Northern Lights Trilogy (9 page)

“I assume that if you are a grown woman capable of making a grown woman’s decisions then you have come with enough money to pay for your passage,” Peder said in a low voice.

Tora’s brow furrowed. “No. Is it not perfectly horrible? I begged Papa to send me. And he would not! I was reduced to this … this …”

“Stowing away,” Peder said.

“Well, if we must call it that, yes. I brought my own food supplies.”

“Enough for five weeks of travel?”

Tora faltered, then stubbornly lifted her chin. “I will manage.”

Peder glanced at Karl, and Karl shook his head. He seriously doubted Tora carried enough food and water to make it across the Atlantic.

“We will manage,” Elsa put in. “But hear this, dear sister: You will take an active role in making it work.”

A
s soon as Cook had cleared the dining table and departed with the lunch dishes, Nora Paulson sat down with Elsa and her English primer to work on her language study as they had done three times a week for the past three years. Once aboard the
Herald
, Peder had decreed that only English would be spoken. This would help train the immigrants in their new tongue so they would be prepared for their new world. With this mandate, Nora was a busy woman.

Elsa leaned over the book with Nora, familiar with the lesson, as she had worked it through many, many times. Many parts of the troublesome new language still gave her pause, but she was slowly learning the ropes, as the sailors said. She looked over at her sister, who sat pouting in the corner of the sitting room. She had been that way all morning. Tora was angry at Elsa for sending her to sleep in the hold. As the last “passenger” to board, she had been forced to sleep in a makeshift bunk closest to the crew quarters’ wall, the noisiest.

“Tora, come in here. If you are to make your own way in America, you’ll need to know the language.”

“I know enough,” the girl said in saucy tones, but perfect English nonetheless. “Elsa knows no more than me.”

Elsa’s mouth dropped in surprise. Up to then, she had only heard her sister speak in their native tongue. Then she began remembering how Tora always wanted to tag along to Nora’s house when she had her lessons, and how she was always somewhere nearby when Nora came to the Anders’ home. It had never made sense to her then; now it did.

“Elsa knows no more than
I
,” Nora corrected her. “Come in here and join your sister. We’ll review pronouns.”

“I do not believe I want to do that,” Tora said, her chin held high as she carefully selected her words. “But I do wish to understand some things. There are some funny rules to this language. For instance, take the different sounds O-U-G-H takes. ‘A rough-coated, dough-faced ploughman strode through the streets of Scarborough, coughing and hiccoughing thoughtfully.’ Does that make any sense whatsoever?” she asked, her countenance proud over her mastery of the language.

Tora had always been bright, Elsa mused, but this was amazing. Still, her uppity manner was irritating.

Elsa looked at Nora and then back to her sister. “Nora, would you excuse me? Perhaps another passenger would like to exchange their lesson time with mine so we could meet again later?”

“Certainly,” Nora said. Clearly Tora agitated her as much as she did Elsa. If she weren’t the captain’s sister-in-law, Tora would certainly have received a solid dressing-down by the teacher.

As Nora left, Elsa rose, pausing to take a deep breath to try and still her anger. She reminded herself that she was a married lady and strove to picture herself as such, thus maintaining some hold on her fury. She walked into the sitting room and sat daintily on the richly upholstered rococo love seat. “You and I must speak, Tora.”

“About what? Your husband said quite enough last night.” She tossed her head, refusing to look at her elder sister.

“No. He did not. You have intruded upon us and our new marriage, assuming I would care for you. To compound the problem, you
are penniless. Peder is trying to build a new business; he does not need another mouth to feed.”

“I did not realize I would be such a burden,” Tora spat out. “There you were, bemoaning the fact that you had to leave your whole family behind.”

Elsa swallowed hard. “I did leave my whole family behind. You, dear sister, are a stowaway. That is a criminal offense on most ships. You’re fortunate that Peder is not planning to enter a British port and dump you off.”

“Do not do me any favors,” Tora said, leveling her cool gaze at her sister.

Elsa snorted in disgust. “You are … I will tell you something. I
won’t
do you any favors. You will eat from your food supplies until they are gone, and when they are, I will feed you because I have a charitable heart.”

Tora said nothing.

“You are an impudent, willful child, Tora. But you have made an adult decision. I plan to hold you accountable for it.”

“Fine.”

“I hope you’ll continue to think so. Peder and I will see you after dinner tonight. Until then, you may go back to your bunk or roam the decks. Just stay out of the way of the sailors. In fact, stay far away from the sailors, period. Which reminds me, Peder wishes to know the name of the sailor who helped you sneak aboard.”

“I do not recall.”

“He means to give him ten lashes and leave him ashore at the next port. You deserve lashes too. If you won’t give him the name, perhaps such measures will be necessary.”

“Do not threaten me,” Tora said with indignation, standing up with fists clenched.

Elsa sighed. “Listen to me, Tora. A captain is lord of his domain. He can do as he wishes. And since the
Herald
is a rather small domain, it is imperative that he maintain control. Can you imagine
what would happen if all sailors got it in their heads to sneak their girls aboard? Chaos. And it will not happen here, for Peder is too good a captain to allow it. Give me his name. I’ll plead his case, asking Peder to simply put him ashore, not whip him. The boy must be simple—it is obvious you used him.”

She saw a small smile of victory flicker across her sister’s face. Despite everything, Tora was pleased with herself. It took every ounce of reserve in Elsa to keep from throttling her.

“He thinks he knows who it is anyway. He saw you disappear with him at the wedding. Papa would be livid if he knew! Give me his name, Tora.”

Tora stood and flounced out her skirt, avoiding Elsa’s gaze. “He means nothing to me. His name is Vidar.”

“I suppose you take pride in using this young man?”

Tora simply stared back at her in silence.

“It is not something to be proud of, Tora. Someday your ways will catch up with you.” Getting no response, Elsa sighed again and said, “You may leave.”

As her sister left through the small cabin door, Elsa muttered to herself, “Your ways will catch up with you sooner than you think, dear sister.”

Three days out and still my stomach soars with the ship
, Kaatje mused. She supposed that if she weren’t pregnant, her stomach would have adjusted to the movement of the ship on the sea, much as others’ had. But she and Astrid were still battling to keep down the broth that various women brought them and, between naps, trying to entertain one another with stories. She had always liked Astrid but had not known her very well; now she felt they were close friends.

A quick knock at the door was followed by Soren entering in typical exuberance. “Good afternoon,” he said, bowing gallantly at the hip. “Is there anything I can get for you ladies of leisure?” He came over to the bunk and gave Kaatje a brief kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, Soren,” Kaatje said. “Tell us about what you can see from above deck. We’re feeling a bit closed in.”

“It’s wonderful! It is so marvelous that I’m considering quitting the land and sailing with Peder and Karl and Kristoffer. What a life!”

Kaatje frowned. “What? Quit farming? But our land … our dreams …”

“Oh, Kaatje, I’m only joking,” he said, smiling into her eyes. “But you should see it. We’re nearing Scotland; you can see it in the distance. She rises up out of the gray, swirling seas like a great, green turtle.”

Kaatje giggled at his wild gesticulations and imitation of a sea turtle.

“Last night, I coerced Karl into letting me climb to the crow’s nest.”

“I knew you would.”

“You could see for miles!” he said. “On one side, there was a great school of fish swimming alongside the
Herald
. On the other, two dolphins! It’s like we’re a part of King Neptune’s watery universe!”

Kaatje smiled at his picturesque enthusiasm. She should have known. Soren had fallen for the sea just like he did any new thing in his path.

“And your English lessons, Soren? Are you working with Nora and the others?”

“English! Just listen to my new words! When the
sperra
, or should I say ‘spar,’ becomes entangled with the rigging, they say it’s ‘running afoul.’ ” He paced, puffing out his chest, enjoying the captive audience. “When they say ‘to be all at sea,’ they mean confused. When things are slow, the sailors get together and ‘spin a yarn,’ meaning to tell stories. Oh, this is a grand place, America.”

Kaatje giggled, feeling energized just having him near. “We are not in America yet.”

“I feel like we are. As soon as we entered the
Herald
, we were in a different world.”

“I feel it too,” she said, looking at him with love in her heart. It was if he had been born anew, baptized into a new country. Oh maybe, just maybe, this would work!

“I better go and let you rest. I’ll just take these,” he said, bending to retrieve the tin pails.

Astrid made a weak protest.

“No, no,” Soren said, grinning. “There’s not room to swing a dead cat in here, and you need to get rid of this foul-smelling stuff. I will be right back.”

As he closed the door behind him, Astrid’s weak voice carried up to Kaatje. “He’s like the wind, that one.”

“Yes, he is.”

“How do you keep up with him?”

“I don’t, I fear. Sometimes I worry I’ll lose him. That I can’t keep up, and someday he’ll just run off, like a kite that’s lost its string. I’ve had dreams that I run and run to try and catch him, but he just keeps smiling that impish grin of his and disappearing again. It makes me feel nearly hysterical. I wake up covered with sweat.”

Astrid was silent for a moment. “You cannot live in fear of losing him, Kaatje. I know. Watching Kristoffer go to sea all these years put the fear of God in me. The months apart, the concern that he’d never come home again, threatened to sicken me. Finally, Pastor Lien gave me a prayer that worked for me. Gave me some measure of peace. Maybe it would work for you.”

“I would like to hear it.” Kaatje stared up at the glass prism above her, which looked like a huge, faceted diamond. It had been placed upside down through the wooden deck above, leaving it flush with the flooring and pointing down toward the passengers below. Each facet of the six sides shed a shard of light, and in some ways, it reminded Kaatje of Christ. It comforted her to think of it that way, at any rate.

“Pray with me, Kaatje,” said Astrid then plunged into her prayer. “O God, we ask that thou wilt be with our husbands, whether we are
near or far from them. Protect them, Father God, giving them an extra measure of wisdom before they act. Thou art the author of peace and lover of concord, in knowledge of whom standeth our eternal life, and in whose service is perfect freedom. Defend us, thy humble servants, against all assaults of our enemies, so that we, surely trusting in thy defense, may not fear the power of any adversaries; through the might of Jesus Christ, thy son, our Lord. Amen.”

Kaatje swallowed hard. Never had she heard anyone pray with such sweet assurance that God was listening. It was as if Astrid believed God was her friend, not …
God
. Kaatje was just working up the courage to ask her about it when there was another knock, and Soren burst through the door again. He was opening his mouth to say something when he gave Kaatje an exaggerated “shh” with his finger and pointed down at her companion. Obviously, Astrid had drifted off to sleep as soon as she finished praying.

Soren set a pail down beside Astrid and another on a peg beside Kaatje’s bed. A faint whiff of salt water wafted over her, and she gave him a grateful smile, her lids heavy.

“Maybe you need some rest too,” he said.

Kaatje nodded sleepily. A nap sounded enticing. The conversation with Astrid had left her weary. In fact, it seemed difficult to remain awake anymore. Before Soren could kiss her again, she was asleep, dreaming of mighty angels around her husband, protecting him from something she could not quite see.

With the help of two sailors who looked at her alternately as both a tiresome child and a tempting mistress, Tora retrieved her meager stores of food. That evening she ate alone on deck. Sitting in the fore-castle—or fo’c’sle, as the sailors called it—with her back to the foremast, Tora could ignore the problems at hand. From her vantage point, all that lay between her and her American dream was a steel bowsprit stretching out to the open sea, seemingly pointing the way home. The truth was that her food provisions would run out within
days. She would be forced to go to Elsa and ask her for help. Tora cursed softly under her breath and leaned her head back against the mast. How Elsa would enjoy that moment. She thrived on feeling superior to Tora. Well, she would see who would end up on top. She might be the captain’s bride now, but Tora had bigger goals in mind. Someday, Elsa would come to her.