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He waved the crust of bread she’d spread with jam and set at his plate.
    She knew they’d probably have to wash a sticky mess out of his blond curls, but his joy at the treat made the extra effort worth it. “Can you say thank you?” She carefully enunciated the English since he was already picking up Norwegian. While they all had decided to use their new language as much as they could, Norwegian still came so much easier to their lips.
    “Tank oo,” he obliged.
    “We saw Wolf when we were out with the sheep,” nearly-nineyear-old Thorliff said as he took his filled plate from his mother. “Baptiste said he hadn’t been around for a while.”
    The boy beside him, about the same age but with the black eyes and matching hair of his French-Canadian and Lakota-Indian ancestry, nodded. His people were called Metiz, the name they all used for his grandmother, with whom he lived in a tepee on the riverbank during the warm season.
    “Is that usual?” Kaaren asked, passing him his full plate.
    Baptiste shook his head. “Grandmere was afraid he might have gone to the Great Spirit. He never goes away for more than a day or two.”
    “Was he hurt?” Haakan swallowed his mouthful of stew before asking.
    Baptiste shook his head.
    “It’s still hard for me to believe a wolf is one of our guardians here. Those in the North Woods were feared, probably more than they deserved to be.” Haakan had walked across Minnesota at his mother’s bidding to assist the two Bjorklund widows in their farming, never dreaming he would marry one and become a flatland farmer. And the Red River Valley defined the word flat, for sure. On the trip he’d slept in a tree one night to stay safe from the wolves he heard howling nearby.
    “Wolf saved our sheep one night from a whole pack of wolves,”Thorliff answered. “He killed some of the wild ones, and the others ate them.”
    “Thorliff, that’s not a good thing to talk about at the dinner table,” Ingeborg said, then took her place after having served everyone and refilled the coffee mugs.
    “Well, he did.”
    “I know, but just because it is true does not make the subject good for talking at mealtime.”
    “Would you rather talk about the barn raising?” Haakan asked with a grin.
    Ingeborg flashed him a raised right eyebrow.
    Kaaren smiled and forked a piece of meat to her mouth. This discussion had gone on before and got plenty heated when Haakan said he wanted to build a wood house before winter. Ingeborg said if they were going to build anything, it should be a barn. The four of them had gone back and forth for several meals, until Haakan had finally thrown his hands in the air and shook his head in defeat.
    “I thought you hated the soddy in the winter and wanted light. I’m trying to give you light, woman.”
    Ingeborg flinched and swallowed the words she’d obviously intended to add to the argument. “I’m sorry, but the barn is so much more important. I can endure another winter in the soddy when I know we have room for the animals.”
    Kaaren knew that was as close as Ingeborg would come to a real apology. Here the man had been trying to do something nice for her.
    “That’s your choice, then. How about tonight we figure how much lumber we are going to need and have it brought to the train station at Grafton? Faster to get there now than to St. Andrew.”
    “Ja, and no river to cross hauling the loads home.” Lars nodded and reached for another slice of bread.
    “Can we go with and see the train?” asked Thorliff, sharing a look of excitement with Baptiste.
    “We will see.”
    “Me see train.” Andrew banged his spoon on the table. “See train.”
    “You don’t even know what a train is,” Thorliff said.
    “Thorliff.” At his mother’s remonstrance, the boy ducked his chin. “Maybe we could all go with one load and see the town. I heardthe general store there has far more things than the Mercantile in St. Andrew.”
    “Yes, thanks to the railroad. You