Sophie's Dilemma (30 page)
Here he was teasing a young woman and truly enjoying himself and not giving a thought to Maddie.
Forgive me, dear one, but perhaps it is
time to look forward instead of back. As soon as I can bring the children
here, we could be a real family again
. Was that possible without their mother? Perhaps they were better off left in Minneapolis with his mother and sister caring for them. He’d had this discussion with himself many times before. Until he could buy the lot and build the house, it would have to remain a dream.
‘‘Mr. Wiste, am I boring you?’’
Garth saw Lemuel wink at his sister.
‘‘Why, no. Whatever makes you think that?’’
She rattled the paper again. ‘‘I-I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer. I thought perhaps—’’ ‘‘No, I . . .’’ He shook his head. ‘‘Forgive me, but sometimes my mind just takes off on its own and leaves me behind.’’ He pushed his chair back. ‘‘Thank you for a delicious and enjoyable meal.’’ He stood as he spoke and nodded to the group.
‘‘Would you like to take the paper?’’
‘‘No thanks. I’d be asleep before I read two words. Thank you for keeping me up on the news.’’
And on my toes
. ‘‘See you all in the morning.’’
That night he dreamed of his wife, for the first time in quite some time. When he woke, all he remembered was her going away from him and blowing kisses, her smile dimming as she drew farther away. Happiness and joy seemed to flow from her, washing over him, curling around his heart, and lapping against his cheek. He lay in bed, hesitating to brave the cold. His dream had felt like spring. Somehow the wind whining at his window made spring seem like it would never come.
Lord, this may be the longest winter of my life, but
I know that you are here, and I thank you for the dream
. It had seemed so real. Was there a message in it? He thought a moment more.
When
had he started praying again?
D
ear Mr. and Mrs. Bjorklund,
It is with great delight and yet trepidation that I am writing to ask a monumental favor. I nearly boarded the train to come and ask this of you in person, but I decided it might be easier for you to say no in a letter or telegram, if that is your decision.
Ingeborg paused in the reading. Considering how long it had been since she’d heard from her New York friend, this was certainly a strange beginning to a letter. She returned to the letter.
My son Jonathan will be graduating from preparatory school and has been accepted at Harvard in the fall. I would like him to spend the summer working on a farm so that he gains an understanding of a way of life different from that in which he was raised. I want him to work with his hands and his back and not just his brains, for I am afraid we have spoiled him somewhat with all the privileges he has had of wealth. Could he possibly work on your farm? I would request that you give him the same jobs you give your children and without any pay. I am the one who will pay you for his room and board and the training I hope you will give him. If you do not have room for him to live with you, then he can live at the boardinghouse, but I do hope you can find room for him with you. Ingeborg laid the letter in her lap and stared out the window.
I know this is a burden on both you and our friendship, but I beg of you to consider it. How dearly I would enjoy having you all come here to visit. My city has changed greatly since you were here. I know of wholesalers who would like to stock your cheese and will write about that later. You have an excellent reputation here and everywhere.
We are all well here, and I hope the same is true for you.
Your friend and servant,
David Jonathan Gould
Ingeborg laid the letter in her lap and stared out the window.
Gould’s son coming here? To live with them? What a preposterous
idea. Why, he was used to servants and a huge house and every advantage
imaginable. She glanced through the letter again. Nowhere did he
say his son was in agreement. Would he feel he was being banished to
the prairie for three months? They did have room. He could use
Andrew’s room, and they always needed more hands in the summer.
But this young man knew nothing about milking cows or running
machinery. He probably knew how to ride and drive horses-well, ride
anyway. They had a coachman to drive the horses. And they most likely
had one of those new automobiles by now.
What would Haakan say about this? But after all that Mr. Gould had done for them, how could they say no?
Haakan reiterated her thoughts after he read the letter. They finished dinner before she gave it to him. He looked up, then returned to read it again. ‘‘We can always use more hands. Of course the ones we usually use are well callused and already know what to do. What do you suppose ‘somewhat spoiled’ means?’’
‘‘I don’t know.’’
‘‘Hmm. I wonder. Does the son want to do this?’’
‘‘He doesn’t say.’’
‘‘Well, if he wants to work, this is the right place to come.’’
Ingeborg nodded. ‘‘He must be close to the same age as Astrid. Such different lives they have led.’’
‘‘But how can we not?’’
‘‘I know. Shall we talk it over with Thorliff and Andrew?’’
‘‘And Astrid. She’ll be around him the most. We better pray about this and not make a hurried decision.’’ Haakan folded the paper along its creases and tapped the fold on his other forefinger. ‘‘I wonder what ever gave Mr. Gould an idea like this.’’
That first Sunday in February when the family all gathered for dinner at Ingeborg’s, she passed the letter around. While Kaaren and Andrew had already read it, the others laughed and joked at the possibilities.
‘‘So what are you going to do?’’ Thorliff asked while his wife finished reading.
‘‘We’re all going to talk about it. We want to hear what you think.’’ Haakan tipped his chair back on two legs, caught Ingeborg’s glare, and eased it back to four-point contact with the floor.
‘‘What if he doesn’t want to come?’’ Astrid asked.
‘‘Or comes and doesn’t want to stay?’’ Andrew started to copy his father in leaning his chair back, caught his wife’s throat clearing, and changed his mind.
‘‘Guess that’s between him and his pa.’’ Haakan picked up his coffee cup and propped his elbows on the table. Taking a sip, he wrinkled his nose.
‘‘Need a warm up?’’ Ingeborg brought the coffeepot and, after filling Haakan’s, motioned to the other family members gathered around the table. As she went around filling cups, she rested her hand on the shoulder of the cup holder. When one of them passed the cream pitcher, she thought back to Chicago and Haakan’s bringing her the lovely clear glass pitcher and sugar bowl as a gift. He who never went shopping but for machinery. She smiled to herself. Ah, the joy of all those present. No longer did she take having everyone home around the table for granted. Both of her sons lived in their own houses, and the death of Hamre still lay heavy on her heart. So unexpected.
When Ellie’s baby kicked up a fuss, Ingeborg held out her arms. ‘‘Here, let me hold him. You finish your coffee.’’
Taking the baby, she strolled around the kitchen, baby Carl against her shoulder with Bestemor patting the tiny back. How good it felt to hold a baby again, to have babies in their house. She hummed and brought herself back into the discussion.
‘‘What could it hurt?’’ Andrew raised and dropped his hands. ‘‘We get a free hand for the summer; he gets a taste of farm life. He goes back to New York, we go on as we always have. Shame he can’t be here to go with the crew on harvest. Now, that would be a real education for him.’’
‘‘His name is Jonathan.’’
‘‘Okay, so getting his hands dirty for a change might be real good for Jonathan.’’
Ingeborg raised an eyebrow at the tone of her son’s voice, especially the inflection he put on the young man’s name. ‘‘I doubt he’ll be afraid to get his hands dirty.’’
Andrew had the grace to flush at the censure in his mother’s voice. He cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her. ‘‘We all know that city boys have a hard time of it in the country.’’ His sally made the others laugh.
‘‘And country boys wouldn’t have a hard time in the city?’’ It was Haakan’s turn to raise his eyebrows.
‘‘Nah,’’ Andrew said. ‘‘Country boys are more adaptable.’’
‘‘Andrew Bjorklund.’’ Ellie smacked her husband on the shoulder. ‘‘What a thing to say.’’
‘‘We should all go to Minneapolis to see the wonder horse, Beautiful Jim Key. That’d give you a taste of the city,’’ Thorliff told his younger brother. ‘‘See how you like it.’’
‘‘Oh, wouldn’t that be marvelous.’’ Astrid clapped both arms around her middle. ‘‘You think he can really do all those things they say, or is it all a fake?’’
‘‘I think he’s really that smart. Remember how we taught old Jack to shake hands and bow?’’ he asked his sister over his shoulder. ‘‘And he was a mule, a stubborn old mule.’’
‘‘I’ve heard it said that mules are smarter than horses.’’ Haakan sipped his coffee and caught his wife’s eye with a smile.
‘‘I don’t know if mules are smarter, but they sure are sneakier,’’ Astrid said with a grin. She’d been pushed into the stall wall more than once by Jack.
‘‘Well, think how fast Paws took to herding cattle. He’d watch for hand motions—didn’t even need us to shout at him.’’ Thorliff smiled at his wife rocking Inga, who was almost asleep.
‘‘Wouldn’t it be fun to go?’’ Astrid leaned on her father’s shoulder.
Haakan turned to look at her. ‘‘Who would milk the cows?’’
‘‘Don’t you want to go?’’ She stared at him, surprise widening her eyes.
Haakan shook his head. ‘‘Not really. I like it right here. That Chicago trip about made me sick, all the stink and noise and dirt. Big cities aren’t for me.’’
‘‘Minneapolis isn’t as bad as Chicago.’’ Elizabeth added to the conversation. ‘‘Having been both places, I’d say there’s a world of difference. If we went, we could go to Northfield and visit my parents. I know they’d love to keep Inga with them while we went to the show.’’
‘‘You could write it all up for the
Blessing Gazette
and then sell the article to other papers.’’ Astrid smiled at her brother.
‘‘Now there’s a thought,’’ Thorliff said. ‘‘I never would have come up with it myself.’’
‘‘Go ahead and be sarcastic,’’ Astrid countered. ‘‘I think it would be the most wonderful thing in the world to do. He’s almost as famous as Black Beauty.’’
‘‘Black Beauty wasn’t real. Beautiful Jim Key is.’’ Andrew turned to his wife. ‘‘You think he could spell Thorliff or Trygve?’’
‘‘Would you like to go?’’ Haakan looked to Ingeborg, now swaying from side to side with a sleeping baby in her arms.
‘‘Yes and no.’’
‘‘Now, there’s a definitive answer for you.’’ Thorliff grinned at his pa.
‘‘Yes, if we could all go. No, if you decided not to.’’
Haakan nodded. ‘‘We shall see.’’
They all stopped talking at the jingle of sleigh bells. Ingeborg handed the baby back to Ellie and went to the door. ‘‘Pastor Solberg, come on in.’’
‘‘No. I just came to get you all,’’ he said from atop his horse.
‘‘There’s something you have to come and see.’’
‘‘Right now?’’
‘‘You wouldn’t want to miss out.’’
‘‘Where?’’
‘‘At Hjelmer’s.’’
‘‘I thought he was in Bismarck.’’
‘‘He was. You have to come see.’’ Solberg backed his horse. ‘‘I’m going over to Lars’s. See you in a bit.’’
‘‘It must be something really important if he wants us all to come.’’
Haakan shoved his chair back.
‘‘Are we all going?’’ Astrid asked.
‘‘Why not? It’s Sunday afternoon and awhile before chores need to be done,’’ he said. ‘‘I’ll get the sleigh.’’
‘‘We’ll take our sleigh and go home from Hjelmer’s.’’ Thorliff stood too and patted his wife’s shoulder. ‘‘Figured it was someone needing a doctor. Come on, Andrew. You can help harness up.’’
The women bundled themselves and the children and were ready when the teams drove up to the house. Once they were all snuggled under the buffalo robe that was kept for winter travel, Ingeborg said, ‘‘And here we were all having such a serious discussion and never decided anything about Mr. Gould’s son, Jonathan. We just took off about that horse and now this. Uff da. You just never know.’’
‘‘But going to see Beautiful Jim Key would really be fun, don’t you think?’’ Astrid tucked her mittened hand through her mother’s arm and laid her head on her shoulder. ‘‘Ride the train to Minneapolis and see the sights. Go to Northfield. Maybe Thorliff would give me a tour of St. Olaf. I wonder if they have a nursing school there now.’’
‘‘Would you want to go there?’’
‘‘I don’t know. I’d like to see the place.’’
‘‘But Elizabeth really wants you to go to Chicago.’’
‘‘I know, but there is the nursing school at the college in Grand Forks, and that is closer to home. I could come home sometimes on the train for even a couple of days.’’
Ingeborg heard a note of wistfulness in her daughter’s voice. ‘‘You know, you don’t have to go away at all if you don’t want to.’’
‘‘I know. I read about some doctors getting all their training from another doctor. So I suppose nurses can do that too. But if we build a hospital here and I want to work there, then I want to make sure I know all I need to know.’’