Astrid woke up early on July the fourth, 1905, to the song of waking birds, a rooster crowing, and her husband still asleep beside her. Usually Daniel was up before she was, unless she’d had an emergency during the night. Resisting the urge to snuggle close to him and drift back to sleep, she slid out of bed and tiptoed downstairs to start the stove and the coffee. She’d baked two cakes the night before and had a cast-iron pot of baked beans ready to put in the oven.
She had baked the beans partway the day before. Everyone in town had been cooking and baking, so there would be plenty of food. The men had started the fires in the trench the night before and put the steer on at three in the morning over a deep bed of fiery coals. Daniel had helped with that, so he deserved to sleep a little longer.
Standing at the back screen door barefoot and in her light wrapper, she inhaled the still cool air. So far, there was not a cloud in the sky, and the breeze barely kissed her forehead. How she wished she had shade trees in the backyard. The maple, oak, and cottonwood they had planted could hardly be designated as shade trees yet. Shade saplings, maybe.
She tossed her dishwater on the rosebushes along the front of her house, just like her mor had for all those years. Even though they had a hand pump in the kitchen, she refused to waste the precious water, remembering the days when they had to pump it and haul it in.
Lord, thank you for such a gorgeous day. No rain, no heat. Tiptoeing back upstairs, she gathered her clothes and took them into the bathroom to dress. As she bundled her hair into a snood, to be braided later, she thought about her far. Stubborn, yes. But that stubbornness was what was helping him recover. He was not the kind to give up.
None of them were.
“You’re out!”
“Awwww . . .” The groans from the spectators rose as one.
“Onkel Lars won’t be very popular by the end of this day.” Ellie turned to Ingeborg, seated on the bench beside her. A couple of creative carpenters had fashioned a few benches out of one by tens nailed onto spools of firewood that had been waiting to be split.
“It is all in good fun.” Ingeborg held Ellie’s baby, little Haakan, on her lap while two-year-old Goodie played with her doll beside them. Carl, Sophie’s Linnie, and Inga were looking for bugs and worms in the grass at their feet.
“I don’t know. I see some glowering from the west team.” She nodded to the team across the field from where they sat.
“Lars hasn’t been real popular for the east side either.” Ordinarily Haakan would be one of the umpires, usually at first base. Ingeborg knew that Lars didn’t mind being behind the plate. Another batter stepped up to the plate, one of the more newly arrived men in town. She couldn’t remember his name, but his wife and two children were sitting on benches like theirs over on that side. The batter swung and popped a fly to the shortstop. The “out” rang loud and clear.
“Let’s get this over with so we can go eat,” Jonathan called to his team out in the field.
Gus Baard swung and missed.
“Strike one.” Then a second strike, this one popping backward and not caught.
With a teammate on second base, they could tie the game with a solid hit in this ninth inning with two outs. One run needed to tie, a home run to put the west team ahead.
On the next pitch Gus hit a grounder that bounced by the shortstop. Gus ran to first, sliding in to be safe. They now had runners on both third and first.
The crowd sat back down as Thorliff stepped up to bat.
“Hit it, Pa!” Both Inga and Carl had turned their attention to the game, since they weren’t finding many bugs.
A titter swept through both sides of the field and brought grins to the players.
Thorliff swung once and connected on the second pitch with a wicked bounce to left field. The score was tied up, and Johnny Solberg took the bat.
“Just get on base,” Ellie muttered, for Andrew was on deck to bat.
Johnny hit a foul, stared down three balls, and then got so excited that he swung at a bad one. The whole east side groaned.
“Take it easy,” Jonathan called. “Breathe.”
The fifteen-year-old did just that, watched the next ball go by for a walk. The bases were loaded again.
All those rooting for the east side leaped to their feet cheering for him as Andrew, swinging his bat, walked to the batter’s box. He swung again.
“Hit it, Pa. Hit it hard!” Carl jumped up and down, Inga and Goodie yelling right along with him. Ingeborg and Ellie were both on their feet. When little Haakan started to cry, Ingeborg patted his back, shushing him but keeping her attention on the batter.
“Strike one!” The west side clapped and cheered.
“Foul ball” canceled out the second pitch.
“Ball one.”
“Hit it! Hit it!” The children started the chant, and others picked it up. When Andrew connected with a solid thunk, everyone watched the ball make a high arc. Andrew ran to first. Third base tore for home, and the ball dropped straight down toward Dr. Deming’s glove. He reached for it and the ball hit him right between the eyes. Only the children screamed and laughed when Andrew crossed the plate. Everyone else had eyes only for the figure flat on his back in the outfield.
Astrid dashed across the field to drop to her knees beside him. The rest of the team gathered around. When Dr. Deming groaned, they all cheered.
“You’re going to have a goose egg the size of a melon,” Astrid said as she checked him over.
The man nodded, then flinched. “Sorry I dropped the ball.”
“You didn’t. The ball dropped you.” Astrid checked his eyes. “Are you ready to sit up?”
“I think so. This is mortifying.”
Two of the men reached down to help him up, and everyone started clapping as he wobbled to his feet. They half carried him over to the benches to sit down.
Lars raised his hands and someone whistled for quiet. “I declare Dr. Deming the hero of our game. He played so hard he stopped the ball with his head.” More whistles and cheers. “And the winners of this game will have the honor of being first in the line to eat. Let’s give all these players a hand and thank them for playing such a fine game. According to the ladies, our bar-bee-cued beef is ready, and Reverend Solberg will lead us in grace in fifteen minutes. After that the lines form to the east of the tables.” He dropped his hands and folks cheered again.
A bit later, Reverend Solberg pushed through the crowd and handed Astrid an ice pack, fighting to get his breath. “I’m getting too old for running like that.”
Ice pack held to his forehead, Dr. Deming looked to John Solberg. “You say you are too old to run. Right now I feel ancient. Let a ball get by me like that. Can I blame it on the sun in my eyes?”
“Why not? It could happen to anyone.”
“But I played on a really good team in St. Louis ever since school. Disgusting.”
“Still, accidents happen. Can I bring you a plate?”
“No, thank you. I can walk fine.” But when he stood up, he sat right back down. “Changed my mind. Thanks for the offer.”
Astrid and Daniel stood off to the side, surveying the celebration. Blankets were spread on the grass everywhere, some people had brought their chairs, and other folks sat on all the benches and blocks of wood. Children chased each other, a dog barked, and a baby started crying.
“This is the biggest gathering we’ve ever had.” Astrid nodded at someone who called her name, but she broke into a smile when a boy on a flat platform with wheels shouted, “Hey, there’s my doc.” Benny Valders started to propel his vehicle toward her, but one of the kids grabbed the rope on it and pulled him over to see Astrid. Benny had lost his legs in an accident in Chicago, and since no one knew who his parents were, Astrid had asked Gerald and Rebecca Valders if they might take him in. They had journeyed to the hospital in Chicago to pick him up, and so he came home to Blessing.
“Where’ve you been lately?” Astrid said as she took his hand.
“I went to stay out on the farm with my family.” The pride in his eyes made her blink.
“Marvelous! You had a good time on the farm?”
“I got to ride a horse. Onkel Knute strapped me in the saddle, and I rode all by myself.”
“Really?” Astrid smiled up at Daniel. “Can you believe that?”
“I believe anything can happen in Blessing. I’ve seen too many miracles to doubt it.”
Benny said, “They have a big rooster, and he don’t like me.”
Gerald ambled over to join the conversation. “Show them your badge of courage.”
Benny held up his arm. “But I swatted him a good one.”
Someone called his name, and he grinned at Astrid again. “I gotta go. Hey, you want to go fishing tomorrow? Me and Pa are going to bring home the supper.” He waved, flopped back on his stomach, and using his arms, propelled himself toward the gathering of children. One of them ran over to grab his rope and help him.
Astrid said, “They all do that so naturally.”
“I know,” Daniel said. “Just like they learn sign language. I guess it’s not hard when you’re a child. I was so amazed when you told me that when the students from the deaf school first attended the regular school, all the children started learning sign language. And that has continued.”
“Tante Astrid, d’you know where Ma is?” Inga tugged at her skirts.
“Most likely at the hospital.”
“I don’t feel so good.” Inga promptly puked up her supper, some on Daniel’s shoe. “Euw. Sorry.”
“Guess we better take you home.”
“Can I just sit by you for a while? I feel better now.”
Astrid checked her forehead for heat. It was damp from perspiration after playing with all the younger children, but not from a fever. “Why not.” She took Inga’s hand, thanked Daniel for cleaning up the mess, and strolled over to a free blanket in the shade of a cottonwood tree. Many people had already left to go home to do their chores, so there were more places to sit now. They had just sat down when Ingeborg brought a plate with cookies and small squares of several cakes to join them.
Ingeborg smiled at Inga. “Mind if I sit with you? Thorliff took Haakan home but he insisted I should stay.”
Inga patted the blanket on either side of her. She looked to her grandmother. “I puked on Onkel Daniel’s shoe.” She laid her head in Ingeborg’s lap. “I don’t think I want a cookie right now.”
Ingeborg stroked the little girl’s hair back from her face. “We could go back to your house and—”
“Can’t we stay here? I feel better now.”
Before long all the blanket space was taken as first Ellie and little Haakan, then Sophie, carrying ten-month-old Marie, sat down. Kaaren came and sat on the edge, making room for Grace and Mrs. Jeffers, who waved away the offer of a chair.
Mrs. Jeffers, who tended to get gossip wrong frequently, said, “Ingeborg, I heard you caught those other two robbers single-handed because they kidnapped Astrid, and you were so angry. That was heroic!”
Kaaren gasped. “Wherever did you hear that? It’s not true, any of it.”
“But Juney over across the river said it’s true.”
Ingeborg wagged her head. “It was Elizabeth and Astrid. Their cleverness is what caught the fellows. Elizabeth managed to give one of them a big dose of morphine. While he was still a little scattered, he told the sheriff where they were hiding, out at the Hefner place. I led the sheriff and his men out there, and he arrested them.”
“But Astrid—”
“Two of them used Astrid as a shield in order to get out of the hospital, but they turned her loose as soon as they were out in the country. They were actually quite gentlemanly. You see? You should never believe what old Juney says.” Ingeborg looked down at her lap to see Inga sound asleep.
“And Haakan is all right?” Amelia asked softly while the others went on to other subjects.
“Just worn out, but he so enjoyed himself today. He lasted a lot longer than I thought he would.” Ingeborg caught back a yawn. “It’s been a big day.”
“Been a big couple of weeks, if you ask me.” She swatted at a mosquito. “We need a breeze to keep them away.”
The sound of a guitar caught their attention. Sure enough, the musicians were gathering over by the school, where the dirt was packed hard enough to make dancing easier. They watched as several men eased the school piano down the ramp.
“You know something that amazes me about this town?” Amelia had taken a fan from her reticule and used it more as a pointer than for its proper use. “See over there. No one asked for help, but people always step in to do whatever needs to be done. Not just the folks who’ve been here since the beginning either. Look around.” Folks of all ages, sexes, and backgrounds were pitching in to clean up, put things away, move the tables over closer to the school, and set them up again. Knots of people stood or sat around, visiting like those on this blanket.
“I thought for a while that there might be hard words at the ball game, but thanks to Dr. Deming and his forehead, that blew on by too. I think that’s why the robbery was such a shock. Life has been hard for so many here that we all treasure the peace we find now.”
“Oh, look.” Sophie pointed toward the west. As the sun slid down, the few clouds pinked and then burst into a riot of colors, every shade of red, orange, and yellow and fading into purples. The deepening hush turned to an “Aah” when the last rim of gold disappeared. Someone started to clap, and soon everyone was clapping, turning to smile at one another.
Jonathan Gould on the piano and Joshua Landsverk with his guitar started a familiar tune, and without prompting, the song began. “‘Blest be the tie that binds . . .’”
In English, German, Norwegian, and Russian, the song rose on the evening breeze.
Another hush and Reverend Solberg raised his hands and his voice. “Let’s say this together: ‘The Lord bless thee, and keep thee.’”
“‘The Lord make His face to shine upon thee.’” Ingeborg took Kaaren’s hand, and Karen took Amelia’s as she reached out for Sophie’s. “‘The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.’” They all squeezed hands on the amen.
After a gentle silence, the music picked up again, this time singing out an invitation to come dance.
“That was indeed a God visit,” Ingeborg said to her family. “Thank you all.”
While couples began moving toward the dance area, Ingeborg smiled over her shoulder to see who was leaning up against her. “Why, Sophie, what a good idea. A perfect back rest.” She raised her eyes to the horizon’s glory that was slowly fading into gentle pinks and purples.
“You know something, Tante Ingeborg?” Sophie turned her face slightly. “I think everyone is going to remember this day. Years from now people will say, ‘You remember that Fourth of July party we had here in 1905? Never seen another one like it.’”
“I think you are right.” Lord, it sure would be dandy if this is the way the rest of the year goes. She smoothed Inga’s hair again, then felt the child’s face. Sure enough, she was running a fever.
They all started at the sound of a shot in the distance, rapidly followed by another and another.
“Don’t worry, folks,” a man called. “That’s only firecrackers.”