by Kris Tualla
Twenty Seven
June 21, 1944
Exactly one month had passed since Kyle asked Tor to engage with her in a secret affair. Being with him was absolute bliss—as long as she kept Tor and Erik in separate compartments of her heart.
Erik was a solid house. Tor was a tent pitched in some wild wood. In the end, the tent would be taken down and the house would survive.
They quickly fell into a pattern, retreating into the woods around the camp after supper and finding sanctuary away from curious eyes. Tor brought a blanket the second night and Kyle left it in the jeep so they always had it. They spread it on the fragrant needle-covered ground and laid on it together.
Their kisses moved to touches. The touches became more intimate. Tor seemed to be letting Kyle set the pace and she took him forward bit by bit. The first time she reached inside his trousers was an amazing night.
She’d never taken hold of Erik so she had no frame of reference, but Tor’s manhood fascinated her. Hard, yet covered in softness at the same time. Sensitive and powerful. Pulsating with his release.
“My turn,” he whispered.
When Tor’s hand moved between her thighs the heavens above opened up, leaving Kyle stunned and boneless. Still panting and quivering, she pulled him close and cried, her face pressed to his neck.
“I—I never…”
“So I gathered.” He kissed her hair. “I hope that was all right.”
She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. “More than. It was wonderful.”
After that evening they found pleasure and release with each other nearly every night. Afterwards they would lay side-by-side on one blanket and covered against the night chill by another, watching the sky, and talking.
Kyle found that almost as pleasurable as their sex play.
“Tell me about your home,” she asked one night. Her nether parts were still throbbing, her panties damp, and her blouse unbuttoned and open.
Tor was shirtless, the fly of his trousers gaped wide, and the waistband of his boxers rested just above the nest of coarse hair that housed his manhood.
“What do you want to know?” His voice held a post-peak smokiness that she loved.
“Everything.”
Tor sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We’re an old family. Hansen Hall goes back to the Vikingers.”
“Hansen Hall?” Kyle was impressed. “Is it a mansion?”
Tor snorted. “No. But it’s good sized.”
Kyle turned on her side to face him and tucked the top blanket against her back. “What does it look like?”
“Well in front and to one side is the original round Vikinger tower from, I don’t know, a thousand years ago or so.”
“Are you serious?” Kyle was shocked; nothing in America touched that ancient age. “A thousand years?”
“Yeah. We only use it for storage now.” Tor moved his hands in the air above them, creating an imaginary drawing of the house. “Attached to that is the medieval section, which was built in the late twelve hundreds, I think. It’s very typical of the era, with a huge Great Hall, enormous stone fireplace, and a stone staircase to the sleeping chambers on the upper floor.”
His hands moved farther to the side. “Then the modern addition was added.” He turned his head and winked at her. “A little over two hundred years ago.”
Kyle was astounded. “What’s in the modern part?”
“Indoor kitchen. Huge dining room. Back staircase. More bedrooms. And eventually indoor toilets and showers.”
Kyle thought of her parents’ cozy little home and Erik’s two-story farmhouse and they paled against Tor’s description of his ancestral estate. “Well it sounds like a mansion to me.”
“It looks a little odd on the outside,” Tor admitted. “But inside the different parts aren’t noticeable, thanks to generations of clever Hansen women and wives.”
“I wish I could see it,” she said without thinking. “It sounds amazing.”
Tor’s hands lowered to his waist. “Maybe someday you and Erik can visit Arendal.”
Kyle felt a stab of guilt and her mood cooled. “I don’t think so.”
Tor shrugged. “You don’t know. In twenty years maybe you’ll come visit me and my wife and our dozen children.”
That made Kyle laugh. “Yes, maybe we will.”
“I’ll leave a light in the tower so you can find me.”
For some reason that silly promise tore at Kyle’s core and brought tears to her eyes. She refused to wipe them so Tor wouldn’t notice them.
Change the subject.
“Can you trace your family back to the Vikingers, then?”
“Not quite. They didn’t write anything down back then.” He turned his head to look at her. “The really solid information starts in the mid-thirteen hundreds with a man named Rydar, who had a Scottish wife named Grier. He reestablished the family after the Black Death.”
Fascinating. “How’d he get a Scottish wife?”
“The story is that he lived in the Greenland settlement from the age of ten to thirty, then sailed back to Norway picking up a wife along the way.”
Kyle was intrigued. “Nothing in my past is this interesting. My family all came from little Solbergelva west of Oslo. Do you know anything else about him?”
“A little. I know he was the one to add the chapel to Hansen Hall so the family could celebrate the Mass at home. He, Grier, and their children are all buried inside it.”
Six-hundred-year-old graves aside, Kyle was surprised by the chapel’s purpose. “Are you Catholic?”
He wagged his head on the blanket. “Not now. But in the thirteen hundreds you were either Catholic or pagan.”
“Oh. Right.” She had learned that in her Lutheran catechism.
“And we know from documents that my mother found in the tower that the Hansens became Christians back in ten-seventy when King Olav the Second declared Norway a Christian country.”
“I love hearing all this,” Kyle said truthfully.
She laid on her back again and snuggled closer to Tor, closing her blouse and buttoning it. Even in June the nighttime temperatures at this altitude were chilly.
Tor also pulled his clothes together. “Are you cold?”
“A little.”
“Let’s head back to the jeep.” Tor climbed to his feet and helped her up.
He pulled his shirt on over his head and shook out the blankets while she ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed her uniform. “Will you tell me more stories?”
“Sure. If you’re really interested.”
“I really am.” When he looked at her, his skeptical expression visible in the dim light, she said it again. “I think it’s incredible that you know all this.”
“Okay. Well,” he scratched his head. “I guess I’ll go chronologically.”
As they walked back Tor told her about Jakob Hansen, the Renaissance knight who served King Henry the Eighth.
“No!” Kyle said. “Really?”
“Yep. Married Queen Catherine’s lady-in-waiting. In fact—watch your step here.”
Tor took her hand and helped her over a fallen log before he continued. “She was Spanish and she owned her own trade ships. Her contracts with my Hansen ancestor helped make our family’s shipping business successful enough to survive all these years.”
Kyle shook her head in awe. “Amazing.”
Tor was clearly warming to the subject. “Then in the mid-seventeen hundreds, Martin Hansen moved to America. He married a woman he met on the ship.”
Kyle smiled at that. “How romantic!”
“I guess.” Tor cleared his throat. “Their son fought in the Revolutionary War and then married the granddaughter of King Christian the Sixth.”
“More royal connections,” Kyle observed. “I’m impressed.”
Tor grinned at that. “It gets better. After Norway was taken away from Denmark and given to Sweden in eighteen-fourteen, their son Nicolas candidated for a reclaimed Norwegian
throne.”
Kyle looked at Tor in disbelief. “But he was American—wasn’t he?”
“He was. But he was also fully Norwegian and had royal blood.” Tor looked down at her. “He didn’t become king.”
She laughed. “Obviously. What happened to him?”
Tor frowned. “I think he ran for some office. I don’t remember.”
“I think this is fascinating.” She made a face. “Nothing in my family is half so fascinating.”
Tor stopped next to the jeep. “I almost forgot Brander Hansen. He was Martin’s uncle.”
Kyle looked at him across the open-topped vehicle. “What did he do?”
“He was deaf.” Tor grinned. “But that didn’t stop him from becoming a private investigator who worked for King Christian the Sixth.”
“The same one whose granddaughter married the soldier?”
“Yep. Now remember…” Tor opened the jeep’s passenger door. “Norway’s not a big country. There are more connections than you’d believe.”
As she took her spot behind the steering wheel Kyle couldn’t help but wish that Tor’s fascinating family could somehow be hers. “You said your mother found documents in the tower.”
“She did. She’s been digging through there for the last few years. I think she means to write a book about the Hansen’s history.”
“I’d like to read that.” Kyle started the engine. “I know that sounds crazy, but if I give you my address in Viking will you send me a copy if she does?”
“Sure.” Tor’s expression was unreadable. “But don’t hold your breath. Even if she does manage it, it’ll be a few years.”
Kyle smiled at him. “I’ll wait.”
July 4, 1944
“It’s our Independence Day, so of course the Army makes a big deal about it.” Kyle winked up at Tor. “You have a relative that fought in America’s Revolution, so you should be proud, too.”
She had a point, except that, “He was a different branch of the family. I descended from his brother.”
“Close enough.” Kyle turned her attention back to the main street of Leadville. “Just be glad you don’t have to march in the parade.”
Tor eyed the Pastime Bar across the street. It was the same one where Dale Maple accosted Kyle many months ago.
“Do you remember that?” he asked her. “I knew then that the guy was trouble.”
Kyle’s expression hardened. “He’ll get his due. He’s been sentenced to death.”
Tor leaned down and spoke in Kyle’s ear. “Interested in a beer?”
She looked over at the tavern. “Do you think they’re open?”
As if to answer her the front door opened and a pair of soldiers walked out.
She looked up at Tor. “Let’s go.”
They settled at a small table by a window so they could watch the parade from inside the cool bar instead of standing along the crowded main street in the strong midday sun.
Tor ordered two pints of stout and pulled out his wallet. “Do you want any food?”
“No, thank you. But you go ahead if you want.”
He did want. Tor ordered a brisket sandwich and fries.
Kyle’s glance swept the front room in the tavern. “This is actually the only local bar I’ve been in since I came to Colorado.”
Tor laid a few bills on the table. “With so much to do at the camp there’s not much reason to come into town.”
“Only two that I can think of.” Kyle held up one finger. “You’re a guy looking for a gal and a good time, or…”
She held up a second finger. “You scored an overnight pass and don’t have to be back at Camp Hale by eleven.”
Tor laughed. “Which is actually helpful only if reason number one works out.”
Kyle smiled. “Point made.”
Tor’s sandwich arrived at the table just as the parade began. It was a patriotic mix of civilian and military talents with band music, precision drill demonstrations, floats sponsored by local businesses and—of course—a parade queen and her court sitting atop hay bales on a flatbed wagon, waving and throwing kisses and candy at the enthusiastic crowd.
“I’m looking forward to the fireworks later.” Kyle snatched one of Tor’s fries and bit it in half. “They’re always fun.”
“I’m looking forward to them too.” Tor lowered his voice. “Our fireworks are always spectacular.”
Kyle’s eyes widened briefly when she caught his meaning and her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Thank you,” he answered mischievously. “I do try my best.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “Is that your best?”
Challenge accepted.
“Just wait until tonight,” he growled. “I’ll have you begging for mercy.”
Kyle put the rest of the fry in her mouth, her gray-green eyes bright with anticipation.
Chapter
Twenty Eight
July 25, 1944
Kyle swatted another mosquito while she waited in the jeep for Tor to return from overnight mountain climbing maneuvers. She had the top put back on the jeep to protect her from the blazing sun, but the damn mosquitoes weren’t deterred at all.
The weather during the day was a pleasant seventy degrees—when it wasn’t raining—but the nights still dropped below forty before the sun came up. Kyle and Tor knew to grab the hours right after sunset for their wooded trysts. And they always kept most of their clothes on because of the cooling air.
Somehow that didn’t dampen any of the mood, but for Kyle it lessened the intimacy. In her mind, if they weren’t naked, it wasn’t a serious relationship. That fit her personal definition of a fling perfectly.
What she hadn’t counted on, however, was how well she had gotten to know Tor. Their private talks under the trees, changing moon, and stars had reached depths that she never discussed with Erik. In truth, she’d had more conversations with Tor during these past two months than she’d had with Erik over the last two years. She told herself that was because she’d known Erik all her life and there was little she didn’t already know about him. Tor was an exotic stranger who came from a different world.
That didn’t explain away his telling her his deepest fears, though.
“I was never as good in school as my younger brother Teigen,” he admitted one night. “So I decided to excel in things he wasn’t as good at.”
“Like skiing?” she asked.
“Yes, but that came easy to me. I was stupidly fearless when I was younger, so I learned at the risk of my life at most times.” Tor chuckled softly. “Please don’t tell my mother.”
“I won’t.” Kyle crossed her heart in mock solemnity. “In twenty years when I visit you and your wife and your dozen children, I promise not to tell your elderly parents anything about your reckless youth.”
“Thank you.” Tor’s sigh was nostalgic. “When I saw Teigen last, he said my shoes were hard to fill. He has no idea how hard I ran to stay ahead of him.”
Kyle had propped her head on one elbow to look at him. “You’re a very intelligent man, Tor. I don’t understand what you mean.”
He smiled crookedly. “Teigen is school smart. He went to university and got a degree in chemistry and became an upper-level school teacher.”
The respect in Tor’s voice tugged at Kyle’s heart. “I didn’t go to university. Instead I worked and trained and competed my way into the Winter Olympic Games that never happened.”
Kyle understood Tor’s disappointment. “But you still achieved something that very few people in the world could match, Tor. And it’s obvious that the other competitive skiers here respect you a lot.”
“I know…” There was nothing conceited in his tone. “I joined the Norwegian Army as soon as we were invaded because my opportunities disappeared overnight with the Nazi occupation.”
“It may have been the only path you thought was open to you at the time,” Kyle countered, “but you are a damn go
od leader and your men respect you.”
Tor looked at her then, his eyes wide and his cheeks drawn. “So what will I do when it’s over?”
She still didn’t have an answer for him.
The platoon appeared around a curve in the road, marching toward the jeep at double-pace. The soldiers each carried a pack with their sleeping bag and tent, and they all had their skis strapped on their backs as well. Even though they weren’t skiing now, they would have to carry their skis with them when they climbed the Alps.
Tor jogged alongside his men. The bulk of his arms, whose contours she had become so familiar with, were on display in his short-sleeved summer uniform and he was taller than all but one soldier in his squad.
Kyle sighed as she watched him approach.
He’s so sexy.
And, for now, he was all hers.
*****
Today was Saturday and most of the soldiers were heading into town after supper. They invited Tor—who was using more and more English when he wasn’t around Kyle—to come along.
“I have decided to go into town with the men tonight,” he told Kyle as he climbed into the jeep. “We’ll take a bus in after supper.”
She started the engine. “That sounds like fun.”
“I’m sorry, but I wanted to tell you right away in case you wanted to make plans of your own.”
Kyle shot him a sideways look. “One of the rules of a fling is that individual plans can be made separately.”
Tor lifted one brow. “Did you just make that up?”
Kyle shifted gears. “Yep.”
Tor approved. “I think that’s a very good rule as long as the majority of the trysts aren’t overshadowed by the individual plans. Don’t you agree?”
Kyle laughed. “You sound like a lawyer negotiating terms of a contract.”
“And rightly so. This fling thing is serious business.”
Kyle looked at him as if trying to figure out if he was mocking her. “Is it?”
Tor shrugged and smiled at her. “Seems to be. But what do I know? It’s my first one.”
Kyle dropped him at his barracks. “I’m going to check the mail and I’ll be back to get you for supper.”
