Northern Lights Trilogy (93 page)

“Together? Seriously?” Karl shook his head. “How did this transpire?”

“Well, Trent Storm is deeply in love with Tora Anders.”

They had reached the cafe, and Karl could hardly stand the interruption of being seated. As soon as the menus had been distributed and the waiter had departed, Karl said, “Please! Go on! Last time I talked with Trent, he had tracked Tora to the Seattle area, but had not seen her.”

“Well, he found her all right,” Brad said.

“He found her and they reestablished their relationship. Tora Anders is a different girl now. You wouldn’t recognize her,” Virginia said.

“No joking,” Brad added. “The woman’s had some sort of transformation.”

“Reformation,” Virginia amended. “She’s come to Christ and he’s remade her. I like her a lot better than I ever did in Minnesota.”

“So anyway,” Brad cut in, “Tora decided to go to Alaska to help Kaatje find out about her husband that disappeared way back when. Sam, or Saul—”

“Soren,” Karl supplied.

“That’s right. Soren. And she writes Trent this letter telling him
that she needs to go with her, and she hopes they can find their way to be together again, but if not, she would understand if he had to forget their relationship completely.”

“Tora Anders wrote
that?
”

“She’s a different gal, I tell you,” Brad said.

“But anyway, that was right after I asked Trent if he would consider doing some business with me up in the new territory, seeing that you have this newfound love for the sea …”

“I understand. So Trent took it as God’s way of confirming that it was the right thing for him to do?”

“Right.”

“Can you believe it?” Virginia asked. “It’s a miracle.”

Karl nodded. “Our God works in amazing ways.” He turned his attention back to his menu, but his mind was again spinning. Who could have planned it this way other than their Lord?

“I’ll want in on the shipping end,” he said to Brad.

“I was counting on it. Can’t stand to be left out, eh?” he taunted.

“Out of something lucrative that involves the sea?” Karl said.

“Stick around,” Brad said. “Trent should be back soon from sending a telegraph with his happy news to Tora, and then we’ll be shipping out of here on a passenger steamer. We could discuss our options.”

“I don’t know. I need to get back to the Bay Area. Perhaps I can go there, drop my load of lumber, pick up a load of goods and head to Juneau. We could meet there. No doubt the new arrivals are hungry for anything I could bring in.”

“Most likely.”

Karl nodded and turned back to the menu as the waiter approached them again. “Waiter,” he said, feeling celebratory, “I’ll have your finest, biggest steak, and all the trimmings.”

T
ora and Trent, Bradley and Virginia, and Kaatje and her children all gathered at the docks, huddling against the cold as they waited to board the steamer to Juneau. There was an icy wind off the Puget Sound’s waters that morning, and Tora was glad they were on their way. Winter would soon be upon them, especially as far north as Alaska. She bent over Kaatje’s girls, tucking their hoods more firmly around red, chapped cheeks.

She glanced up to see Trent moving nearer, smiling. He had taken to the girls as he did to all children. She was certain he would be a wonderful father someday. Tora too felt a new desire to begin a family with Trent, but a sudden fear overtook her. What would happen if they never had children of their own? She had heard of other women who’d borne children early in their lives, only to be barren when they wanted more children later. Her glance went from Trent to the girls, and then to Kaatje.

Kaatje looked back at Tora as if she could read her thoughts, kindness in her eyes. As soon as she had heard that Trent was coming north, that he wanted to marry her, she had begun her campaign to convince Tora of the wisdom of a wedding. But Tora had remained steadfast. It was enough that he was coming with them. She was sure this was how
it was supposed to be; for her to remain free to support Kaatje through this transition. When the time was right, she would know. There was a peace about it all; as if she knew, deep down, that it was all going to work out right, regardless of their dreams and desires and decisions. For now she had to concentrate on what the Lord wanted, first.

Christina leaned toward Jessica and whispered something to her. They giggled together conspiratorially, and Tora smiled. She felt a genuine love for them both. There had only been hints of it with Kristoffer’s boys and Jessica in the short months she had spent with them in Camden. At the time, all she had allowed herself to think about was the future. She hadn’t allowed herself to truly care. Now she knew that the present was the most precious moment of all. One never knew what was behind the next corner.

“Now boarding!” called the captain from his deck. “All first-class passengers proceed to the aft deck and hand your carry-on luggage to the steward as you board!” Trent had insisted on purchasing tickets for Kaatje, her girls, Tora, and himself, so they were all traveling with Brad and Virginia in first-rate accommodations. He and Kaatje and Tora had spent the last several evenings talking about different business options in Alaska, and Trent had chalked up the steamer tickets to “an advance on my investment,” obviously assuming he’d buy into anything Tora and Kaatje decided upon, so great did he consider the opportunity spectrum in the new territory, so strong was his belief in the two women.

A man collected their tickets from Trent as they passed him, and Tora helped keep the Janssen girls from leaning too far over the edge, herding them up the gangplank like excited rabbits. To them, this was an adventure; there was no fear. What was it about childhood that allowed such fresh perspective? She wanted to remember it, feel it herself. Because it was how she wanted to proceed, with the faith of a small child. Regardless of what had transpired, regardless of what had happened to her to this point, she always wanted to remember to step
forward with the grace, excitement, and assuredness that the girls exhibited before her.

“Ready?” Trent asked, taking her hand as she stepped onto the ship, his look meaningful.

“Ready,” she said.

Elsa could not explain why she was feeling the way she did. She was restless, irritable, unhappy. Ever since she had returned to Seattle, she had struggled with a vague sense of disappointment, as if she had organized a party and no one had attended. She supposed it was because she had been met with the news that her friends and sister were heading north. She chided herself for being childish. Her mother’s words came to her often:
It’s always easier to be the one going than the one left behind
.

Was that what she considered herself? Left behind? Since marrying Peder, she had largely been the one waving good-bye to those at home. After she convinced him to let her travel with him, that is. But could she not bear it with greater grace? Surely there was some deeper reason for her disquiet than that.

If only I had had a chance to say good-bye
, she thought, staring out the window at a brilliant Seattle fall day. The leaves were in full regalia, reminding her of those in Camden-by-the-Sea. Even that thought made her more melancholy, wishing for friends she had not seen in over two years. Briefly she considered a transcontinental trip by train, but then immediately discounted it, unwilling to put her children, or Mrs. Hodge, through such an ordeal.

If only I had had a chance to say good-bye
, she thought again, picturing Kaatje’s face, the two girls, and lastly Tora’s. She was a bit jealous, she decided, that Kaatje and Tora had forged a new friendship strong enough to take Tora northward with Kaatje, when she herself and Tora were more distant than ever. What kind of sisters were they? If Carina were here, then … “Uff da!” Elsa muttered under her breath, turning
away from the window. Since when had she started feeling so sorry for herself? She went to her desk and sat down with Kaatje’s last letter.

A tap at the door interrupted her reverie. “Come in,” she called idly.

Mrs. Hodge hauled in a canvas bag full of letters over one shoulder and Eve on the other. “Mail call,” she said drolly. “More response from your last column in the
Times
. And a child in need of her mother.”

Elsa shook her head and smiled. She took Eve and cooed at her daughter’s pudgy, smiling face. “I am amazed that so many take the step to wish me well. I guess there are a few people out there pleased to know that Mason Dutton is no longer a threat.” When the Japanese ships had moved in, they had made short work of Dutton’s schooner, although they lost two of their own in the battle. Mason had managed to slip ashore, but he had been captured and sent to Britain. He was due to hang in a month’s time.

“Any personal letters?” Elsa switched Eve to her other shoulder.

“I didn’t sift through them all,” Mrs. Hodge said.

Just then, Kristian edged past her legs. “Mama!”

“Hi, love,” Elsa said, ruffling his hair. “Want to look through the letters with me?”

“Yes!” he said in delight. He sat down by the bag and began to dump handfuls to the floor. When Mrs. Hodge moved to stop him, Elsa shook her head. “I’ll have to go through them all eventually. We might as well let him have some fun with them.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to see to supper. You’ll be all right with the children?”

“Just fine,” said Elsa, smiling at each. She should have gone to get her children earlier—she could never remain melancholy with them about. “And Mrs. Hodge?”

“Yes?”

“The children and I will travel north to the Skagit Valley for Thanksgiving. That should give you some time off to concentrate on your own family.”

“Very well!” she said, looking pleased at the news. “When do you intend to leave?”

Elsa thought for a moment and then said, “Midmonth. I’ll send a wire to Nora and see if she and Einar can put us up.”

“Very good, Mrs. Ramstad. I’ll see to the arrangements once you get me the specific dates.”

After the children were down for their naps, Elsa donned her overcoat and, using an umbrella, set off for the cemetery. It was time to pay Peder’s grave a visit. She thought it might bring her some semblance of peace, some understanding for her disquieted heart. She passed by the three blocks quickly and turned into the somber place, the ground already soggy and giving way beneath her feet after all the recent rain. Pulling up her skirts in one hand, Elsa wrinkled her nose and trudged on. She was alone in the graveyard. Here and there, bits of fog hung about the stones.

Peder’s grave site remained exactly as she had left it. She pulled away the dead flowers beneath the stone and replaced them with marigolds she had cut from the garden before departing. That done,
she stood and sighed. Elsa gave the stone a melancholy smile, picturing Peder’s face instead of the anchor.

“I suppose you’d have a thing or two to tell me,” she began. “No doubt you’re displeased with me taking to sea alone. But even you would have to admit that I’ve done all right for myself, love. Even faced down Mason Dutton and made it out alive.”