The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1) (6 page)

A man, so stiff he appeared to have been starched, answered the door and, despite the fact he w
as many inches shorter than Leif, peered down his nose at the pair. 

“May I help you?” the tone of the question made it seem more like an accusation, but
Leif didn’t seem to notice.

“We’re here to speak to Mr. Sodergaard,” his voice did not hint that there was any doubt the odd little man would comply.

That person narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

Briefly, Karlijna thought he would slam the door in their face, but no sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the man turned on his heel and clipped out, “Follow me.”

Leif nodded his head toward the portal and raised his bushy eyebrows in humor. Karlijna followed the man, and Leif followed her.

“Please wait here,” he led them to a large office, waited for them to get just inside, and then closed the door firmly behind them.

“What a personable man,” Leif’s expression was serious, but she knew better.

“Who is Mr. Sodergard?” Karlijna stood in the middle of the room, hand
s clasped in front of herself, and looked around the darkly furnished room with interest.

Leif
didn’t worry about formalities. He dropped into a large, leather chair, “He’s a businessman.  He owns two factories in the area.”

“You think he might give me a job in one of his factories?” Karlijna thought she understood the purpose of the visit.

Leif sat upright, “In a factory?”

Karlijna’s eyebrows puckered in bewilderment, “I thought we were here looking for a job.”

“Ah, we are, little girl.  We are.”

Karlijna would have questioned him further, but the door opened.

“ Leif,” the man who entered seemed surprised and pleased to discover who his visitor was. He turned and looked at the girl, “and who is this?”

“This
is Karlijna Bergstrom, Roald. I think you may have use for her.”

Mr. Sodergard c
ame close to inspect Karlijna. She could smell his cologne mixed with the faint odor of coffee.

“How old are you?”

“I am seventeen,” Karlijna answered him in Swedish and hoped she would not say anything wrong.

“You are G
erman?” he responded in that language.

“No, sir, Belgian.”

“Hm,” she couldn’t tell by that whether he was pleased or displeased.

He paused for a few moments as he crossed to his desk and sat on its edge, then, “But you are Jewish.”

Karlijna did not turn to look at him, but stared ahead, “No, sir.”

“You speak Swedish, obviously,” the statement didn’t require an answer, but Karlijna felt she should clarify.

“Not well, sir.”

“French?”

“Yes,” she dared to turn her eyes toward Leif at this point, but she couldn’t decipher his expression.

“What else?”

“Sir?” she actually looked the man in the eye.

“Other languages?”

“Yes, sir.  Flemish and a little English.  I know a few words in Polish, but they are not helpful.”

The last part slipped out
, and Karlijna was glad he didn’t ask what the words were.  She had inadvertently learned them from some of the other prisoners. Rude and angry prisoners.

“Where is your family?”

Karlijna had not expected this question. She could not answer past the lump in her throat.  Despite months to accustom herself to their absence, she had not yet accepted it.

Leif
saw her dilemma, “Miss Bergstrom’s family was torn apart by Nazis, Roald.  They are gone.”

Mr. Sodergard nodded, “I’m sorry.”

After a few moments’ silence, he moved back in front of her, “I believe I have a job for you. It does not include housing accommodations, at the time. Will this be a problem?”

Karlijna was about to tell him she could not take the job, but
Leif interrupted, “It will not be a problem. She is staying in my back room and may remain there for as long as necessary.”

Karlijna turned grateful eyes toward him.

“Very well,” her new boss seemed pleased, “We will expect you to work on Monday morning.”

The men spoke a few minutes of personal matters before shuff
ling Karlijna out of the room. The trio was nearly to the front door when she had the presence of mind to stop and speak.

“I’m sorry, sir,” her voice trembled in her forwardness, “but I don’t know where to report to.  Where are the factories?”

Mr. Sodergard looked momentarily confused, “Factories?”

“The factory where I will work.”

Mr. Sodergard looked at Leif, “You told her she would work in a factory?” 

H
e didn’t wait for an answer, “I do not hire young ladies for factory work.  I need you here in my home.”

Karlijna began to speak – to say she did not understand, but he continued.

“You will be needed mostly in the day, but, on occasion, you will have to be here in the evenings as well.”

Karlijna smiled, finally realizing what her job would be
. She had never been household help, but she knew she could do it.

She felt she should warn him of her limitations
, “My Swedish is not very good.”

“I think your Swedish is fine, but we can communicate in German if
that better suits you. I only have a problem with French.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Karlijna didn’t ask any more questions of Mr. Sodergaard .  She was content to have a job and knew she would find out the details as she needed them.

One thing did concern her
, and she brought it up as soon as she and Leif were on their way back to his store, “You told Mr. Sodergaard that I would stay at your store.”

“Yes, I think that would be fine,” he explained.  “Nobody else needs to use it
, and the store is not a long walk to here.”

“Thank you,” Karlijna acknowledged, but continued, “How much will I pay for the rent?”

Leif stopped walking and looked down at the girl with a scowl, “Rent?  There will be no rent. I never charged you rent before.”

Karlijna only stopped for a moment before continuing down the path, “I worked for you before.  It was part of my pay.”

Leif followed her, shocked into temporary silence. 

“So,” she resumed the conversation minutes later, “how much will I pay for rent?”

Leif didn’t answer. She could see he had heard her because of the firm set of his jaw, but he walked on without comment.

“Very well,” she kept pace with him as she spoke, “I shall find a new place today.”

Leif must have seen he was not going to sway her so he named a price. It was ridiculously low, but she accepted it.

“Thank you,
Leif,” she responded softly.

Mr. Gun
derson was still at his uncle’s home when Leif and Karlijna arrived. Ingrid was eager to hear how the job search went, and, when she heard of the success, the good woman declared the need for a celebration.

Karlijna was embarrassed at the thought,
“Please,” she shook her head, “do not go to trouble for me. You have done so much.”

Ingr
id would not be put off, though.

“You just sit here with Michael,” she led the girl to a chair in the small living area while divesting her of her coat, “I’ll have a small feast put together
, and we will rejoice over this blessing.”

Karlijna would have rather helped in the kitchen than tried to hold a conversation with the Am
erican, but she saw no way to say so without offending him.

She grappled for a topic even as she wondered whether she should speak in English or Swedish.  Obviously, his Swedish was no better than hers
, and her English was so poor, she might end up saying something completely inappropriate.

He took the decision from her hands by addressing her in English.

“Did you grow up here?”

“No,” she spoke slowly to find the pro
per words, “I am from Belgium. I only did come two months before.”

He smiled at her, and she realized he had a dimple in one cheek. It made him seem friendlier. Karlijna relaxed a little.

“Are you related to Ingrid?”

“Related?” Karlijna was not sure what the word meant.

He seemed to understand the
problem, “Is she your family? An aunt or cousin?”

Karlijna shook her head, relieved at comprehending, but wondering how to explain.

“I am not related, as you say. I am vork for Leif and Ingrid for a small time. Now I find new job and pay for a room to live here.”

“Oh,” Mr. Gunderson did not seem put out by this, “Is your family still in Belgium?”

With great effort, Karlijna kept the tears from her eyes, “No. My family vas killed in the var.”

The young man gently touched her hand
, “I am sorry, Miss Bergstrom. It has been a terrible war.  So many innocent people have died.”

Karlijna did not know what innocent meant, but she
recognized his compassion. She swallowed hard and looked down at her hands.

After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat and turned back to her companion, “How long vill you be in Sweden?”

He looked surprised at the change in topic but rallied, “I’ll leave here on Sunday. I only had a short break.”

Karlijna went to bed early on Sunday night, thinking to be more refreshed the following day.  However, she coul
d not sleep due to her nerves. At the time it had seemed prudent to remain silent, but as she turned from side to side throughout the night, Karlijna could not help but wish she had asked more questions about her duties. 

Was she to be a m
aid? That she could handle. She had never done it before, but she was not afraid of hard work. She knew what most of the duties of her own family’s maid had been and had even helped out on occasion.

Maybe Mr. Sodergaa
rd expected her to cook. That would be a disaster. For, though she could make a few simple meals, Karlijna was not adept in the kitchen.

The young woman could have stewed on it all night, but realized it was not going to h
elp her.  She needed her rest. Telling herself this was not going to make it more likely to happen so she did what she had for years when she needed to calm herself.

“‘
The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want,’” she forced herself to take a deep breath and unclasp her tightly folded hands.

“’He makes me lie down in green pastures,” she pulled the rough wool blanket up to her chin.

“He leads me beside the still waters.  He restores my soul.”

Karlijna
felt herself slipping out of consciousness as the rest of the words flitted through her mind, not necessarily in their proper order.

Despite her restless night, she woke the next morning early, full of ener
gy and enthusiasm for the day. Leif was just coming into the store to open up as she was fastening the buttons on her jacket.

“Good morning, Karlijna,” he grinned at her, “are
you off to work so early?  And with no breakfast?”

“I am,” she pulled a scarf from her pocket and began to tie it around her head.  “I do not wish to make a bad impression.”

Leif took her elbow, “Then I think it would be wise not to go yet.”

Karlijna went willingly with him, but frowned at his words.

“It is but six in the morning.  They will not wish you to intrude on their sleep, nor their breakfast.”

He didn’t add that she needed to eat to keep her strength for the job.

Ingrid fed her young charge a large breakfast. It was amazing, even to Karlijna that she could force any food down, so nervous was she.  Ingrid, however, had no intention of letting the girl go anywhere without ample food in her stomach.

“Thank you for the food,” Karlijna helped clean the dishes once she had eaten her fill, and began to pull her light sweater back on her shoulders, “I should start off.”

Ingrid handed her a brown paper package, “Don’t forget this.”

Karlijna looked at it in confusion, “What is this?”

“That is your dinner,” Ingrid’s voice was matter-of-fact.

Karlijna smiled, realizing that food for a noon meal had not occurred to her before that, “Thank you, Ingrid.”

Ingrid gave the girl a quick hug, “You’re welcome.”

Karlijna found her way back to th
e large house with no problem. She took a deep breath and stepped up to the door. Gathering all her courage, she knocked firmly on the portal. There was no answer.

The young girl wondered if she
had misunderstood. Maybe there was nobody here this morning or she was to report to a different location. She stood a moment in indecision.

The girl had nearly decided to
leave to find Leif when she noticed the doorbell. Remembering Leif using that, she touched it lightly. When that did not elicit a response, she pushed again, harder this time.

Expecting the same man who had answered the door before, Karlijna was pleasantly surprised when Mr. Sodergaard, himself, greeted her, speaking in Swedish.

“Miss Bergstrom,” he smiled and stepped aside to allow her entry, “you are here early.”

The girl flushed, “I
hope I am not disturbing you. We did not discuss a time so I thought to come early would be better than to come late.”

“You are right about that,” he agreed as he walked ahead of her into his study, “please sit down.”

Karlijna did as she was bid while he sat in a chair next to her.

“I assume you are able to read and write in all the languages we discussed?”

Karlijna nodded, wondering if planned to write down her instructions, “I am able, but as I am still learning Swedish, I have had little time for reading.”

The man nodd
ed, “I think you do very well. Do you not find it similar to German?”

She tilted her head to the side, “S
ome of the sounds are similar. They are more like each other than English or French.”

“I
ndeed,” he scrutinized her. “Do you always wear that scarf?”

She touched the grey fabric
, “I have a red one as well.”

He blinked as if confused but didn’t question her further.

Instead, he rose and retrieved a stack of papers from his desk.

“I do business
, mostly in Sweden, but also in France and England. I used to travel to these places, but with the war, I conduct most things through correspondence.”

Karlijna was becoming more c
onfused by the moment. She wished he would explain to her what her principal duties were to be. It would probably be best if he would take her to the housekeeper for instruction. She knew better than to rush her employer, however. She nodded at the times she thought appropriate.

Mr. Sodergaard walked to a smaller desk in the corner of the room and laid the papers down, “This will be your desk.  I will be in here from time to time, but that shouldn’t interfere with your work.”

Karlijna felt she must be honest now, “Mr. Sodergaard,” she spoke up as loudly as she dared, “I don’t know what it is I am to be doing.  Am I not here to be a maid. . .or a kitchen helper?”

The man’s shocked face would have been comical if the girl herself hadn’t been so puzzled.

“A maid?” he finally managed, “Why would I employ a girl with your talents as a maid?”

“My talents, sir?” she shook her head, “I really have no talents.”

Mr. Sodergaard shook his head, an amused look covering his features, “You have more talent than you think.”

H
e moved to sit down next to her again, “I hired you to work as my interpreter.  I am sorry I was not more clear.”

“An interpreter?”

“Yes, Miss Bergstrom.  I need someone to tell me what the letters from my French associates say.”  He leaned back in his chair and smiled, “They, of course, have their own interpreters who rewrite the letters in Swedish, but I have learned through experience not to trust anyone, but my own man.  Or,” he added with a sheepish grin, “my own woman.”

Karlijna swallowed hard.
She wondered if Leif had any idea what she was getting into.  Disappointment surged through her.  Hoping not to offend, she spoke up.

“Mr. Sodergaard,” she forced herself to look into his eyes, “I think you ar
e mistaken about my abilities. I do not have training with interpreting. I only speak those languages because we were taught them as children. I have never worked at this kind of job before,” she rose. “I am sorry for having taken up your valuable time.”

“Miss Bergstrom,” he rose with her and restrained her with a hand on
her arm, “I was not mistaken. This is a job you can do.”

She shook her head and began to protest again but he stopped her.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Miss Bergstrom. You try this job for five days,” he released her and went to sit behind his desk. “If it does not suit you, then, after those five days are over, I will find you a different job.”

Karlijna found herself nodding, “In one of your factories.”

The man shook his head, “No, that is not work for a woman – especially not one as small as you, but I will find something.”

Karlijna walked over to the small desk and sat d
own, “Alright, Mr. Sodergaard. I will try this job for five days.”

As sure as Karlijna had been that the job would not work for her, she was pleasantly surprised
to find she enjoyed her tasks. The first two weeks, the work was very steady. Mr. Sodergaard said this was because he was so behind in his correspondence. 

Once she caught up on all that, the
interpreting work was spotty. Mr. Sodergaard gave her filing and other odd jobs to do to fill in the gaps. When she suggested she only work three days a week to save him some money, he laughed at her.

“I’m n
ot going to do that, Karlijna. You may hire yourself out to someone else for the remaining days and then where would I be?  I need you too much.”

Karlijna smiled at the thought, realizing he could hire anybody he wanted
to at the wage he was paying. She was grateful for the job, though, and didn’t try again to convince him to lessen her hours.

Occasionally, he would let her go home ea
rly if he had no jobs for her. One of such days, she decided to visit Rachel and Regina.