by Kris Tualla
“That gives you time to train,” Collins said with a crooked grin. “Make us proud in Salt Lake.”
“Yes,” Tor ventured in English, then added, “Takk.”
“When do you leave?” Kyle asked him when the meeting in the officer’s club was finished and they were walking toward the mess hall.
“We board the bus at eight in the morning on the twenty-sixth. Pfeifer said it’s about eight or nine hours through the mountains if the roads are clear.”
She squinted up at him, the day’s bright sun on her face. “When is the actual competition?”
“We have the twenty-seventh to take practice runs and get familiar with the course,” Tor explained. “And on the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth we compete.”
“Do you come back on the thirtieth, then?”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
Truthfully he had been so focused on getting to the competition he hadn’t given any thought to when they’d return.
“So you’ll be gone five days.” Kyle frowned a little. “I wonder if I should request leave and go home while you’re gone. There won’t be anything for me to do here.”
Tor didn’t respond at first. For some reason, he wanted her to stay at the camp. If Kyle was at Camp Hale, then the only life she led was here. Nothing—and no one—outside this valley mattered.
“You want to see Erik,” he forced himself to say.
“I’ve never been away from home before and it’s been a long time since I left,” she deflected. “My basic training started in September, and then I waited a month here for you to arrive.”
She counted on her fingers. “Five months. And I missed Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“But you do want to see Erik,” he pressed.
“Of course I want to see my fiancé,” she snapped. “But that’s not the only reason to go.”
“You feel guilty for missing the holidays with your family. I can understand that.”
She wagged a negating finger. “No. Guilty isn’t the right word. It insinuates that I did something wrong by enlisting.”
“That’s fair,” he conceded. “And I know what you mean. I’ve missed a lot of time with my parents and my brother.”
“I’d have to fly from Denver to Fargo, North Dakota,” she mused aloud. “And then it’s about three hours’ drive north from there…”
Tor figured it couldn’t hurt to point out the flaw in her plan. “With three days off, you’d travel for two days and only have one day to spend with them.”
“And two nights. But you’re right.”
“Is it worth it?” he prodded.
“No.”
Tor relaxed. “So you’ll stay here.”
“No.” Kyle squinted up at him again. “I’ll ask for five days’ leave.”
Well that took an unexpected turn.
“And because I stayed through Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s, I bet I’ll get it.” She grinned. “Especially since you’ll be gone at the same time.”
Yeah, you probably will.
Tor sighed. “When will you put in the request?”
Kyle stopped short and looked at her watch. “Right now. If I make it to headquarters in three minutes, they’ll still be open.”
“Better run,” he muttered.
She was gone before he said run.
*****
Kyle banged on the door when she heard the knob rattle. “Please? I just need to turn in a form!”
She heard the groan from the other side, but the lock flipped. She pushed the door open and faced the disgruntled receptionist.
“I need to fill out a request for leave.”
The WAC scowled. “You said turn in a form, not fill out a form.”
“It will only take two minutes, I promise!” Kyle crossed her heart.
“Since it’d take me longer than that to have you forcibly removed, I might as well let you. Come on.” The pudgy gal led Kyle to her desk and the stacked tray of forms.
She pulled one out of the third tray and handed it to Kyle. “I suppose you need a pen.”
“Please.”
That came out of her collar.
Kyle was true to her word and filled out the form in a flash. Luckily, she knew the exact dates because Tor had just told her when he was going to be gone.
“Here. And thank you!”
“I’d say anytime, but I’d be lying.” The WAC set the paper on her desk and tucked the pen back inside the front of her uniform. “Now get out of here so I can lock up.”
Kyle obeyed.
She walked back to the mess since there was no need to run. The sudden inspiration to ask for leave and go back to Viking made all the sense in the world. With five days off, she would have plenty of time to spend with Erik and her parents and the two days of travel would be worth it.
Once the request was approved, she’d write to Erik and ask him to pick her up in Fargo. That would give her a chance to talk to him privately when she first arrived and not have to be awkwardly kissing him hello in front of her parents.
I hope it goes through.
She found Tor inside the mess hall talking to Torger Tokle.
“That was a great run if you slalomed the whole way,” Torger said. “You’ll be in the thick of the competition.”
Tor turned to her. “Did you make it in time?”
“Yes. Barely.”
“Good.”
Was it her imagination, or did he look irritated?
Tor returned his attention to the other Norwegian. “My translator has decided to ask for leave while we are on the trip, instead of sitting around camp and twiddling her thumbs.”
Yep. Irritated.
But why?
“Oh, I’d do much more than just sitting around and thumb twiddling,” she retorted. “I’d lollygag and fidget. Stare at the wall. Maybe even brush up on my shenanigans.”
Torger Tokle guffawed.
Tor scowled. “I get your point, Lieutenant.”
Kyle smiled overly sweetly. “I knew you would. Not one wasted brain cell in that skull.”
Torger was still chuckling. “You two sound like an old married couple.”
Tor threw up his hands. “Heaven forbid!”
All of Kyle’s happiness at the prospect of getting leave crashed and splintered around her feet. She couldn’t even think of anything to say.
Her expression must have screamed something because Tor was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. That came out wrong.”
Kyle tried to smile but couldn’t make her face cooperate. “Of course. You weren’t saying that marriage to me would be horrible. You were saying that marriage in general would be horrible.”
“Well, I—”
“Because you have plenty of fish in this sea.” She glared at him. “And you know how to cast a line.”
Tor shook his head. “No, I—”
Kyle turned to Torger who stood silently with his hand over his mouth, his brows in his hairline, and his gaze shifting back and forth.
“The Captain may not have told you, Sergeant,” Kyle said slowly, “but I am engaged. I’m going home to spend time with my fiancé, whom I haven’t seen in five months.”
Torger’s hand lowered. “That does sound like a better choice than twiddling to me.”
“Thank you. I agree.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder in Tor’s direction. “This one will be your responsibility while I’m gone.”
She took two steps away from the men before she turned back around. “Try not to lose him. He doesn’t speak English.”
With a wave of her fingers, she left the mess. She didn’t have an appetite anymore.
Chapter
Sixteen
January 26, 1944
Kyle sat across the table from Tor at breakfast on the morning they were both leaving Camp Hale. He had apologized profusely for his spontaneous reaction to Torger’s comment, and continued to do so even after Kyle assured him she wasn’t mad any more.
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br /> “It just sounded bad, like there was something wrong with me as a person,” she kept telling him. “It doesn’t mean I want to marry you or anything like that.”
She thought the matter was finally put to rest and she focused her thoughts on Erik, not Tor.
Because Erik is the man I love.
Why did it feel like she was trying to convince herself?
She gave the man across the table a good, hard look. What she saw was the raw beauty she noticed when she first saw him: sandy hair, bright blue eyes, a tall frame with just the right amount of noticeable muscle. But now that she knew him, she saw another layer.
He was intelligent. He was kind—their recent kerfuffle notwithstanding. He was amazing on skis. He was quick to act when Kossin was injured, and strong enough to carry the private to safety. And Tor visited him in the hospital, assuring the soldier that he would not lose his chance to be part of the Tenth.
His only fault was that he was temporary. When the Tenth Division shipped out, Tor would be gone from her life forever.
And Kyle would eventually return to her normal life. That was what was going to happen. Nothing was going to change that for either of them.
“What are you pondering so intently?” Tor asked.
Kyle yanked her thoughts back into the mess hall. “Nothing. Just that I’ll be home today.”
“I was afraid you were still upset,” he admitted. “You looked so serious.”
Kyle decided to let that slide rather than get into it all again. “I’m hoping that the weather in Minnesota doesn’t prevent Erik from getting to Fargo or us from getting back to Viking.”
Tor chuckled. “There was a time when getting back to Viking had a whole different meaning.”
Kyle rolled her eyes. “I know. Viking is a verb. And you think it’s a stupid name for a town.”
Tor shrugged and pushed his clean plate forward. “Wish me luck?”
She smiled. “I do. I hope you make Camp Hale proud.”
“I hope I make Friedl Pfeifer proud,” Tor countered. “I need to stay on the team.”
Kyle noticed that Tor often used the word need in reference to skiing. The man really loved the sport and it showed.
“I have full confidence in you, Captain Hansen.”
“You know, in days of old a lady would give her favor to a competitor before he entered the competition.” Tor’s blue eyes sparkled. “Might I receive your favor, my lady?”
Kyle laughed at his silliness. “Why good sir, what sort of favor does thou wish for? A kiss?”
Why did I say that?
“That would be most enjoyable and I shall claim it.” Tor’s gaze softened. “I was thinking of a token.”
Kyle stared at him, curious. “Like what?”
Tor tapped his chin with the spoon he stirred his coffee with. “It needs to be something small enough to fit inside my shirt.”
Kyle reached into the pocket of her trousers.
“Like a handkerchief? Wasn’t that the usual token?” She handed Tor the plain white square of cotton. “It’s not embroidered or anything. But you can have it if you’re serious. I have plenty more.”
Tor took it from her. “Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Kyle’s face warmed. “Well, isn’t it usually a love thing?”
“Sometimes, sure. But it’s more a symbol of support. Loyalty. That sort of thing.” Tor tucked the folded square into his own pocket.
“I do hope you ski well,” Kyle said. “And I can’t wait to hear about it.”
“I’m sure I will, now that I have my own good luck charm.” He grinned impishly. “From a real Vikinger.”
*****
Kyle settled into a window seat of the airplane and fastened her seatbelt. Her WAC uniform seemed to be garnering attention and she really just wanted to be left alone.
On the three-hour ride to the Denver airport it felt weird not to be the driver, but she had no complaints about the private from the motor pool completing the task. She took the front passenger seat and was surprised when a sergeant opened the car door and climbed into the back seat.
He introduced himself as Sergeant Camden and said he was going to Denver to pick up a special piece of equipment for the camp dentist rather than wait for it to be shipped to the camp.
“Doctor McDavid is eager to get his hands on it,” the sergeant explained. “But I have no idea what it is or what it does. Just that it’s new and expensive.”
“Well I’m glad for the company,” their driver said as he headed out of the camp. “Three hours with only myself to talk to gets boring. Turns out I’m not a great conversationalist.”
Kyle smiled at the jest.
A man dropped into the aisle seat across from Kyle and stared at her. “You in the army?” he asked abruptly.
Kyle turned to look at him. “Women’s Army Corps. Yes.”
He shook his head in disgust. “Women are meant to serve in the home and in the family. That’s their rightful place.”
Kyle turned to look out the window and didn’t say anything. She’d heard it before, and nothing she could say would change his mind.
“You mean to tell me you can do what a man does?” he challenged.
“Hey, buddy,” the man behind him said. “Leave her alone.”
Oh, no.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
A middle-aged woman sat next to Kyle becoming a buffer between her and the loud-mouth. Kyle offered a brief smile and turned back to the window.
“She’s serving the country,” her defender said. “The uniform deserves respect no matter who’s wearing it.”
Kyle’s new seatmate leaned against her shoulder and whispered, “What’s he on about?”
Kyle drew a steadying breath and faced the woman and whispered back. “He says women should be in the home, not in the army.”
The woman snorted. “Idiot.”
“Serving the country?” the first man sneered. “Or servicing the soldiers?”
Kyle doubted the man saw what was coming.
Her middle-aged seatmate had a very large purse on her lap, and it made a very satisfying sound when she swung it across the aisle and flattened the offender’s nose. Kyle clapped her hand over her mouth to hold back her laugh.
“That’s for every woman serving in this war!” the woman shouted. “They’re doing more than you are!”
Passengers in nearby seats heartily applauded.
“Hey! By dose is bleedink!”
A stewardess rushed forward with a towel. “Fasten your seatbelt sir. We’re getting ready for take-off.”
He pointed at the woman with the purse. “But she hit be!”
“You deserved it,” the stewardess said bluntly. “And I’ll throw you off the flight if you continue to be rude.”
The man grunted and held the towel to his nose.
Kyle’s grinning seatmate turned to face her. “My name’s Mary. What’s yours?”
*****
Tor watched the scenery moving past the window as the rumbling Army bus wound its way through the Rocky Mountains, carrying the eleven-man ski team on the four-hundred-mile journey to Salt Lake City. It felt like home.
The soaring, snow-covered peaks and the narrow valleys cut between them reminded him so much of Norway that his chest tightened with longing.
When would he be able to go home again, he wondered. And what would he find when he did?
Thinking about Norway made him think of his parents and he said a quick prayer for their safety and health. And he also thought about his younger brother, Teigen, whose wartime experiences in Nazi-occupied Norway had been much harder than anything Tor had gone through up to now.
Teigen had been arrested, imprisoned, and spent seven months in a German labor camp in Kirkenes—a small northern Norwegian town deep in the Arctic Circle and bordering Russia. When Tor looked for Teigen before leaving Norway, he found his brother in Bergen.
Teigen had joined the resist
ance by then and was working on the ground to disrupt German activities.
Tor made a point of telling Teigen that he was proud to be his big brother.
Teigen’s surprising response was, “Thank you for saying that. Your shoes are hard to fill.”
Startled, Tor replied with, “Don’t follow me, Teig. Walk your own path.”
The brothers had hugged then, with the solid kind of hug that, if they never saw each other again, they would not find this moment lacking in any way.
I love you, Teig. Stay strong.
Tor stretched, scratched his head, and turned away from the window to look at the other men on the bus.
If he could speak English without risking Kyle’s assignment, he would confess to being star struck by the skiers whose names he recognized. Several of America’s champions—also denied their Winter Olympics—had enlisted to be ski instructors at Camp Hale.
“How’re you doing?” Torger sat in the seats behind Tor. “Does this make you homesick?”
“Are you reading my mind?” Tor joked.
Torger chuckled. “Don’t have to. I feel it myself.”
“Will you go back?” Tor asked. “When the war ends?”
Torger looked wistful. “I don’t know, to be honest. I guess I’ll have to decide when the time comes.”
Tor had a different plan. “Norway is my country, and I expect to go back as soon as I’m able.”
“You forget, I’ve been living and competing in this country for five years.” Torger looked apologetic. “They have so many opportunities here that aren’t available back home.”
Tor smiled. “You still call it home.”
Torger shrugged. “We don’t always live at home, though, do we?”
That’s an interesting concept.
“No,” Tor conceded. “I don’t suppose we do.”
*****
Kyle waited until the rude man with the bloodied nose got off the plane in Fargo before she even stood up. The last thing she wanted right now was another reason to be anxious, so letting him withdraw seemed the wisest choice.
