learned to speak Mandan, and that was no easy language either.
The man with the book said a few more things, then smiled and reached out his hand. First the man beside her shook the official’s hand, then motioned for her to do the same.
After shaking their hands, he turned to a book open on the desk and wrote a few things in it before handing the pen to Kane. He wrote something and handed the pen to her.
She studied the lines. They must want her to sign her name. Ah, that she could do.
“So am I a citizen now?” she asked with as bright a smile as she could muster. When she leaned over like that, she had to fight against the dizziness again.
When they both nodded, she let out the breath she’d not realized she was holding. Becoming an American certainly was simple. Why had Hjelmer made such a big thing of it?
Kane took her arm, said good-bye to Justice Rhinehart, and took his new bride out the door. From the look on her face, he’d better feed her before she fainted on him.
He was counting his blessings for sure. Not only was she lovely as the sunrise, she was agreeable too.
“We’re going to Blessing now?”
He nodded. “You bet. Blessings in abundance. I’ll pick up our lunch basket, and we’ll be on our way.”
Chapter 7
Blessing
September 1
“Where is she?”
“Mor, I don’t know.” Hjelmer watched the train pull away from the plank platform in front of the sack house.
“But Augusta was supposed to be on this train.” In her consternation, Bridget Bjorklund abandoned her newly learned English and reverted to Norwegian.
“I know she was, but she must have missed a connection somewhere. She’ll be on the train tomorrow for sure.”
In the small town of Blessing, North Dakota, the St. Paul and Pacific Railroad ran west in the early morning, again around noon, and a third ran east in the late afternoon. And since this train had been late, the group on the platform had been waiting for some time.
“Will Tante Augusta sleep in a station?” Thorliff, Bridget’s oldest grandson, asked.
Standing behind Bridget, his mother, Ingeborg, caught his eye and gave a minuscule shake of her head. No sense in making Bridget’s worries any worse.
“Now, Mor, don’t you go worrying. Augusta is a grown woman, and she’s been out in the world for almost fifteen years, taking the train to Oslo to work with that family and all. She’ll know how to take care of herself.” Hjelmer wiped the sweat off his brow with a kerchief.
Here it was September and still hot as August.
“Ja, well, I better get back to the boardinghouse, then.” Bridget shook her head. Uff da! She’d had a feeling when she woke up that the day wasn’t going to go too well. But she’d never thought of something this bad. Father God, please take care of that daughter of mine. I know she is your child, but sometimes a mother worries more than a father . She thought of reminding Him how she felt about His care of her youngest daughter, but one didn’t talk to God that way, leastways she didn’t. Katy and her babe were in heaven, where at least they were safe, not like Augusta, who was only God knew where.
Bridget scratched a mosquito bite, set to itching by the trickle of perspiration that meandered down her neck.
“I’ll go check with Gunnar and make sure there hasn’t been any trouble on the line,” Hjelmer said.
Just that summer they’d gotten a real telegraph office in Blessing. The operator, Gunnar Erickson, took over a corner part of the sack house. Surely Augusta would have sent them a telegraph if there was a problem. If she thought of it. If she had enough money. The ifs were as irritating as the black flies. He brushed one away and blinked in the dimness of the building after the brilliance of the morning sun.
“Hey, Erickson,” he called as he drew closer to the telegraph office.
“Ja, vat you vant?” Pushing his green visor up on his shiny bald head, the man turned from his machine.
Hjelmer leaned on
The man with the book said a few more things, then smiled and reached out his hand. First the man beside her shook the official’s hand, then motioned for her to do the same.
After shaking their hands, he turned to a book open on the desk and wrote a few things in it before handing the pen to Kane. He wrote something and handed the pen to her.
She studied the lines. They must want her to sign her name. Ah, that she could do.
“So am I a citizen now?” she asked with as bright a smile as she could muster. When she leaned over like that, she had to fight against the dizziness again.
When they both nodded, she let out the breath she’d not realized she was holding. Becoming an American certainly was simple. Why had Hjelmer made such a big thing of it?
Kane took her arm, said good-bye to Justice Rhinehart, and took his new bride out the door. From the look on her face, he’d better feed her before she fainted on him.
He was counting his blessings for sure. Not only was she lovely as the sunrise, she was agreeable too.
“We’re going to Blessing now?”
He nodded. “You bet. Blessings in abundance. I’ll pick up our lunch basket, and we’ll be on our way.”
Chapter 7
Blessing
September 1
“Where is she?”
“Mor, I don’t know.” Hjelmer watched the train pull away from the plank platform in front of the sack house.
“But Augusta was supposed to be on this train.” In her consternation, Bridget Bjorklund abandoned her newly learned English and reverted to Norwegian.
“I know she was, but she must have missed a connection somewhere. She’ll be on the train tomorrow for sure.”
In the small town of Blessing, North Dakota, the St. Paul and Pacific Railroad ran west in the early morning, again around noon, and a third ran east in the late afternoon. And since this train had been late, the group on the platform had been waiting for some time.
“Will Tante Augusta sleep in a station?” Thorliff, Bridget’s oldest grandson, asked.
Standing behind Bridget, his mother, Ingeborg, caught his eye and gave a minuscule shake of her head. No sense in making Bridget’s worries any worse.
“Now, Mor, don’t you go worrying. Augusta is a grown woman, and she’s been out in the world for almost fifteen years, taking the train to Oslo to work with that family and all. She’ll know how to take care of herself.” Hjelmer wiped the sweat off his brow with a kerchief.
Here it was September and still hot as August.
“Ja, well, I better get back to the boardinghouse, then.” Bridget shook her head. Uff da! She’d had a feeling when she woke up that the day wasn’t going to go too well. But she’d never thought of something this bad. Father God, please take care of that daughter of mine. I know she is your child, but sometimes a mother worries more than a father . She thought of reminding Him how she felt about His care of her youngest daughter, but one didn’t talk to God that way, leastways she didn’t. Katy and her babe were in heaven, where at least they were safe, not like Augusta, who was only God knew where.
Bridget scratched a mosquito bite, set to itching by the trickle of perspiration that meandered down her neck.
“I’ll go check with Gunnar and make sure there hasn’t been any trouble on the line,” Hjelmer said.
Just that summer they’d gotten a real telegraph office in Blessing. The operator, Gunnar Erickson, took over a corner part of the sack house. Surely Augusta would have sent them a telegraph if there was a problem. If she thought of it. If she had enough money. The ifs were as irritating as the black flies. He brushed one away and blinked in the dimness of the building after the brilliance of the morning sun.
“Hey, Erickson,” he called as he drew closer to the telegraph office.
“Ja, vat you vant?” Pushing his green visor up on his shiny bald head, the man turned from his machine.
Hjelmer leaned on
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