Northern Lights Trilogy (123 page)

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Authors: Lisa Tawn Bergren

BOOK: Northern Lights Trilogy
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“As are you, Karl.”

“Thank you. My wounded pride will accept any frivolous compliment you care to toss my way.”

“No, truly. You made a mistake today, as we all do from time to time. But your crew obviously loves you, respects you.”

“Not as much as yours.”

She accepted his words in silence. “They are remarkable, my men. God has blessed me to find them all. As a female, my life could be very difficult as a captain. Instead it is a dream with the men I’ve chosen.”

He paused, as if wanting to comment, and Elsa thought back on her words. Was he thinking about the men she’d chosen? About choosing one man? She let it go, uncomfortable at the thought of trying to get him to express what he was thinking. There was an electricity between them, something beyond anything she had ever experienced before. The side of her arm that was nearest to him felt warm, and she longed for the brush of his skin against hers.

“What about Mara Kenney?” she blurted out, instantly regretting her words.

He looked confused. “What brought her to mind?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking. What does she think of you shipping off for distant lands? Are you considering marriage? Will she move to Alaska?”

Karl laughed under his breath at her barrage of questions and cocked his head. “Why so curious?”

“Oh, no reason. But as your oldest friend near you, I felt as if someone should ask.”

“Someone. Hmm.”

“You know, in looking out for you.”

“For me.”

“Stop repeating what I’m saying, Karl Martensen! You’re twisting my words!”

“Am I?”

She stared at him and blinked rapidly. Oh, he was infuriating! Did he love Mara or not? She couldn’t seem to get it out of him. One
minute he was saying they were just friends, the next he was commenting on how dear his friendship was. And what better foundation for a marriage than friendship was there?

The thought stopped her, and she stared dead ahead. Not only was Karl her equal, someone she could easily respect, he was also one of her oldest and dearest friends.

Lucas interrupted her thoughts. “Captain, we’re ready to start. Care to join us?” His question was for all of them, but his eyes were on Elsa. He was handsome, she thought again, as she had in Panama, but then she looked at her old friend as he helped her to her feet.

Luke was no Karl.

Karl held her hand, held
her
close for a moment longer than necessary. Elsa quickly stepped away. The children bounded away with Luke, racing ahead of him, already knowing the ship as well as their own. The door swung shut behind them, and for a second Elsa and he were alone. He pulled her to a stop and turned her back toward him.

She looked up at him in confusion, her blue eyes huge in that perfect, sculpted face.

“Venus,” he whispered, caressing her cheek.

“What?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Elsa, I’ve tried to tell you so many times. And so I’ll just do it now. Mara and I are only friends. Only friends. Her family is dear to me, but when I was in San Francisco last, I told her that there wasn’t anything in my heart more than friendship.” He forced his hands to his sides, not wanting to touch her if she did not want to be touched. Never again would he force himself on her as he had that night he kissed her.

“You’re not…to be engaged?”

“No.”

“There is someone else?” “There is.”

She studied him intently. “Me?” she whispered, her eyebrows rising. He could barely nod, feeling as if his feet were frozen to the spot.

She let out a sudden breath of air, like a laugh of relief? But he had no time to further consider it as she ran her hands up his arms and cupped his cheeks as if she were cherishing the moment. Was he dreaming? Was this real? She reached up behind him, her body coming closer as she reached for his ponytail strap and released the leather.

Her body was so warm, and fit so well against him! He fought the urge to put his arms around her until invited.

As if reading his thoughts, she whispered lowly, “Hold me, Karl.” He could feel his hair fall to his ears as he looked down at her, slowly, reverently pulling her close.

“I don’t want to push you,” he said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes, fighting for control. “I never want to push you again. You mean too much to me, Elsa. As my friend.”

“You’re not,” she said, running her small hands around him, pulling him even closer. She raised her chin and stared at him with lowered lids. “Kiss me. Kiss me, please.”

He needed no further invitation. He kissed her with all the passion of love lost, and love found again. And he pulled her to him with all the desire he had found rekindled since seeing her again in San Francisco in the ball gown he had purchased for her a continent away.

Finally, their lips parted, and Elsa gazed up at him in wonder. “I thought I would never find love again, Karl. I thought I would never again know passion. I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten what this feels like.”

“I won’t let you forget it again,” he promised, caressing her brow and hair, wishing they were married, wishing he could hold her into the night and forever. “Never again, Elsa.”

And it was she who kissed him then.

The sound of singing brought them up for air, and they took a step away from each other. “We have much to discuss,” Karl said.

“Yes,” she agreed, smoothing her hair. “Let’s take some time, and we’ll have dinner tomorrow night.”

“And the next.”

“And the next,” she said with a smile. She took his hands in hers and grinned up at him. “This makes me so happy, Karl. Truly.”

“And me, Elsa. More than I can say. You must know that I never planned to pursue you unless you came to me first.”

“Because of…what happened.”

“Yes.”

“I understand that. I understand your heart,” she said, placing a hand on his chest. “I was married to your best friend. Is it so odd that we would find love too? After all, there is much you and Peder had in common.”

Her words concerned him. “I am not Peder.”

“I know that,” she said with a small laugh. “I do not expect you to be Peder, except for the ways that you are. You’re loyal and smart and dear, just as he was.” She laughed again. “But hopefully not as pigheaded.”

“Not nearly as pigheaded,” he said with a firm nod and smile.

She shook her head with a slight smile. “Oh, Karl. Oh, Karl!”

“Come, love,” he said, taking her hand. “We’ve tarried long enough to get both crews talking. No doubt they’re having a laugh on us.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked. “Let them laugh. I feel like laughing and never stopping myself.”

eighteen

Late October 1888

A
nyone home? Hello!”

Tora frowned. It was early yet for any customers, just three, she saw, glancing at the kitchen clock. And that voice sounded familiar… No, it was too much to hope for. But it sure sounded like Elsa. Tora was just wiping her hands on her apron, telling Kaatje and the girls that she would see to the woman, when Elsa burst through the kitchen door.

“Surprise!” she shouted, opening her arms wide. Her face was pink with merriment, and she was as beautiful as ever, Tora mused, rushing toward her for a hug.

“Elsa! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed.

“As am I!” She turned toward Kaatje and then the girls, giving them each a hug as well.

“When did you arrive?” Tora asked, weaving her arm through her sister’s.

“Never mind that!” Elsa said. “Have I missed it?”

“Missed what?”

“The wedding!”

“No, it isn’t for two weeks yet.”

Elsa sighed and smiled. “I’m so relieved. I was afraid you’d given up on my return and gone ahead with it.”

“Much to Trent’s chagrin; he wanted to elope long ago. But Tora was bound and determined to have her sister here,” Kaatje said, placing her hands on Elsa’s and Tora’s shoulders. “Trent would not have put up with yet another postponement. You came just in time.” She paused for a second. “And we’ve had other things going on around here.”

“Oh?”

“We’ll talk about all that later. Where are your children?” Tora asked, evading the issue.

“Out in the restaurant. We ran into Trent, and they’re with him and Karl.”

“Karl? Karl Martensen?” Kaatje asked as she winked at Tora. “Yes,” Elsa said.

“You’re falling in love,” Tora said, crossing her arms and circling Elsa in examination.

“What?”

“Why yes, that’s it,” Kaatje added, looking at her from the other side. “That high color, her demeanor…”

“I don’t know of what you speak,” Elsa said, lifting her chin, even as she smiled.

“Oh yes, you do,” Kaatje returned.

“You and Karl finally put two and two together,” Tora said. “It took you long enough.”

“Tora, we just were reunited,” Elsa said as if cross. “And I’ve been in mourning.”

“Yes, but you would never have given him a chance before.”

Elsa looked down at Jessica and Christina, who were glued to the women’s conversation. “Shouldn’t you two go and see my children? They’ve been asking after you for weeks!”

The girls left the kitchen, giggling and exchanging knowing looks.

Elsa took a step away, wiping her finger through the flour on the baking table absent-mindedly. “It’s true. It’s only recently that I felt…ready. I’m still not sure of what I’m doing. I am still not sure it’s love,” Elsa confessed.

“Of course you’re not sure of yourself; you are in love,” Kaatje said. Was that a wistful expression on her face? Tora examined her friend for a moment. Kaatje deserved to find that kind of love, the kind she and Trent had, the kind she could see blossoming in Elsa’s eyes. But was she thinking of her lout of a husband or of James Walker? Soren had certainly been persistent in pursuing her in the weeks he’d been back—but there was still something wrong, something underhanded about the man that she couldn’t quite pin down. On the other hand, Tora could sense a tension between Kaatje and James whenever they were together, as if something had happened between them those months on the trail. Poor Kaatje! Tora didn’t envy her position.

Tired suddenly, Tora pulled Kaatje in and hugged both Elsa and her friend at the same time. “Now I am ready to get married,” she said. “You are both here!”

“I am glad,” Elsa responded. “Because Mother sent a special present home with me.”

“Not a wedding costume,” Tora blurted out. Oh, how she had wished for one!

“Yes. The one that Grandmother, Mother, Carina, and I all wore. There is a lot of love represented in that costume. It will be perfect for you and Trent.”

“If only Trent would wear a bunad too!” Tora said, chuckling.

“Oh, he will. You marry a Norsk, you become a Norsk by marriage. It is only fitting that he wear a costume to match yours.”

Tora shook her head. “No. There is no way. Even you cannot convince my future husband to wear a bunad.”

“Tora Anders!” Elsa exclaimed, her slim eyebrows lowering in consternation. “We have been apart far too long! Have you forgotten? I am a captain on the high seas! I brought one home, just for him. Just give me some time—”

Kaatje laughed and nodded. “Yes, she’s used to ordering men around!”

A knock at the back door brought them all to silence. Kaatje walked toward it, her step light. Elsa’s arrival had lightened her burdens; Tora could see it in her face. But when she opened the door, her shoulders slumped. It was Soren.

If only they had had a chance to warn Elsa! She shot her sister a look, hoping to convey a bit of information in silence, but Soren was already coming through the door. Tora couldn’t bear to look at him, so great was her disdain. Instead she focused on Elsa and saw in her sister all that she felt.

“Why, if it isn’t the great Heroine of the Horn,” Soren said, opening his arms as if to embrace her.

“Soren,” she greeted him flatly, a bit breathless in her surprise. She made no move toward him.

He dropped his arms. “When did you get in to Juneau?”

“Just today.” She quickly found her lung capacity again. “The better question is, when did you? Or did your wife have to cover the entire Yukon before you came out of some cave?”

“Elsa!” Kaatje exclaimed. “Please.”

“Please what?” Elsa asked her, her face a mask of confusion—combining all the fury and fear that Tora had experienced these last weeks. “Please welcome the man who abandoned you? Oh, Kaatje! I knew you were looking for him, but frankly, I hoped you would find…forgive me.” She turned toward the kitchen door as if to flee. “I cannot be trusted not to say too much.” And with that, she left.

“Excuse me,” Tora said, wanting out as much as her sister. But Soren stopped her with a gentle hand.

“Are you never going to give me a chance either?” Soren asked.

“Let go of me, Soren.”

He dropped his hand obediently and raised it as if to show he had meant no harm.

Tora sighed. “I cannot speak for the future, Soren. I can only speak for today.” She shot a look at Kaatje, begging her forgiveness for what she had to say. “And today, I cannot give you another chance. I fear
that you are not as changed as you claim, and I fear for Kaatje.” Then she passed through the doors and walked across the restaurant floor to Trent and the others, forcing a smile.

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