A New Day Rising (15 page)

Ingeborg swung her bag of greens on the table. "And these. I thought you might want them also."

"Good, good. Now please be seated. Andrew was ready to eat a long time ago, and I only gave him a bread crust to stave him off. I thought all of us eating together would be a treat."

As soon as Lars finished grace, they passed the bowls of potatoes and gravy, roast chicken and biscuits around the table, each of them filling their plates and eating like they'd not had a meal for days.

When Kaaren got up to pour the second cups of coffee, Haakan said, "Please tell me more about this Metiz. I hear so much good that she has done-"

"Metiz saved Mor's life," Thorliff said around a mouthful of biscuit.

"Yes, she did. She's become a good friend. She taught us much about learning how to find the bounty of the prairie. Things are much different here than in Nordland." Ingeborg laid her fork down and leaned her elbows on the table. "Metiz is the name for the people who are descendants of both French Canadian fur trappers and the Indians, usually Chippewa or one of the Lakota tribes. They were here long before the current settlers, living off the land like their ancestors did and migrating with the buffalo and the seasons. Metiz herself broke that piece of the prairie nearest the river and raised some grain and garden things like tubers and corn. She still leaves to be with her family in the winter and returns in the spring. She should becoming back anytime now."

"Metiz' wolf saved our sheep last year from a pack of wolves," Thorliff added, his eyes shining in the lamplight.

"Yes, you most likely will see Wolf. Metiz saved his life when he was young, and now he guards her; and because we are her friends, he guards us and ours, too."

"A wolf!" Disbelief colored Haakan's tone.

"Ja, you will see his tracks before you see him. His right front foot was caught in a trap, so his paw print is distinctive."

ingeborg watched as Haakan exchanged a look of wonder with Lars.

"Stranger things have been known to happen." Lars sipped his coffee. "I have heard many tales in my travels with the threshing crew." He turned to Ingeborg. "Haakan and I think it is dry enough now to make a trip to St. Andrew with the wagon, and since we got so much wood cut for the riverboats, tomorrow would be a good time to go. What do you think?"

Ingeborg hid the pleasure she felt at being asked instead of told. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "There could still be another blizzard."

"Inge, the grass is nearly ankle-high in places. We might get another dusting of snow, true, but a blizzard? I doubt it."

"You could wait another week."

"By then we could be out in the fields. I'd hate to waste a day that could be spent plowing."

"Kaaren and I could go later. We have eggs and cheese to take to the Bonanza farm."

Lars laid his hand on his wife's. "I don't think Kaaren feels up to a trip in that wagon. And besides, I'm not sure the ferry is running yet."

Ingeborg looked from Kaaren's pale face to Lars. She nodded. It seemed the decision was out of her hands. But a tiny voice deep inside worried at her. Another few days wouldn't matter so much, would it?

With Haakan carrying Andrew, they made their way back to the southern soddy, and after she put the boys to bed, the two adults returned to the barn. Working together, they had the deer skinned and the geese plucked in what seemed like no time. They covered the deer carcass with a cloth and, after salting it heavily, rolled the hide, hair side in.

Ingeborg poured warm water from the reservoir into a pan so they could wash. Haakan's shoulder brushed hers, sending a tingle down her arm. She had felt the same out in the quiet of the barn.

"Thank you for your help." She handed him a cloth to dry his hands.

"You are more than welcome. I've heard it said willing hands make work lighter."

"Ja, that is true." She started to hang the towel on the peg, when he reached out and took something from her hair. She froze, her gaze snagging on the deep blue of his Bjorklund eyes.

He held up a twig. "You had an extra passenger in your hair."

"Oh, ah, mange takk." She took the twig from his fingers, careful not to touch the rough tips, then crossing the small space, she lifted the lid on the stove and dropped the bit of wood in. All the while, she hoped the actions would calm her tripping heart. What was happening with her?

"We will leave before daylight. Lars will use his team."

"You might be wise to hitch up four in case there are places so soft yet to get stuck." Did her words make any sense at all? Ingeborg took in a solid breath and wiped her hands on her skirt.

"Thank you, but no. That is not necessary."

"I will milk the cow, then."

"Good."

Why did he stand with the lamplight glinting off his hair and stare at her that way?

Her heart tripped again.

He turned to leave. "Good night, then."

"Good night, Mr. Bjorklund."

"I remember you said you would call me Haakan." He waited.

"Good night, H-Haakan."

He touched a finger to the brim of his hat and crossed the few steps to the door. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I must say I think I liked you in britches better."

Ingeborg felt the flaming reach clear to her hairline. "Uff da."

She crawled into bed still trying to keep her lips from smiling. Such effrontery. She grinned in the darkness. After saying her prayers, she rolled on her side. This "uff da" was definitely the end of a chuckle.

The men were gone when she awoke to the rooster's crowing.

The blizzard struck in the early afternoon, bearing down from the north like a runaway freight train.

e couldn't remember her face. Haakan tried to bring back the memory of the cook in the lumber camp, but he couldn't. In his mind, she stood in front of the huge cookshack stove, birdlike in her swift movements, but when she turned, he couldn't see her face.

"So, this must have seemed a mighty long walk," Lars said as he slapped the reins over the backs of the team trotting between the traces.

"Huh?" Haakan jerked himself back to the present. "What did you say?"

"Long walk. You know, the day you Came to the homestead." Lars turned his head and gave Haakan a questioning look.

")a, it was, especially since I nearly froze to death in the snowfall the night before. If it hadn't been for that run-down soddy, they would have found my bones out on the prairie."

"The weather here is mighty changeable." Lars shook his head. "I don't like leaving Kaaren when she is feeling so low."

"Is she sick?"

"Feels like it. Women get that way sometimes when they're in the family way. Of course, it's all new to me. Can't say I ever remember my mor having trouble, but then she was good at hiding how she felt. Kaaren is, too, but I can tell."

"How long have you been married?"

"Not even a year yet. We married after harvest was over last fall. She'd been widowed the winter before. Now, that was a hard year for many around here. Blizzards, and then the flu hit, taking entire families. Kaaren lost her husband and two little girls. Way she tells it, if it hadn't been for Ingeborg, she'd have lost her mind, too. A mighty close call it was there for a time."

"Is that when Ingeborg's husband died, too?"

"Ja, he went out to assist the others as soon as the blizzard let up. We don't know if the weather got him or the flu or some combination thereof, but he never came back. Polinski-you'll regret the day you meet him, now there is one lazy farmer-found the headstall of Roald's mule, and Ingeborg found Roald's pocketknife in the duff by a big cottonwood. Wolves must have got the rest."

Haakan barely kept himself from shuddering. What an awful way to die, unless the man just took refuge under the tree and slept his life away. He left such a fine family. "Some man will be fortunate to marry Mrs. Bjorklund."

Lars sent him a slanting look. "What about you?"

Haakan shook his head. "No, I'm not one for farming on this prairie. Too flat for me. If I leave the timber country, think I'll head farther west. I heard tell there are mountains with trees so big you could hold a dance on the cut stump, and hills and valleys with land so rich you can stick a post in a hole and it'll sprout."

"Funny, that's what they say about the Red River Valley. No one's dug down below the topsoil yet. Might be it goes on forever. Indians say there used to be a great sea here." He motioned to the land around him with his chin. "Well, let's hope we don't have no trouble fording the Little Salt, and we can get loaded and head home 'for the sun heads down. These two horses know the way home. They'll take us there after dark if the moon's hiding out."

Haakan stared ahead over the rumps of the team pulling the wagon toward St. Andrew. This was such an easy ride compared to that day he had walked these miles.

The wagon barely had to float to ford the Little Salt, a far different scene than the one he had forded. The horses threw themselves into their collars, and with mud flying from hooves and wheels, they breasted the bank. Lars wrapped the reins around the brake handle and leaped to the ground to make sure the traces remained secure. He checked all the harness and around the wagon before climbing back aboard. With a chirp and a quick flap of the reins, they were on their way again.

"That's the soddy where I spent one night," Haakan said, pointing to the building with one corner of the roof broken in and the doorway gaping open.

"Better'n out in the weather."

"Ja, I'd slept under enough trees to appreciate the shelter. One, night I slept in a barn, another in a haystack. Farms on the Min nesota side can be few and far between."

"Out here, too. But settlers are coming in fast as they can hitch their horses to a wagon and drive it. Mark my words, that railroad comes over on our side of the river and you won't be able to more'n throw a rock between the farms. Almost no land left now, leastwise not for homesteading."

"I heard there's still plenty to the west."

"Right. But nothing with the richness of this river valley. I haven't had to dig a rock yet, or a stump. Just get that sod busted and seeds grow. The Indians didn't even bother to plow. They dug a hole with a stick, dropped in the seed and waited for it to come up. Corn, squash, beans they grew. Takes busted sod for wheat and oats, though. You done any of that?"

Haakan shook his head. "I've plowed plenty. Driven freight with six up, loaded ships on the docks of Duluth, anything I needed to put my hand to in order to survive, I did." He looked over at Lars. "There's work for whoever's willing in this country, but I still like working the timber best."

Lars nodded. "Your skill with the ax proves that. Surprised me how much we got cut and stacked. The paddle-wheelers will be happy to load up."

"Don't you need a dock to load from?"

"We'll build something. What they had got washed away in the spring runoff last year. And the two women didn't have wood cut for the ships last year."

"But they got more sod busted?"

Lars nodded. "Mostly that was Ingeborg. She don't let nothing stop her, but Kaaren thought she was working herself into an early grave. They say hard work is good for healing the soul, but I don't figure the good Lord meant for women to bust sod. It's backbreaking work for a strong man."