Northern Lights Trilogy (107 page)

July 1888

E
lsa paced as Riley brought the
Majestic
into the Panamanian harbor of Cristobal. She was anxious to get ashore, to bathe and have her feet on solid ground. For as much as the sea had stolen her heart, coming into port never failed to excite her. Or her children. They bounced up and down around her, pointing out different things on the verdant, tropical shore and yelling in their excitement.

The sailors at the capstan released the heavy chain, and the anchor left the ship with a tremendous splash, followed by the clunking
whir
as it descended to the harbor floor. Riley reversed the ship’s engines, bringing the giant steamship to a halt.

“Come, Mother,” Kristian begged, pulling at her hand. “Let us be on the first launch ashore!”

“All right, all right,” she said, laughing. She self-consciously smoothed her tailored walking dress of brown plaid and then nodded again at her children. “What do you want to do first?”

“I want to go to the Taylors’ to fish, and I want ice cream at Señor Manuel’s!” Kristian said.

“We will go for ice cream after our noon meal,” she returned. “And I will send a note to Mrs. Taylor asking if we may call upon them.” Adrian Taylor was the American consul general to Panama.
Elsa and Peder had been introduced to Adrian and Isabella a number of years prior, and Elsa and Isabella had become fast friends. The Taylors’ son, Michael, had a birthday within days of Kristian’s, and the boys got along splendidly. Elsa knew that as soon as the Taylors heard she was in port, they would invite the Ramstads to stay. She looked forward to their visit with pleasure.

“Cap’n?” Eric Young, her second mate, called. “You and the young’uns want to be first ashore?” Eric had joined her and Riley on her first voyage out of Seattle after Peder’s death. At first, Elsa had wondered if he would challenge the authority of a female captain. But the glint in his eye proved only to be a mark of good humor and quick wit, rather than defiance.

“Aye, Eric. If I do not, I fear a mutiny among our smallest mates.”

Eric laughed and then grabbed Kristian, hanging him upside down. The boy screeched in delight.

“Not before I throw this pirate over the side!”

“Let go o’ me, you filthy bilge rat!” Kristian yelled.

“Kristian Ramstad!” Elsa reprimanded. “You know better to say that, even in jest.”

“Ah, now, Cap’n,” Eric said, coming to Kristian’s defense. “That isn’t the worst the boy hears.”

“Please, do not remind me. In any case, he is a Ramstad, and my son. I expect him to speak in higher regard to the second mate of this ship, or to any elder, for that matter.”

“Captain—” Eric stopped as he met her determined glance, then he set Kristian to rights. “Better mind your step, Kristian,” he said, ruffling his sandy hair, “or the cap’n will tar and feather you.” He bent down and whispered something in the boy’s ear, and Kristian laughed.

“I will choose to ignore that,” Elsa said. She was sure the comment was at her expense, but she valued the rapport Kristian had with the crew even if it meant a little chafing on her behalf. They were his father figures, after all, the men he would eventually emulate. And Eric and Riley and Cook were all admirable men. She accepted Eric’s
proffered hand and climbed aboard a small boat that was tied at the side of the ship, then reached for her children.

When Riley and several select sailors were aboard with them, those still aboard began the process of slowly lowering them to the turquoise sea. There were small waves today as the wind was up, and they lapped against the side of the boat once it rested.

“Heave ashore, men,” Riley directed.

Four men, each at a long oar, did as he directed, singing a sailing song that kept time for their rowing. Elsa smiled at the sound of the men’s voices blending in a nice harmony. It warmed her heart like the sun on her broad-brimmed hat, these men and their solidarity. They were sound company, but still it would be good to be with another woman. Her smile broadened as she thought of Isabella Taylor. In some ways, the woman reminded her of Kaatje, with her fierce loyalty and steady composure. In others, she reminded her of Tora, with the proud way she held her shoulders back and her chin high.

Perhaps they needn’t wait through the formalities of an announcement of their arrival and an invitation. No, she would simply surprise her friend. After taking their noon meal at a restaurant, of course. She wouldn’t want to impose. But remembering Isabella’s warm smile, Elsa doubted it would ever be an imposition. They had met at Lady Bancock’s ball in Honolulu, then later in Japan, and still later in Maine. Isabella’s husband, a Mainer, had been a sea captain like Peder before turning to politics. After a brief term as a United States senator, Adrian Taylor had accepted the post as consul general in Panama.

Elsa knew that a large part of his job was to oversee the overland trade that Americans were doing in Panama. There was talk of a canal someday, but for now a huge amount of cargo was carted across the isthmus via railroad, saving shipping companies weeks in transit time. Adrian worked constantly at bettering the labor force, the equipment, the track, and the relations with Panamanians.

Within minutes they were at the local docks. Riley helped Elsa, and then the children, to the rough, salt-eroded planks.

“Lewis and Smyth,” he said to two of the more burly sailors, “I want you to accompany the captain and her children about town and north to Aspinwah. You can have extra shore leave in exchange for your time now.”

“Riley, I don’t really think that is necessary,” Elsa protested under her breath. She was as tall as her wiry first mate, and she looked him in the eye.

“Cap’n, we’ve been through this.”

“But, Riley, I know this town. I know the people.”

“You knew Yokohama too.” He referred to that day in Japan when Mason Dutton had kidnapped her right outside the trade building in which Riley had been doing business. The memory still obviously agitated her friend. But after almost two years, his overprotective nature was getting a bit tiresome.

“Will you ever forget that day?” She knew she could insist they go on alone. She was, after all, still captain. And yet as much as she hated it, it was probably wise to have an escort with her.

“No, Cap’n. And I don’ think you should e’er do so either.”

“Very well, Riley. We will return at, say, four o’clock? To get back to the ship.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” He nodded once, acknowledging her command, but Elsa could see the glimmer of pleasure at her acquiescence in his eyes. As much as it irritated her, it was why she insisted he be her first mate; Riley always looked out for her and her children.

“Come along, boys,” she said to the two bodyguards. “I’ll buy you a meal in town.” They followed behind, and Elsa balanced Eve on her hip as she took Kristian by the hand. On the boardwalk that led to Cristobal’s main thoroughfare, the ground felt leaden and foreign after weeks aboard the
Majestic.
But oh, how happy she was for the new sights and smells! She found herself staring into shop windows with the same eagerness as her children. Quickly they made their way to the restaurant they had not eaten in for over a year.

After lunch, Elsa asked Paul Smyth to hire a coach for them for the day. “An open one,” she added. “I do not care to be inside on a day such as this.” The afternoon’s heat combined with the tropical humidity made Elsa’s dress chafe at the collar. She was unaccustomed to fussy clothes such as these; aboard ship, she wore simple cotton dresses with split skirts. Still, she was determined to greet Isabella in proper attire.

Smyth soon pulled up outside the restaurant, and David Lewis helped her and the children into the carriage. She settled upon the leather-covered bench, melting under the hot sun’s torturous glare, and David then climbed on the back. Smyth flicked the reins over a mismatched pair of horses, and they were off. A mile north of town, past fields of sugar cane, at the top of a long, grassy hill that overlooked the Caribbean Sea, stood the Taylors’ understated, elegant home built in the Spanish colonial style. Even the sight of its soothing adobe made Elsa feel a bit cooler. Outside, under a canopy of thick vines and beside a small table, sat Isabella, Adrian, and a man who looked vaguely familiar.

Her driver pulled the horses to a stop at the end of the lane beside the house, and the trio at the table rose.

“Elsa!” Isabella called in delight. “Elsa Ramstad!” She hurried over to the wagon and pulled Elsa into her embrace as soon as she descended. “And this cannot be Kristian and Eve!”

“It is!” Kristian said earnestly, as if the woman were truly confused. “Is Michael at home?”

Isabella laughed, the light sound of it bringing another smile to Elsa’s lips. “He is down at the beach, Kristian. He hooked up a rope to a tree down there and sails high over the water, then drops in. If your mother approves, you may join him.”

“May I? May I?” he asked, his eyebrows high. Something in his expression reminded her of Peder, and a pang of melancholy shot through her heart.

“Is it safe?” she asked Isabella.

“Quite. No more than a few feet deep. Michael will show him.”

“Oh, please, Mama,” Kristian begged.

Kristian was an incredible swimmer for his age, and Elsa assumed Michael must be too. If Isabella trusted her son… “All right,” she gave in. “Be sure to take off your finery before swimming!” she called after his slim form that was racing away from her as fast as he could go.

“Go, go!” Eve begged, reaching after her brother.

“Oh, sorry, darling. You’re not old enough to go without me.”

“Never mind swimming,” Isabella jumped in. “Come up to the house, Eve. I have a wonderful assortment of dolls and a tea set just your size.” Isabella and Adrian’s tiny daughter had died of consumption, Elsa remembered. She wondered at the pain of losing a child, surely an even greater pain than losing a spouse, putting a tiny body in a grave. No doubt, Elsa would have clung to Eve’s toys and clothes too had a similar tragedy befallen her.

Isabella raised a hand. A maid appeared from the shadows and after a brief word took Eve up to the house, presumably to play with toys. “Elsa, Elsa,” Adrian said, interrupting her thoughts as he drew near and took her hand with both of his. “It is a delight to see you.”

“And you, Adrian,” she returned.

He gestured toward his companion. “I believe you know Lucas Laning.”

She looked to Luke in surprise. “Mr. Laning! It’s been years.” She found herself looking over his shoulder for his captain, Karl Martensen, and, knowing it was rude, forced her gaze back to him as he took her hand and kissed it.

He looked back up at her with a smile in his eyes. “He is not here.”

Elsa pretended confusion. “Pardon me?”

“Your friend, my captain. Karl Martensen.”

“Oh yes, of course.” She battled to keep the sorrow at such news from her voice. It had been so long since they had seen each other. What a delight it would have been to chance upon him here! “He is off to some other waters, I take it?”

“He took a steamboat around the Horn and is on his way to San Francisco. I am overseeing the shipment of parts for two shallow draft ships across the isthmus and tomorrow will accompany them to Alaska. Karl is using the giant steamboat for those travelling to Alaska on holiday, and the two smaller boats for business along the river ways.”

“A wise plan.”

“Indeed,” Isabella said. “Come. You must be desperate to escape the sun. I am! Let us go back to the table and drink our tea.”

“That sounds divine,” Elsa returned.

Isabella linked her arm through Elsa’s. “Tell me. Tell me where you have been, where you are going.”

“Well, I just returned from Bergen.”

“To see your mother?”

“Yes. I tried my best to convince her to come home with me, but she wasn’t willing.”

Isabella nodded in an understanding way. “I miss my own dear mother. It is terrible to be so far away from loved ones.”

“But I am so thankful to have been able to see them. To introduce my children to their grandparents—we saw Peder’s parents, too—and aunts and uncles and cousins. Many never have such a chance after leaving their home country.”

“That’s one of the good things about shipping,” Adrian interjected as they sat down at the table. “Since coming here, we have seen none of our family.”

“But friends from far and wide come through here,” Luke said. “It is a good place for that.”

Elsa studied Karl’s first mate. He was handsome, with dark, almost black hair, and eyes to match.
He and Karl would be a striking duo
, she thought,
just as Peder and Karl once were.
He returned her look with interest, and Elsa quickly drew her attention to Isabella.

“Does it feel like home yet?”

“It does,” Isabella said. “We really could not be happier.”

Adrian sat back and raised his glass of iced tea toward Elsa. “If you people with Alaska connections could get us more ice, it would be perfect.”

“I had heard there is a company doing just that. The Greater Alaska Ice Company, I think.”