Icecutter's Daughter, The
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There was a bustling of activity as several helped to get Svea secured on the litter.
Carl stepped closer to Rurik and asked in a low voice, “What happened?”
“Like I was telling the police chief, I came here to talk to Svea and Nils about tomorrow. I went to their hotel suite, and Svea came to the door. She said Nils was gone. I told her we needed to talk about telling the church leaders the truth. I said I’d meet her downstairs in the restaurant.”
“And then . . . ?”
Carl’s tone seemed almost urgent, and Rurik hurried on, “I didn’t want to be the cause of any further harm to her reputation nor add more questions about my own, so I immediately headed down the hall. She flew out the door after me. She grabbed my arm and begged me to just make things right. I told her I’d done nothing wrong and that I had nothing to make right where she was concerned. I continued toward the stairs, and she kept trying to stop me. She wanted me to come back to the hotel room to talk, but I told her that wouldn’t be appropriate. She continued to pull at my arm and when I tried to disengage from her it only caused her to become more vocal.”
“Is that when you pushed her?” the police chief asked over Carl’s shoulder.
Rurik wanted to punch the man square in the nose, but he knew that wouldn’t help his case. Besides, the man was only trying to do his duty. “I did not push her,” he said once more, each word distinct. “She was ranting and saying something about how I had to marry her—that I had to save her reputation. I stopped long enough to tell her that her behavior was causing a scene—that she needed to calm down before we went to the restaurant.”
“But she wouldn’t be quiet, is that it?” The man watched him with a trained eye.
“That’s true, she wouldn’t. She only got louder. I don’t even remember what all she was yelling, but I decided to get downstairs and, if necessary, leave the hotel altogether. I started down the stairs, and Svea rushed past me and turned on the step in front of me.”
The lawman nodded. “And then?”
“And then she lost her balance. I tried to pull her back, but she fell away too quickly.”
Rurik looked at his uncle, who was frowning. When Carl put his hand to his chest, Rurik feared the shock of the matter might be too much.
“Are you all right, Uncle Carl?”
The older man looked at him and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
The police chief turned to the hotel clerk, seemingly unaware of Carl’s condition. Rurik heard him ask the clerk if this was what he’d seen.
“It looked to me like he was pushing her,” the man told the official. “I heard her screaming, like I said. It was an awful thing to witness.”
“I didn’t push her,” Rurik reiterated. “I couldn’t do something like that.”
The doctor had instructed the litter bearers to carry Svea away. He came over to where the police chief stood. “I’m taking her to my examination room. She’s fainted, but it’s probably for the best. She may have a broken leg. She said her head hurt, too, so there might be additional damage.”
The man nodded and glanced toward Rurik. “Will she live?”
Another jolt of fear and shock went through Rurik, but he fought to stand still and straight.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to examine her first. She could have all sorts of internal injuries, especially if she fell from the top of the stairs.”
Rurik didn’t know when Merrill arrived, but when he looked again at his uncle, he found her there. Her presence, although comforting, was not what Rurik wanted. He hated for her to be in the middle of this madness—to hear the accusations and wonder at his actions. He bowed his head.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to take you in,” the chief told Rurik. “Until we can determine what really happened, whether Miss Olsson is going to live or die, you’ll have to be locked up.”
Carl grabbed his chest and began to stagger. Rurik and Merrill reached out to catch him at the same moment.
“His heart,” Merrill exclaimed.
The doctor hurried forward. “Put him on the ground, flat out.” He knelt beside the older man. “Carl, is it like before?”
“More painful,” Carl gasped out through the labored breathing. Rurik had never seen anyone with such a white face.
Rurik looked at Merrill as the officer took hold of his arm. “Merrill, will you stay with him?”
“I will.” Her gaze met his. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Rurik could see in her expression that she knew he was innocent of any wrongdoing. However, when he glanced around at the others, he found accusation and condemnation. He felt like he had fallen into a nightmare from which he might never awaken.
Heartsick, Merrill watched the police chief lead Rurik away. But her more immediate concern was for Carl Jorgenson. Kneeling, she put her hand on his arm.
“Uncle Carl,” she said, hoping the familiarity would console him, “I’ll be with you, and I’m praying for you.”
He opened his eyes for just a moment. “Ja. You need to pray,” he said through stiff lips.
The doctor directed a couple of men to take Carl by the shoulders and legs. “Carry him to my place.”
“I’m coming with him,” Merrill said, her tone leaving no room for argument. The doctor merely nodded.
The short walk to the doctor’s place gave Merrill little time to think. She had to admit the sight of the unconscious Svea Olsson had been disturbing.
Oh, God, she prayed, please don’t let her die. Please let the truth be known, and please, I beg you, may Rurik’s good name be cleared.
The doctor’s examination room was small, and because Svea was already in there, the doctor directed the men to carry Carl into another room. “I’ll be with him soon,” the doctor told Merrill. “I’m going to find something for his heart and check on Miss Olsson.”
Carl’s pain had intensified, and Merrill could see that his pale skin had taken on a grayish-blue hue. His eyes remained closed, and she wasn’t certain if he was still conscious or not. As soon as he was positioned on the bed, she went to his side and took hold of his hand. Praying for the older man, Merrill felt a sudden sense of peace wash over her. She could feel God’s presence at the bedside.
After some time, Merrill felt Carl stir. “Merrill?” he said in a weak voice. She quickly bent over him. “What is it, Uncle Carl?”
“Rurik . . . he . . . he wouldn’t hurt her.”
Merrill nodded. “I know. I know he wouldn’t. Soon the truth will come out and everyone will realize that.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t think . . . I’ll be here to . . . see it.”
She frowned. “Please don’t say that. Rurik needs you. We all need you, Uncle Carl.”
Carl gave just one shake of his head and closed his eyes. “He has . . . you.”
The doctor came in with a small glass of dark liquid. “Get him to drink this. It should help.”
Merrill took the glass and slipped her other arm under Carl’s neck. “What is it?”
“A foxglove tea. I’ve made it strong, so hopefully it will help settle his heart. Have him drink it all. It may cause some stomach discomfort, but that’s normal.”
“I’ll see that he drinks it.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Miss Krause. You tend to him while I see what I need to do for Miss Olsson.”
“You should know . . .” Merrill stopped, uncertain of whether she should say something about Svea’s condition or not. No doubt he had heard the rumors along with everybody else. Still, if it helped Svea to survive, Merrill didn’t want to hold back. “Miss Olsson is with child.”
The doctor raised a brow. “Are you certain?”
“That’s what she’s told us,” Merrill said.
They both looked at Carl when he murmured, “She . . . did.”
The doctor grimaced. “Well, a fall like she’s had probably will put an end to that.” He shook his head. “Let me know if Carl’s pain gets worse, Miss Krause.”
He did as she instructed, never once complaining. Merrill eased him back onto the pillow and watched for any sign of relief. Carl remained ashen, his hand still clutched to his chest. He probably was more worried about Rurik than himself. Merrill wished she could say something to ease his concerns.
What would become of them all? It seemed their world had suddenly gone crazy.
Time dragged by as Merrill waited for Carl to feel better or for the doctor to return. She supposed that since she was with the older man, the doctor was putting his time and efforts into the ministrations of Miss Olsson. Even so, Merrill would have felt a whole lot better had the doctor been there to watch over Rurik’s uncle.
Carl’s breathing did seem a little less strained, but Merrill couldn’t be certain. His face was still a ghastly gray, making her wonder if perhaps this was the end for him. She remembered her mother’s pale face. Granny had called it a death pallor.
Merrill struggled to gather her thoughts to pray for Svea. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the young woman to live—she truly did.
“If Svea dies, they will accuse Rurik of murder.” Putting it into words nearly did her in. She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. God, I’m afraid I don’t feel too kindly toward that woman, she finally began. I want to care about her, but it’s so wrong what she’s done. She’s hurt so many people with her lies.
Merrill lifted her head to look at Carl. He had opened his eyes, but didn’t seem to be focused on anything in particular. “Is the pain any better?” she asked.
“A little,” he said. “But not much. I don’t expect it to be. My heart has been giving out for some time now.” His voice was barely audible.
Merrill patted his hand. “I’m sorry you’re in pain. I’m sorry that all of this has happened.”
“You’ll . . . be . . . good to him . . . won’t you?”
It wasn’t really a question. She knew exactly what Carl Jorgenson was saying. “I certainly hope to be.”
“He’s not guilty.”
“I know that, Uncle Carl. Rurik wouldn’t hurt anyone—and especially her.”
Carl gave the briefest nod and closed his eyes. “Would you read a Scripture to me?”
Merrill glanced around the room. “I don’t have a Bible, but I know some passages by heart.”
“The Twenty-third Psalm?”
“Yes,” she said, tightening her hold on his hand. “I know that one well.”
His lips moved along with hers as she began to say the familiar words.
“How is he doing?” the doctor asked, coming at last to check on Carl.
Merrill straightened in her chair. “He’s been sleeping for the most part. I think the pain has eased. Is there anything more you can do for him?”
“No. Nothing. His heart is too weak. I’m sorry to say that eventually it will take his life. He knows that.” The doctor looked past Carl to Merrill. “I wonder if I could ask you something.”
“Of course.”
The doctor looked uncomfortable, then motioned her toward the hall. Merrill followed him.
Reaching the hall, Merrill asked quickly, “Is something wrong, Doctor?”
“I realize this is a delicate issue, but I have to ask why you believed Miss Olsson to be with child.”
“Because she told me she was. She told Rurik the same. She said he was the father, but Rurik insists he’s never been . . . with her . . . that way.” Merrill flushed and looked at her hands. “I believe him.”
“Actually, I do also.”
Merrill’s head snapped up. “You do?”
“I do. I gave Miss Olsson a complete exam. She’s a little banged up, but no broken bones, no internal bleeding that I can tell, and . . . no pregnancy.”
“She lost the baby?”
“There never was a baby. She isn’t pregnant, never has been. At least in my professional opinion.”
Merrill felt her heart beat faster. “Why would she say she was?”
“That’s a good question.”
The doctor moved toward the door, but Merrill stopped him. “Is she conscious?”
“Oh yes. She pretends to be otherwise from time to time, but I wave some smelling salts under her nose. I’m afraid she’s playing a game with me. When I rally her, she begins to moan and complain about all manner of pain. Even so, I see no evidence for it.” He rubbed his chin. “I suppose I am going to have to present her with the truth and try to figure out what this is all about.”
“I wish you would. It would most likely help Rurik. Doctor, I know he would never push her down the stairs. He would never hurt anyone. I think maybe Miss Olsson has only pretended to be with child in order to force Rurik to marry her. I don’t know why that is so important to her, but apparently her reasons make it worth lying about.”
The doctor nodded. “Given Miss Olsson’s performance in my exam room, I’m beginning to think you may be right.”
Chapter 23
After writing a short note to be delivered to her father, Merrill made sure Carl was resting comfortably and hurried to the city jail. The skies had turned cloudy and the air cold, but the weather was not on her mind as she rushed through the police station door. “I wish to see Mr. Jorgenson,” she told the officer, a man named Clarence Obermeyer. “And, also, Dr. Hickum wishes to speak to the police chief as soon as possible.”
“He’s out right now,” the man replied. “I guess if it’s important, I can go find him.”
“Please, I wish you would. I believe the doctor has news on Miss Olsson’s condition.”
The man looked at her for a moment and nodded. “It doesn’t seem fitting to have you here. Rurik Jorgenson isn’t your kin.”
“I assure you that I intend to marry Mr. Jorgenson,” she said forthrightly. “That makes us kin, does it not?”
“Well . . . I guess in that case . . . I could let you see him. I’ll take you back to where Mr. Jorgenson is.” He seemed rather hesitant, though.
To encourage the officer, Merrill began moving toward the cells. “Thank you.”
The man led Merrill to a cell where Rurik sat on a narrow bed reading a Bible. She smiled at the sight. “Don’t forget to fetch the police chief for Dr. Hickum.”
The man nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He stopped and looked at her. “You didn’t bring him any weapons, did you?”
Merrill rolled her eyes. “Clarence Obermeyer, you know me better than that.”
The man looked sheepish. “Sorry, Miss Krause. I didn’t mean nothing by it.” He turned and left.
When Merrill turned back to the cell she found Rurik standing very near the bars separating them. She smiled again. “I have good news.”
“Svea?”
She nodded. “She’s going to be fine. No broken bones, no concussion. And best of all, no pregnancy.”
Rurik frowned. “She lost . . . lost the baby?”
“No,” Merrill said, reaching out to touch his hand clutched tightly about the bars. “There never was a baby. She wasn’t with child. In fact, Dr. Hickum told me that after examining her quite thoroughly, he doesn’t believe she’s ever . . . well . . .” She felt her cheeks grow warm. “He doesn’t think that Svea has ever . . .”
“I understand,” Rurik said, breathing out a long sigh. “I’m so glad. Glad for both her . . . and for me.” But he was frowning. “Why would she risk her reputation by saying otherwise, though? She has the whole town believing her to have been intimate with a man.”
“I think it was all a part of trying to force you to marry her,” Merrill said, letting her touch linger on his hand.
“But why? Why was I so important to her future? She could have attracted any number of Lindsborg fellows. . . .” He pul
led away and began to pace the small area. Then he stopped. “I forgot to ask about Uncle Carl. How is he?”
“Resting. He isn’t too well, though.” Merrill’s voice dropped. “Dr. Hickum told me he really doesn’t think your uncle will last very long.”
“I know,” Rurik said. “I’ve been afraid of that even before . . . and now this.” He looked so dejected. Merrill didn’t know what she could say to help him.
“Well, we both know how stubborn Swedes are,” she finally said with a little smile. “Your uncle isn’t going to die one minute sooner than he wants to.”
Rurik stopped pacing to face her and responded with a hint of his own smile. “So, now you’re telling me you think Svedes are stubborn, ja?”
She had to laugh at the accent he added to his words. “You know they are.” She chuckled. “But I have to say, so, too, are Germans. But that’s not the point.”
“No, I suppose it’s not. So what happens now?” he asked, sobering. He reached through the bars for her hand.
“The doctor has sent for the police chief. Doc wants to explain the situation, and perhaps Svea herself will tell the truth when faced with the evidence of her deceit.”
“I pray that she will. And honestly, for her sake as well as mine. I can’t believe the scene she created at the hotel. It was so out of character for her.” Rurik shook his head. “I’ve just never known her to act so . . . frantic. It almost seems like she’s afraid of something . . . someone.”
“Maybe her brother has been behind all of this,” Merrill offered. “It’s a possibility at least.”
“A big possibility. I found out Nils is in some kind of trouble at home, and it may have to do with money.” Rurik began to walk around the cell again. “And my uncle just learned that some money is unaccounted for in the company books here. He didn’t know if it was just a mistake, or if Nils has taken it.”
“Do you think he would do such a thing?”
Rurik shook his head. “I don’t know. My brother confided in a letter that Nils has had some gambling issues. I sure hope it’s not true, but he has asked me for loans several times, telling me he can’t afford to take care of Svea properly on the small salary he’s paid.