Free A Land to Call Home by Lauraine Snelling Page A

the breeze lifting the strands of gold from her forehead, she beckoned the children. They gathered around her, one little girl laying her head on what remained of Kaaren’s lap and another snugging up against her side. She stroked the white-gold hair of the child at her knee and began. “Long time ago in the northern part of Nord-land, an old troll lived in a cave right beside a beautiful stream that danced and sang its way from the snowfield on the mountaintop to the valley below. Now, the old troll was so-o-o old that he helped build the mountain.”
    “How old was that?” asked Gus, the youngest Baard boy.
    Kaaren shook her head. “No one knew how old he was.” “They couldn’t count that far?”
    She nodded. “That’s a wonderful answer.” As the story continued, she kept an eye on the rising walls of her schoolhouse. When she finished, the children begged for another. By the time the women had dinner ready, she’d fought the battle of Jericho, visited Daniel in the lion’s den, and staggered across the desert with the Israelites.
    Penny came over and handed her a cup of water. “You sure tell a good story, Mrs. Knutson. Makes me wish I could come back to school just to hear you.”
    While the children scampered off to take the plates their mothers had filled, Penny took a place on the quilt. Tracing the colorful patches with a fingertip, she sighed.
    “I take it you haven’t heard from Hjelmer.”
    The younger woman shook her head. “Not a word. Makes me not want to write to him, but I promised, and as Tante Agnes has drummed into my head, a promise is a promise no matter if the other person keeps their part or not.” She looked up with swimming eyes. “Do you think something’s happened to him?” She swallowed hard. “I mean, what if—?”
    “My mor always said the Bible tells us to ‘let the day’s own troubles be sufficient for the day’ Worrying never does us any good. She had a habit of adding to her favorite verses. ‘What if’ is a useless pastime if I ever saw one.” She studied the downcast face. “Do you really want to get more schooling?”
    Penny nodded.
    Kaaren shifted on the quilt and stretched her back. Getting up was going to take three men and a team of horses. “Mange takk.” She took the plate handed to her and rested it on her shelf. At Penny’s grin, she smiled back. “Good for something it is, but you can be sure I won’t miss it.”
    “You think there is a way I could go on to school?”
    Kaaren nodded, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “Just let me talk to Ingeborg. We might be able to work something out.”
    Penny rose to her feet, eyes sparkling like sun-kissed wavelets. “Thank you, oh, thank you.”
    The young pup nephew of mine, if he were here, I would . . . I would . . . Nothing punishing enough came to mind. If he didn’t watch out, he might let this beautiful young woman get away from him. And it would serve him right.
    She tried to stretch out another twinge in her back. Laying a hand on her belly, she thought, This baby sure has been quiet today .
    After dinner she settled the little ones about her for naps, and letting her eyelids drift halfway closed, she listened to the men laughing and joking as they hoisted sod shoulder high. Two men climbed up in the wagon bed to position the latest load of sod bricks. They switched around again so the taller men were unloading the wagons and hefting up the new layers of sod as the walls grew higher. They’d already laid the thick boards over the door and window spaces and had stretched another layer of sod over those.
    Whitewash, she thought. If I whitewash the walls the children will feel brighter. It will be like having another window. How she wished for a wall of windows to let the out-of-doors come in, but with a soddy, that wasn’t to be. She shifted, discomfort making her squirm. A cramp started at her back and worked its way to the front.
    A child sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around