The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1) (11 page)

BOOK: The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1)
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CHAPTER TWELVE

When supper time arrived and Karlijna had not made an appearance, Ingrid decided it was time to wake her.

“Karlijna,” she stepped into th
e dark room, “it’s me – Ingrid. Would you like some supper?”

“I’m not hungry, Ingrid,” Karlijna’s voice sounded alert and not as though she had been weeping.

The older woman moved toward the sound and knelt beside the girl, “I heard what happened today, Karlijna.”

Silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now,” the girl didn’t sound angry, just worn.

“Shall I assume you will come to me if you need to talk?”

“Please, ask me again,” Karlijna suggested, “when I’m not so tired.”

“I’ll do that,” Ingrid rose from her position, “Can I bring you something to eat?”

The small laugh that escaped Karlijna’s lips surprised the older woman, “You have so little to do that you are going to begin serving my meals here while I wallow in the dark?”

Ingrid chuckled a little, “I think you are not one for wallowing, Karlijna. You are going to make it through this just fine.”

“I hope so,” a
sob choked the words.

Ingrid said no more to her, but exited quickly so she wouldn’t cry in Karlijna’s hearing.

Karlijna didn’t bother going to work the next day. She knew Mr. Sodergaard would find her when he was ready for her to return – if he ever would be ready for that.

It was Friday before he came.
Karlijna was working in the store when he entered, a solemn expression on his face.

“May I speak with you, Miss Bergstrom?”

“I will get Leif,” she answered as she turned to fetch her friend.

Leif
and Ingrid led Mr. Sodergaard and Karlijna to the living quarters.

“I am sorry it has come to this,” Mr. Sodergaard spoke as the four sat around the table.

“What do you mean, Roald?” Leif folded beefy arms across his wide chest, “You can stop these rumors and save Karlijna’s reputation. It is within your power to do so.”

Mr. Sodergaard looked to Karlijna, regret and a plea for forgiveness in his eyes, “I don’t think I can.”

Karlijna understood. She nodded, “I enjoyed working for you, Mr. Sodergaard,” her voice was soft and even kind, “I am sorry it had to end this way.”

Ingrid looked appalled, “You have the ability to put an end to her suffering and you won’t?” she rose and put her palms down on the table, leaning toward him, she was about to lambast him when Karlijna spoke again, softly, but with enough force to get their attention.

“Ingrid, stop.”

Leif
and Ingrid looked at her, astonished to see this young girl who was always so mild, assert herself.


We
know the truth,” her eyes filled with tears, but her voice did not waver.  “That is going to have to be sufficient. My character will have to speak for itself and, eventually, people will get tired of this and find other things to gossip about.”

Leif
growled, “He’s obviously protecting someone.”

“Yes,” Karlijna admitted, “he is.”

She looked at Mr. Sodergaard who shifted his gaze to the table.

Ingrid sat down and leaned her head against her husba
nd’s shoulder. Mr. Sodergaard rose and turned to go.

“I’m truly sorry,” he spoke while his back was turned to her.  “If there was any other way. . .”

Karlijna felt pity for this man, “Goodbye, Mr. Sodergaard.”

Karlijna looked to her friends, “Please do no
t let this harden your hearts. God is still good.”

Ingrid wiped at her eyes, “You are s
uch an example to me of patience in suffering.  I wouldn’t have been able to stand back and let them get away with that.”

Karlijna nodded, “I am going back to work.”

“You don’t have to do that, Karlijna,” Leif spoke up, his voice hoarse.

“I do,” she protested quietly, “I must keep my hands busy to still my heart.”

The girl left the room, but the couple sat in silence for a time. Ingrid finally rose to go back to the store, but Leif, noticing something for the first time, told her he would come along later.

When the door had shut behind his wife,
Leif put the coffee pot on the stove and sat back down in the kitchen chair.

“You may as well join me in here, Micha
el. The light is better in here than it is out in the sitting room.”

Michael looked a little guilty as he stepped from the shadows, “Uncle
Leif,” he greeted, “how are you?”

Leif
quirked an eyebrow, “I’ve had better days. You?”

Michael took a seat and leaned back
casually, “I’m still deciding. What was that about?”

Leif
shook his head, “I don’t think I can say.”

Michael didn’t reply.
He didn’t want to encourage gossip, but he was concerned about what he had heard.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Please,” the young man watched his uncle rise to prepare the beverage, “Is Karlijna in danger?”

Leif
shook his head, “Not physical.”

“Someone’s been spreading stories?”

Leif startled at how close the man had come to the truth. He turned and eyed him, but Michael’s face gave nothing away.

Leif
poured the coffee and sat down, “She wouldn’t appreciate me talking about her behind her back. She’s had enough of that.”

Michael took a sip of the scalding liquid in front of him, “I heard the stories.”

Leif’s eyes widened, “How?”

“Uncle Torkel,” the young man replied.

“Torkel repeated that slander?” Leif was incensed.

“No,” Michael scoffed at the idea, “he told me she was having some troubles
, and I hung around the dock long enough to find out the rest.”

“Very clever,” his uncle commented drily.

“This man could clear her name?”

Leif
shrugged, “Apparently.”

“He won’t because it will get someone else into trouble.”

“That’s what I assume,” Leif shook his head.  “That girl has more love for her fellow humans than anyone else I know. After what she’s been through, I don’t know how. . .”

The two men sat in silence for a while.

“What are you going to do to help her?”

“I don’t know, Michael,”
Leif scrubbed at his forehead with both hands as if that would stimulate ideas, “She thinks the whole thing will pass over, but I’m not sure.”

“You think your business will suffer for having her here?”

Leif stood quickly, “That wouldn’t change my opinion or treatment of her,” his voice was loud.

Michael waved his uncle back into his seat, “I never thought it would.  But,” he speared the other man with a look, “it would change whether she was willing to stay.”

Leif turned his back and poured another cup of coffee, “I know.”

“Is there anywhere we can send her?”

Leif looked at his nephew like the boy had grown a second head, “Like where?”

Michael shrugged, “How about to your cousin up in Malmberget?”

Leif shook his head as he sat down, “No. He’s single. That wouldn’t be a good situation.”

Michael agreed, especially given the present circumstance.

“How did all your siblings and cousins end up staying in the same village?” Michael demanded, “Didn’t anyone have a desire to travel?  See the world?”

Leif
laughed, “Just your mother, and look where that got her. America.”

Michael smiled.
He was glad his mother had taken that step; his parents were very happy together.

“I don’t suppose,”
Leif pondered, but then shook his head dismissively.

“What?” Michael was interested.

“I wonder how hard it would be to get Karlijna to your mother.”

“My mother?  Why?”

Leif tipped the chair, balancing on the back two legs, “She needs to get away. She needs to get as far from this war as possible. To heal.”

Michael was incredulous, “You think sending her across the ocean to a land where she knows nobody is going to help her heal?”

              “I’m going to see what I can do,” he sat down with a thud.

             
“You’re not going to get her visa approved any time soon,” was Michael’s helpful comment.

             
He was roundly ignored as Leif went to his desk and began shuffling through papers.

             
“Does she have any papers at all?” the young man watched with interest as his uncle appeared to light on a certain piece of paper.

             
Leif shook his head, “I’m sure she doesn’t. That can’t stop us, Boy. We’re on a mission.”

             
Michael had to laugh at his uncle’s determined tone, “What is that mission, exactly?”

             
“To get Karlijna to Sigrid.”

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

As it turned out, nothing was accomplished along that line before Michael had to return to duty.  His visits were erratic, sometimes occurring with no warning or being canceled suddenly, so
Leif had no accomplice in his actions. This did not deter the man. 

Each day that passed saw him more resolved to ge
t Karlijna away from the area. Some of Leif’s customers were beginning to snub the girl. She had been unable to find other work, so Leif rehired her at the store. She must have known he did not need full time help, but, when she could find nothing else, she had no option but to accept his offer.

Every week, she took a day to search for a job but to no
avail. The horrid lies had infiltrated the small village, becoming worse instead of dissipating. It was no longer a secret from Leif who had started them, but, out of respect for Karlijna, he said nothing.

“I’m going to work in the back room today,
Leif,” Karlijna told him that morning. “I think it needs to be cleaned.”

“Oh?” he was not accust
omed to his help dictating her own tasks.

“Yes,” she didn’t say anymore, but went to sort the boxes in storage.

Leif looked to his wife for explanation.

“She heard someone tell me yesterday they wouldn’t shop here anymore as long as she was here.”

Leif’s blood boiled, “We can do without business like that.”

“Please,
Leif,” she shushed him, “don’t raise your voice. Do you know how hurt she would be?”

Leif
was forced to postpone the rest of the conversation due to a steady stream of customers.  Ordinarily, he would be thankful for the business, but just now, he was praying for a break.

He didn’t get that break until the store closed for the night, but he got something better.

“Look who’s here, Leif,” Torkel walked through the door with Michael.

“I am glad to see you,” the man greeted his nephew.

Michael, remembering his last visit and Leif’s plan, was wary.

“Come into the sitting room.
I have some things to discuss with you.”

Torkel tagged along, wondering what his brother wanted with Michael.

“Here’s what I found out.”

Leif
laid out the plan for his brother and nephew.

Torkel, having just hear
d about it now, was surprised. Michael, even knowing Leif was concocting something still was flabbergasted.

“It isn’t going to work, Uncle
Leif,” he protested.  “You’ll never get them to believe. . .”

“Shh,”
Leif hissed as Karlijna came into the room.

“Michael,” she sat down beside Torkel, “how nice to see you.”

Michael’s smile looked a little strained as he replied in kind.

Karlijna had thought Ingrid was crazy when she told the girl to come keep an eye on the men.

“They’re up to something,” the lady had said as she pushed her toward the sitting room.  “If you can’t find out what it is, at least keep them from mischief.”

Now, Karlijna imagined Ingrid had been right.

“Have you any interesting stories to tell this visit, Michael?” she asked, trying not to notice Leif’s pointed looks aimed at his nephew.

Michael gave her a half-smile and shook his head, “Not really.”

“How strange,” she commented before turning to Torkel, “How about you Captain Anderson?  How close did you come to being caught?”

Torkel looked as though he couldn’t process the question. 

When she sat smiling expectantly at him, he finally responded.

“What did you say?”

“I said,” she smiled sweetly, “how close did you come to being caught last night? Or when I came into the room?”

All three men looked sharply at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Caught?  At what?”

“We weren’t doing anything.”

The
y all spoke at once. She smiled and rose.

“I think Ingrid knows a thing or two,” the girl observed as she exited the room, “but she’ll have to dis
cover your secrets on her own. I’m going to peel carrots.”

Karlijna didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but while she and the other women prepared supper she heard several strange remarks and couldn’t help but wonder if they were referring to her.

“She’ll never agree to that.”

“She doesn’t need. . .”

“My mother. . .”

“What if. . .”

Karlijna determined to ignore the men. She forced a smile to her lips and turned to Torkel’s wife, “Kaaren, how has business been?”

“Fine, fine,” the woman continued chopping as she sniffed, “This is a good ti
me of year for selling cheese. Everybody wants it for their holiday celebrations.”

In an act of compassion, Karlijna reached over and took the vegetable from the Kaaren, blinking her eyes against the gatherin
g tears, “I’m glad to hear it. My father would have been your best customer if he were here. He and my brother love cheese.”

Kaaren wiped her eyes on the corner of her apron, “I’m sorry,” she sniffled again, “I can’t seem to stop these tears.

Ingrid put her hands on her hips and looked at the other two in mock dismay, “What a sight the two of you make, blubbering all over supper.”

Karlijna giggled at this, needing to stop her task, “I can’t see, I’m crying so hard.”

Kaaren’s laughter shook her solid frame.

“Give me that thing,” Ingrid scoffed at the other two, “there is a technique
, and the two of you have obviously never been taught the fine art of chopping an onion.”

Karlijna, as interested as she was in this supposed method,
could not focus on the woman. The remaining smell burned her eyes and nose so badly that she had to blink continually to keep from sobbing in earnest.

Ingrid gave one definiti
ve chop to the offending food. Then there was a pause.

“Mercy,” the woman gasped, “that is one potent onion.”

The other two women collapsed into gales of laughter at the table.

“I guess,” Ingrid spoke between bouts, once she could gain her breath, “I could use a lesson on that technique myself.”

Supper preparations had to take a back seat to the hilarity in the kitchen. All three cooks were on the verge of hysterics when Torkel came in to see what the commotion was about.

“What is going on in here?” his eyes
took in the three teary women. “What is wrong with all of you?”

The women didn’t answer, but laughed harder, their reactions feeding their own amusement.

Leif and Michael joined the Captain. The women tried to explain, but couldn’t string two coherent words together. 

“I was. . .” Kaaren explaine
d with a hiccup.  She laughed, “And then Karlijna was. .” a snort and a gasp for breath, “her job was. . .”

“No,” Ingrid tried to compose herself, “you see what happened,” she looked at the other two and buried her face in her hands, convulsing with mirth.

After minimal effort they gave up. The men looked at each other and back at the women. For several long moments they looked at the women.

Finally, the ladi
es’ laughter began to subside. They dabbed at their eyes with apron corners.

“Were you. . .crying about something?” Michael was the first man to voice what all three were wondering.

Ingrid laughed again, but in a more controlled manner, “No, we were laughing.” She wiped her hands down the front of her apron and, pushing the onion far from her, resumed peeling carrots.

“Laughing?”
Leif looked skeptical, “At what?”

Karlijna, in front of whom the smelly vegetable had come to rest, used a wooden spoon to subtly move it toward Kaaren, “You wouldn’t understand.”

Kaaren took a deep breath and bravely held the knife over the onion.

Leif
scratched his head and looked at the three, now mostly composed, “You weren’t into the cooking sherry were you?”

The women give way to their amusement again
, and the men, seeing that supper was going to be a while, left for a walk.

Following a late meal, Karlijna began to clear the table.

“Karlijna,” Leif spoke up, “leave those dishes.  I’ll help Ingrid clean up.”

This wasn’t an unusual request so Karlijna nodded and w
iped her hands on a dishtowel. She was prepared to go read the Bible Ingrid had lent her, but Leif’s voice stopped her, “You’ve been cooped up in the house and store all day. Why don’t you and Michael go for a walk?”

Karlijna looked wide-eyed at the man
and then at his wife. Ingrid was no help as she was staring open-mouthed at her husband.

Michael rose quickly from his seat, “Shall I get your coat for you?”

Karlijna dumbly shook her head, “No, thank you. I’ll get it myself.”

She arrived back in the kitchen, clad in winter wear to find Michael dressed to go outside, waiting patiently.

On the young people’s exit, Karlijna heard Ingrid whisper furiously to her husband, but could not discern the words.

“I’m sorry you have to take me for a walk, Michael,” the young girl spoke almost immediately.  “I’m certain it was not your deepest desire to be out in the cold tonight.” She spoke in Swedish because it had become natural to her.

Michael stopped, “Actually, Karlijna,” he responded in English, “it was my idea.”

Karlijna looked up at her friend, “Why?”

“I need to talk to you about your situation with my uncle, and I wanted it to be in private.”

Karlijna felt a heaviness settle on her shoulders, “My situation?”

“Yes,” he began walking again.

“You see,” he began, a serious tone in his voice, “I know what happened with your last job.”

Karlijna barely held back a cry of dismay. Michael feared for the reputation of his family and he was going to ask her to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Karlijna’s voice cut through the cold wind.

“You’re sorry?” Michael sounded confused, “What have you to be sorry for?”

“For. . .for,” Karlijna thought hard, “I guess f
or dirtying your family’s name. They are well respected here, and the scandal surrounding me has made them look bad.”

Michael stopped again and firm hands gripped her uppe
r arms, “That is not the truth. You have done nothing wrong.”

Karlijna said nothing. 

Michael leaned closer, “You realize that, don’t you? You have behaved better than anyone in this.”

“Thank you,” Karlijna accepted the compliment and resumed walking.

Michael didn’t follow her for a few moments, but he quickly hurried to catch up.

“I have a solution for you,” he offered.

“A solution? To make the gossip stop?  To give me back my reputation?”

Michael heard no malice in those words, only sorrow.

“I wish I could,” his voice sincere, “but I can’t.”

“I thought it would have ended by now,” Karlijna admitted.  “It has been nearly two months.”

“I can’t stop it, but I can get you out of here,” Michael spoke quickly as if he needed to get it out and be done with it.

“Get me out of here?” the girl kept walking, though she was peering through the dimness at her companion.

“Yes,” he stopped her and put his gloved hands to her shoulders, “I can send you to my parents in Minnesota.”

“You want to
send me away? To America?” it was too much for Karlijna to take in.

Michael tipped his head up and looked at the sky.

Karlijna was so confused, she just stared at him, waiting for him to explain.

“I’m not trying to send you away,” he began.

“Does Leif know about this?”

“Yes,” he answered, but immediately followed with, “and he isn’t trying to send you away either.”

“Then why?  I don’t know anyone in America. I would be homesick.”

“You have been through so much in your short life, Karlijna,” the man spoke tenderly.  “We just want to make things as easy as possible for you.”

“But my English is so bad.”

Michael laughed, “It isn’t
bad, but if that worries you, you can speak Swedish with my parents.  Or German, even.”

Karlijna could not process the information.

Michael turned them back toward Leif’s house, “You do not have to tell me now. Just let Torkel know when you have made a decision, and he can help get the paperwork started.”

They arrived bac
k at the kitchen door shortly. Michael began to open it for her, but she stopped him.

“I do no
t need time to think, Michael. I will accept your offer. It is not right that your uncle should suffer for me.”

BOOK: The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1)
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