A New Day Rising by Lauraine Snelling Page B

supper. And you come when you can. Fresh meat will be such a treat again, and if you get enough, perhaps we can smoke some. I'm almost out of meat, and the root cellar has many bare spots. Soon there should be dandelion for greens, just like at home."
    When will we cease to think of Nordland as home? Ingeborg wondered after she left one soddy and headed for the other. She let Andrew walk beside her, keeping hold of the dish towel she'd tied around his waist. More and more each day, he resented being carried and let her know with squirms and wiggles and the plaintive cry that was becoming the watchword. "Down, Mor, down."
    Each day he learned new words and could run farther before overtaking his feet and falling flat out. Undaunted, he got up and charged after Paws or Thorliff, repeating his actions till he looked as if he'd been rolling in the mud on purpose. Ingeborg knew she would have to watch him more closely as the prairie grass reached for the sun.
    When she put him to bed that night after washing him clean once again, Ingeborg kissed his rosy cheek and tucked the lighter quilt under his chin. "Den lille guten," she whispered. "God bless." She said prayers with Thorliff and kissed him too. Such good sons she had, and how grateful she felt for their good health. Only at evening or when she cuddled Andrew did she think of the one that died stillborn not long after they settled on their homestead. As Kaaren so often reminded her, those children of theirs who'd gone before were now cradled safe in their heavenly Father's arms.

    "God in heaven," she whispered that night after Haakan had gone out to the barn and the house was quiet. "Please watch over that new life growing in Kaaren. She misses her little girls so. Thank you for spring and our health and for sending Haakan to help us. Father, help me to be content to let the men do the fieldwork, although I'm not so sure that is one of your edicts, but rather ours instead. What does it matter who does which work as long as all that is needed gets done?" She lay in her warm bed and waited, wishing she would hear the still small voice of God that the Bible spoke of. She thought of her family in Nordland and prayed for them. "You heard Haakan say he thinks we should begin shearing the sheep. You're the great Shepherd. Tell me, is the time right?" She waited again. Sighing, she turned on her side. "Thank you for listening. Amen."
    After a hurried breakfast, Haakan said on the way out, "Lars and I will make a trip to St. Andrew tomorrow. If we leave before daylight, we should be able to make it back before dark."
    "Are you asking me or telling me?" Ingeborg could have bit her tongue at the sharp retort.
    Haakan gave her a questioning look as he lifted his basket of food for dinner. "Thank you for fixing this." Ax over his shoulder, he strode out toward the river.
    She waved Thorliff and his flock of sheep off after giving him a ham sandwich and a water jug. "Now, don't go too far, you hear. Over the winter the sheep might have forgotten how to mind you."
    "Mo-or." Thorliff's pained expression gave deeper meaning to his word.
    "Just be careful." She watched as the boy headed out, the sheep following him as though they did this every day. The lambs gamboled around their mothers, and the ram brought up the rear. Paws trotted on the outside of the flock to round up any strays. In the places where the snow had melted first, the grass was already a short carpet of green.
    Ingeborg hurried around, setting the house to rights and banking the stove. She gave a good stir to the pot of ham and beans she'd set to cooking and added a dollop of molasses. She took the rifle down and inspected it. When she was young, her brother had stressed upon her the importance of keeping the gun cleaned and oiled. Following his instructions, along with those of Carl, had stood her in good stead.

    Andrew tagged at her feet, lost without his brother to entertain him. "Mor, go," he whimpered. "Go, Tor."
    "No,