Dear Thorliff,
Harvest is about to begin. The wheat is heavy and looks to be a wonderful harvest, as long as nothing happens before we get it in.
Mrs. Valders has yet to speak to me since my terrible outburst of last winter. Everyone pretty much ignores the way she acts, and I continue to pray for her. One has only to look at her face to know that she is a very unhappy woman.
Astrid had hoped something miraculous would allow us to come to Northfield, but then, I know she has written you herself. At the rate she is growing, I shall soon be the shortest one in our family. I am glad your weeks of running the paper went so well. You proved to yourself how very capable you are, something I was already convinced was true.
George McBride has agreed to take charge of the milking so that Andrew may at last go along with the threshing crew. He is so excited, as you can well guess.
We had a letter from Manda. She is in the family way again and will not be coming with the horses this year, nor will Baptiste. I shall miss seeing them.
That is all the news for now. Know always that I love you.
Your mor
‘‘Mor, I never thought I’d miss Andrew so much.’’ Lamplight cast a circle around Astrid’s head as she sat at the kitchen table writing a letter to Thorliff as her mother did the same.
‘‘I know.’’
‘‘I mean, I miss Pa every harvest season, but Andrew has always been here.’’ She tapped the end of the pencil on her teeth. ‘‘Do you think they miss us like we miss them?’’
‘‘Most likely not. They are seeing new places and different people. They work so hard, there isn’t much time for being homesick.’’
‘‘How come they don’t write us a letter?’’
‘‘Too busy.’’
‘‘Andrew had time to write Ellie a letter.’’
‘‘Ah, but that is different.’’
‘‘A friend is more important than your own and only sister?’’
‘‘Not more important, just different.’’ Ingeborg turned her head to hide her smile. ‘‘Finish your letter and we’ll make fudge.’’
‘‘Really?’’ Astrid bent her head back to her paper and signed with a flourish. ‘‘I didn’t have any more to say anyway.’’
Would that life were that easy,
Ingeborg thought.
Haakan, I do
wish you would write. No matter how well I handle things here, I
need to hear from you
.
Chicago, Illinois
October 1896
Looking back, Elizabeth could not believe how fast the year had flown.
‘‘So are you ready?’’ Dr. Morganstein asked.
‘‘As I’ll ever be.’’ Elizabeth straightened her gown and patted the upsweep of her hair.
‘‘Then let us begin.’’ Dr. Morganstein gave the signal and all the medical students began filing into the room reserved for them at the Plaza Hotel in Chicago. When the last of the eighteen doctors in training cleared the doorway, Elizabeth smiled at her trainer and friend. ‘‘After you.’’
Dr. Morganstein walked past the rows of seats where her students sat and continued up to the platform to join Dr. Fossden. Elizabeth followed ten paces behind her. While the next graduating class would have nine members, she walked alone. Before taking her place on the aisle, she smiled at her parents and at Thorliff sitting beside them, at Dr. Gaskin and his new wife, the former Nurse Browne, and Thornton Wickersham, who had returned from the mission field to recover his health, and at another of her benefactresses, Issy Josephson.
The ceremony passed in a blur, as did the legal conferring upon her of the title of Doctor of Medicine. When she accepted her diploma, the audience applauded.
‘‘Dr. Elizabeth Rogers is our first graduate.’’ Dr. Morganstein looked down at the students. ‘‘Next year, God willing, we will see nine more walk across the platform. We live by our creed of ‘See one, do one, teach one.’ You second-year students will teach the first-year students, and so it goes. And as our school grows, so will the medical care provided to our great country. May God bless us all.’’ Smiling as she looked out over the attentive audience, she said, ‘‘You are dismissed.’’
Everyone clustered around Elizabeth, congratulating her and wishing her great success.
‘‘But I’ll still be at the hospital,’’ she said with a bubble of laughter. ‘‘At least until the holidays, which I will spend with my family this year and then return. You can’t get rid of me that easily.’’ She smiled over at Dr. Morganstein, who stood with her parents and friends.
Not that you’ve tried very hard
. The thought brought another smile. Dr. Morganstein was getting her wish of having Elizabeth become a part of the hospital staff—at least for a time.
At dinner an hour or so later, Elizabeth joined her family and friends, taking the empty chair between Thornton and Thorliff at a long table.
‘‘You’re not here to try to talk me into going to Africa, are you?’’
‘‘No. I came because I wanted to congratulate you for accomplishing your dream.’’
‘‘All the way from Africa?’’ Thorliff looked over Elizabeth’s head to ask.
‘‘No. I was sent home to regain my health. The bugs there seem to like me, and my body really detests them.’’
‘‘What did you have?’’ Elizabeth switched into doctor mode.
‘‘Things that are not appropriate for dinner conversation.’’
‘‘Oh. Will you go back?’’
‘‘I don’t know. I found I learn languages very quickly. I might be of more help in translating the Scriptures into Swahili or another major language so at least those who can read, can read the Bible to those who can’t. Right now I am not sure how the Lord plans to use me.’’
‘‘But your health is better?’’
He shrugged. ‘‘I am feeling much improved.’’
‘‘That is good.’’ Elizabeth resisted the urge to take his wrist and check his pulse. He looked so gray that if he was now much improved, what had he looked like before? And what had he contracted in the dark continent, where strange and horrifying diseases seemed to proliferate like mosquitoes in a swamp?
She glanced up to catch Dr. Gaskin’s eye. ‘‘So, dear Doctor, when did you finally gain your wits enough to marry Nurse Browne?’’
‘‘
Tsk, tsk
. And here I thought medical school might teach you to curb your tongue.’’ He smiled at the beaming woman beside him. ‘‘But to answer your question, I don’t know why I wasted all that time.’’ He patted Matilda’s hand lying on the table. ‘‘I feel like I have a whole new lease on life.’’ He looked straight at Elizabeth. ‘‘So much so that I rescind my offer for you to take over my practice. I would be honored if you would join me, but I’m not ready to give up the harness yet.’’
‘‘Bravo. I’m glad to hear that, because I plan to stay in Chicago for at least a few more months.’’
‘‘She’ll be with me forever if I have anything to say about it.’’ Dr. Morganstein spoke from the head of the table on the opposite side of Thorliff.
Dr. Gaskin leaned forward. ‘‘Would the idea of a hospital in Northfield make a difference in how you feel?’’
Elizabeth laid down her fork. ‘‘Really?’’
‘‘We are working toward that end. My small surgery with three beds is just not enough. We even thought of putting more beds in the parlor, but I’m kind of partial to that parlor now that I have someone to sit in it with me.’’
‘‘We’ve been talking with Dr. Johanson and the city fathers. There is a great deal of interest.’’ Mrs. Gaskin turned to smile at her husband.
Elizabeth recognized the love in her eyes. How wonderful for them both. Her thoughts took off. All this past year of exchanging letters with Thorliff, she had been given the chance to look into his soul and realize even more what a fine man he was. No wonder her father thought so highly of him. Not only did he have a good mind, but he was a godly man of character. True, he wasn’t as polished in the social graces as Thornton, but he learned quickly and, unless his head was lost in a story, usually had a good sense of humor.
Are you comparing the two?
The thought caught her by surprise.
Not in the least, just finishing out an idea
. Besides, they were both just good friends. After all, that was what men would be in her life, just good friends.
