The Reaper's Song by Lauraine Snelling Read Free Book Online Page B

frozen ground, Goodie had been able to put her Elmer under the sod, freeing her from a heavy burden of grief. Now Ingeborg knew she would mightily miss working and visiting every day with her friend when she left. They’d become part of the family. The good Lord surely had been merciful to them all.
    Andrew and Ellie skidded to a stop in front of her. “Ma, can we go find Thorliff and the sheep?”
    “I thought maybe you would like to take a water jug out to yourpa and ride the horses in when they come for dinner. Tante Kaaren will be ringing the dinner bell before too long.”
    Andrew, blue eyes sparkling above rosy cheeks, turned to his playmate. “You want to come?”
    Ellie, her hair bleached pure white by the sun, nodded, setting her pigtails to flopping. “I can carry the jug for Onkel Lars.”
    “There’s some buttermilk in the springhouse. Why don’t you take that too? Nothing like buttermilk to quench their thirst.”
    As the two scampered off to their errand, Goodie shook the snapped beans into her basket from Ingeborg’s skirt. “I better be get-tin’ over to help Kaaren with the dinner. We got enough here for that and more. You going back to picking?”
    Ingeborg nodded. “We should have a boilerful soon.” With the three stoves going, they could cook the meals at one place, can at another, and have the diapers boiling at the last. Four in diapers meant plenty to wash, about every other day. Kaaren’s twin girls, Grace and Sophie, were running around, Sophie caring for her deaf sister. Grace had been born without hearing, a severe trial for the younger couple, although more so for Lars. He still struggled sometimes against ignoring the silent twin, favoring her chattering sister.
    “The big boys will be helping with the picking this afternoon, ja?”
    “We’ll let Baptiste run the fish trap so Metiz has plenty of fish to keep drying, and he can check the trapline too.” Ingeborg knew she was getting spoiled with the extra help, but there still were never enough hands to do all that needed doing. Thanks to the boys’ hunting and the leftovers from last year’s smoking, they hadn’t had to butcher anything but chickens.
    She heard the shriek of a hawk flying above and automatically checked the chicken yard. The hens had heard the same cry and were flapping their way into the hen house to safety. They didn’t realize Haakan had stretched chicken wire over the top of the pen, preventing marauding hawks from helping themselves.
    “You want I should help you pick the beans?” Olaf tamped the remains of his smoke from the pipe and ground the ashes into the dirt with his heel. “Or does anyone need more wood chopped?”
    “Olaf, you are such a kindhearted man. I know you’d rather be with Goodie, so you two go on. Kaaren has plenty needing to be done over there.” Ingeborg brushed the black flies away from her now slumbering daughter. Astrid looked as if sleep had caught her midrock. Her bottom stuck up and tiny fists pillowed her rightcheek. Golden curls lay against her damp scalp. If the flies weren’t so fierce, she’d be tempted to let her sleep as she was. Instead, Ingeborg picked up the sheet on the fence and fluttered it down over the sleeping child, face and all. While she’d get warmer that way, she’d be protected from the flies and the sun by the cotton material.
    Ingeborg took her now empty basket and headed for the bean rows. Sitting still never got the work done. The letter crinkled in her apron pocket. She would read it to the others over the dinner table.
    When the triangle clanged for dinner, she kept on picking, knowing it would take some time for the men to make it in from the fields and for the boys to come from grazing the flock of sheep. Today Hans, Goodie’s ten-year-old son, would stay out with the sheep. The three boys took turns when they could.
    Ingeborg thought longingly of taking the gun and setting up along the deer trail about twilight. They hadn’t had