From This Day Forward Read online

  Emmy said that wild dogs hunted the way coyotes did. Coyotes hunted at night, or at least dusk. But those dogs were out hunting in the afternoon. Dogs with rabies hunted at midday. If rabies was in the area, no one’s dog was safe, not even Patches. What if a pack of feral dogs was not the worst of it?

  On the outside, Ingeborg tried to appear calm for Freda’s sake.

  On the inside, she was trembling.

  Chapter 4

  I think we need a girl party,” Deborah surprised herself by saying to Sophie one Sunday after church.

  “I think you are very right. What shift are you working?” Sophie half closed her eyes to think better. “Like next Saturday?”

  “I have the weekend off.”

  “Then I’ll set it in motion. We are long overdue for a meeting.” She studied Deborah. “Any special reason?”

  Deborah half shrugged, then rolled her lips together. “Can we talk then?”

  “Of course. Just us oldies, or should we include some newbies like Miriam? Astrid, of course, will be on call . . .”

  “But we don’t call her anymore unless we can’t handle the case. I would like to include Miriam.”

  “Good. And remember, at our girl party, confession is not only good for the soul but mandatory.” Sophie chuckled. “Besides, I think we’re no longer girls. Our children are girls. I’ll tell the others, and as always, bring whatever you want for food. I’ll banish my tribe to their aunt’s house for the night. Remember when we all used to spend the whole night together?”

  They shared a smile.

  “We have so many good memories.” Deborah waved good-bye to Sophie and walked out of the church.

  Where was Toby? By habit she looked around for him, the way she always did after church. He was over there among a knot of young men, talking. Gerald said something and they all laughed. Just like always.

  She was about to head home when she stopped. Offering. Did she drop it in the plate? Or . . . she was helping little Swen find the penny he had dropped, and the offering plate had gone right on by. She groped around in her reticule. Yes, there it was. What an oaf, Deborah. Why can’t you remember? She carried her tithe back inside.

  She didn’t think she was mooning about husbands, but Toby had passed through her mind. He had sat practically right across the aisle from her, yet he had not spoken. He had smiled and waved, but that was all. Surely if he were even halfway interested in her the way she was interested in him, he would have stopped and talked to her after the service.

  The collection bag had not been taken to the back room yet. She tucked her offering inside it and went back outside.

  “Deborah? Deborah! There you are.” Toby! He came running over to her, and her heart soared. There was hope!

  “Good morning, Toby!” Oh my, he looked handsome today.

  “May I walk you home?”

  “Please do.” Her heart was now soaring somewhere beyond the clouds.

  “I have a favor to ask of you.”

  Her heart thudded to earth. Oh. Here she thought he was interested in her, and all he wanted was some favor. “What do you need?”

  “Well, you know the guys who are planning the Fourth—we were thinking we should invite the well drillers to come in for it—all of them, not just the ones who live here—and the fire brigades from up north who helped us last year. They probably won’t come, of course; they have their own Fourth of July celebrations. But it would be a nice gesture, and we’ll have plenty of food.”

  “I heard. Beef and pork.”

  “Right. So we were thinking, maybe you could help us out by writing all the invitations.”

  “Writing the . . . wait. You guys, as you say, came up with the idea. Why don’t you write them?”

  “Well, we all have jobs that take a lot of time. But the hospital isn’t very busy right now, so we thought that since you’re just sitting there . . .” He paused because she had stopped walking and had turned to stare at him. Probably she was glaring at him, but she didn’t care.

  Just sitting there? She hardly had a spare moment at work, and they thought she just sat there? Besides, this wasn’t a favor to Toby after all, it was a favor to all the men. He was just the one who’d asked her.

  “Why are you asking me? Why not Pa, I mean Pastor Solberg, since we live in the same house?”

  “Well, uh, the pastor thought I might be a good one to do it, since you seem to . . . uh . . .” He licked his lips, opened his mouth, and closed it again.

  Her thoughts and feelings all churned up together, and she couldn’t sort any of them. She kept her voice flat and modulated. “Thank you very much for walking me this far. I can find my way home the rest of the way.” She turned on her heel and started walking. Of all the emotions fighting in her head, fury burned brightest.

  Just sitting there indeed!

  But then he called to her departing back, “Besides, I kind of like you!”

  The days crawled by, and that was not like Deborah’s usual week at all. What had Toby meant? How did he feel, really? She couldn’t tell. Just when she thought he cared nothing for her, something suggested otherwise. She needed the advice and support of her girlfriends more than ever.

  When Ingeborg had once asked her what she wanted most in life, Deborah’s first thought had been, to be married to Toby Valders. Now here it was, so many years later, and Toby was still the only man she thought of.

  In a way, she sleepwalked through her duties at the hospital and at home, keeping one part of her mind on the task of the moment and the other part in that now-familiar churning mix of emotions. But confusion plagued her the worst, especially now, as she walked home from her day shift at the hospital. What would her wisest form of action be? The girls had always depended on one another for counsel. She, Rebecca, Sophie, Grace, and Astrid, along with Anji, before she moved away to start her new life with Thomas. All of them born and raised in Blessing, except for her and Manda. And yet they were included as if they had always lived there too. In fact, most people had probably forgotten that she and Manda weren’t born there.

  She mounted the steps to the ranch house that long ago became home to the Solbergs and herself.

  “I’m home,” she called, walking through the front door.

  “Back here,” Mary Martha called from the back porch. “Iced tea is in the icebox. Come join us.”

  “I’ll change first.” She always left her nurse’s apron at the hospital, and now she changed out of her skirt and waist into a loose summer dress and left her nursing shoes in the closet, instead choosing to go barefoot. Nothing felt better than bare feet in the summer, especially in the morning with the dew on the grass. In the kitchen she poured herself a glass of tea and, taking a sip, wandered out to the back porch that extended about halfway down the north side of the house. The front porch extended the full length, and both had shingled roofs like the rest of the house.

  “Welcome home,” Mary Martha said with a smile. “We’re playing hooky.”

  “Hooky from what?”

  “From work. I decided to have cold things for supper, all of which are made. The garden is sort of weeded. We should be planting the pumpkins and other late crops, but we needed a breather.” She motioned to the four children, two sitting on the back step, playing cat’s cradle with red yarn, two leaning over the low table between two chairs.

  Johnny and Thomas looked up from the checkerboard. “I’m checker king today,” Thomas said, grinning, and held up three fingers.

  “He cheats,” seven-year-old Emily announced from the step. She passed the yarn to her older brother, Mark.

  “Do not. I don’t have to cheat.”

  Mary Martha rolled her eyes. “I don’t suggest you challenge him. I haven’t won a game with him since he was six.” He was fourteen now, which she could hardly believe. She motioned to the settee. “We saved that for you.”

  “Where’s Pa?” Deborah had taken to calling the Solbergs Ma and Pa not long after Manda and the others left.


  “Meeting with Thorliff and the others. Planning the Fourth of July celebration. Every year they make plans, and every year we do the same wonderful things. Other than that year we women tried to have the fireworks. As you know, the men have not forgotten the near miss and decided not to let us do the planning anymore.”

  “And that’s why it is already June and they are just starting?” Deborah asked with all innocence.

  Mary Martha laughed. “We’ll never tell. But we’ll take care of the food as always. I think they’ve agreed on half a steer barbecue again. I know someone mentioned that a hog would be good that way too.”

  “If I remember right, we didn’t have a lot of leftover beef last year. Do we have more people here now than last year?”

  “I’m not sure, but the children are growing and will eat more.” Mary Martha glanced across at her brood. “If these are any indication.”

  “Word has gotten out about how our celebration has such great food, so others might come too.” Deborah sipped from her glass and held the chilly surface to her cheek. It wasn’t unseasonably warm yet, but when the perpetual breeze died, like now, one felt the heat more. “I need to make something for the party at Sophie’s on Saturday. Any suggestions?”

  “We have lots of eggs; what about deviled eggs?”

  “Good, I’ll put them on to boil. Do we have any popcorn left?” Last summer they had grown a patch of the special kind of corn for popping, and after drying it, they had treats all winter.

  “We planted the last of it.”

  Johnny studied the checkerboard. “We planted twice as much this year.”

  “Good thing. We had such a fun time making popcorn balls last winter.” Emily grinned, then glanced down at her hand. “But that syrup burned some.”

  “They didn’t last long, that’s for sure.” Mary Martha smiled at her daughter. “Makes me hungry for one right now.”

  “So deviled eggs and . . . ?”

  “How about those crispy crackers you make? We can make a big bunch so we can have some too.” Mark abandoned the cat’s cradle game. “I’ll help roll and cut ’em.”

  Emily clapped her hands. “I’ll help eat ’em. Better make lots.”

  “You know those biscuit rolls you made with cinnamon and sugar, like cinnamon rolls? Those went over really well.” Mary Martha thought for a moment. “What if we put butter and grated cheese and some herbs on the flattened dough and rolled them up? That sounds really good.”

  “What if we made those for supper?” Deborah pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll get the stove going. Come on, Mark, you can measure out the flour and other ingredients.”

  “But . . .” Mary Martha shook her head. “Oh well. If the stove is hot, I’ll put coffee on too. John will appreciate a cup when he comes home.” She poked Thomas’s arm. “Come on, you can bring in a brick of cheese and grate it.”

  By the time the stove was hot enough, the cheese roll-ups were ready to bake, and they were rolling out cornmeal and flour dough thin enough for the crackers. Deborah had chopped parsley and chives very fine and added them to both kinds of dough. “Okay now, sprinkle on salt, lightly, and we’ll slide this pan in on the top rack.”

  “We have to taste them first, right?” The three younger children circled around the table while Deborah rolled out more. Johnny had picked up his guitar and was playing it in the next room.

  Mark frowned at the bowl. “We made lots of dough.”

  “I know, we might be baking them forever.” Thomas didn’t look a bit sad. “This is fun.”

  Just as Deborah was taking the eggs off the stove the barking dog announced that Pa was home. She would finish making them tomorrow.

  Emily ran to meet him at the door. “We’re baking crackers for Deborah to take to her party and we get to keep some too.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

  “Crackers? What about cookies or pie or a cake?”

  “Sorry, Ma said cold supper, but then Deborah came home and we’re baking cheese roll-ups and crackers. And now the kitchen is hot, but . . .” Emily paused and stared up at his face. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  John Solberg smiled down at her. “Me too. Is the coffee pot on?”

  “It is.” Emily leaned her cheek against his arm. “Ma said we could eat outside tonight.”

  Mary Martha met them at the doorway into the kitchen and kissed Pa on the cheek. “Welcome home. I tried for peaceful, but . . .” She motioned to the mess in the kitchen. “We are trying two new things.”

  Deborah pulled the first pan of cheese roll-ups out of the oven and set them on the cooling rack. “Just in time to try our new recipe.” She bent back down and pulled the first pan of crackers out too. “Recipes.”

  Emily pointed. “Look at the way the crackers curled up on the corners, like they are flying.” She danced around Deborah. “Try them, try them.”

  “You’re going to burn your fingers. Wait at least a couple of minutes.” Deborah slid the crackers onto a towel spread on the counter. “Mark, load this pan up again.”

  “You have a full bakery going here.” Pa accepted the coffee cup from his wife.

  “So, anything new for the Fourth of July?”

  He smiled. “A pie social to earn money for the new school building, the governor agreed to be our speaker, and we added wheelbarrow races to the games. We vetoed the fireworks again, but Sophie keeps trying.”

  “Beef or pork?”

  Pa chuckled. “Toby talked us into both this year. Says there are enough people around, we won’t have much left over.”

  Silently, Deborah mused, And Toby Valders is a pillar of the community, another characteristic in his favor.

  “Sounds like a good day,” Mary Martha said. “And did you put in the order for good weather?”

  “That we did.”

  “Ma, Mark snitched a cracker.” Emily glared at him.

  “Did not, it fell on the floor so I ate it.”

  “You knocked it on the floor.”

  “Did not.” Mark looked up at Deborah. “I didn’t. . . . Okay, I did, but not intentionally.”

  Deborah smiled at him.

  “An accident.” Emily shrugged and then nodded sagely. “But they are good. Can we have some now?”

  Mark jostled her. “You had yours.”

  “Did not. It was a broken one.”

  Deborah tipped the roll-up pan over to release the rolls. “These smell heavenly. We have to eat them warm, while the cheese is still melted.” She broke the rolls apart, and everyone helped themselves.

  Johnny took the first bite and shook his head. “They’re no good. You better not eat them.”

  “Why, so you can have them all?” Thomas asked.

  Johnny shrugged and grinned at Deborah.

  “Okay, only one.” Mary Martha set down her roll and reached for a cracker. “Good crunch. These are really good. You’ll need to put them in a tin with a tight lid to keep them crisp.”

  Deborah checked the two pans in the oven. “I think we need to poke them with a fork to help them lie flatter. Mark, do you have the other pan about ready? It’s a good thing we have so much help or these would take forever.”

  John snatched another roll. “Those crackers are good but these are superb. What do you call them?”

  “Cheesy roll-ups,” Deborah replied.

  “John, you and the little ones go out on the porch, and we’ll bring supper out. Although how anyone can have room for supper after all these treats is beyond me.”

  He frowned at the children. “Did you kids do your chores yet?”

  “I took care of the chickens.” Emily watched a tray of crackers come out of the oven.

  Johnny glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Not time to milk yet.”

  “Let’s eat right now, and then we’ll finish the chores.” Mary Martha headed for the icebox and began handing out things to be carried to the table. “Everyone dish up in here and take your plate outside.”

  That eveni
ng, after Deborah was all washed and sitting on her bed, propped against pillows with a breeze coming in the window, she added a few more lines to the journal she had kept ever since high school. Once she had gone back and read the whole thing. So many dreams and prayers about life with Toby Valders. Sometimes she had been so sure that would happen, and other times she wrote that she hated him because he’d gone off to work with the windmill crew and it didn’t look like he’d ever come back, or he had been interested in someone else. Sometimes she declared she was done dreaming over him and would just concentrate on being the best nurse possible. Once she’d written that perhaps she should go off and be a missionary in some far-off place where she would be too busy to dream of him.

  She shut her journal and tucked it under her Bible on her nightstand. She’d taken to writing in pencil so she could carry it with her more easily. Pens and inkpots were a real encumbrance if one were not seated at a desk or table.

  Dusk had not yet turned to full dark, but she needed to get to sleep. She had so many things to get done before going to the girls’ get-together. Did she really have the courage to confess this quandary of hers?

  Chapter 5

  Ingeborg held the phone’s black earpiece to her ear. “I’ll go along with you if you want.”

  “Mor, we have plenty of men to take care of this. Maybe I should ask Manny if he wants to join us.” Andrew sounded excited. “Now, you say this was your usual fishing spot?”

  “Ja, and the dogs came from upriver.”

  “Clever idea, throwing them the fish, but Carl is still grumbling that you threw good fish away.”

  Ingeborg chuckled. “He even held onto the can of worms. What a bunch of troopers we have.”

  “We have a couple of dead piglets we can use for bait. Tell Manny that if he wants to come, Lars and Samuel will meet the rest of us in the big barn at nine or so. No point in staking it out before dark.”

  Ingeborg remembered tales of hunters tying out a live sheep or calf to draw the predators that needed to be disposed of. “Takk for taking care of this.”