Read Online RR05 - Tender Mercies by Lauraine Snelling - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lauraine Snelling
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Man-Woman Relationships, Christian fiction, Religious, Christian, Red River of the North, Norwegian Americans, Dakota Territory
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only company that seemed to care about the farmers was Hill’s Great Northern Railroad, but the Great Northern didn’t have any cheaper rates, just more sidings to load wheat. Not having to drive the loaded wagons so far did indeed help, but the cost . . .
“Olaf said wheat prices dropped again too. Sure glad we got ours shipped when it was higher. Between the flour mills and the railroads . . .” He shook his head. “Maybe we should just make cheese.”
Ingeborg’s good cheese was bought up wherever she sent it, with shopkeepers crying for more. She’d given up trying to deliver to the Bonanza farm, so they rarely saw Solveig, Kaaren’s sister. She had married George Carlson, who ran the Bonanza farm just across the river from St. Andrew. Mrs. McKenzie at the Mercantile in St. Andrew even drove out to the farm to buy cheese on her own.
“We’d need a bigger well house for curing.”
“I’ve been thinking on that. If we build it like the ice house . . .”
She could tell Haakan was off on one of his planning trips again. He nodded and left the room.
“Inge, where’s a piece of paper?”
“We better have Olaf build a desk so we can keep track of things.” Ingeborg set the sock she was darning aside and got to her feet. “That man, he couldn’t find his way out of a gunnysack.”
The chuckle she and Bridget shared didn’t need words.
Later that night, curled up in the curve of his body, she let her mind wander again. Would this time together have brought them another child? She didn’t care if it were a boy or girl, just so she could have a baby again. Although, it would be wonderful to give Haakan a son of his own.
Please, God, I want to give Haakan sons. Is that too much to ask?
Chapter 7
“Ah heard you could use some help.”
Pastor Solberg stared at the smiling young woman with her two charges in front of her. Her green eyes sparkled like morning dew on spring green leaves. And her hair, the dark curls rioting down her back, was caught back on the sides with two mother-of-pearl combs.
She should know enough to bind her hair up, a woman her age, after all . He could feel the frown deepening between his eyes. “Well . . . ah . . .” Lord, help me. What can I say? She’s the last person I want here . The crisp fall breeze chuckled in his ear.
“Good. I’m glad to be useful, as my ma always said. While I’ve not taught school before, I’ve worked with little ones, and—”
“And she is the bestest reader.” Deborah, who hadn’t run off as Manda had, stood next to Mary Martha like a fiercely protective guard dog. The look she aimed at the teacher warned that she sensed his thoughts.
“I . . . ah . . . thank you very much. Ah . . . if you . . .” Mind, where have you gone? I’m stuttering like a child .
Mary Martha looked as if she might begin to twiddle her thumbs any second. “Where may I tie up the horse?”
“I’ll show you.” Deborah gave her teacher a confused look, then shrugged and took the woman’s hand. “This way.”
“Morning, Miss MacCallister. You staying to help at school?” Thorliff left the game and came over to her. At her halfhearted shrug, he responded in kind before continuing. “I could take off the harness if you like. Then if we tied your horse on a long line to the wagon wheel, he could graze, if that’s all right. That’s what we do for church on Sundays.”
“That will be right fine, and I appreciate the offer.” Mary Martha let the children help her, and just as the school bell rang, Deborah brought her back to the front door where children were lining up.
Pastor Solberg stood at the doorway, nodding in answer to greetings from his students. He very carefully refrained from looking at Miss MacCallister.
A bubble of laughter rose in her throat and threatened to embarrass her. Why, the man was flummoxed. He’d been rude the other day and didn’t know how to get out of it. The idea tickled her. If Zeb were here, he’d tell her to
“Olaf said wheat prices dropped again too. Sure glad we got ours shipped when it was higher. Between the flour mills and the railroads . . .” He shook his head. “Maybe we should just make cheese.”
Ingeborg’s good cheese was bought up wherever she sent it, with shopkeepers crying for more. She’d given up trying to deliver to the Bonanza farm, so they rarely saw Solveig, Kaaren’s sister. She had married George Carlson, who ran the Bonanza farm just across the river from St. Andrew. Mrs. McKenzie at the Mercantile in St. Andrew even drove out to the farm to buy cheese on her own.
“We’d need a bigger well house for curing.”
“I’ve been thinking on that. If we build it like the ice house . . .”
She could tell Haakan was off on one of his planning trips again. He nodded and left the room.
“Inge, where’s a piece of paper?”
“We better have Olaf build a desk so we can keep track of things.” Ingeborg set the sock she was darning aside and got to her feet. “That man, he couldn’t find his way out of a gunnysack.”
The chuckle she and Bridget shared didn’t need words.
Later that night, curled up in the curve of his body, she let her mind wander again. Would this time together have brought them another child? She didn’t care if it were a boy or girl, just so she could have a baby again. Although, it would be wonderful to give Haakan a son of his own.
Please, God, I want to give Haakan sons. Is that too much to ask?
Chapter 7
“Ah heard you could use some help.”
Pastor Solberg stared at the smiling young woman with her two charges in front of her. Her green eyes sparkled like morning dew on spring green leaves. And her hair, the dark curls rioting down her back, was caught back on the sides with two mother-of-pearl combs.
She should know enough to bind her hair up, a woman her age, after all . He could feel the frown deepening between his eyes. “Well . . . ah . . .” Lord, help me. What can I say? She’s the last person I want here . The crisp fall breeze chuckled in his ear.
“Good. I’m glad to be useful, as my ma always said. While I’ve not taught school before, I’ve worked with little ones, and—”
“And she is the bestest reader.” Deborah, who hadn’t run off as Manda had, stood next to Mary Martha like a fiercely protective guard dog. The look she aimed at the teacher warned that she sensed his thoughts.
“I . . . ah . . . thank you very much. Ah . . . if you . . .” Mind, where have you gone? I’m stuttering like a child .
Mary Martha looked as if she might begin to twiddle her thumbs any second. “Where may I tie up the horse?”
“I’ll show you.” Deborah gave her teacher a confused look, then shrugged and took the woman’s hand. “This way.”
“Morning, Miss MacCallister. You staying to help at school?” Thorliff left the game and came over to her. At her halfhearted shrug, he responded in kind before continuing. “I could take off the harness if you like. Then if we tied your horse on a long line to the wagon wheel, he could graze, if that’s all right. That’s what we do for church on Sundays.”
“That will be right fine, and I appreciate the offer.” Mary Martha let the children help her, and just as the school bell rang, Deborah brought her back to the front door where children were lining up.
Pastor Solberg stood at the doorway, nodding in answer to greetings from his students. He very carefully refrained from looking at Miss MacCallister.
A bubble of laughter rose in her throat and threatened to embarrass her. Why, the man was flummoxed. He’d been rude the other day and didn’t know how to get out of it. The idea tickled her. If Zeb were here, he’d tell her to
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