ALIEN SHIFTER ROMANCE: Alien Tigers - The Complete Series (Alien Invasion Abduction Shapeshifter Romance) (Paranormal Science Fiction Fantasy Anthologies & Short reads) (177 page)

Chapter 4

Elise stared at the letter after rereading it. Lars had said nothing about loving her. How could she possibly go to Forestville, California, if she didn’t know where her life would lead? At least, here she had a place to live and people she knew. There it would just be Lars, nobody else, at least for a while.

Mail-order brides, indeed
, she thought. Aloud, she said, “I wouldn’t want any man so desperate.”

“Why do you say that?” Stina asked as she mounted the steps.

Startled, Elise watched Stina sit down in the rocking chair before she answered with a question to change the subject. “Where have you been?”

“I took a walk over to the general store to talk to Sven.”

“Did you buy anything?”

“No,” Stina said. “Now, stop changing the subject. Why do you say that you wouldn’t want a man so desperate? And desperate for what?”

“I got a letter from Lars today.”

Stina’s eyes brightened at the notion. “What did he say?”

“He misses me,” Elise admitted, her voice without emotion.

“That’s all?” Stina prompted.  “Does he like where he’s living? Does he like his job? Are there a lot of people there? Or is it a small town like Bishop Hill?”

Unable to remain somber, Elise grinned at her enthusiasm. That was Stina, though, always happy and eager to know everything she could about the world.

“Yes, Stina, he likes it there. He says that he likes his job, even though it’s hard work, with long hours.”

“I know he was your suitor, but I miss him, too. People were always laughing when he was around. Did he say what it’s like there?”

Elise handed Stina the letter to read herself. When Stina finished, she looked up at Elise with an excited expression and said, “He wants you to go to this place in California. He wants you to be with him.” She paused a moment before she exclaimed, “He wants you to bring friends! Do you mind if I go?”

“I would think that would be your parents’ decision, not mine,” Elise said with a smile. “What about all of your suitors in Bishop Hill?”

“I am not interested in marrying them, and I would love to go to California. I heard in school that it’s warm there all year long.”

“It doesn’t sound like it is where he is.”

“I don’t care. I would still like to go. There are many men there, different men than we have here. Would you take me with you, Elise? Please?”

“Do you really want a man who is so desperate for a woman that he would look for one in a newspaper or catalog—or brought in by a friend for that purpose?”

“Just because they’re desperate doesn’t mean they aren’t good men. They might make fine husbands.”

Elise considered Stina’s words as she fiddled with the edges of the envelope in which the letter came. Stina had a valid point. These men, whoever they were and wherever they came from, could be just as good as the men in Bishop Hill or nearby Galva or even Galesburg or New York. It didn’t matter where they came from; it mattered that they were just as deserving of love as any other man.

What the heck
, Elise thought.
Why not take a chance? I might just find love
.

“If your parents are willing to let you go, and if they’ll fund your trip, I’ll take you.”

“You’re going?” Stina asked in excitement.

“Why not? Your parents and mine all took a long trip without guarantees of happiness and found it. There’s no reason we shouldn’t, unless your parents say no, of course.”

Two weeks later, Elise, Stina, and Karin boarded the Rock Island Line in Galesburg to begin a new, uncertain future in Forestville, California.

***

The train ride from Galesburg to Omaha, Nebraska, was an adventure of its own. They had crossed into Iowa, not even sixty miles away, when the train stopped unexpectedly. They were barely out of Davenport when a loud bang shook the vehicle.

Karin Bengtson grabbed hold of her seat and clung on as if the train would derail, and other female passengers released screams. But Elise knew that a derailment wouldn’t happen in this case. It sounded more like something had happened to the boiler on the locomotive.

When the train came to a halt and calm returned, the conductor came through the passenger car and let everyone know that it was safe to get up and move around. Unfortunately, he explained, they had engine issues, which should be fixed within the hour if they could get a part at the Rock Island Line exchange across the Mississippi River in Rock Island, Illinois.

The repairs, however, took two hours, and they weren’t back on the move until nearly three hours later. Once they were going again, the trip to Omaha, Nebraska, was uneventful.

In Omaha, they bought tickets for the Union Pacific Railroad for the next day since that day’s train had already left. After a night’s sleep in a nearby hotel, the trio boarded the Union Pacific and made their way to the Pullman car, where they had two long, padded seats facing each other. At night, the conductor came around and pulled down a bed from the wall, and made up the lower and upper bunks. The sisters took the bottom, and Elise climbed into the top bunk each night.

During the days on the trip, Elise marveled at the variety of scenery they passed. Acre upon acre of wheat fields and cattle ranges lined the tracks in Nebraska, while Wyoming melted into cattle and horse ranches and mountains in the distance.

At Ogden, Utah, they changed trains again, this time to the Central Pacific Railroad. This train took them across the upper part of Utah into California and on to San Francisco.

After spending a couple of days exploring the city, Elise, Stina and Karin boarded a stagecoach for their final leg of their journey—to Forestville, California, and the logging community.

On the stage, Elise’s nervousness increased steadily. What would happen when they reached their final destination? Would Lars be there waiting for their arrival? She had told him when they would be arriving, but she hadn’t received a response to her letter before they’d left Bishop Hill. She wasn’t even sure he knew they were coming, because sometimes the mail was pretty slow.

“You okay, Elise?” Karin asked.

“The people in your family ask me that question a lot,” Elise replied, trying her best to be cheerful. “I’m fine.”

“She’s nervous,” Stina added.

“You two have learned English far too well. I can’t keep any secrets from you like I could your parents.”

Stina and Karin laughed, and Stina retorted, “We had a very good teacher.”

“That’s right,” Karin said. “You have only yourself to blame.”

But Elise couldn’t shake the notion that they weren’t expected at the company town, as Lars called it. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she assumed that some company owned it, probably a logging or mill company given the industry there. What would they do if Lars had changed his mind about their joining him in Forestville?

Forestville, Elise thought as she turned her gaze out the window. What an appropriate name for the town. She’d never seen such large trees. They seemed to reach heaven in some places.

“Have you
ever
seen trees to tall?” Stina asked in amazement.

“Never,” Elise replied. “I wonder what kind they are. We’ll have to make it a point to ask Lars.”

Elise turned her gaze back out the window. In the distance she saw some men working on one of the enormously tall trees. The massive trunk had a large wedge cut out of it, large enough for two men to lie down in, head to foot, and still not fill the space. Four men chopped away at the wood with axes that looked like mere hammers against the tree. Two other men worked with a saw that had to be more than fifteen feet long. Unable to believe how hard that work must be, Elise watched them, awed by their stamina.

From the other side of the coach, a man’s shout echoed through the air. “Timber!” She looked out the opposite window in time to see a gigantic tree crash to the ground, its sound reverberating throughout the area.

“Forestville is about ten minutes from here!” the driver announced loudly.

In an instant, Elise forgot the trees. She almost panicked. In only a few minutes, she would know if they’d come all this way for nothing. If only she’d waited until she heard from Lars again before she’d made these plans and left Bishop Hill.

Chapter 5

Much to Elise’s dismay, Lars Olson was nowhere in sight when the women arrived in Forestville. Elise looked down the street to see if he was coming, but all she saw was a church, a general store, a livery stable, and a silversmith’s shop.

She looked the other way. At that end of the street sat a large mill, its waterwheel moving slowly through the river beside it. Several other buildings lined the short street, but no one even looking like Lars came out of them. Where could he be?

A tall man in a plaid shirt with its sleeves rolled up to just above the elbow, a pair of suspenders on his pants, and a wide-brimmed hat approached them.

“Elise?” he asked the trio.

Elise gazed up into a pair of blue eyes, the shade unlike any she’d ever seen. “I’m Elise.”

“I am Mauritz Sten,” he said in a thick Swedish accent. “Lars Olson sent me.”

“
Underbar
!” Wonderful, but she used Swedish so he would know that she spoke it. She introduced her traveling companions by pointing to each as she said the name. “This is Stina Bengtson, and this is Karin Bengtson.”

“
Dere
is a house ready for you,” he told them. “
Ve vill
go dere.”

“
Tack
.” Thank you.

By now, the stagecoach driver had taken their bags from the top of the wagon and set them on the boardwalk. After Elise told him in Swedish which ones were theirs, he picked up the largest of the six small bags and tucked it under his arm. Then he picked up two large bags, and the young women each took one.

They followed him through the streets of Forestville until they reached a small house about three blocks away. There he mounted the steps to the front door and set the bags on the porch. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a key, unlocked the door, and opened it for the trio.

“
Tank
,” they chorused as they entered the small house.

Elise examined the sparse furnishings as she set her bag on the floor in a corner. They had only the essentials for a family of three—a Victorian sofa, a padded chair, and a kitchen table with four chairs around it. She assumed the fourth chair was in case one of them had a guest for dinner.

She would have liked to see a footstool or two, but there were none. That didn’t matter, though. She had plenty of money with which to purchase one for each of them.

Then she noticed something in the corner of the kitchen that surprised her—an icebox. She had seen pictures of them, but she’d never lived anywhere that had one. The prospect of using one unexpectedly excited her.

When Mauritz removed his hat, Elise stared at the mass of curly blond hair he had. He obviously hadn’t had a haircut in quite a while, but Elise found the curls attractive on him. He was tall, too, taller than Lars. She herself was tall for a woman, but not overly so. Other than buying certain items of clothing, she liked being tall, too.

Speaking in Swedish, Elise said, “Thank you for meeting us at the stagecoach, Mr. Sten.”

With a wide grin, he replied in Swedish as well. “Please, call me Moya. And you’re welcome. There are two bedrooms here. One room is bigger than the other and has two beds. The other room has just one bed.”

“We’ll take the bigger room,” Stina offered. “We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you, Elise. You deserve to have your own room.”

“Thanks, Stina,” Elise said. “I appreciate that.”

Turning toward Moya, Elise smiled up at him. He was really quite attractive, with classically Swedish looks—the long face, the slightly larger nose, the blue eyes and blond hair. What she liked most was that his entire face lit up when he smiled.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Anderson?” he asked, still in Swedish.

“If I’m to call you Moya, you must call me Elise. And I can’t think of anything else.”

“Then I’ll leave you to your unpacking. Lars will come visit you after he finishes work.”

“All right. Thank you again, Moya.”

“Yes, thank you,” Stina inserted. “We appreciate your help, right, Karin?”

“We do,” Karin added in her reserved tone. “Thank you.”

“Then,” Moya said, “good day, ladies. I hope to see you around town often.”

When he said the last sentence, he gazed directly into Elise’s eyes. The grin on his lips made her heart feel as though it skipped a beat. So far, she liked Moya a lot, but she had just met him, too. She needed to get to know him so she could make a determination as to if she could see more of him in the future.

After the door closed behind Moya, the women dispersed to their rooms with their respective baggage. As Elise unpacked and put her clothes into the armoire in the corner of her room, she wished she could learn more about Moya. Unfortunately, she had no doubt that Lars expected them to resume their courtship. Why else had he invited her to join him?

He’d said that he missed her. He’d said that he wanted her to join him. Unfortunately, he’d never said that he loved her. One thing her father had told her before he’d died was that she should never be with a man who couldn’t express his love for her in words. He’d said it several times, too, so she knew it was important to him that she not forget his advice. She wouldn’t forget, either. She would honor her father by remembering his main death-bed concern.

She picked up the Swedish Bible that she’d previously laid on the nightstand and held her father’s book to her chest.

“I can’t believe I’ve done this,
fader
,” she said to the empty room. “I can’t believe that I started out in New York and ended up in California. It’s been a long, trying trip, but here I am. Now what do I do,
fader
? I came without the man I followed using the words
I love you
.

“The only reason I came was because Mrs. Bengtson said that I should. Now that I’m here, I worry that I made a mistake. Lars didn’t even care enough to meet me at the stage. Instead, he sent Moya. Have I been naïve in thinking that this would work out for me? Maybe I should have listened to my heart where Lars is concerned.

“I told you before that I didn’t think I love him, yet I came here, anyway. How foolhardy could I be!

“Now that I’m here, though, the first person I met is a very nice young man, who reminds me a lot of you.”

She startled at the statement and dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed. She hadn’t even considered that. Moya reminded her of her father. Maybe that was why she wanted to get to know him better. Was that wise? Was it a good start to a courtship? Or even a mere friendship?