Read An Untamed Heart for Free Online Page A

coming her way from Mor. She was sure to hear more later, after the men left.
    “Berta, you take over churning the butter. As soon as we get the garden plowed and run over with the disk, we can all go out there to rake and plant.”
    “You would do better to wait a day or two. It is time to wash all the bedding and hang it out in the sun to dry.”
    She looked to Mor, who wore the sour expression so often associated with her oldest daughter.
    “Katrina and Berta can do that. We have to get the garden started while we have nice weather.” Ingeborg almost flinched. That was why they were to do the bedding today.
    Mor glared at her but didn’t say any more.
    Ingeborg knew she would pay for the victory later. Why did Mor dislike her so? What had she ever done to deserve her being angry all the time? Whom could she ask? Since Katrina was preparing for her wedding in June, she had been relieved of many other house duties to finish her linens and things for her chest—the beautiful chest Far had made for her. Katrina was doing what Mor wanted. Ingeborg blew out a sigh. She never had been able to just do what she was told. Sometimes . . . sometimes . . . She picked up a piece of firewood and stoked the fire with several vicious jabs of the poker.
    A short time later, Ingeborg and Hjelmer escaped to the barn. They would harness the lighter of the two teams for the garden work. Ah, spring. The horses were shedding pounds of hair. It rose in clouds around them.
    There was always a challenge between the three Strand families as to who would get their garden in first. The Arne Strand family had won last year and Ingeborg intended to make that two years in a row.
    “I didn’t think Far would say yes.” Hjelmer stood on a stool to set the collar over the team’s withers. He’d not begun to get his growth yet, something that Ingeborg knew worried him. Gilbert of course had his full height, but Hjelmer still wore the look of a boy, slender and not even as tall as Ingeborg by any means. Most of the Strand men wore their height proudly—all but Hjelmer, who was the shortest of the male cousins his age too.
    “You know Far would never say this, but he wants to beat his two brothers in the garden race as bad as I want to.”
    “Mor thinks the race is silly,” Hjelmer said.
    “I know, but you have to admit that making a game of it makes the hard work more enjoyable.”
    “I get to plow too?” Hjelmer hopped up on the stool again to check on the horse’s rump, making certain that there would be no chafing under the crupper.
    “Thank you for checking for rubbing,” she said. “I forgot.” His grin and quick nod rewarded her. She suggested, “Let me drive the first rows and you try the next?”
    Hjelmer nodded. “If I can reach the plow handles well enough.”
    “If not, we’ll do it together.” The look of gratitude he sent her made Ingeborg glad she was paying attention. They hitched the team up to the plow, and Ingeborg looped the lines over her shoulder like she’d seen Far do. This too was something most women didn’t attempt. Often she wished she’d been born a male, but no longer. Now she wanted to be an even better midwife than her mother.
    The shine on the blade showed it had been sharpened. Another thing she’d forgotten to ask. But then Far would have said no, the plow wasn’t ready. Hjelmer swung the garden gate open, and she drove the team in, setting the angle of the blade to cut through the dirt. Good thing they’d disked the garden in the fall and then spread cow manure over it through the winter. She gripped the handles, pointed the blade down, and clucked the team forward. The blade bounced free of the ground and leaned to the side. “Whoa.” She had to use more muscle. And more size would be helpful too.
    Mor stood on the back stoop and shook her head before returning into the house.
    The team stood patiently while Ingeborg reset herself. Hjelmer came to stand beside her.
    “What if I drive