by Amanda Boone
“What can I do for you, Lars?” she asked as she studied Gloria’s reaction to his presence.
Her employee focused on the pair of denim dungarees she was scrubbing on the washboard. Gloria didn’t look up from her work and, in fact, made a more concerted effort to get the pair of pants clean. Stina had watched Gloria many times when Lars came into the laundry, but she’d never noticed a reaction from the woman, probably because she hadn’t paid attention. Stina was sure of it now, though. Something had happened between the two of them.
“I just came to let you know that Palmer is in a lot of pain, but Doc is letting him go home. I guess he’s got a few friends who agreed to stay with him in shifts.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Last night you seemed concerned about him not having a job. Now you don’t need to wonder. He’s in good hands.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Is there anything else?”
“That was it, except it gave me an excuse to see you again.”
Despite the warmth of the washhouse, Stina shivered. She could no longer bear to be in the same room with Lars, and she couldn’t wait until he left the building.
“We’re really busy today, Lars,” Stina said. “If that’s all you have to say, you may as well leave.”
“You don’t have to act like that, Stina,” Lars said. “I was just trying to do something you would appreciate.”
“I do. Now go find something to do because we’re busy.”
Lars stormed out of the building without another word. Beside Stina, Gloria released an audible sigh. It was almost as if Gloria was afraid of Lars and was as glad as Stina to see him leave.
Stina picked up a fancy blouse and began to work a spot in it with a bar of lye soap. Trying her best to be casual, she questioned Gloria.
“I know you don’t like Lars,” Stina said, “but you seem extra nervous around him today.”
“Did you know that he found Rollie Parker yesterday?” Gloria asked. “Did you know he found Moya Sten, too?”
“He mentioned that to me last night.”
“Do you think he could have been behind their accidents?”
Stina tensed, unsure how to answer. Yes, she did think so, but she didn’t want Gloria to know it until she was sure Lars had attacked Gloria. She didn’t want to spread rumors about him that might not be true because she knew what it was like to have rumors spread. That’s what had happened in Bishop Hill, and it was why she’d left there. The rumors and Lars were why she left, anyway.
To avoid answering Gloria’s question, Stina asked, “What do you mean behind their accidents? How could that be possible? Hasn’t Lars always been at work when they happened?”
“Do you know that he paid me for sex a few times?”
Stina gasped, feigning a surprise that she didn’t feel. “I had no idea.”
“He was too rough, and I refused to let him near me after the fourth time. He was livid!”
“Livid? What is that?”
“Really angry. I was afraid he was going to beat me up.”
“But he didn’t, right?” Stina prompted.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Gloria said. “I don’t even like to think about him.”
“Then I’ll tell him not to come here anymore. I don’t want him upsetting my employee.”
“Look, Stina, I know he’s an old friend of yours from back in Illinois, so I can’t ask you to do that.”
“We weren’t that close, so it won’t bother me to have him come here only when he’s dropping off or picking up his laundry.”
With those words, they dropped the subject. Stina didn’t want to push too hard to get answers from Gloria, and Gloria was obviously glad. The time could come, Stina decided, when Gloria would need to unburden herself of her past with Lars, and Stina would be there to help her through it.
***
With Thanksgiving Day upon them, Stina went to Elise’s house to help her prepare their portion of the meal everyone was having at the Coleman residence with Jared, Bridget, Emily and Mike. Even though it wasn’t an official holiday, President Lincoln had declared the fourth Thursday of November a day of thanksgiving several years ago, and the people of Forestville wanted to observe it.
As Stina and Elise worked in Elise’s kitchen, Stina decided to broach the subject of Lars and his possible involvement with Rollie Parker’s accident.
“Can I ask you a question, Elise?” Stina said to begin the conversation.
“May you ask,” Elise corrected, “and of course. You may ask me anything, but I may not be able to answer.”
“Or you may not want to,” Stina admitted. “I need to know what happened between you and Lars. You were really close in Bishop Hill, but after you moved here, that changed.”
“I learned that he isn’t the person I thought he was. I don’t know if coming here changed him or if he had been that way all along and not shown it.”
“How did he change?”
“I trusted him in Illinois. Here I don’t. That’s all I can tell you. Are you still interested in him courting you?”
“May I tell you something and you won’t tell anybody else?”
Elise looked up from the potatoes she was peeling and smiled at Stina. “I don’t think you have to. Mike is courting you.”
Stina’s face heated. “Yes, and I’m really glad.”
“I know you always wished that Lars would court you. Back in Bishop Hill, he thought of you as a young girl. Now he thinks of you as a young woman, and he wants to be near you from everything I’ve seen. Is he causing you and Mike problems?”
“Not really. He doesn’t like me seeing Mike? Do you think he’s jealous?”
This time Elise frowned. “All I can say is that you have to be very careful. Don’t let Lars intimidate you.”
“Intimidate?”
“Skrämma,” Elise translated into Swedish.
With a grimace, Stina cut the potatoes already peeled into smaller pieces. When she glanced over at Elise, she saw the expression of suspicion on her friend’s face.
“Sti-na,” Elise said in a sisterly tone. “Has he been intimidating you?”
“He tries, Elise, but I try not to let him do it. Mike still comes to see me, and I won’t stop him.”
“I didn’t stop Moya, either. Just be very careful. You don’t want to make Lars angry with you—or Mike.”
“Mike can take care of himself. Have you seen him without a shirt? I’ve never seen a man who looks like him.”
“I hope that’s not the only reason you’re letting him be your suitor.”
“Oh, no!” Stina said quickly. “I truly like him. We have long talks, and he’s quite the gentleman.”
“He’s definitely that,” Elise agreed. “We need to finish this food and get it over to Bridget’s house. You can spend Thanksgiving Day with Mike and not have to worry about Lars.”
Obviously, Elise wanted to say nothing more on the subject of Lars, so Stina dropped the subject. She would enjoy the day and not think about Lars for another moment. Unfortunately, she didn’t get an answer to the real questions she had: Was it true that Lars had attacked Moya? Did she need to worry that Lars might attack Mike?
Chapter 13
After dinner, Mike asked Stina to take a walk with him. There was something important they needed to talk about, he said, and he didn’t want anybody in the family to hear. Stina turned to Bridget and asked if she could help clean up after the big meal, but Bridget told her to go with Mike.
Something was happening, Stina realized. She didn’t know what, but given Bridget’s expression and tone, Stina knew that Bridget had already been informed of the requested walk.
Bundled up to ward off the near winter chill, Stina and Mike left the house. For two blocks, they strolled in silence before Stina’s curiosity over-ruled her relaxation at simply being with Mike.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure that Bridget alread
y knows about the walk, so I’m really curious about what’s going on.”
Mike pursed his lips and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Pulling her closer, he said, “Bridget and I have uncovered some information that you should know.”
“About what?”
“Lars Olson. He was the first person to reach both Moya and Rollie after their accidents. And did you know that Dr. Frey doesn’t believe either one was an accident?”
With a mental sigh that she could answer honestly, she said, “I had no idea the doctor felt that way. Did he say why?”
“The nature of the wounds weren’t consistent with an accident, but they were with an attack.”
“Does he think Lars did it?”
“He does, but he can’t prove it. I have qualms about you letting him be around you. It worries me that he’s always watching what you do and spending time with you.”
Mike was sweet to be worried, but he also wasn’t trying to force her to keep away from Lars. It gave her hope that she could keep Lars near and watch what he was doing. If Lars ever made a move against Mike or another of her loved ones …
The thought startled Stina. … another of her loved ones. Another. It was true, though. She loved Mike. Joy filled her chest, and she couldn’t help but smile up at him.
“I’m serious, Stina,” he said. “I’m not going to tell you to make him leave you alone because I know you would only balk at that. I am warning you, though, that Dr. Frey thinks the man is dangerous. I do, too. You need to be very careful around him. The man is stalking you, too, Stina, like a cat stalks a bird. You have to be careful even when you don’t think you’re around him.”
Unable to resist, Stina gazed unfalteringly into Mike’s green eyes. “I love you, too, Mike.”
He glanced around, as did Stina. Several people strolled along the street, and Mike said nothing. Instead, he hurried her toward her house about a block away and up to the door. When he tried to open it, it didn’t budge. Stina had locked it as she always did when she left home.
Digging the key from her pocket, she opened the door, and they entered the house. Mike slid the bolt lock into place then took Stina’s coat and draped it over a nearby chair.
Now Stina was concerned that she’d said something she shouldn’t have. Maybe Mike didn’t love her and was just using her as a companion. After all, he still hadn’t actually bedded her. Then his deep voice said the words she’d been longing to hear for weeks.
“You’re right, Stina. I do love you, more than I ever thought it possible to love someone. That’s why I’m so worried about Olson being around you. I don’t trust him.”
Stina led him to the sofa and sank down onto it, turning toward him as he sat as well. Taking his hand in hers, she said, “I don’t like Lars coming around me, either, Mike, but I have to let him. It’s the only way I can keep an eye on him.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“Don’t get nervous, but I know something about him that he doesn’t want me to know. And I will go to the sheriff about it if he does anything to hurt you or somebody else I love. I’ve told him I’ll use my information, too.”
“What do you know?”
“I can’t say, because you’ll tell Sheriff Douglas.”
“If it’s something that serious, …”
“Don’t try to get me to tell you, Mike, because I won’t do it.” She laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled against him. “I won’t do anything that might get you hurt. If I tell you, you’ll want to print an article about it, and that would hurt a lot of people—everybody from you to Bridget and her family to Elise, Moya and Karin. I wouldn’t even put it past him to include Gloria in his list of my friends, and quite frankly, I think he’s already hurt her once. I won’t let it happen again.”
“You think Olson has hurt Gloria? When?”
“Before you got to Forestville. She was beaten in an alley one night, and I saw Lars come out of the alley the night before she was found … I don’t think I know the English word, but it’s omedvetna in Swedish. She wasn’t awake.”
“Unconscious. And you think Olson did it?”
“I do. I tried to get Gloria to tell me who beat her up, but she wouldn’t.”
Mike sat more erect on the couch, breaking their contact. Looking down at her, he spoke sternly. “Yet you let him visit with you when nobody else is around?”
“He won’t hurt me because I know too much,” she replied with a soft smile. “Now don’t you think we’ve talked enough about Lars Olson? We’ve just told each other that we love each other. We should be talking about that instead.”
Stina worked at the buttons on his shirt, slowly releasing them down to the waistband of his dungarees when he didn’t protest after the first button was free of its hole. As chilly as it was, he wore no long johns under his green, cotton shirt, and she slid her hands under the material to feel his rock-hard body.
From his pectorals, where she first caressed him, she slipped her hands over his shoulders and pushed his shirt down his solid arms. His biceps flexed under her touch, but he said nothing. She continued caressing his upper arms, his elbows, his forearms, down to his wrists, where his shirt, still tucked into his pants, fell to the sofa. He must have unbuttoned the sleeves while she was concentrating on his body.
“I love you, Stina,” he said, reaching for her.
But before he could touch her, she scrambled to her feet.
Chapter 14
As she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, he removed his boots and socks. Obviously, he was as ready for this as she was.
She slid her arms out of her blouse and tossed it aside. Then she untied the small bows on her camisole. One by one, taking her time, she released the white ribbons until the top hung loosely on her shoulders, held in place only by her skirt.
Stina left the camisole on and unbuttoned her skirt in the back. As she did, she watched Mike’s expression to see his response as her slightly large breasts threatened to break free of the fabric separating them from his view. There was no doubt in her mind that he was pleased with what he could see, just as she was pleased with his body. As she stepped out of her skirt, she took his hand and pulled him to his feet.
Now he stood before her, his excited penis hidden by the denim of his trousers. She cupped it in one hand and rubbed it gently. He moaned in pleasure, and his hands moved toward the buttons. Releasing him, she took his wrists in hers and moved them to his sides. With her fingertips in his waistband, she moved to the front of his pants. He tightened his abdominal muscles, giving her a little more room, and his toned stomach twitched.
Finally, her fingers met in at the opening of his pants, and she worked the buttons open to expose his erect organ. After pushing his dungarees over his hips and out of her way, she took his dancing manhood into her hand and gave it a firm yet tender squeeze.
This time when he reached for her, she let his hands fall on her narrow waist. They made their way unhurriedly up her sides, caressing her and pushing away her camisole at the same time. He removed her top in the same manner she removed his shirt, leisurely, until his large hands rested on her shoulders. Then he slid the material down her arms, and the camisole fell to the floor behind her.
Stina stood proudly before him now, knowing that her body was one that many men had wanted over the years. This time, though, she was almost desperate to have him. It was nice the first time she had sex—eventually. She just knew it would be even nicer to lie in Mike’s strong arms.
His hands moved to her breasts, almost engulfing them. To show her acceptance, she squeezed him again, this time pulling slightly on his organ. He kneaded her breasts tenderly, tweaking her nipples ever so gently between his thumbs and index fingers.
Suddenly, he released her, took her hand from his maleness, scrambled out of his pants, and swept her into his arms.
Oh, how glad she was that he was striding to her bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and came down next
to her. His lips caught hers; their tongues reunited. For many minutes, they kissed and fondled each other.
Stina couldn’t stop herself from squirming on the bed. She wanted him inside her. She could hardly wait. But even though he was naked, she still wore her bloomers. Her fingers fumbled between them as she tried to reach the ribbon holding her pantaloons on her.
Then he broke the kiss and his lips caressed their way down her chin, her neck, her chest, her cleavage. His fingers freed the bow in her pants and he kissed each nipple. One strong arm lifted her hips while he pulled down her knickers. He kissed her cleavage again before his tongue slithered its way down her stomach as her pantaloons made their way down her legs.
She was so filled with desire now that she lifted her hips toward him, hoping he would finally join with her. But he didn’t. Instead, his tongue flicked over her excited clitoris. He licked her hot, wet passage several times until he got her pants off her. Then, with his arms under her knees, he spread them and centered his attention on her womanhood, eagerly but softly suck on her clitoris until she could bear it no longer.
“Please, Mike,” she said in a whisper filled with desire.
He said nothing. He merely centered his arousal at her hot, wet opening and inched his way into her. When their pelvises met and he was fully in her, she writhed beneath him, matching every thrust downward with her own upward motion—until all thought drained from her mind and instinct took over as she reached an orgasm of love that she never wanted to end.
With a lusty growl, he bore into her one last time and stayed there for several seconds before he collapsed onto the bed beside her.
Sliding his arm under her, he rolled her to him so she could lay her head on his chest.
“My God, Stina,” he said, panting slightly. “I never thought it could be so good.”
“Me, either,” she admitted.
“We need to get Olson out of our lives so we can be completely happy—the sooner the better.”
“He’s the one who attacked Moya,” Stina blurted out. “And he did it because they were courting.”
