Chapter
32

Do you have any idea where the key might be?” Nilda asked after they set the metal box on the kitchen table.

Gerd fingered the padlock, shaking her head. “I have no idea, but a saw will take care of that.”

“Or some really strong cutters. But where would we find those?” Nilda asked.

“Only in the machine shed. Seems to me this might be worth calling Rune for help,” Signe said.

Gerd shook her head. “It has waited this long. Another few hours won’t make any difference. I’ve been thinking . . . it seems like the contract would have been with those other papers.”

“The contract?”

“From when we bought this place. Einar always kept his papers in that drawer, not that we have very many.” She shook her head again. “Strange. I wonder where that could have gone.”

They finished scrubbing the bedroom floor, and when it had dried, they put the bedroom back to rights. Signe could tell that Gerd was worrying over the whereabouts of the contract.

“Perhaps the contract is in that metal box. That might make sense.”

“Perhaps.” Gerd rested her hands on her hips as she looked around the room. “Takk for all your help. Such a difference.”

“A rug by your bed would look nice and feel good on your feet in the morning,” Signe suggested.

Gerd shrugged. “I braided a rag rug one time. I think Einar burned it after he tripped over it.” She spoke without rancor. “Perhaps I shall buy some pretty material to make new curtains, brighten it up some. If you like, we could move Kirstin’s bed in here.”

“Rune said one of these days he is going to make another rocker. Just think, you might have one too after we move into the new house.”

Gerd nodded and sighed. “I will miss my little one.” She straightened. “But Nilda and Ivar will still be here. That is a good thing.”

“We will be here as usual.” Signe smiled at Gerd. “And we aren’t far away.”

Leif and Knute leaped up onto the porch steps and burst into the kitchen. “Time to start chores. You need anything from the well house?”

“That’s all right, I’ll get it,” Signe told them. “I need to skim pans anyway.”

The sun was floating toward the horizon when she stepped out of the well house with the crock of buttermilk in her arm. She paused to look across the western fields and let the hint of evening breeze kiss her cheeks. Lord God, such beauty, even if there are no mountains. Smiling to herself, she strode back to the house, pausing when she heard a horse and buggy coming down the lane.

“Who can that be?” Gerd asked from the chair on the porch, where she sat with the baby sleeping in her arms.

“Reverend Skarstead, I think.” Signe waved and carried the crock into the house to set on the counter. On her way out, she added, “I think we’ll make dumplings to go with the stew for supper. Perhaps he would like to join us.”

“Hello, Mrs. Carlson,” Reverend Skarstead called. “I hope you have time for a visitor.”

Signe smiled. “For you, always. Rune and the boys are down at the new house.”

“I figured. How about I head on down there to see how the house is going? Then we can talk?”

“Of course. We will set you a place at the table.”

“You needn’t—”

“Ja, we do.”

When the men and boys trooped through the door a while later, supper was ready to dish up.

“That will be, or rather, is becoming some house,” Reverend Skarstead said with a nod to the ladies. “We will have to have a real celebration when you move over there.” He dried his hands and stopped next to Gerd. “Thank you for having me in your home.”

“I am the one to be thanking you.” She wiped her hand on her apron and held it out. “The order to stay off this land was buried with Einar, along with all the anger and hate. Please, make yourself at home here with us.”

“I hope this means you will join your family in church?”

“Ja, I will.”

Signe and Nilda smiled at each other with matching sighs.

When everyone was seated, Rune asked the reverend to say the blessing.

Skarstead smiled around the table. “That is my privilege. Takk. Thank you, Lord, for this family, this home, this food. We thank you for the new house and pray your grace and mercy upon us all. In Christ’s name, amen.”

As Signe poured the coffee, she could not stop smiling. To think that Reverend Skarstead was having supper with them. Was it he who brought this sense of peace to the house or . . . ? Just be thankful, she told herself.

“I know it is getting late, but before you go, could I please ask you a couple of questions?” Rune asked.

“Of course?”

“I—we are curious as to what happened all those years ago to cause the hate and animosity.”

Skarstead nodded. “Actually, the Bensons know more details than I do, but . . .” He looked to Gerd. “May I continue, Mrs. Strand?”

Gerd nodded.

“Please add anything you want.” He cleared his throat. “When Einar lived in Blackduck, he was looking for a place in this area to purchase. When Joe Benson heard that, he brought Einar here, where a cousin of his had died and his widow wanted to return to Norway with her children. Einar offered to purchase this land with tickets to return to Norway as the down payment. I—I’m not sure what the exact amount and stipulations were, but he agreed to pay the remainder in installments, most likely when he sold logs.” He glanced at Gerd, who nodded. “But the controversy began when the Bensons received one letter and then several others saying Einar had never sent any further payments.”

Gerd’s mouth dropped open. “Are—are you sure?”

He nodded. “It seems that way. The Bensons were furious and came out here to try to settle this, but Einar drove them away before they could even talk.” He looked at Gerd, who sat like stone. His voice softened. “You did not know that?”

“B-but he told me two or three times that he had sent another payment. He went to Blackduck to do so. We built this house after the shack she had lived in burned down. They had started the barn before the husband died, so Einar finished that first. Several men came to help with both buildings. But after that . . .”

“Do you have the contract?” the reverend asked.

“I thought so, but it is not with his papers.”

“Today we found a locked metal box beneath the floor.” Signe leaned forward. “But we have no idea where the key might be.”

Gerd shook her head. “The contract was not in the drawer with his papers or the cash box. I’ll get it to show you.” She returned from the bedroom with both boxes in hand.

Rune inspected the metal box. “A padlock like this can be sawed open.” He looked at Ivar. “Could you please get that small saw down in the machine shed? On the wall of the bench? You’ll need a lantern.”

Ivar nodded. “Be right back.”

“More coffee anyone?” When everyone shook their head, Signe sat back down. “Are you all right, Tante Gerd?”

Gerd stared at her. “He was such an honest man when I married him. What happened?”

“Looks to me like he got greedy. I’m sorry, Mrs. Strand. So very sorry.” Skarstead leaned forward. “Are you all right?”

A sigh that ached of anguish made her close her eyes. “I will be.”

Ivar returned with the saw, a hammer, and a screwdriver. “There is more than one way to break a lock.”

“The voice of experience?” Rune asked.

“Not telling.” Ivar applied the saw to the metal, but when it didn’t appear to be a quick process, he picked up the hammer and screwdriver and pried the box apart at the hinges.

They all stared at the contents. A fat leather pouch that clanked, a small stack of receipts tied together with string, and several letters addressed to Einar, along with another plain envelope. A thick one.

Rune laid everything out on the table. “You want me to open them?” he asked softly.

Gerd touched the blank envelope. “This one.”

Rune pulled the papers out of the envelope and unfolded them, then leaned closer to the lamp to read it aloud. It spelled out the details of the contract.

“Ja, that is what he told me.” Gerd sniffed. “I—I thought he offered a good way to help them. She seemed so lost and homesick, and this made it possible for her to go home. Einar bought the tickets and gave them to her. Once they left, we moved in right away and got to work. Einar—well, we both were hard workers. And so pleased to have a place of our own.” She glanced slowly around the kitchen, pausing at the door to the bedroom where Kirstin was now asleep in her bed. She pointed to the two envelopes addressed to Einar. “Please read those.”

Rune did so; both were pleas for the remainder owed. Gerd’s head started shaking again, as if of its own accord. Only the sound of the June bugs banging on the screen door and an errant mosquito broke the silence. As if none of them were breathing.

Gerd straightened her back and raised her chin. “I will pay her what is due—with interest. Whatever it takes, I will make it right. If I can’t pay it all right now, I will finish when we sell the logs next winter.”

“God bless you, Mrs. Strand. Would you like help with this?” the reverend asked.

“If you mean with money, no thank you. If you mean getting this sent to her, yes.”

“How about if tomorrow I bring Mr. and Mrs. Benson out, and between us all, we make sure this happens.” Skarstead looked at the contract again. “Are you sure you have enough cash to cover a bank draft for this amount?”

“How much is it?” Gerd nodded to Signe, who opened the cigar box and the leather pouches and removed the money.

“Never have I seen such prosperity in cleaning a bedroom,” Signe quipped.

Rune rolled his eyes, Nilda rolled her lips, and Reverend Skarstead cleared his throat as if to stop a cough.

“Well?” Gerd said. “Start counting.”

Though Signe and Nilda had counted the money earlier, they laid the bills out in stacks of a hundred dollars and recounted the coins into stacks as well, just to be sure. Reverend Skarstead tallied up the columns.

“You have enough here, I think. If you send her the money owed and interest at two percent, the total will be, uh . . .” His pencil scratched as he wrote it all out.

They all stared in shock at the final amount.

“You won’t have much left,” Signe said.

“I will have enough to pay off the other house and get through the months till we sell logs again.”

Rune bristled. “No, Tante Gerd, no. We will pay for our own house.”

Her eyes narrowed. “We shall see on that.” She nodded again. “And we will buy a small flock of sheep.” She looked directly at Rune again. “There will be no more contracts around here.”

Nilda snorted. Signe coughed.

Ivar threw back his head and laughed. “If I were you, Reverend Skarstead, Rune, and the rest of you, I would just do like she says. They don’t say Norwegians are stubborn for nothing.”

A few minutes later, after a parting prayer and good-byes on the porch, Ivar untied Skarstead’s horse and backed him up enough to turn the buggy around. “Sorry, we never thought to take care of your horse. Takk, sir, you have been a wonderful help.”

“Good thing we have a near full moon tonight. No chance of us stumbling along.” Skarstead looked at those on the porch. “I will see you tomorrow afternoon, most likely, Mrs. Strand, and we will get this all taken care of.”

“You won’t tell anyone else, will you?” Gerd asked.

“No, only those necessary.”

That night in bed, Rune reached for Signe’s hand. “Did all of this really happen in one day?”

“I think so.”

“I can’t let her pay off our house.”

“I would not try to stop her.” Signe could hear his sigh, but that was the last thing she heard that night.

In the morning at breakfast, Gerd announced, “I expect you to work on your house and all the farming duties until fall. Then you can start felling trees again.”

“But . . . but . . .” Rune tried to stare her down—and utterly failed. “We’ll see.”

That afternoon, Reverend Skarstead rolled in, accompanied by the Bensons and a young man.

The women hastily removed their aprons and hung them behind the stove. “Come in, come in,” called Signe. “Leif, go fetch your far.” He left the woodpile and darted away.

The fragrance of fresh gingerbread greeted their guests as they entered the kitchen, where a tablecloth decorated the big oak table.

“This is Mr. Ellis Carnes from Blackduck. He is an attorney with a firm that specializes in contracts and international affairs.” Reverend Skarstead then introduced them all around, and the men moved to the chairs around the table.

“Where is that sweet little Kirstin? Surely she’s not napping.” Mrs. Benson’s smile dimmed. “She is, isn’t she?”

Gerd nodded. “Ja, but we moved her bed into my bedroom. She’ll be up soon.”

“Guess I will have to wait.” Mrs. Benson held out a basket. “Just a few things I thought you could use.”

“Takk, and also for all the food yesterday. We found a full meal on the table when we came back from . . .” Signe paused and continued with a slight nod. “You were and are most thoughtful.”

Mrs. Benson nodded. “You are welcome. I treasure your friendship. And, Mrs. Strand”—she took Gerd’s hand in hers—“the Lord be with you.”

Gerd raised her chin and blinked quickly. “Takk. You have been so very good to us, in spite of—of everything.”

While the women had discussed using the parlor for this meeting, Gerd had insisted on the kitchen, where there was more room. “Please, be seated. If you like, we could have our coffee before the business.”

The three men nodded. “Nothing beats gingerbread.” Mr. Benson smiled at Gerd. “I’m sorry for all you’ve gone through.”

Gerd nodded. “Takk for helping search for Einar.”

They all looked toward the door when they heard Rune’s boots on the step. He paused for only an instant when he entered the kitchen and saw the table. “Thank you for coming so quickly. It will be good to be done with all this.” He shook the hands of each of the men and nodded at Mr. Carnes.

Nilda poured the coffee, and Signe set out the gingerbread drizzled with hard sauce. “Help yourselves, please.”

They talked about the house-raising and the weather as the dessert and coffee disappeared. When the visitors had declined more coffee and cake, Reverend Skarstead rested his arms on the table. “Let us begin. I explained your plans to Mr. Carnes, so I think we all know what you want, Mrs. Strand. Have you changed your mind on anything? You can, you know.”

Gerd shook her head. “No, not at all. I want this done and finished.”

“But you realize that by paying out everything at once, you will leave yourself without much cash for the next several months?”

“I have been without before, and now I have all this to be thankful for and family to help me. What more do I really need?”

“Well said,” Mr. Carnes commented. “Thanks to Reverend Skarstead, I took the liberty of drawing up some papers. Since he said the cash is all right here, after you sign these”—he motioned to the papers in front of him—“I will purchase a bank draft and mail this to the family in Norway. You will have copies of everything.” He slid several sheets over to her. “Please read these—Mr. Carlson too, if you desire—and then sign on the lines. Do you have any questions?”

Gerd looked to Rune and Reverend Skarstead. When they nodded, she read the pages, dipped the pen they had brought into the ink, and signed her name. “Strange, these are the first legal papers I have ever signed. Einar did all that.” She laid her hand atop the pages. “Do you want Rune to sign them too?”

“Only if you want him to.”

“Yes, I do.” She gave the papers and pen to Rune, who read and signed them before handing them to Mr. Carnes.

“Anything else?” Gerd asked. When the attorney shook his head, she nodded. “Then I feel we are finished here. Thank you for your time. What do I owe you, Mr. Carnes?”

“Not a dime.”

“Surely—” When he shook his head, she nodded. “So be it.” Pushing her chair back, she stood erect. “If you would like more coffee . . . ?”

When they all stood, Mrs. Benson turned to Signe. “Are your boys, especially Leif, nearby?”

“I heard wood being chopped, so I know he is here.”

“I have something for him, for all of them.” She looked to Mr. Benson, who headed out the door.

“What?” Signe asked.

“Please, I want to give them this. I hope it will be all right. Let’s go outside.”

Mr. Benson lifted a basket from the rear of the buggy. A small whine gave away the occupant. He called Leif over and handed the basket to him. “We heard you’ve been wanting one of these.”

Knute skidded around the corner of the house and joined them. He stared at the basket. “What is it?”

Wearing a face-splitting grin, Leif set the basket down, opened the bouncing lid, and lifted out a white puppy with brown and black spots. His eyes stretched even wider. Holding the puppy up, he stared at his far. “Really, can we keep him?”

“Ja, you now have a puppy. And one of these days he—or is it a she?” Rune looked to Mr. Benson.

“A he.”

Leif cuddled the puppy, which squirmed to lick his entire face at once, as well as under his chin. “We have a puppy, we really have a puppy. Thank you!” He nodded to Mr. Benson. “Thank you. I promise to take good care of him.”

“He needs a name.” Knute took the offered puppy and got his face cleaned too. Both boys giggled.

“Thank you, for all you have done.” Rune shook hands with all three men. “Beyond measure. Thank you.”

After they waved the guests off down the lane, Rune turned to Gerd. “See what you have now? Not only a farm but good friends. And more to come.”

“And right now, a heart of peace.” She shook her head slowly. “Whoever could have dreamed up anything like this?” She took the puppy Leif offered her and tried to keep it from licking her chin.

“Can you watch him while we do chores?” Leif asked.

Gerd’s lips twitched. “Ja, I think I can watch a puppy.”

“Good. Come on, Knute, let’s get at it.” Leif paused, giving the older boys a pleading look.

Bjorn and Ivar rolled their eyes. “Yes, we will help so we can get back to the new house quicker.” The four of them headed off to the well house to grab the milking pails, load the cream can in the wagon, and take them to the barn.

“I think we might just take the evening off.” Rune blew out his cheeks and tipped his head back to stretch out his neck. He then rolled his head from side to side. “Reverend Skarstead had no idea when he talked about hope on Sunday that all this would happen so immediately. And yet God did. You know, hope does not disappoint us. Our God is a God of hope. We hope for what we do not see.” He huffed a breath. “I’ve been thinking on that.”

Signe looked at her husband. “I was just hoping to see our house begun, and look how far it got.”

“Way beyond what you hoped for.” Rune nodded, eyebrows arching a question.

“For years I hoped and dreamed of coming to Amerika, and here I am.” Nilda looked out over the fields to the west, where the sun was sliding to the horizon. She raised her chin and closed her eyes to feel the first breath of an evening breeze. “Can you feel it?”

Signe and Rune copied her, nodding. Rune whispered, “A breath with the dawn and another in the settling of the day.”

“Surely today, this that we feel, is the breath of hope. Hope for tomorrow and all the days after. Hope that comes in spite of sorrow.” Signe looked at Gerd, who was now sitting with the puppy in her apron. “Hope for new beginnings?”

“Ja, and I have one right here. Never thought I’d have a dog again, but here he is. Ouch, sharp teeth.”

Nilda locked her arms around one knee and rocked back against the step above. “I always dreamed of having a baby girl to name Hope, and another Grace. I love those names, those words. You said ‘breath of hope,’ Signe. We need to make a sign out of that and put it above the door at your new house, to remind us all, every day.”

“And one here too. I thought I had no hope at all, and now look.” Gerd nodded slowly, as if imprinting the words on her heart. “Makes a lovely name for a little girl, and when she grows up too.” She smiled and nodded at Nilda. “Perhaps you better hope for a good husband first.”

“Tante Gerd!”

Their chuckles lifted on the evening breeze and swirled heavenward.