horses would pick up their feet. “But I heard that comment today about where our quilts go. Made me want to go over and shake her. We, who all have so much compared to others, should be generous.”
“Funny how many of them don’t really think of Metiz as Indian any longer. She’s helped about everyone in Blessing and others for miles around at one time or another.”
“Ja, but there is always the bad apple that rots the barrel.”
CHAPTER TEN
June arrived with no rain in sight.
Thorliff lifted the yoke off the oxen for the final time until haying would start. The sun burned, tanning him through the fabric of his shirt. With no fieldwork to do after dinner, maybe I can go over and visit with Anji. We could walk down by the river .
“I think we all need to go fishing,” Haakan said to his sons as h hung the harnesses up on their pegs. “What do you say?”
“I say that’s the best news I’ve had since graduation.” Thorliff too off his wide-brimmed hat to wipe the sweat off his forehead. So much for seeing Anji today. Perhaps tomorrow night.
“Go ask your mor if she wants to go too. Maybe we’ll have a picnic supper with the fish we catch.”
“I will.” Andrew took off for the house before anyone could answer.
Thorliff and Haakan shared the kind of look grown-ups give at the antics of one younger. Pleasure sat on Thorliff ’s shoulders like a purring kitten.
“You’ve worked hard as any man, son. I want you to know I appreciate it. Both of you boys have.” Haakan stretched his arms above his head, then lifted and resettled his hat. “Let’s go eat.” Throwing his arm around Thorliff ’s shoulders, he strode on up to the house with his son at his side. They paused and turned, as if by secret communication, and looked out over the newly seeded fields. In some, the growing wheat softened the black soil with a veil of green. The most recently seeded ground still lay smooth and black, absorbing the sun that would bring the seeds to life.
“Now if only the rains would come, gentle and lasting for a couple of days. Wouldn’t that be the perfect picture?”
“Ja, it would.” Thorliff dipped water, warmed by the sun, into the washbasins lined along the house wall. Towels hung on a rod above the bench, and soap rested in a dish so that none would be wasted. They washed, tossed the wash water over the roses by the front door, and followed their noses into a kitchen redolent with the smell of baking chicken, sage, onion, and bacon to flavor the greens. Biscuit perfume floated over the other aromas like frosting on a cake.
Haakan inhaled a chest-swelling draught and touched his wife’s arm as she hurried past. “I could smell this meal clear out in the fields. That’s why we raced around the last turns. Did you see the horses at a dead run and me whipping them on?”
“Ach, the way you go on.” Ingeborg gave him a poke with her elbow.
“Call Astrid, will you please?”
“Where is she?”
“Gathering eggs. I thought to take a wagon with eggs, cheese, and butter into the store this afternoon.”
“Ja, I’ll call her, but doesn’t fishing and a picnic sound better than a trip to the store?”
Ingeborg shook her head. “Fishing is what sounds a treat. What if you men go fishing and Astrid and I bring food to go with the fresh fish down in time for an early supper. Then we can all help with the milking. Surely the cows won’t mind our being a bit late.”
“Ah, leave it to you to figure the best way.”
“I’ll call Astrid,” said Thorliff. The thought of an afternoon of fishing banished the tiredness he had carried to the house, so he jumped down the steps and trotted across the yard to the chicken coop.
“Dinner, Astrid.” He looked inside to see a few hens on the nests but no laughing girl, not even behind the door. He found her in the coolness of the springhouse, damp cloth in hand to clean the eggs she was setting into the wooden egg crates. A pan of water sat beside
“Funny how many of them don’t really think of Metiz as Indian any longer. She’s helped about everyone in Blessing and others for miles around at one time or another.”
“Ja, but there is always the bad apple that rots the barrel.”
CHAPTER TEN
June arrived with no rain in sight.
Thorliff lifted the yoke off the oxen for the final time until haying would start. The sun burned, tanning him through the fabric of his shirt. With no fieldwork to do after dinner, maybe I can go over and visit with Anji. We could walk down by the river .
“I think we all need to go fishing,” Haakan said to his sons as h hung the harnesses up on their pegs. “What do you say?”
“I say that’s the best news I’ve had since graduation.” Thorliff too off his wide-brimmed hat to wipe the sweat off his forehead. So much for seeing Anji today. Perhaps tomorrow night.
“Go ask your mor if she wants to go too. Maybe we’ll have a picnic supper with the fish we catch.”
“I will.” Andrew took off for the house before anyone could answer.
Thorliff and Haakan shared the kind of look grown-ups give at the antics of one younger. Pleasure sat on Thorliff ’s shoulders like a purring kitten.
“You’ve worked hard as any man, son. I want you to know I appreciate it. Both of you boys have.” Haakan stretched his arms above his head, then lifted and resettled his hat. “Let’s go eat.” Throwing his arm around Thorliff ’s shoulders, he strode on up to the house with his son at his side. They paused and turned, as if by secret communication, and looked out over the newly seeded fields. In some, the growing wheat softened the black soil with a veil of green. The most recently seeded ground still lay smooth and black, absorbing the sun that would bring the seeds to life.
“Now if only the rains would come, gentle and lasting for a couple of days. Wouldn’t that be the perfect picture?”
“Ja, it would.” Thorliff dipped water, warmed by the sun, into the washbasins lined along the house wall. Towels hung on a rod above the bench, and soap rested in a dish so that none would be wasted. They washed, tossed the wash water over the roses by the front door, and followed their noses into a kitchen redolent with the smell of baking chicken, sage, onion, and bacon to flavor the greens. Biscuit perfume floated over the other aromas like frosting on a cake.
Haakan inhaled a chest-swelling draught and touched his wife’s arm as she hurried past. “I could smell this meal clear out in the fields. That’s why we raced around the last turns. Did you see the horses at a dead run and me whipping them on?”
“Ach, the way you go on.” Ingeborg gave him a poke with her elbow.
“Call Astrid, will you please?”
“Where is she?”
“Gathering eggs. I thought to take a wagon with eggs, cheese, and butter into the store this afternoon.”
“Ja, I’ll call her, but doesn’t fishing and a picnic sound better than a trip to the store?”
Ingeborg shook her head. “Fishing is what sounds a treat. What if you men go fishing and Astrid and I bring food to go with the fresh fish down in time for an early supper. Then we can all help with the milking. Surely the cows won’t mind our being a bit late.”
“Ah, leave it to you to figure the best way.”
“I’ll call Astrid,” said Thorliff. The thought of an afternoon of fishing banished the tiredness he had carried to the house, so he jumped down the steps and trotted across the yard to the chicken coop.
“Dinner, Astrid.” He looked inside to see a few hens on the nests but no laughing girl, not even behind the door. He found her in the coolness of the springhouse, damp cloth in hand to clean the eggs she was setting into the wooden egg crates. A pan of water sat beside
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