A Land to Call Home by Lauraine Snelling Page B

against her apron. “Den lille guten. Mor’s good boy”
    Metiz turned from the ham sizzling in the pan. “Boys come.”
    Baptiste and Thorliff erupted into the room, only silencing when Ingeborg frowned with a finger to her lips.
    “Can we see the baby?” Thorliff asked, trying to keep his voice down but not really succeeding.
    “After we eat. Tante Kaaren and the babies are sleeping.”
    “Babies?” Thorliff raised dripping hands from the washbasin.
    “Twins. Two little girls.” Ingeborg handed him a towel. “So very tiny, son. We all need to pray for them.”
    “Like the runt pig we had last spring?”
    Ingeborg and Metiz shared a mother’s glance. “Well, not exactly, but kind of. The babies were born early and . . .” She cleared her throat. The thought of burying those two tiny bodies . . . Oh, God, please not. They want to live. We need them to live.
    “Mor?” Thorliff stood at her side. “I will help.”
    “And me.” Baptiste stood beside his friend, as dark as Thorliff was fair.
    “I know, and I can always depend on you both.” She turned them toward the table just as Haakan pushed open the door.
    “Good morning.” He hung his hat on the pegged board nailed into the sod wall. “Froze good last night.” He looked toward the bed. “She is all right?”
    “Ja, and you were right. Twins . . . girls. Sophie and Grace.”
    “And?”
    She shook her head. “They are so tiny, I don’t know how . . .”
    “You let God worry about that. We will do all we can.” He touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Grace, what a wonderful name.” He looked around. “Where are they?”
    “Metiz fixed slings so they are cradled against . . . well, Lars has Sophie. She was born first and is slightly larger. Grace is with her mother.”
    “Well, I’ll be.” Haakan smiled at Metiz. “You are an amazing woman.”
    “When get bigger put on papoose board. Keep safe.”
    Haakan took his place at the table. “I’ve heard of papoose boards.” He waited for all to bow their heads. Lars and Kaaren slept on. “I Jesu navn . . .” The Norwegian prayer rolled off his lips, and before he said the amen, he added, “And, Lord, please bless this family and make these two precious new children of yours grow strong and healthy.”
    By the time they finished eating, Lars had awakened. He stood and pulled his wet shirt away from his body. “That part of her works.”
    Ingeborg leaped to her feet. “You sit here and I will change her. I think we need to make a warm place to change the babies. They could catch cold so easily.”
    “After breakfast I will see to something.” Haakan reached for another biscuit. “Thorliff, it will be your job to take care of Andrew while your mor gets some sleep. He can help you in the barn.”
    Lars transferred the baby to Ingeborg’s hands and took a place at the table. Metiz handed him a plate with hot ham and three fried eggs. “More?”
    He shook his head, already buttering one of the fluffy biscuits.
    Ingeborg tuned out the sounds of eating as she removed the wet diaper, wiped the baby, and rewrapped the diaper around the tiny infant. Sophie started to cry, a mewling sound like that of a smallkitten. As quickly as possible Ingeborg wrapped her in a clean flannel blanket and then the quilt. How to keep them warm enough would be the main problem, unless they slept all the time in slings like those Metiz devised. Could Kaaren carry both of them at the same time?
    Ingeborg crossed to the bed as the mewlings turned into a wail. “Hard to believe such a sound comes from one so tiny.” She smiled into Kaaren’s tired blue eyes. “Sophie is hungry again.”
    “I can tell.”
    “While you nurse her, I will fix a plate and help you eat. How does that sound?”
    “Inge, I can feed myself.” Kaaren winced when she tried to sit up.
    Metiz silently handed Ingeborg a steaming cup. “She drink first.”
    Kaaren settled the infant at her breast and made sure the sling