“I would never think of such a thing,” said Tora, putting on a hurt expression.
“Do not let her fool you, Mama,” Elsa said. “She helped decorate the sanctuary, and it is lovely.”
“She even went up into the hills to get the fireweed you love,” Carina added.
“Tora did that?” Elsa asked in surprise. “I was sure it was you, Carina. Thank you, Tora. See, Mama? She is not as disinterested as she pretends.”
Gratia hid her smile from Tora and finished her work on Elsa’s hair. Then she gently placed the cap on her daughter’s head, tears of joy and sadness intermingling as she did so.
“Oh, Mama,” was all that Elsa could say, feeling herself choke up too.
Gratia wiped away her tears and smiled at her daughter in the mirror before them. “There you are, more beautiful than ever.”
“They have arrived!” Carina said, turning excitedly from the window. “They’re all here! Are you ready, Elsa?”
Butterflies flitted about in her stomach. “As ready as I ever will be,” she said, swallowing hard. Taking her mother’s hand, she stood and looked once more in the mirror. Her long skirt was a thick black wool with fine embroidered work at the bottom. The traditional white blouse hugged her arms and breasts, and over it was a matching vest to the skirt. White stockings and black slippers completed the ensemble. But she had to admit, the jewelry and wedding cap made her feel like Norway’s queen.
And it was a good thing. For when her father opened the door to her groom and shook his hand, she felt as if he were a king. Peder too wore the Bergen costume, but he loomed larger in the doorway than she remembered, and his outfit was new, since the one from his adolescence would have been much too small. His image echoed the rest of the men, but Elsa thought she had never seen a finer form. Broad shoulders filled his white shirt that billowed at the arms and came down to a fine, fitted cuff. He wore a black vest with gold buttons, and the matching knickers and white hose hugged his thickly muscled legs above big, black shoes. His wide belt was an ornate masterpiece with dangling metalwork.
Amund Anders turned from Peder, kissed his daughter, reached for her hand, and placed it in Peder’s. They grinned at one another for a long time, relishing the moment, and then Gratia pushed them out the door. They led the processional of people walking two by two and talking among themselves. All were in a festive mood, and Elsa felt very loved. How could she do without these people? Only the promise of Peder’s love kept her feet moving to the church, where Pastor Lien met them.
“O God, we commit these children to thy tender care,” he prayed after the opening hymn. “Walk between them, O Lord, for all their days and nights together. Hold them fast in the love that only thy Son Jesus could represent, and give them long life and a fruitful union. These things we pray in thy name, Father.”
“Amen,” said the people.
Pastor Lien leaned forward and smiled at the young couple before him. “I ask thee, therefore, Peder Leif Ramstad, in the presence of God and this Christian assembly: Wilt thou have Elsa Anna Anders, here present, to be thy wedded wife?”
“I will,” Peder said, staring into Elsa’s eyes.
“Wilt thou live with her according to God’s holy word, love and honor her, and alike in good and evil days keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” he repeated, his eyes never wavering.
Pastor Lien turned to Elsa. “In like manner I ask thee, Elsa Anna Anders: Wilt thou have Peder Leif Ramstad, here present, to be thy wedded husband?”
“I will,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong and sure. She wanted Peder to feel all the assurance she had in her heart that this was right, that she wanted nothing else.
“Wilt thou live with him according to God’s holy word, love and honor him, and alike in good and evil days keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” she stated, hoping her eyes conveyed to Peder all the love she felt.
“Forasmuch as you have consented together in holy wedlock, and have now witnessed the same before God and this Christian assembly, and have joined your right hands in token thereof, I pronounce you man and wife. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”
The pastor turned to Peder. “The rings?” he whispered. Peder fished for them in his pocket, then pulled out the two simple bands.
“Repeat after me,” he directed Peder, handing him Elsa’s ring. “Receive this ring …”
“Receive this ring,” Peder said, his eyes glistening with joy as he stared down at her.
“As a pledge and a token of my love and faithfulness.”
“As a pledge,” he said slowly, as if thinking over each word, “and a token of my love and faithfulness.”
As if in a dream, Elsa, as Peder had before her, repeated Pastor Lien’s words and slipped the ring on his hand. They then remained side by side, kneeling before their pastor, as he went on to preach about Adam and Eve, Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, and loving as Christ had loved. Elsa only heard snippets of his homily, thinking more on her elation at being Peder’s bride, having his hand in hers, and their future in America. Pastor Lien’s hand on her head brought her back to the present.
“Let us pray,” he said. “Lord God, heavenly Father, thou who didst create man and woman and didst join them together in marriage, thereby signifying the mystery of the union between thy dear Son Jesus Christ and his bride the Church: We beseech thee in thine infinite mercy, let not this thy blessed work and ordinance be brought to naught among us, but graciously protect it. Through Jesus Christ, thy beloved Son, our Lord. Amen.”
“Amen!” Peder repeated with gusto, making Elsa want to giggle.
“Peace be with you,” Pastor Lien said, smiling at both of them.
“And with you,” Peder said with a nod.
“The Lord be with you!” the pastor said to his congregation.
“And with thy Spirit!” they said as one.
“The Lord bless thee, and keep thee. The Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. Amen.”
Pastor Lien gestured to Peder to help Elsa rise, then placed a hand on each of their shoulders as they turned to the congregation. Spontaneously, the people began to applaud and cheer.
“I would like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Peder Ramstad!” Pastor Lien shouted happily over the mayhem.
The traditional wedding luncheon was another picnic, held on the hillside near the rock where Elsa and her father had enjoyed so many times together, watching the great aurora borealis. High above the city, the group reveled in the perfect summer weather, under clear blue skies that met purple granite mountains, and surrounded by the full bloom of wildflowers. Far below them, ships entered and exited the port on gray-blue waters, and yet none of the sounds of commerce could reach them today.
“It is like being in heaven!” Elsa said, taking her younger sister’s hand.
Tora shook her off, feeling half-bad about it, but not in any mood to be gay. She wanted to give in, to celebrate with her sister, but could not get past the wall of resentment inside. She could feel it—choking, heavy—and blamed Elsa for its presence. They could all be happy. Why not? They were leaving on the morrow with family blessings, while she had been reduced to sneaking aboard the ship like a common criminal! Had Elsa stood up for her, Mama and Papa would have given in. But she had not.
Elsa gave her a hurt look and turned away, obviously trying not to let Tora affect her mood. Tora did have to admit that her sister looked fetching. The red and the black of her bunad brought out her blue eyes and the ruddiness of her cheeks. She looked like the quintessential bride, with tendrils of white-blond hair escaping her knot beneath her bridal cap and dancing in the breeze about her face. The traditional costume was tight and accentuated her enviable figure. Fortunately for Tora, she did not have
to physically compete with Elsa. She was reasonably sure of her own attractive image. It was Elsa’s newfound status as Peder Ramstad’s wife that Tora envied.
Tora’s mother had found a central location and spread out her part of the wedding feast. There was fish of all sorts—cod, capelin, herring, mackerel, salmon, and trout—cooked in a variety of ways and chilled for the luncheon. In addition, there were whipped cream cakes, tortes, smørbrød, thick cream to pour over fresh strawberries … the delicious dishes went on and on as others spread out their own blankets and added their offerings to the fare. Finally, the medley of dishes stretched for twenty feet, for a crowd of perhaps fifty. There would be plenty to eat. Tora turned away as the group sang the doxology as grace. The thought of food, or any more prayer, disgusted her. There were plans to be made.
She eyed the crowd, searching for that one young man she had spotted earlier, a sailor on the Herald. There he was, she noted as the crowd sang “Amen.” Tall, gawky, and struggling with the last vestiges of acne, the boy blushed clear up to his hairline when he met Tora’s mastered gaze—forward, yet coquettish. Oh, this will be simple, she thought. This will be much too simple!
Peder nearly choked on his salmon when Garth came to the punch line of his bawdy joke and slapped him on the back. Burgitte handed Peder another glass of lingonberry juice and smiled benignly at both her brothers. The Ramstads were sitting with the Anderses, and the two families melded comfortably, as they had for years. Only Tora was missing; Peder had seen her disappear over the hill some time ago with one of his sailors. The conversation was lively. Amund espoused that, as old friends, this seemed like a logical end, that their children should marry. It sure feels right to me, Peder thought.
He gazed at Elsa with such happiness in his heart that he feared tears would come to his eyes. She was elegant and beautiful. And she was his. He glanced around for their old friend Karl. He should be there with them, Peder thought. After all, they had played together as children, and through ten years of sailing on the same ships, Karl had become as close to him as his brother, Garth. Peder’s eyes found the Martensens, higher up on the hill. As usual, Gustav looked grumpy, even in the midst of the festivities, and Sonje bravely put up a false front of joy. Catching Peder’s eye, she raised a glass in greeting. He mouthed “Where’s Karl?” and Sonje pointed down the hill.
There by an old pine was Karl, talking with several of the men who would sail with them—Bjorn, Kristoffer, and Mikkel. Making plans, as usual, Peder thought with a smile. It wouldn’t be long until Karl captained his own ship. He was certainly as capable as Peder. Despite Peder’s best efforts to make his own way, the Ramstad name had afforded him a slight edge. Still, it wouldn’t be long before Karl had his own place of authority. He was bright and ambitious. But ambitions should be set aside today. All were to drink and be merry—not work!
Peder was rising to go rout out his friend when his mother called to him. “Peder, wait a moment. Your father and I would like to share something with you and Elsa.”
The seriousness in her tone stilled Peder. “Yes, Mother?”
Helga looked to his father, and on cue, Leif Ramstad spoke. “At long last, your mother has convinced me that you deserve the same as your elder brother has received. Although Garth comes into a readymade business, we are prepared to help finance your American enterprise. It is our wedding gift to you.”
Peder heard Elsa’s quick intake of breath but did not turn from his father. “I … I do not know what to say, Father, Mother. Other than thank you.” He shook his head. “You are most generous. But I must talk it over with Karl. All along, the two of us have planned this venture as a sixty-forty split. Your gift would change things drastically.”
Leif nodded sagely and patted his son’s knee. “You are wise to think it over. But I would not think it wise to turn down the opportunity our gift affords you. It is a leg up on a business in which it is increasingly difficult to turn a profit. Find a way to break the news to Karl, son.” Leif smiled and pointed at Elsa. “You have a wife to care for now. Perhaps children soon. You need to think ahead.”
Peder swallowed his irritation. Did his father think of him as a boy? Peder did not like the thought of his father controlling him through his financial gift, but he was right. It was tough to make a go of a shipping business these days, especially in sail. A man needed any edge he could find. But Karl would not like it. He would not like it at all.
When he rose, he gave Elsa a reassuring smile and tenderly tucked a golden tendril of hair behind her ear. “I won’t be long. I just need to talk to him.”
“I understand,” she said, smiling into his eyes.
Peder turned and walked down the grassy slope toward the pine grove where Karl and the men still spoke animatedly. On the way, friend after friend stopped to greet and congratulate Peder on his good fortune or offer up a bawdy joke on marital activities. After years of life with sailors, the humor did not offend him, but he rarely joined in. The closer he got to Karl, the more clearly he saw what might transpire if his friend knew the truth. He might leave and start his own company. After all, Karl’s heart was in steam, not sail, and the only reason he stayed with Peder and his vision was friendship and lack of funds. And Peder needed him. No, perhaps now was not the right time. Once aboard ship, then he could break the news.
Peder plastered on a smile as he joined the men. They greeted him loudly, and for the first time, Peder realized that they had been dipping into the homemade reserves. After a moment, Tomas, the town doctor, joined the group and Peder turned away from the men with relief.
“Now, doctor, it is imperative that every man, woman, and child be thoroughly examined tomorrow morning,” Peder said, hearing the commanding tone that had made him a good captain enter his voice. “Watch specifically for signs of cholera and consumption. I’ve seen corpses swell so big, no coffin could hold them. I want none of that on my ship. These people will get to America before they face new miasmas,” he told the doctor, referring to the bad air that carried disease, “not die aboard the Herald.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Tomas said with a friendly smile. He leaned toward Peder with a look of semiserious conspiracy, then glanced at the loud group of men ten paces away. “But I honestly think that the only illness you’ll see could be politely attributed to seasickness.”
Karl took another swig from Bjorn’s jug and watched with watering eyes as Peder took his wife in his arms. Dear Father in heaven, how am I to stand this? Contrary to what Karl had hoped, the drinking had not made things better; it had simply made things more present. Instead of putting distance between him and Elsa, it seemed to call him closer to her, increased his longing to take her into his own arms. How was he supposed to work with Peder? To have Elsa in such close proximity? And what kind of friend fell in love with his best friend’s woman? Perhaps it was hearing about her for years from Peder on dull, quiet seas. Hearing her attributes bragged about, hearing her letters read aloud. Somehow along the way, Karl had imagined that Elsa would be his. How could he have let it happen?
As the sun grew low in the sky and people gathered in close for a few last celebratory dances, Karl swallowed hard. The sad fact was that Elsa had never given him a second glance. Peder was always the captain of her ship, and Karl nothing more than the first mate. It was as it should be: She was married to the man she had always loved. After all, she barely knew Karl the man. They had been friends as children, but it was Peder who had courted her for the last three years via letter and the occasional visit. Karl only knew Elsa the woman because Peder was so open in sharing his love for her, and through that sharing, Karl had fallen for her too. It was not fair, but it was fact. Yet that knowledge didn’t make it easier for Karl.
She was a wonder to watch as Peder swung her around in the traditional wedding dance of Bergen. Later, amidst the warm, glowing light that each person contributed in the candlelight dance, her eyes sparkled as she looked up into Peder’s eyes. It was too much for Karl. He could
not watch any longer. His only hope was to focus on Christ and pray—pray with all he had in him—that his Savior would cast away these feelings that threatened to undo him. He turned and walked away, and was surprised to find his father walking in silence beside him.
“I thought you had disowned me,” Karl said, no malice in his voice.
“I have. Yet I still need to keep you accountable,” said Gustav.
Karl pulled up short in a clearing not far from the candlelight dance. He peered through the deep shadows, trying to discern his father’s look. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that it does not honor your faith to covet another man’s wife.”
Was it so obvious? Karl quickly looked away, embarrassed to be read by his father. “I know. It is something I will conquer. I never intend to get between them, only serve them as a friend. Peder needs me. We are building a business together.”
Gustav took a step closer to his son. “You are the hypocrite my father was. Claiming to want to serve your friends by staying near them when the best way you could do so is to go away.” He paused and his tone softened. “Run, son. Run far away. The love of a woman is a powerful thing. Time and miles will heal you.”
Karl looked up at him, wondering at the care in his voice. Was this the same man who had thrown him out yesterday? What kind of witness to Christ was it to remain in a position that might ultimately endanger his dearest friend’s marriage? But he was so close to fulfilling his dream! Peder and he would build a business that would make him a successful man. As a full-fledged partner. Not dependent on a Ramstad as his father had always been and always resented. Karl had worked long years to come to this place. Where else would he have the opportunity?
“You are wrong, Father. I have the power of Christ within me. He defied Satan; so will I defy these feelings and prove to you that a Christian man can be pure and honest, not two-faced.”
Gustav Martensen laughed in derision. “If I live to see it proven true, we will talk again. But mark my words, Karl. You are on a dangerous path. Come back to Bergen in the years to come and show me you took the high road, and I will allow you in my home. Unless you prove that to me, you are not ever welcome here again.”
Northern Lights Trilogy Page 4
