Northern Lights Trilogy (79 page)

January 1887

T
ora laughed aloud as the Salishan Indian paddled his dugout canoe to the distant shore, looking over his shoulder at her as if she were crazy Magda. Tora understood at last that God had a sense of humor. She liked that about him, and felt closer for the discovery. After her visit to the Seattle chapel, Pastor Mellinger and Magda had conferred and the next day announced they had found a job for her. The job her friends had found for her was cooking at the Kenai Peninsula lumber camp of Ramstad Lumber Yard in Seaport.

Of all the lumberyards that bordered the Sound, she
would
end up working for her sister! The inner peace she felt over the matter surprised and amazed Tora. It was as if she knew all would be well, regardless of the circumstances. What would have once eaten her alive—working for Elsa of all people!—now seemed to make perfect sense. Whatever was to be, would be. God would take care of her. For now, she had a purpose, a clean bed and food.

I just hope there will be adequate opportunity to get dry
, she thought, shivering as the dense sheets of mist continued to rain down upon them. Mato, her Indian guide, seemed to think nothing of it. He ignored the driblets of water that collected on his crown, then ran down his black hair to the middle of his back. He was clean and respectful,
the first Indian to whom Tora had been in close proximity outside of those who stood in line with her at the soup kitchen.

“Do you do this all day, every day?” she called to him. “I mean, do you paddle between the lumberyards, delivering people?” She had taken a steamer to the peninsula, and been directed to Mato from there.

“When I’m hired,” he said over his shoulder, still paddling with long, deep strokes. He was clearly familiar with English, but just as clearly not interested in chitchat.

Tora’s eyes followed the swirl the paddle left in the water as her end of the canoe passed it by. Tiny bubbles outlined its path, and beyond it, the water was an emerald-green-to-black color and fathoms deep. The sun, when it dared to peek out, sent a stream of light down into its depths, as if attempting to pierce the darkness with its hope. Tora found comfort in the knowledge that the ocean was big and wide, larger than she could truly imagine, deeper than any ray of sun. Had she not ridden at the
Herald
’s bow, observing the horizon and seeing nothing but sea? It was like God, that way; bigger than one’s dreams, deeper than one’s imaginings. Would she ever see her Lord as she ought?

Her eyes traveled around Puget Sound, watching frigates, grand schooners, and old brigantines head in and out of the harbor, industrious steamers carrying passengers of greater wealth than she, tiny lighters bouncing on the waves, fishermen at work. Perhaps this vision of God was not entirely inappropriate. Just as this harbor would give her comfort and work and food, so too would God provide for her as the deepest harbor of all. There was simply much, much to explore about him. So much to know!

Tora’s hand went to the Bible in her small bag, which held a change of clothes and a brush, gifts from Pastor Mellinger. She knew not where he had obtained them. Nor did she care. All she knew was that she was in the right place at the right time. And the future held a dim but unmistakable hope.

Elsa gasped and reached for the banister of the stair as a contraction knit her womb into one large knot, held, then released. Kaatje paused before her and stared at her in concern. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a practice run at the real thing. Reminds me to prepare myself for the big day.”

“Ah. When do you suppose that day is?”

“The doctor and I are guessing it will be toward the end of February.” Elsa finished climbing the stairs and glanced at her friend. “Can you stay that long?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss this child’s birth for anything in the world.”

“And it helps that you needn’t return yet to the farm.”

“Yes, that does help make the decision easier. But Elsa …”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

Her words moved Elsa to tears. Where would she be now if Kaatje and the girls had not come with her last fall? Their company had done her and Kristian a world of good. But soon, she knew, they would need to part ways. Elsa needed to be on her own again, to prove that she could go on without Peder and survive on her own. “Thank you, Kaatje,” she said, reaching to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Have you heard from Einar lately?”

“Just two days ago, in fact. You must have been at the soup kitchen. He reports that all the animals are doing well, in typical Einar fashion. Then Nora added all her news of the Bergensers. Matthew’s wife is expecting! And Nels—the man, not our horse—he’s courting a neighbor girl.”

“Norwegian?”

“No, Swedish! Can you imagine? The
scandal …
” Her eyes held a merry look. Ongoing rivalry between the Swedes and Norse seemed to have followed them all the way to America.

“He always did have a mind of his own.” She turned before entering her bedroom. “You’re sure, Kaatje? You do not mind staying here for another month?”

“Not at all. The girls are having a marvelous time! The only thing that concerns me is how they’ll feel about returning to our little house on the farm after all this,” she said, waving her hand around.

“They’ll be fine. It’s their home. It will probably feel comforting and warm to them to return.”

“Yes, well, we’ll see what transpires. But here with you is where I want to be.”

“And what about Tora?”

“I leave it to God. One day I fret over it, the next day I’m as peaceful as a Jersey cow chewing her cud.”

Elsa laughed at that description. “This is a cud day, I take it?”

“A nice, spring-grass-meadow-all-to-myself kind of day. Now you go and rest for a while. I’m going to write a letter and then do the same.”

“Good enough.” She turned to do as Kaatje had directed when a knock sounded at the door below them. Elsa paused to listen as Mrs. Hodge answered it. “Why, Mr. Storm!” the woman said, welcoming him in as she would one of her nieces or nephews. “And, Mr. Campbell. Come in, come in. I’ll go and find the mistress. Won’t you make yourselves at home?”

Elsa puzzled over why they had come. Trent had distinctly told her he would not be over today for tea, since Mr. Campbell had found a new lead to where Tora had disappeared, and Trent had business he wished to see to. She descended the stairs. Trent and Joseph stood in the parlor, having not removed their coats or hats, and obviously not intending to do so.

Trent came toward her, a light in his eye. “He’s found her, Elsa. She’s in good hands.”

“She is?” Elsa moved to the couch, gladdened by the news, eager to hear more. “Where is she? What is she doing?”

Trent grinned. “She’s working for you.”

“What?”

“She’s working at the Ramstad Lumber Yard over in Seaport. As the camp cook. She appears to be in good shape—well, I’ll let Joseph tell you.”

“Please, gentlemen. Let me take your coats,” Elsa said.

“I’ll see to them,” Mrs. Hodge said, bustling in from an unseen corner of the room. “And I’ll fetch a pot of tea too.”

“Yes, yes,” Trent said, pulling off his coat and hat as his detective did the same. “I’m sorry. I was simply so delighted when Joseph came to me with the news.” He sat down on the edge of the settee, and Mr. Campbell perched on an armchair, looking too small in its generous expanse. “Tell her, Joseph. Tell her everything you know.”

Joseph glanced at Elsa and smiled like an elf at Christmas. “She appears to have had a conversion. A true anointing. I had a long conversation with a Pastor Mellinger, minister to a small flock just on the outskirts of town. He refused to give me many details, just told me that Tora has made a distinct choice to follow a different path.”

Elsa leaned back against the chair, feeling faint. Could Tora be coming to know the Lord? What a difference it would make in her life if it were true! “And? You said she’s working for me?”

“Yes. Pastor Mellinger knows the foreman of your lumberyard. Says it was providential. The day he attempted to secure a job for Tora, a future, he ran into his friend—”

“Ian McBride.”

“Yes. That’s his name. A good, upstanding sort. Well suited to watch out for Tora in a man’s world.”

Elsa nodded. “And she is cooking, you say?”

“Six days a week, breakfast, lunch, dinner.”

Elsa shook her head. “I bet she’s never worked so hard in her life.”

“I don’t know,” Trent said with a smile. “Storm Enterprises wasn’t easy on her at first.”

“But she’s a
cook,
” Elsa said, meeting his glance with a meaningful look. “A cook, Trent.” She turned to Joseph. “You visited the yard?”

“No. I sent another. She knows me. I rented her home in Helena, and found her a position as a teacher in Spokane.”

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.