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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

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BOOK: A Land to Call Home
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“My mor always said the Bible tells us to ‘let the day’s own troubles be sufficient for the day’ Worrying never does us any good. She had a habit of adding to her favorite verses. ‘What if’ is a useless pastime if I ever saw one.” She studied the downcast face. “Do you really want to get more schooling?”

Penny nodded.

Kaaren shifted on the quilt and stretched her back. Getting up was going to take three men and a team of horses. “Mange takk.” She took the plate handed to her and rested it on her shelf. At Penny’s grin, she smiled back. “Good for something it is, but you can be sure I won’t miss it.”

“You think there is a way I could go on to school?”

Kaaren nodded, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “Just let me talk to Ingeborg. We might be able to work something out.”

Penny rose to her feet, eyes sparkling like sun-kissed wavelets. “Thank you, oh, thank you.”

The
young pup nephew of mine, if he were here, I would . . . I would . . .
Nothing punishing enough came to mind. If he didn’t watch out, he might let this beautiful young woman get away from him. And it would serve him right.

She tried to stretch out another twinge in her back. Laying a hand on her belly, she thought, This
baby sure has been quiet today
.

After dinner she settled the little ones about her for naps, and letting her eyelids drift halfway closed, she listened to the men laughing and joking as they hoisted sod shoulder high. Two men climbed up in the wagon bed to position the latest load of sod bricks. They switched around again so the taller men were unloading the wagons and hefting up the new layers of sod as the walls grew higher. They’d already laid the thick boards over the door and window spaces and had stretched another layer of sod over those.

Whitewash,
she thought.
If I
whitewash
the walls the children will feel brighter. It will be like having another window.
How she wished for a wall of windows to let the out-of-doors come in, but with a soddy, that wasn’t to be. She shifted, discomfort making her squirm. A cramp started at her back and worked its way to the front.

A child sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around for her mother, who sat with the other women on quilts nearby, talking and laughing over the chorus of clicking knitting needles. The little girl smiled up at Kaaren’s gentle voice and lay back down, dropping again into sleep before the sigh ended.

“You better get that fiddle tuned up, Baard, we’re that close to done.” She heard the male voice as if from a great distance.

“Ain’t we putting up the rafters first?” someone asked.

“Ja, that been our intent.”

Laughter out at the bare plot where the sod had formerly lain caught her attention. “That’s it!” The cry echoed from the men to the boys, who broke into cheers.

“You keep splittin’ them shingles. We got a lot of roof to cover.”

Groans rose from the young splitters.

The men gathered around the soddy with its seven-foot walls. Agnes rose from her knitting to stoke up the fire and moved the coffeepots into a hotter spot. Kaaren stifled a whimper.

Ready to lift the center beam into place, the men formed two teams, each taking a side set to raise. When the beam thudded home, the teams slammed the rafters and sheeting into place, and like weeds sprouting when the sun warms the rain-drenched earth, the hip roof took shape.

“Come on, Far!” Young Swen Baard yelled from his shingle-splitting post.

“Aw, Baard, your side goes any slower, and we won’t be outta here till tomorrow morning.”

The women added their cheers as the pounding increased in speed.

Lars limped over to his wife and extended a hand. “Come, you will be the first to walk through the door and look up through the rafters. Should have the roof on by the end of the week if those young sprouts keep going like they are.”

“Mange takk.” Kaaren let him pull her to her feet and wrap an arm around her back when she staggered. She clenched her teeth and forced a smile for his benefit.

“Are you all right?” Concern made him stop and turn to look at her more closely.

She nodded. “Ja, just show me the new school building, then I think we better not stay for the dancing and supper.”

“Kaaren!”

She shook her head. “No, I want to see my school from the inside.”

He led her around the wood scraps and in through the doorway. The workers paused, and a hush fell.

“Do you like it?”

Kaaren stood in the middle of the room and looked up at the blue sky now fading toward sunset. She stamped the dirt beneath her feet and crossed to lay a hand on the rough surface of the wall, pulling loose a green stalk and tossing it over the beams. “This is the most beautiful school anywhere.” Her voice rang for everyone to hear.

Cheers erupted from all around. Joseph Baard nailed the last rafter in place.

Kaaren sagged against her husband. “I think you better get me home now.”

“Are you sick?”

“Not really, but your son or daughter seems a mite impatient to enter this world.”

“Oh, good Lord above.” Lars dropped her hand and tore out the door. “Harness the wagon . . . ah . . . load up the horses.” He shook his head and spun around. “Kaaren, where are you?”

Her laughing voice came from the soddy. “Right where you left me.”

Lars darted back in the school building. “We’re having a baby.” He started back out, turned, and hooked an arm around her middle.
“Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Haakan drove the quilt-padded wagon up to the door. One look at Lars’ face and the man on the wagon seat shook his head. “Think I better drive.”

S
he is early, so early
. Ingeborg kept her fears from her face.

Karen groaned against another spasm.

“Easy now. We have a long time ahead of us.” Ingeborg knelt in the bed of the wagon beside her sister-in-law, who after all they’d been through together was closer than a sister. They were more like pieces of the same heart. “Would you feel more comfortable sitting up?”

“I think so.” Kaaren rotated her shoulders and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, she used her elbows to raise up while Ingeborg stuffed two folded quilts behind her.

“If this jolting didn’t bring on the pains, nothing else could.”

“Sister, this is so early.” Kaaren looked over the mountain of her belly to the wagon following close behind them. Thorliff sat straight on the wagon seat, the lines held gently but firmly in his hands as he’d been taught. She waved at him and he nodded, shooting Baptiste beside him a grin of pure pride.

“Are you doing all right?” Lars leaned back from the seat above. “You want I should prop you up?”

“That would be good.” Kaaren clenched her teeth, feeling the cramping starting at her spine and encircling her belly.

“Easy now. Just breathe deep and let it all out. My mor used to say that babies come when they are ready, whether the mother is or not.”

Sighing, Kaaren blinked her eyes and felt her body return to whatever was normal for now. Dust tickled her nose and made her sneeze.

Ingeborg drew a square of white cloth from her apron pocket and offered it with a loving smile. She helped Kaaren sit up for Lars to
get behind her, his long legs stretched out to her sides. Folding one of the quilts loaned by a neighbor, she tucked it between the wagon side and Lars’ back.

Kaaren leaned back against her husband’s chest and sighed again. The rocking of the wagon now felt comfortable, like a cushioned chair. He rubbed her shoulders, kneading the taut muscles to some pliancy.

“You know, the cows, they head off to a quiet place all by themselves and return with a bouncing calf.” His words tickled the hair around her ears.

“Ja, and the cat. She, too, goes off and hides. Is that what you want me to do?” She looked up to see his smile bathe her in love. He shook his head.

“No, just helping you think of something else.”

“Ja, well . . .” She clenched her teeth again, digging her fingers into the muscles of his leg. “This baby of ours ain’t thinking anything else, let me tell you.” Her words forced her to breathe in small pants. Her eyes widened. “Ah, that helps.”

“What? My leg that might never work right again?” He rubbed just above the knee. “Glad it was my good one.”

She slapped his hand playfully away. “You want we should change places?”

“Heaven forbid!” The shock in his tone made both women laugh.

“My mor said scrubbing floors on your hands and knees was good for birthing babies.”

“She didn’t have packed dirt floors neither.” Ingeborg stood to ask Haakan a question. Clenching the board seat for balance, she raised her face to talk. When he turned his head, she caught the look, of what? Concern, worry, or was it fear? His eyes darkened under his hat brim, and lines bracketed his mouth. She laid a hand on his arm. “She is all right. This is the way of babies coming into the world. You haven’t been near birthing before?”

He shook his head. “I never knew the hurting was like this. Mor went to the bedroom; we went to the barn, and a while later, she had a sleeping baby in her arms. We would tiptoe in, and she would smile and say, ‘Look what the angels brought us.’ ”

“Ja, well, women been bringing babies into this world in pain and suffering ever since the fall. The Bible says it should be so.” She glanced down to check on her patient. “It is never easy, but the work is worth the pain. ’Twill get a lot worse before it gets better.” She kept her voice low, meant for his ears alone.

“God give her strength.” Haakan clucked the horses a bit faster but knew too much speed would make the wagon jolt even more.

Ingeborg returned to find Kaaren in the throes of another spasm, but this time Lars, in a most gentle voice, reminded her that small breaths helped and rubbed her shoulders and neck.

Please, dear Lord, get us home quickly. I think this baby is in a real hurry
.

When the wagon finally halted in front of the soddy, Ingeborg and Kaaren shared a look of relief. Haakan wrapped the reins around the brake handle and swung over the back of the seat.

“You want we should carry you in on the quilt?” he asked, tipping his hat back with one finger.

“Nei. I will walk.”

“Walk!” Lars shook his head. “Has this thing caused you to lose your mind? I will carry you.” He bent to hook an arm behind her legs when Kaaren thumped him on the shoulder.

“We don’t need your back broken, and I don’t need the quilt. Just help me down from the end of the wagon, and Ingeborg and I will begin the walking.”

“Begin the walking?” Haakan and Lars looked from the women with resolution written indelibly on their faces to each other, recognizing they wore the same astounded expression.

“But . . . but . . .

Ingeborg felt Kaaren tighten again. “Here, Lars, help your wife. Haakan, you get down to the ground and make sure we don’t drop her. Walking now will make the baby come more easily later.” Her look left no room for argument.

The men did as told and then followed Ingeborg’s instructions to go about the evening chores as if nothing were wrong.

Lars blustered, but at the wave of Kaaren’s hand, he glared once and led the horses off to the barn to be unharnessed. “You will call if you need me?”

“Ja, we will,” Ingeborg called over her shoulder as she and Kaaren paced the length of the soddy. The temperature dropped with the darkening sky, and still they walked. Ingeborg went inside and returned with Kaaren’s coat and they walked some more. Lars brought up the brimming milk buckets, and after a headshake from Ingeborg, he went about the business of straining and setting the pans for the cream to rise in the soddy they’d built that summer for a cooling room. A trough filled with cold water held the cream cans until there was enough for butter. Ingeborg turned much of the
whole milk into cheeses, but Kaaren churned the butter they sold to the store in St. Andrew and to the Bonanza farms across the Red River.

“You want we should go in?” Ingeborg asked, glancing up at the stars that now dotted the cobalt sky. Lighter blue still lined the western horizon.

“Ja, I guess.” Kaaren stumbled once and bent to cradle her belly. “They are coming closer together.” She stood and sucked in a deep breath. “Oh my.”

“What is it?”

“The water broke. I’m drenched.” She looked down at the front of her dress. “Uff da, such a mess.”

They found Lars sound asleep in the rocker, his head tipped back and gentle snores puffing his lips. A loaf of bread missing several slices and cheese still on the table said he’d fixed his own supper.

“I should have come in and heated something,” Ingeborg whispered.

“Or me.” Kaaren tried to smile around the pinched lines at the edges of her mouth.

“You been busy enough. You want he should go to stay with Haakan and the children?”

Kaaren shook her head. “Maybe that is the right way, but he will help me later. I could tell in the wagon, he . . .” She doubled over again, her gasp waking the sleeping man.

Lars leaped to his feet, the rocking chair banging back against the chest. “Are you all right? How can I help? Is the baby almost here?” His questions rifled the still air.

BOOK: A Land to Call Home
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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