Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [11]
“Got something for you,” he grunted, holding out the bundle. “Found it this morning, and I said to Nils: Jorunn’s little sister would like this bit of a thing. I’ll take it to her.” He let out a hearty laugh.
The lass stared at him. Why in the name of all the saints would he bring her a baby? The squirming, crying bundle couldn’t be anything else.
“Come here and take it, girl, it won’t bite—well, it will, but the little nipper’s teeth don’t hurt all that much.” He waved the bundle in her direction again.
“What is it?”
“It’s an orphaned pup.” Rolf Simonson laughed. “I would have thought you’d jump at the chance for a dog of your own!”
The young lass sagged back against the well. “I thought it was a baby,” she said weakly.
Jorunn’s father-in-law roared with laughter, causing the puppy to cry and wiggle even more. “A baby? Did you think I’d stolen away your sister’s latest? A baby!”
The laughter and the squeaking had drawn Frida and even Hans Peter out of the house, and now they stood in the yard and looked from the girl to Rolf Simonson. Hans Peter was smiling his faint half smile, and Frida had made her face as welcoming as it ever was.
“Neighbor Simonson,” she said. “Will you come in and have a mug of ale?”
“That I shall, Mistress Frida,” he replied. “But first your youngest must take this puppy from me, before I drop it.”
Indeed, the little creature, though still obscured by the folds of the old blanket, was squirming ferociously. Another minute and it would writhe its way out of the farmer’s massive hands and fall to the rocky mud of the yard. The lass took hold of the bundle just in time.
A little furry head poked out as she did, and the puppy cheeped at her. Its eyes were not yet open, and it was dark gray with black markings. It cheeped again, and then sank its needlelike milk teeth into her finger.
“Ouch, stop that!” She pulled her finger free and tapped the puppy’s nose with it. Her gaze on the little creature, she followed Rolf Simonson and her mother into the house, with Hans Peter bringing up the rear.
“It’s only a few days old,” Hans Peter judged, as he and the lass crouched by the fire to have a good look at the puppy.
“Less than that, even,” Rolf Simonson told them. “I found him this morning when I went to the barn. Mother must’ve crawled out of the woods and snuggled up in the long grass just behind my barn to have him. Wandered off to have the rest somewhere else and forgot this one.”
“Thank Neighbor Simonson for the dog,” Frida snapped at her youngest daughter. She dipped him a mug of ale from the barrel in the corner and set it down on the smooth-scrubbed table.
The lass leaped to her feet, blushing with embarrassment. “Thank you so much, Neighbor Simonson. It was very kind of you to think of me.”
“You’re welcome, girl,” he said, waving away her thanks and then taking up the mug for a long swig. “A girl with your talent for animals should have one of her own!” He laughed and took another swig.
The lass could tell that her mother was not pleased to have a dog added to their household. But Jorunn’s father-in-law would hear if they gave the animal away, so Frida would be forced to let her daughter keep it. The lass was ecstatic.
“Hem,” Hans Peter coughed, bringing her attention back to the dog. “Lass?”
She sank back to the hearth and took the puppy in her hands. It began sucking noisily on her thumb.
“Lass?” Hans Peter was tugging at her sleeve.
“What is it?” She gave him an annoyed look. She had been about to get up and get some reindeer milk for the puppy. She was thinking of using an old leather glove for it to suckle from.
Hans Peter waited until their mother and Rolf Simonson were busy gossiping to lean in close and whisper in her ear. “Take a good look at this . . . puppy.”
She looked down at the little creature. Its soft fur stuck out at all angles, and it was still busily sucking at her thumb. The wisp of a tail was