It is 1869 and Ole and Helena Branjord are Norwegian immigrants attempting to make a new life on forty acres of central Iowa farmland. Ole is a kind, gentle man who questions his ability to provide for his family. Helena is pining for a real house, but has sadly learned through her past experiences that promises, no matter how sincere, are never certain. But Ole has lofty dreams to prove all the naysayers wrong and double his farmstead. The Branjord children each possess talents and challenges. Eleven-year-old Oline loves music. Martin is intelligent beyond his eight years. Four-year-old Berent wants to wear pants instead of the dresses Norwegian custom dictates he don every day. Populating the Branjord's world are other immigrants that include a giant, strong man who can make a violin sing; a Civil War veteran with disfiguring physical scars; and members of the local Lutheran church determined to save their congregation. But among all the good is one enemy from Helena's past who wants nothing more than to destroy the Branjords. Twedt's well-researched novel deserves to be awarded a place next to Rolvaag's work on the book shelves of home, public, and college libraries. It is apparent that Twedt has devoted many years to perfecting his craft as a storyteller. -Brad Steiger Land of Promise, Land of Tears By Jerry L. Twedt AuthorHouse Copyright © 2012 Jerry L. Twedt All right reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4678-7400-7 Chapter One "Berent! Berent Branjord! Where are you?" Helena called as she stood, hands on hips, in the cabin doorway. She listened carefully for the telltale giggle of her mischievous four-year-old, but heard only the squawking of two angry blue jays circling overhead. "Berent! I don't have time to play this game. Answer me!" He did not. Helena's dark blue eyes narrowed. Her full, generally upturned lips became a straight, narrow line. She studied the barn and hog house, which squatted like sagging haystacks forty yards to the south. No movement. "He could be there," she thought, "but the little stinker is afraid of the two sows. No, he is most likely in the corncrib." She stepped out onto the small porch, shading her eyes from the afternoon sun, and looked west to the log corncrib Ole and Big Per Larson had erected a year ago March. "Berent, come here or I'm getting the big wooden spoon!" Her threat was answered by a rooster, who flapped his wings and strutted atop the chicken coop just south of the crib. Helena glared at the bird. "I don't need any remarks from you," she said as she walked the twenty yards to the crib. The fresh prairie grass tickled her bare feet and, despite her anger at Berent, she smiled. After all, she reminded herself, it was a beautiful April day. So, to celebrate, she raised her long gingham dress above her calves and enjoyed the soft spring breeze, although it made her feel slightly sinful. The corncrib was not Berent's hiding place, nor was the wagon parked beside it. Helena looked east past the seeded oat and wheat fields to the Skunk River woods. He certainly had not walked the quarter mile to reach the river, had he? Fear began to replace anger. There were all sorts of animals in the woods: weasels, muskrats, mink, fox, even wolves. But most feared of all were badgers. A shiver went through her. She hated badgers. Four years before, in 1865, a badger had carried off a two-month-old infant from a basket sitting in the doorway of a cabin in Hardin County. She turned quickly to the north, where her husband Ole was plowing the corn ground. The movement sent her long blond hair, which was done up in a loose, single braid, flying over her right shoulder, coming to rest on her right breast. Even though Ole was two hundred yards away, she could see the matched pair of bays straining to pull the steel plow blade through the deep, black soil. To the west was nothing but prairie that seemed to go on forever. Was Berent out there? Alone? Lost? Helena took a deep breath, forcing herself to count to ten. Berent wasn't lost. He was hiding. The little stinker was just hiding! She had an idea. "Berent, I see you hiding behind the cabin. You come out now!" There was a short pause, then, from behind the outhouse, which was north and west of the cabin, stepped a curly-haired blond boy wearing a faded calico dress that by some miracle had survived his older brother and sister. Helena knew it would never survive Berent. "You do not, Mama! I am not behind the cabin. You can't see me there!" "Well, I can see you now. Get into the cabin!" Berent put his hands on his hips and stomped his right foot. "You didn't find me, Mama. You cheated!" "I wasn't playing. You can play hide-n-seek with Oline and Martin, not with me. When I call, you come! Understand?" "But Oline and Martin are in school. There's nobody to play with," Berent moaned. "That's no excuse. You do not hide from me. Now get into the cabin or I'll get the big wooden spoon!" Berent stu