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cheeks.
    “Pa!” she cried and ran to the door. “Pa!”
    “What is it? Can I help?” Nora sprang to her feet.
    Ingeborg settled herself in the rocker. “Carl’s wife died last night in childbirth and he can’t get this mite to take a bottle. John said we’d help. Why don’t you bring the little girl here? Her name is Kaaren.”
    “Now, we’ll have two funerals tomorrow.” Reverend Moen stood in front of the window. “Dear Lord, when will this cease?”
    I wonder if this is the family I am to help, Nora thought as she went to the stove for the coffeepot. Mr. Detschman is certainly a man with more than his share of troubles.

Chapter 4
    “Oh, that poor man.” Nora felt her heart break for him. “P-a-a.” Kaaren tried turning the doorknob to follow her father. Tears streamed down her face as she twisted on the slippery knob.
    Nora rose and knelt by the child. “Your pa will come back. Come here and let me dry your tears.”
    Kaaren pulled away and wailed more loudly.
    Nora sat back on her heels. If only she could speak the language.
    Reverend Moen stooped beside her. “Come, Kaaren, you must give this up now. You’ll make yourself sick with such tears.” He lifted the little girl in his arms and patted her back.
    “Pa, I . . . I want my . . . my pa.”
    Nora rose to her feet, thankful that the Moens spoke both Norwegian and English. However would she be able to work for a family that did not speak Norwegian?
    “Mary, you take Kaaren and show her your dolls,” John said. He set the crying child down again and linked the two girls’ hands. “Kaaren, you go with Mary. Knute, why don’t you help entertain our visitor, also?” When the children wandered off to the other room chattering, he turned back to Nora.
    “Carl said he needed to get back to take care of his livestock. That’s why he left so hastily. He also said he’d bring Anna, that’s his wife, in for the funeral tomorrow.”
    “Oh, that poor, poor man.” Nora shook her head. Visions of stern, blue eyes in a strongly handsome face returned to her. So young for such a tragedy. She totally forgot her own situation while praying for his.
    “God be thanked that Carl didn’t lose his son, too,” Ingeborg added.
    “That is true. But for right now—” Reverend Moen studied the toe of his boot. He inhaled deeply and sighed in weariness. “I need to go over to the blacksmith and ask him to prepare another box. Then locate someone to ride out and help Carl. He looked about at the end of his tether.” Reverend Moen reached for his coat and hat. He paused. “You know anyone besides yourself who could wet-nurse this baby, Inge?”
    Ingeborg looked up. “What? Oh dear, I don’t know, not right now.”
    After the man left the house, Nora began clearing the table. Had the good Lord answered her prayer already? Here was someone, literally on their doorstep, who needed help. And he needed help now! Granted, she could not nurse the baby, but maybe she could persuade him to take a bottle. Maybe after Ingeborg nursed him a few times to get his strength up—the thoughts leaped and tumbled over one another.
    “There, now,” Ingeborg said with a sigh of relief. “The mite finally found out what he’s supposed to do.” She pushed her rocker into its creaking song. “Who else might still be nursing a baby? We’ve had no newborns around here for a time.”
    Nora reached under the sink for a metal pan. After slicing several curls off the hard lye soap bar and into the pan, she poured in steaming water from the teakettle. Then, she added the dishes. All the while her thoughts tumbled on. She could work for Carl Detschman, of course she could. That way she would earn money for her passage back to Norway. She could go home. What kind of wages would he pay? Maybe he was unable to pay like the others that Ingeborg mentioned. What then?
    Memory of her mother’s voice blew cool reason through the confusion in her mind. “If you are doing God’s