As the day went on, the sunflowers seemed to be smiling right at her, and she found to her surprise that she was somehow cheered. She was, after all, a true farm girl. This vast open space with the golden wheat blowing in the wind, blue skies, and white puffy clouds seemed more like home to her. And later, as they passed by the small clusters of farmhouses along the way, she began to wonder about Lordor Nordstrom’s house. Would it have a real kitchen? Some land for a garden? She liked cows. Maybe he would let her keep some chickens, and if it worked out, Mrs. Knott had promised a pig. She loved little baby pigs.
By that night, Katrina was plagued with a new set of worries. What if Lordor Nordstrom didn’t like her at all and sent her back? What if she wasn’t as pretty as he had hoped or if he didn’t think she was strong enough to make a good farm wife? Now the thought of having to go back to Chicago seemed as scary as leaving had once been. She calmed herself by reading Lordor’s last two letters over and over again.
Dear Miss Olsen,
I am pleased the ticket and travel money arrived. I worry, now that plans have been made, you may be having some concern for what to expect of Missouri and me. I beg of you, please do not expect too much or you will surely be disappointed. I am just a simple farmer, and this is a simple place. I live in dread that you will find me and the life here too dull after the time you spent in Chicago. I am suddenly getting cold feet for you. But please be assured that if that does turn out to be true, you are under no obligation on my part to stay. I will respect your wishes in every way.
As for myself, I am pleased beyond belief that you will come at all. I have been reading as many books as I can and trying my best to generally improve myself before your arrival here. Please hurry. All the ladies around here are busy trying to improve me as well. By the time you get here, I may be over-improved and not much good for anything.
Your faithful servant,
Lordor Nordstrom
P.S. Don’t be surprised if those same ladies throw a square dance and box supper to try and impress you. They have been pulling me around the dance floor for weeks, polishing me up for that big occasion. How well I will do remains to be seen. Please let me know the exact time and date of your arrival.
Dear Miss Olsen,
I will be there to meet your train on June 16th and deliver you to the Swensen home. I will be wearing a red flower in my hat so you will not miss me on the platform. Also, I am enclosing Mrs. Henry Knott’s late mother’s wedding ring that she insists you wear on the train. She tells me that because of tinkers, hawkers, slick fancy-pants traveling salesmen, and such, it is not safe for a single lady to travel alone. I am not happy to hear that news. Try not to look too pretty, if you can help it, which I doubt. Our whole community, as Mrs. Swensen says, is “atwitter” with excitement. I am mostly numb to think that you are actually coming.
Yours truly,
Lordor Nordstrom
In his letters, Mr. Nordstrom seemed so sure of his feelings, so kind and caring. It made her feel better just to read them. What Lordor had not mentioned in his last letter was that a few days after he sent the money and the ticket, he, too, had awakened in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, thinking, “My God, what have I done?” He had been so caught up in the community’s excitement, and he had suddenly realized that he was asking this pretty young girl to give up everything and come to a place where she knew no one, and to spend the rest of her life with him. What had he been thinking? Miss Olsen lived in Chicago, a big city, with big-city people. What if she didn’t like him? What if she hated Missouri? Was she expecting his house to be bigger and grander than it was? She was not a new cow or horse he had ordered. This was a live human being with feelings. And this brave girl was taking a chance on him. He had never felt so scared in his life. Then something occurred to him. He got up and knelt down beside the bed. He was not a praying man, but that night, he prayed that he had not made a mistake. He prayed the poor girl would not be disappointed and turn around and leave.
Springfield, Missouri
When the train arrived, Katrina looked down the long railroad platform and squinted in the bright morning sun. She could see the outline of a big, tall blond man, dressed in a new black suit, with a red flower in his hat. He was flanked by two married ladies who had accompanied him to pick her up, as was the custom. “It made the first meeting easier for the bride,” they said. The truth was that Lordor was the one who needed them. He was afraid he wouldn’t recognize her, but the moment she stepped down from the train, he knew it was her. He had studied her photograph for months now, but he was still not prepared for what Katrina looked like in person.
The girl who stood waiting on the platform was small in stature and had the tiniest, most delicate feet he had ever seen. With her white porcelain complexion, pink cheeks, and blue eyes she looked just like the Swedish doll his mother had kept on top of her bedroom chest. The two ladies were so excited to see her that they rushed ahead and left Lordor standing in the dust. After they had hugged her and told her how happy they were to see her and how pretty she was, they began feeling the material on the smart stylish Chicago clothes she was wearing. They examined with delight the fancy little buttons on her leather gloves and the charming feather on her hat and acted for all the world as if she was there just for them, as their brand-new plaything.
After they had examined Katrina from head to toe, Birdie Swensen finally turned around and motioned to Lordor and said to Katrina, “Here he is, Miss Olsen, for better or worse…your betrothed!” Lordor shyly stepped up, bowed, and tipped his hat.
Mrs. Knott said impatiently, “Well, say hello, Lordor, don’t just stand there! The poor girl has come halfway around the world to see you.” But all Lordor could manage to do was tip his hat and bow again.
—
LORDOR DROVE THEM BACK HOME to the Swensen house and gave Katrina time to get settled in and rest. Doing what he had been told to do, he stayed away until the next day when, as planned, he picked up Katrina and Birdie Swensen and drove them to see his dairy farm and the house. It was a beautiful morning, and the ride over was so lovely. The rolling hills in the background were a bright summer green. As they passed by the other farms, people waved at them. When they drove up to Lordor’s house, Katrina thought she could see a side yard full of sunflowers, just like the ones she had seen from the train. And it cheered her as it had then. She took this as a good omen.
When the horses came to a full stop, Lordor cleared his throat and said, “This is the house.” From what Katrina could see, it was just as Mrs. Knott had described it: a large two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch and lovely wisteria vines growing on the side. “Oh, Mr. Nordstrom, it looks like a very nice house,” she said.