by Amanda Boone
“I didn’t come here for that,” she admitted. “I didn’t even know I was going to tell you that I love you. But I do, Jared, with every ounce of myself.”
“And I love you just as much,” he proclaimed. “Don’t you ever leave me, or I don’t know how I’ll go on.”
“That reminds me. I want you to go with me to see Dr. Frey and find out what he thinks about Gunther’s injury. I need to know if he’ll survive, so I can have Moya notify his kin.”
Chapter 16
“Hi, Doc,” Jared said as he opened the doctor’s office door for Bridget.
The physician looked up from his desk and smiled. “You two look like newlyweds.”
Bridget’s face heated again. She could only hope that the doctor didn’t mean that he could tell that they’d had intercourse a while ago.
“What brings you two here?” Dr. Frey asked.
Bridget didn’t think she could open her mouth to explain because of her embarrassment, and thankfully, she didn’t have to. Jared took over for her.
“My wife and I need to know what happened to Gunther—her for the newspaper, but me out of concern. There have been too many accidents in the last few months for it to warrant being a coincidence. First, it was my good friend Moya who suffered a near-fatal injury. Then it was Rollie. Now Gunther has lost his arm.”
Dr. Frey frowned. “I don’t know if Gunther will make it. I gave him some of my blood, but …”
Startled by the statement, Bridget asked, “You gave him some of your blood? How can you do that?”
“It’s called a blood transfusion. I took a few syringes filled with my blood and put them into his arm. I’ve heard it will work, but I’ve never tried something like that before. And I’m certainly not sure I gave him enough blood. He lost an awful lot.”
“Has he regained consciousness?” Jared asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“This man he was working with when the accident happened,” Bridget inserted, “this Lars Olson.”
“Lars Olson?” Jared repeated in shock. “He was working with Gunther?”
“Is that important?” Bridget asked.
“It’s absolutely important. He’s the one who found both Moya and Rollie. Now he was working with Gunther.”
“You have a point, Jared,” Dr. Frey said. “All of those incidents could be connected. And before Moya was injured, there was another accident—one involving a prostitute. Guess who found her beaten in an alley.”
Bridget and Jared looked at each other and chorused, “Lars Olson.”
“Who is this Lars Olson, anyway?” Bridget asked. “His name sounds familiar, but I don’t know why.”
“He courted Elise in Illinois,” Jared explained. “He’s the reason she came here. He asked her to because he wanted to marry her.”
“That’s how I know the name. She wrote of him in her letters.” She paused, hesitant to voice the next sentence. “He brought her here to marry him? But she fell in love with Moya and married him instead. Then Moya received an injury about which he can remember no details. And Dr. Frey, you found his injury to be something other than an accident.”
“I’ve been suspicious of that from the moment I cleaned the wound,” the physician admitted. “I even asked him who did it to him. To this day, he insists it was an accident, but I think he was attacked. I also think Rollie was attacked. Unfortunately, I’m not sure about Gunther.”
“I’m not, either,” Bridget agreed. “But I have my suspicions. Dr. Frey, Lars told me that he turned around and saw Gunther with his arm under the wheel. But another logger told me that one man guides the horse team from the right front while the other man does so from the left rear of the team. If that were the case, Lars couldn’t have turned around and seen him.”
“It’s time to go to the sheriff,” Dr. Frey declared. “That prostitute, Moya, Rollie and now Gunther. Something’s going on in this town, and I think he needs to be informed.”
Jared shook his head, saying, “I doubt it will do any good. The sheriff is on Harris’ payroll. He’s not going to investigate these things. I either know these people personally or know of their character. Any one of them wouldn’t hesitate to find somebody to tell the truth to, just as I wouldn’t. From everything Bridget and her brother have told me, this town has a real corruption problem. We need to bring in somebody we trust to handle what’s happening around here.”
“And I,” Bridget said emphatically, “think Lars Olson is behind everything, but I also think he’s working for Harris. And Harris is in town right now. He came with a new contract for William Wessel, which doubles Mr. Wessel’s profits. I believe that could be called hush money. We must get to the bottom of this.”
“You, my dear,” Jared announced, “will stay out of it. Mike and I can handle this.”
THE END
Stina and the Decision
A Mail Order Bride Western
Book 3
(Can be read as a standalone book)
By: D.D. Boone
Stina and the Decision
Prologue
“I know what you did, Lars,” Stina Bengtson told Lars Olson. “I heard Elise and Moya talking about it.”
“You know nothing,” he replied.
“I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, but if they ever decide to tell Sheriff Douglas, I can testify at trial.”
“Your English,” he said, “is awfully good when you want to bribe somebody.”
Stina smiled. She was proud of the fact that she knew a great deal of English. Swedish was her native language, but Elise Anderson Sten had taught her well in Bishop Hill. Granted, she still had an accent, but she pronounced most of the words properly. That didn’t concern her conversation with Lars, though, and he was just stalling.
“It’s not a bribe,” Stina said. “It’s blackmail. And I’m not doing either. I’m just warning you about what I know.”
“You would choose their side of the story over mine.”
“I don’t know your side, and it doesn’t matter. I only need to know what I heard.”
Lars stalked out of the washhouse he’d helped other men in the town build for Stina so she wouldn’t have to go from one house to another for her job. The blond for whom she’d left Bishop Hill, Illinois, was furious with her, but she didn’t care. He would eventually come to realize that she’d only told him for his protection.
When Elise had received the letter from Lars to come to Forestville, Stina had basically invited herself to join Elise on the trip. She’d been interested in Lars for months before he left, but he’d been courting Elise. Maybe, she’d thought, Elise would find a different man, and she could have Lars. Then again, maybe she could find a better man of her own than the one who had been courting her in Bishop Hill.
That man, whose name she refused to even think, had ruined her faith in all men, except Lars. Lars had always treated Elise with respect, and Stina had loved watching them court.
With a sigh, Stina took some hot water from the stove and poured it into the washtub. She needed to get back to work. Actually, she didn’t mind the work nearly as much as she’d thought she would. If she was having a bad day or was angry about something, she could scrub the heck out of the denim material the men wore for work, and it was almost always men who used her services.
She’d met many nice men in town, but none of them came up to her expectations—only Lars. But then again, she’d wanted to be with him for a long time, she could be a biased because she had loved Lars from afar for so long.
Then a new man came to town.
Chapter 1
Exhaustion overwhelmed Stina as she opened the door to the home she shared with her sister Karin and Elise Johnson. Elise was getting married soon, though, and then it would be just the sisters.
She opened the door and strode into the house. Across the room, a redheaded woman glanced at Elise.
“Hi, Stina,” Elise said. “How was work today?”
“Tiring,” Sti
na replied, her gaze going from the flame-haired woman to the red-haired man. “I guess you’re Bridget, but I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”
Rising, he took three long steps to stand before her. “Michael O’Riley. And you are?”
“Stina Bengtson,” she replied with a shy smile.
“I’m please to meet you, Miss Bengtson.” He took her hand, bent over as he lifted it, and pressed his lips against her dry, cracked hand.
His soft lips against her rough skin caused her to wonder how he could possibly want to do that. All the lye in the soaps she used had taken its toll on her skin to the point that even she didn’t like to touch it. Thankfully, his gentle kiss lasted only a moment before he released her and stood erect.
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” Bridget said. “You live here with Elise, right?”
“Ja,” Stina replied, ready to get away from everybody, “and I should go clean up and change for dinner. I saw Karin headed this way with Jared and Emily, Elise. They should be here soon.”
And Stina escaped into her room. She was so embarrassed by her appearance she could scarcely bear being in everybody’s company. Coming home from work with Moya there was bad enough, but in front of company, she felt as though she was a street urchin breaking into the house.
Staring into the mirror, she shook her head. Her light blonde hair was coming from her chignon; her dress, although damp on the skirt, was covered with dirt from the men’s work clothes. She was more embarrassed than she’d ever been.
As she took off her dress to change her clothes, she thought about how nice Michael O’Riley seemed. He was quite attractive with that red wavy hair and those bright green eyes. In fact, she’d never seen such green eyes. And Michael was tall, shorter than Moya but taller than Lars.
Pulling the pins from her hair, she released her chignon and let her nearly waist-length hair cascade down her back. After putting on a clean dress, she picked up her brush and ran it through her hair until all of the snarls were out of it.
She washed her face off with the warm water Elise put in her room every night just before she got home. Had she ever told Elise how much she appreciated that? If not, she should.
After drying her face on the nearby towel, she studied herself in her mirror. At least, she looked presentable now. Turning to leave the room, she hesitated.
Michael O’Riley seemed like a very nice man, and he actually appeared to be a bit interested in her. If she could get him to court her, maybe Lars would want her, just like he had wanted Elise more once Moya had started courting her.
With a thought, she returned to her mirror and took her rouge from the dresser beneath it. She applied just a little bit of color to her cheeks and lips. Then her gaze fell on a larger jar on the dresser. Picking it up, she opened it. She hadn’t used this mixture for several weeks, but it might be time to begin using the concoction again. Glad that she still had a little left, she dipped her fingers in to the lotion and worked it into her hands. They started to feel better already.
Finally, she put the lid back on the jar and left the room. By now everyone had assembled in the sitting area. Almost the moment she joined them, Mike scrambled to his feet. Elise announced that they were just waiting for the biscuits to be done and dinner would be ready. Then Elise and Karin went to set the long table they had borrowed from Jared’s house.
“Here, Miss Benson,” Mike said extending his arm toward the Victorian chair he’d abandoned, “you take my chair.”
“Thank you,” she replied, sitting down before he sat on the arm of the chair, “but my last name is Bengtson.”
“I’m sorry. So is your real name Christina?”
“No, it’s Stina. I didn’t want to change it when I came here from Sweden. Why don’t you just call me that?”
“Thank you, I will. But now you must call me Mike.”
“I’ll be happy to, Mike. What brought you to Forestville?”
Mike explained that he wanted to open a newspaper office, that for many years it had been his dream to be a journalist, even though he had been a banker in New York. So he had decided to take the opportunity to join his sister Bridget on the journey to keep her safe and keep her company during the long trip.
“What brought you into the house looking like something the cat dragged in?” Mike asked cheerfully at the end of his explanation.
“I own and operate the washhouse,” she replied.
“I must say, you turned from a street urchin into a lovely, young lady in only a few minutes,” Mike praised.
“Dinner’s ready,” Elise called to everyone. “Come and get it.”
At the table, Mike held Stina’s chair and pushed it under her as she sat down. She was a bit embarrassed by his manners, especially considering the other men didn’t do the same. Bridget and Jared conversed quietly across the table from her, and Karin, who sat between Jared and Emily, watched with a loving smile as Emily chatted in Swedish with Moya at the end of the table. Elise sat at the opposite end of the table, and Mike sat down next to Stina.
Stina ate in silence until Karin, who still used some Swedish pronunciation, began a conversation with her. “Tell me, Stina. I heard you correct Mike on how to say your last name. Vy don’t you yust change to Benson like I did?”
“Because,” Stina said, struggling to control her irritation so Mike didn’t see it, “my name isn’t even Bengtson. It’s Klausdotter. I never wanted to change it. Papa made me.”
“It wasn’t Papa, Stina, and you know it. The immigration people said we had to do it.”
“Papa let them, Karin.”
“It doesn’t sound like you wanted to move to America,” Mike observed. “You must have loved it in Sweden.”
“I had very good friends there,” Stina replied. “I never wanted to leave, but our parents made us.”
“I was thrilled to come to America. I was sure my life would change for the better.”
“Did it?”
“It absolutely did,” Mike said. “I’ve earned enough money to do what I love, and I’m on my way to making it happen. Why don’t you tell me what you like about Sweden?”
By the time Mike left that night, Stina knew without a doubt that he was interested in her. They had chatted for two hours after dinner was done—until Stina insisted that she had to get some sleep so she would be able to work in the morning. Only then did Mike lightly kiss the back of her hand and say good night.
Chapter 2
The next morning, Stina recalled the previous evening. Mike had been the perfect gentleman, holding her chair, opening the door when they decided to talk on the porch, linking her arm in his as they took a walk for a while. He even left as soon as she said that it was probably time for her to go to bed.
Would she see him that day? She hoped so, but she couldn’t be sure. He knew where she worked, but he didn’t know where the washhouse was. Of course, he could easily find it, considering almost every man in town had his laundry done there.
She found herself hoping that he would seek her out and take her mind off her work for a while that day. He could talk to her while she hung up the laundry, or maybe he would offer to take some of the drudgery off her hands and scrub some of the filthy dungarees on the washboard. That would be one of the nicest things he could do for her.
“What are you thinking about this morning?” a man asked from nearby.
Stina looked over at the blond man falling into step beside her. “Good morning, Lars. How are you today?”
“I’m fine,” Lars replied, “but you seem like you’re in another city. Do you have something important on your mind?”
“Not really. I was just thinking about dinner last night. Elise’s friends got here from New York City, and we had them over so Jared and Bridget could get to know each other in a casual setting. Elise didn’t want them just thrown together in marriage. She wanted them to be comfortable.”
“Is that the bride she wrote to for Jared?”
“Ja. Elise’s pl
an seemed to work, too. They didn’t have any trouble talking together.”
“You didn’t seem to have any trouble talking last night, either,” he said accusingly.
Stina shot her startled glance to his face. His blue eyes were narrowed in irritation—or anger. She wasn’t sure which it was. The expression on his face was one she’d never seen before, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to see it again.
Finally, she managed to force out a response. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the redhead you were walking with last night. I saw you two chatting away, looking at each other like you were star-crossed lovers.”
“Don’t be silly, Lars,” Stina replied. “That’s Bridget’s brother. I was just keeping him company while Bridget and Jared were getting to know each other.”
Stina had no idea why she’d told Lars that. She knew it was a lie, but she didn’t want him to know that she found Mike quite so charming. On second thought, maybe she did know why. If Lars thought that another man was pursuing her, maybe he would do the same, and she could win him over. If he thought he had competition, he might just ask to be her suitor, which is what she’d wanted ever since Elise had introduced her to him.
“You’d better be careful around him,” Lars warned. “I saw the look in his eyes. I think he wants to bed you. In fact, there’s not a doubt in my mind. If you gave him just a little bit of encouragement, he would do it.”
Stina sighed and shook her head. “You’re being ridiculous, Lars. Mike was a complete gentleman. In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever met a man who has manners like his.”
“Well, you need to stay away from him.”
Unable to resist, she laughed. “Lars, you’re just jealous. Mike is nothing more than a new friend, and I have no intention of staying away from him if we happen to run into each other and want to chat.”
“You’d better,” he warned ominously as he strode away from her.