The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1) (26 page)

They gave me food, clothing, a letter from the general who released me and pointed me in the direction of
Sweden. I walked for days without encountering anyone. It was bitterly cold and I only slept when I could sneak into a barn or abandoned building to do so. Finally, I came to Sweden and thought I would be able to find refuge.

The outer clothing I was wearing was simil
ar to the Nazi uniform. I was cornered by a Swedish farmer. The rifle he held to my head was so old, I was not certain it would still fire, but I did not dare take a chance. I believe we stood for over two hours arguing about why I was there.

I think
I had almost convinced the man to simply take me to the authorities. Then his son came in from the field and shoved a pitchfork through my thigh. The young man had already had an encounter with a Nazi soldier and bore a bullet in his own thigh as a result. He dragged into town where I explained to the local law enforcement that I was an American. They did not believe me either. Even after looking at my dog tags, they would not release me. Not that I could have gone anywhere. Despite their attention to it, my leg had become badly infected and they nearly cut it off.

I don't know if I would have lived much longer, but Sam and
Leif found me.  I heard a familiar voice shouting in the outer room of the jail. It was Sam. I sat up and called back.

Leif
convinced the officials that I was his nephew and an American soldier. They released me, and Sam got me to London where they were able to save my leg.

I am sorry to say that my behavior has not been godly since that
point. At first I tried to do ask they asked. I did all the therapy they offered, but when the pain persisted and I saw no improvement, I became discouraged.  The doctor – an Army colonel – told me I would probably always walk with crutches, but I should be grateful to be walking at all.

I couldn't be grateful.
I wanted to have the same body as before. I was ashamed to come back to you less than what you knew.

My mother
told me about Sara and Harry. I am sure that hearing I was writing to Melba was something like Sara receiving letters from him after he had married. I am sorry if that seems the case. I would like you to know that by the time I came to get you, I had not written to her in over a month. If she says otherwise, she is not telling the truth. It is also not true that she and I ever had an agreement. I never made promises to any girl besides you. I have never loved any other girl.

I hope your feelings have not changed since
you wrote the letter in June. I hope you still want me. You did not mention much of your feelings in the letters that followed, and it makes me nervous.  The hope I have is your telegram.

I will work hard here
, and I will come home. Please do not give up on me yet. Please continue to pray and love me.

I will always love you,

Michael

             
He finished the letter and handed it to a nurse, “Can you mail this for me?”

             
“I'll go do it right away, Captain,” she promised.

             
Michael wheeled himself toward the therapy room and looked in. Nobody was there. He felt a mixture of relief and disappointment when he realized he was going to have to wait. He turned around to see Sam.

             
“I'm sorry about the letter,” Sam stood with his hands in his pockets.

             
Michael wheel back a little so he wouldn't have to look directly up at his friend, “No, you're not.”

             
“You're right,” Sam walked behind him and pushed him into the therapy room, “I'm not. You were acting like a little boy who didn't get the candy he wanted.”

             
Michael lifted the leg rests and set his feet on the floor, “I appreciate the comparison.”

             
Sam handed him his crutches and helped him to his feet.

             
Michael leaned into them, “I hate these things.”

             
“You'd rather ride around in your carriage, I suppose?” Sam pointed at the chair.

             
Michael heaved forward, “Point taken.”

             
By the end of the hour, Michael had managed to cross the room four times and wear himself out thoroughly.

             
“I think you had better quit,” Sam cautioned. “You're not going to be able to do anything tomorrow.”

             
Michael sat down in relief.

             
“Thanks, Sam,” he said as the other man dropped him off at the ward.

             
Sam stood at the doorway, “I'm heading out tomorrow. I should be back by the middle of next month.”

             
“Be safe,” Michael offered a hand to his friend.

             
“Work hard,” Sam replied before turning down the hall.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE

The sun shone brig
htly across the remaining snow. Karlijna felt she could see it melt. She inhaled the sweet smell of the animals mixed with mud and new growth.

             
John came to stand beside her, “It smells great out here doesn't it?”

             
Karlijna nodded, “I love spring.”

             
“Don't get too used to it,” he laughed.  “We're not done with winter yet.”

             
She frowned at him, “You are kidding, aren't you?”

             
He turned to leave, “It's only April first. We've got at least another month of snow.”

             
Karlijna sighed and was about to go back into the barn to start the evening milking when the mail carrier drove up to their box. He quickly deposited something before waving and continuing on.

             
Karlijna tried to tell herself not to get her hopes up, but she could not convince herself there was nothing in there from Michael. She managed to keep her feet from running, but she held her breath as she looked through the envelopes.

             
A letter.

             
She tucked the remaining mail into her coat pocket and slit open the envelope.  She began to read as she walked toward the house, but found she couldn't do both, so she stood still and read.   

             
Louisa saw her standing in the yard and knew Michael must have written. She did not go out to Karlijna, but to her husband.

             
“I hope it’s good news,” he said as he repaired the hinge on a door. “Michael is not the only one who has been hurting.”

             
Louisa watched John for a while, “I didn't even think about it being bad news,” she admitted.  “I just assumed he had come to his senses.”

             
John looked down at his wife with a smile, “How are you feeling?”

             
Louisa rubbed her belly, “Your son is getting too big for me.”

             
“My daughter is just getting ready to meet us.”

             
Louisa laughed.

             
Karlijna appeared in the doorway a few minutes later.

             
“Good news?” John didn't need to hear an answer.

             
Her smiled stretched further.

“I have some
mail for you,” she reached into her pocket, “but I doubt you will like yours as much as I liked mine.”

             
Louisa took the mail, “You're right,” she scanned the letters. “He won't.”

             
Karlijna walked over and sat next to the bawling cow.

             
“If you want to write back right now,” Louisa offered, “I'll do the milking.”

             
Karlijna laughed and was rewarded with a tail in her face, “I don't think you can reach that far around yourself. I'll write back later tonight.”

Dear Michael,
                April 1, 1945

We got news today that the troops in the Pacific have invaded an island.  It seems so far away – not like the war in Europe which always looms overhead for me. 

Am I selfish to believe that the better news was your letter to me?  That you are alive and love me is the most wonderful thing in the world. I do not care about any injury to your body. It cannot change the man I know unless you allow it to. You are my hero and my love.

I am enjoying
life on the farm. I have never felt so well in my life. The air is clear out here and the work is invigorating (I just learned that word from a book I got at the Zumbrota library.)  I long to share the spring days with you and explore the woods and fields together.

Part of me wishes you would be sent ho
me, but I am not that selfish. I know you will stay until your job is done and I am proud of you for that. Work hard.

I am praying for strength and determination as you struggle toward your goals.

All my love,

Karlijna

April 12, 1945

“John, Karlijna,” Louisa came out
to the barn looking for them. They were not to be found.

             
She went to look in the chicken coop and found Karlijna, “Do you know where John is?”

             
Karlijna lying on the floor, facing a corner, was working on something.  Her voice was muffled, “He said he was running down to see how far the creek had run over its banks.”

             
Louisa didn't respond so Karlijna sat up, “Is something wrong?”

             
Louisa nodded, tears in her eyes, but didn't speak.

             
Karlijna jumped to her feet, “Is it the baby?”

             
“No,” Louisa shook her head.  “It is the president.”

             
“President Roosevelt?” Karlijna couldn't see why Louisa would be crying about the president.

             
“He died.”

             
Karlijna began to cry with her friend, “I'll go get John,” she said as she started out the door.

             
“Don't frighten him,” Louisa called after her.  “He may think it is the baby too and have a heart attack before he arrives.”

             
Karlijna hardly took note of the words. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her. John was on his way back when she found him.

             
She told him the news and he returned with her to the house. They joined Louisa in the house and listened to the radio announcements together. 

             
“This is very hard for the people,” Karlijna commented. “We are at the end of the war, but the man who led us through will not be here to lead us in our peace.”

             
“That is hard,” Louisa agreed.

             
John reached over and squeezed his wife's hand.

             
“It will be a long night,” Louisa's pain was evident on her features.

             
Karlijna studied her friend, “Louisa?”

             
John stood up, “I'm going to head out and bring the cows in. Karlijna, you coming?”

             
“In a minute,” she narrowed her eyes.

             
After John left Karlijna stood up, “Shall I call the doctor?”

             
Louisa shook her head, “Go get the chores done. John will need his strength tonight.”

             
Karlijna settled her hands on her hips, “As will you. How long has this been going on?”

             
“Only since we began listening to the radio.  It may stop once I stand up.”

             
Karlijna moved toward the door, “I'm going to milk. I'll come back and check on you.  Do not,” she warned, “overwork yourself or I will tell John right now.”

             
Louisa laughed, “You wouldn't dare.”

             
Karlijna assured her she would before she headed out.

             
Karlijna tried not to hurry through the milking because she would surely do a poor job and endanger a cow, but she did not dawdle in the barn afterwards.

             
“You're not staying to help clean up?” John called after her.

             
“I'll be back, John. I just need to check on something.”

             
Louisa was standing at the sink – obviously in the middle of a pain. Karlijna waited until the woman relaxed before speaking or approaching.

             
“Is there anything I can do?” she offered.

             
“They are coming every seven minutes,” Louisa breathed.  “I should call Doctor Hoff.”

             
“I'll do it,” Karlijna picked up the phone and called the doctor's home.

             
“Hello?” Mrs. Hoff answered.

             
“I'm calling for Louisa Porter. It is her time.”

             
Mrs. Hoff spoke to someone else in the room then to Karlijna, “How far apart are her pains?”

             
“Seven minutes.”

             
“Is she still able to move around?”

             
“Yes,” Karlijna noted that Louisa had gone back to making supper. “She looks comfortable between her pains.”

             
“Well, tell John to calm down and let her do what makes her comfortable.”

             
“John doesn't know yet. He's out in the barn.”

             
Mrs. Hoff laughed, “Good for her. The worst part is the husband hovering. He should stay outside until Louisa wants him.”

             
Karlijna glanced over at Louisa who was obviously in some discomfort at the time, “Better him than me,” she muttered.

             
“Your time will come soon enough,” the woman promised. “You may benefit from this experience.”

             
Karlijna bid the doctor's wife goodbye.

             
Louisa was recovering, “You'd better get back out there or John will get suspicious.”

             
“Are you sure you don't want him in here?”

             
Louisa laughed, “When I broke my leg a couple years ago, John hovered so much that I went to stay with my mom for a week. He'll be in for supper in about half an hour and there will be no getting him back out after that.”

             
Karlijna went to put her barn shoes back on, “I'll see you then.”

             
Louisa was so good at putting on an act that John did not immediately notice his wife was in labor.

             
“It smells good in here,” he called out as he cleaned up.  “What are we having?”

             
Louisa grimaced and waited a moment before calling back, “Beef stew.”

             
He came in and pressed a kiss to his wife's temple, “Great.”

             
Karlijna tried to keep up a conversation while they ate, so John wouldn't know the situation, but she was having trouble thinking of things to say. It was a relief when the meal was over.

             
John turned on the radio as he ran the water in the sink, “I wonder what is happening now.”

             
Karlijna gaped at Louisa who just smiled and shook her head.

             
John began washing the dishes, but stopped and looked out the window when he heard a car.

             
“Who could that be at this hour? It's nearly seven o'clock.”

             
Karlijna breathed a sigh of relief that the doctor had arrived. Louisa was serene and sweeping under the table, leaving her task only to lean on the broom and breath through a pain.

             
John went to answer the door and was surprised by the person he found on the other side, “Dr. Hoff, what can I do for you?”

             
The doctor laughed, “That's a first.”

              He came in without invitation.

             
Karlijna turned to Louisa, “You should be on stage.”

             
“I (puff) was just (puff) thinking (puff),” she stopped for a moment to regain control, “about you.”

             
John caught on, “You mean you're in labor and you didn't tell me?”

             
“Quiet down, young man,” the doctor removed his coat and handed it to Karlijna. “We do as the mother wants in cases such as this.”             

             
“John,” Louisa reached out a hand, “would you mind going down to the cellar? I think I have some canned peaches left down there. They're behind the cherries.”

             
Karlijna could hardly believe Louisa wanted peaches at a time like this. She began to offer to go instead of John, but Louisa squeezed her hand.

             
“There are no peaches,” she rasped.  “Get me into the bedroom.”

             
By the time John got back up, his wife was in bed with her nightgown on.

             
“It may be a long stretch,” Doctor Hoff told them.  “You should all try to get some sleep.”