From her periphery she saw a movement and turned quickly to see Running Deer, stepping from the shadows. He appeared no worse for wear after his jaunt through yesterday afternoon’s storm.
“Good morning,” she said, practicing her English.
“Good morning to you.”
A nervous flutter filled Kristin’s insides as the Indian man came slowly forward, wearing a lopsided grin. What did he want this time? A cup of coffee?
Reaching for an empty cup, she held it out to him and pointed to the pot.
Running Deer shook his head and stepped even closer. The musky scent of his body reached her nostrils as he grabbed hold of her braided hair. She froze. Did she call for help? But Mrs. Sundberg said her brother wouldn’t harm her.
In spite of her best efforts to remain calm, Kristin’s chest rose and fell with mounting fear. When she saw him unsheathe his knife, terror gripped her. Would he slit her throat?
Kristin opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
Trepidation choked her. She closed her eyes, trembling.
She felt a tug on her scalp. Running Deer pulled and pulled.
“Stop! Stop it!”
Suddenly it was over. When she opened her eyes, the Indian man stood, smiling and holding six inches of braid in his tanned fist.
“You … you cut my hair!”
He pointed to the odd-looking halskjede—necklace, which rested against his bare chest. Long teeth, a bone, and several beads dangled from a leather string. It appeared he would now add Kristin’s braid.
“What’s going on in here?”
Kristin saw Sam and immediately ran to him. “He cut my hair, Sam. Look!” She showed him the portion now missing. With the end piece gone, her hair fell into kinky waves.
Sam’s arm went around Kristin’s waist, and she felt instantly protected in his embrace. He spoke to Running Deer in a restrained voice while Kristin collected herself.
Running Deer responded, and Kristin heard the laughter in his tone. He thought violating her in such a manner was funny? Mor always said no man should touch her hair until after she was married.
The conversation between Sam and Running Deer continued. Kristin heard the challenge in the Indian man’s voice now.
Sam glanced down at Kristin. Their gazes met. Then, all at once, Sam’s mouth captured hers in an unexpected but ever-sosweet assault. She closed her eyes. Then all too soon, he pulled his head back.
“Sam?” Her voice was but a whisper.
He faced Running Deer again, and this time the Indian man didn’t reply. He stood there eyeing first Sam, then Kristin, before hurling the piece of hair he’d severed at Sam’s feet. Next, he spun on his moccasin-clad heel and left the house.
Relief mixed with profound confusion stole over Kristin. “What just happened, Sam?”
“I told my uncle you were not interested in becoming his woman. He asked me again if there was an understanding between us—you and me. I told him that, yes, there is. That’s when I kissed you.” His eyebrows dipped in all seriousness. “Forgive me for being so forward.”
“Is there an understanding between us, Sam?” The words fell off her tongue before she could think better of asking the question.
“I want there to be.” His features relaxed. “I have been praying about courting you proper when I return from Madison. Would you … that is … would you allow me to court you?”
Kristin lowered her gaze but couldn’t keep a broad smile from forming. Looking back at Sam, all she could do was nod.
Releasing her, he stepped back. “Promise me you will pray about the matter, Kristin. I must be honest. My father is against a match between us.”
The truth stung. She looked away. “Then perhaps it is not meant to be.” A deep sadness saturated her being—much like what she’d felt when her family succumbed to the fever epidemic.
“That is what we need to discover through prayer. If a match between us is meant to be, we can proceed in the confidence Christ gives us, in spite of whoever is against us. Besides, the Lord is able to change Pa’s heart.”
“It seems daunting.” Kristin wasn’t certain she was up to such a task. She suddenly felt weary and discouraged.
Sam took her hand. “We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.”
She recognized the passage of Scripture. She believed it. “All right. I will commit this matter to prayer.”
The light in Sam’s eyes brightened. He bowed regally over her hand and placed a kiss on her fingers.
His actions brought another smile to her face. “May I pour you a cup of coffee, Sam?”
“Yes. Thank you.” He let go of her hand.
“And pour me one too.” Mr. Sundberg sauntered into the kitchen, pulling on his suspenders. He glanced from Sam to Kristin and back at Kristin, this time taking note of her loosely hanging hair.
She hurried to the stove. Suddenly it seemed she had to fear more from Mr. Sundberg than she ever did from Running Deer.
CHAPTER 14
THE END OF the month arrived, and at the first pinks of dawn, Sam knelt on his bedroom floor and packed his clothes and gear into two saddlebags. The last few days had gone by in an industrious blur, but he’d managed to bale most of the hay. Pa and Jack could see to the rest. Last night he and Kristin were invited to dinner at Luke and Rachel’s house. With Mary along, they were well chaperoned since the girl chattered on nearly nonstop.
A smile played on Sam’s lips as he recalled the outing. He felt like Kristin completed the half of him that he’d been missing.
The sound of Jack’s yawn brought Sam’s thoughts to the present. “Wish I could go with you.” Jack stretched. “I hate school.”
Sam grinned. “You’d better not hate school. Someday you’ll have to take my place in politics. You’ll be the one in Madison.”
“Where are you going to be?”
Sending his brother a glance, Sam lifted his shoulders. “Don’t know quite yet.”
Jack jumped from the top bunk. “Maybe you’ll be married to Kristin.”
“I wouldn’t mind it.” Sam chuckled, feeling his face redden with chagrin. “Now get dressed and do your chores so you can wash up for school.”
“Oh, all right.” Jack pulled on his trousers. “Pa went fishing. Maybe he’ll catch some trout for breakfast.”
“That’d make a tasty sendoff.” Sam broadened his grin while anticipation of his journey pumped through his veins with each heartbeat. He couldn’t wait to work alongside the Menominee chief, Oshkosh, and plead the Menominee Nation’s case to the government committee.
Once more Sam felt honored Pa decided to send him. Still, he hated to leave Kristin. He had lain awake most of the night with his thoughts, like a pendulum, swinging from her to his impending trip to Madison.
Kristin. Sam recalled her wide eyes and broad smile yesterday afternoon when Pa gave her the money for the fox furs he’d sold in town. The gift Running Deer had given Kristin had been worth even more than Pa estimated. When Ma asked what she thought she’d do with the money, Kristin began talking about someday owning a shop—a dress shop. Not the usual dress shop, but more of an accessories store. Crocheted collars, knitted shawls, felted wool, yarns, and threads …
As Kristin described her vision, Ma seemed to understand. Pa had waved an impatient hand at the ladies and headed toward the barn.
“You would be in high demand, I should think,” Ma had said.
“Ja, you think so, Mrs. Sundberg?”
“Hmm-hmm.” Ma nodded before peering at Sam and speaking in English. “I will have to keep this secret from Miss Betsy. She’d want to hire Kristin away from me.”
Sam had chuckled, noticing Kristin’s blue eyes flitting from him to Ma.
Moments later she lifted her pretty chin. “I will not work for Miss Betsy. I am happy here, at least for now.”
Sam had laughed while Ma lowered her dark gaze and pressed her lips together in an expression of chagrin. It appeared tha
t in the months Kristin had traveled from Norway to America, along with her weeks here in Brown County, she had learned to pick out enough English words to figure out the meanings of some conversations. Sam knew Kristin would master the English language as quickly as Pa had.
The conversation about a shop continued. Kristin, Ma, and Mary shared daydreams of operating a fancy store. Sam sat by, listening, and got a sense of Kristin’s ambitious nature as well as her hopes for the future.
“Almost finished, son?”
Sam peered over his shoulder to find Pa at the doorway.
Shaking off his musing, Sam stuffed the last of his belongings into the saddle bag. “Yes. All set.” He stood and hefted the heavy leather satchels over one shoulder.
Pa reopened a flap and inserted something. “I added three pouches of our finest tobacco. Give them to John for me. A thank-you gift.”
“Sure, Pa.”
“I’m proud of you, Sam.”
He smiled, knowing his father rarely doled out compliments. Pa had plans and goals of his own, and Sam was glad to be a part of them. Yet lately the Lord seemed to be making the point clear that Sam needed to search out his own path for the future—one in which God Himself would walk alongside him. Staking his own claim of land, farming it, marrying Kristin, and raising a family. Lately Sam couldn’t help but set his mind along those lines. Somehow whenever he thought and prayed about these dreams, a peace like he’d never known came over him.
“Ready to go?”
Sam inclined his head. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
Pa led the way out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen. Ma walked with them outside to the barn. Sam would pack up before eating breakfast.
“I packed dried beef and biscuits for the journey.” Ma said. “I also filled your canteen.”
“I appreciate that, Ma. Thanks.” Sam placed the food and water in one of the leather bags and then saddled his gelding.
“Chief Oshkosh and his men will meet you in Madison.” Pa went on to recount the plan.
“I got it, Pa.” They’d been over all these details before.
“And you’ll find John Evans’s home easily, I think.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“He’s expecting you by Saturday afternoon.”
“Plenty of time.” Sam planned to arrive in time to go to church on Sunday.
“The meeting at the capitol is on Monday—first thing in the morning.”
“I’m aware of it, Pa.” Sam finally turned to him. “Relax. I’ll be fine.”
The corners of Ma’s lips went upward in a gentle grin. “He’s right, Karl.” She threaded her arm around Pa’s elbow. “Sam is a capable man.”
“Of course he is.”
“But I think he should stay and eat a good breakfast first.”
“Naw, on second thought, I’ll just say my good-byes and go.” Sam suddenly saw no point in prolonging the inevitable.
Walking over to where Jack milked a cow, he tousled the boy’s hair. “Behave yourself. No more fights.”
Jack looked at him askance and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Turn the other cheek.”
Sam knew that wasn’t the easiest of the Lord’s commands. “And keep up on your studying.”
“I will.” Jack smiled. “Bye, Sam.”
Reins in hand, Sam led the gelding from the barn. Near the entryway, he glimpsed Pa’s grinning approval. It both pleased Sam and fueled his desire to continue with the Indian mediations his father began some time ago.
Now to bid farewell to Mary and Kristin. He tethered the horse in the shade and patted the animal’s neck. “I know Mary’s inside. Where’s Kristin?” His gaze wandered the yard.
His folks glanced at each other. “Forget about her, Sam,” Pa said.
He inhaled deeply. “We’ve been through all this.”
“No.” Pa stepped forward. “Your mother came fishing with me this morning. We were on the other side of the pond. We saw her with that younger Olstad fella.”
“Peder Olstad?” That didn’t make sense.
“That’s him.” Pa nodded. “She met him at sunup, on the sneak, and your Ma and I … well …” He looked at Ma, who lowered her gaze.
“Well … what?” Sam brought his chin back defensively.
Pa gave him a leveled look. “They embraced, Sam. Perhaps their meetings are habitual. Who knows what that girl does on her own time.”
“Oh, Karl, please!” Ma pulled her arm from his. “Such innuendo is—”
“Mariah, I told you I’d handle this.” His gaze slid to Ma. She pressed her lips together.
Pa squared his shoulders and looked back at Sam. “Kristin Eikaas is playing you for a fool.”
Sam gave a mild shake of his head. He didn’t believe it. And Ma’s pained expression said he shouldn’t believe it.
“Where’s she now?”
“In the orchard, I think,” Ma said with a demure dip of her head. “She mentioned to Mary that she planned to bake apples.”
“Just an excuse.” Pa scowled. “She really went to meet that Olstad boy.”
“We’ll see about that.” Sam walked around his horse, and Pa caught his arm.
“You’ve got important people waiting on you, son.”
“I realize that.” Tamping down his impatience, he stared hard at his father. “And I’m about to go talk to one of those important people now.”
Pulling his arm free, Sam set off for the orchard. But five strides later, Kristin rounded the corner of the house. She held up the hem of her white apron, which she’d filled with apples.
“God morgen, Sam.”
“In English, please.” He would miss teasing her while he was gone.
“Good morning.” Her tone sounded sassy at best, but then a more somber light entered her eyes. “I picked extra apples. Perhaps you would like to take a few with you to eat on your journey.”
“I would. Thanks.” Sam glanced over his shoulder at his folks. “May I have a word with you?”
“Oh, ja, sure.”
Kristin led the way into the house. In the kitchen, Mary stood at the table and rolled trout in flour.
“Almost ready for frying, Kristin.” Mary smiled at both her and Sam.
“Good.” Unloading her apron into a basket on the counter, Kristin barely had time to turn around when Sam cupped her elbow and led her to the sitting room.
“Hva er i veien—what is the matter?”
He suddenly didn’t know how to begin. She stared up at him in wide-eyed innocence.
“I like the way you are wearing your hair now.”
She patted the thick bun at her nape. “Your mother trimmed it evenly for me. I guess it is not so bad that Running Deer cut my hair.”
Sam took her hand. “Kristin,” he said, lowering his gaze, “I will come right out with it. My parents saw you with Peder Olstad at dawn.” He looked up. “Is that true?”
“Ja.” No look of guilt entered her gaze. She wet her lips and Sam felt the muscle in his jaw work. “I gave him the money from the furs.”
Sam leaned back and frowned. “Why?”
“Because …” Her gaze flitted around the room before settling back on him. “Peder wants to go to a place called California, but he has no money. A man from church will be leaving for there soon, and Peder wants to go with him.”
“Who? What man from church?”
“I do not know his name. Peder did not say. But he did tell me that he hated me for the way he is trapped at my uncle’s place, living in poverty. I felt God wanted me to help him out. Give Peder a good start … like the one I have been given because of your kindness.”
A certain light in her eyes let Sam know she wasn’t fibbing.
“Also, Peder said my uncle’s house was damaged in the storm on Sunday along with a side of the barn. I asked Peder to help with the repairs, using a little of the money I gave him.” Kristin wagged her head. “But I don’t think he will do that.”
“You are very gener
ous, especially since neither Olstad or your uncle deserves any kindness from you.”
“And I agree. I really did not want to help my uncle—or Peder. But Sam”—she pulled her hand from his—“I did it for my cousins. They are only children. And I did it for my best friend, Sylvia. What would she think of me if she learned that I had money and didn’t help her brother and father? What would she say if she discovered that I live in a nice home, protected from the rain and wind, while Peder and Mr. Olstad live in a smelly barn? Sylvia would be so disappointed in me.”
“I understand.” Sam honestly did too—or at least he was convinced of part of her reasoning. “Kristin …” He covered her hands with his. “Ma and Pa saw you and Peder … embracing.”
“It is true.” Her gaze hardened, her eyes the color of Lake Michigan during the wintertime. “Peder was so happy I gave him money that he hugged me.”
Staring into her Kristin’s face, Sam found no reason to doubt her.
“Do your parents still assume Peder is my forloveden?”
“Perhaps.” He didn’t know how else to describe his father’s unflattering speculations without wounding her.
“Maybe that is why he does not approve of me. He thinks I made a promise to Peder. But it is not so.”
“I know.” Sam felt a rush of relief. “Pa will come around. Give him a chance, all right?”
“All right.” Her eyes looked suddenly misty. “I will miss you, Sam. I did not know how much until right now. Ever since I arrived here, you have been my … helten.”
Her hero. Sam smiled, feeling like maybe he didn’t want to go after all.
Except he knew he had to.
Standing on tiptoe, Kristin put her hands on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “Hurry back.”
A powerful urge to take her in his arms and kiss that pretty pink mouth again—and really kiss her this time—gripped him. It took every shred of willpower not to give into it. “I will,” he eked out. “I will hurry back.”
“Kristin.” Mary’s voice sailed in from the kitchen. “The fish are ready and I cored the apples for baking. But what goes inside of them?”
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