Dakota Plains - 02 - Dakota Dream by Lauraine Snelling

Author:Lauraine Snelling [Snelling, Lauraine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781618431837
Google: c_6jEZeSHZYC
Amazon: 1618431838
Goodreads: 1820285
Publisher: eChristian
Published: 1993-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Clara woke with the same thought. As she hurried through her morning ablutions, she ignored the gray skies without and the gray cloud within. How could someone have mistreated a young boy so? Especially the woman who agreed to be his mother.

And what could be done now?

No wonderful solutions had come to her during the night. Was she expecting too quick an answer to her prayers? She brushed her hair, frustration lending vigor to her brush strokes. Mrs. Norgaard said she’d been praying for years . . . and nothing. The lilt had left Clara’s voice when she answered the summoning bell. Along with the snap in her step.

Shortly after dinner, the doorbell pealed. Clara wiped her hands on her apron and hurried down the paneled hall between the kitchen and the front entry. It was probably the doctor needing a cup of coffee during his daily round.

“Ingeborg!” Clara reached out to draw her guest inside and instead found herself enveloped in a hug that immediately made her think of Mor. “Come in, come right on in.”

“I hope I’m not intruding. John agreed to stay home with the little ones while they napped and so here I am.” Ingeborg unbuttoned her coat and let Clara remove it from her shoulders and hang the heavy black wool on the coat tree.

“I’m afraid Mrs. Norgaard might be asleep. She had a busy morning.” She led the way into the parlor. “I’ll go see and be right back.”

“No, I came to talk with you.” Ingeborg took a seat on the brown velvet sofa and patted the surface beside her. “‘For, you see, I have an absolutely marvelous idea and I need your help.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I am thinking of starting a class to teach English to those Norwegians who just immigrated.”

“Like me?” Clara put a hand to her chest.

“Yes.” Ingeborg gave a bounce on the slippery sofa.

“Wouldn’t you love to be able to speak and read the language of your new country?”

“Ja, for sure that I would.” A cloud dimmed the rising excitement in her eyes. “But how could I leave Mrs. Norgaard?”

“I think that can be arranged. I just kept thinking what a struggle Nora had had and I know many others feel cut off because they can’t talk easily—”

“That’s it!” Clara clasped her hands and buried them in her apron between her knees.

“What? Tell me what?”

“You said anyone who needs help with talking?”

Ingeborg nodded.

Clara turned to face her friend. “Even though he—I mean, they, might have lived around here all their lives.”

“I hadn’t thought to include someone like that, but, of course.” Ingeborg’s brow wrinkled in concentration.

“Dag Weinlander.” Clara leaned against the back of the sofa. “Ingeborg, you are the answer to my prayers.”

“I’m glad to hear that since you aren’t making a lick of sense.”

“What do you know of Dag Weinlander?”

Ingeborg rolled her eyes upward and pursed her lips. “Not a great deal, I must admit. He doesn’t come to church or any of the town socials. Besides, I have never found him to be very friendly when I’ve met with him anywhere.

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