by Kris Tualla
“Waiting? No! We have been celebrating here.”
“Celebrating? What is the occasion?”
Rickard looked at Nicolas as though he was feeble-minded. “Have you not heard?”
“Heard what?”
Rickard savored his upper hand. “You truly do not know?”
“It seems we do not, Rickard. What has occurred?” Sydney tugged his sleeve.
“Well, then.” Rickard straightened and extended his hands. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you all…”
Nicolas and Sydney exchanged anticipatory glances.
“…to the newly created…”
Rickard paused.
“…twenty-fourth state of these United States of America!”
Jaws dropped.
“Missouri is a state? As of when?”
“Friday last; August the tenth!”
“Six days ago?” Nicolas slapped his forehead. “We just missed it?”
“That you did!” Rickard jerked his thumb toward a large carriage. “Would you care for me to drive you to the hotel? The livery can bring your trunks.”
Nicolas held up a finger. “First I have a very important piece to safely stow.”
Rickard arched a brow. “That sounds interesting.”
Nicolas talked to the longshoreman as the dragon emerged from the bottom of the paddleboat, leashed on a winch. A wagon master adjusted the position of his wagon and the dragon was laid to rest in its bed.
“That?” Rickard’s incredulous look made Sydney laugh.
“It’s part of the story,” she explained and patted Rickard’s back.
He looked at her like he doubted Nick’s sanity. “I cannot wait.”
***
“I cannot eat another bite,” Nicolas laid his napkin over his fourth plate of catfish.
“That is a great relief.” Rickard’s eyes twinkled. “I shall alert the newspapers that the Mississippi shall not be stripped of her catfish population after all!”
“Not for lack of effort, mind you!” Nicolas laughed and belched. “Best catfish in all of Missouri!”
Bronnie touched Sydney’s hand. “Now that we know all about your deceptions, and your escape, can you tell me about being a midwife? Have you been present at a number of births?”
“Yes, and I have delivered a number of babies as well. I would say maybe seventy-five…”
“Really?” Bronnie’s eyes widened. Her hands pressed her restless belly.
“Really?” Nicolas and Rickard echoed.
Sydney looked at Nicolas, exasperated. “It was nine months, so at the least, thirty-six weeks! Two babies a week would put me at seventy two. Some weeks were less, but some weeks were much busier than that!”
“I had no idea.” Nicolas sounded impressed. He signaled for another pitcher of beer, and then addressed Rickard. “Tell me about statehood. Are we slave or free?”
“Slave.” Rickard’s voice remained level. “Maine came in as a free state under the Missouri Compromise of 1820. That keeps the number of slave and non-slave states equal at twelve each.”
“We have a compromise named after us? Who wrote it?” Sydney refilled everyone’s glasses.
“A man by the name of Henry Clay.”
“He’s from Lexington! In Kentucky!” Sydney bit her lower lip. “I believe that I might have met him once.”
“So that is the way of it then?” Nicolas lifted his glass. “One free state for every slave state added?” He drained the cup, then plunked it on the table. “Did I tell you, Rick, about the slave ship we passed?”
“Nicolas.” Sydney’s soft voice carried its warning effortlessly. “Not now, please.”
Nicolas’s navy eyes darkened, but he said no more.
“Where have they put the capitol?” Sydney turned to Rickard.
He dragged his somber gaze from Nicolas to her. “Governor McNair made St. Charles the temporary capitol. The first legislators met there on June 4th of this year.”
“That’s not far from St. Louis, is it?”
Nicolas shook his head as if to shake off his mood. “About twelve miles to the northwest. Give or take. But what do you mean by temporary?”
“There is to be a new city built—Jefferson City—right in the center of the state. But nothing is there now.” With a wry chuckle Rickard added, “Nothing but land, which has just increased a hundredfold in value!”
Chapter Thirty Five
August 17, 1821
The first thing Nicolas saw at his estate was new wood siding on the top half of the stable. The new roof was not yet completed. Jeremy McCain, the young man Nicolas hired more than a year ago, was hammering shingles over the lathes.
“Our luck with twisters must have run out,” Nicolas said. “I wonder if aught else was damaged?”
John stopped the carriage in front of the house and gave a loud whistle. The front door disappeared and Addie’s welcoming bulk filled the frame. She hustled across the porch, her arms hitching as she carefully took the steps one at a time.
“Oh, my Lord! There you are! I have never seen such a sight in all my days, as welcome as you all!” She dabbed her eyes with her ever-present white apron. “Come on down and let me give you a hug!” She stretched her arms out.
Stefan was the first to reach her. “Addie! Look! I grew!” he exclaimed, his last two words muffled by her ample bosom.
“So you did! I almost didn’t recognize you! I swear, you’ll be taller than me by tomorrow morning!”
Stefan laughed and turned to Leif. “Did you hear that?”
“I hear,” Leif growled. He stood by the carriage.
Nicolas lifted Kirstie, awakening her, and stepped out of the carriage. He held out a hand for Sydney.
“Is that my baby girl?” Addie gasped. “She’s gotten so big!” She wiped another tear.
Sydney flew into the older woman’s arms. “Lord knows, I have missed you, Addie!”
When Sydney took Kirstie, Nicolas picked up his erstwhile nanny and spun her around before setting her back on her feet. Addie grabbed him for support.
“Lord, have mercy!” Addie gasped and shaded her eyes. “Who is this young man?”
“This is Leif Sebastian Hansen, my young cousin. He has come to America to work for me. He is particularly good with horses.”
Addie stuck out her hand and Leif stepped forward to shake it. “Welcome to the Hansen manor, Mister Leif.”
“Thank you.” Leif dipped his chin.
All heads turned at the sound of the livery pulling into the yard. Addie stared at the statue reclining in the bed of that wagon.
She turned to Nicolas, her jaw dropped in surprise. “I know I called you ‘Sir Nicky’ most of your life, but I never expected you to slay a real dragon! What in God’s good name have you got there?”
“It’s an antique oak carving from a Viking longship.” Nicolas waved the wagon closer. “We shall set it here!” he called to the driver.
Sydney faced the house. Anne stood in the doorway, gripping the doorjamb, her lower lip firmly in her teeth. Before she could call out to the girl, Jeremy trotted around the corner.
“Mister Hansen! Welcome home, sir!” He offered Nicolas his hand. Nicolas shook it heartily.
Jeremy turned to Sydney, his smile blinding. “And you, Madam!”
“Thank you, Jeremy.” Sydney waved to Anne. “Come out and join us!” Anne left the sanctuary of the doorway and edged toward them.
“Come on, men! Help me slide this off the wagon and set it up!” Nicolas instructed. Between John, Jeremy, Nicolas and the livery driver, the dragon was placed upright in front of the house. Nicolas wiped his brow on his sleeve and tipped the driver handsomely.
Stefan hopped around it. “I can practice my sword on it, can’t I Pappa?”
“Sword?” Addie’s eyes rounded. “Certainly you don’t mean—”
“He does,” Sydney confirmed.
Stefan parried and lunged with an imaginary weapon.
Nico
las clapped his hands and addressed the small crowd. “We are so glad to be home! Let us get our things unloaded, and we shall, all of us, have dinner together. We have so much to tell you!”
Everyone picked up something and headed into the house, but Sydney held back. She turned to look at her favorite tree, the red maple. Two small, white, stone crosses were barely visible over the tall grass of the front yard. She sighed, warmed by the sight of them.
She climbed the porch steps and entered the manor, closed her eyes, and inhaled. The essences of leather and tobacco reached her from Nicolas’s study on her left. She turned to the drawing room on her right, and breathed in the scents of the wool carpet, beeswax polish, and the idle fireplace.
She trailed her fingers along the wall of the hallway to the kitchen, and peeked into the dining room. She smelled silver polish and pepper. Warm aromas of baking bread and roasting meat wafted from the kitchen.
It smelled like home.
Sydney doubled back to the staircase. As she climbed the stairs, she paused in front of the portraits. She clearly saw Anders in his father Frederick’s face. She touched the smile, suddenly knowing that these people were very real.
With a deeply contented sigh, Sydney continued up the stairs. She entered her bedroom; the trunks waited there for her. They could wait a bit longer.
But a stack of letters from her mother sat—neatly tied with ribbon—on her dressing table. Sydney grabbed them up and put them to her nose. Lavender. Sailing up the Mississippi prevented a return visit to her parents’ home, so these would have to do.
A pang of regret threatened to prompt tears. She sniffed, swallowed, and tucked the letters under her arm, loathe to let go of them. Instead, she opened the door to the adjoining nursery.
“Bless Addie’s heart!” she breathed. The room was transformed from a baby’s room to a toddler’s room, with plenty of pink.
“This is your room, Kirstie! Do you like it?” Sydney tickled her daughter, who rewarded her with a delighted giggle.
She walked through her daughter’s brightened room and back into the hall. Nicolas was coming out of the opposite room, the room she first woke up in over two years ago.
“I shall put Leif in here.” He looked back over his shoulder. He seemed distracted.
“Nicolas?”
He turned back to face her.
“Is aught amiss?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Might I ask you a question, min presang?”
“Of course.”
He rested his hands on his hips and shook his head. His voice was so low she had to lean forward to hear him. “Were John and Addie this old when we left?”
Sydney rested her hand on his arm. “Yes.”
“Why did I not see it?” he wondered.
“You saw them everyday. I would wager they looked the same to you as they did when you were a boy.”
Nicolas nodded, and a wry smile curved his lips. “I shall talk to John and Jeremy. Perhaps we will keep the young ones on and allow John and Addie to retire from their duties.”
“That might be a good idea,” Sydney agreed.
“I shall have to add on to the house, of course. I don’t believe they would be willing to go far.”
“No, I do not imagine they would.”
***
Sydney entered the kitchen, tying an apron over her skirt. She was taken back to see Addie sitting at the table, snapping peas, and Anne bustling around preparing dinner. In Addie’s kitchen?
“How might I help?” Sydney asked Addie.
It was Anne who answered. “Could you stir this gravy so it doesn’t burn?”
“Of course.”
As she stirred the sauce, Sydney watched the camaraderie between Addie and Anne. Anne deferred to Addie’s suggestions, but it seemed to be out of politeness. Anne was clearly in charge.
The dining room was just large enough to hold the expanded Hansen household. Once all the food was set out, Nicolas said the blessing.
“Thank you, Father, for bringing us all together here this day. Your bounty is plentiful, and we are exceedingly grateful.”
Sydney crossed herself. A chorus of ‘amens’ preceded the dismantling of that very bounty.
“I miss Maribeth,” Addie wiped yet another tear as she contemplated her plate. “Are you certain she is happy?”
“She was positively glowing on her wedding day, Addie. She wanted me to tell you every detail!” Sydney assured her. “She was a beautiful bride.”
“She was that!” Nicolas nodded. “I never realized she had it in her.”
“Lots of people got married,” Stefan added.
“Oh?” Addie smiled at him. “Who else got married then?”
“Maribeth… Onkel Rick…” Stefan ticked off his fingers. “…and Onkel Gunnar.”
“What? What!” Addie shrieked. “Nicolas Reidar Hansen! Why didn’t you say anything? Gunnar, married? How do you know? Did you see him? Where is he? Is he still in the navy?”
Nicolas’s grin widened. “I intended to tell you when I had your undivided attention. We saw him in Philadelphia. He left the navy and moved into the estate house there. He married a local girl.”
“Oh! Isn’t that just the most wonderful news? Do you suppose they might come out to Missouri soon? It’s hard to travel with children. Maybe they will come before they have a baby?” Addie’s earnest hopefulness rang in her voice.
“Too late.” Stefan spooned mashed potatoes into his mouth.
“What’s that?” Addie’s head swiveled so quickly Sydney thought it might twist off. “What’s too late?”
Sydney laid a hand on Addie’s arm. “I delivered their son, Rory Magnus Hansen, when we saw them in June.”
“Oh! Oh, my!” Addie fanned herself with her napkin.
John nodded. “A son. Good for Gunnar.” And he returned to his roasted chicken.
***
After dinner, Nicolas retrieved his brandy flask.
“John, will you walk with me to the stable?” He grabbed two glasses.
John followed him outside. They strolled toward the stable under a darkening purple sky. Specks of light brightened as black swallowed the last traces of sunset. In the stable Nicolas lit a lamp and spoke to his stallion, Fyrste.
“Du hus meg, gammel mann?” Do you remember me, old man? “Jeg har vært borte en lang tid.” I have been away a long time.
Fyrste’s head bobbed at Nicolas’s voice and he sniffed the proffered knuckles. His tail began to twitch and he shook his mane in greeting, prancing in the stall.
“Well, look at that! I believe he is happy to see me!” Nicolas opened the stall and stepped in. He ran his hands over the quivering stallion. “He’s in good condition.”
John nodded. “Jeremy rode him every other day. Him and Anne kept the horses in shape.”
“Really?” Nicolas was pleasantly surprised by that news. “What about Sessa?”
“She’s broke real good now. Jeremy’s got her takin’ jumps like she was a hunter.” There was a note of pride in John’s voice.
Nicolas patted Fyrste. “I am glad to hear it, John.” He pointed at the new beams overhead, “Were we hit by a twister finally?”
John shook his head, his mouth a grim line. “Uh, no. We had some troubles.”
“Troubles? What particular sort of troubles?”
“Some of those in the Territory did not take kindly to havin’ a half-breed woman married to a white man. They let us know.”
Nicolas exited the stall and shut the door. “How?”
John pointed at the stable walls. Nicolas lifted the lantern. He could now see the blackened stones of the bottom half.
“They set it aflame, did they? Skitt!” He spat on the ground. “Is aught else amiss?”
“Jeremy and Anne, they only went to church the one Sunday because of it.”
Nicolas wagged his head and spat again. He handed John the lantern and climbed up to inspect the new construction. It was correctly d
esigned and solidly built.
“Did Jeremy do this?” he called down to John.
“He did.”
Nicolas nodded his satisfaction. He climbed back down and sat on a hay bale. John sat on another. Nicolas poured brandy into the two glasses and handed one to John, then took a healthy swallow of the amber fire.
“I have been thinking.” Nicolas cleared his throat. “You and Addie have served the estate for a good long time. Longer than I have lived!”
John nodded and waited.
“I believe it’s time for you two to retire and enjoy what you have earned.” Nicolas looked hard at John. Under the drooped awnings of gray-fringed lids, his brown irises were ringed with clouds. Why didn’t he see that before? “I hope I might keep Jeremy and Anne here in your stead.”
John nodded again, and Nicolas waited.
Finally, “Yes.”
“Yes?” Nicolas prompted.
“Them two. Good choice.” John sipped his brandy. “Addie won’t go far. You know that.”
Nicolas snorted his agreement and offered John a refill. “I have been thinking about expanding the manor. Adding two rooms off the south wall along the kitchen.” Nicolas capped the flask. “A bedroom, and a parlor with two doors; one that opens to the back hallway, and one that goes directly outside.”
John’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”
“That way, the two of you might have your privacy, should you desire it.” Nicolas downed the last of his brandy. “What do you think?”
John smiled broadly for the first time since Nicolas returned to the estate. “I believe Addie will reckon she’s died and gone to Heaven.”
August 18, 1821
Nicolas waved Jeremy to a seat in his study and closed the door. He shifted his leather chair, and lowered himself into the creaking hide, facing the younger man.
“I had a talk with John last night. I asked him how you have fared here in the year.”
“I expected that.”
“I am pleased to report that he was favorable in his evaluation.”
Jeremy blushed and his mouth twitched. “Thank you. That’s good to hear.”