A Dream to Follow (16 page)

No rain nor even rain clouds.

Every day the men studied the western sky. Would this be a repeat of the drought years? Although harvest had been good in 1890, many had still not recovered from two years of harvest so poor it hardly fed the animals. No wheat to ship meant no money for the year—nor any to pay on mortgages.

The community-owned First Bank of Blessing had not foreclosed on anyone, but there was no money available for new loans. At the meetings, Hjelmer Bjorklund, who ran the bank, predicted dire consequences if no one added money to their accounts or repaid their loans.

“So the bank does not make a large profit this year.” Ingeborg, whose cheese house was the only thriving business in the area, remained standing after her comment. “Our return of interest will not be as much, but there will be no talk of closing the doors.”

“Amen to that.” Penny, store owner and Singer sewing machine representative, stood beside her sister-in-law. “We operate on a cash basis. We did so before, and we can do it again.”

Just before the benediction in church the next Sunday, Pastor Solberg stood in front of the congregation, a smile widening as he waited for them to settle again. “I have the great pleasure this morning of making an announcement that still has me thunderstruck.” He looked around at the members, then nodded. “Good. Would Thorliff, Manda, Anji, and Jacob please come forward?”

Thorliff looked at Ingeborg, who shrugged her confusion also. Swapping questioning looks, the four young people made their way to the front.

“I know, I know. You have no idea what this is about, but I promise you will be as overjoyed as I am.” He waved a letter, then carefully unfolded it. “This came to me two days ago from New York.” He held it still to read.

“Dear Pastor Solberg,

I’m sure your first group of young people have graduated from Blessing School by now and that you have given them a good start. I would like to have the honor of contributing to their further education, so I have enclosed a draft for one hundred dollars to be given to each one of them. I hope they will use this money to further their education, but college is not the only place of learning, so they may use the money as they wish. For your school you will find another draft that I hope you will use for books for your library. It has come to my attention that you have opened the school library so that the good folks of Blessing may come to borrow books. I thank our God for people like you who help educate the future leaders of our great country.

Sincerely,
David Jonathan Gould.”

Thorliff could scarce catch his breath as he heard the swift intake of those around him. A hundred dollars! He turned to look at Anji and saw her eyes shining with tears.

“Who is this Mr. Gould?” Jacob whispered behind his hand.

“A friend of my mor’s. He helped her in New York when we first arrived from Norway.” Thorliff flinched at a look from Pastor Solberg.

“How did he know there were four of us?”

Thorliff shrugged. “My Mor, I guess. They exchange letters.”

“So with that, I hereby present each one of you with a draft.” Pastor Solberg handed out the envelopes with one hand and shook their hands with the other. Manda was still shaking her head.

“Now I expect you will each write the gentleman a thank-you note immediately,” he said with a voice that could reach no farther than the four. At their nods, he turned to the congregation. “Let us pray.” When the rustling ceased, he said, “Father in heaven, thou hast brought unexpected riches to these fine young people from a man who listens to thee. Help them to use the money in the way that thou wouldst have them go so that they may grow in grace and knowledge of thee and of thy will. In thy precious name we pray, amen.” He dismissed them and motioned for everyone to rise. “And now, may the Lord bless thee and keep thee, may the Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee His peace. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, amen.”

Thorliff could hardly keep his feet still. The paper burned in his hands. A hundred dollars. Surely that would pay for a good portion of his school year. Had God heard his prayers and thus answered by using a man far across the land? He barely remembered Mr. Gould but knew of him through Mor’s stories and the letters she read from him.

When everyone around him rose, he stood and accepted the congratulations of friends and family. Folks bubbled with curiosity and joy over the tremendous gift given to them all. When some asked who this man was, Ingeborg told them briefly how he’d helped her in New York City when she was lost and that they’d exchanged letters ever since. When she finished, she glanced up at Haakan to see a cloud had settled on his brow.

“Can I see it?” Astrid asked, pulling on Thorliff ’s sleeve.

“Sure.” He handed her the envelope and watched her open it carefully and remove the oblong piece of paper.

“This is really money?” She looked up to him with rounded eyes and mouth.

“No. This is a draft that can be taken to a bank and exchanged for real money.” Thorliff turned his head enough to see Anji smiling at him. He nodded toward the door, and she tipped her head slightly to indicate she got his message.

Astrid handed the filled envelope back. “I’m glad for you, Thorliff. I don’t want you to be gone so far, but I know how you love school.”

Thorliff stared down at the little sister who so delighted in teasing him. Her lower lip quivered, and her blue eyes shone with unshed tears. “Ah, Astrid.” He picked her up and hugged her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her cheek against his.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“And I you.” Thorliff could barely get the words past the lump swelling in his throat. He hugged her again and set her back down, catching his mother’s damp eyes in the process.
God, can I really leave them all and go to school? Is this money to show me that’s what I am to do?
But he’d caught the cloud on his father’s face as his mother had.

Haakan was not happy. Thorliff wasn’t sure about what, but he had a feeling the straight brows and mouth had to do with the gift.

As someone spoke to Ingeborg and Haakan, Thorliff slipped out the side and headed for the door. Anji would be waiting. He passed Manda and grabbed her hand. “Come on.” At the same time he looked around for Jacob. The four of them needed to talk.

Anji stood by the cottonwood tree, the breeze teasing the blue ribbon she’d tied around her hair.

“I’m goin’ to give that money back,” Manda said as soon as they’d gathered.

“Why?” Anji asked.

“I ain’t goin’ to no more school. Only went the last two years ’cause Father said I had to.”

“But the letter said there were other ways to get an education. What do you think he meant by that?” Jacob looked to Thorliff as if he knew more than the rest.

“Maybe Pastor knows. I sure don’t. But I don’t think you should send it back. Mr. Gould gave the gifts to us and said to use the money as we wanted.”

“Still, it don’t seem right. That Mr. Gould, he don’t know me.” Manda clamped her splinted arm to her chest.

“What are you going to do with yours?” Jacob asked Anji.

“I want to go to the college in Grand Forks and become a teacher.” Anji wore a dreamy look, so unlike her.

“Is it enough?”

“I don’t know, but I think perhaps I will inquire. Never hurts to ask anyway.”

Thorliff knew teaching was her dream, but she’d never told anyone else.

“Anji, you want to ride home with us?” Agnes called from the seat of the Baard wagon.

Thorliff shook his head and said
Walk with me
with his eyes.

“No, Mor, but I’ll be home shortly.”

As all the wagons headed for their respective homes, Thorliff and Anji ambled slowly toward the Baard farm, laughing and waving as the wagons passed them by, cheerfully ignoring the teasing. When the dust drifted off to settle on the roadside grass and sun-burnished daisies, the two picked up their conversation again.

“Do you really think you could go?” Thorliff ’s hand brushed Anji’s, sending a zinger up his arm.
Do I dare?
To answer his own question, he breached the chasm and took her fingers in his until their hands met, palm to palm. When he looked down at her, he read the answer in her eyes. She’d wanted that as much as he.
One of these days I’m going to kiss you too
. She must have read his mind, for she instantly turned red as the cardinal who sang on the breeze.

“I . . . I . . .” She sighed. “Like I’ve said before, I dream of it, but Mor needs me.”

“Mrs. Sam could come help.”

“I know, but . . .” Anji chewed on her bottom lip. “I’ll just have to keep praying about it.”

“Have you ever asked your mor what she thinks?” Her hand felt fine as a summer Sunday morning in his. He swung his hand a bit just to feel hers move with his.

Slowly shaking her head, Anji looked down at the ground. “No.”

“But . . .”

She stopped. “Thorliff, if I ask her, she will say I must go. That’s the way she is, always thinking of the rest of us and not of how sick she is. She absolutely refuses to talk about . . . about . . .” Tears shimmered, and one rolled over her lashes and down her cheek.

Thorliff wiped the tear away with one finger. Her skin felt like the finest cream. “Your Pa could take her to the doctor in Grand Forks.”

“He tried. She won’t go. She said that if the good Lord didn’t heal her, then this is His will, and she must bear it.”

“She’s talked with Metiz and Mor?”

“Of course. Many times. Nothing seems to help.” A sob caught her. “So you see, I cannot leave her. No matter what I want.”

Thorliff turned to face her and took her other hand too. He knew the unspoken words. If Agnes died, then Anji would be expected to care for the Baard home and the younger children. That’s what the eldest daughter did.

“I . . . I wish it could be different.”

“Ja.” She nodded and wiped the tears away with her fingertips. Then slipping her hand back in his, she set their path toward the farm ahead. “I need to help get dinner on the table.”

When Thorliff left her at the gate, he trudged home. No matter that the sun blazed in the sky, he felt under a cloud, a heavy black rain cloud. The blackness seeped inside his heart, heavy with the knowledge there was nothing he could do to help Anji.

“God, it’s not fair,” he said to the sky. But as Mor had often said, life wasn’t fair, but God was always good. Thorliff shook his head. How could God be good in a situation like this?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Northfield, Minnesota

“Housekeepers are hard to come by. Good ones, that is,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. Still shaking her head after interviewing the last candidate for Dr. Gaskin, she poured cups of tea for her mother and herself. “Did you have this kind of trouble looking for Cook?”

“Yes. You look and look and then the right person walks through the door and you know it immediately. Are you sure Dr. Gaskin shouldn’t be looking for household help himself?”

“Perhaps. But he can hardly manage to treat his patients right now. He looks to have aged about ten years. . . .”

“And he wasn’t a spring chicken anyhow.” Annabelle sipped from a china cup sprinkled with forget-me-nots. She closed her eyes and savored both the fragrance and the flavor.

“Has he ever said anything to you about his plans that I should take over his practice?”

Annabelle’s eyes snapped open. “No, never. Why?”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows shrugged along with her shoulders. “Just a comment he made—”

“About?”

“About . . .” Eyes slit, Elizabeth tried to recall his exact words. “About how he was keeping it together for me.” She pursed her lips, then rolled them together. “I’m not sure if he meant keeping on going now for me, or if he was referring to the practice.” She leaned forward and her voice deepened in intensity. “Mother, I don’t want to take over the practice here in Northfield. Not that it’s not a good thing, but I . . . I . . .”
I what? I don’t know what I want. I just know what I
don’t
want
.