A New Day Rising by Lauraine Snelling Read Free Book Online

a skillet on the stove. Before many minutes passed with the two men visiting, she had a plate of chicken and dumplings in front of him, along with bread and butter and a pitcher of milk.
    "And if'n you go hungry after Agnes is done serving, you got no one but yourself to blame,"Joseph said. Turning to the children who stood staring shyly at Haakan, he ordered in a kind voice, "You young'uns get to bed, now. Mr. Bjorklund will still be here in the morning."
    The sun had made it halfway to the peak when he left in the morning, much to his host family's sorrow. Haakan made sure each of the children had a peppermint stick to remember him by. Agnes clutched a small packet of coffee beans to her breast as if he'd given her gold and diamonds.
    "You go on straight east now. Just follow the track. Runs right into Ingeborg's. Kaaren's house is a bit to the north. I could give you a ride, you know."

    I know. Thank you for everything." Haakan waved a last time and strode out the track. Two wheel ruts had cut through the prairie grass and down to the dirt. He walked on the ridge in the middle to keep from slipping in the mud.
    The sun warmed his shoulders, trying to make up for the snow and rain. Overhead, a V of ducks beat their way northward, their quacking a wild music on the breeze. Brave shoots of green showed on the places where the snow had melted away. The trees along the banks of the Red River edged the horizon so flat Haakan wasn't able to tell how far away they really were.
    Never had he seen such flat land. Like a tabletop, it spread far as the eye could see in all directions. To the south a spiral of smoke told of an intrepid homesteader and ahead another. Thanks to the Baards, he now had an idea what life had been like for the two missus Bjorklunds in the last year. Blizzards in the winter, and breaking sod, planting, and harvesting in the summer. How had they endured without bolting back to town?
    As the sod house and barn came into view, only the smoke feathering from the chimney said someone was home. Not far to the north lay the second sod house and barn like Baard had said. A caramel-colored dog with one ear straight up and the other flopped forward charged out from behind the barn and barked three times. He stood with one white front paw raised, his tail fanning the breeze. He barked again, more insistent this time.
    "Paws!" a boy's voice called. The dog looked over his shoulder and wagged his tail again.
    The boy came round the corner of the sod barn, followed by a woman carrying a small, gowned child with near-white ringlets on her hip. Her hair caught the sun and gleamed like a crown of gold. Tall and straight, she strode toward him, her welcoming smile warm as the spring sun.
    Haakan caught his breath. So this was ingeborg Bjorklund. Nothing anyone said had prepared him for this vision of a Viking queen.

    Early April
1 od dag. Mrs. Bjorklund?" J .
    "Ja.,,
    "I am Haakan Howard Bjorklund, recently of Minnesota." He set his ax on the toe of his boot and removed his hat. "My mor wrote from Norway and said one of our relatives needed a hand. Since logging was done for the season, I came to see if I could help."
    "You have the same name as us." Eight-year-old Thorliff stepped forward and looked up-way up. Tall for his age and already showing signs of future broad shoulders, the boy held his ground. Hair that couldn't decide between white gold and deep blond, whether to curl or lie straight, fell in one swatch over his right eye in spite of the porkpie hat that should have kept it in place. Pants and shirt showed thin wrists and ankles of winter white.
    "Ja, your father is my cousin twice removed." Haakan felt as if he looked into a mirror when he saw the boy's eyes.
    "Was," Ingeborg said softly.
    "1 know." He looked into her eyes, seeing the sheen of unshed tears. "I'm sorry."
    Ingeborg nodded. "I have the coffee hot, and dinner is nearly ready. Would you like to join us?" She laid a hand on the head of the boy who