Authors: Amanda Boone,Amber Duval
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 already 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.”
“Even more reason to get rid of him.”
“But Moya and Elise don’t know I heard them talking about it. If only I could convince Gloria to tell me who beat her up. I just know it was Lars.”
“I have a plan, Stina,” Mike announced. “We’re going to put that man behind bars as soon as we can.”
“How?”
“I haven’t told you this because I didn’t want to upset you, but he’s threatened me. I told him to come at me whenever he wants, because I’ll be watching for him, and I’ll beat him into the ground the second he throws the first punch.”
She jerked up to her elbow and stared down at him. “Oh, Mike. How could you do that? He’s dangerous.”
“I know he is, sweetheart,” he replied, “but I was a middleweight boxing champion in New York.”
“What’s boxing?”
“It’s kind of like organized fighting. One uses padded gloves and fights in a ring. I’ll take Olson on any day of the week and beat him. I have a bag in the storage room at the office, and I punch it daily—usually imagining Olson’s face on it. And I shadow box, too.”
“Shadow box?”
“I fight against the air. I do sit ups to keep my stomach strong, and I jump rope to keep my feet fast. I also go down by the river and run. Even the lumberjacks don’t work out as much as I do.”
“But he doesn’t fight fair. He sneaks up behind people. Look what he did to Moya and probably Rollie. Or he beats up women, if what I suspect about Gloria is true.”
“If I have my way, it won’t even come to fisticuffs, my dear.”
“Fisticuffs?”
“A fist fight. We
will
do it, though. We’ll put Lars Olson behind bars where he belongs.”
“At least, promise me you’ll be careful,” Stina said, concerned that he would get hurt.
“I’m not going to do anything that will separate us. I plan to make you my bride once we’ve taken care of him.”
But his words didn’t ease her apprehension, because she knew deep down inside that this was going to get a whole lot worse.
Chapter 15
Just as Stina was beginning to think that Lars had a change of heart and was giving up on his threats, she found a note slipped under the washhouse door. Curious, she opened it since it had her name on the front. She didn’t know how to read a lot of English, but this note was designed so she could understand.
I’m warning you.
And that was all it said. The message, however, was clear. This had to be from Lars. It couldn’t be anybody else.
Later that day, a woman came in with a bag of laundry and announced that another accident had occurred. Apparently, Lars had been working with the man when it happened. A wagon-load of logs had run over Gunther Jansen’s arm, severing it about halfway between his elbow and his shoulder. Thank goodness, Gunther had no family to support, because his livelihood had just been stripped from him.
When Mike came to the washhouse and told her that Bridget had covered the story, Stina cringed. After drying her hands on her apron, Stina pulled him into the storage room so they could speak away from Gloria.
“Do you think Lars did this?” she asked in concern.
“Nobody knows for sure, but Bridget suspects that he did.”
“Why?”
Mike sat down on the small bed in the corner and pulled Stina down beside him. “Why do you have a bed in here, anyway?”
“Gloria wanted to get away from the saloon, so I told her she could sleep here. Now answer my question. Why does Bridget think Lars did it?”
“It’s nothing she can prove, but she told me that she interviewed Olson. What he told her makes us both suspicious. He told her that—quote—he turned around and saw—unquote—Jansen’s arm under the wheel. He moved the team forward to get Jansen out, and his arm was already cut off.”
“That poor man,” Stina sympathized. “It must have been very painful. I can’t imagine what he’ll do now.”
“According to Dr. Frey, he may not make it. He’s lost a lot of blood, and Dr. Frey doesn’t think this thing he did will help.”
“What did he do?”
“The doctor gave him what he calls a blood transfusion. I guess the doctor took some blood from his arm and put in Jansen’s arm. He hopes it will be enough, but he’s not sure. He’s never done something like that before.”
Stina rose and wandered to the only window in the room, which looked out on a meadow behind the building where she hung clothes to dry. As she stared at the clothes flapping gently in the breeze, she tried to imagine what it would be like to lose an arm. Then she realized that she received a note that morning.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the note and toyed with it for a few moments. Was that note connected to Gunther’s accident? Oh, how she hoped not!
“What do you have there, sweetie?” Mike asked as he approached her.
“This was on the floor by the door when I got here this morning,” she replied, handing him the note. “I can’t read much English, and I think it’s worded by somebody who knows that. There are just three words on it—
I’m warning you
. I’m pretty sure Lars is the person who put it under the door.”
Mike took the note from her and studied it. “
I’m warning you
. That’s a pretty clear threat. Have you ever found out who attacked Gloria that night? I learned that Olson was the one to find her. That man sure gets around a lot. He’s in the same place as Moya when Moya gets injured. He’s in the same place as Parker when Parker is injured. Now he’s in the same place as Jansen when Jansen is injured. I wonder what all these things have in common to warrant Olson being present.”
“I know Gloria wanted to stop being a hooker. She wanted to get out of the saloon and better her life, but she was afraid because she thought it was too dangerous. I think the reason for Moya was Lars’ jealousy. He didn’t want Elise to be with anybody but him.”
“Bridget’s working on this story because I could lose the paper if I do it. As you know, Frank Harris owns fifty-one percent. He’ll take it away from me. But if Bridget prints an article without me knowing about it, she might be able to get away with it.”
Stina gazed up at him. “What story is that?”
“I’m not sure I should tell you. I don’t want to lose you before I have a chance to ask you to marry me.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. He’d mentioned marriage once before, but she hadn’t known at the time what she would say. She knew exactly what she would say now, though. She would say yes, of course.
“Is that what you’re doing?” she asked, unsure she should. “Asking me to marry you?”
“Not yet. I want to make sure you’re perfectly safe before I do that. We need to take care of Olson now, because I don’t think we’re going to get a better opportunity. Are you ready for this?”
“I think so.”
“As soon as you can get Gloria to tell you who beat her up, I’ll go to the sheriff.”
***
After three days of periodically trying, Stina still wasn’t able to get Gloria Scott to identify her attacker. Finally, Mike came to the washhouse and spoke to Gloria personally while Stina ironed nearby.
“Gloria,” Mike said, “I know this is difficult for you. I know you’ve been through a lot because of your assault, but Bridget and I want to bring your assailant to justice. We want to be able to print an article in the newspaper that gives the details—including who did it.”
Gloria shook her head. “I can’t. If I do, he’ll come after me again. He’s told me so many times, more often after I started working here.”
“Then I’m not going to ask you to
tell
me. I’m going to guess. If I’m right, we’ll go to the sheriff and tell him who it was and have him put in jail.”
“The sheriff won’t believe you. He’s the one behind it.”
Trying to remain calm, Stina put her cool iron on the stove and picked up a hot one. The sheriff was behind Gloria’s beating? Why? What could she possibly have done except want to leave her job as a hooker?
“He didn’t want to lose his income if you left prostitution, did he,” Mike observed. “You and the other girls pay him. Am I right?”
Gloria remained silent.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to answer. I already know about it from another source. But Douglas couldn’t be physically connected to your beating in any way, so I’m guessing he had somebody else do his dirty work.”
Fidgeting with the wet plaid, flannel shirt in her hand, she looked down at it. Obviously, Mike had gotten the information right. Now all he had to do was convince her to admit who her attacker was. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long.
“I’m going to say a name,” he explained, “and if I’m right about who I believe your assailant is, you just drop that shirt in the water. You won’t have to say a word.” Mike paused then said, “Lars Olson.”
The loud gasp and shocked expression Gloria gave him were all Stina needed to know that they had been right all along. Gloria stared at Mike with wide eyes then turned her pleading gaze to Stina. As she did, she toyed with the shirt collar. She must have realized that they could read her expression, because her fingers slowly released the shirt, and it slipped into the water.
“Please don’t tell Sheriff Douglas,” Gloria said.
“We have to, Gloria,” Mike replied in a comforting tone. “But we’ll do everything we can to keep you safe.”
“That’s right,” Stina inserted. “You’re going to stay at my house. We
always
lock the door with a bolt, not just a lock like here. You’ll be with me all the time until he’s in jail.”