A Land to Call Home (23 page)

“What happened?” Haakan set the lantern down and wrapped his arms around her.

Ingeborg leaned against him. The thudding of his heart in her ear against his chest felt like a welcome home. He had come for her.

From the safety of his arms she told him what had happened.

“Olaf will be here in a few minutes with a horse. Something told me you were in trouble over an hour ago. I should have come sooner.”

“You are here now. That is all that matters.” She shivered when he drew his arms away.

He leaned back, his eyes drilling into hers. “Ingeborg, why didn’t you fire off the two rounds to say you were in trouble? We would have come immediately.”

“I . . . I . . .” She couldn’t stand the intensity of his gaze. Plain as if he were standing right behind her, she heard Roald’s order.
Do not waste any shells
. “I . . . I couldn’t waste the shells.”

“Don’t you know you are worth more to me than thousands of cases of shells?”

Tears started and flooded her eyes before she could stop them. She wiped them on the front of his shirt and leaned again into his warmth. One of his hands cupped the back of her head as he brushed the remaining flow away with his lips.

Chin quivering, she reached up to kiss him back. “Mange takk, my husband.”

They stood close for a long moment before Haakan gently said, “Let’s get to the open. Can you walk if you don’t have to drag this?” She nodded, then picked up the lantern. “Let’s go.”

After pouring some of the precious whiskey over the wound, Metiz sewed up the slashed leg without a word. Ingeborg clenched her teeth against the fire of that assault and dug her fingernails into the chair seat as the stitching progressed. Maybe she should have had a swig of the liquid herself as Haakan suggested. When she finally collapsed in bed, she fell asleep as if she’d been struck on the head by a rock.

Haakan postponed the hog butchering.

Each day Kaaren felt stronger. “I don’t do anything but feed babies,” she said to Penny. “I cannot tell you how much I thank you and Metiz for all your help. I know the babies wouldn’t have made it without you, or perhaps me either.”

Penny looked up from diapering Sophie. “I am glad I could help. I know Metiz will leave for her wintering grounds as soon as she feels we can manage on our own.” She glanced over to where Solveig
washed the dinner dishes at the stove. As long as she stood in one place, Solveig could do any number of things. But still, she never spoke unless to answer a question.

Kaaren followed Penny’s gaze and shook her head. What to do about Solveig? She had made no effort to go out of the house, even though there was no mud to speak of. When others came to visit or check on them, she drew her silence around her as if she’d climbed in the trunk and shut the lid, just as they did as children. Had she lost her laughter and ready smile in the train wreck? And her faith?

As if she could feel them studying her, Solveig looked up from the dishes. She brushed a hank of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, then deliberately turned away and resumed her chore.

Penny and Kaaren exchanged looks of consternation.

Kaaren knew her sister’s actions weren’t because of pain in the leg any longer. The wound had healed well, and the leg seemed to hurt only when Solveig put too much weight on it, so the break must be nearly healed also. The train wreck had been almost a month earlier now that November was upon them. Kaaren looked down at the baby sleeping in her arms. One tiny fist had managed to get out of the blanket wrapped so firmly around the little body, and it lay curled against Kaaren’s apron bib. Grace still needed to nurse more often than Sophie, but both were growing. She could hear Penny talking to Sophie and the baby gurgling back. Strange, but Grace made no sounds yet except to cry when hungry.

Metiz entered the soddy. “Deer antler cut Ingeborg above knee.”

“Oh no. How bad is it?”

“Sewed up.” Metiz dug in her pack for her simples. “Lose blood.”

“Can she walk on it?” Penny asked.

“Tomorrow.” Metiz headed for the door again.

“Then we better make supper for everyone.” Kaaren rose to her feet and put the still sleeping baby into the lined box by the stove. “I’ll peel the potatoes. Penny, would you bring in an elk roast from the smokehouse. I think there are two large ones left out there. Get some turnips and onions from the cellar too. Solveig, do you know how many loaves of bread we have? Let’s see.” Kaaren laid a finger on her chin as she marshaled her troops. “I had planned we’d have krub tomorrow after they butchered the hogs, but I hope the men put that off for a few days now. Uff da.” She shook her head. “What next?”

Stiff and sore as she was the next day, Ingeborg hitched the team to the plow and cut sod for the lean-to on the soddy while the three men shingled the barn. Thorliff and Baptiste split shingles and ran them up to the men as soon as they had half a bundle. Lowering clouds constantly reminded Ingeborg that Metiz had predicted snow on the dying moon. Tonight’s moon, if they saw it or not, would show only a thin slice. No matter how much her leg throbbed from pushing the pedals, she kept going. If the ground froze deep, there would be no lean-to for a bedroom for Olaf and Thorliff, or for Baptiste if Metiz could be persuaded to stay. The deer she’d shot the night before hung in the sod barn, waiting to be cut up and either smoked or dried. But the weather was cold enough to keep the meat. Haakan had salted the hide and rolled it, hair in, so Ingeborg could tan it later. So much to do.

Penny served them all dinner and supper each day.

“I could split shingles,” Solveig said during a lull in the conversation one afternoon.

Everyone looked at her, the boys with open mouths.

“Ja, I guess you could,” Haakan said with a nod. “Have you ever done so before?”

She shook her head. “Thorliff will teach me.”

Andrew banged his spoon on the table. “Me spit single.”

Thorliff and Baptiste crowed with laughter.

Andrew watched them for a moment before the set of his jaw said he didn’t think the joke so funny. He leaned over and banged his spoon on Thorliff’s head. “Me spit single.”

“Ouch.” Thorliff rubbed the top of his head.

“Andrew.” Ingeborg took the spoon away before he could repeat his action. She tried to look sternly at the two older boys. “You know he doesn’t like to be laughed at like that.” She rolled her lips together.

“But he’s funny.”

“I know.” She handed Andrew back his spoon. “Eat your stew, den lille guten. You can split shingles when you get a bit bigger.”

“Ride horse?” He gave his mother a hopeful look, accompanied by a wistful smile, the one that earned him extra cookies at times.

“We’ll see.” She finished her plate and looked at Kaaren. “Where is Metiz?”

“Packing her things.” Kaaren sighed and shook her head. “I tried to talk her into remaining here for the winter, but you know Metiz.”

“Ja, I know.”

“But Baptiste can go to school with me all winter, soon’s Tante Kaaren can start teaching.” Thorliff turned to the sober-faced boy at his side. “Don’t you want to go to school?”

Baptiste nodded. “But Grandmere needs me.”

“Mor,” Thorliff pleaded.

“I’ll try talking to her tonight.”

But talking did no good. Metiz just shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Thorliff,” Ingeborg said when her son told her goodnight before he followed Uncle Olaf out to the barn. “You know, you could have your place back in the bed with Andrew.”

“I know, but Onkel Olaf would be lonely.”

“It is here anytime you want it.” She smoothed the straight blond hair back from his forehead.

Tonight, since he was alone, he tolerated her fussing, even moving closer to her side.

“Have you seen Wolf lately?” she asked.

“No, but then we almost never see him anyway. Only when he wants us to. Why?”

“Sometimes when I hunt, he appears. He knows I will give him the insides, but I haven’t seen him for some time.”

Haakan entered the soddy from checking on the livestock one last time. “Brrr, the temperature’s dropping out there. You feel up to butchering day after tomorrow?”

“Ja, will you ask Joseph to help?”

“I will. Then we’ll do his the following day.” He hung his hat and coat on the wall pegs. “That Agnes, she don’t look too good.”

“Night, Mor, Far.” Thorliff headed for the barn.

“I should have gone over to see her. I meant to.” Guilt jabbed Ingeborg with its barb.

“We’ll be there in a couple of days.” He waited by the lamp. “You want I should wrap that for you?”

Ingeborg looked up from unwrapping the strips of cloth tied around her leg. Rusty looking spots stained the layer closest to her skin. The paste that Metiz spread over the slash crumbled like dry leaves, but the stitches held firm and now there was no seepage. “Would you hand me that pot please? Metiz said to use her medicine again.”

Haakan stared down at the wound. “Looks good. No sign of infection.”

“Thank the Lord for that.” She smoothed the cool salve over the injured area. “Such a stupid move. Never should have happened.” She took the new strips and rebandaged her leg, tying the ends in a knot on top. “Sure will be stiff by morning.” She pulled her nightdress over her head. “But it could have been so much worse.”

“Promise me that anytime something like this happens, you will use the rifle to signal me.”

“Ja, I promise.” Lying flat by her husband’s side, Ingeborg laid a hand on her belly. Was there a child growing there as she suspected? Should she tell Haakan now or wait until she was sure?

Soft snores answered her question. And besides, what if she lost this one as she had the other? She snuggled against her husband’s broad back with one arm over his ribs. As Kaaren had said, “What next?”

N
o, you hold the froe this way, then hit it with the mallet.” Thorliff demonstrated the action for splitting shingles again.

Solveig nodded and grasped the vertical wooden handle. With the blade of the froe set half an inch from the split edge of the butt, she tapped it with her mallet.

“Hit it harder.”

She slammed the mallet downward but accidentally let the froe lean toward her. The froe bounced on top of the butt. She glared at Thorliff, almost daring him to say something.