[Home To Blessing 01] - A Measure of Mercy Page 7

  “Jonathan always works hard. He convinced his father to let him go to school in Fargo, and that was a big accomplishment.” Her pride in him made Astrid grin.

  “Has he learned to sign well enough?”

  “To get by. You should sign with him this summer.”

  “I will. I hadn’t thought of that. You know, with you gone we don’t sign as much. One day when one of the deaf students came in, I was sure glad I knew how to do it. Dr. Elizabeth called for me immediately when she needed to tell him something to do.”

  “With all the new people coming into town, the school will need to offer classes to those who want to learn.” Grace’s speaking could not keep up with her signing. “If the deaf school grows like we are dreaming it will, there will be many more deaf people in the area. Mrs. Wooster, a benefactor from New York, says that families will move here to be by their loved ones. I know it happens that way where I am teaching.”

  Astrid watched Grace’s hands fly and thought about what she was saying. What if there were surgeries that could help restore hearing? Would Dr. Morganstein know about that? Dr. Elizabeth had told her of places that were specializing in different therapies. Was there one for ears and hearing?

  She felt him behind her before she heard his voice.

  “May I walk you home?” While Joshua spoke low and close to Astrid’s ear, the others stopped talking and grinned at her.

  “Of course you may,” Deborah answered for her with a wide smile. “Shame it is not farther.”

  Astrid could feel her face flaming. She glared at Deborah, which earned another burst of laughter from her friends. “I can speak for myself, you know.”

  “Well, go on, then. Answer him.”

  Even Grace was laughing. Having a choice between pouting and joining in the laughter, Astrid chose the latter. “Just wait. You’ll be the brunt of all this one day, and we’ll see how you feel.”

  “All right, what is going on over here?” Jonathan asked as he strolled up to those laughing.

  “Walking home. That’s what.” Astrid grabbed Grace’s hand. “You and Jonathan can come too.”

  “We can’t go yet. We have to lower the piano down to the wagon and drive it back to church. We need all available young men. The old ones said it was our turn.”

  “The old ones?” Haakan echoed from right behind Jonathan, who flinched and rolled his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Now it was his turn to be laughed at, and they all took him up on it.

  “We ‘old ones’ will show you young ones how to move a piano. Come along, both of you.”

  The girls watched and cheered as the piano was lowered down the ramp to the wagon, where the young men climbed aboard and headed for the church. There they would unload it and get it ready for the next morning’s service.

  The unmarried girls waved good-bye and walked home together, laughing and teasing as they headed to the Knutsons’ farm for the night.

  “I think that was one of the most fun barn dances we’ve had,” Deborah said later as they prepared for bed.

  “Gus will have a hard time living down that scene.”

  “How long before they’ll be married, do you think?” Grace signed.

  “If Maydell has any sense, she’ll tell us tomorrow that they’re getting married next week.” Grace and Astrid fell across the bed laughing.

  “You think so?” Deborah sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, brushing her hair.

  “I do. Before he changes his mind.” Astrid wiped a tear from Grace’s cheek.

  Giggling, the three tied ribbons around the ends of their night braids, blew out the lamp, and crawled under the sheet. A blanket lay folded across the bottom of the bed in case the night cooled down.

  In the quiet Astrid signed to Grace’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re home. I really missed you.”

  Grace curled up close like they did when little girls, only now without Sophie wiggling.

  “Me too,” she signed back. “Long talk tomorrow.”

  Maybe Grace could help her understand how not to miss Blessing if she went to Chicago. If she went. The ifs murmured her to sleep.

  Astrid woke to the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Onkel Lars had stayed late. She rolled over on her side, careful not to push Grace off the edge. Walking home with Mr. Landsverk would have been interesting, but was she ready for more complications in her life?

  * * *

  JOSHUA WAS WATING at the steps to the church when the Knutsons and their extra passengers drove up the next morning. The Bjorklunds arrived at about the same time. Joshua tipped his hat to Ingeborg in greeting and smiled at Astrid. “May I sit beside you in church?”

  “Ah . . .” She glanced at her mother, who nodded. “I guess so.” No man had ever asked to sit next to her like this. But when they shared a hymnbook and his full baritone harmonized with her alto, a thrill raced up and down her spine, then sparkled off her fingertips. Surely the entire congregation was singing better because of his voice.

  When it was time for the sermon, Pastor Solberg stepped forward and gestured to a man who was sitting in the chair next to him behind the pulpit. “Today I would like to introduce a missionary friend of mine, the reverend Ted Schuman, who is serving in Kenya, Africa. He will bring us not only the message for the day but a report on his mission there.”

  Astrid had trouble concentrating on the beginning of the sermon with the warmth of Joshua’s arm right next to hers. But the speaker caught her attention when he quoted Jesus’ words from John’s gospel: “ ‘Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest.’ ” He went on with a quote from Matthew: “ ‘The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few.’ ” After a pause where he looked around at all the faces in the congregation, he softened his voice. “The harvest is indeed ready, but the laborers are terribly few.” He continued with stories of his life in Africa, of the native people who had come to faith in spite of their old beliefs, and the witch doctors who fought to destroy the light the white man preached.

  He closed his sermon by saying, “If God is calling you to serve Him as a missionary in foreign lands, please hearken to His call. We so desperately need help, especially those with medical training.”

  His eyes seemed to bore right into her own. Astrid swallowed. Surely he didn’t mean her. She didn’t even want to go as far away as Chicago. He couldn’t mean me. Lord, is this really you?

  7

  Joshua felt a huge weight leave his shoulders as he sat next to Astrid in the service. She had not refused his slightly impertinent request to sit with her. Maybe his impulse to return to Blessing was right and not crazy, as he’d been wondering, although he’d been pretty sure of that when his heart about jumped out of his chest as soon as he saw her again. He tried to compare the young girl he’d tried to forget with this Astrid sitting beside him. I stayed away to give her time to grow up, and now I’m back and she didn’t seem to be troubled or irritated by my attention. Then suddenly she became distant, like in a trance.

  What happened? What was that speaker talking about? Africa. Joshua had tuned him out, conscious only of the girl next to him. His concern for her blotted out the remainder of the service. But even after the benediction she didn’t move until Joshua cleared his throat.

  “Miss Bjorklund?”

  Astrid blinked. She stared at the seat back in front of her, then up at Joshua. “What did you say?”

  “Astrid, are you all right?” Mrs. Bjorklund’s voice came from the other side of her, but she continued to stare as if on the far side of the valley and only echoes came to her. “Astrid!” Her mother spoke sharply this time.

  Astrid nodded and slowly rose. She looked toward the pulpit and then turned slowly to the guest speaker at the doorway beside Pastor Solberg, greeting all the people. Joshua studied her, feeling a frown between his eyebrows.

  “Did you ask me something?” She looked up at Joshua with a slightly dazed expression.r />
  “Yes, I did, and I’ll ask it again. Are you all right?”

  When Mrs. Bjorklund laid her hand upon Astrid’s wrist, she turned to smile at her mother. But it was an odd smile, like one painted on a wax-headed doll.

  Ingeborg kept her voice low and comforting. “Astrid, is something wrong? You are not acting like yourself.”

  Tears filled her eyes. She shook her head and shoved past Joshua, heading for the side door. She seemed to be trying to avoid speaking to either Reverend Schuman or Pastor Solberg. Joshua had no idea which or why, but she was definitely upset. He hesitated for just a moment and then followed her, walking silently alongside her, matching her stride for stride. She sniffed and sniffed again. He handed her a precisely folded white handkerchief.

  As she accepted it, a shudder went through her. Tears coursed down her face, and sobs wracked her chest. Planting one foot in front of the other, she seemed to keep time to something she alone could hear. And then he heard her say, “Not me. Not me. Not me.”

  Joshua kept silent and kept pace. All he could think was to take her in his arms and comfort her, protect her from whatever was bothering her. But he didn’t. He kept his arms at his side, his muscles rigid with the effort. He’d come all this way to find her again, and now this was happening. What could be wrong?

  Lord, if I were a real praying man, I would most certainly do that now, but I’ve not bothered you with much for some time. So if you don’t want to listen, I understand. But if you are really the God that Pastor Solberg and the other man talked about, the God my mother told me about, please hear me and help this young woman. I don’t know what to do. Did I come too late? Is there someone else? What happened to her in that service? She was fine before, friendly, and seemed happy to see me. And now she can’t quit crying. Throwing propriety over his shoulder, he stepped forward, turned, and let Astrid bump into him so he could put his arms around her. No one should have to cry alone when suffering, as she obviously was.

  Wishing he could do more but with no idea what to do, he held her and let her tears soak his shirt. She clung, fists clenching his shirtfront. When the storm slowed somewhat, he could finally make out what she was saying.

  “I don’t want to. Please, I don’t want to.” Sobs continued but now they were intermittent.

  “Don’t want to what?”

  “Go to Africa. I don’t want to go to Chicago even, but I really don’t want to go to Africa.” Gulps punctuated her words, breaking the thoughts into pieces that he tried to string together to make sense.

  “Who said you had to go to Africa?” He hoped she could hear him but realized he sounded as confused as she.

  She used his handkerchief to mop her face and blow her nose, but the tears dripped on. When she looked up at him, all he could see were diamonds and sapphires sparkling in her Bjorklund blue eyes. If he hadn’t been positive he cared for her before, he was a goner now for sure.

  He cupped his hands around her face and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears. “Astrid, please, all is well. You do not have to go to Africa. You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to go.”

  She sucked in a staggering breath and closed her eyes, resting against his warm chest. “Oh, my goodness.” Obviously appalled at her behavior, she stepped back.

  Immediately, Joshua felt struck by how much he’d rather she stay where she was.

  “Please forgive me. I . . . I’m sorry. Oh my. What will people think?” She rolled her eyes, then mopped them again. “I’m in for it now.”

  “In for what? In what?” If he thought he was confused before, this was not helping.

  “Standing here in your arms. Behaving like . . . like . . .” She couldn’t seem to find the right words, and an errant sob caught her throat. She turned and started again for home. After a few paces she muttered. “You must think me deranged or something.”

  He shrugged. “Nope. That hadn’t entered my mind.” He gave his voice a lighter, almost teasing tone. “Should it? Enter my mind, that is?”

  Astrid sucked in a mighty breath and blew it all out. “I hope not.” She brushed tendrils of hair back from where they stuck on her now drying cheeks and adjusted her hat. Hearing the horse and buggy clip-clopping behind them, they turned and stepped to the side of the road. It wasn’t just her mother and father, but several other buggies too and wagonloads of people going to the Bjorklund house for Sunday dinner.

  Haakan whoa’d the horse, and the buggy eased to a stop. “Your mother was worried about you.”

  Ingeborg gave his arm a push and tsked. “Would you like a ride?”

  “I’ll be all right, Mor. Don’t worry. We’ll see you at the house.” She glanced up at Joshua, and he nodded back to her. They turned and kept walking as the others passed them. Her cousins didn’t even make teasing comments. Their faces showed their concern.

  Thorliff and Elizabeth were the last to drive by, and he stopped his horse. “Get in.”

  Astrid shook her head. Joshua couldn’t resist a smile. His own attempts to boss his younger siblings often had the same effect.

  “Please, Astrid, join us so we can talk,” Elizabeth said, leaning forward. “Inga is with the others.”

  Astrid heaved a sigh. “You needn’t make a scene of this. I can explain my behavior.”

  Thorliff’s eyebrows met his hatband. “Something sure hit you hard. I remember one time when I tried to outrun some demons. It doesn’t work. Just gives you an aching chest and blisters on your feet.”

  “I didn’t run.”

  “Close to it. But if you would rather walk it off, we’ll meet you at the house,” Elizabeth said.

  “But—I—” Thorliff gave his wife a husbandly look.

  “We’ll see you at the house,” Elizabeth finished, at the same time giving him a poke in the side.

  Astrid rolled her lips together, and Joshua could see she was fighting back another wave of tears.

  The breeze blew the dust to the south so they didn’t have to choke on it. Instead, they walked together wrapped in a silence that felt as comfortable as a well-washed quilt.

  A meadowlark clinging to a goldenrod loosed his song in notes of joy that Joshua was sure he could see sparkling in the sun. Dewdrops still outlined a spider’s web in dots of glitter, a prism of golden rays.

  “Thank you,” Astrid said.

  “You are welcome.”

  “I suppose you want to know what happened.”

  “Only if you want to tell me.” Joshua wasn’t sure he wanted to break this peaceful silence they had back.

  “Not sure if I want to, but . . .” The silence stretched for several paces. They could hear Barney barking, welcoming everyone home. “You know when Reverend Schuman said God was calling people to come serve in Africa?”

  “Yes. Missionaries always say that. Several came to the church near the farm in Iowa, and they always needed more missionaries in Africa, China, India, everywhere. They also needed money to help their missions. So I gave some.”

  “He said they need those with medical training. It was like he was staring right at me and talking right to me.”

  “I see.” Joshua struggled to find words so as not to offend her, but he really hadn’t been listening too closely.

  “Thank you for coming with me—and sharing your handkerchief.” She held up the soaked and crumpled bit of cloth. “I’ll wash it for you.”

  He smiled at her. “That’s not necessary.”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

  He shook his head. “Not at all.” How could he? He still wasn’t really sure what they were talking about. He was just happy to see her smiling again.

  As they neared the steps of the Bjorklund farmhouse, one of Pastor Solberg’s daughters called to her from the front porch, “Astrid, where are the jacks?”

  “I’m coming.” She clapped her hand on her hat to keep it from blowing off and dashed up the walk, taking the three stairs in a leap. She’d chosen the hat that morning in the hopes of look
ing like a proper and attractive young lady to the man beside her. And then all this happened. Oh, fiddle. There went my young lady image. Guess he is seeing the real Astrid Bjorklund today. Crying my eyes out one minute and leaping the stairs the next. What will he ever make of this? But when she glanced back at him over her shoulder, his smile was definitely not condemning.

  Inside she found the jacks and told the girls to take them out on the porch so others could play if they wanted. She and Grace spread the tablecloths on top of the tables the men had set up under the cottonwood tree so the food could be brought out.

  Grace hugged her and then signed, “What happened at church? Are you okay?”

  Physically or mentally? A song from childhood whispered through her mind. Here am I, send me. A song about Samuel. God called his name in the night. Surely God hadn’t called her name today. Surely she was making this up. She shook her head, trying to shake her thoughts away.

  “Not sure,” she signed back. “I’ll explain later.” She might crumble into small pieces if she did so now. Or melt into a puddle of tears again.

  What if that was God calling her? But what about being needed right there in Blessing, North Dakota? All the plans and dreams for the new hospital, serving others—surely that was what God was calling her to do. I’ ll go to Chicago if you want, but please, not to Africa.

  “When are your cousin and her family coming from Norway?” Astrid heard Mary Martha Solberg asking Ingeborg as she came back to the kitchen.

  “Either tomorrow or the next day, as far as we know. We’ll just keep meeting the train until they get here.” Ingeborg handed Astrid a platter with sliced ham. She hesitated for a moment and gave her daughter a long look.

  “Well, if you need more room, we could sleep a couple at our house,” Mary Martha said.

  “Thanks, but we have the rooms at Kaaren’s to use until the students come back in the fall. We should be able to get a house built for them by then.”

  Astrid held the screen door open with one foot while Grace carried out one of the crockery bowls. Everyone brought food for meals like this, so it was more a case of getting it set up than anyone cooking all night, although her mother had set a pot of beans to baking the evening before. She looked around to see where Mr. Landsverk had settled and saw him talking with Hjelmer and Thorliff. Inga was sitting atop her father’s shoulders, which meant she’d gotten into something again.