COWBOY ROMANCE: Justin (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 1) (177 page)

Chapter 7

Although both Stina and Karin were relatively fluent in English, neither felt they knew enough to be either a translator or a teacher. Both of them put flyers around town to either do housekeeping or laundry. Right away, Mr. Coleman hired them both. His wife had died, and his daughter was only ten, so he had little time for either. He also hired Karin to watch his daughter while he was at work.

With Stina and Karin taken care of job-wise, Elise focused on her own means of support. She began immediately with her private lessons with the Colemans and spent time planning lessons for teaching English to all the Swedes who immigrated just for working in the United States.

Their lives settled into a pattern, with the three of the women finding that they actually liked California. Sure, as the fall came, so did the rains; but even so, the weather wasn’t nearly as cold as in Bishop Hill.

Stina wasn’t very happy about having to do laundry for people, but she had taken in enough to wonder if she should open a shop in the business district. In order to do so, though, she needed someone to help with purchasing a building and the necessary equipment. She also did mending for the workers, who were always ripping shirts and pants.

Karin was very happy with her job. Instead of her and Stina sharing the chores, Karin eventually took over all of the housekeeping, cooking, and child care in the home. She said the work made her feel fulfilled, like she was needed instead of just being paid for work.

Every night that Elise didn’t work, Lars came to visit. After a while, Elise began to feel as though he didn’t want her to see anybody else. She couldn’t decide if it was because he loved her, although he never said the words, or because he just wanted a female companion. On the nights she held classes at the one-room school, Lars was there to walk her home, almost as though he was staking his claim on her.

One night, there were only two young men at the class, Moya and another Swede. After a brief lesson, she dismissed class. With Lars not at the school, Moya asked if he could walk her home.

“I’d like that,” Elise said in English.

“I
vould
have asked you before, but Lars is
alvays
here.”

“I’m glad that we ended early tonight. I’ve wanted to get to know other people. Lars is nice, and I did come out here because he asked me to, but I need other friends, too. It isn’t my fault that there are so few women here.”

“I
vant
to get to know you better, too,” he said, “but Lars
vould
be mad.”

“I don’t care,” she declared. “He can’t tell me who I can and can’t see.”

They walked in silence for a full block before Elise asked, “Are you liking the English class?”

“Very much. I learn a lot.”

“I enjoy teaching it and meeting other residents of Forestville. The men here are all so nice. I just wish there were more women in town.”

“
Ve
do, too,” Moya said with a laugh. “
Dat
is
vy
Lars asked you to come. Do you
tink
you could start a newspaper so
ve
could write and ask for brides?
Ve
don’t know how to write English.”

“You know, Moya,” she said, gazing up at him suspiciously, “you speak enough English, so you don’t need my class.”

He grinned. “I don’t. It
vas
de
only way I could
tink
of to see you again.”

Laying his hand on the small of her back, Moya steered her down a street that didn’t lead to her house. The explosion of feelings that raced through her caught her by surprise. How had his mere touch—over her lightweight coat and clothes, at that—cause such a strong reaction in her?

To still this new excitement, she asked, “Where are we going? This isn’t the way home.”

“It’s a different
vay
home, Elise,” Moya replied. “Lars
alvays
valks
dat
vay.
I don’t
vant
to meet him on
de
street.”

“Ah, that explains it. Wait! That has to mean that you know our normal route. How could you?”

“I follow you,” he admitted as they reached the corner at the end of a street, where he steered her toward the left.

“Every night?” she asked in shock.

“
Ja
, every night.”

“Why?”

“Lars isn’t
de
man you
tink
he is. I don’t
tink
he
vants
you to know
vat
he is really like.”

Stunned, Elise strolled next to him in a daze. Not the man she
thinks he is
? What did that mean? Why wouldn’t Lars want her to know what he’s really like? Would he hurt her? Would he do what Bridget’s fiancé did to Bridget? Elise wasn’t sure she wanted answers to her questions. She was happy in her own little naïve world, happy knowing that she had a suitor.

Or
was
she happy. In Bishop Hill, she had felt no deep feelings for Lars. She’d always considered him nothing more than her friend. When he’d kissed her for the first time here in Forestville, she hadn’t felt anything—not excitement, not repulsion, nothing.

“I’m sorry, Elise,” Moya said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Actually, Moya, I’m
not
upset. I’m curious. I’m feeling terribly naïve. I don’t know how to react, but oddly enough, I do know I’m not upset. “

“I’m glad.” Moya pulled her off the boardwalk and into an alley.

“Where are we going?” she asked, more curious than in a panic at being diverted away from where people could see them.

“I heard footsteps, and I
vant
to make sure it isn’t Lars.”

Leaning back against a building, they stood silently in the dark until a man strode past them. Thank goodness, it wasn’t Lars. Elise didn’t want him to see them anymore than Moya did. Relieved, Elise inhaled, suddenly realizing that the needed air. She hadn’t even known that she’d held her breath during their wait.

A man passed their location, and a gas street light showed someone Elise had never seen.

Moya sighed near her ear and said, “I’m glad it v
asn’t
Lars. He
vouldn’t
have liked me
valking
you home.”

“I’m glad, too,” Elise admitted.

“Who’s out there?” a male voice demanded from a nearby window.”

“We’re leaving,” Elise said as she pulled Moya toward the street by his wrist.

Together, they raced along the boardwalk to escape being seen by the person at the window. With Elise leading the way, they ran to a different street and turned left. Then she slowed to a walk, and Moya fell into step beside her.

Giggling, Elise asked, “Do you think he knew who we are?”

Moya smiled down at her. “I hope not. He might tell Lars
dat
it
vas
us.”

“You’re really worried about Lars finding out that you walked me home, aren’t you?” she asked, turning serious.

“He
vouldn’t
like it if he knew.”

“But you’re just walking me home. It’s not like we’re doing anything inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?” Moya asked curiously.

“Something we shouldn’t.”

Moya visibly stiffened as they strolled down the street that would take them the back way to Elise’s house. That concerned her, because she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. If he didn’t think they were doing something wrong, why did he react that way?

When they reached the end of her street, Moya turned to face Elise and took both of her hands in his. “
Tank
. I had fun on our
valk
.”

“I did, too,” she replied with a smile. Would he kiss her good night? She discovered that she desperately wanted him to, but she wasn’t sure it was wise if he was that worried about Lars.

“Can I visit you sometime?” he asked.

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll see
ven
Lars works and I don’t. I’ll come see you then.”

“All right.”

After a quick kiss on her cheek, Moya hurried away in the opposite direction of her home. Elise wandered down the street toward her house. When she was close enough, she realized that Lars was on the porch talking with Stina. Wondering what they were saying, she carefully approached the house as she stayed in the shadows of the moonlit trees. Finally, she was close enough to hear them.

“Why are you so concerned about Moya and Elise?” Stina asked.

“I don’t like the way he looks at her,” Lars explained. “I get the feeling that he’s interested in courting her. I can’t have that. I brought her here for me, not another man. I’m going to marry her, and then she won’t have to work. She can stay home and care for the house.”

Infuriated by his attitude, Elise stepped out of the shadows.

Chapter 8

“So I was right!” she exclaimed angrily. “You had only one reason to bring me here. You only want a wife to take care of you. You don’t want a wife you love.”

“Elise!” Stina and Lars chorused.

“Stina, if you don’t mind, I need to speak with Lars alone.”

Without a word, Stina scurried into the house. Elise mounted the steps and sat down on the rocking chair she’d bought, while Lars leaned against a railing across from her.

“I thought you came because you loved me,” he said. “I thought you
wanted
to marry me.”

“I came,” Elise returned, “because I saw an opportunity to earn some money. I brought Stina and Karin with me because they wanted to come. If they hadn’t, I would have come alone. They’re the ones who came looking for husbands.”

“But in Bishop Hill, we courted for years. I was sure you came to marry me.”

Elise felt a tug at her heart, not because she felt guilty but because she felt bad that Lars had put so much emotion into their life together. They had never even discussed marriage. How could he think that she would come to Forestville with that in mind? Other than because he had mentioned the men here wanted wives in one letter, that is.

“I’m sorry if you got that impression, Lars. I certainly hadn’t meant to lead you to believe it would be that way.”

“Are you looking for another man?”

“Actually, Lars, I’m not looking for
any
man. Like I said, I came looking for opportunities, for financial independence. I suppose you could say I came for the suffragist movement. I’ve been alone for seven years now, Lars. I’m used to it. So far, I’ve lived in an orphanage, in a single room in a boarding house, with an Irish family who took me in for rent, and with the Bengtsons. It’s time for me to learn to fend for myself in case I never have a husband. I think I would like to do it at least a year before I make any decisions to marry.”

“A
year
?”

“Yes, Lars. I would like to be responsible for myself for at least that long. I believe I need to do it that way.”

Lars pushed himself off the railing and stood before her. “Then I’ll give you that time. We can continue to court while you fend for yourself. When you feel you’re ready, we’ll marry.” He paused then said, “By the way, why are you home so early?”

“Only two men came for lessons, so I made it quick.” Remembering what Moya said about his concern that Lars would see them, she decided to eliminate him from her explanation. “I decided to come home a different direction tonight to get an idea of how the city is laid out.”

“That makes sense.” Leaning over, Lars turned her face upward with his fingers under her chin. “I’ll say good night now.” He bent over and gave her a peck on the lips. “Night.”

“Good night, Lars,” she replied absently.

During that entire conversation, Lars hadn’t mentioned love once. On one hand, she could understand what her father had meant by not marrying somebody who couldn’t tell her that he loved her. On the other hand, didn’t a man’s actions mean just as much? Anybody could say the words “I love you,” but if that person didn’t show her that was the case, how could it truly be love? Maybe this was something she needed to take into consideration.

***

Two days later, Elise was home alone, sitting on the sofa and reading a book she’d bought on the trip from Illinois. A knock on the door startled her. Folding over the corner of the page so she didn’t lose her place, she set the book on the end table she’d purchased from a local woodworker.

When she opened the front door, there stood Moya. Her heart again seemed to skip a beat. This was an entirely new feeling, one that she didn’t know how to categorize. She knew one thing, though. She was thrilled to see him.

“Moya, what a pleasant surprise!” she exclaimed. “Please, come in.”

“Are you alone?”

“I am.”

“Good,” he said with a grin as he entered the house. “I
vouldn’t vant
somebody to
tink
ve vere
meeting behind Lars’ back.”

“You don’t have to worry about him, Moya,” she replied, closing the door behind him. “I told him that I’m not interested in marriage for at least a year.”

The smile dropped from Moya’s lips, and his eyes sagged at the outer corners. Elise motioned for him to have a seat on the sofa, and after he sank onto one end, she sat down on the opposite end. She moved so she could face him with her leg resting on the cushion between them.

“Does it bother you that you don’t need to worry about Lars?”

“I’m not sure I shouldn’t worry,” he admitted. “I don’t trust him.”

“Why not?”

“
Tings
I’ve heard. Let’s not talk about him.”

When he also shifted on the couch, bending his let under him so he could face her directly, their knees bumped. Excitement raced through Elise again. Why did this keep happening? This time it was an innocent, unintentional contact, but it still sent flames raging through her.

“
Vat
brings you to Forestville?” he asked, seemingly unaffected by their touch.

“You already know. Lars asked me to come and bring some young women with me. He said that the men working on logging needed a translator and a teacher. It’s obvious that you speak English very well, though, so I’m not sure he was being honest with me. I’m just glad I was able to get a job. Do you mind if I ask how long you’ve been in America?”

“I came over
vit
my
fader
and my five brothers
ven
I was sixteen.
Dat
vould
be seven years ago.”

So Moya was twenty-three years old, and he had a come to this country with his father and brothers. Why not his mother or sisters? Before she could ask, however, he answered her unvoiced question.

“My mother died, and Pa
vanted
to start a new life here.”

“I see,” she said. “Why are you here in Forestville? Is this where your father wanted to be?”

“No, I came on my own. I
vanted
to see more of America. I liked it here, so I stayed.”

“It is a beautiful place with all the trees and the river.”

“
Vat
about you?
Vy
vere
you
villing
to come here to earn a living? Could you not earn
von
in Bishop Hill?”

Elise explained her life up until that point to him. They spent a long time talking about themselves and getting to know each other. Occasionally, he would touch her arm or twist a lock of her long, straight hair around his finger. Each time he touched her, she wanted to throw herself into his arms. She could hardly bare the sensations inside her.

After a couple of hours, he announced that he should leave before her roommates returned for the night. With his hand behind her neck, he pulled her toward him. She steeled herself for what was to come as her face neared his.

His lips met hers tenderly. When she didn’t resist, he embraced her, crushing her upper body against him. She felt as though she would float away, and she grabbed his upper arms. His muscles were so hard! She ran her hands lightly up and down them from his elbows to his shoulders.

Oh, how she loved the feel of him! How she wanted him to lay her back on the sofa and …

He broke the kiss and stared directly into her eyes, his own pale blue eyes capturing her complete attention.

“I
vill
come again,
min kära
. I promise.”

Unable to speak or move, she sat on the blue velvet sofa while he strode to the door.
Min kära
, she thought. My dear. Lars had never called her anything other than her name, never a single term of endearment like Moya. Was he falling in love with her? Was
she
falling in love with
him
? Is that what all these new feelings meant?