Eighteen

Lars and Janice stayed at Litchfield for a month. Because Lars decided to help with the harvesting at the farm, after a few days, he and Janice moved into the house with his parents. Gerda and Olina became friends with Janice. Often when the men were working at the farm, Janice spent the day at Gerda and Olina’s home, even helping them with handwork or cooking lunch for them while they finished a garment. In the evenings, Gerda, Olina, and August ate dinner at the farm. Everyone wanted to make the most of the time Lars and Janice were there.

One Friday night in September, all the family was gathered around the table enjoying another one of Mrs. Nilsson’s wonderful meals. Gerda noticed that Gustaf seemed preoccupied. She wondered what was bothering him, but she didn’t have long to worry.

“A few of the shingles on my house look as if they’re damaged.” Gustaf took another bite of the chicken and dumplings. Olina knew it was one of his favorite foods. He looked thoughtful while he chewed. “Since we don’t have any other fields ready for harvest right now, I think I’ll go over and fix the roof tomorrow.” He looked around the table at his brothers. “Do you want to help me?”

Lars put down his fork and frowned. “I would like to, but Janice promised her aunt and uncle that we would spend the day with them.”

Janice smiled at her husband. “It would be all right if you want to help your brother. I can go without you.”

“No,” Gustaf said. “You haven’t spent much of your time here with the Braxtons. It’s only right that you both go tomorrow.”

“I can help you.” August reached for another hot roll. “I haven’t had a day off, except Sunday, for a long time. We aren’t very busy right now.”

Gustaf smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll feel better about the girls spending the winter in the house if I know the roof is safe.”

The next morning, Gustaf and August arrived in time for breakfast. Gerda had told Olina that they would, so the young women had cooked extra bacon and biscuits. Gerda started the scrambled eggs while the men washed up for the meal.

Breakfast was fun, with light banter going around the room and keeping everyone laughing between bites. Olina looked at Gustaf. She liked having him sitting across the table from her. It was familiar and something she would like to continue for her whole life. Where had that thought come from? She sat stunned, wondering what it meant.

August pushed his chair back from the table. “We’d better get started if we want to finish today.”

“Okay, Brother.” Gustaf clapped him on the back before he went out the door toward the wagon.

Olina sat for a minute more, still stunned by the direction of her thoughts. Gerda quickly cleaned off the table. Olina jumped up and started washing the dishes while Gerda dried them and put them away.

“I’m going to the mercantile this morning.” Gerda hung the tea towel on a hook near the sink. “Do you want to go with me?”

“Not today,” Olina said. “Last week I bought a piece of wool to make myself a suit. I haven’t even had time to cut it out. I want to get it made before the weather gets any colder.”

“Do you want me to get anything for you while I’m there?”

Olina followed Gerda out of the kitchen. “Would you check and see if they have any cotton sateen? I want to make a new waist to go with the suit.”

Gerda stopped and put on her bonnet and shawl. “What color?”

“The wool is navy. Maybe a light blue, pink, or even white would go with it.”

Olina went into the sewing room and pulled the fabric from the shelf. She planned to make a skirt that wasn’t as full as she wore in the summer. She liked a little flare, but if it wasn’t too full, the skirt would be warmer. The wind was bad about blowing full skirts around, and the wind already had a bite to it. Olina wanted to make a fitted jacket with fitted sleeves. That style was also warmer than looser styles. If she had enough fabric, Olina was going to add a peplum to the bottom of the jacket. Maybe she would scallop it to give it more interest. She could even add scallops to the opening of the jacket, with a buttonhole in each scallop. The more she envisioned the new creation, the more excited she became. Spreading the fabric on the table, Olina went to work cutting out the suit.

❧

Gustaf and August quickly gathered the needed tools and wooden shingles from the wagon. While Gustaf carried them to the side of the house, August hefted the ladder on his broad shoulders.

It took several trips up and down the ladder before the men had moved all they needed to work with onto the roof. Soon they were pulling away rotted shingles and nailing new ones into place. While they worked, the brothers talked and laughed. They had always gotten along, and they worked well together.

It took them most of the morning to finish the back of the roof. Then they moved across to the front. Gustaf placed his tools and nails within easy reach, but they had used most of the shingles they brought up earlier.

“I need more shingles.” Gustaf stood and stretched his muscles. He wasn’t used to all this hammering and crawling on his knees. He rotated his right shoulder while holding it with his left hand. “How about you?”

“Sure.” August laid his hammer down and pulled a bandanna from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “I’ve used most of mine.”

“I’ll go down and get some more.” Gustaf started over the top of the roof, but one of the shingles he stepped on broke, and he lost his balance. Standing on a slope wasn’t easy, and he couldn’t regain his balance. He tried to clutch at anything that would stop him as he tumbled down the few feet to the edge of the roof, then he plunged through the air. A primitive cry forced its way from his throat before he hit the ground two stories below. Then everything went black.

❧

At first, the sound of the pounding had bothered Olina, but soon the rhythm was soothing. One of the men hit a nail, followed immediately by the other man’s pound. It didn’t take Olina long before she knew which pound was which. Although Gustaf hit the nails with power, because of his work at the blacksmith’s, August’s pounds were harder. Ba Boom. Ba Boom. The rhythm continued. It was a comforting sound, much like her mother’s heartbeat when she had held Olina close as a child. The sounds would stop as the men moved to another spot, only to resume again.

Olina tried to keep her thoughts from wandering to Gustaf. She didn’t want to make any mistakes as she cut out the suit. If she was careful, she could make the outfit the way she wanted and still have enough fabric left to make a matching reticule. She could line the purse with the fabric from the blouse she would make to go with the suit.

There was never a minute when Olina wasn’t aware that Gustaf was on the roof above her. She knew when the men moved to the area above the sewing room, even though a bedroom was between the roof and the room where she worked. Once again the pounding stopped. She imagined the men taking a break.

“Aaiiee!”

The primitive scream was followed by a dull thump right outside the sewing room. For a moment Olina was paralyzed. Then she rushed to the window and raised it. What she saw caused her to catch her breath. Gustaf lay motionless on the ground.

Olina quickly leaned out and looked toward the eaves. August leaned over, gazing at his brother with anguish covering his face.

“What happened?” Olina’s question sounded shrill even to her own ears.

August shook his head. “I don’t know for sure. He was going for more shingles. . .and then he was—” August couldn’t continue.

“Come down right now.” Olina turned and hurried toward the front door.

She ran around to the side of the house and crumpled beside the still unmoving body. She doubled over and sobs tore from deep within her.

When August came around the house, he knelt on the other side of his brother. Tears were making their way down his cheeks. “He’s not dead, Olina.”

Olina looked up.

“See. He’s breathing.” August pointed to Gustaf’s chest, which was moving with each breath.

“Should we move him into the house?” Olina looked toward the structure.

“That might not be a good idea.” August stood. “What if something is broken? We could injure him more. . . . I’m going for the doctor.”

Olina scrambled to her feet. “What can I do?”

“Stay with him.” August strode across the yard toward his horse, but he swerved to head to the wagon, then stopped and turned to look back at Olina and Gustaf. “Maybe you should cover him with something warm.”

Olina ran into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom. She jerked the quilt from her bed and grabbed her pillow. After hurrying down the stairs and around the house, she gently cradled Gustaf’s head in her arms while she pushed the pillow under it. Then she covered him with the quilt and pushed it in close to his body all around. It became soiled, but she didn’t care. Nothing was important except Gustaf.

As Olina gazed at his face, her heart felt as if it had burst open, and all the love that had been building for Gustaf poured forth. She loved him with her whole heart. Olina didn’t know when this had happened, but she really loved him. More than she had ever loved Lars. More than she had realized was even possible. That love hurt because Gustaf was injured.

“Father God,” Olina wailed. “Please help Gustaf.” She pulled the bottom of her skirt up and wiped the tears from her face, but they continued to pour from her eyes. “I love him, Father God. Please don’t take him away from me just when I’ve discovered that I love him.”

Olina reached and pushed his hair from his forehead. Then her hand continued around his cheek and came to rest on his strong neck. Olina could feel the blood pulsing through the vein there. Surely he wouldn’t die while his pulse was so strong.

“Please, God, I beg You. Let him not be badly hurt. I don’t care if he’ll never be mine. I love him enough to want the best for him. Let him be okay. I want to see him every day.” The last sentence ended on a sob.

The first thing Gustaf became aware of was the cold hard ground beneath him. He fought to open his eyes but was unable to keep from drifting back into the blackness.

The next time he fought his way up out of the dark, he noticed that he felt warmer. Something soft was under his head, something warm had settled over him, and someone was tucking it in around his body. It felt good. He tried to open his eyes, but he still couldn’t. Then he heard the voice.

Olina, sweet Olina, was praying. For him. She said that she loved him. He wanted to try to open his eyes again, but decided against it. He would wait to hear what else she had to say. When her hand touched his head, he almost flinched because it surprised him so much. As it continued down his face, he reveled in the feel of her soft flesh against his. He would remember the way it felt as long as he lived. When her hand rested on his neck, Gustaf knew she could feel his pulse. His heartbeat had quickened so much at her touch. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to look at her.

Olina was studying Gustaf’s face when his eyes fluttered open. She tried to pull back, but one of his arms snaked out from under the quilt and his hand grabbed hers. When she relaxed, his touch became gentle. She was unable to tear her gaze from his eyes. They seemed to hold her captive, and she read an answering love in them. Could it be that he loved her as she loved him?

Before long, August, Gerda, and the doctor hurried around the side of the house.

“I see that he has recovered consciousness.” The doctor’s voice boomed.

Startled, Olina turned and tried to get up, but Gustaf didn’t let her hand go, so she sank back onto the ground beside him.

The doctor set his black bag on the ground beside Gustaf and took out his stethoscope. He listened to Gustaf’s breathing through his chest and took his pulse.

“Do you have any pain, Son?” the fatherly man asked.

Gustaf looked toward the man. “Yes. I kind of hurt all over.”

“Is there any place that it is localized?” The doctor started probing his body, searching for broken bones.

“I don’t think so, Sir.” Gustaf moved first one arm and then the other. “Maybe I’m just sore. I know I had the breath knocked out of me.”

“He was knocked unconscious for several minutes,” Olina informed the doctor.

“Well, can you move everything?” The doctor watched as Gustaf moved his arms, his legs, and his head. “Does anything hurt worse when you move it?”

“Not that I can tell.” Gustaf tried to sit up, and the doctor gave him a hand.

“Are you dizzy?” The doctor looked at Gustaf’s pupils.

“No, Sir. Is it all right if I stand up?”

The doctor helped him to his feet. Then he looked at the ground where Gustaf had been lying. “If you were going to fall off a house, it’s a good thing you picked this place to land.”

Gustaf looked down, too.

“See? There’s enough grass to cushion your fall, and there are no rocks to harm you.” The doctor touched his shoulder. “Come inside, Son. I would like to do a thorough examination, to be on the safe side.”

Olina followed the men into the house. She was glad that nothing seemed to be seriously injured.