Free An Untamed Heart by Lauraine Snelling Page B

the box of cheese and butter molds out to the wagon. “I would rather go, but I do so hate to miss Katrina’s wedding. She needs at least one of her sisters there.” Her eyes grew dreamy. “And besides, I might get ideas for my own wedding.”
    “You better not go falling in love yet. You are too young.” Ingeborg stacked the new box near the front of the wagon, since it was easier to move than the food boxes. “Besides, there are so few eligible men around here.”
    “Maybe at your age, but not mine.” Berta’s arched look made Ingeborg smile.
    “Well, maybe, but those your age have a lot of growing up to do yet.” She paused and studied her sister through slitted eyes. “You are thinking of someone, Berta. Confess.”
    “I . . . uh . . . no . . . uh . . .” Berta grimaced, again eliciting a smile from her older sister and a pat on the shoulder to go with it. “Lars Bornstadt is smart and a hard worker and trustworthy and—”
    “Cute as can be. Actually too cute for a man, but his face will mature. He is big and strong, that’s for sure.” Ingeborg paused, a knowing look lifting her eyebrows. “Do you think he likes you? He would be stupid not to, of course, but men—er—rather, boys can be fickle.” And tongue-tied and silly and . . . Ingeborg kept those thoughts to herself. Just because she wanted a man who could carry on a decent conversation, along with have a sense of curiosity and wonder, that’s not to say Berta looked for the same things. Of course, when one was fourteen, one went more on attraction and good looks than truly thinking things through.
    Berta nodded. “I know he does. Carly told me so.”
    Carly was Lars’s younger sister, who was close friends with Berta.
    Ingeborg strolled with Berta back to the house to bring out the stored fleeces to pack around other boxes and keep them secure. A place for everything and everything in its place. Now, that was a Mor-ism Ingeborg totally agreed with and practiced.
    Not that her mother wasn’t wise—they all knew she was—but, there was always that but , a stumbling block for sure. Understanding was important to Ingeborg, and the way hermother treated her, she absolutely did not comprehend. She forced herself back to what Berta was saying.
    “Sorry, my mind went woolgathering. What did you say?”
    “Oh, Ingeborg, you are so funny. I asked you how many fleeces you were taking. I saw both spinning wheels already packed, in fleece no less. There is justice or something there, don’t you agree?”
    “I agree that you are sounding and acting more grown up all the time. I’m afraid that by the time I return, you will be a woman and I won’t know you.” She tweaked her sister’s single braid—she no longer wore two, a sure sign of growing maturity.
    By evening Ingeborg had two of the wagons packed and covered with canvas to keep out the dew or rain, if it appeared, which was doubtful with the red sky at night. Not that true dark night ever happened these days.

    The evening before they were ready to depart, the family gathered around the kitchen table like they always did. Far bowed his head and waited for them to settle. “God above, we thank you for our seter and the good cheese that will come from there. Thank you for those willing to travel up there and live away from so many good things here.”
    Ingeborg’s mind balked at that. She’d rather be up there than here, any day. Well, not in midwinter, not that high up in the mountains, but summer days for certain. She jerked her mind back to his prayer.
    “Guard our cattle and our children from wild creatures and storms and accidents. We will give you all the praise and glory. Grant us thy grace and peace. Amen.” He lookedaround the table. “Jesus said, ‘And lo, I am with you always.’ We all count on that.”
    The nod went around the table. Ingeborg wished she could take the family Bible with her, but through the years she had copied from it, verses and whole chapters