A New Day Rising by Lauraine Snelling

What must it have been like to be cooped up in here with a young boy, a baby, and the screeching wind day after day? How did she get out to care for the livestock in the winter months?
    The question burst forth in spite of his personal admonitions not to be inquisitive. "How did you manage through the blizzards?"
    Ingeborg turned from the stove where she'd been adding more wood to the firebox. "You mean with the cows and sheep?"
    "Ja, and the boys. By yourself?"
    Ingeborg wiped her hands on the underside of her apron. "We strung a rope from the house to the barn so we could follow it when the snow was so bad I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. You learn to do that early on, or you never make it through the winter. We melted snow for the animals to drink when they could not get out to the trough. It was much easier this year since we had the well. We used to take the animals down to drink in the river where we kept a hole chopped out for them." She handed Thorliff the plate of sliced bread to place on the table. "One good thing about the snow, we never ran out of water, though keeping enough melted was a fulltime job. Thorliff has done the work of a man since his father died. I couldn't have managed without him." She patted the boy on the shoulder. "Thanks to the good Lord, we made it."
    Haakan shook his head in amazement. Privately he doubted the good Lord had as much to do with it as did her sheer strength of will and Norwegian stubbornness. But then, he'd never been one to trouble the Lord with the events in his life. He'd decided early on that he'd rather take care of things himself than try to depend on one he couldn't see and who caused such pious and sober faces of a Sunday morn. Contrary to the pastor's and his mother's preaching those years ago, he'd always felt the bird choirs and the wind an them in the trees a better way to worship if there really was a God like they'd insisted.

    When she had all the food on the table, Ingeborg asked Thorliff to lead grace. Haakan joined in the old words he'd learned at his mother's knee. "Ejesu naven, gor vi til brod...... It had been a long time since he'd heard the verse. He knew if he'd taken time to say grace at the trestle tables in the cookshack at the logging camppacked shoulder to shoulder they'd been-he'd have missed out on the bowls and platters of food being passed down the line. Too, he'd have been in for a healthy dose of ribbing. Haakan had earned his reputation for strength and fairness the hard way-by his hands.
    They were halfway through the meal when he remembered. "Oh, I have something for you." He pushed his chair back and retrieved his pack from by the door where he'd set it when he came in. Along with the packet of sugar and coffee, he held out the letter the man at The Mercantile had sent with him. "I'm sorry. I forgot to give you this sooner."
    Ingeborg clasped the letter to her bosom. "From home! A letter from home!" She raised shining eyes to thank him. "What a treat you have brought us. We'll all have to take this over to Tante Kaaren's to read after dinner." She laid the precious envelope down beside her plate and fingered the tied brown packet. "And what is this?"
    "Open it, Mor." Thorliff leaned forward, elbows on the table.
    "I wanted to bring you a gift but didn't know you, so this was all I could think of." Haakan took his place again and raised the cup to drink.
    Ingeborg unwrapped her package. "Not more peppermint sticks, I take it?"
    "No." He looked at Thorliff. "Sorry."
    Ingeborg sniffed. "Coffee." She opened the packet and brought the bag up to her nose. "It smells heavenly. I've been hoarding the few beans left, now we will have plenty."
    "Mor, what is in the other pack?" Thorliff asked, his eyes on the brown wrapped parcel.
    "I don't know. Do you want to open it?"
    "Can I?" He looked from Mor to the visitor. Haakan nodded and Ingeborg beckoned for Thorliff to come stand beside her.
    "Be careful," Haakan cautioned.
    Thorliff caught