Northern Lights Trilogy (17 page)

She stepped on her skirts and made several false starts, but finally made it up into the creaky old cot above the sleeping boys. Within seconds, her eyes were closed, and she fell deeply into sleep. It seemed like only minutes later that warm hands were roaming her. Tora opened her eyes to see Soren’s face close to her own and felt his warm breath on her neck.

“What a delightful surprise,” he whispered, his eyes alight. “I come back to my room for a moment, and I find you in my bed.” He moved to kiss her, but she pushed him away.

“No. No more, Soren. We will wake the boys.”

“We have been quiet before,” he grinned. He moved toward her again. “Come on, kitten. No one will hear.”

“No!” she whispered fiercely. She shoved against his chest and turned her cheek to him to avoid his kiss. “We are done, Soren. No more. Get off of me or I will scream.”

Soren frowned and moved away from her. Then he gave her a half-smile. “Is this a game? You want to be chased?”

Tora sat up and shook her head. She swung her legs over the side and hopped down off the bed. Miraculously, the boys still slept.

Soren tried reaching for her again, but she stepped aside, avoiding his hand. “Outside,” she mouthed and walked out the door with an air of confidence.

Soren closed the door behind him, looking down one side of the dim passageway then the other. He was handsome, undoubtedly, but stupid. And she was tired of him and his growing number of comments that revealed his supposed possession of her. Men were such simpletons. Offer your body and they believed they controlled your soul.

“It’s over, Soren,” she said, lifting her chin.

“No, don’t say that, kitten. It’s just begun,” he urged, moving toward her.

“No,” she said, cocking one eyebrow and placing a small hand on his muscular chest. “I said it’s over. Done with. I was napping, not enticing you.”

“That’s what you say, but—”

“No, Soren.” She slowly enunciated each syllable. “We are finished. I have bigger plans in mind than an ongoing affair with a poor dirt farmer.”

Outraged, Soren acted. Tora did not see it coming, and the force of his blow sent her reeling. She struck the wall and immediately bled from a scrape at her temple. Tears of surprise and anger fell as she leaned against the wall, glaring up at him.

“You will pay for that,” she threatened. Then, “Help!” she screamed, without waiting a moment longer. “
Help!
”

Peder was on deck when he heard a woman’s cry. In an instant, he had the door open and was taking in the scene of an angry Soren hovering over Tora, who was cowering and bleeding. In a fury, he charged Soren and, holding him against a wall, yelled, “What is going on here?”

The man was mute. Peder glanced from Soren to Tora, and back to Soren. The guilt on Soren’s face and the defiance on Tora’s told Peder everything he needed to know. This was not a case of transgression against an innocent woman. This was the heart of an indecent affair.

“No! No!” He gripped Soren’s neck in his two powerful hands and struggled with the desire to choke the man. “Have you no respect for your wife, man?” he asked incredulously. “She sits up there on the roof with my wife, probably telling her of your new life together and the children that will follow this one. And where are you?” Peder shook, he was so furious. He had to get some air before he tore them both apart.

From the other side of the wall, they heard Knut’s frightened wail.

Peder glanced at Tora. There was a hint of fear in her face now.
“You! Get back in there to the children. And Soren, you will come with me.” He backed off from the man as Soren massaged his throat. Peder straightened his own coat and cap. “With me,” he said again, firmly.

Tora opened the cabin door quietly, trying to slink inside. “And Tora. You may not leave that cabin until either Elsa or I come for you.”

“But the boys—”

“Not until one of us comes for you.”

She closed the door without further argument.

Silently seething, Peder escorted Soren to his sitting room. He then ordered Stefan to guard the door, with clear instructions not to let Soren out.

Furious, despairing, and unwilling to place this on Elsa’s shoulders, Peder went to Karl. His friend looked up at him in surprise, for they had been tacitly avoiding one another for days now. His look of surprise melted to one of consternation at the sight of Peder’s drawn face.

Peder reached out to him. “I need my first mate. Are you available to advise me?”

Karl took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Certainly. Where shall we go?”

“The fo’c’sle.”

Giving Peder advice on Soren Janssen’s extramarital affair burned Karl to the core, consumed as he was by his own guilty thoughts of Elsa. Still, he managed to give his old friend what he thought was solid advice: “Stay out of it.” To punish Soren publicly would mean punishing the innocent Kaatje. What was meant to stay behind closed doors was meant to stay behind closed doors. “But we will give Soren a private, firm warning, no?” Karl said.

“And I will speak with Tora.”

“Let us go to Soren. The man has been begging for a lesson for
years now. Perhaps we can persuade him to find the happiness that God intended him to find with his wife.”

Manhandling Soren would release much of the tension that had built within Karl for weeks. His fists had begged to punch the man, but Peder had forbidden it, only wanting to threaten him seriously enough to keep his path straight for the remaining five days on the
Herald
.

Inside, however, Karl fought his own war. For was he not as guilty as the man they threatened? If Karl was half a man, he would confess his sin to Peder. He had accepted Peder’s apology and told him that he did not know what was the right next step in their business relationship. But in the meantime, he would stay. What a hypocrite! Accepting Peder’s apology while knowing that he had done the man a greater wrong. If the Scriptures were right, his only hope was to tear his eyes from their sockets.

As much as the thought of breaking with Peder pained him, he could see no other route. He had to leave. Perhaps Leif’s gift had been providential … God’s method of keeping Karl out of temptation’s way by removing him from the picture entirely. Yes, that had to be it, he told himself as he breathed in the deep salty air that he had come to love along with Peder. Embracing the sea had cemented their friendship. Loving the same woman would end it. But Peder must never know the truth. He might blame Elsa, who was innocent of any of this. No, Karl would never take that chance.

Karl bowed his head.
I feel some peace over this, Lord
, he prayed silently.
This is your path for me, is it not? Perhaps it is better for us both, Peder and me, to part ways. I am thankful that you are walking ever beside this humble sinner, Lord. And keep my walk as pure as can be
.

Much later, Karl stood alone in the shadow of the captain’s cabin, chewing on the stem of a long-empty pipe and listening as the port watch rang seven bells. It was nearly midnight, the full moon almost at its zenith, but he was not tired. Too many thoughts raced through his head.

He took one last look at the moon and turned to round the corner. He stifled a gasp. There on the other side of the cabin beside the starboard rail was Elsa, a vision in her white cotton dressing gown. Her hair was long and loose, waving down her back. She was looking north, and as Karl leaned back into the shadows, unable to tear his eyes away, he saw why. Faintly, in the distance, red and green lights waved on the far horizon. The northern lights.

Karl took another step back as Peder joined her at the rail.

“Oh, Peder,” she said softly, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Isn’t it grand? Father told me it was God whispering to me and to always think of him when I saw them.”

“A good image,” Peder agreed. “Someday you’ll need to see the southern lights too. Sweetheart, I owe you an apology. Since my argument with Karl, I fear I’ve been a bear to live with.”

Karl eased backward, making his way around the cabin. He had done a lot of things he wasn’t proud of, but he would not eavesdrop on his friends.

Before going below to his sleeping quarters, Karl glanced back to the north. “If that is you whispering, Father, thank you. I’ll learn to praise your name, regardless of how I feel about what you are doing in my life. For I trust you.”

E
lsa helped Cook bring out platters of food for their elaborate, celebratory
koldt bord
, a picnic dinner on deck for all, including the sailors. It was a dual celebration: Peder had just married Nora and Einar, and tomorrow they would all be in America. As on Elsa’s own wedding day, most of the passengers were dressed in the traditional
bunad
of Bergen, with Nora wearing the same gorgeous headdress that she herself had worn … when was it? Almost a month and a half ago, she calculated. So much had happened, so much had changed, and they had not even reached America’s shores!

All day the ship had been electrified by the people’s palpable excitement. Tomorrow they would be in America, land of promise.
Tomorrow I shall have a proper bath
, Elsa mused, thinking that fact almost equally as exciting. She still loved the sea and wanted to travel with Peder; she would simply need to convince him of the necessity of proper bathing rituals, even at sea. She went back to the galley, planning all the while. Would she like Boston? What would Maine really be like? Were her imaginings on track?

Cook silently handed her a steaming platter of pressed cod and
poached salmon. Kaatje passed her with a pot of cabbage in sour cream. It was the last of the feast to be served, and the guests on deck hovered nearby hungrily, like sharks around a wounded sea lion, Elsa thought. Before them was a makeshift table that looked very much like Elsa’s own wedding feast, minus the lamb dishes. As was befitting a remarkable repast at sea, they served a great variety of fish, including herring, flounder, sardines, and a lobster for each person. Peder had brought on a cask full of salt water and live lobsters before they set sail, anticipating this celebratory night before landing. In addition, there were meat loaves, cheeses of four varieties, hard salami, and carefully hoarded fruit.

“All right! It is all here!” Elsa announced, and the ship gave up a unified cheer at the news. Never had food looked so good. For most of the passengers, dinner fare had been a dull repast of hardtack and salt beef and fish, with the occasional respite when invited to the captain’s table. Seeing their hungry faces, Elsa felt a pang of guilt for feasting as they had. But such was life for the captain and his wife, she supposed. Perhaps she would not be as excited about traveling with him if she too were reduced to such dull fare.

Pastor Lien blessed the food, going on much longer than most wanted him to, Elsa imagined, then Nora and Einar started off the line of diners. Dressed in costume and celebrating a wedding, Elsa felt at home and wondered if she would ever feel so again. In America her neighbors would likely be from many places, Peder said. They came from Germany and China, Italy and Mauritania. From all over the world people came to the United States. For freedom, for justice, for a new chance in life. And she was one of them.

Dinner was followed by dancing. Two passengers brought out a fiddle and an accordion, and Peder opened a small wine keg, which was strictly monitored by the stern-faced Kristoffer. Still, there was little need for alcohol to achieve the high mood. They danced until late in the evening, even after the little ones gave in to sleep and the
adults’ feet ached. They all felt it: the need to express their jubilation, the need to laugh and sing and be free after their long voyage.

In one of the last folk dances of the night, Elsa left Peder’s side as the couples switched partners and found herself side by side with Karl. She flashed him a smile. She owed him so much. For standing by Peder’s side all these years. For apparently forgiving him his change in plans for Ramstad Yard. He was a fine friend. A brother, really.

“You are a tremendous friend, Karl,” she said, as he held on to her elbow and waist and hustled her around their small circle.

“Yes? Why do you say that?” he asked, remaining face forward. His neck was flushed. From the exertion, she assumed.

“You know why.” They finished the dance and bowed to the others in their group then to one another. When they came up, they bumped heads lightly. Elsa giggled. “Now that was graceful. I’m sorry. Are you all right?” They walked to the railing as the music paused for a moment and many went for refreshments.

“Fine. It was probably me. I’m a better sailor than a dancer.”

“Nonsense.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks for standing by my Peder all these years. For bringing him safely home each time.” Impulsively, she stood on tiptoe and kissed Karl’s cheek, which was rough with a day’s growth of beard.

He looked at her, suddenly serious and intent. Elsa, confused by the look in his eye, took a step backward. Silently, Karl turned on his heel and left her, making his way through the crowd until she could not see him anymore.