An Untamed Heart (15 page)

After the cousins enjoyed their griddle cakes with whipped cream, they all settled on the floor by Ingeborg’s chair. She opened her book to the story she’d started the second night after they’d arrived. It was a silly thing, just a light bit of folklore, but everyone seemed to love it. The young hero, little Butterball, outsmarted his huge dim-witted enemy, a troll. Intelligence again triumphed over brute force, and she thought once more of the way they had rescued their patient.

The children went to bed, as did Gunlaug, and Ingeborg stayed at Nils’s side. He finally drifted off into a restless sleep, or perhaps he was just dozing. A couple of hours later, Ingeborg was just getting ready to turn the watch over to Kari when Nils started to cough. The prolonged effort left him gasping. The sputum she wiped from his chin had bits of red in it again. Blood. Was it just from the coughing or something worse?

Several hours later Nils’s coughing wrenched Ingeborg from a sound sleep, so she descended the ladder to check on him. Hjelmer was sitting with him, so it wouldn’t be long until it was time to get up anyway.

Nils was panting from the effort, but in between puffs, he tried to smile. At least that’s what she thought it was.

“He slept good up until a few minutes ago. I changed the wet cloths, but they stay wet now.”

“Good. You go sleep for a while. The others will take care of the milking and chores. Thank you for taking your turn.” She laid the back of her hand against Nils’s sweaty forehead. Not bad, not bad at all. Had they finally beaten the fever? She smiled at their patient. “I know after coughing like that, it might not seem like it, but I believe you have turned the corner. For a while I was afraid you might not make it.”

“Me too.” The hoarse croak could be heard, at least.

“Can I get you some broth?” He shook his head. “Water?” At another shake she asked, “What would you like?”

“Coffee?”

“Sorry, the fireplace is not hot enough yet. But I will get it going. Although the water in the kettle by the fire might still be warm.” He nodded, so she retrieved a cup of warm water and held it for him to drink, being careful to keep it slow. When he signaled that he’d had enough, she asked, “Did that help soothe your throat?” Even his nodding was stronger. “Coughing like that rips your throat apart but sure helps your lungs.”

Her curiosity grew stronger every time she talked with him, or rather to him, like right now. Who was he and where was he from? He liked to read, she assumed. There were two books in his packsack: one looked like a college textbook and the other was by a man named Voltaire. Since she’d glanced through it, looking for information about the owner, she knew it was in French. So Nils was an educated man, or a young man getting an education. His hands did not appear to have done much physical labor.

“Takk.” His whisper made her look at his face.

“You are welcome.” She stood and went to throw more wood on the fire. Since Mari had banked it well, there were plenty of coals to start the new one. Last night she had almost decided to send Hjelmer down to Valdres for Mor, but now she changed her mind. As far as she could tell by probing the bone in his leg, it was not misaligned. It was hard to tell with all the swelling.
Please, God, make it so
. She had seen the doctor set a bone once but had not realized how much strength it took to get the bone in place. Good thing he had been unconscious. An even better thing that they all worked hard so they had strong muscles, and God had given them wisdom and all they needed.

What was Mor going to say about all this? Would she take
her daughter along on birthing calls now? Ingeborg felt her jaw tighten. Even the thought of that made her angry again.
I want to learn all I can. I want to learn all she can teach me. Why?
The whys beat in her head while she made the coffee.

When she woke a while ago, her first thought had been for Nils, as she had begun to refer to him. Had she sacrificed his health on the altar of her own stubbornness? Would going for Mor have made any difference? The relief that he was finally better lifted a heavy load off her mind that she’d not realized she was carrying. The feeling of lightness told the hidden tale.

Kari and Gunlaug came down from the loft, soon followed by the others. Except for Tor, and Hjelmer, who had just gone to bed.

“Is Tor up?” she asked Anders, who shook his head, disgust written clearly on his face.

“Did you tell him it was time?”

“I told him twice.” Anders plopped into a chair at the table.

Mari tied her apron in place. “I think Tor needs water in the face.”

“Really?” Ingeborg glanced over to see the others nodding. “And who should do it?”

All the hands went up. “Let me!”

“Let me!”

Oh, such eagerness!

Ingeborg smiled. “I see. I think it would be best if Gunlaug did it. He’ll probably get angry.”

“Not if we are all watching and laughing.”

Ingeborg thought a moment. This would be hard on his pride. Would the threat of it be enough? “Take water up there, and tell him that if he isn’t on his feet in thirty seconds, he gets the water. If he gets up first, no water.”

Jon made a face.

Ingeborg knew that Anders and Hjelmer had told Tor to leave the little boy alone several times. If she heard of it again, she would have to take Tor aside and give him the talking to he so richly deserved. Unless he straightened up, he would not be invited back next year. Shame he wasn’t more like his older sister, who was disgusted with him too. Mistreating those smaller than you was not to be tolerated.

“With pleasure.” Gunlaug, the light of battle in her eyes, poured a cup of cold fresh water and started up the ladder, followed by the others.

Ingeborg listened, ready to burst out laughing. Gunlaug made her threat. A grumble from Tor. The yell came right when she reached thirty. The others came laughing and joking down the ladder. Tor followed a bit later. Dressed and glowering. But he had the sense not to say another word.

Ingeborg hid her smile. “She warned you.”

Tor’s glare flicked from Gunlaug, who was smiling so wide her cheeks were stretched, to Ingeborg, who studied him with lifted chin. Even Tor was smart enough to keep quiet, but he did jerk his chair out at the table. He apparently thought better of crossing his arms and glaring at everyone, though. Instead he sulked, head down, while they drank their coffee, some well laced with milk, and ate leftover gorobrød.

Ingeborg had a good idea he would try to get even. They needed to be on watch. She thought back to the young man who had worked so hard to bring Nils up out of the ravine. Where had that young man gone, compared to the glowering boy sitting across from her? But perhaps there was hope for him after all. Time would tell.

———

“Ingeborg, I think that red and white cow is going to have her calf pretty soon,” Andres said later when they all came in from the morning chores. “You better go look at her.”

“I will. When Hjelmer wakes up, we’ll go check. Is she staying with the herd?”

They had just gathered around the table when Hjelmer came down the ladder, looking a little bleary-eyed.

“Leave it to my brother to show up when the food is ready.” Mari pointed to his place, all set for him. “I’m dishing the porridge up right now. Big or little bowl? Silly question. Just sit down.”

“I’ll say grace,” Kari said at the pause and led off with the old words they all knew so well. They passed the steaming bowls around the table, followed by the milk, cream, and molasses.

“Save some for Nils,” Ingeborg reminded Mari. “This will be easy for him to swallow.”

“I did. The bowl is covered and by the fire.”

Ingeborg smiled. “You are getting more grown up every day. I am sure Berta wishes you were at home to help in the kitchen.”

“Mor too.”

After checking on her patient, who was asleep again without his coffee, Ingeborg called the dogs and headed to the cow pasture. As she thought, no red and white cow. They called her Old Boss—she used to have another name, but now she was the oldest in the herd and indeed the boss. The bell she wore announced her coming. And going. Ingeborg listened. No bell. She was either calving or grazing on the other side of the hillock.

She waved the dogs off to search and followed when one
started barking. Sure enough, in a thicket where the cows had cleared out the middle, Old Boss was licking her still wet and steaming calf. The dogs came to her signal, and Ingeborg watched the calf struggle to get his hind legs straight, fall down, and on the third try stand. His mother kept encouraging with gentle nudges and soft cow words.

Ingeborg smiled when she realized they had a female rather than a male. While they kept all the bull calves and, after castrating them, raised them for meat, a new heifer to add to the herd was always welcome. Especially so because this might be bony Old Boss’s last calf. But then they had thought that last year too. And the year before. She amazed even Far. Although dear Old Boss didn’t produce as much milk as when she was younger, she still outdid some of the young cows, and seven of her heifers, now grown into productive milk cows, were still in the herd.

Ingeborg waited until the calf had nursed and the afterbirth delivered before moving in to herd mother and baby to the barn, where they would have a box stall for a couple of days. Old Boss shook her head and took two steps toward the human intruder. Ingeborg stood her ground and sent the dogs around to encourage the cow to move. Boss shook her head at one dog, but when the other nipped at her heels, she ordered the calf to come with her and began moving out of the thicket and up the hill toward the barn. Ingeborg trailed behind, enjoying the sun on her face. Down by the thicket she had seen enough dandelions to either come pick them herself or send some of the others down, preferably in time to cook them for supper.

When she returned to the house, Mari told her Gunlaug had fed Nils his breakfast, and he had just fallen asleep again.
“He is feeling better—you can tell. He stayed awake for quite a while. If only that cough would quit.”

Ingeborg stopped to check on him. While he was wheezing some, he seemed to be breathing with more if not most of his lungs. When he cleared his throat, he opened his eyes and smiled at her. What a great smile he had. Now that the swelling was receding on the side of his face, he looked to be quite handsome.

“I am even more convinced you are some special kind of angel.” His voice sounded much better too.

“You keep right on thinking that, so when I tell you to walk, you will.”

“You think I will walk again?”

“Of course. Why not? You just broke your leg, not your back. Ribs always heal, and the headaches will disappear with time too. You’ll be good as new.”
Now, that was a silly thing to say.
Oh great, now she had that critical voice in her head again. If Mor wasn’t there to criticize her, her inner somebody managed to do a pretty thorough job without help.

“You really believe so?”

“I do.”

“You do?” His voice was raspy, but when healthy, it was probably quite smooth and rich.

“Ja.” She could tell by the glint in his eyes he was teasing her. He sure had to feel some better to do that. He didn’t have a slow-of-speech problem, like so many of the boys she knew. “We know your first name is Nils, but you do have a last name and a place to call home? I couldn’t understand when you said it before.”

“I do. See, now you have me saying it.” One eyebrow lifted more easily than the other. “All right, my last name
is Aarvidson.” He paused to cough lustily. Even his cough sounded better, foolish as that sounded. “I came from Oslo, because I would rather be in the mountains than anywhere else. I will be a senior at a college in Oslo. Do you want my pedigree?”

“No, but is there family that would be worrying about you?”

“Not yet. But the inn where I stayed is expecting me back. How long is it since I fell?”

“I think you probably fell the day before we found you, or perhaps two days.”

He chewed on his lower lip while he tried to remember. “I think I lay there only one night but . . .” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, you’ve been with us for several days now.” She adjusted the bags he was leaning against. “Can I get you anything?”

“Did I hear someone say flatbrød last night? I wasn’t sure. Maybe I made it up.”

“Ja, and you had some. Not much. Just a dab, like this. But you managed solid food. Today we’ll start feeding you real food. Not soup. If you can manage it.”

“Good soup, though. I think. Hmm, I’m not sure of anything right now.” He yawned, which made him cough. “I might have to wait awhile. All of a sudden my eyes either see two or want to close.”

“I will bring it whenever you are ready.” Ingeborg gave him the fever test and smiled as she turned. Very little fever, if any. Such good news. She crossed the room to where Gunlaug was stringing the larger of the two looms. “Where will we put the smaller one?”

“Over where our patient is sleeping, I imagine. Shame we
don’t have an open lean-to off the house we could put the looms into, since it is only for the summer. We could store wood in it while not weaving.”

“When do you plan to start?”

“I will start on this one tonight if I get it all set up.”

“What about Bible verses?”

“I can coach them while I am weaving.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I did not realize how handsome our young man is.”

Ingeborg smiled at the words
our young man
.

Gunlaug got that look on her face again, dreamy with romantic thoughts. “I think he has had a far different life than we have. Do you think his family is very wealthy?”

Ingeborg shrugged. Money helped buy things, but it hadn’t helped him keep from falling. Or being in a serious accident earlier. She had a feeling they would soon hear fascinating stories of his life in Oslo. He was most likely a good storyteller too. In college, no less. She wondered what classes he was taking, what books he’d read. Oh, to have a selection of books to choose from! Ever since she’d finished school, she had dreamed of shelves full of books to read, like a picture she had seen in a book one day. In that picture, floor-to-ceiling shelves were crammed with books, and there was even a sort of ladder on a track to reach the highest ones. She seemed to remember it was from somewhere in England.