Free Deep Harbor by Lisa T. Bergren Page B

up for a visit since I was in this part of the territory.”
    “Well, it’s good to see you, man. Come out and share a meal with us before you leave.”
    “For sure, Einar.” He glanced up to see Pastor Konur Lien approach. “And I’ll have to get a church service in too,” he said with a grin, shaking the pastor’s hand.
    “You had
better
intend to do so,” Konur said. “It’s so good to see another Bergenser’s face!”
    “For you? Think about me! You’re surrounded. Why, you have half a congregation from Bergen here, pastor.”
    “And the other half is from the community. God has been gracious.”
    “I’m glad to hear it. Dakota Territory didn’t work out, I take it.”
    “Hard going, there. Dry soil. Just when we got decent crops to harvest, the locusts came. I took it as a sign from God. So far, it has been a wise decision to come here. Going on four years now. And we’re all alive and healthy. Many of our people have growing farms.”
    “I’m pleased to know it is so,” Karl said. “Now I had better secure a room for the night. I’ll be by to catch up with you and Amalia, pastor. As well as for Sunday services.”
    “Good enough, Karl. God bless you.”
    Karl paused a moment as Konur left his side. It struck him that it had been years since he had set foot inside a Christian sanctuary, and again, his father’s warning rang in his ears. When he had left Peder, it was as if he had forgotten about God too. He hadn’t prayed or sought out God’s guidance as he once had. How hypocritical of him—to greet his old pastor as if nothing had changed!
    When everything had. When he had.
    After renting a gentle, strong mare from the local stables, Karl rode out Main Street dead east, as Kaatje had directed. He had bathed that afternoon in lukewarm water and secured his belongings in a decent room, if a bit run-down. Better than the pleasure of being clean again was the comfort of a small town, a small town where friends surrounded him. It was a picturesque evening, with long, warm streaks of sunlight edging through the plants and grain as if directfrom heaven. And for the first time in a long while Karl felt some sense of peace.
    When he reached the Janssens’ farm and turned onto their lane, the girls ran out to greet him, barefoot, but with their Sunday dresses on, if he guessed right. They gave him bright smiles, and Karl was a bit startled at the physical differences in the two. He hadn’t noticed how dissimilar the two sisters were when he had seen them in town. It puzzled him. But both were cute as buttons and sweet as honey, as Brad would say.
    “Is this the Janssen farm?” he asked, when they arrived at his side, a bit breathless. He pretended not to recognize them as they nodded madly, their eyes big. “Well, I was a bit confused when I saw such pretty young ladies come to greet me. Here I thought you were just two little mites!”
    “No, sir,” Christina said. “I’m almost six years old.”
    “Six! Why that’s practically ancient. Have you heard of the great pyramids?”
    Christina shook her head in confusion.
    “Well, they’re what we consider
old
. But they can’t be more than a few years older than you.”
    “How old are
you?”
Jessie asked.
    Karl laughed. How long had it been since he had stopped to think about how old he was? Birthdays had come and gone, with little or no recognition from him or any of his friends. “Almost thirty, I believe.”
    “Thirty!” Jessie cried.
    “No, don’t be so surprised,” he said, nodding at Kaatje as she came to the front door. “Why, I’d bet your mother was almost that age.”
    “Mama, are you thirty?” Christina asked. She ran to her and took her hand.
    “I hope not. No, I think I have a couple of years.”
    Karl dismounted, tied the reins of his horse outside the house, and walked toward Kaatje. “Interesting how someone’s age is vital when you’re young, and not so interesting once you’re old.”
    “Tell me about