Despite herself, Leigh was intrigued. “So, what did she see?"
There was a smile in Erik's voice. “A handsome prince. The girl was overjoyed and even more in love than she was before. But then, something terrible happened. A drop of tallow fell upon his nightshirt, and in the blink of an eye, the prince disappeared, and in her bed was the white bear. In a sad voice, the bear told her that he'd been bewitched by his wicked stepmother; by day, he was a bear and by night, a prince. And if only the girl had held out for a year without discovering his secret, he would've been free. Now, he had to return to a place east of the sun and west of the moon to marry an ugly princess chosen by his stepmother."
Leigh frowned. “God, I'm beginning to hate your tragic Norse legends. But I'll bite. What happened?"
"Well, it is a long story, but I will make it short. The girl loved her prince so much that she found her way east of the sun and west of the moon, reaching there on the eve of his wedding. He was overjoyed to see her, telling her that she was the only woman in the world who could set him free. On the morning of his wedding, he told his stepmother that before he wedded the ugly princess, he had to know what she was good for. He brought out his nightshirt with the drop of tallow on it. ‘I will take only the woman to wed who can remove this tallow.’ Well, the ugly princess scrubbed and scrubbed, but the tallow remained. The prince then called in a beggar lass from outside, who of course, was our heroine. And as soon as she began to wash the shirt, the tallow stain disappeared. So, the prince married the woman he loved and they lived happily ever after."
"Ah, a happy ending,” Leigh said after a moment of silence. “Unusual for a Norse legend, wouldn't you say?"
Erik's hand fastened on her chin, and he turned her toward him. She saw his face, solemn, in the muted glow of the fire. “Kayleigh, you are the only woman who can remove the tallow from my shirt."
Her eyes welled with tears, and her voice tremulous when she spoke, “Even if that is true, Erik ... you're still going to marry the ugly princess, aren't you?"
He gazed at her, but didn't answer. She pulled away from him and rolled onto her side, staring into the darkness and blinking back tears until sleep finally claimed her.
* * * *
"I don't understand how you can make love to me like you did last night ... and still go back to America."
Leigh turned away from the snow-packed beauty of the Aust-Agder countryside and glanced at Erik's grim profile. His hands were clenched tightly on the steering wheel of the Saab they'd rented in Kristiansand that morning.
"Erik, we went through this last night,” she said. “Do we really have to keep discussing it?"
"We still have six days before we go back to Oslo,” he said softly. “And I am going to do everything I can to make you change your mind."
Leigh sighed and gazed out the window again. Early that morning, they'd left Kristiansand and traveled north into the Setesdal Valley. Their final destination was the tiny hamlet of Ose where the Haukeland family owned a cottage on the Byglandsfjord. If circumstances were different, Leigh would've been filled with anticipation at the thought of several days alone with Erik in an isolated cabin. But she felt only pain. Last night, he'd again tried to convince her to stay. She could still hear the anguish in his voice as he pleaded with her.
"Margit and Gunny are my problem.” His turbulent blue eyes gazed imploringly into hers. “You won't ever have to see them. They will be one part of my life and you will be the other ... the good part. Kjareste, we can make this work. There is no reason why we should have to give each other up."
Leigh's mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God. I don't believe I'm hearing this. You're saying you're going to marry Margit, yet, you want me to stay here in Norway and be your kept woman. Your mistress. Have I got that right?"
Erik stared at her, amazed. “You are the woman I love! If anything, Margit would be the kept woman, not you."
"Are you insane?” Enraged, Leigh shoved him in the chest as he tried to touch her. “Do you realize what I've given up for you? I walked away from my marriage. I left my kids behind for you! My whole life has been turned upside down because I fell in love with you. And all you're offering me is the chance to stay here and be your mistress? You need your head examined, Mr. Psychologist!” She whirled away from him, heart thudding with anger.
He crossed the room to her, stopping just inches away. His voice lowered insistently. “Can't you see, Kayleigh? I'm clutching at straws here, trying to find an answer for us. An answer for all of us. Please, I'm just asking you to think about it. You said you wouldn't come to Norway, yet, here you are. Once you go home, you won't be able to get me out of your mind, and soon, you'll realize you have to come back."
"It's not going to happen.” Leigh shook her head, standing rigid. She wouldn't turn and look at him. “I know you don't believe it, but I'm stronger than that, Erik. I won't share you with another woman. I can't."
"I'll change your mind.” He reached out and touched her hair.
She tensed, as always, feeling her limbs melt at his touch. She willed herself to move away from him, fought to hold onto her anger. His voice lowered, “Please, Kayleigh. Let me hold you. Just for a little while."
She felt herself weakening, and hated herself for it. Just a few more days, she told herself. He was her drug. She knew that. But soon enough, she'd have to wean herself from him. But not tonight.
He turned her around, aligning her body against his. “How can you live without this?” he whispered, entwining his hand entwined in her hair, drawing her head backwards so his mouth could sear a possessive brand into the tender slope of her neck, making her ache with the ever present desire he awakened in her. “And this?” His fingers impatiently brushed away the thin satin strap of her camisole as his lips trailed down her neck and onto her shoulder. “Can another man ever make you feel like I do?” he whispered, just before his mouth captured hers in a silken kiss.
Wearily, Leigh dragged her mind back to the present. Their arguments always ended the same way. She, in his arms, thrilling to his touch, with nothing really resolved.
The landscape had changed dramatically from the rolling hills and valleys of Sorlandet to a rugged snow-covered terrain. Gradually, the valley had narrowed and now the highway was hemmed in by dark gray cliffs that loomed over them in a menacing beauty. On their left, the Byglandsfjord glimmered in the mid-day light; it looked deep and icy. Leigh shivered, suddenly uneasy for no apparent reason. Perhaps it was because of the ominous black clouds marching in from the west over the crests of the mountains. Bad weather ahead. She opened her mouth to mention it to Erik when he spoke.
"In the summer, you can catch ‘dwarf salmon’ in Byglandsfjord. In fact, this area is the only place they can be found. Have you ever fished, Kayleigh?” When she shook her head, he grinned. “I'll teach you next summer."
He glanced at the leather-banded watch on his wrist. “We're making good time. The shops will still be open in Ose."
In the little village near the fjord, they stopped to buy food and supplies for a couple of days.
"We live quite rustically at the cabin,” Erik said as he paid for the groceries at the small family-owned store. “There's a small ice-box. No electricity. We'll have to come back to Ose for more food in a few days."
Leigh stared at him. “You didn't tell me there was no electricity."
Erik grinned. “You'll love it. The kerosene lamps are very romantic."
"I suppose you also think outhouses are romantic.” She tried to summon a spark of gaiety into her voice.
Erik gave a lascivious chuckle. “Why not? An outhouse can offer all kinds of interesting possibilities. After all, look what happened in your outdoor shower!"
"Erik, you're gross! Seriously, is there an outhouse?"
"Seriously, there is.” They returned to the car. “But not to worry. We don't use it anymore. The first time Far brought my mother here, she was horrified. She refused to come again until he had a well d
ug and plumbing installed."
"So, why not electricity and a refrigerator?"
"Far drew the line at that. He told her if she wanted electricity, she could spend her holidays at the Grand Hotel in Oslo, but he intended to get back to nature. And that meant no electricity. And I must say, I fully agree with him. It wouldn't be nearly so charming if it were all lit up with electric lights. You'll see."
For the last five minutes, the Saab had been climbing a winding, snow-packed road. Huge spruce trees towered over them, blotting out the feeble afternoon light to an almost early evening twilight. They rounded another curve and there, tucked into a small clearing, was the tiny stone cabin. From the outside, it presented a quaint picture with its brown wood trim and thatched roof, but Leigh had her doubts about the interior. She'd never spent any time in a place without modern conveniences. Yet, she felt oddly excited as if she were on a new adventure. A year ago, she'd been fantasizing about being with Erik in a remote place such as this. Now, the fantasy had become reality.
Erik parked the Saab around the back of the cabin where the clearing ended in a steep ravine. Leigh gasped at the sheer beauty of the mountainside. The bluish-green spruce trees, laced with a powdery dusting of snow, carpeted the slope. Nearby, a crystal rush of water tumbled down through the dense underbrush, cutting its way toward the deep pewter of the fjord below. Except for the musical surge of the brook and the lowing wind in the trees, a majestic silence surrounded them.
Leigh gazed around in awe. “What a view!"
"Believe it or not, it's even lovelier in the summer when everything is green and the flowers are blooming. The fjord is deep blue ... you can't believe how blue. I can't wait to bring you here then...” He stopped, an almost unbearable look of pain on his face.
Leigh swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in her throat. So, he really wasn't as confident as he'd pretended. He was beginning to believe she really wasn't going to stay. But God, the look on his face! It broke her heart. She turned away. “Shouldn't we get this car unloaded before it gets completely dark?"
It didn't take long before they had everything in the cabin. Erik went out for one last trip to unstrap the cross-country skis from the top of the car.
"Tomorrow we'll ski over to Reiardsfossen. I've been wanting to show it to you since I told you about the legend last Christmas. Do you remember?” Erik asked, placing the skis in the corner of the room.
"Of course! The one about Ann and Reiard and the ravine.” For the first time, Leigh took a good look around the tiny three-room cabin. “Erik, this is really very nice!"
Despite the simplicity, the living room was cozily arranged with sturdy wood furniture, homespun rugs, and a large sofa-bed placed in front of the stone fireplace. The other half of the room was devoted to food preparation with an old-fashioned wood stove, a water pump, and a sink. In the tiny bedroom, there was only room for a full-sized bed covered with a down comforter and a small wardrobe. The bathroom consisted of a toilet, sink, and a deep claw-footed tub.
"We'll have to heat the water on the stove for bathing,” Erik said, following her into the bathroom. “Of course, when we stayed here in the summer, we boys took our baths in the fjord."
"Well, I bet you won't be taking any baths in it in this weather. Listen to that wind blow. It's really picking up.” Shivering, Leigh moved back into the living room. “Maybe I should see about fixing some dinner while you get the fire going."
"I'll get the fire started later,” Erik said. “First, I'm taking you out to dinner."
"Erik, we're in the middle of nowhere! How can you take me out to dinner?"
"Ose is only a few miles away, and we have a car. I have something special planned for you tonight."
Erik instructed her not to dress up because the inn was a tiny family-owned place, usually frequented by local Norwegians who stopped in for aquavit, good food, and traditional music. With that in mind, Leigh dressed for warmth instead of style, pulling on her new Norwegian sweater and navy wool slacks over thermal underwear. Erik was similarly attired in sturdy warm clothing. He nodded approvingly when he saw her.
"You're learning to dress for the Norwegian winter."
The tiny inn was tucked into a side-street of the village where a typical tourist would have easily passed it by, not realizing it served the best Norwegian food in the area. The decor was practically non-existent, just a few tables scattered throughout the small room with a space cleared at one end for entertainment.
The proprietor led them to a table near the inevitable blazing fireplace. Leigh settled back in her chair to enjoy the warmth while Erik rattled off a stream of Norwegian to the waiter. She noticed that all the other tables were filled with cheerful customers, some of them in traditional Norwegian costumes.
"I ordered kjottkaker and kulruletter-fylt blomkol, meatballs and stuffed cauliflower,” Erik told her. “And for an appetizer, various cheeses and fish balls."
"Not gammelost, I hope?” Leigh couldn't understand how anyone could eat the foul-smelling cheese from the West Country, but Erik loved it.
He smiled. “We'll see."
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, listening to the lively music of Norwegian folk dances playing in the background. Suddenly Erik excused himself and disappeared into the foyer of the inn. He was gone for only a moment.
"A surprise,” he said when he returned.
The food arrived and as Erik had predicted, it was wonderful ... except for the gammelost, which Leigh declined. As they were finishing, a blond man in traditional dress stepped into the room, carrying a strange-looking instrument that resembled an ornate violin with four extra strings.
"That's a Hardanger fiddle,” Erik said. “I guess you could call it the Norwegian national instrument."
The tune was a lively one and the blond man sang along to the accompaniment of clapping hands from the guests. The music of the Hardanger was unlike anything Leigh had ever heard before, similar to bagpipes, yet unmistakably different. At first, it was rather grating on the ears, but soon Leigh found herself enjoying it, and when the fiddle-player finished, the customers applauded loudly and called for more. He launched into another song, this time a plaintive ballad. After the waiter swept away the remains of their meal, Leigh and Erik settled back to enjoy the music. Erik reached for her hand and smiled at her warmly, then looked back at the singer. After another ten minutes, the entertainer took a bow and disappeared as quietly as he'd arrived.
"That was Hans Wenche, the son of the innkeeper. We were lucky to see him tonight. He only performs when he is in the mood.” There was a sparkle in Erik's eyes as he looked across the table at her. “I have something for you.” He drew out a small white box and placed it in front of her.
Leigh lifted the lid and gazed down at a slender silver ring delicately shaped into the entwined initials of E & K.
"We're in the land of the silversmiths,” Erik said. “I called Herr Wenche when I first got home and described what I wanted. I thought I would have to post it to you. I'm glad I didn't have to. Do you like it?"
Leigh studied the beautiful ring, an invading sense of despair sweeping through her. She sighed shakily. “It's lovely, Erik, but I don't know how I can accept it now."
His eyes darkened. “What do you mean, now? You said your feelings for me haven't changed."
"They haven't. But don't you see we're just prolonging the pain?"
A closed expression settled on his face. He reached out to take the box. “I'll return it."
"Erik, no.” Leigh's hand covered his. “I'm sorry. I was thinking of myself, how hard it would be to wear it and think of you so far away."
Erik's face softened. “It doesn't have to be like that."
It was Leigh's turn to withdraw. “Yes, it does."
He stared at her a moment longer and then slowly sat back in his chair. Nothing was right after that. The charm had gone out of the evening. It wasn't long before Erik suggested they leave.
"It's not lightning,” Erik said. “That's the aurora borealis—the northern lights. Make a wish. Legend has it that if you wish upon your first sight of the northern lights, it will come true before the year is out."
"Okay. I wish I could be warm again."
They got into the car. Erik sat still for a moment before starting the engine. “Too bad I cannot have your wish. I think you know what I would wish for.” He turned on the ignition, and cold air blew out of the vents.
Leigh shivered uncontrollably and thought longingly of the cozy inn they'd just left. “I don't think I'll ever be warm again,” she mumbled, her teeth chattering.
He didn't comment, but just turned off the flow of air and put the gearshift in reverse. Leigh felt a tickle rising in her throat and tried to suppress it, but it was no use. The nagging cough she'd been battling for the last two days had returned with a relentless fury and the cold seemed to intensify it. Erik glanced over at her.
"I think I have something for that cough back at the cabin. And I'll heat up some water for a bath just as soon as I get the fire going."
East of the Sun, West of the Moon Page 18
