Chapter
8

Be sure to tell Mrs. Benson that I need more yarn,” Gerd said as the boys headed out the door for school the next morning.

“I will!” Leif called over his shoulder.

As soon as they’d had breakfast, Signe set to sweeping the kitchen while Gerd washed the dishes. When things were put to rights, Kirstin nursed, and the coffeepot on, Signe sat down to finish a letter home for Mrs. Benson to take back with her.

We are so looking forward to Nilda and Ivar coming. Today is a beautiful day, but Einar said this morning that he thinks we are in for another blizzard soon. Gerd says he is right about the weather more often than not. Here it is, March, and I am already longing for spring. Kirstin is gumming everything, so I think she may be teething soon. I gave her a piece of bacon rind to chew on before she gnawed my knuckle off. That keeps her happy for quite a while.

Tante Gerd still needs occasional rests, but she is so much better, it is hard to believe. We all have scarves, hats, and mittens thanks to her knitting. We have rabbit skins to make outer mittens, so we are learning to do that. Bjorn is a good hole puncher with an awl they finally found in Einar’s shop.

Rune bought wood to make skis, and they will plane those in the evening. They all like working down in the shop. Knute and Leif would be there more, but they have homework for school almost every night. Their English is getting very good, and they are teaching their mor. Gerd helps me too. Tell Nilda and Ivar the most important thing they can do is learn to speak and read English before they come. Their lives here will be much easier that way.

I hear a harness jingling. Mrs. Benson is coming, so I will say good-bye for now. We treasure your letters.

Your daughter,

Signe

She quickly folded the pages and slid them into an envelope. How she desired to see her family again. Writing should make the sadness go away, but it did not, not really. She grabbed her coat and headed for the back door to greet their visitor. The front door was all snowed in.

“Come in, come in. I will take your horse to the barn.”

“No, no. With no wind, we’ll blanket him and leave him here. I need to get back to the store soon, since Mr. Benson has to deliver orders later.” Mrs. Benson smiled at Signe. “You see, that is what I am doing too, delivering yarn, and I am sure there are some other things in the sleigh. Isn’t this a beautiful day? I think the icicles are even dripping on the south sides of roofs.”

Together they settled the heavy horse blanket over the horse and retrieved a basket and packages from the back.

As they mounted the porch steps, Mrs. Benson said, “You have the nicest boys. You should be very proud of them.”

Signe stared at her visitor while she opened the door. “I—ah—takk.” She wondered what they had done to have earned such a compliment. “Let me take your coat.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Strand,” Mrs. Benson said as she walked into the kitchen. “How are you this fine morning?”

“Better. Sit down, sit down.” Gerd pulled out a chair. “The coffee is nearly ready.”

Setting her basket on the table, Mrs. Benson looked around. “Where is that baby girl of yours? You know that’s who I really came to see.”

“She is sleeping, but knowing her, she will be awake soon. She already doesn’t like to miss anything.” Signe glanced over to the cradle Rune had made for the downstairs. He had built another for upstairs, where the whole family slept. Wrapped in her blanket, Kirstin lay on her belly, one fist against her mouth.

Mrs. Benson handed Gerd a brown paper package of yarn the size of a soup kettle. Maybe even bigger. “This should last you awhile. For a change, I was able to buy two-ply in a soft yellow. I thought you might like to knit a dress for the little miss and perhaps a bonnet. But if you don’t want it, I am sure I can sell it to someone else.”

Gerd opened the package carefully, to save the paper, and fingered the soft fine yarn. “Oh, how lovely.” She lifted a skein. “Won’t this be perfect?” She held it out for Signe to see. “I have never knit anything so fine. Good thing I have my bestemor’s wide collection of knitting needles. The ones I use for socks might work for this.”

Signe gazed at Gerd’s face in wonder. Soft to match the way she sometimes looked at Kirstin. She swallowed and took a deep breath. For this, God had brought her to this house and these people. She caught the look of delight Mrs. Benson sent her way and smiled back with a slight nod.

“I brought this for you.” Mrs. Benson handed Signe a jar of honey.

“Tusen takk, we just used up the last. We can have that on the biscuits with our coffee.” Signe made a face. “I almost forgot them.”

The biscuits were a bit more brown than usual, but when she set the pan on the table, the fragrance invited them to pour the coffee. Signe glanced over when she heard her baby squirming and starting to wake.

“She likes the smell of coffee, I think.” Gerd picked up the baby, who snuggled into her shoulder.

Mrs. Benson and Signe exchanged a smile. Gerd might not have been a mother, but she sure knew how to cuddle a baby.

“True Norwegian, the smell of coffee wakes her up.” Mrs. Benson raised her cup as Signe reached her to pour coffee. “And no, nothing in it, black is best.” She spread honey on her biscuit and passed back the jar. Signe sat down with her daughter on her lap, handed her the bacon rind, and ate with her free hand. “Your bees certainly produce good honey,” she said.

“Mr. Benson considered no longer keeping the hives going, and there was such an outcry from our customers that he changed his mind and built two more hives, so when the queens decide to go looking for new quarters, they can move right in.” Mrs. Benson dabbed at the honey that dripped on her plate. “That other package is baby clothes Mrs. Engelbrett sent for Kirstin, so she has some to grow into. She has been keeping these clothes in case she had another girl, but she thought you could use them in the meantime. She said she hoped you would come join our sewing circle when the weather lets up.”

“I hope we both can come when spring breaks through.” Signe bounced her knees gently as Kirstin fussed a bit. “I need to feed this one, so excuse me.”

“Can you not nurse her where you are?”

“Ja, but . . .”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. As far as I can see, we are all women here. Go ahead.”

With Kirstin content again, Signe finished her coffee. “We are about out of jam, I’m sorry to say. Do you know anyone who has strawberry or raspberry bushes we can buy?”

“Not for sale, but we share such things, all us women. If you don’t mind, I’ll ask when we have our next meeting.” She looked to Gerd. “I hope you will come too, Mrs. Strand.”

“We’ll see.”

Signe knew a smile did not stay down where she was trying to stuff it. We’ll see was a far cry from an adamant no. “I have a question, Mrs. Benson. We want to have Kirstin baptized. Is there a process we need to know?”

“Just talk to Reverend Skarstead. I know he has been wanting to come out here.”

Signe glanced at Gerd, whose shoulders hinted at a shrug. “It might be best if we talk with him after church on Sunday.”

“Did you know that he preaches at All Saints in Blackduck every Sunday afternoon?’

“No, I didn’t. His Sundays are really full then, aren’t they?”

“Ja, but he says some pastors have three-point parishes. Two is hard, so three would be really difficult. Of course, he says at least he doesn’t have to write two sermons for every Sunday.” She glanced up at the clock. “Oh my, how the time flies. I need to get back to the store. Thank you so much for the visit. Can I hold that baby for just a minute?”

“Of course.” Signe brought Kirstin around the table and handed her to their guest.

“Oh, you are just the dearest thing, such a sweet baby.”

Kirstin stared at Mrs. Benson, wrinkled her forehead, and whimpered before shifting into full-blown crying.

“I’m afraid she is not used to very many people.” Signe took her baby back and, swaying, shushed her with a gentle voice.

Mrs. Benson pushed back her chair. “I’ll have to make sure she does not think me a stranger.” She dropped a kiss on the baby’s forehead as she made her way around the table. “Thank you, and I hope to see you again on Sunday. We are having a get-together meal after church, and I hope you can stay for that. You would be our guests, so please do not bring anything but your appetites.”

“We’ll see.” Signe tried to smile.

“It would be a great way to meet more of our members.” Mrs. Benson reached for her coat.

After she left, Signe refilled the firebox and put the remaining biscuits in a tin to keep them fresh. “Are you hungry?”

Gerd picked up her knitting, shaking her head. “Not really. Can we wait a bit?”

“Of course. I thought we might have fried cheese sandwiches.” The last of the leftovers from the night before had gone to the woods with the men.

Snow had started to fall by the time the boys rode into the lane.

“Your turn to put the horse away,” Knute told his brother from the porch stairs.

“I know.”

Knute scraped off his boots and pushed open the door. “Getting colder.”

Gerd looked up from her knitting. “The wind does that.”

“Can we have something to eat before we start chores?”

“Ja, there are biscuits in the tin, or you could have bread and butter.”

“With sugar?”

“Fix some for Leif too.” Signe took the last of the diapers from the line and finished folding them. “Skim the milk pans so you have milk for the pigs and chickens.”

“There is soured milk in the cans and plenty of cream to churn.”

“Good. We sent the last of the butter with Mrs. Benson.”

“I’m going to check my snares too.” Knute sat down at the table with his bread and a glass of milk from the pantry. “I think we need a dog.”

“Whatever brought that up?”

“We had to write a paper today about dogs, and we don’t have one. So I wrote about our one in Norway, but it made me realize how much I want to have a dog again.”

“We have two cats.”

“They can’t go along to check the snares or fishing or hunting or anything.”

“Where would you get a dog?” Gerd asked. “We used to have one.”

Leif blew in, stomping his feet on the rug. “We better get on those chores fast. Good thing we didn’t let the cows out this morning. Onkel Einar was right. A blizzard is coming.” He grabbed his bread and ate it standing in front of the stove.

“I’ll go skim the milk pans so you can get to the animals.” Signe reached for her coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck. “You want anything from the well house?” she asked Gerd.

“Just the cream for the churn. Let it warm, and I can churn in the morning.”

The wind fought to tear off Signe’s hat and drive the cold into her bones. Closing the door of the well house behind her, she paused to catch her breath before lighting the lantern on a hook on the wall. After skimming the cream into a crock, she poured the milk into one of the milk cans, filling a jug for the house. Knute had taken the full one down to the barn. They really needed more milk cans, especially now that the heifer had freshened. With a bucket of cream in one hand and the milk jug in the other, she stepped back outside and made sure the latch fell into place on the door. She looked toward the barn, hoping the men were already back, but she couldn’t see through the blowing snow.

By the time she made it to the house, she had to stagger up the steps and stand there a moment, trying to catch her breath. Dark hovered overhead, making her glad to see the lamps lit and set in the windows, promising warmth within.

Concern had begun to gnaw on her insides before she finally heard the stamping of boots on the porch and the men filed in, brushing snow off their hats and coats as they came.

“Good thing we started back when we did,” Rune said by way of greeting. “Almost hated to leave the quiet of the barn and fight the wind up to the house.” He rubbed his hands over the heat of the stove.

“No frostbite?” Gerd stared at Einar, who huddled over the stove with the others.

“Nei, but this might turn into a bad one,” he grunted.

Rune inhaled. “Sure smells good in here. If it keeps on, there won’t be any school for you boys, so we can work in the shop all day.” He shot Einar a questioning look.

“Supper is ready,” Signe said. “Wash, and we can eat.”

Every time the howling wind woke him during the night, Rune gave thanks for the sturdy house and his family sleeping around him. He went downstairs and stoked the stove several times, and each time the storm seemed to have gathered new energy for another onslaught.

It was hard to tell when morning came with the storm still raging. The parlor windows were blocked by snow drifts, and all the windowpanes in the house wore delicate designs of frost. Only the kitchen had clear glass at the top.

“We will get the animals taken care of, then breakfast before we head to the wood shop,” Rune instructed. “Einar?”

“Harness needs some repairs. That mower’s not done yet.” He glared at Leif, whom he blamed for the cut on his hand he had received from the mower, which had laid him low for a time.

Rune shook his head. Accidents happened, and most were not intentional. As if Leif would want to hurt anyone. “Bjorn, you can help by sharpening the blades, if you like.”

Einar muttered something and raised his cup for Gerd to refill.

“Hang on to the rope,” Rune ordered as they stepped off the porch and into the icy teeth of the storm. Earlier that winter, they had strung a rope from the house to the barn to keep anyone from getting lost in this kind of weather.

It took Einar and Rune together to pull the barn door open as the boys kicked the snow away. Inside, the barn seemed a haven of peace and quiet. One of the horses nickered, and the rooster crowed from the chicken house.

Rune made his way to the shop, lit a lamp, and started a fire in the stove. He set a bucket of snow on top to melt. The water barrel in the barn had frozen over. He set two more snow-filled buckets by the fire. The animals all needed water. The only pump not frozen was the one in the house.

“Wish you all could stay in the house,” Signe said as the men and boys bundled up to head back out after breakfast.

“Me too, but don’t worry about us. The shop will not be warm, but it will be tolerable, since we’ll all be working. What’s for dinner?”

“I brought up that ham hock and set beans to soaking last night. I thought ham and beans would be warming.”

“And fried bread?” Leif grinned at his mor before he pulled his scarf up over his lower face.

“Ja. It should be ready for that. We’ll have fried rabbit for supper, thanks to Knute.”

“You two fill that woodbox before you come down,” Rune told the younger boys. “I’ve got buckets of snow melting in the shop. Can you melt some here too?” he asked Signe.

“Of course. Bring me in a washtub of snow.”

By noon, all the animals and chickens had been watered, and more buckets of snow were melting for later. Between Bjorn at the grinding wheel and the wind trying to collapse the building, sitting down for dinner felt like a reprieve for their ears.

Corn bread, ham, and beans with fried bread and bowls of syrup had everyone in a good mood.

Except for the baby, who woke from her nap crying and hot enough to melt a bucket of snow.