Authors: Jane Prescott
Maggie was stunned. “You are too kind to a stranger! I am overcome by this. I couldn’t impose so.”
Inga waved her concerns off. “We are rich, my husband and I. It is pleasure for me to offer this.”
Maggie took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze of gratitude before the two women finished their sandwiches. Mankato was approaching and with it, the last leg of Maggie’s journey. She felt more at ease and hopeful.
###
Jonkoping, she quickly found, was no more than a small handful of buildings on a main street; a tavern, a Lutheran church, the stage service, a grocer and dry goods store, a blacksmith, and a few other small businesses. When her coach pulled in, she was disappointed to see that her intended was no more than a boy.
The skinny young man scratched his head and helped her down. He was standing near a flatbed cart of his own pulled by a single horse. “You Margaret?” The boy asked, scratching his armpit as he sauntered over. He appeared to be very interested in her, judging from his gaze, but he seemed more curious than loving. She felt her heart fall.
“I am she. You are Henry, I take it?”
“Nah. I’m Tom. Henry is in the store and I’m just waiting out here for you.” He pointed to the dry goods store across the dusty road.
She let out a quiet sigh of relief, hoping he didn’t catch on. She didn’t want offend the first person she’d met in her new home. “Oh! I’ll just go over now then.”
“I’ll start loading up your trunk and such.” Tom offered.
She thanked him and set off across the empty road.
Inside the store, her shoes clunked along the wood-slatted floor. There were a few women waiting patiently for their turn in line, while a pair of children were staring longingly at penny candies. No one was manning the counter.
Maggie was about to ask where the shopkeep was when she heard raised voices near the back of the store. She moved past the kegs and boxes of supplies only to see two men arguing over a dress.
“I tell you, it must be ready today!” The man in a casual flat hat was stridently informing the shop owner. “She will be here in minutes.”
“And she must… excuse me ma’am.” The other man apologized as she approached. His eyes lit up when she took a closer look. “Your fiancée will be here this afternoon you say?”
The other man turned and his anger and frustration melted to a look of… was it disappointment? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped not. For his part, he was lean and every bit as attractive as she’d hoped, with his immaculately groomed mustaches and clean, simple Sunday clothes. He’d clearly tried to look good for their first meeting. “Margaret?”
“Maggie, dear. I am so pleased to see you in person, Henry.” She offered and closed the distance between them. She left a small buffer of space, so as not to be immodest, but wanted to stand near to him, to get a sense of what it was like to be near the man. “Is there some argument over a dress, then?”
The shopkeep held up a pretty blue and white calico, showing off the print for the woman. “I was explaining to Henry that-”
“Never mind that, Gus.” Henry said, waving him away. “We’ll figure it out. Welcome Maggie. I’m sorry you heard me raise my voice. Gus and I are friends, I assure you.”
“It’s true ma’am.” Gus nodded. “You might tell Henry a dress must adjusted before it can worn.”
“I’ll see to it myself. I was a seamstress back in Virginia.” She explained. “It’s quite lovely! You are too sweet my dear.”
“Glad to do it.” Henry replied, but there was a flatness to his tone. As they stepped out into the sun after paying for the new garment, she felt a strong tension coming off of him. A shadow crept over her happiness. Perhaps she had found a good-looking man, but for his part he was upset with what he saw. If so, she felt sure he’d be rid of her soon and all of her hopes of building a new life were being built on sand. He took her hand as they crossed the street and though the day was beautiful, inside her a storm of emotions raged.
###
“Is it to your liking?” Maggie asked her fiancée. She was spending her second day at the home of Sven Olander, sharing a bed with his wife Rose. Tomorrow was to be her wedding day and though she was determined to see it through, she felt a hollowness inside.
Henry picked at the cake while Sven, Tom, and Rose dug in happily. Tom was the first to speak up. “You do wonders with a cake, Maggie!”
“Yep.” Sven agreed. “My Rose here, bless you dear, is a wonderful baker. If you both make us cakes every day, I’ll be a happy and fat man in no time!”
Rose and Maggie chuckled. “You know full well we can’t afford such luxuries, Sven Olander.” Rose reminded him. She was starting to show their first child, a great joy to their family given they’d been struggling to conceive for the past few years. She pat her belly and the growing baby. “Though tomorrow you can count on my best cake for you and our Henry, Maggie.”
Henry took a few bites and set his fork down. “It’s good. A little rich for my taste.” He got up and set a cloth napkin aside after wiping his hands. “Going outside to smoke my pipe. Back in a bit.” He announced. He gave them all a curt nod and hurried out.
The family fell into an awkward silence. Maggie pushed aside her own plate. “It’s dry.” She announced, bitterly.
“Not a bit.” Rose insisted, as her future sister-in-law bowed her head. “It was in every way a perfect cake.”
Maggie said nothing, her shoulders slumped.
The Olanders finished their dessert and as Rose cleared away the dishes, Sven stood and gave a long stretch. “Guess I’ll go outside and smoke my pipe too. Maggie, keep me company for a moment if you’d be so kind.”
“You’ll want to talk to your brother or Rose, I should imagine.” She objected.
“I’d like to talk to you. Henry will be walking by the river this time of night, and I don’t fancy leaving my porch. And I talk plenty to that pretty woman over there.” He grinned. Rose gave him a returning smile.
“Go on. I’ll clean up.” Rose encouraged her. Maggie shrugged and followed Sven outside.
A long wooden bench lined the front wall and Sven took his ease there. Maintaining a respectable distance, Maggie settled a distance from the bushy-bearded man as he lit his pipe.
“You must feel like coming out here was a big waste of time, I suppose.” Sven observed. He took a few draws from the pipe before exhaling. “Must wonder what you got yourself into out here.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Well, we all see it. Henry is a discouraging devil to those who don’t know him. He gets his mind a certain way, it can be tough to see the real man he’s become.”
She laced her fingers and set her hands in her lap to try to stop her natural fidgeting. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but I don’t think I know what you might intend to tell me.”
Sven crossed his legs and leaned back on the bench. “Henry like you. He doesn’t show it, but he does. He’s a bit ornery because… I know you’re a Southerner, ma’am, but the war was hard on us. I’m sure you’ve heard about Bjorn and what happened to him up on Cemetery Ridge.”
“I had. I am sorry for your loss.”
“You’d have liked him. Everybody did. Back then, Henry and I didn’t see eye-to-eye all that often. We’d tear into each other over whether the moon was up or not. Somehow, Bjorn always set us to laughing and we’d all forget the entire thing happened. He and Henry were very close.
“We were defending the ridge when Henry got a stone in his shoe. He ducked down under some cover and Bjorn took his spot. That’s when Johnny Reb took him. Right here.” He pointed between his own eyes. “Not a thing I’d hope anyone ever sees in their whole life. Henry saw it happen too. Since that day he’s sworn off all drinking, cards- mind, he was never one for vice to begin with, just a little here and there to take the edge off the week. And he also cut ties with a nice Minnesota girl who was waiting for him back home. He made some excuses as to why, but we think he’s been denying himself love and happiness to make up for Bjorn.”
“I see.” She was beginning to, at least, and realizing how hurt he was made her heart open a little towards her cold fiancé. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing much to say. I just wanted you to know to, well, be patient with him. He’ll come around. It’s got nothing to you, sister.” He slapped his knees and stood up from the bench. “And that cake of yours? It was perfect. Trust me. I know a good cake when I see one.” He slapped his small pot-belly and laughed before heading back into the small house.
Maggie continued to sit on her own for a while, waiting for Henry to return. When he did. She stood and said nothing, looking to him as he approached.
“Good walk?” She timidly suggested.
“Hmm.” He agreed. He was sucking on his own pipe and tapped it out on his boot. His demeanor softened. “I… I appreciate all that you’ve been doing here since you arrived. Our ways must be a bit different from Virginia and I guess that’s a burden on you, my dear.”
“I like them. I’ve always been partial to a country life and that’s what I hoped for.”
“You won’t be disappointed by that, I’m sure.” He held out a hand and she put both of hers in his. “I hope tomorrow will be everything you expected.”
“Everything needn’t meet my expectation, Henry Olander.” She quietly suggested. “All I ask for is love.”
He nodded, but said nothing. Their eyes met and she thought she recognized a flicker of interest. But before they could say anything further, he said goodnight and went into the Olander homestead for bed.
###
Autumn turned to winter, then spring and the second Olander house, a one-story, two-room building, was raised on the opposite side of the road, as was always planned. The first few fields were cleared and soon Maggie found herself in the role of a wife living and working alone without her distant husband.
That wasn’t to say they weren’t fond of each other or that she was entirely alone. Sunday meals were taken with Rose, Sven, and Tom, and the two women spoke frequently. They were part of the grange society and were active in church. But for the most part, she was alone. Rose had given birth to a beautiful daughter, Hilda, and the baby occupied much of her time. While she was recovering, Maggie had found she was doing household duties for both homes. Rose’s delivery had been complicated and it had seemed she might survive the birth. But fortune had favored them and she grew stronger.
She was cleaning her in-laws home one early May day when it started to rain. “Do you hear that?” She said to Rose in the next room. The baby was awake, so she didn’t feel the need to be too quiet. “Finally! Rain. It’s been so dry of late”
“Yes. Rain is a welcome change.” Her sister-in-law replied. “This will be good for the planting. The boys will be happy, I’m sure. The corn will grow straight and full.”
“Henry seems in better spirits, don’t you think?” She asked in an indirect, casual way. Her sweeping was nearly done and she’d need to put together lunch for the boys soon.
“I have seen so little of him. You would know better than me, Maggie.”
“He seems happier.”
“If so, it is because you have made him so. I’m sure of it.”
Maggie wasn’t at all sure of it. She and Henry shared a bed and a life together, but he didn’t pay her the kind of attention she expected of a husband. The distance between them was diminishing, and that was good, but it was so gradual. She yearned to see his affections grow to the sort of intensity she felt for Henry. There were signs of it, to be sure; but they were so fleeting, she was often left to recall the passions of their lovemaking as a sustaining memory for the week or even weeks to pass between.