by Amanda Boone
Elise examined the sparse furnishings as she set her bag on the floor in a corner. They had only the essentials for a family of three—a Victorian sofa, a padded chair, and a kitchen table with four chairs around it. She assumed the fourth chair was in case one of them had a guest for dinner.
She would have liked to see a footstool or two, but there were none. That didn’t matter, though. She had plenty of money with which to purchase one for each of them.
Then she noticed something in the corner of the kitchen that surprised her—an icebox. She had seen pictures of them, but she’d never lived anywhere that had one. The prospect of using one unexpectedly excited her.
When Mauritz removed his hat, Elise stared at the mass of curly blond hair he had. He obviously hadn’t had a haircut in quite a while, but Elise found the curls attractive on him. He was tall, too, taller than Lars. She herself was tall for a woman, but not overly so. Other than buying certain items of clothing, she liked being tall, too.
Speaking in Swedish, Elise said, “Thank you for meeting us at the stagecoach, Mr. Sten.”
With a wide grin, he replied in Swedish as well. “Please, call me Moya. And you’re welcome. There are two bedrooms here. One room is bigger than the other and has two beds. The other room has just one bed.”
“We’ll take the bigger room,” Stina offered. “We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you, Elise. You deserve to have your own room.”
“Thanks, Stina,” Elise said. “I appreciate that.”
Turning toward Moya, Elise smiled up at him. He was really quite attractive, with classically Swedish looks—the long face, the slightly larger nose, the blue eyes and blond hair. What she liked most was that his entire face lit up when he smiled.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Anderson?” he asked, still in Swedish.
“If I’m to call you Moya, you must call me Elise. And I can’t think of anything else.”
“Then I’ll leave you to your unpacking. Lars will come visit you after he finishes work.”
“All right. Thank you again, Moya.”
“Yes, thank you,” Stina inserted. “We appreciate your help, right, Karin?”
“We do,” Karin added in her reserved tone. “Thank you.”
“Then,” Moya said, “good day, ladies. I hope to see you around town often.”
When he said the last sentence, he gazed directly into Elise’s eyes. The grin on his lips made her heart feel as though it skipped a beat. So far, she liked Moya a lot, but she had just met him, too. She needed to get to know him so she could make a determination as to if she could see more of him in the future.
After the door closed behind Moya, the women dispersed to their rooms with their respective baggage. As Elise unpacked and put her clothes into the armoire in the corner of her room, she wished she could learn more about Moya. Unfortunately, she had no doubt that Lars expected them to resume their courtship. Why else had he invited her to join him?
He’d said that he missed her. He’d said that he wanted her to join him. Unfortunately, he’d never said that he loved her. One thing her father had told her before he’d died was that she should never be with a man who couldn’t express his love for her in words. He’d said it several times, too, so she knew it was important to him that she not forget his advice. She wouldn’t forget, either. She would honor her father by remembering his main death-bed concern.
She picked up the Swedish Bible that she’d previously laid on the nightstand and held her father’s book to her chest.
“I can’t believe I’ve done this, fader,” she said to the empty room. “I can’t believe that I started out in New York and ended up in California. It’s been a long, trying trip, but here I am. Now what do I do, fader? I came without the man I followed using the words I love you.
“The only reason I came was because Mrs. Bengtson said that I should. Now that I’m here, I worry that I made a mistake. Lars didn’t even care enough to meet me at the stage. Instead, he sent Moya. Have I been naïve in thinking that this would work out for me? Maybe I should have listened to my heart where Lars is concerned.
“I told you before that I didn’t think I love him, yet I came here, anyway. How foolhardy could I be!
“Now that I’m here, though, the first person I met is a very nice young man, who reminds me a lot of you.”
She startled at the statement and dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed. She hadn’t even considered that. Moya reminded her of her father. Maybe that was why she wanted to get to know him better. Was that wise? Was it a good start to a courtship? Or even a mere friendship?
Chapter 6
When Lars stopped by the house later that evening, he greeted Elise with a long hug. Elise hugged him in return, if for no other reason than to see if she could feel some emotion about him. To her dismay, she felt nothing other than relief that he was glad that she was there.
“I’m glad you made it safely,” he told Elise as they sat on the porch steps.
“I was a bit surprised that it went mored smoothly than I expected. I think I read too many articles about how Jesse and Frank James robbed trains. I was always expecting it to happen to us.”
“You were perfectly fine, though.”
“I know, but that didn’t stop my thoughts.”
“I suppose not.” He paused before he asked, “Do you have any ideas about how you’re going to support yourselves here?”
Startled by his question, Elise said, “I thought people here needed an English teacher or an interpreter.”
“They do, but the men are more interested in having a good woman to marry. Until they find a man, though, Stina and Karin need to support themselves.”
“I’m sure they can take a job as a housekeeper or seamstress or laundress. My question is when can I start teaching English?”
“As soon as you’re ready,” he replied, taking her hand in his. “And we can continue our courtship from Bishop Hill.”
Something in the back of her mind alerted her. He had said that he missed her in his letter, but he didn’t say that to her now that she was with him. Would he ever admit it? What should she do if he didn’t?
Elise yawned, exhausted by the long trip she’d had.
“You’re tired,” Lars said. “I’ll go so you can get some rest. I know how hard it is to sleep on trains.”
“Thank you,” Elise replied. “I’m glad you understand.”
When she started to rise, Lars scrambled to his feet and helped her from her seat. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head toward hers. Elise stiffened. He was going to kiss her! Did she want it?
His lips met hers for the first time. Even in Bishop Hill he hadn’t kissed her. Why now? His tongue taunted her lips until she opened them slightly. It slid passed them into her mouth and touched her tongue. It was nice, but …
He pulled away and gazed into her eyes. The piercing blue of his orbs caught Elise’s attention, and their pleading expression melted her heart just a little.
“Thank you, Elise,” he said. “We’ve never kissed before, and I wanted to remedy that. Good night.”
“Good night,” she replied absently as she turned to go into the house.
Once inside, she collapsed onto the sofa where Stina was sitting. The kiss had been a surprise, and she had reacted positively by kissing him back. Her reaction, however, had been more from instinct than from excitement of the moment.
“Did you like it?” Stina asked.
“Like what?” Elise replied, too tired to be startled by the question.
“The kiss. Does he kiss good?”
“That’s well, not good. I don’t know, Stina. I’ve never been kissed before, not by a suitor, anyway.”
Stina sighed. “You’re so lucky, Elise. We just got here, and you have a suitor.”
“You know that’s only because he courted me in Bishop Hill. If he hadn’t, you would be the first one with a suitor. You’ll meet somebody before y
ou know it.” Elise shifted on the padded cushion so she could look directly at her friend. “Do you have any idea what you might want to do to contribute to finances until you find a man who wants to marry you?”
“Why do you say it that way?”
“Because we’re basically mail-order brides. That’s why we came here, so men could meet us and marry us and settle down.”
“I don’t understand. What is a mail-order bride?”
“The men here want wives, so Lars wrote to me about coming out here and bringing women with me. I don’t know how much the men here know about you and Karin, but I do know that Lars has told several about you.”
“What about Lars?” Stina asked. “Did he ask you here so he could marry you?”
“He hasn’t said so, but I suspect it. Why else would he kiss me when he never has before? He wants to lay claim to me before another man can do it, I suppose.”
“You don’t sound happy about marrying him.”
“For one thing, Stina,” Elise explained, “he’s never given me any indication that he wants to marry me, and for another thing, I practically promised my father that I would never marry a man who couldn’t tell me that he loves me.” Elise rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. I can’t tell you how ready I am for a good night’s sleep in a real bed.”
***
The next morning, Elise began her quest to become a teacher and interpreter. The first place she went was to the office of the Pacific Lumber Company. Mr. Jared Coleman, the owner to whom she spoke, told her that no one had ever mentioned about her interpreting for the company and that he had no intention of sending a woman into the forest where logging was underway. She asked about the possibility of opening a school where she could teach English to Swedes.
“Now, that would be a good idea,” Mr. Coleman said. “I suppose we could set up an area where everyone could congregate at night. Maybe the church could handle everybody, or maybe you could use the schoolhouse.”
“How much do you think I should charge them?” Elise asked. “I have no idea how much they can afford.”
“Don’t worry about that, Miss Anderson. I won’t send a woman into the forest, but I will send my lumberjacks to you. I will pay you a weekly salary that will more than compensate for your work. It will be worth it to ease the communication problems we have here.”
“I appreciate that, sir. When would you like me to start?”
“Will next Monday be too soon?”
“It would be perfect. Thank you.”
Elise began to leave the office when his voice stopped her.
“And, Miss Anderson, would you be willing to teach me some Swedish? I have an awful lot of Swedes here, and it would help me a great deal if I could communicate with them, as well.”
“Certainly, I could.”
“Wonderful,” he said. “Would you come to my home tonight and teach me and my daughter? It would be nice if she spoke a second language, too.”
Before she left, Elise got the address, and Mr. Coleman gave her directions to his home. He also offered to pay her what she considered an extravagant amount. Maybe, she decided, if it was this easy for her to get a job, she could repay the Bengtsons by providing for their daughters until they found husbands.
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 vasn’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.”
