A New Day Rising (22 page)

Swen's eyes narrowed, his brows meeting in a straight gash across his forehead. His voice deepened, like a bear about to roar. "You better not have another Queen in the hole for a full house. If you do, I know you been cheating, dealing seconds like I been suspecting." He propped his elbows on the table. "I call your two dollar raise. Whatcha holding?" He flipped over his hole card. "There's my third King."

"I don't have 'a Queen in the hole." Hjelmer could hear an intake of breath by the spectators.

Swen let a touch of unholy glee light his black eyes for only an instant.

As he rolled over his hole card, Hjelmer murmured. "What I got is four jacks."

The sparkle turned to lightning. "You been cheatin'!" Swen exploded. He slammed both hands on the table, and a roar of obscenities blistered the ears of those at the table and anyone within a city block. "I'm going to cut your heart out and feed it to the fish. I'll kill you, you ..." Swen reached across the table with both hands, fingers wide to clamp around Hjelmer's neck. The young man ducked sideways, scooped the remainder of his winnings and leaped to his feet.

The monster came at him, tables, chairs, and bodies flying in all directions. One pile-driver fist caught him a glancing blow on the shoulder, and Hjelmer staggered back, saved from crashing to the floor only by the arms of his friend.

"Run!" Tor yelled in his ear.

The two pelted out the room.

"I'll find you, you thieving whelp...." The thunder behind them leant power to their legs. "You can't run far enough," the giant bellowed behind them. "I'll find you." The string of Norwegian curses promised all manner of damage to his person, his family, and anyone in any way connected to him.

After a mile of turns and pounding feet, Tor leaned against a wall, struggling to catch his breath. "He means it."

"Naa, it will blow over by Monday. I won that hand fair and square."

"I know that, and you know that. But I saw Swen hit a man one time, and the man never got up again."

"The police-"

"You think those Irish loudmouths care what happens here to us Norwegians?" He stood upright again. "You better get your stuff and head west to that homestead you told me about."

The two walked on, feeling safe now that they could no longer hear the raging Swen.

"But my job-"

"Hjelmer, listen to me. That man will kill you. He said he would and he meant it. You took every dime he had. And worse, you made him look the fool."

Hjelmer spun around. Was that footsteps he heard behind them? He saw no one, but the hairs on his arms and neck stood at attention.

ars' foot will most likely have to come off," Haakan said to Ingeborg one evening at the supper table.

ingeborg looked up from cutting the venison steak into small pieces for Andrew. "There must be some other way to save it. How will Lars get around with one foot missing?"

"I could carve him a new one. Wouldn't be good as the real thing, but better than nothing. I heard tell of men after The War between the States who hobbled around on less than that."

"Ja, they hobbled." Ingeborg shook her head. "Kaaren has lost so much in her life already. How can she endure this one more thing?"

"Lars is the one losing the foot, not Kaaren."

"I know." ingeborg got up for the coffeepot.

"Is there a doctor in St. Andrew?"

"No. The closest one's in Grand Forks."

"How,do you cut off a foot?" Thorliff looked up from mashing his potatoes.

"Eat your supper."

"I am. How do you cut through the bones?"

"The same way we cut through wood."

"With an ax?"

"No, more likely with a saw."

"What would you do with the foot?" Thorliff propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward, the light of curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Thorliff Bjorklund, this is not a subject we need at the table. Finish your supper."

"But, I-" Her look quelled any further questions.

Haakan quailed under the look she shot him, too. Andrew banged his spoon on the table and laughed as if someone had just told a marvelous joke or tickled his tummy.

Ingeborg rolled her eyes heavenward. "Hu to me tu!"

After the children were tucked in bed and sleeping, she brought up the subject again. "We have been massaging Lars' foot and using both hot and cold water soaks, but the blood circulation doesn't return, and the pain is getting worse." She thought about her dwindling supply of herbs. Something in there should be good for frostbite and the blisters that were now forming, but if the gangrene took hold, she had no idea what to do. Either cutting off the entire foot or amputation back into the healthy flesh seemed the only options.

"I will take the foot off if we need to." Haakan sat by the fire carving on a piece of wood. The shavings mounded at his feet and released the sweet smell of cedar into the warm air.

"Have you done such before?"

He shook his head. "Have you or Kaaren?"

"Nei. In Nordland we had a doctor who attended such things. My mor was the local midwife, so I learned much from her, and then after we arrived here, Metiz taught me about the local roots and herbs. I need to grind up some more willow bark to help ease the pain. I wish we had some laudanum. That works so much better."

"You want I should go to St. Andrew to get some?"

"If you rode, you could make the trip fairly quickly." Ingeborg picked up her knitting that always lay ready for her in the basket by her chair. As the needles began their clicking song, she heaved a sigh. "Somehow we have to save that foot."

Later, after Haakan had made his way to the barn and his bed in the far stall, ingeborg took out her Bible and turned to the stories of Jesus healing the lepers. Wasn't this chilblain much like leprosy, only instead of the diseased part falling off, it had to be cut off? Either way, the sufferer lost a part of himself. And for a man without a foot, the prairie could exact a terrible price.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the carved back of the chair. "Father in heaven, I know not what to do. The pain is making Lars talk gibberish at times, and Kaaren is weak from the little one she is carrying. Please, help us. As you healed the lepers with your touch, I ask you do so again." She rocked and prayed, prayed and rocked. Wood settled in the stove with a gentle whoosh. Paws barked outside the door, then settled back down again just as she was about to go see what was bothering him.

"Thank you for Haakan who has come to help for the summer." He'd looked chastened like a small boy when she scolded him and Thorliff at the supper table. She could feel the smile that rose from her midsection and bloomed on her face. He made her laugh at times, and he made Thorliff laugh, which was even more important. No eight-year-old boy should bear the responsibilities that he did. A sigh followed the smile. What would they do when the man left to return to the Minnesota north woods as he planned?

She could hear her own mor's voice as if she stood right behind the rocker. "Let the day's own troubles be sufficient for the day." She couldn't worry about fall. She had to get through the spring first.

And the red blisters forming on the dead, white flesh of Lars' foot.

She took the willow bark over to Kaaren's in the morning. "Here, make a tea of this for him to drink. It will help ease the pain."

"I know." Kaaren accepted the packet of powder. "Willow bark." She rubbed her forehead with one hand. "I think I'll drink some, too."

"Haakan said he'd go to St. Andrew for laudanum."

"But Haakan needs to be out in the fields. Besides the pain, being unable to help with the work is what's driving Lars insane. We had such big plans for this season." She poured water from the steaming teapot into a small kettle and added some of the willow bark. "How much should I use?"

"About that much again. I've been wracking my brain for something else to try." A line of shouted gibberish erupted from the bed. Andrew tangled his fists in her skirt and stared, big eyed, at the bed. Ingeborg picked him up and jiggled him on her hip. "There now, it is only Onkel Lars." At another shout, Andrew buried his face in her shoulder and whimpered.

Kaaren poured some of the steeped liquid into a cup and crossed the room. "Lars, here, drink this." She sat down on the board that edged the rope-strung bed and leaned forward to help her husband sit up to drink. Instead, he waved an arm, catching her on the side of her head and knocking her backward. The cup flew up in the air, liquid flying every which way.

"Hu to mi tu!" Ingeborg ran across the room and helped Kaaren sit upright. "Has that happened before?"

Kaaren shook her head. "He's not been violent. I know that the pain is driving him wild, but this-" She rubbed at a reddening spot on her cheek. Tears filled her eyes and she dashed them away. "We have to do something, Ingeborg. Haakan is needed in the field, and knowing you, you'd like to be out there, too. I will ride into St. Andrew."

"And who will watch over Lars?" And the boys? Ingeborg thought but didn't add.

Kaaren shook her head. "I don't know what to do!" She wrapped her arms around her middle and swayed back and forth, trying to rock the pain away.

Ingeborg tied Andrew in the rocker with a couple of spoons to play with, returned to the stove, and once again filled the cup with warm liquid. "First, we must get this into him so he can endure the pain." She carried the cup back to the bed. "Lars! Lars! Listen to me." His eyes fluttered open, vague and without sense. "Lars!" The command in her voice cut through the vapors clouding his head.

I hear you, Ingeborg. Need you holler so?"

"Thanks be to God," Kaaren whispered.

"Drink this. It will help with the pain." Ingeborg propped him up with an arm beneath his shoulders and held the cup to his lips.

He made a face but drank the brown liquid. Pain had sculpted canyons in his face from nose to chin and furrows across his brow. He lay back when finished and took in a deep breath. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Ingeborg and Kaaren swapped looks of consternation.

"You don't have to treat me like I'm an invalid, you know. I've seen people with frostbite and chilblains before. I know how the treatment must go." He looked to his wife, now sitting on the edge of the bed again. "If we must take off the foot to save the man, so be it. Just don't wait too long to make the decision. I want to be around to see that babe of ours born and help him grow up."

"Him, him. Don't these men ever think about having daughters to care for them in their old age?" Ingeborg set the cup on the table. The twinkle in her eye belied the brusqueness of her tone.

"After a boy, we will have girls, then more boys and then more girls."

"Ja, you will keep me breeding all the time. Who will teach that school all of these children of ours are going to need?" Kaaren laid a hand protectively on her belly. "And besides, I think this one is a girl. She will help me with all those boys you want."

Andrew, tired of playing with his spoons, began to whimper in his chair.

"I better get about my chores." Ingeborg stood and crossed to the rocker where Andrew beamed her a smile fit to break any wom an's heart. She untied the dish towel and lifted him into the air, kissing his ruddy cheeks and blowing on his neck. The child's chortles made even Lars smile around his pain. "I will see you later."