Chapter
20

Signe asked Einar, “Do you want to sit in the chair or lie on the quilt?”

“I will walk.” Einar dug his elbows into the dirt and tried to raise his head. He fell back with a groan.

Keep it up and you’ll make yourself worse, Nilda thought.

Rune heaved a sigh and leaned closer to Einar’s ear. “You can let us help you, or you can lie here through the night. You make the choice.”

Einar groaned.

“Head wounds are dangerous,” Signe said softly. “It hasn’t split the skin yet, but if he bangs it again and there is a crack in the skull, I don’t know how bad it could be. People die from injuries like this.”

Einar swore again.

Rune barked, “Einar Strand, you will not treat my wife like that. If you want, you can lie here and I will go get the doctor. Or we can take you into the house and to your bed, where you can be comfortable and we can see how you do.” He looked at Ivar. “Last winter we had to haul him to the kitchen after he collapsed in the snow. We used horse blankets to get him into the wagon and to the house.”

Einar held out a hand. “Help me up.”

Ivar took his hand and set his feet. “On three.”

Rune planted his boots on either side of Einar’s head and nodded. Between the two men and Signe, they got Einar sitting up. His chin rested on his chest.

“How do you feel?” Signe asked.

“Dizzy.”

Rune braced his knees against Einar’s back and turned to the boys. “You go get the chores done. Bjorn, we might need you here. Signe?”

“I’d like to get him to the house, but let me look at his head now that I can see.”

Rune kept his knees against Einar’s back, bracing him. Einar started to slip to the side. “Bjorn, here!” Bjorn leaped to his far’s side. “Hold him up.”

With gentle fingertips, Signe felt around the swiftly growing duck egg on the back of his head. “There’s a scuff, an abrasion, but the bones did not move or feel mushy.” She brushed some of the mud from his hair. “Good thing the ground is so soft. He’s lucky he didn’t break his neck. I wish we had ice or snow to put on it.”

“How do you think we should move him?” Nilda asked, kneeling next to her.

“Seems the blanket would be easiest. We have enough muscles for all the corners now.”

Rune nodded. “Einar, I am going to ease you back down. Then we’ll get the blanket under you.”

Signe rolled one of the quilts to cushion Einar’s head, and he groaned when his head sank into the quilt rather than the ground.

They were all panting by the time they had carried Einar to the house, taking turns on the blanket corners. Gerd met them at the bottom of the steps.

“He’s a big man,” Nilda muttered, her arms aching.

They carried him to the bed, where Gerd had thrown back the covers and laid an old sheet across the mattress.

“Dumb fool,” she muttered as she unlaced his boots and set them beneath the bed. “What could a doctor do that we can’t?” she asked Signe.

“What do you have for pain?”

“Willow bark. He used up what was left of the medicine the doctor gave us for Bjorn when he cut his hand. We could send Bjorn to town to get more.”

“Any whiskey?” Ivar asked.

“Nei.”

Einar muttered something unintelligible. His groans, however, were distinct—and not pleasant.

Rune ordered, “Bjorn, saddle Rosie and go to Benson’s. See if they have any . . . any . . .”

“Laudanum.” Signe filled in for him. “Or whiskey. That would work too. If they have both, fine.”

“What if they don’t have any?” Bjorn asked.

“Then go to the doctor in Blackduck,” Rune said.

Gerd dug in the dresser and brought back some bills. “Pay with this.”

Bjorn ran out the door.

“Onkel Einar, we’re going to roll you on your side so I can clean the back of your head.” Signe ignored his muttering.

“You want an infection too?” Gerd asked, shaking her head. “What got into you?”

Einar yelped when they rolled him slightly onto his side. Signe slid a towel underneath his head and, taking the pan of water Nilda handed her, set about cleaning the injury with a cloth. Nilda dumped the pan of dirty water and brought more.

Once the mud was cleaned off, Signe parted his wet hair with her fingertips to see how bad the lump at the base of his skull was. Nilda peered over her shoulder. It had grown both higher and wider but seemed more of a scrape than a bleeding cut. Signe laid his head back down, ignoring the groan that sounded like another expletive. “Gerd, that liniment you have, that has alcohol in it, right?”

Gerd shrugged. “I can look at the bottle. He can’t drink it.”

“I know, but it could disinfect the wound. All that mud and dirt. If I wash it good with that . . .”

“It’s going to sting like fire,” Nilda offered.

Gerd returned with the bottle of brown liquid and handed it to Signe, all the while shaking her head. Out in the kitchen, Kirstin progressed from fits of whimpering to full-blown demand.

“Let me finish that. You go take care of that hungry baby.” Nilda took the bottle of liniment and the cloth from her sister-in-law, who went straight to her daughter. “Gerd, you want to hold his head?” Nilda leaned closer to Einar’s ear. “This is going to burn.”

He muttered what sounded like an assent.

She soaked the cloth and laid it against the deep scrape. Einar clamped his teeth and jerked his head away when she reapplied the cloth after soaking it again. “I am going to hold this here to let it sink in.” When she felt him relax the slightest, she laid his head down on the cloth and stepped back. “Can you open your eyes?” His eyes fluttered open. “I’m going to open them further with my fingers.”

“What for?”

“To see if they match. When my brother hit his head badly, the doctor said if the pupils match in size, the wound is not severe.” She checked each eye. “Almost the same. Your head is going to hurt a lot. And you might be dizzy. The doctor told my brother to take it easy until the dizziness passed.”

Einar slitted his eyes at her, but then closed them immediately. He started to raise his head but groaned and flopped back.

Nilda turned to Gerd. “How long before Bjorn can be back here?”

“Soon, if they have something at Benson’s Corner. Otherwise it will be several hours. You can’t push that old horse too hard, or she might collapse.” Gerd looked at her husband. A snore moved his lips. She motioned to the door. Out in the kitchen, she said softly, “If he would just do what you say, but he is so stubborn.”

Signe and Nilda exchanged looks that did not need words. Signe put her clothing back together and laid Kirstin on the chest to change her, blowing on her tummy and making her giggle.

Nilda laughed. “She is such a happy baby.”

“Ja, that she is. Not getting fed when she says she is ready is about the only thing that makes her cranky.”

“That and teething.” Gerd started to set the table. “Wait until the boys come in, she gets so excited.”

By the time Rune and the boys came in from chores, supper was ready.

“Smells good in here.” Ivar nudged Knute. “You did a good job getting rabbit for supper.”

“I might need to move the snares again. Bjorn was hoping to get another deer, but I would rather go fishing.”

“Do you ever hunt squirrels? I read there are a lot of squirrels here, and ducks and geese.”

Knute shrugged. “We haven’t used the shotgun to get birds. Bjorn is the best shot.”

They all sat down at the table. Knute looked from Einar’s empty chair to his mor and cocked his eyebrows.

“He’s sleeping right now, the best thing he can be doing.” Signe and Nilda set the platter of food and bowls on the table.

“Is he hurt bad?” Leif asked.

“Could be a lot worse, but he should get better soon.”

Supper without Einar was far different. The boys got Ivar talking about people they knew in Norway and what had gone on there since they left. He made them laugh with a story about trying to teach a pony to pull a cart, leaving Nilda shaking her head.

“He does stretch things just a bit.” Nilda grinned at her younger brother.

“That’s why he is a storyteller and I am not.” Rune passed the plate of biscuits around again.

Knute looked up at some sound he had heard. “Bjorn is back.”

A minute later, they heard boots on the porch, and Bjorn pulled open the screen door. “Mrs. Benson sent what she had. The store doesn’t carry much medicine.” He handed Signe a bottle. “She said she hopes he feels better soon.”

Knute pushed back his chair. “I’ll take care of Rosie.”

“Cookies for dessert,” Gerd told him.

“I know. I’ll hurry.”

While Bjorn and the others finished their supper, Signe took a spoon and the bottle to the bedroom, and Nilda followed.

“Onkel Einar.” When he didn’t respond, Signe shook his shoulder. “I brought you some medicine.”

Nilda fetched a glass of water. “Let’s pour some in this. It’ll be easier to take.”

“Onkel Einar, you must wake up and drink this,” Signe insisted.

The snoring stopped, and his eyes fluttered open. “What?” No matter the pain, the growl did not leave his voice.

“I’m going to lift you enough so you can drink.” Nilda slid her arm behind his shoulders.

Signe put the glass to his lips and helped him drink the liquid. She wiped his chin with a towel after Nilda laid him back down. “That should ease the pain. We will bring you something to eat when you are ready.”

He mumbled something but slipped back into sleep as they watched.

The others spent the evening talking around the table, laughing, doing away with the cookies, and drinking coffee or milk or a combination thereof. After the boys went to bed, the five adults kept talking, with Gerd mostly listening. Nilda and Signe washed and put away the dishes as if they had not had an entire year apart. When they tried to feed Einar, he shook his head, then groaned and slid back into sleep.

Gerd left them to go to bed, and the four kept on.

A while later, Nilda asked, “So, has he always been careless?”

“No, but he thinks he knows more than anyone else. He works harder than anyone I know, but he always has to be right.” Rune shook his head.

“Seems more like mean to me.” Nilda looked at Signe.

“He’s a different man in the woods. He has taught me and Bjorn so much about lumbering. He built, although he had help for a time, all the buildings on this land. But after he ordered everyone off his place, he was working alone. Had we not come when we did, I am sure Gerd would have died, but Signe refused to let her do that.” Rune smiled at his wife. “She slipped past Gerd’s anger and got her back to where she is now. Signe carried the heaviest burden here.”

Nilda reached across the table and patted Signe’s hand. “You always have been such a hard worker.”

“But here it was without gratitude from either of them,” Rune said.

“But remember, Gerd saved mine and Kirstin’s lives.” Signe trapped a yawn with her hand.

Nilda echoed the yawn. “I’ll stay downstairs tonight, so I can hear if Einar needs anything.”

“I will too.” Ivar said. The yawn was making its way around the circle.

“Einar was planning on seeding corn tomorrow,” Rune said.

“He probably won’t be able to stand yet by the morning. If he tries without help, he will most likely fall.” Nilda looked at her older brother. “Another dose of laudanum will probably see him through the night.”

Signe picked Kirstin up from her downstairs bed and carried her upstairs. “Good night, everyone.”

Nilda and Ivar set up pallets in the parlor, and she fell asleep before she could even turn over. Sometime during the night, she felt one of the cats curl up in the bend of her knees. The purring sent her right back to sleep.

She woke to the creak of stairs as Rune made his way down to the kitchen. She lay there a few minutes more, enjoying the rattle of the stove lids. What a good brother she had, to start the stove in the morning.

She threw back the cover and was just standing when she heard a thud from the other bedroom.

Gerd called, “Rune?”

Nilda and Rune found Einar on the floor, groaning but not moving.

“You think he forgot?” Nilda asked.

Gerd, sitting up in bed, snorted. “Or more likely figured he knew better. Who knows.”

“Einar, we are helping you up. Can you hear me?” Rune asked.

“Not deaf.”

“I know, but you need help to stand. Ready?”

The muttering didn’t sound like he believed them.

“Here, let me help.” Ivar took Nilda’s place. On three, he and Rune hoisted Einar up to sit on the edge of the bed. He swayed to one side, but they kept him from falling. “Lie back now, and we’ll help with your legs.”

“Ain’t no cripple.”

“Keep him sitting while I get the laudanum.” When Nilda held the glass to his mouth, Einar drank without being prompted.

“Got to seed that field.” The words slid apart and slurred before he lay flat again.

“We’ll see to that,” Rune assured him.

Back in the kitchen, Nilda refilled the coffeepot while Rune started the stove. When Ivar came back inside from visiting the outhouse, his bare feet wet from the dew, he nodded and smiled at his brother. “No mountains, but it sure is beautiful out there. Will the boys go to school today?”

“Ja.” Rune cocked his head. “That’s them on the stairs.”

“You want to milk this morning?” Knute asked Ivar when he entered the kitchen.

“I guess I can.” Ivar flexed his hands. “I don’t think they forgot something that important.” He followed Knute and Leif out the door.

“So what are the plans for the day?” Bjorn asked.

Rune replied, “I’ll do the seeding. You and Ivar clean up from the blasting. I’m going to pair the two teams like that man said, so that if one wants to bolt, the other will hold steady. If Einar had done what the man suggested, he’d be out planting corn right now. We’ll put one team on the seeder, and you can hook the others up to the wagon to haul whatever wood can be used up to the house. Then I’m thinking to start plowing that section we’ve already cleared. It’d be good if we can plant hay or oats there.” He glanced toward the bedroom door. “If Einar would only tell me what he wants in advance rather than barking out orders at the table, I could follow his plans as well.”

Signe held Kirstin on her hip as she entered the kitchen. “That was Einar that hit the floor, right?” She shook her head at Rune’s nod.

The men and boys trooped out to handle the morning chores, and Nilda made her morning outhouse trip.

“What a glorious morning,” she said to Signe when she came back in. “You heard the birds singing?”

“Ja, that was robins and probably a thrush. They’re back now.”

“Lovely. Signe, what do you want me to do first?”

“Start the oatmeal, which is on the third shelf in the pantry, in the bigger tins. We’ll have fried eggs and the last of the ham. Then we can set dried beans to cook on the hambone for supper.”

Nilda felt her mouth start to water. “You eat well here.”

“Ja, we do. I will start bread from the sourdough after breakfast.” She turned to smile at her daughter. “You’d think she knew how to talk the way she carries on.”

“She probably wishes you knew what she is trying to say.” Nilda fetched the oatmeal tin and pumped water into the kettle Signe set out. “We won’t be eating porridge?”

“Oatmeal here is different than porridge at home. Thick and served with cream and brown sugar.”

“Perhaps you better show me.”

Signe scooped out several cups of oatmeal. “This is enough. Add salt too. I wait until the water is near to boiling.” She set the ham on the table and sliced off the remaining meat into a skillet with fat from the drippings can on the shelf behind the stove. “Not as much as usual, but this ham sure has gone a long way.”

Still tucking up the twist of her long hair, Gerd joined them in the kitchen. “Sorry I slept so long.”

“Did he do all right during the night?”

“Must have, his snoring seemed normal. I woke when he hit the floor, but you and Rune were there before I could move, so I didn’t. Takk.” She nodded at Nilda and reached for her apron. “Hard to believe that I went back to sleep.”

After the boys left for school and the men for the fields, the three women sat down for another cup of coffee.

“Your second morning in Minnesota,” Signe said.

“Yesterday sure was an eventful day.” Nilda glanced toward the bedroom. “I hope he sleeps much of today.”

“Who knows,” Gerd said with a slow shake of her head. “I hope he listens for a change.”

“He might pay a price if he doesn’t.” Nilda heaved a sigh. “Men can be so stubborn, and some are more stubborn than others.”

“Ja.” Gerd stared down at her coffee. “Some are.”