I did no such thing!”
“Are you calling me a liar? My daughter a liar?” Strand leveled the gun at Hjelmer’s chest.
“No, sir, not exactly.” Hjelmer took a step forward.
“Go back in the barn.” Haakan spoke the words softly, for Hjelmer’s ears alone.
“But—”
“Go back in the barn, easy like, one backward step at a time.” He stepped forward, and now the gun was aimed at him. “Mr. Strand, put the gun away. I’m sure we can sit down and talk about this without a gun.”
Ingeborg clasped her hands in front of her.
Haakan knew she was praying. He kept his gaze locked on that of the intruder. “Please, as a friend and neighbor, I ask you to come in and sit at our table. You have the honor of being our first guest since we got married. I’m sure Ingeborg has the coffee ready, or it soon will be.” All the while he kept his voice even and soothing, same as when he was calming a fractious animal.
Right on cue, Ingeborg chimed in. “Of course. You’re welcome to stay for breakfast, too, if you’d like.”
Haakan dared not look behind him to see if Hjelmer had obeyed or not. Walking forward, he took hold of the horse’s reins, right below the bit. He could see Strand was beginning to relax. The gun barrel now pointed down, and the man’s finger no longer clutched the trigger. “How about if we tie your horses up over by the barn? They might want a drink from the trough there, and I’m sure a feed of oats would be welcome. We’ll be mighty happy to have the new crop harvested. How are things looking over where you are staying?”
Strand laid his rifle down and climbed out of the wagon. “You won’t be pulling any funny business now, will you?”
Haakan could smell liquor on the man’s breath now that he was up closer. Had it taken some artificial courage to get over here? What in the world had happened to cause all this? As far as he knew, Hjelmer was truthful. The look of stark shock and horror on his face told them that, if nothing else. There’d been no ducking with a shamed face.
If the girl hadn’t been a tramp before she got here, the dream of Hjelmer must have done it to her. What a pity.
Haakan led the team over to the barn and tied them up. He asked Strand again about his family, anything to get the man talking about something else. “You found a homestead yet?”
“No! That’s another thing! I was all set to bid on the Polinski place, and you bought it right out from under me. I went over there the other day, and Mrs. Polinski said she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of that worthless husband of hers since the day he went into Grand Forks with you.”
Haakan groaned. In all the wedding excitement, he hadn’t gotten over there yet. But he’d expected the Polinskis to be gone by now. Abel had said they’d move immediately. Now what would he do?
“That low-down polecat. You don’t suppose he took off and left them, do you?”
Strand obviously enjoyed being the bearer of bad tidings. He perked right up, a grin coming to the corner of his mouth. He spat a plug of tobacco juice at the bottom of the rose bushes and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Couldn’t rightly say, but it sure looked that way to me.”
Ingeborg shot a look at Haakan that said she was simmering. When she slammed a plate of pancakes in front of the man, he was lucky he didn’t wear them or the coffee that hovered near his back while Ingeborg poured the cup full.
“Now, I didn’t plan to come for breakfast.” He looked up at Ingeborg. “But this sure looks mighty good.”
“Now, Mr. Strand—” Haakan began.
“Call me Oscar.” Strand wiped up the sour cream and jelly with the last bite of pancake. “And thank you, Mrs. Bjorklund. Now, weren’t that easy? You got married and you didn’t even have to change your name.” The skin tightened around his eyes. “Not like my girl. She’ll be changing her name right soon, if’n I have anything to say about it.”
“Don’t you think you should ask Hjelmer for his side of the story?”
“Story be . . .” He followed with a string of cuss words and slapped his hands flat on the table, making the dishes jump.
Andrew whimpered from the bed where he’d still been sleeping. Ingeborg went to get him, glad Thorliff was out in the barn.
“Now, Mr. Strand, we don’t allow for that kind of talking in our home, so if you can’t calm down, we better step outside away from innocent ears.”
“Sorry.” Strand sent the apology Ingeborg’s way. “Didn’t mean to wake the little one, there.”
Haakan rested his elbows on the table and tented his fingers to tap his chin. “Here is what I propose. Let me talk with Hjelmer, and then we’ll come over later and talk with you and Mary Ruth.”
“My girl, she been raised right. We don’t do with no lying in our house neither.”
“I’m sure you don’t. But a few days one way or the other won’t make a difference in the long run.”
“Just so he does right by her. I want grandsons, but not on the wrong side of the blanket. And my Mary Ruth is a good girl.”
Who’s he trying to convince, me or himself? Haakan nodded but remembered the girl bringing afternoon cold water and cookies clear from where they were staying to Hjelmer out in the fields of the Bjorklund homestead. Did the father know about those little adventures, or was it strictly between mother and daughter? Sniffing out a polecat had never been difficult for Haakan.
The man rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I give that young pup three days to make this right, or I’m coming back with the gun, and this time no fancy talk is going to help a’tall.” He got to his feet. “Thankee for the meal, and my missus hopes you’ll come calling, soon like.” He clapped his hat on his head as he strode out the door.
“Like about when we have a thunderstorm in January!” Ingeborg sank onto a chair. “He means it, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, I thought we were getting through to him, but that conniving old sawhorse. He ate our food as if he would be a good neighbor, but he had no intention of changing his mind. Then to invite us to come calling! The nerve of the man!” Haakan leaned back in his chair and swiped both hands over his head, smoothing his hair for a few seconds. A grin started about midmouth and worked its way to the edges, then added strength with a chuckle and broke forth in full laughter like a spring freshet briefly dammed up by rubble.
“Haakan Bjorklund, what is so funny?”
Andrew looked up at his mother, then over at Haakan. When Ingeborg smiled down at him, he grinned and waved his pudgy fist in the air. When Haakan laughed again, Andrew let forth with the belly laugh of all belly laughs.
“What’s so funny?” Hjelmer and Thorliff walked in the door.
“M-Mr. Strand.” Haakan wiped his eyes.
“He wants to shoot me, and you think that’s funny?” Hjelmer stared from one to the other.
“He’d rather you married his d-daughter.” Ingeborg waved Andrew’s fist at them.
“That’s funny?”
“No, not funny at all, but you should have seen him.”
“I did. I don’t like looking down the end of a loaded shotgun.”
Haakan planted all four chair legs back on the dirt floor and swiped at his hair again. “Oh, my. Well, son, if you want my opinion, I think the best thing is for you to disappear for a time. Since you swear you aren’t the father to that girl’s baby, and I’ve seen how she’s after you, I have a hunch there is no baby.”
“She’d lie?”
“Appears so. How quick do you think you can be ready to leave?”
“Where would I go?”
“My guess is Fargo. Go work on the railroad like your brothers did. The pay is good, and they are always looking for strong backs. With your blacksmithing skills, you’d be a real asset.”
“But . . . but what about Penny?”
“You’d have to leave her here. Her folks wouldn’t hold too well with you and her running off. Besides, you don’t want to start married life on the run. In a couple of months, you’ll get a letter from us saying the baby never showed, and Mary Ruth is still slim and trim as ever.”
“And then you can come home.” Ingeborg set Andrew in his seat and went to the stove to begin frying pancakes again.
“But . . . but what if . . . ?”
“What if she really is in the family way?”
Hjelmer nodded.
“Do you swear that you are not the father?”
Hjelmer nodded again. “On a stack of Bibles, if I must.”
“Then all will turn out all right in the end. You eat yourself a good breakfast. Got any cash?”
“Some. Lessen twenty dollars, I think.”
“Good, that’s enough to hold you till you get paid.” Haakan got to his feet. “And if Strand comes back here, well, we’ll deal with that when it comes. But I don’t think he will. Let us know in a couple of weeks where you are, so before then we can honestly say we don’t know. That should shorten some of that old . . .”
“Haakan.”
“I won’t say it.” He raised his hands. “But it sure is hard not to think it.”
Within the hour, Haakan and Ingeborg, with Thorliff and Andrew in front of them, stood watching Hjelmer stride off across the prairie, heading south.
“I wonder when we will see him again?” Ingeborg said with a catch in her throat.
“Only God knows, but He will watch over him.” Haakan swung Andrew up to his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go fishing.”
“Fishing!” Thorliff jumped up and down. “I’ll get the worms.” He headed for the manure pile on the other side of the barn.
“Worms!” Andrew squirmed to get down. “Me, worms.”
“You’re a worm all right.” Ingeborg set him on the ground. “Thorliff, he’s coming with you.” She started into the house and turned back. “And don’t let him eat the worms.”
“I won’t.”
They returned late that afternoon with enough fish for them, for Kaaren and Lars, and some left for smoking. Lars took over the scaling job until the others finished chores, and then they all joined in. Ingeborg had scales clear to her elbows. Haakan even picked a few from her hair. At supper that night, they all ate fried fish till they complained of stomachs popping.
“Where do you suppose Hjelmer is by now?” Kaaren asked.
“I hope he’s far away, either by boat or train. I don’t trust that Strand fellow any farther than I can throw him.” Lars locked his hands behind his head.
“Or his wife, either,” Haakan added.
“Haakan!” Ingeborg shook her head with a glance to the boys.
“Where would you throw him?” Thorliff looked up from drawing on one of the pieces of brown wrapping paper.
“See?” Ingeborg’s look said more than that.
“Nowhere.” Haakan tousled the boy’s hair. “It’s just a figure of speech.”
“Me and Baptiste, along with Swen and Knute, we threw each other into the haystacks. That was fun. But no one’s big enough to throw Mrs. Strand.”
“You could build a . . .”
He winked at her but saved the rest of his comment for later. After the boys were sleeping, he leaned close to the rocking chair where she sat knitting a thumb on a mitten that looked to be about Andrew’s size. “Build a catapult and throw her into the next state. The next state after Minnesota.”
Ingeborg kept her voice low in case Thorliff really wasn’t asleep yet. “Shush. You have to watch what you say around those boys of mine. They repeat everything, and you know Thorliff believes every word you say.”
“You are right. But he needs to learn to tease and be teased, too. Otherwise how will he get along in school?”
“He’ll be fine.” She put her knitting away and picked up her Bible. “What should we read tonight?”
Haakan listened as Ingeborg read of Christ’s miracles. As far as he was concerned, being here and married to this woman who seemed to glow in the lamplight was miracle aplenty. And later, when she lay tucked snugly against his side, he thanked God for the miracle of their love, and that he no longer had to sleep in the barn.
Hjelmer strode south, a pack containing clothes and bread and cheese over his shoulder, leaving all his tools but the carving knife behind. With each step, his rage at Mary Ruth deepened and spread. Here he was running again and through no fault of his own. Just like it had been in New York, where he was falsely accused of cheating and had to run for his life. Only this time the pursuer was a furious father. One not afraid to use a shotgun.
Hjelmer called Strand every name he could think of and a few he made up. When he was done with him, he started on Mary Ruth. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the hurt in Penny’s gentle gaze. Who would tell her? Would she believe the gossip that surely would arise? Would she wait for him, or marry another?
What if Mary Ruth really was pregnant? Who was the father? Not him, that was for certain.
Without conscious thought, he veered to the west and made a beeline for the Baard homestead.
“Mrs. Baard, is Penny home? I need to talk with her.”
“Hjelmer, what is that pack? Where are you going?” Agnes dusted her hands and wiped them on her apron.
“I’ll tell you later, but it is really important that I speak with her.” He clutched his hat in his hands. Please let her be near, I must talk with her. If someone had told Hjelmer he was praying, he would have laughed them off, but he repeated the phrase while Agnes wrinkled her brow to think.
“I know, she’s out with the boys cleaning the springhouse. Go on out.” She followed him to the door. “Everything is all right at home, isn’t it?”
“I hope so.” Hjelmer left her and headed for the room dug into the ground. He could hear someone laughing. As he got near, Swen bolted from a hole in the ground that was covered by a low roof of sod.
“I’ll get you!” Penny shot after him, skirts flying in the race to catch her cousin. From the look on her face, he must have been tormenting her again. “You ever throw a mouse at me again, and I’ll—” She stopped as if she’d slammed into a wall. “Oh.” Her hands went to her hair and then covered her face. “I’m a mess.”
Hjelmer reached out with a long arm and snagged the running boy. “Here, now you can do to him whatever you want.” He smiled at her distress. “And you are not a mess.”
He loved the way her cheeks flared red, the way she tried to smooth her hair and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at her young cousin flailing in Hjelmer’s grip. I could lose her! The thought made him drop the boy.
“Please, can I talk with you for a few minutes?”
“Of course.” She studied him from serious eyes. “You are going somewhere?”
“Ja, I must.” He took her by the arm and together they walked out toward the prairie.
“She did what?” Penny spun around and faced him when he finished telling her the story. “That . . . that witch! Mary Ruth, I could scratch her eyes out. To think she would accuse you of—” She stopped and looked up at him. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s not true, is it? I mean, I could understand if—”
Hjelmer clutched her shoulders with both hands. “No, I never even told her I liked her, not ever. She wanted me to, but I never did. Oh, please, Penny, you got to believe me.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Hjelmer, I believe you. I don’t want you to leave.”
“Haakan said I should go work on the railroad for a while. I will do that, and when I come back, I will have money to start a blacksmith shop. Ingeborg said she will deed me five acres by the school and . . . and . . .” He wrapped both arms around her slender body and buried his face in her soft neck. “Penny, when I come back, will you marry me?”
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!”
When he kissed her, she melted into his arms. A few minutes later, they pulled apart and stood breathing hard. “I love you, Penelope Sjornson, and I always will. You remember that, you hear?”
“I will. I love you too much to forget.”
“Then I best be going.” He touched the tip of her nose with the tip of his finger. “Tell your aunt and uncle what has happened. Tell them good-bye for me.”
“For now. The good-bye is only for now.”
He nodded and turned to leave before the moisture in his eyes brimmed over. Why was he feeling so desolate? He’d only be gone for a short couple of months after all. Wouldn’t he?
The next afternoon when Paws announced a visitor, Metiz could be heard talking to the dog. Before Ingeborg could close the lids on the stove and greet her, the old woman appeared in the door.
“Berries me bring.” She held out one of her hand-woven baskets full of plump, purple-blue June berries.
“Metiz, how good to see you, and what a wonderful present. Where did you find them ripe already?” Ingeborg popped one of the juicy berries in her mouth and closed her eyes, the better to savor the sweetness.
“Plenty more.”
“Good, perhaps I can send the boys out to pick tomorrow, if you will show them where. These will make delicious jam.”
“Good pemmican.”
“I should dry some, shouldn’t I?” Ingeborg nodded. “Perhaps Kaaren and I can go, too.”
Visiting with Metiz was growing easier all the time, with them both learning new words of the other’s language and understanding the signs better too.
“Strand come?”
“You heard?”
“He loud voice. Mean.”
Ingeborg poured them each a cup of coffee and set the leftover cornbread on the table. “Ja, that he is.”
“He’ll be able to put his boot on soon, I think. Thanks to you, that man can walk.”
“Thank Great Spirit.” She finished her piece of cornbread and drained her coffee. “Takk.”
“You are welcome.” Ingeborg got to her feet. “Come, I have something for you out in the root cellar.” A few minutes later, she shaded her eyes as she watched Metiz trot back toward the river, the basket now containing six eggs and a hunk of cheese. She would have given her friend more, but Metiz turned it down. Thank you, Lord, for Metiz. Guess we could call her our prairie angel, she’s helped us so much. Ingeborg sighed. She’d better get going in the garden before the weeds took over.
Hot July ran into a hotter August, and the uncut prairie grass stood tall as a man’s chest. Ingeborg spent much of her days weeding the garden, caring for her livestock, and keeping Andrew out of trouble. “I don’t remember Thorliff being such a problem,” she said one afternoon to Kaaren.
“You didn’t know him at two, but he wasn’t as busy as Andrew. Thorliff could sit and play with a couple of sticks and a pile of dirt by the hour. I would hear him telling the sticks what to do, as if they were humans. I think he started telling stories before he could really talk.”
“Ja, I’m not surprised.” Ingeborg studied the woman before her. “Why don’t you lie down and put your feet up for a time. Look how swollen your ankles are.”
“It’s this little one.” Kaaren stroked her burgeoning belly. “You’d think there were two of them fighting it out in there.”
“Are there twins in your family?”
“Ja, now that I think of it. Wouldn’t that be a miracle?”
“A miracle all right. And I can’t keep up to one little one.”
“Mor, get Andrew please. He’s eating the grasshopper.”
Ingeborg leaped to her feet. “Carl Andrew Bjorklund, put that down this instant.” She flew out the door. “Be glad yours are still safe inside.”
She dusted her son off and stuck her head back in the door. “Take a rest, there’s no law against it. I’ll cook supper for tonight.”
“Inside what?” Thorliff paced beside her.
“You told Tante Kaaren to be glad hers were still safe inside. Inside what?”
“Thorliff, sometimes grown-ups talk about things that are not for little boys to hear. Can you understand that?”
“Oh.” He thought for a moment, then asked, “Like when you and Haakan laugh in bed?”
Ingeborg rolled her eyes toward heaven. How could she ever keep ahead of this child? These children? And to think Haakan wanted more.
The next time family immigrated from Norway, it was going to be a girl. One who could help with the young children.
A couple of days later, Ingeborg settled Andrew down for a nap, determined she would finish the hides she had salted while she had some peace. Thorliff and Baptiste were out with the sheep, and the men were breaking sod to the west. She carefully set the bars in place across the doorway and headed for the barn. Deep in her task, she failed to keep track of the time.
Paws yipping with joy meant the boys were back with the sheep. She stepped from the barn and waved to the boys on her way to the house. Andrew rarely slept this long. Was he coming down with something?
“Mor, we’re hungry,” Thorliff called.
“Come get some bread and sugar after you corral the sheep.” She stopped for a moment to smell the white roses that twined now to the top of the door. Each blossom beckoned her attention, and she spent a few moments picking off the spent flowers. She left the rose hips on the pink one, planning to use them for her medicinals since they were the wild kind that grew to thumb size.
Silence from in the house. She bent to remove the bars and stepped inside. Blinking to adjust her eyes to the dimness, she crossed to the stove and lifted the lids to check the firebox. Out.
“Thorliff, could you bring in some wood?”
“Ja, we will.”
Ingeborg crossed the room and stopped by the bed. No little body mounded the covers. The bed was empty.