by Amanda Boone
Was that a threat? Stina thought with an involuntary shiver. Or was it just a jealous man expressing that she was his? Either way, she didn’t like the tone in his voice, and she liked the look in his eyes even less.
Both concerned her, given what he had done to Moya. Would Lars hurt her? Surely not. Although, there was that time when she saw him come out of a dark alley after she got finished with her late one night. The next morning a prostitute had been found beaten into unconsciousness in that same alley. Had Lars done that? Would he really hurt a woman?
No, she couldn’t believe he would do such a thing. He’d never even indicated in Bishop Hill that he would. That had to have been a coincidence.
Taking the key to the washhouse from her pocket, Stina opened the door. She was mad that Lars had told her what she should do, and she would take her anger out on the dungarees she needed to wash that day.
***
Nearly two weeks passed before Stina saw Mike again, this time at the weddings of Elise to Moya and Bridget to Jared. They stood side by side, watching the ceremony in silence. On the other side of Stina, Karin struggled to keep Emily, who was thrilled to have a new mommy, under control. The child was so excited that she wanted to be right in the middle of everything.
Stina smiled at Emily. The dark-haired imp, as she was being then, had never had a mother. In fact, according to Karin, who worked for Jared, poor Emily’s mother had never even held her.
If she ever had children, Stina thought as the two couples exchanged their vows, she would dote on them. If she discovered she was dying during childbirth, she would demand to have the baby placed on her chest so she could feel it.
Shaking the notion from her head, she tried to focus on the ceremony. She shouldn’t be thinking about that, anyway. She wasn’t married, or even pregnant, thank goodness, after her time with Nels Osterberg in Bishop Hill.
What would Lars think if he knew that she’d been with Nels? Would he still be jealous of Mike? On second thought, Mike was such a gentleman that he would probably not want anything more to do with her. Of course, he had already backed away from her after that one evening. He’d probably already decided that she was too young for him. She absently wondered how old he was.
“By the power of God, I now pronounce you husbands and wives. You may kiss your brides.”
Suddenly back to reality, Stina watched as Moya swept Elise into his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. Jared, however, kissed Bridget on the lips quickly, without embracing her.
Stina thought that was odd, but she reasoned, it was an arranged marriage. Jared was probably reluctant to hug Bridget in public.
An arm draped around her shoulder, and Stina looked over to the hand handing over her left shoulder. She turned her gaze to Mike’s smiling face.
“I love a good wedding,” he said. “What about you?”
“I’m afraid my mind was wandering,” she admitted.
“I told Bridget that, after the ceremony, I would take them over to the newspaper office, which is in the process of being built. Would you like to join us?”
Stina couldn’t believe she was saying this, because she truly wanted to join them. “I’m afraid I can’t. I didn’t get my work done yesterday, and I have some clothes to finish ironing.”
“I understand,” he replied, removing his arm. “When will you be done? I could come by and walk you over to the office to show it to you later.”
“I would like that,” she said, “but I’m not sure when I’ll get done. Besides, you don’t even know where the washhouse is.”
“Of course, I do. I’ve watched you working several times, but you always seem so involved in what you’re doing that I haven’t wanted to bother you.”
Stunned, Stina stared up at him. He had been there? He had watched her? She’d had no idea because she always got deep into her thoughts while she worked.
“And if you’re interested,” Mike said, interrupting her thoughts, “we could have dinner at the hotel restaurant afterward.”
She gave him a quick smile then said, “You saw what I look like when I’m done working. I would be a mess to eat at a restaurant.”
“Ah, but I listened to you. You’re just ironing. You should look just fine.”
An elbow in her ribs caused Stina to turn toward her sister. Karin urged her on. “Go with him.”
“See?” Mike said, drawing Stina’s attention back to him. “Even Karin thinks you should agree.”
“All right,” Stina finally agreed. “I suppose it will take me about three hours to finish my work.”
“Very good. I’ll come to the washhouse in about three hours to get you.” Mike turned away from her and toward his sister. “Are you ready, Bridget Coleman?”
Stina watched without a word as Mike, Bridget and Jared left the church. As badly as Stina wanted to go with them, she did have work to finish from the previous week; she hadn’t just used it as an excuse. She hugged Elise and wished her and Moya the best in Swedish then headed over to the washhouse.
Chapter 3
“This is my office, as editor of the paper,” Mike enthused as he escorted Stina into the wall-less room. “Across the hall is the telegraph office. Moya will be leaving before too long to go learn how to work a telegraph machine.”
Taking her hand, he led her into the large, open room.
“See those boards laid out in a rectangle? Those show where the printing press will be. Someday I’m hoping to make enough money to buy a second one. That way Bridget can be setting two pages at a time. I’m really excited about how quickly it’s coming along.”
“I can tell,” Stina replied. “It’s not happening as fast as when the put up the washhouse, but the men knew how much quicker I could work if I had it. I even have a room in the back where I can hang clothes when it’s raining. They thought of everything—four washtubs, two for washing and two for rinsing; two stoves so I can always have water heated, and four irons so at least one is always ready. The only thing they didn’t think of were the washboards. They even had lots of lye soap and starch.”
“It sounds like you love what you do.”
“I wouldn’t say love, but I do like it a lot more than I thought I would when I came up with the idea.”
“I haven’t worked in the newspaper business before, but I’ve always written,” Mike said. “I loved reporting what’s going on around me, even as a child. This is what I’ve always wanted, and I’ve finally gotten it thanks to Frank Harris.”
“Frank Harris?” Stina repeated.
After what he’d tried to do to her, having the washhouse built and paying for everything, she was nervous for Mike. Frank Harris had wanted her to hand over a little over half her earnings for him to do all of that. When she’d balked at the notion, when she’d told him that she would rather go house to house than be beholden to someone, he’d backed out on the deal. The men in town, though, hadn’t hesitated to give her the building and its contents. They’d pooled their money and done the work in a week, and she kept all of the earnings.
She was curious as to how much Frank Harris was involved in the newspaper, but she couldn’t ask Mike about it. She didn’t know him well enough.
“Stina?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
“Ja,” she replied. “I was just thinking. Do you know how long it’s going to take to build your newspaper?”
“No. They’re only working on it when they can. I’m hoping for another couple of weeks to a month, but that’s because I’ll be doing some of the work myself. Now that the skeleton of the building is up, I can put up walls.”
“Skeleton?” Stina asked. “I don’t understand.”
Mike seemed taken aback. “You don’t know what a skeleton is? I’m sorry. You have so little of an accent that I barely notice it. A skeleton is the bones of the body. A skeleton of a building is the wood like you see here.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go have something to eat.
I’m getting hungry. After that, I’ll walk you home.”
When she agreed, he took her hand and laid it on his forearm to escort her from the building. In that way, they walked to the hotel, where he opened the door for her and led her to the restaurant.
“Good evening, Mr. O’Riley,” the owner, Olaf Johnson, greeted as they entered the dining room. He nodded toward Stina. “Miss Bengtson.”
“Evening, Mr. Johnson,” Stina said. “How are you tonight?”
“I’m well. Do you have time this week to wash bedding for the hotel? Our wash lady has been sick, and we’re behind.”
“Of course. Just bring them in tomorrow morning, and I’ll get right on it.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Johnson said. “Are you here for dinner with Mr. O’Riley?”
“She kindly agreed to dine with me,” Mike said. “Could we have a secluded table for two where we can talk without disturbance?”
With a wink, Mr. Johnson smiled at Stina. “Absolutely. This young lady works too hard. She needs a little time for courtship.”
Courtship? Stina thought in surprise. One meal didn’t exactly mean a courtship. It meant they were eating together.
Once seated at a table, Stina collapsed against the chair back. She was exhausted. It had been a long week, and she’d even had to work that day. Now that it was time to relax, she felt the tiredness spread throughout her body, almost as though the floodgate had been opened. Her arms and legs felt like they had ten-pound weights on the ends of them, and she wondered if she would even be able to lift the small menu Mr. Johnson placed before her.
“You suddenly look as if you should be home in bed,” Mike observed aloud. “When we were at the newspaper office, you seemed relaxed, but now you look exhausted.”
“I am exhausted,” she admitted. “I’m almost afraid you’ll have to carry me home instead of walk me home.”
“Do you always work so hard?”
“Usually, but I don’t normally work on Sundays. I take that day off every week. Unfortunately, I had some extra work this week.”
“You should hire somebody to work for you. That way you would have help, as well as somebody to talk to while you’re working.”
“I don’t know who it would be. I haven’t had time to meet anybody in town. I’ve been working since I moved here.”
“Don’t worry,” Mike said. “Once the paper is up and running, I’ll print an article about you and your business, and I’ll let everybody know how busy you are. Then I’ll mention that you could use an employee. Somebody will probably offer to work for you.”
“That would be nice, but I won’t count on it. We’ll see what happens if you do print an article.”
At that point, a young lady who Mike addressed as Sarah came to the table and took their order. From there, their conversation drifted to the local weather and other trivial things.
Once Stina glanced out the window and saw Lars standing there looking into the restaurant. His expression was one of irritation, but Stina was too tired to care. If he didn’t like her seeing another man, he needed to ask to be her suitor. That’s all it would take for her to stay away from Mike, as Lars wanted her to do.
After their meal, Mike walked her home, but Stina kept an eye out for Lars. She didn’t like that he had spied on her at the restaurant, and she was afraid that he would follow her everywhere now. That bothered her a lot because she didn’t know what Lars might do after his run-in with Moya.
Chapter 4
Two days later, Lars appeared at the washhouse. Stina was still busy with bedding from the hotel, by now ironing it to make it presentable for guests.
She put an iron on the cast iron cover of the stove and picked up a hot one as she greeted Lars.
“What can I do for you, Lars?” she asked.
“You can stay away from Mike O’Riley. He’s the owner of the newspaper. He’s probably only sniffing around you to see if he can get information on what happened to Moya.”
His telling her what to do annoyed her, and she pushed the iron across the sheet with enough force to move the material and put another wrinkle in it. “Darn it!”
After dipping her fingers into a nearby bowl of water, she splashed some water on the wrinkle and worked the iron over it more slowly.
“What do you want from me, Lars?” she asked, irritated by his presence. “I saw him at Elise’s wedding, and he asked me to join him for dinner. I was being nice to a new person in town. It was as simple as that.”
“If you’re so enamored with him …”
“What’s enamored?”
“You like him.”
“Not like you mean,” she declared. “Yes, I like him. I think he’s a nice man, but that’s it.”
“Only because you want me,” Lars shot back. “You have since Elise introduced us. I could always tell by the way you looked at me. You still have that look in your eyes.”
More furious with herself for not hiding her interest better than she was with him for knowing, she slammed the flat iron onto the cast iron stove. The loud clang reverberated through the building.
“If you only came here to tell me what to do, you can leave right now.”
“Not until I’ve had my say.”
“You’ve said enough!” she shouted. “Now get out.”
“I won’t leave until …”
She grabbed a hot iron and shook at him. “You’ll leave now—before I trow dis across the room at you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I vould,” she declared as she pulled her arm back. “And you know I’m a good pitcher.”
“All right,” he said, backing up to the door. “But this conversation isn’t over.”
“Ja, it is. Go!”
Lars sprinted from the building, leaving the door open behind him.
“Jag ska berätta vad jag vet, din jävel,” she said in her native language as she returned to her ironing.
“What does that mean?” Mike asked.
I should tell what I know, you bastard, Stina thought. But aloud she said, “It was nothing. I was just ranting.”
“Well, remind me never to make you mad at me,” he said with a grin, “because I wouldn’t be able to understand what you tell me. For all I know, you could be cussing me out.”
Returning to her work, Stina asked, “How long have you been there?”
“Not long enough to know what you were arguing about, but long enough to know that your accent gets stronger the angrier you get.”
“That’s because I don’t pay attention to how I pronounce things when I’m angry.”
“Mind if I sit and wait for you to finish the bedding? I told Johnson that I would bring it back for him while I was out.”
Stina told him to make himself comfortable, and he explained that he had been kicked out of the newspaper office because the workers came and decided he was doing the walls all wrong. Since he had nothing to do, he had decided to run this errand for the hotel and restaurant owner.
With Mike there chatting about how he wasn’t at all sure that the owner was actually that, Stina’s work went faster. She listened to him tell her how he wondered if the owner of the town actually owned the hotel and restaurant. Occasionally, Stina contributed to the conversation, but mostly Mike just had a conversation with himself.
From everything she’d seen, he and Bridget were both talkers, and she absently wondered how they ever carried on a conversation with each other. Were his parents both talkers, too?
With the bedding finished, she handed the bundle of linens to Mike and thanked him for being there. Now she didn’t have to feel guilty if she didn’t deliver them when Mr. Johnson didn’t pick them up.
The next day, Mike returned and waited in line while Stina tagged pillow cases of laundry so she would know which bag belonged to whom. When he got to her small counter, he set his own pillow case on it.
“Good morning, Miss Benson,” he said with a smile. “Do you have time for a new customer?”
“It’s Bengtson,” she corrected.
With a mischievous grin, he winked at her. “I know it’s Bengtson. I was just giving you a hard time. Seriously, though, do you have time to do my laundry?”
“Of course. Do you need it soon?”
“No. I’m going to buy some of those dungarees the lumberjacks wear and probably a couple of those plaid shirts. They look comfortable. I’ll have clothes for a few days.”
“Then come back Saturday, and they should be ready.”
“In time for the barn dance?” he asked with a note of hope in his voice.
“Plenty of time.”
“Are you going to the dance?”
Stina stared up at him. Was he asking her to join him? Or was he just making conversation. Unsure how to answer, she gave her standard reply when a man asked her to a dance. “I don’t know. I usually go to bed early, but sometimes I go to the dances. It all depends on how tired I am.”
His tone turned downhearted. “Oh. Well, I hope to see you there. I’d better go buy some clothes. Don’t work too hard.”
And with those words, he left the building.
Not knowing what to say, she thanked him for his business and stared at his back as she walked out the door. If he had asked her to the dance, she probably would have said yes, but he hadn’t. He’d simply indicated that he would see her. Did he just want to be friends, or did he want something more? She couldn’t tell.
Chapter 5
To Stina’s delight, Lars asked her to go with him to the barn dance. At first she agreed, but Friday she began feeling ill. By Saturday morning, she had a fever; and when Lars called for her, she had confined herself to bed. She had no desire to leave the house, let alone go dancing. She suggested that Lars take Karin in her stead, but he declined, saying that Karin was too young for him.
Elise had moved into Moya’s home, so Stina stayed in her room to keep Karin from getting whatever ailment she had. She certainly didn’t want to pass it onto little Emily through her sister. So, alone in her room and shivering, Stina huddled under her blankets.