A Promise for Ellie Read Online Free Page B

affectionately,
Augusta Bjorklund Moyer
    Ingeborg sighed and refolded the letter. Having the entire family here would have been nice for a change. Doesn’t Augusta understand her mother is getting up in years? After the last spell that Bridget had, Ingeborg had come to the realization that her mother-in-law might not live forever, in spite of her protestations to the otherwise. Bridget did not appreciate any advice suggesting she slow down%. When guests came to her boardinghouse, they expected good food, a clean bed, and a cheerful time. She was known far beyond the outskirts of Blessing since Henry Aarsgard, her husband of nearly ten years, had been a railroad man. He always said it was her cooking that caught his attention and her smile that caught his heart.
    Ingeborg’s knees creaked when she stood up. She shook her head. Her coronet of braids was not as bright as when she was younger but was still thick and her husband’s delight, especially when, sitting on the edge of their bed, she let the braids down and brushed her requisite one hundred strokes a night.
    Something nagged at her.
    “Uff da, I’m getting to be an old woman, forgetting things, creaking when I walk. What was it I said I’d do?” Lines deepened on her forehead and between her eyebrows. She pulled the coffeepot to the hotter part of the stove. Perhaps a cup of coffee would revive her memory.
    She checked the bread baking in the oven, not quite brown enough, and glanced over at the pies waiting to be put in the oven. She’d used the last of the dried apples, and the two pie shells would be used for chocolate cream, Andrew’s favorite. While everyone in Blessing would share the dinner after the graduation ceremony, she wanted some left here for their personal celebration.
    Barney barked a welcome, the tone saying it was someone he knew.
    Ingeborg changed her apron and went to the door. “Elizabeth, what a wonderful surprise.” Her daughter-in-law smiled and waved, then stepped carefully down from the buggy. While she’d said the baby wasn’t due for another month, her girth said otherwise. But in the family way or not, Dr. Elizabeth Bjorklund had not slacked on her medical practice one bit.
    “I was hoping you had the coffee on. I’m in dire need of your outhouse and then sustenance.” She tied her horse’s lead rope to the hitching rail in front of the white picket fence that surrounded the white two-story farmhouse. “The Swenson baby came with no trouble, a boy big enough to start crawling next week. That woman’s pelvis must be made of elastic, the way she has such big babies so easily.”
    “I’ll pour your coffee. Will a sandwich be enough, or should I warm some soup too?”
    “Yes to all the above. Uff da.” Elizabeth smiled at adopting one of Ingeborg’s Norwegian expressions. She massaged her lower back as she made her way around the house and followed the well-worn path to the privy.
    She’ll not go another month, Ingeborg thought as she turned back into the house. Doctor or not, she will have that baby when it is ready to come . She smiled to herself. While she was still called to assist some births, Dr. Elizabeth did most of them nowadays. The people of Blessing and the surrounding area felt great relief at having a boardcertified doctor in their midst, taking much of the pressure off Ingeborg, who’d used her gifts of healing for anyone who called her. Her doctoring began when she and her first husband, Roald Bjorklund, staked out their homestead near the confluence of the Red and Little Salt rivers in the spring of 1880.
    Ingeborg went out to the well house, where they kept things cool, and brought in the kettle of soup she’d made the day before. Since it was time to begin dinner anyway, she’d have a bit of a jump on the preparations. Soup along with bread right out of the oven—dinner fit for a king, or queen, as in this case.
    She shaded her eyes to see Haakan and his team out plowing the acreage he’d been