Racing Home by Adele Dueck Page A

shell was finished, Erik helped move Lars and Kirsten’s household belongings into the new rooms.
    When all the lumber was transferred to town, Rolf went to work building a drugstore and Olaf returned to hauling lumber from Hanley. With Lars now working in his own store, Erik went back to the farm, bringing with him a bushel of potatoes purchased with his earnings.
    Being home seemed very dull after his days in Green Valley.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Threshing
    It was September. In Norway or Minnesota or even Hanley, school was starting, but not for Erik and Elsa. “We could go to school where we went to church the day it hailed,” suggested Elsa.
    “It’s too far,” said Inga. “Even if you took the oxen, it would be more than an hour each way. You’ll have to wait till they build a school closer to home.”
    “What about Green Valley? I could walk there. It’s only five kilometres.”
    “We’ll see when they build a school,” said Inga, “but it will still be a long walk.”
    Erik didn’t miss sitting in a desk studying numbers and history. He needed school to learn more English and meet boys his age, but it wasn’t going to help him with the only thing he wanted to do – farm.
    There wasn’t time to go to school, anyway. The slough was dry, so Erik had to haul more water. They hadn’t worked on the well since before the town auction; Rolf was just too busy. Erik frequently thought of the man who’d dug fifteen dry wells, wondering if Rolf would ever hit water. The well in Green Valley was dug in a spot chosen by a man with a forked stick. They’d found water, so maybe Rolf should have let him choose the location for their well, too.
    One day after the garden froze, Erik and Elsa harvested the vegetables, finding small potatoes, short carrots and not much else. With the garden gone, the oxen and cow were allowed to find their own feed. Erik didn’t tether them anymore, but sometimes he had to look for them instead. Fortunately, they came back to the yard for water.
    He put another post in the shed so he could tie up both Tess and the calf on cold nights, but far enough apart to prevent the calf stealing the milk.
    When he wasn’t hauling water, Erik searched the river hills for cattle feed and firewood, piling it together, then bringing it back in the wagon. Once he saw horses travelling toward the river. There were three or four riders trailing the herd, all wearing wide-brimmed hats. Erik had learned that cowboys weren’t common in farming country. The only ones he’d seen around Green Valley were Jim and two or three others who worked with Pete in his livery stable. It seemed strange that twice now, herds of horses had gone through the area.
    The train hadn’t reached Green Valley yet, but Erik knew the track was being built from Moose Jaw. It was supposed to reach Green Valley sometime in November.
    A couple of times, Lars asked Erik to come to Green Valley with Rolf. Then Erik minded the store while Lars worked on the stable at the back of the lot.
    There was always something to see or do in town. Lars had hired a man to bring coal from Hanley, while Olaf hauled more lumber. Wagons came and went at all hours as other businessmen hauled their supplies from Hanley.
    One cool afternoon, Erik was sweeping the floor when he heard rumbles in the street. He poked his head out the door to see three wagons pass by, each piled high with trunks and boxes and household furnishings.
    Erik’s eyes searched the wagons, looking for boys. The one on a lady’s lap was too young, and so were the two crouched behind the driver on the second wagon. But on the third wagon, leaning against a trunk as if he’d come all the way from Norway like that, was a boy who looked just the right age.
    Erik waved as the wagon passed in front of him. The boy didn’t move but his eyes watched Erik as he passed.
    He’ll be happy to see me when he learns how few boys are here, thought Erik.
    Lars came around the side of the store. “Did