Dakota Dusk by Lauraine Snelling

its new home. One waved at her.
    “We’re ready when you are,” he called.
    “Mith Thtenthrude, can I be by you?” Emily Gordon pleaded with her round blue eyes.
    Rebekka stepped back and shared her rope with the little one. “Of course. Now you be ready to pull.”
    “One,” Mr. Larson’s voice rang out. Silence fell. “Two.” Giggles erupted along the rope line.
    “Stop shoving me!” a small boy demanded.
    “Get off my foot!” yelled someone else.
    “Three! Now, pull steady, don’t jerk. You want the bell to rise nice and easy.” Mr. Larson walked along with his pulling team as the rope stretched from the tower clear to the ground and along the caterpillar of pullers.
    “Good, good!” A man inside of the building who was guiding the bell called. “Easy now.”
    The line of children snaked back, each one carefully pulling on his section of rope. Rebekka watched as the older ones looked out for the younger and they all worked together to raise the bell.
    “There it is!” The cry rang out as the top of the bell cleared the ledge. The two men waved. The line stopped.
    “Ith almotht up,” the lisper beamed up at Rebekka.
    “Sure is. You did a good job.” Rebekka leaned down and laid a fingertip on the little one’s button nose.
    “Don’t drop your rope,” the charmer cautioned.
    Rebekka nodded solemnly. “I won’t.” She raised her gaze to the bell tower as one of the men called out.
    “Easy now. Only an inch at a time.”
    The children stared up at him, waiting for the signal and then barely moving back. The bell inched upward.
    “That’s it.” The two men secured the bell and raised their hands for the cheer. “Okay now, on three. Pull the rope for the bell to ring. One, two, three!”
    The children pulled; the bell rang out, the bong, bong sounding joyous and richer for the cleaning. They pulled again and the bell sang for them all.
    “Yeth,” the little one said, clapping her hands and turning to Rebekka, who lifted the child into her arms. Together they and all the crowd clapped and cheered.
    Reverend Haugen walked up the schoolhouse steps and turned to face the gathered people. “A fitting end to a wonderful day. Let us bow our heads and thank the Lord for watching over us.” He waited for the rustlings to cease and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, we dedicate this building to Thee. Be with our children who learn here and the teacher that teaches them. We thank Thee for keeping us all safe and in Thy care. Now, please give us safe travel and good rest. Amen.”
    Rebekka shook hands and wished everyone good night, thanking them for their efforts. As the last wagon was loaded and left, she and Widow Sampson folded tablecloths and picked up the stray napkins.
    “What a day,” Rebekka said as she rubbed the small of her back with her fists. “Mr. Larson said we would be able to open school next Monday. They’ll be finishing the inside of the building this week.” She turned to catch a secret smile that Widow Sampson tried to hide. “All right. What’s that for?”
    “You’ll see.” The older woman packed the last box into the wagon. “Are you riding with me or walking?” she asked as she climbed up on the seat of the wagon.
    “I’m coming,” said Rebekka as she stepped up and pulled herself onto the wagon seat. When the horse started off, she looked over her shoulder to the schoolhouse, gleaming faintly in the dusk.
    “Thank You, Lord,” she whispered.
    “What’s that?”
    “Just happy, that’s all.”
    “That’s enough.”
    “You want me to take the horse back?” Rebekka asked when they pulled to a halt at the boardinghouse.
    “That would be nice, dear. Then I can get these things put away. When you get back I have something to tell you.” The Widow Sampson stepped to the ground and tied the horse to the fence. Together, the two women unloaded the wagon, carrying baskets and tubs to the back porch.
    “I wouldn’t mind if you told me now.” Rebekka paused