Free The Reaper's Song by Lauraine Snelling Page B

way to the Pacific Ocean now, but not thislittle line that goes up here. You got to go back to Grand Forks or Fargo for that.”
    “I know, but I didn’t want to go to the Pacific Ocean. I like Dakota Territory, and once it becomes a state, this is going to be an even better place to live.”
    “How so?”
    “Just a feeling I have. Now, I gotta get to that woodpile.” He reached for his hat. “Thank you for a mighty fine meal.”
    He got as far as the door before she stopped him. “You any good with sums?”
    “I can add, subtract, multiply, and divide, if that’s what you mean.”
    “Read?”
    “And write.”
    “Good.” Penny thought she’d better talk it over with Hjelmer before offering the man a job. She pushed her chair back and began clearing the table. The coins jingled in her apron pocket when she reached for the dirty plates. The clock in the sitting room chimed one o’clock.
    “Where is that man of mine?” she asked the steaming teakettle. She cut a piece of bread and laid the last two slices of cheese on it. After setting the sandwich aside for Hjelmer, she finished clearing the table, putting the dishes in the pan waiting on the cool end of the stove. She poured hot water over them, crumbled in a bit of the soft soap she kept for that purpose, and wiped off the table.
    Just as she dried her hands on her apron before taking it off to go look for Hjelmer, a yoo-hoo came from the front of the store.
    “Coming.” If only she could call Hjelmer as easily. Can’t they read the closed sign?

H ave you slept at all?” Lars Knutson raised his head from the pillow.
    Kaaren, his wife, sitting in the rocking chair with a whimpering girl in one arm and a nursing one in the other, shook her head. “Their throats hurt so they can hardly nurse. And they’ll have nothing to do with gruel and honey. Mumps are miserable for ones so little.”
    “And for their mother.” He threw back the sheet and climbed from the rope-slung bed. “I’ll walk one while you nurse the other, but I thought you had them about weaned.”
    “They were until they took sick.” She handed him Sophie, who was rubbing her eyes with her fists.
    Lars settled his daughter against his shoulder and began humming in her ear as he paced the floor. Three long strides and he’d covered it, detouring so as not to knock his shin on the rocker. He jiggled Sophie while he walked back to the bed, turned, and circled the oilcloth-covered table this time.
    Kaaren leaned her head against the back of the chair. Her eyes felt as if they held half the grit of the Dakota plains. And with all she had to do in the morning. Not that morning wasn’t already here. She rocked the chair gently and gazed down at her daughter. Grace sucked a moment, then whimpered. She never really cried, but her fist beating against her mother’s breast spoke well of her misery. Her cheeks were swollen to twice their normal size, and while her temperature had dropped, she was still plenty warm. Even though the twins were nearly two, being ill made them demand to nurse, then fuss while doing so.
    Kaaren stroked the soft hair back from where it lay plastered onthe baby’s forehead. At the stroking, Grace opened her eyes, one half-swollen shut, and stared at her mother. “Oh, to be knowing what you would say, little one,” Kaaren whispered. Whispering, shouting, neither did any good. Grace was born the second twin and had never heard a sound.
    Kaaren shifted the child to the center of her chest, with Grace’s cheek against her mother’s throat. She always seemed to settle best in that position, and Kaaren resumed her humming. She kept the chair moving and let her eyes fall shut. As always, when Grace cuddled like this, Kaaren picked up where she had left off before Lars woke up. Heavenly Father, how do I help this little one thou hast given me? Thou art all-knowing, all-loving, my Father. Teach me about the world she lives in. How will she join in with other children? How