Northern Lights Trilogy (16 page)

“Just say it, Peder. Out with it.”

Peder looked him steadily in the eye. “On our wedding day, my father gave us a gift.”

“And?”

“He told me that he would finance Ramstad Yard, top to bottom.”

Karl searched Peder’s eyes for several seconds as if to see if he was joking. When Peder merely returned his stare, waiting, he shoved his chair back with a loud scrape and stood abruptly, his face flushing in anger. “And you told him no, right? That we had obtained our own financing? That we had an agreement, sixty-forty?”

Peder lost his nerve and dropped his gaze. Karl’s response was everything he had feared. “No,” he said softly. “I accepted his gift.”

“And you waited until now to tell me? Why so late, Peder?”

“This is difficult, obviously. I knew you’d take it hard.”

“Take it hard? Take it hard! I’d say I have just reason to take issue,” he said, pacing. “Peder, I’ve worked alongside you for years. I’ve scrimped and saved to get my 40 percent. For what? You’re telling me Ramstad-Martensen Yard is a thing of the past. Oh, yes, stand aside for the mighty Ramstads! I should’ve known old Leif couldn’t keep his sticky fingers out of his son’s business.”

“Now just a minute—”

“So that’s it? I am out?”

“No, no! Karl, I want you as my number one man. I need you there.”

“Your number one man? But not your partner—”

“It will almost be like having a partner.”

“But my dreams of building steamships? No, no. You will set them aside for
sometime later
, in favor of your romantic sailing ships. It’s over, Peder.” Karl raked his hands through his hair. “It’s 1880 and sail is on its way out. Steam is our ticket to the future.”

“There is still room for sail, Karl. These ships are cheaper to build, more reliable in many ways—”

“There you go! You’ll never admit sail is dying. Sure, there’s room for some new schooners. I can see that there might be some money in hauling cargo in the big old tubs. But steam, Peder. That is where we would make our yard successful. You hold on to sail because your father loves it. And with his money, I’d wager that we will never see a steamship leave Ramstad Yard.”

“I will make sure of it. Karl, I respect your views—”

“Aye, but not enough to hold to the dreams we forged as boys, eh? No, I guess friendship comes after finances in the Ramstad family.” He strode to the door.

“Karl, wait. Truly, I want to work this out with you.”

“You have made your decision, man. Now I have to make mine.” He left without another word, closing the door soundly.

F
or the third day in a row, Elsa ate lunch with Peder in silence. Ever since his blowup with Karl, her husband had been morose, and Elsa had been forced to cancel their nightly dinner parties. He had made their guests so uncomfortable that she had begun making excuses to the various passengers, begging off for one night and then the next. Not that Peder seemed to notice. He didn’t even seem to notice her. Or had she done something wrong too?

Tonight she had dressed in one of her finest dresses, hoping to catch his attention. Her mother had ordered three new gowns from Copenhagen for her as a going away present, and she had been saving them until they got to America and were in more gracious surroundings. The one she wore tonight was an evening dress with a shorter skirt, or what they called a quarter train. The bodice and skirt, however, were still the long and sleek look—an unfortunate, confining feature in Elsa’s mind—and were made of a beautifully shaded turquoise lampas, trimmed with turquoise blue satin and pale, straw-colored surah. The sleeves were quite daring and short, and she wore matching straw-colored gloves. Still, Peder had not commented.
Perhaps it was her lack of a decent bath in the last month. She was used to bathing at least twice a week and did her best with the basin of water, but oh, how she longed for a steaming copper tub!

Elsa placed her napkin by her plate and sat back in her chair to study her husband. He leaned over his plate, shoveling in the food. His eyes were ringed as if he had suffered from loss of sleep in the last ten days. Elsa concluded that it was not that he lacked interest in her, it was that he could not stop thinking about his friend and the breach between them.

“You know, you could just say no to your father,” she began.

He looked up and scowled at her. “Say no to the most assured road to success? He’s promised me twice the money that Karl and I could raise together.”

“But is what Karl said true? Will you feel like the American Ramstad Yard is truly run by your father? Wouldn’t there be joy in building something totally your own?”

“This will be more my own than what I would share with Karl.”

“But you made a promise, Peder.”

“Enough!” The anger in his voice and the pulsing veins at his neck unnerved her. Never had he raised his voice to her. Seeing her surprise, his voice softened. “Forgive me. I did not mean to yell. But I am making what I think is the best decision. Karl will come around. He can still own 20 percent of a much bigger, promising shipyard.”

“But at what cost? You said yourself that you would make all the decisions.” Elsa rose and went around the table to kneel by his side. “Peder, he is your best friend. Since boyhood. Do not let it fall aside as you move forward.”

Peder grimaced and shook his head. “I do this for you, Elsa.”

“I have what is important to me,” she protested. “I appreciate that you wish to honor me, but turning away friends will not make my gold seem more shiny. I’d rather wait. Build the business slowly. And keep our dear friends.”

Peder stood, his face a mask of iron. “I have decided. It is my business, not yours.”

Elsa swallowed hard, willing back her quick anger. She had been trained to think about what she said before saying it, something Tora never seemed to grasp. By the time she felt all right about her retort, Peder was gone, slamming the cabin door behind him.

“O Lord, Lord,” she prayed out loud, holding her head in her hands. “Be with those two prideful, stubborn men. For I know this is not your way. Teach them to honor one another and love one another, and give them words to heal the wound that has opened between them.”

Sighing, she stood and went to the china cabinet, where she pulled out two old, amateurish but clear drawings of steamships. Secretly she agreed with Karl. While sailing ships were classically beautiful, steam was part of their future. It was just a matter of time before she would find the courage to tell Peder.

Kaatje rounded the corner of the deck, soaking in the fresh air and warm sun on her skin. She felt wonderful now that her seasickness had gone, and she caressed her burgeoning belly when no one was looking. Soren had gone missing yet again, and she wondered briefly where he could be hiding himself. She shielded her eyes and looked to the crow’s nest, where he often claimed to go. There was but one sailor up there now. Ever since she and Knut had been unable to find him when they had played cat and mouse the week before, Kaatje had been vaguely uneasy. But she banished away the doubts, wanting to focus on good and upright hopes and dreams, rather than the sordid memories that seemed to plague her.

Pushing them away, she thought instead of his soft kisses that morning, his warm hands and earnest voice telling her that he was so glad she was his.
Thank you, Father
, she prayed, looking out to sea. The sun glittered on the water as if echoing her praise, tiny mirrors
of flickering, shimmering light against the dark sea. The sky was a light blue, and the sun hot on her face. It would be a warm one, judging from the early afternoon heat. Possibly the hottest yet. She owned a parasol, dilapidated as it was, but she could never seem to remember to carry it with her on deck. It was just as well. Soren claimed to like her freckles and sun-rosied cheeks, regardless of the fashion. And for a farmer’s wife, there was little fashion to worry over anyway.

Kaatje resolved to see what Elsa was up to and started toward the captain’s quarters, knowing she would probably be sketching up top, as usual. She wanted to be nearby if her friend wished to talk about whatever was going on between Karl and Peder. The whole ship was rife with gossip, covering the topic ad nauseam, as far as Kaatje was concerned. Kaatje’s elderly aunt had always said, “Live by what you know, not what you believe.” Apparently, a lot of people on the ship wished to believe the worst.

The most troubling rumor involved Elsa and Karl and unchaste glances. Not wanting to listen to such folderol, Kaatje had dismissed the idea out of hand. But she could not stop herself from remembering the two times she had caught Karl eyeing her friend—the way Soren had eyed other women. It troubled her. But those instances had been prior to the wedding. And Karl had been Elsa’s friend for as long as Peder had. Surely an upright man such as Karl would never …

Enough
, she told herself.
Go and be a friend
. Reaching the ladder, she called out, not wanting to disturb Elsa if she was with another. “Hello, up there. Any room for a fat friend with child?”

Elsa’s face peeked over the edge. “You’re hardly what I would call fat. Yes, if you can safely make your way up here, do so. I’d appreciate your company right now.”

Kaatje climbed up and sat beside her on the bottom portion of the chaise lounge. “The only good news about my getting fat is that my corset is a thing of the past,” she whispered. She smoothed her wide maternity skirt beside her. It was thin, gray wool, itchy under the best of circumstances and torturous under the sun, but it was the
most comfortable of her dresses in terms of size. And Soren claimed to love it because it brought out her gray eyes.

“Lucky you,” Elsa returned conspiratorially. “I’d give an arm to the people who set the styles if they would call for the worldwide burning of all corsets.”

“And give up that tiny waist? I bet Peder can circle it with his hands!”

“Still, I wouldn’t be sorry to give up these miserable stays.”

They sat together in companionable silence for a moment, looking out to sea.

“If I keep getting visitors,” said Elsa, “I’ll have to make the ship’s carpenter build another chair.”

“Oh, that would be delightful. This is the best view on the ship, you know, barring the crow’s nest.”

“I know. Then consider it done. I’ll get another chair made, and you can rest here beside me while I draw.”

“Sounds heavenly. What are you working on now?”

Elsa turned her pad so Kaatje could see, and she caught her breath. “Elsa, that’s amazing! It’s almost frightening to look at—it brings back that terrible night.”

Elsa’s face grew sorrowful. “I know. I’m sorry to remind you of the night Astrid died. But there’s something magnificent in thinking about the
Herald
cresting those horrible waves and living to see a peaceful sea the next morning. In fact, it reminds me of Astrid in a way, making it through this life and going on to the next. In comparison, this life must seem like a storm, and heaven … well, like
heaven
. So peaceful.”

Kaatje nodded, smiling as tears edged her eyes. “I like that. You are right.” She studied the drawing again. “Peder is right. You have a gift.”

“Ah yes. Peder. My husband seems to have left the ship and appointed someone else in his stead. I gather by your visit and those concerned gray eyes that you’ve noticed.”

Kaatje met her gaze. “I have.”

“He is so driven that he does not pause to look at the damage in his wake.”

“I take it you mean Karl.”

“I do. He … Peder … he’s just so … so stubborn.”

Kaatje laughed. “He can’t possibly be more stubborn than your father, Amund.”

“Possibly,” Elsa said with a smile, and the two settled back for a heart-to-heart talk.

“He does it all for you, you know,” Kaatje said.

“I suppose. But I have told him that I have all I need. If only …”

“What?”

“Well, you see, I believe I would like to travel with him … sail with him.”

“And he does not want that?”

“He is afraid.” She looked at Kaatje’s confused expression. “Afraid I would be hurt. Astrid’s death only seemed to hasten his decision against it. And now with Karl possibly leaving, I think he feels adrift, unsettled. To his way of thinking, having me along would only be another burden to bear.”

“Surely,” Kaatje said carefully, “it is not as bad as all that.”

“Almost,” Elsa said glumly. “All I can think of is watching as Peder sails out of port and being left all alone.”

“With Tora,” Kaatje said, compassion evident on her face.

“With
Tora
,” Elsa repeated.

Tora sighed in relief. The two boys were asleep at last, with Knut curled up beside the baby in what once had been Astrid’s cot. Knut had insisted on napping there of late, and Kaatje had been quick to encourage Tora to allow it. The cabin held, after all, Knut’s last memories of his mother. Generally he seemed to be coping well, but at night if she wasn’t up with Lars, she was comforting Knut, soothing away his nightmares. She was exhausted and ready to nap herself.
Tora eyed the upper bunk. Never mind that Soren slept there. She’d do anything for a rest.