—
It did not take many days before Bella arrived in much the same manner as Jennie had, only in a buggy. I sat by the kitchen window, giving my back a rest and admiring the flowers, when I saw her arrive. She parked out on the street and tied the horse to my fence, then walked toward the door. She wore a long, black coat that looked much too thick for the weather, the flowery hat, and a pair of men’s shoes on her feet. When she moved, the trim of her coat dusted the flagstones around her. She did not wait for me to open but entered right after she knocked.
I had thought that I might find it uncomfortable to have Bella in my house after all the dark thoughts I had suffered, but the sight of her was so familiar to me, as if she belonged to my body, like a limb. As I watched her enter my kitchen, and she stood there on my floor in the flesh, it was as if I could not reconcile the real woman with the person in my head. She was just Bella—Little Brynhild—quarrelsome and difficult at times, but lively too, and generous.
Surely Gust Gunness had been wrong.
There was nothing lively about her this day, though, as she strode into my kitchen with hardly a greeting. “Did you know that Jennie is in Chicago?”
I nodded that I did and took her coat.
“That Ole Olson,” she huffed as she sat down by the table. “He seems to think that he can just take her back!”
“Well, he has the right of blood,” I murmured as I poured her coffee.
“Well, it is I who have had all the hardships involved in raising a child from infancy.” Her brow furrowed and I could see her ample bosom’s heavy rise and fall under the pearls that rested there. “Jennie had never been anything but happy with me, and she thinks of the younger girls as sisters.”
I could not argue with that. “Jennie said you had threatened her father with a lawyer.”
“Threatened? No, I have already spoken to a lawyer. He thinks I have every right to demand that she come home.” She lifted her chin as if challenging the world.
“But she is no little girl anymore. Perhaps it would be nice for her to spend some time in Chicago?” I pushed the tray of rose-flavored cookies closer to her hand, knowing that some sugar would often brighten her mood.
Bella rolled her eyes—at Ole Olson or me I could not tell. “It’s a matter of principle,” she told me. “You cannot just give your child away and then expect to have her delivered back when she is all but grown.”
This too sounded reasonable when put like that. “What will you do then?”
She picked up a cookie and measured it with her gaze. “Talk to Jennie, of course. When she first came here, it was supposed to be a visit, but when I came to bring her home, Mr. Olson informed me that he thought she could stay for a while, on account of him having a wife now.” She rolled her eyes again, and this time I knew it was aimed at Mr. Olson. “He also did say, loud and clear, that he wouldn’t stop her if she chose to go back to Brookside Farm. I only waited this long to give her time to miss us.” She bit the cookie in half.
“She certainly seemed to do that when she was here,” I said, truthfully enough. “She especially seemed to miss her new brother.” Talk of her children was nearly as effective as sugared treats when it came to chasing the thunderclouds away.
“Oh yes.” Her face softened at once, and a tender smile appeared on her lips. “He is an angel, that one, so happy and content. That I should receive such a gift from my late husband, it truly is a miracle.” Her voice had grown thick as she gave her speech, and her gaze lingered halfway up my wall. I thought she might have given it before. “You must come and see him.” Her gaze shifted to me. “He is your nephew, after all.” She frowned a little as if to remind me that I had been a negligent sister.
“I will,” I promised, “soon.” Though just the thought of it made my belly ache.
“Oh,” she suddenly lamented, as she sighed and stretched out her feet in front of her. Her shoes were very large and uncomely but doubtlessly comfortable. “I feel like I haven’t done anything but chase little girls since Peter died.”
“What do you mean? Have there been others?” I was genuinely surprised.
“Only Swanhild, Peter’s daughter. I wanted her to come and stay with us after her father died—it would have been such a comfort.” Her face took on a solemn expression and her lower lip quivered a little. “That Gust Gunness would not have it, though, and kidnapped the girl in plain daylight!” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Then I discovered that I was with child and could not put more thought into it.” She brushed crumbs off her fingers with her hands.
“But is she safe, though? Swanhild?” Kidnapping did not sound very pleasant—not that I readily believed what Bella said. I knew there could be another truth to it. I remembered Gust Gunness that day in her kitchen, how angry he had been, how ready to think her a murderess. What he had said about Swanhild: that Peter sent her away because she and Bella did not get along.
Bella shrugged. “I would think that she is. They would hardly go through such hardships only to mistreat her . . . However, the Gunness family isn’t all that, truth be told. I went to fetch the girl at one of their farms, and the place was hardly fit for swine. Peter married up, I will tell you that.” She lifted her chin again as she brought the cup to her lips. A flicker of anger appeared in her eyes, and suddenly I was frightened again. Suddenly she was there for a moment, that woman in my mind.
The one who could do whatever it took if only she was angry enough.
I wanted to reply but could not find the words. It had been such a little thing, just a shadow passing through her eyes, and yet it left me speechless.
It reminded me that nothing had changed. She was still the woman with the husbands who died in peculiar ways.
With my inner eye, I saw Myrtle again, sitting on that rock behind the barn.
“I thought I’d see Jennie at school.” Bella put down the cup; her eyes were all normal. “It’s easier, then, if she’s away from her father.”
“I’m sure.” It was my turn to sigh. I had no doubt that she would win this fight and bring the girl back home. The Olson family were honest people, bound to lose against a foe like her. It saddened me, though, as I would certainly feel easier knowing that Jennie was safe in Chicago, even if the other three were still at Brookside Farm.
“It’s not safe for a young girl in the city.” Bella rubbed her jaw with fast, angry motions. “All sorts of things can happen to her here, where I cannot look out for her. All sorts of people will look to take advantage, and if they cannot get it with promises, they will get it with violence.”