A Promise for Ellie Read online

Page 4


  “It isn’t like we are saying to wait forever—only two, three months or so. They have their whole lives ahead of them.”

  Ingeborg set her brush on the washstand and brought her hair over one shoulder to braid it loosely for the night.

  “Leave it down.”

  His request tickled the hairs on the back of her neck. She knew what he was asking, and yet the thought made her sigh. She should be glad he still cared for her in that way. When had she first yearned to put off her husband’s advances? Most likely at the same time she stepped into being contrary. She wished she’d trapped that loud sigh before she blew out the lamp and crawled into bed. Sometimes loving him more than herself took extra effort.

  Later, when he’d turned over and his breathing deepened into sleep, she lay there watching the moonlight paint designs on the floor. You should be grateful, a small voice nagged.

  Should be grateful and were grateful were two different things and never more obvious than right now. What would Andrew say when his far asked him to put off the wedding? “Uff da,” she muttered to herself. She had meant to bring up the subject of leaving more fields for pasture and hay, but she’d forgotten. Or did she just not want to get into another argument? It seemed they’d been gnawing at this bone of contention for years instead of only months.

  “YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?” Andrew stood with his mouth agape.

  Haakan raised a hand. “Now take it easy. Let’s talk about this.”

  “Whatever gave you any idea I’d even consider such a thing?” Andrew fought to keep his voice at a low pitch. Long ago he’d learned that shouting never did anyone much good. So having to work to lower his voice caught him by surprise—nearly as much as his father’s words had. He looked deep into Haakan’s eyes, searching for he knew not what. “Pa, you know I’ve been planning to marry Ellie as soon as we were out of school ever since I was in short pants. Seems I’ve waited long enough.”

  “I know, Andrew, I know. But perhaps your house not coming on schedule is God’s way of telling you to wait.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know why, and I’ve never doubted a day in my life that you and Ellie were meant for each other. But . . .” Haakan, his Bjorklund eyes clouded like the sky above, stared into the distance, as if he too were seeking answers.

  “Pa, I’ve done what you said all my life. I’ve tried to be a son you can be proud of.”

  “And I am, Andrew. I am so proud of you I sing your praises to the sky. I thank our God for giving me sons like you and Thorliff. Especially you, Andrew. You love this farm and this land the same way I do—I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

  Andrew stared out over the land as he scuffed a chunk of black soil with the toe of his boot. Haakan was never one to throw words away. If he said something was so, it was so. But everything within Andrew screamed at the injustice of this request. For he understood it was a request or a suggestion, not an order. “I have waited so long.”

  “Look at it this way. We’ll have the summer to get your house up, and then between haying and harvest, we can have a barn raising. A month or two, three at the most. Ellie could stay here in Blessing, work for Penny at the store. Astrid wants to help Elizabeth, so she won’t have time to help Penny. Andrew, your mor and I, we just ask you to think about this, to pray about it.”

  “And if I say no?” A quick kick shattered the clod.

  “I’d hope you’d talk this over with Ellie first. Make this decision together.”

  “And if we decide to go ahead?”

  “Then we’ll have the wedding near the end of June just like you planned.”

  “You won’t be mad?”

  “Sad, perhaps, and maybe disappointed. But mad? No, son, I won’t be mad.”

  “And Mor?” Andrew glanced out of the side of his eye.

  “You’ll have to ask her. This was a surprise to her too. Like it was for me.”

  Andrew clamped his teeth together. His jaw ached from the fight against saying more. “I better get the cows up.” He whistled for the dog and headed for the barn. While some of the twenty-five head of milk cows would be lined up at the door, there were still those stubborn ones that had to be rounded up. That’s what a good cow dog was for. It saved a man a lot of tramping through the grass.

  Although right now, stomping through the grass might have done him some good. How could they ask this of him? It wasn’t as if this wedding was a recent thought. All the chaste kisses when his body screamed to hold her close, when he hated to say good-night, when he thought if he had to write one more letter rather than getting on the train and going to fetch her home . . . His heart had nearly shattered when Onkel Olaf, Ellie’s adoptive father, decided to move his woodworking shop farther away from the flooding river. Soaking in dirty river water was pretty detrimental to the hardwoods he used for building good furniture. Not that the floods weren’t hard on everyone, but Onkel wasn’t locked onto the land like the rest of them and so could wisely move.

  Mor had reminded him to be grateful that Ellie wasn’t days away, like on the East Coast or the Pacific, where his cousin Hamre now lived. The train made the distance to Grafton in little more than an hour, but it felt like more. Through her tears, Ellie had said that they would get to know each other on a deeper level through letters, because when she was with him, her mind seemed to go off and flit with the clouds or some such. Then they’d laughed together.

  Ah, it was so easy to laugh with his Ellie.

  One by one he dropped the short boards in the stanchions to close the board against the cow’s neck, keeping her from backing up and leaving the barn before she was milked. When the final three came in, thanks to the dog, he poured a scoop of feed in front of each cow, talking to them as he moved down the line.

  “Hey, Andrew,” Trygve, Kaaren’s oldest son, called as he strolled into the barn swinging a metal milking pail in each hand. “You want me to bring over the milk cans?”

  “Please, and don’t forget the buckets of soapy water.”

  “I won’t.” He left, whistling as usual. One always knew when Trygve was coming. Mor said he could outwhistle the birds, and often one would think a bird was singing when, in reality, it was Trygve.

  Right now Andrew knew he would give anything to be as carefree as Trygve, sure he would work along with the men, no longer left to weed the garden or help however his mor required. Trygve’s younger brother, Sam, had taken on those chores. The whole family called him Little Sam, as if the two words were hitched together. Old Sam Lincoln ran the blacksmith shop for Hjelmer.

  Just the thought of bringing this idea of postponing the wedding up to Ellie made his stomach do flip-flops. How could they ask this of him? But they never ask anything of you, a little voice in his heart said. At least nothing like this. There has to be a good reason.

  But even Haakan didn’t know the reason, just said it was a feeling he had. And Mor even agreed.

  As soon as Trygve returned with the buckets of soapy water, Andrew washed down the udder of the cow he was about to milk and set his stool in place. With his forehead planted in the cow’s warm flank and the milk pinging into the bucket, he could let his mind roam. Cow milking time was always good thinking time. He’d daydreamed many a milking hour about the life he and Ellie would have once they were married.

  But it’s only three months or so. Surely ninety days isn’t going to make a difference in all the years we will have together. He recognized his reasonable side. But when he realized his jaws were clamped, he knew this went beyond reasonable. I will not get angry over this, he promised himself. Look at all the wood I’ve split because I got angry.It’s just not worth it. Besides, chopping wood for my own house will be a time of pleasure. His mind took off on another daydream—Ellie’s smiling face as she served him a cup of coffee at their own table. Of planting roses by their front porch, apple trees, and their own garden. Of reading by the lamplight on a winter evening. Ellie had such a sweet voice and loved to read aloud. He wou
ld lie on the sofa with his head in her lap, and—He cut off that picture when he could feel his neck heating up.

  Andrew stood at the train station waiting for Ellie and her family to arrive that afternoon. He wore clean shirt and pants, his boots were polished, and he’d brushed his straw hat the night before after the haircut. Mor always gave him a good haircut. While many of the men went to the new barber in town, he could see no sense in wasting his money on that when his mor cut hair for free. Did Ellie know how to cut a man’s hair? Of course she did. Ellie could do anything.

  The train whistled in the distance, as if announcing it was bringing him a gift. Nothing sounded more lonesome than that train whistle across the prairie on a cold winter morning, but not today. Each clack of the wheels brought her closer.

  His feet refused to stand still, so he paced and willed the train to come faster.

  “Hey, Andrew, could you come help me a minute?” Penny called from the front of her store.

  Andrew stared from the train to the store and back to the train. “I . . . ah . . . of course.” He started toward the store, dogtrotting so he could get back quickly.

  But Penny laughed and hollered back, “No, Andrew, I was teasing you. I know you’re waiting for Ellie.” She waved again and returned inside.

  Andrew grinned and shook his head. Leave it to Penny to tease me like that.

  The train slowed, the brakes screaming and the steam billowing. The engineer pulled the whistle again, announcing to all the world that the eastbound Northern Pacific had arrived.

  The engine passed, the tender loaded with coal, the mail car with a man waving from the open door, and finally the passenger cars. Shrieking and squealing, the brakes stopped the train with the door right in the center of the platform. The conductor stepped down, reached back in to fetch his stool, and set it in place.

  Onkel Olaf came first, carrying Arne. Then he turned and handed Mrs. Wold down. Rachel, the young cousin, followed Goodie and took Arne’s hand as soon as his pa set him on the platform.

  Andrew greeted them all, but his boot soles nearly wore a hole in the wooden planks. Finally, there she stood on the bottom step, her smile dimming the sun, even when shaded by a broad-brimmed leghorn hat, decorated by a wide blue ribbon with streamers down her back. He noticed everything about her, cataloging them instantly, paying attention especially to her smile and the love shining from her wide gray eyes. Her cheeks turned pink, and she waved a whitegloved hand.

  As soon as her black-slippered feet touched the platform, she flew into his arms, then grabbed her hat as he whirled her around.

  “Andrew, that is not seemly.” But her smile said she loved every minute of their embrace.

  He sighed as he set her down, staring deep into her eyes, his slow smile making both their hearts speed up. “I was beginning to think you’d never get here.”

  “Why, you knew what time the train would arrive.” She stepped back and locked her arm through his.

  Ever practical, his Ellie. He covered her hand with his own. “I better help them get the bags.”

  “No. Pa will take care of that. He has help. Come, Ma, Andrew has the wagon waiting over there.”

  Rachel took her cousin’s other hand and grinned up at Andrew. “Ellie changed her dress three times before she could make up her mind what to wear.”

  “Hush.” Ellie ducked her head. “You shouldn’t tell family secrets like that.”

  “Oh, really? She sure looks pretty, don’t you think?” Andrew grinned at Rachel.

  “Ellie always looks pretty. Even when she has her hair tied up in a towel after she washes it. Like yesterday.”

  “Rachel, that’s enough.” As if trying to hide the blush that bloomed on her face, Ellie put her hands to her cheeks.

  “Well, you said—”

  This time Ellie clamped a gloved hand over her cousin’s mouth. “I don’t care what I said.”

  Andrew’s laugh drowned out the conductor’s “All aboard.” The train whistle blew as Andrew handed Ellie up into the wagon and climbed up to sit beside her, Onkel Olaf taking the outside seat.

  “Ma, would it be better if you sat up here?” Ellie turned to look at her mother, who was sitting with Arne in the back of the wagon. In the turning, her broad hat brim bumped Andrew’s hat forward onto his face. With a quick grab he kept his straw hat from blowing off and tumbling into the dirt.

  “Sorry.”

  “That thing is a menace.” He chuckled to see her cheeks flaming again and not from the sun either. “But you look so pretty in it that I’ll forgive you.” He whispered the words for her ears alone but knew by the snicker from the rear that others besides hers had heard.

  And Far is asking me to wait when I can never have a moment alone with her as it is. The thought clamped his jaw, and he backed the team instead of letting his mind dwell on the request.When would he even have a chance to ask her?

  In spite of his good intentions, Ellie knew something was wrong. He could tell by the way she watched him and had managed to brush her shoulder against his when she’d turned to admonish Rachel.

  “Has our house arrived?” She looked up at him.

  He shook his head. “No, we got a letter saying there was a delay. It should come in the next two weeks.” He flicked the reins for the horses to pick up their trot. Don’t ask me any more. He stared straight ahead. Things were not going the way he’d planned, that was for sure. Mor had reminded him that God’s plans weren’t always the same as our plans. Who wanted to hear such a thing as that right now?

  “It’ll be all right,” Ellie said as she patted his arm.

  “Ja.” He nodded. If only he could skip all this and enjoy graduation and getting ready for their wedding.

  He stopped the team by the gate in the picket fence that now surrounded the front yard and kept any stray cattle out of his mother’s flower gardens. She’d already rooted starts of the rosebushes for them to plant by their new house. Everything was ready but the house.

  “Goodie, Olaf, how good to see you.” Ingeborg flew down the steps and across the yard. “Come in, come in. Supper is nearly ready. You’ve just enough time to wash up. Andrew, help carry their things inside.” She and Goodie hugged each other like long-lost sisters, which they’d nearly become in the years they’d worked so closely together, both on the farm and at the cheese house.When theWolds moved to Grafton, the split had been hard for everyone.

  Ingeborg locked her arm through Goodie’s, and together they walked into the house. Olaf handed the boxes out to his soon-to-be son-in-law. Andrew led the way to the bedroom he and Thorliff had once shared.While Ellie’s parents and Arne would take over Andrew’s room, Ellie and Rachel would room with Astrid. Having company had been easier before the flood took out the soddy. Any time they referred to the flood, they meant the horrendous one of 1897. People referred to that one as the hundred-year flood, and they all hoped and prayed another would wait that long but preferably never happen again.

  All the soddies in the area had been destroyed, the dirt walls melting away with the force of the water. But while loss of livestock and buildings had been high, no one had died during the flood, which was a miracle in itself.

  As soon as Andrew unloaded the wagon, he drove the team to the barn and removed the harnesses. Off to the west he could see Haakan coming in from the fields, walking behind the team he’d unhitched from the seeder.

  To the north he saw Astrid come running across the small pasture, as they called the fenced-in plot between their house and Tante Kaaren and Lars’s house. Three years younger than he, Astrid seemed not nearly as grown up as his Ellie, although he had noticed that some of the young men around Blessing had come to visit more often than before. While they said they came to see him, he knew Astrid and Tante Kaaren’s twins were the reason they came. Astrid would say they came because Sophie was such a flirt.

  Andrew hung up the harnesses and let the horses loose in the corral to cool off before he released them into the pasture,
where the water trough waited.

  “Gettin’ warm,” Haakan said, stopping the team in the shade of the barn. “Want to help me here?” He lifted his hat to wipe his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm.

  Andrew set about removing harnesses again, not purposely ignoring his father but not having much to say either. He draped the harness across the pegs on the outside of the barn wall, hung up the collar, and took off the bridle. When Haakan finished doing the same, Andrew led the two horses over to the corral and released them. Sliding the bars back in place, he sighed before heading for the house. This surely was the hardest thing anyone had asked of him. When could he talk it over with Ellie?

  “ELLIE, WE HAVE TO TALK.” Andrew got up from the swing on the porch and began pacing.

  Ellie watched his face. From the moment she’d gotten off the train, she’d known something was wrong. But Andrew would tell her in good time if it was something to do with the two of them. He’d always been that way. If the tales she’d heard of his uncle were true, Hjelmer had been a master poker player. Andrew had not inherited those skills, especially not a poker face. Perhaps she just knew him better than anyone else. She’d given everything about Andrew Bjorklund plenty of thought. He’d been her best friend from the day she woke up after being terribly sick to find him sitting in the chair by the bed, watching her. He got her anything she wanted and told her stories about the animals on the farm to entertain her. By the time she was well again, they were inseparable. And had been ever since.

  She promised herself then that she would never be parted from Andrew again, but she’d had no control over the move to Grafton. And now something was seriously wrong. Fear gnawed like a rat in the grain bin.

  She watched him pace the length of the porch and back again. “Just tell me what it is before you wear out the floorboards.” She kept her voice calm while her insides screamed and her fingers creased the folds of her skirt.