Chapter
19

Nilda watched as Einar pushed his chair back from the breakfast table and stood up. “Rune, you take over the team today. Ivar, you and Bjorn come with me.”

Rune asked, “What about the stumps?”

“Go back to that tomorrow. Should be able to start seeding tomorrow. After dinner I’m going to look at that team.” Einar headed for the door.

Rune nodded. “We can blast stumps then. The boys can pick up pieces when they get home.”

Einar paused. “How much dynamite is left?”

“Quarter of the box.”

“How many to blow at your place?”

“Six, ten.”

“Keep out that many sticks.”

Nilda listened to the exchange. Every word that left Einar’s lips sounded angry. Everyone back home was soft-spoken. Nilda resisted the urge to shake her head. How would she ever get used to this?

Bjorn and Ivar followed Einar out the door. “I’ll hitch up the team,” Bjorn threw over his shoulder.

“Now that was a surprise.” Still at the table, Rune stacked his dirty dishes.

“What?” Nilda asked.

“He’s going to look at a team of horses that’s for sale. I sure hope he can get it. Ours need a rest.” He rose from the table. “You going to start planting the garden today?”

“Ja, potatoes first. And peas. It’d be good if the boys could help us instead.”

Rune nodded and smiled at his sister. “Welcome to the way we live.”

Nilda followed him out onto the porch. “Is this usual for Onkel Einar?”

“Ja, why?”

“I know you hinted at his way in your letters, but I just wondered.” She looked out over the fields. “It’s pretty flat here, compared to home.”

“Ja, and no mountains on the horizon. Open land, once the big trees are gone. If I let myself think of the mountains or life in Norway, I get homesick. Signe had a real hard time with that, but then, Gerd was not as she is now.”

Nilda watched him go. Her brother had aged in the year he was here, but there was something in him that she had not seen in Norway. She’d have to think on that to figure it out.

Signe joined her on the porch. “I’ll get the basket of seed potatoes. We should have cut them up last night.”

They cut the potatoes into chunks, making sure there were two eyes in every piece. With Nilda carrying the potato sacks and Signe bringing two hoes and her gardening basket, in which were two stakes strung with twine to mark the rows, they headed for the garden.

“When we got here,” Signe said, “the weeds had taken over the garden, so we had to weed really carefully. I have no idea how Einar planted the garden last spring, not with taking care of Gerd and the house too. You cannot believe how filthy this place was. And overrun by mice.”

“But now you have cats.”

“Ja, he was not happy about that either. One of the many things he holds against me. He does not like cats in the house.”

“But he didn’t mind mice?” Nilda shuddered. “I hate mice in the house.” She shaded her eyes with her hand. “You don’t have anyone living close by.”

“Nei, but we finally met some of the neighbors at church. To the west are the Garborgs. The boys know their children from school.” She handed one of the stakes to Nilda. “You take this end down to where the plowed land ends and sink it in the dirt so we can mark straight rows. We’ll plant till we run out of potatoes. I’ll dig the hole, you drop in the seed, and push the dirt back over it with your foot.”

The potato planting went quickly. They moved the stakes over and switched off between hoeing and burying potato chunks.

“If it weren’t for Gerd, Kirstin would be in a sling on my back, helping her mor plant. This sure goes faster with two people.”

“Do people stop to have coffee around here?” Nilda leaned on the handle of the hoe and used her apron to wipe the sweat off her face. “Where is that wind you’ve talked about?”

“Let’s set the stakes for the first row of peas and at least get a drink of water.”

They walked to the house and met Gerd at the doorway.

The older woman smiled. “I was just coming to call you for coffee. And Kirstin is fussy and nuzzling for her mor.”

“Good timing. Potatoes are in, peas by dinner.” Signe put the pea seeds in a large bowl and poured water on them.

Nilda pondered this new life as the women sipped coffee and discussed planting beans soon. The soil here was as rich as any she’d known in Norway, and flatter. It is so much easier to plant a garden that isn’t sloping. And look at the size of this garden. There was even an unplanted berm around it, as if there were so much land that you could afford to let a strip lie idle. Wouldn’t it be lovely to plant flowers on that berm?

By the time the men came in for dinner, Nilda was cleaning and sharpening the hoes, and Signe was feeding Kirstin again.

Nilda and Signe had finished the early crops of potatoes, peas, lettuce, and greens and were working on the second row of beans when the boys came up the lane, the little horse under them as eager to get home as they were. They hollered and waved before Leif bailed off with the dinner pails and Knute let their horse loose in the corral. The little mare immediately trotted to a sandy hollow spot and rolled from side to side, kicking her legs in the air. Knute made his way, whistling, up to the garden gate.

Nilda grinned at him. “You two sure are fortunate to have a horse to ride back and forth to school.”

“I know. Onkel Einar wanted us to get home faster so we could get more work done here. Leif and I do all the daily farm chores so the others can be out felling the big trees.”

“They cut and split most of the wood for the stove too.” Signe set her garden basket at the base of the gate post. “Let’s go have coffee. I imagine a certain someone will think it time to eat too.”

Knute nodded. “Then Leif and I better cut up that tree and get to splitting. You are about out of wood.”

Nilda clapped a hand on his shoulder. “How was school?”

“Almost done.” He turned to walk between them toward the house. “They have a big party on the last day, which is two days from now. All kinds of races and such. Sometimes the parents come too.”

“Do you want us to come?” Signe asked.

He shook his head. “You don’t need to. I’d just as soon get home as fast as I can. Jason Bergson said they even have ice cream on the last day and prizes for the races.”

They mounted the stairs to the porch, where there was no longer a stack of firewood along the wall.

“I can split wood too.” Nilda looked at Signe. “It would not be my first time, you know.”

“I know. You split wood, and I’ll churn the butter. We can plant more in the garden tomorrow.”

“Mor, did I tell you we have a broody hen?” In the kitchen, Leif grinned around a mouthful of cookie and a milk mustache.

“How many eggs under her?” Gerd asked.

“I’ll check. How many do you want?”

“Ten, at least. We need fryers and pullets both.”

“Isn’t it early for a hen to be setting?” Nilda asked as she dried her hands after washing the garden soil off them.

“A bit, but it will be warm in three weeks when they hatch. Some of those hens are getting up in years and will end in the stew pot this year. We need a younger rooster too.”

“How come you don’t have a dog here?” Nilda caught the raised eyebrow from Signe. Figuring she already knew the answer, she watched Gerd.

“Einar doesn’t . . .”

Nilda nodded. “Ja, I see.”

“But he got used to the cats,” Gerd continued, “and even he admitted cats in the barn would be good, and I think it’s about time we had a dog here too. Help keep away the varmints.”

Knute pushed back his chair. “I’ll check the snares now, and then we need to start sawing.”

Nilda nodded at Leif. “Come on, show me where things are, and we can start.”

Leif hopped up from the table and they went outside. “Mor said we should wear gloves so we don’t get blisters.”

“Good idea. Where might I find them?”

“In a box on the shelf on the porch. During the winter we keep it behind the stove to dry things out. I’ll get them for you.” He scampered to the porch and leaped off the edge a moment later. “This one has a hole but they should work.”

Nilda pulled on the gloves and grabbed one end of the crosscut saw. Sawing wood felt good on her shoulder muscles and made her quickly realize the need for leather gloves. She had winter hands, and the garden hoe had already started a blister.

“Remember,” Leif warned, “pull, don’t push.”

“Takk.” She grinned at him. “You know your stuff.”

He set the saw at the end of the tree trunk that rested on two sawbucks. “You pull.”

They got into a rhythm after only a couple of bucklings and reminders, and soon the first spool dropped to the ground. They grabbed the trunk and hauled it forward to give them another fifteen-inch length, then set to sawing again.

When Knute arrived after hanging two rabbit carcasses on the porch hooks, he rolled the first spool to the chopping block and set it on top. With one swing, he nearly buried the ax head in the center. Wiggling it free, he swung the ax again, and the two halves split apart.

Nilda watched him out of the corner of her eye while she sawed. The blade buckled. “Oops.” She looked at Leif, who shook his head.

“Onkel Einar says if we break a blade, we have to buy a new one.”

One more mark against “Onkel” Einar.

“What happens when we run out of tree here?” she asked.

“We need to find another one. When school is out, Knute and I get to go cut up branches from the big trees to use for the stove. Onkel Einar was going to burn them all, but it seemed such a waste.”

“Now you sound like your far. He has always been careful not to waste things. Remember, in Norway we don’t have all these trees to cut for firewood. So we were very careful not to waste anything.”

They had just moved the chopping block closer to the rounds when they heard the jangle of a team coming up the lane. Looking up, Nilda saw Einar and Bjorn driving a team with two other horses trotting behind on leads.

“Onkel Einer got another team.” The boys grinned at her. Then kept on splitting, one on the second chopping block.

“Where are we going to stack all this?” Nilda asked. She nudged Leif. “Let’s take a quick break and go see the new horses.”

Einar drove the team down to the barn, where he and Bjorn unharnessed their team. Bjorn led their horses to the corral while Einar started harnessing the new team.

Nilda and the boys stood off to the side, admiring the new team. Rune and Ivar walked up with their tools slung in a sack on their backs and joined them.

“You finished with the stumps?” Einar asked.

Rune nodded. “Even those on my land.”

“Got some time yet. I’ll hitch these two to the disk and see how they do in the field.”

Bjorn stepped in beside Einar and held the crupper while he adjusted the tugs. “That’s not what the fellow said, Onkel Einar. He said hitch one of ours to a new one for a week or so until they get used to the work and the place. Settle them. This is the first they’ve ever left their farm.”

“You saying I can’t handle a team, boy?”

“No sir. Just saying what he said; they’re trained to pull, but they’re green.”

“Not you, and not some stranger going to tell me what to do.” Einar walked the new team over to the disk.

Bjorn shrugged and hooked the tugs in.

“Good-looking team,” Rune commented. “Big, good muscle, bulky.”

“The mare is pregnant.” Einar settled himself onto the metal seat of the disk and flipped the lines. The horse on the right did a sidle dance and snorted, but his teammate started forward at the second flip of the lines and a barked order.

Then a gust of wind caught Nilda’s apron and flapped it.

The horse on the right jumped forward, half rearing, and the other bolted into a gallop.

“Whoa, whoa!” Einar yelled, hauling back on the lines with all his might. The disk tipped one way and then the other. Einar flew off backward, landing on his back with a horrible grinding thump. The lines flew free, then wrapped around the disk seat.

Ivar and Bjorn ran for the team. Rune and Nilda leaped to Einar’s side.

Rune knelt next to him. “Einar!”

No response.

“He’s breathing.” Nilda said from his other side. “Check his head—is he bleeding?”

Rune felt the back of the man’s head. But when he drew his hand out, there was no blood. “One spot feels rather soft. Most likely right where he hit. Einar, can you hear me?”

Still no response.

Nilda felt his neck and pinched both hands.

“What the—?” Einar muttered but the words were still clear. He jerked his hands away from Nilda. “What happened?” He blinked and blinked again. “What—where—?”

“Just lie still,” Rune urged, “let’s see if anything is broken.”

“Nei, I can . . .” Einar started to raise his head but let it fall back down, saved by Rune’s arm, which cushioned him.

“Lie still! Don’t be a fool.”

Nilda stared at her brother. She’d never heard him use that forceful of a tone before.

Einar groaned but did as he was told.

Nilda looked up to see Ivar and Bjorn leading the new team, still dragging the disk, back to the barn. The horses’ ears and the whites of their eyes told of their fright. They jigged in place but were settling as they walked.

“Tell me when something hurts.” Rune lifted each of Einar’s arms and legs and bent them. “The hip?”

“Ja. My head.”

“How bad is he?” Signe softly asked from Rune’s side. Nilda hadn’t heard her come from the house.

“No broken bones that I can find. But he plowed dirt with his head.”

“Bleeding?”

“Not that I can find.”

“Einar, can you see me?” Signe asked.

His eyes fluttered twice, then opened. “Ja.”

She held up her hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

“Three. No time for games.” He groaned again. “Help me up.”

Rune laid a hand on his shoulder. “Not yet.”

A string of expletives filled the air.

“Just listen,” Rune said, getting forceful again. “If you have broken bones in your neck or back, you could make the injury far worse, so just give us some time.”

Signe looked up. “Knute, go get the rocking chair from the house and a quilt. Leif, get a horse blanket from the barn.”

Ivar knelt beside Nilda. “The team is in the corral. We let the others out to pasture. How will we move him?”

“I will walk,” Einar growled.

Rune kept a hand on his shoulder, just in case.

Signe looked up. “We can carry him in the chair if he cannot walk. Or we will carry him using the horse blanket and a quilt.”

“I can walk.” Einar stared up at Nilda. “This is all her fault!”