Further from Home (eBook)

DESPERATION

(Monday, 21 December 1891; Cavalier, North Dakota)

“He’s back!” Undina cried in panic.

“Don’t worry,” said Papa. “Just stay here with Sophie.”

“But Stephen is in the barn taking care of the animals,” said Undina. She took the long rifle from the wall and pointed it out the open window, ignoring the cold air. “If he goes near my boy, I swear I’ll shoot him.”

“I’ll take care of this,” her father said. The north wind blew through the door as he left the house.

She aimed the rifle at her husband’s chest and tightened her finger on the trigger. A light snow swirled about the dirt road in front of the house. Papa moved toward Jakob with an aggressive determination that Undina rarely saw.

“Momma,” said Sophie. The toddler pulled on her mother’s long black dress.

“It will be alright,” she said. “Nobody will ever hurt you.” Undina wiped tears from her eyes as she kept the rifle aimed at its target. Just pull the trigger, she thought to herself. But she waited to see if Papa could manage the situation. He’d always been there for her with his comfort and protection, yet things had never been this desperate. One false move and I’ll pull the trigger.

“I don’t think it’s good for you to be here,” said Papa as he walked to the wagon and looked up at Jakob. The younger man was dressed in the fashion of the day. His hair was cut short beneath his black bowler. He wore a dark three-piece suit with a close-fitting jacket, and a burgundy vest. Undina had never seen him so handsome. She started to smile and then caught herself, knowing she could never trust him again.

Jakob Lindal hesitated, considering his response carefully. He’d always respected Baldwin Helgason. Everybody respected him. But the relationship had grown formal in the past year since his separation from Undina. And in the past three months, since their oldest daughter’s death, it was cold and distant.

“I can go wherever I want,” Jakob said, climbing down from the wagon and facing the older man.

“No you can’t! This is not your property and you are not welcome here.” Though Papa was 25 years older than his son-in-law, he was taller and stronger. His long beard was gray, but he was rarely challenged.

“Where is my wife?”

Papa nodded toward the house.

Jakob looked at the rifle pointed at him. He stared into her steel blue eyes. Her hair flowed around her face and had a hint of gray now even though she was only thirty-three. Her arm was steady, her finger tight on the trigger. He saw she had grown stronger since he’d last seen her. This was no longer a woman he could bully or sweet talk into submission. He slowly backed up toward the wagon. Looking at the frosty ground, he twisted the tips of his carefully waxed mustache.

“Where are my children?” he said.

“Stephen is in the barn doing his chores and Sophie is in the house with her mother,” said Papa.

Jakob moved around him and started toward the barn.

“I think we need to talk,” said Papa, blocking his way.

“I want to see my children.”

“That’s not going to happen today,” said Papa, taking off his hat and turning it over in his hands.

“But they are my kids!”

“Please don’t raise your voice.”

“But this is not fair!” said Jakob. He’d lowered his voice but he kicked the dirt with his new black leather shoes, splattering mud and snow on his tweed pants. “She hasn’t let me see the kids in three months.”

“What did you expect?”

“But it was an accident.”

Mr. Helgason sighed. “It wasn’t an accident that you drank too much whiskey or that you lost your temper or that you beat the poor horse to the point Josey was trampled.” He wiped away a tear.

“I never expected that to happen,” Jakob said slowly, looking at the ground. “I loved Josey with all my heart. She was my firstborn. Don’t you think I would do anything I could to undo that evening? I loved her, I really did.”

“I’m sure you did.” Papa paused. “But your selfishness and pride got in your way.”

“I won’t argue with that. Every day I blame myself for what happened.”

“As you should, Jakob. As you should.”

“Didn’t Moses lose his temper and kill the Egyptian, but God gave him a second chance?”

“I’m sure God will give you a second chance,” said Papa. “But people aren’t always as gracious as God. She gave you many chances and then you took away Undina’s child. You’ve broken her heart.”

“I know, I know,” Jakob said.

“No, you don’t,” said Papa. “She’s given up on life. She’s lost her spirit. She rarely gets out of the house, except to go to the cemetery.”

“But that’s back in Gardar.”

“You know how when she gets an idea in her mind, nothing stops her,” said Papa. “I take her in the wagon every Saturday, rain or shine. It’s a long day, but she insists.”

“That can’t be good for her,” said Jakob. “Being there must remind her of our other lost children.”

“We stand at all three graves. And she places flowers on each one.”

“How can she do that? I don’t want to ever go back to that cemetery.”

“Undina says that it helps her heal,” said Papa.

“But doesn’t all this grieving make it worse? Don’t you just have to accept whatever life throws at you and move on?”

“Everyone grieves in their own way.” He placed his hand on Jakob’s shoulder. “I work so hard I don’t think about it. She thinks and cries and writes. Everyone has their own way.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what to do.”

“Sometimes there isn’t anything you can do. Sometimes you have to just let the good Lord do His work,” said Papa. “But right now showing up here isn’t going to speed things along.”

“But it’s been over seven weeks.”

“And it might take another seven weeks.”

“What if she never gets any better?”

“She is a Viking. She will recover. But we all have our breaking point.”

“I still love her. I know this is all my fault. I let alcohol and anger get the best of me. And my pride too. If I’d only been a better husband.”

“Just give her time. Healing doesn’t come quickly. It’s going to take time.”

“I understand,” said Jakob. “But could you tell her I’ve changed. I haven’t had a drink since the accident. And I don’t ever want to have one again. I’m turning over a new page. I really am.”

“I hope so, Jakob, for your own sake. But we’ve heard that promise too many times to believe it.”

“Emerson says it is important to make the most of yourself, for that is all there is of you. I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. And that’s what I really want to do.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ve got a lot of talent and ability,” said Papa. “But if you don’t start using what God has given you, you’ll never amount to anything.”

“This time is different.”

“Then you’ve got to make it different,” said Papa. “Remember that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Papa,” yelled Stephen as he ran from the barn through the shadowy twilight. He ran past his father and hid behind Papa.

“It’s Daddy,” Jakob said softly as he squatted down and reached out to him.

Stephen shook his head and clung to the back of Papa’s trousers.

The screen door creaked open and Undina stepped onto the front porch, the rifle still pointed at Jakob. “You take one step closer to the boy and I will kill you.”

“Alright,” he said. He stood up and moved away. “I just came to say I missed you.”

“I don’t care if you missed me,” she yelled. “Just leave us alone.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I never want to see you again.”

“But it’s almost Christmas.”

“I don’t care about Christmas!”

Stephen peeked around his grandfather. “You are a mean man,” he said to Jakob.

“I’m so sorry, son,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You hurt my sister. You hurt me. You hurt Momma. You hurt everybody.”

“Your sister was a beautiful young lady. I never meant to hurt her.”

“But you killed her.” Stephen stared at his father, gripping Papa’s leg.

“I love you, son. I really do. And I brought you and your little sister and your mother Christmas presents.” Jakob went to the wagon and handed two boxes wrapped in brown paper to Papa. “Those are for my wife and daughter.” He tossed the third one at Stephen’s feet.

The boy looked at the box and then ran to his mother, hiding his face in her long dress.

“It’s going to be alright,” she said, lowering the rifle for a moment and looking into her son’s bright blue eyes. They were full of fear. She held him close and felt the long white scar on his head, just below the hairline. Her mind went back to the time Jakob had knocked Stephen out of the wagon in drunken anger. “Don’t worry. Daddy will never hurt you again.”

“But what if he gets angry?”

“Papa is here.”

She followed her son into the house and set the rifle in the corner. She picked up Sophie and went to the window to watch Jakob who was still talking to Papa. Why doesn’t...