Authors: Jane Prescott
She sighed without realizing it and Rose giggled in the other room. “The baby! She’s making the silliest smiles. You should come see!”
Maggie set aside the broom, but stopped when she heard shouting outside. The little house fell silent, listening.
“It’s Tom!” Maggie yelled out, and ran to the door to find out what was the matter.
The lanky boy was sprinting across the fields towards the house. “What is it?” She called to him.
“It’s Sven! We gotta get the doctor.” He ran to the barn where their pair of horses were resting in the heat of the day.
“What? I don’t understand.”
“He stumbled and fell, hit head. He’s out of his senses and there is much blood.”
She lifted her skirts and ran to the barn. “I will go.”
The boy looked confused. “I’ll do it. Henry wants you to-”
“Never mind that. I was the fastest rider in Parnell County, I expect I’m faster than you. I’ll get Doc Henderson. You do whatever Henry wanted me to do, got it?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She saddled up their younger, faster horse Zeke and quickly urged him to race down the increasingly wet road. The rain was growing in intensity, making the previously dusty lane wet and sloppy. But she knew Zeke well from morning rides she favored taking before lighting up the fire and making breakfast and coffee for them both.
They were three mile from Doc Henderson’s, a distance she rapidly covered while bending low and using all of her skill and concentration. Before the war back home, she’d been known as a good rider, not a usual undertaking for girls. But her parents were always a little different from their neighbors and had encouraged her interests. As the wind and rain lashed her pale, dripping face, she hoped that all of her time spent racing fields for fun would keep her safe in this dangerous weather.
The two-story owned by the Henderson family was in sight around a bend when the horse slipped. She nearly tumbled from her mount, but held on desperately as Zeke regained his footing. Instead of falling over himself, he slowed, corrected his pace, and was then rushing forward towards homestead.
“Help!” She cried out as she reached the yard.
The little, bespectacled man came out to his porch in his vest, jacketless. “Yes?”
She hurried to explain the situation. Doctor Emmanuel Henderson secured his medicine bag and was soon racing alongside her on his own horse. There was no point in outpacing him- though she easily could have- and she kept at his speed until they were back at the Olander farm.
Sven was already in bed, having been carried back by Tom and Henry. His head had been wrapped in cloth, which the Doctor slowly took off to inspect.
Henry took Maggie aside. His face was full of concern. “I wanted you to-”
“I knew I’d be faster, my love. Tom is not a rider, not as I am.”
He took in her mud-spattered, rain-drenched clothing and then she found his eyes meeting hers. “Yes. You have the right of it, Maggie.” He looked over at his brother and then bowed his head, clearly fighting back tears. “If anything happens to him…” He trailed off.
She placed her arms around his waist and the couple, both wet, full of worry for Sven, embraced.
###
The days passed and Sven grew stronger at much the same time his wife did. The Doctor didn’t hesitate to credit Maggie’s quick actions and speed in bringing him around to Sven’s bedside in time. Though Sven had suffered a serious blow and some blood loss, Doc Henderson was felt sure he would make a recovery if he stayed in bed for a few weeks or more.
Once Sven awoke, he immediately tried to get out of bed. Only by all four adults in his family demanding he stay put were they able to convince him to stay where he was.
“You would leave me a widow with a tiny baby?” Rose demanded. “All for a few rows of corn?”
“But the planting, dear.”
Maggie stepped in. “I’m helping with that. And though they have much to learn about making a decent stew, Henry and Thomas have been helping with the cooking and even some of the cleaning.”
Sven laughed at this. “My little bump on the head has reduced you to woman’s work, I see.” He joked, gently tapping Henry with his fist.
Henry shrugged. “All things we’d have had to do for ourselves if we weren’t lucky enough to trick these beautiful women into settling in the rough country with us. I’ll confess this ‘women’s work’ is a sight harder than I ever expected.”
When he glanced up at Maggie, she felt a rising joy in her heart as she realized he meant what he said. They had grown closer since the ride in the rain, the signs being there. This was the second compliment he’d paid her today, and the night before their love had been much more akin to what she’d fantasized about before the ride. She hoped that soon she’d carry her first child; but on the other hand, with their in-laws both needing so much help, it wasn’t the worst thing if she wasn’t experiencing morning sickness just yet.
The most important thing was that she was starting to feel real hope, and from Henry, the beginnings of a warming, deepening love.
Henry continued speaking to Sven. “Rest easy. The crops will be planted and all will be well.”
It was raining hard and the family heard the soft plinking on their roof. “How long has it been raining?” Sven asked as they all listened.
“Days. It seems to stop,” Rose informed him. “We had a day of break and that was all. Tom, Henry, and Maggie plant as often as they can between spells of rain, and it is coming along, praise God.”
Sven looked worried, but said nothing. “Bring me Hilda. I want to hold the baby for a spell, remember what my daughter looks like.”
“Only for a little while.” Rose cautioned, setting the infant beside him in the bed. “She’s getting big so fast!”
Henry and Maggie left them then to return to their own home. It was pouring rain, so they covered their heads and ran down the muddy lane to their house.
Once inside, they each collapsed into their favorite chairs. Sharing a look, they laughed at their wet countenances. “Here we are, wet again the two of us.” Henry snickered.
“Yes. Shall we dry off and read? I’m thinking of starting the “Aeneid”.”
He nodded. “Do me a favor. Read to me.”
“Really?”
“I enjoy your voice, dear. I want to hear the story from your lips.”
“Then that’s what you’ll have.” She said, getting up and standing before him. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes first.”
He smiled slyly. “Well- you can always read to me later.”
###
The rain let up for several days and it was when Sven and Rose were both starting to get around on their own much better that the storm struck.
The lead-in to the greatest storm southwestern Minnesota had seen since European settlement was merely a strong wind. They were getting in the last of the planting, all but Rose who tended to the baby and the cooking, when the winds picked up and blew away Henry’s hat.
“Drat. Be right back!” He shouted, running in the direction of his lost cap.
Maggie chuckled, watching her man run away towards the woods. A few fat drops of rain splattered across the back of her hand.
“Not again.” She muttered, seemingly to herself. Sven looked up as she spoke, scanning the sky.
“Again, I’m afraid. Rains are coming for sure. Maybe even rough one.”
“I’m tired of it. You’d think that’s all it does here, rain.”
“You’ll be glad enough of it when the summer heat returns in full. As you saw this winter, the seasons are harsh in the west. Not like your soft Virginia weather.”
Maggie shook her head. “I’ll take what comes and be glad of it. Say, who is that?”
A trio of riders on horseback passed alongside their farm. They looked to be two young people, a man and a woman, and an older woman. The three watched as the Olanders worked, then rode out of sight.
Henry was returning, gripping his hat. He was leaning into the wind. “We can’t plant much more today.” He called out. He was right; it was getting later in the day and those few drops now became a steady patter.
Maggie looked about her, disappointed. They still had two more rows to do, and it was the last field between the two farms. She had hoped to celebrate the completion of their task. But they would have to wait until tomorrow.
They gathered up their implements and trudged back to Henry and Maggie’s house. “Stay with us for some coffee before you go?” Maggie suggested. But the Sven declined.
“This could be a real storm, and I’d rather get back to the house, put everything away before things begin in earnest.”
Tom hesitated. “Would you mind if I stayed here? I’d like to be up at dawn and to work right away. Make an early start of it.”
“Fine with me. Just leave the tools in my shed and you can use our spare blankets to make yourself a bed. Sorry we’ve no guest bed.” Henry suggested.
Tom shrugged. “Floor is fine for me, thanks. All I need is something to lay on and I’ll be comfortable enough.”
They hurriedly put their things away and after wishing each other a good night, Sven trotted down the road towards his own home. Judging by the increasing winds and rain, he was wasting no time about it.
Tom warmed himself by the fire as Maggie put the kettle on. “Hope those strangers have a place to stay. I wouldn’t want to be caught out in this.”
Henry went to the front window to look out. A bolt of lightning marked the sky, followed shortly after by booming thunder.
“We get the last of the corn in tomorrow, we’ll be fine. Don’t want to go into late May, or you’re too late.” He explained to his bride. But she already knew that.
“Dear, how bad is it out there?”
“Terrible.” He cautioned, then took note at something he’d spied out in the darkness. “Horses. Three of them- oh no.”
Tom ran to the window and gasped. “What is it?” Maggie called out.
Henry grabbed his coat, as did Tom and they hurriedly put their boots on. Henry pointed to his wife. “Stay here, hon! Don’t move. We’ll be back as soon as we can. There’s been an accident.”
“What kind of accident?”
“Just stay here.”
Before she could object, the two men were out in the darkness and downpour. She went to the window to see them. There were three horses milling about the yard, and the men quickly mounted them and rode off. The third was left to stand forlornly in the rain.
She saw more lightning on the open, gloomy horizon and drew in her breath. The house was creaking from the buffeting it was taking from the strong prairie winds. She looked at the lone horse, and it looked back at her, miserable. It had been the horse the young female stranger had been riding when they’d trotted past the Olander field.
It was impossible to say where the horse’s riders were.
She thought about the storm, the rising river not far from where they were down the road. What if the river had risen and spilled across the road? Possibly the three strangers had tried to lead the horses across and, instead, been caught up in the raging flood? Such things could happen, she thought.