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Northern Lights Trilogy

Page 56

by Lisa Tawn Bergren


  Elsa glanced from Trent to Joseph. “You’ve had her followed all that time?”

  “I was worried,” Trent said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

  “For good reason, it seems,” she said, wanting to put him at ease. “And the report from your man?”

  “She appears to be healthy and—this is the most surprising part—happy.”

  “Happy as a camp cook?”

  “It appeared that way,” Joseph said with a shrug.

  Elsa looked away toward the window, thinking. “I haven’t visited the yard since Peder died. It’s time to do so. Do you think she’s ready to see me?”

  “Perhaps,” Trent said. “I have some business over in that part of the Sound. May I accompany you?”

  Elsa considered his suggestion. “You think she might be ready? To see us both?”

  Trent raised one brow. “What if we merely showed up? If she is ready, she could seek us out. I’m worried about her, an attractive woman in a camp full of lumbermen.”

  Elsa nodded. “I can understand your concern. But Ian will watch over her. And if she’s truly made a change in her heart, perhaps her outward actions have changed too.” She nodded again and then shook her head with a rueful smile. “I can’t explain it. I feel an uncommon peace over it all.”

  “I want to be sure this time,” Trent said, kneeling at her side as if begging Elsa to allow him to go to Tora, to rescue her. “I’m afraid she’s been through abuse no woman should ever go through. Joseph’s report … It’s nothing I’d want a lady to hear, let alone bear.”

  Elsa again leaned back against the couch. “Trent, this is out of our hands. We can’t push Tora to do anything.” She took his hand and looked into his eyes. “You deserve a woman who comes to you of her own volition, ready to love you with her whole heart. That is why you let her go in the first place. See this through. Give her time to heal—from whatever she’s gone through. I hope you are wrong. I hope she hasn’t had to face the worst. But if she has, she has. We need to leave her with God to heal. Leave her at the Lord’s feet, Trent.”

  His face went gray. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

  “I do. I’ve ached, worried over my sister for years. I love her too. I do know. I do.”

  It didn’t take long for Tora to settle into life at the lumber camp. Ian McBride, the camp boss, while notoriously rough on the men, treated her like fine china, doing all he could to make her living quarters comfortable—a tiny but sturdy canvas tent—even while showing new male arrivals to their bunks with a curt “That’s your bunk and if you want it softer get yourself some spruce boughs.”

  Her job was simple. From morning to night, she cooked. While the men still slept “like stunned sheep,” as one put it, she would rise in the dark and begin mixing flapjack batter and brewing coffee. By the time Ian rang the morning bell, Tora was prepared to feed a hundred men. They came in as a trickle in the morning, never eager to begin their day, as a steady stream by noon dinner, hungry after a morning’s work, and as a torrential, ravenous mass at supper time.

  They were from Norway and Sweden, Finland and England, Ireland and elsewhere. They were hired as swampers, fallers, sawyers, hook-tenders, bull punchers, or teamsters. And all, married or no, professed love for Tora. She received ten proposals of marriage a day from the start, if she got one. Their proposals came as idle banter, meant to fill the time and entertain after a long day of sweat, dirt, and wearying work. But generally, she felt a camaraderie with the men, a respect that made her feel safe and cared for, as if they were all a gaggle of brothers, rather than potential suitors. And Tora did her best to give them food, and a lot of it. The temptation to flirt left her. She was truly a new woman. All she wanted was to work and be left alone, to think and pray and think some more.

  She had no choice as to what she was to cook. The supplies were set before her with quick instructions: flapjacks and molasses in the morning, corned beef and cabbage at noon, and salt pork and potatoes at supper. Apparently, variety was not a concern to lumbermen, Tora surmised. She soon knew why. All that mattered was that there was food, hot and plenty of it. Never in her life had she seen food consumed in such quantities, even during her roadhouse days.

  The mill, purchased from another company after their own mill had burned down, had grown threefold in the years under Peder’s ownership, and they were experimenting with steam-powered donkey engines, log flumes, corduroy roads, and two-log trail chutes to get to the deeper forests and bring the timber to the mill. The sawmills, now three in a row, were situated on a river that had been diverted to power the saws and bring the logs over the final distance.

  At one end of the camp, railroad ties were stacked over fifty feet high. The pile went on and on, and even with the ever-expanding railroads, Tora wondered how they would all get used. On a Sunday afternoon off, some of the men took her to a place in the woods where eight men could stand in the undercut of a giant fir. A high climber named Wesley, eager to show off for her, donned spurs and rope and shimmied to the top of a nearby tree to demonstrate how they took down a tree, forty feet at a time.

  The others in the group moved back a safe distance, watching and hollering taunts at the lanky young man. After sawing for some time, Wesley braced as the first portion came hurtling down. Tora gasped as he clung to the top of the tree as it bucked and swayed like a wild bronco. The men cheered and Tora clapped, feeling like a child at a circus. When had she ever felt so at ease, so free amid so many men? Most of her life, she had used such an opportunity to her advantage, she pondered. Five years ago, she might have pretended to faint in order to play on the men’s affection for her.

  But no longer. Her life was different now. I am different, Tora decided. Something monumental had shifted within her heart and soul in the last year, and for the first time, she was able to smile over it. God was good. And he was gracious.

  At least, that was what she thought before Elsa and Trent appeared in camp one day.

  Trent shifted uneasily beside Elsa as the steamer pulled up alongside the rough dock. Before them was an enormous lumberyard, and Trent whistled under his breath. “Small little enterprise, Mrs. Ramstad.”

  Elsa smiled demurely and took his proffered hand to stand up beside him. “Are we doing the right thing?” she asked under her breath.

  “I hope so.”

  “What if she thinks we’re here together? I mean to say … together.”

  “Then it’s high time we straighten it out.”

  “All right. Let’s go and review my holdings in lumber,” she said grandly.

  “Perhaps, dear lady, there are indeed some business opportunities we could explore together,” he said.

  “We will see,” she responded. “I need to make sure you’re a trustworthy sort.” She made her way out of the small steamer passenger compartment, uncomfortably aware of her growing girth. The baby, due in less than a month’s time, seemed ready to come sooner rather than later, in her opinion. Surely Kristian had not been this large!

  “Are you feeling all right?” Trent asked delicately.

  “Fine, fine,” Elsa answered, flushing at the obvious reason for his question. “Although I am not sure I’ll be up to riding the flume today.”

  “No?” Trent asked in mock surprise. He walked down the gangplank and turned to reach for her hand. “You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

  “Part of the joy of motherhood, I suppose,” she quipped. She turned to the steamer captain. “Please wait here. We’ll be docked for about four hours, I suppose. If you need anything, see the bull cook.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the young man said with a curt nod of his head.

  “Trent? Let us see the foreman, shall we?”

  “Indeed.”

  The camp was in full swing at ten o’clock in the morning. Elsa had wondered if she would have to search for Tora to make sure she was seen, or put out the word that the owner was there, hoping the news would spread through the lumber camp like w
ildfire. As it turned out, Tora emerged from the cook’s cabin just as they were passing by. She stopped, obviously surprised to see them there, and wiped at a flour smudge on her cheek, just making it worse. She looked lovely, and from the look on his face Elsa was sure that Trent’s heart was pounding.

  “Tora,” she said, deciding honesty was the best tack. “I had heard you were working here.” She avoided working for me, thinking that such an inference might be humiliating to Tora. “When you have the chance, would you care to sit and visit with us?”

  Tora looked from Trent to Elsa. “You have news for me?” she asked in a dignified manner.

  “Oh! No! Nothing of the sort. Trent is here to see to business matters—”

  “And to see you,” he said, his voice deep and intent. He took three strides over to her, staring at her tenderly. “I wanted to wait for you to come to me, Tora. But then I was afraid you might never—”

  Tora ducked away, turning back toward the cabin. “I really must see to the noon dinner. The men will soon be in—”

  “And afterward, Tora?” Elsa intervened. “Could we steal you away for a few minutes once the men are served? Perhaps there’s another who could help you—”

  “No! No. I don’t want any help.” She glanced from Elsa to Trent again. “I’ll see what transpires. Perhaps for a few minutes, after the men are served …”

  “We’ll look forward to it,” Trent said longingly. Elsa half feared she would have to drag him away before he would leave Tora’s side again.

  When Tora had first seen her sister and Trent outside, it had taken her breath away and she had struggled to regain her composure. It made sense that it wouldn’t be long before Elsa discovered that Tora was on the payroll. But to see Elsa together with Trent just brought back all the pain of seeing them embracing in Elsa’s parlor. How could they not fall in love with each other? Trent was a brilliant, handsome, successful widower. Elsa, obviously not without means herself, was a beautiful, adventurous widow clearly in need of a husband, a father for her children. They would be the toast of Seattle.

  Tora tore her eyes from Trent’s and tried to make it back into the cook’s cabin without giving herself away. She backed up against the wall, breathing hard, fighting tears. How she had missed him! His hair had grown more gray, but it only made him more dignified. Her hands went to her hair and her threadbare, secondhand dress. Even Elsa, in her advanced state of pregnancy, looked more glamorous and enticing than she! In spite of his words, Trent probably had dismissed any lingering fantasies about Tora as soon as she had left his side. How could he possibly still care for her?

  Longing for another glimpse of him, she edged toward the window and peeked out through the curtains. Trent still stood there, staring at the doorway as if willing her to appear. After a moment longer, he turned resolutely and followed Elsa’s path to Ian’s cabin. Tora’s eyes followed his every manly, sure step. Was he truly there on business? No doubt his association with Elsa had given rise to many new ideas to expand Storm Enterprises. When he disappeared into Ian’s cabin, Tora turned to the dark room before her and wondered if she would dare to see them again. It would be easy enough to avoid them, claiming a lack of time. But a large part of her wanted to know the truth; why they were there, what they wanted from her, if they were in love with each other.

  Smoothing back her hair, she returned to cutting the cabbage and mixing biscuits. She wished there was something more she could put on the table today, something to impress Trent, but there was little from which to choose. Tora sighed and looked heavenward. “Whatever is in store, be with me, Lord,” she mumbled, then squared her shoulders and concentrated on the lunch before her. As best she could, anyway.

  After the men were served and there was nothing else they could possibly want, Tora left the dining hall and walked to Ian’s cabin. Upon seeing her, Ian smiled and rose, excusing himself with, “I’ll let you three catch up. I need to talk with the men and grab some grub.” He paused beside her. “You didn’t tell me you were the boss’s sister.”

  “Didn’t want you to hold it against me,” she quipped, meeting his glance.

  Ian smiled and went on his way, leaving her standing in the doorway.

  Trent rose and motioned vaguely toward an empty chair. “Please, Tora. Join us.”

  “I will stand here, if you don’t mind,” she said, wishing she could sit down. At least they couldn’t see her trembling legs underneath her skirt.

  Elsa rose and came toward her. She looked as if she wanted to reach out to Tora, to embrace her, but was hesitant. A part of Tora wanted to do so herself, but pride kept her from it. “What is it, Elsa? Why have you come?”

  “Please. Please, Tora. Come and sit with us.” She motioned to the three chairs at the table.

  “All right,” Tora said, making it sound as though she only did so to please Elsa.

  Once they were all situated again, Elsa began. “Trent came to me, in search of you. He had tracked your progress from Spokane—”

  “Progress?” Tora said, unable to keep back a sarcastic tone. “I suppose you could call it that.”

  Elsa’s eyebrows knit in concern. “We gathered that you were taken from your home there by force.”

  Tora swallowed hard. “Yes,” she said, staring at a knot in the pine table.

  Trent and Elsa were silent.

  “But as you can see, I am fine now. I’ve found my own way. If you have a problem with me working for your yard …”

  “No, no, not at all. I am glad that you have found satisfactory work.”

  “Would you rather come back and work for me?” Trent put in eagerly.

  “No!” Tora said forcefully, and then embarrassed, softened it. “No. Those days are over, Trent.”

  “Why? Because you felt pushed to be with me? To see me because I was the boss?” Trent asked, pain evident in his tone.

  “Of course not,” Tora said quietly, meeting his eyes. “Those were the best times of my life. I wanted nothing else than to be with you.” She swallowed hard, pushing back the lump in her throat. “But my life has changed. I have changed.”

  “In what way?” asked Elsa.

  Tora considered her words carefully before speaking. “All my life, I’ve had everything I wanted laid at my feet. When it was all taken away, I had to work again for something of value and substance. Along the way,” she said, glancing at her two companions, “I discovered there was much more to life than wealth. I have my health, I have a newfound faith, and—” She glanced up again. “I have hope. In something more basic. In life, in Christ.”

  Her news did not seem to surprise them. “What will you do?” Elsa asked quietly. “You can’t stay here forever.”

  “I do not know. Ian says I’m doing well. I can stay on as long as I’d like.”

  “It doesn’t,” Elsa began, clearly feeling awkward, “it doesn’t make you feel ill at ease, being around all these men? After what you went through?”

  “Surprisingly, no. They’re good men. Rough-and-tumble, a lot of them, but generally courteous. They treat me like a kid sister.”

  Trent rose and paced. “Tora, for years I’ve waited for you to come to this place. To understand what was important in life.” He glanced at Elsa as if self-conscious. “You are the woman I’ve sought, the woman I’ve longed for all this time. I can see it in your eyes. We can be together now. Come away with me. We’ll marry on the morrow if you want.”

  Tora gave him a sad smile. Her heart pounded at his words, but she knew this was not the right time. She shook her head. “Too much has gone on, Trent. I need time. Time to let it all sink in. Time to sort out what it means.”

  Trent’s mouth twisted up as if in frustration, and he turned and walked out the door in silence.

  “What does he expect of me?” Tora asked her sister. “Surely he didn’t think I would pack up and leave with him? After all that has transpired?”

  “A part of him hoped it would be so, I suppose,” Elsa said.
/>   Tora’s heart leapt at her words. Did he truly still love her? Was it more than a grudging sense of duty that brought about this marriage proposal—a proposal she had so dearly wanted to hear from him for a year? “Does that make you sorry?” she dared ask.

  Elsa frowned at her. “Not at all. I, too, would love to pack you up and take you home. But you seem determined. And I must say, I like this change in you, Tora. I respect it. Trent, although worried, will come to respect it too.”

  Tora toyed with a splinter in the rough-hewn table before her. “He never asked me to marry him before. I wanted it. With all my heart.”

  “But with all the right reasons?”

  Tora paused. “No. Probably not. But it was love I felt for him.”

  “Maybe it was simply not the right time.”

  “So … you are not in love with him?”

  “No, Tora. I have come to love him as a brother. He is a fine man. And I am so happy that he fell in love with you. Yes. Don’t look so surprised. He is in love with you. That is why he is here!”

  “I had thought …” Tora remained silent as she considered her words. “I had thought he was here with you, and concerned for my safety because we once meant something to each other and now that he was to be my brother-in-law—”

  “Tora! Peder’s been dead merely five months. How could you think such a thing?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  They sat together in silence for some time. Then Tora said, “I should get back to the cook’s quarters. The men will be gone by now, and I’ll need to begin supper.” She rose. “Thank you for coming to check on me. You and yours are well?”

  “Well enough.”

  “And … Kaatje?”

  “Kaatje, Christina, and Jessie are all fine. They’ll stay to attend me at the birth of my child and then return home to the Skagit Valley.”

  “Ahh.”

  “You are truly happy here, Tora?”

  Tora considered the word happiness and all it had once entailed for her. “I guess I am. Or I would say I am contented. It’s where I am to be.”

 

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