“It could get worse.”
She knew that meant he might lose his job after all. “I’ll start looking for property. We can open another boardinghouse. We could manage it together.”
“Railroad men are leaving. The company is giving away free tickets to California.”
“MacPherson said he will do what he can to help me find a job. If not, there’s good land in California.”
“You can’t mean you want to go back to farming!”
“I miss the plowing and planting. I miss harvesting crops I’ve sown with my own hands. I miss wide-open spaces and fresh air.”
She tried to remain calm. “I remember frigid winters. I remember thunderstorms and flashes of lightning that filled us both with fear because one strike could burn away a year’s work in minutes!”
“The weather is temperate in California. There’s no ice and snow in the Central Valley.”
She started to shake. “Please tell me you didn’t sign another contract.”
“No, but I applied for tickets. It’ll be a miracle if we get them. They’re going to men who have worked for the company five years or more. But I had to try. There won’t be any more in a week.”
Even having been warned of what might come, Marta wasn’t prepared when Niclas came home with train tickets to California. “This is the answer to my prayers,” he told her, holding them up in his hand. She hadn’t seen that look on his face since they left the wheat fields.
Marta remembered how much they had at the end of four years of farming. Nothing! She knew he wouldn’t listen to that reasoning, and she searched for excuses to delay. “We could wait until after Christmas, at least.”
He laughed. “We’ll spend Christmas in California!”
Bursting into tears, she fled into the kitchen. She thought Niclas would follow, but he didn’t. As she set the table, she heard him telling the children about California, the golden land of opportunity, the place where the sun was always shining. Even after she called everyone to dinner, he kept on about it. She picked at her food and tried not to glare at him and upset the children. Hildemara kept looking at her. “Eat!” she told her. Clotilde already looked like the older sister with her greater height and weight.
“When are we going, Papa?” Bernhard sounded like he’d been invited to a world’s fair.
“The end of the week. We’ll take only what we need.” His eyes met Marta’s. “We’ll sell the furniture and buy what we need when we get to California.”
“All of it?” she said faintly. “What about the new bedroom set we bought last year, and the couch, and-?”
“It would cost more to have them sent by freight than buying new when we get there.”
She lost her appetite completely. Niclas took seconds. “They say you can pick oranges off the trees all year long.”
Bernhard’s eyes grew big. He’d had his first orange for Christmas last year. “As many as we want?”
“If we end up with an orange tree on our property.”
“What property?” Marta said, steaming.
Niclas ruffled Bernhard’s hair. “We don’t have property, yet,
Marta cleared and washed the dishes while Niclas took the children into the parlor to read Bible stories.
“Off to bed.” Marta shooed them up the stairs and got them ready for bed. Niclas came up and kissed them each good night. When he headed for their bedroom, she headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not tired yet.” Her heart pounded fiercely.
He followed her downstairs and into the parlor. She wrapped her arms around herself and refused to look at him. She could feel him standing behind her, looking at her. She heard him sigh heavily.
“Talk to me, Marta.”
“What is there to talk about? You’ve already made up your mind.”
“What better gift can we give our children than the chance of a better life? Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Isn’t that why you left home as young as you did?”
“I left because I wanted to make my own choices!”
He put his hands at her waist. “You chose me.”
Niclas drew her back against him. The feelings he stirred with a touch always defeated her. She wanted to resist, but found herself surrendering to him again. When she leaned into him, he turned her around and embraced her. When he raised his mouth from hers, she leaned her head against his chest. His heart beat hard and fast.
“Trust me.”
Marta closed her eyes and said nothing.
“If you can’t trust me, trust God. He opened the way.”
Marta wished she could believe it.
Part Two
15
1921
The passenger car bumped and jerked, moving slowly down the track. On her knees, Hildemara looked out the window at the passing houses as the train picked up speed. She slid down onto the seat again, feeling dizzy, her stomach queasy. Mama had made her eat breakfast even though her appetite had waned with excitement over the trip south in the United States of America. Now, she felt her full stomach rolling as the wheels clicked along the track.
“You look pale, Marta.” Papa frowned. “Are you feeling all right?”
“No better than I felt coming across the Atlantic.” Mama leaned her head back against the seat. “Watch the children.”
Bernhard and Clotilde ran up and down the aisle, until Papa told them to sit down and be quiet. Mama took one look at Hildemara and called Papa back. “You’d better take her to the washroom and quick.” Hildemara barely made it inside the little cubicle at the back of the car. She cried when nothing more came up, feeling no better for it. Papa brought her back to Mama.
“She lost her breakfast. She’s sweating and feels cold.”
“Lie down, Hildemara.” Mama stroked the hair back from her face. “Go to sleep.”
One day rolled miserably into the next as they traveled. Hildemara was too sick to care when they went through customs or changed trains. Bernhard and Clotilde chattered about every little thing they saw out the window while Hildemara couldn’t raise her head from the bench. Mama snapped at Papa. “You have to watch them, Niclas. I can’t. I don’t feel much better than Hildemara. I can’t get up and chase after Bernhard and Clotilde.”
“What am I supposed to do with them?”
“Keep them from annoying other passengers. And don’t let them out of your sight.”
“They can’t go anywhere.”
“They can fall between cars! They can get off the train when it stops! If you’re going to the dining car to talk with those men again, take them with you. I can’t run after them.”
“All right, Marta. Lie down and rest. You look worse than Hildemara.”
“I hate trains!”
