by Amanda Boone
Lars was angry when she told him that she wasn’t going to the dance, but she couldn’t have cared less. Let him be angry. If he couldn’t understand when a woman was sick, she didn’t want him, nor did she need him around her. Let him go find another woman to dance with, maybe even a prostitute to bed. Right now, she was too sick to care about anything.
The next thing Stina knew, Karin woke her gently.
“Stina? You have a visitor.”
“Tell Lars I don’t want to go to the dance,” Stina mumbled, still mostly asleep.
“The dance is over,” Karin said. “And it isn’t Lars. It’s Mike.”
“I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“He knows you’re sick. He just wants to check on you and see if there’s anything he can do for you.”
“Would you tell him that’s very kind, but I’ll be fine?”
“I was worried about you, Stina,” he said from the doorway. “I could tell that you were sick when I picked up my clothes today. I wasn’t even surprised when you didn’t come to the barn dance. In fact, that’s why I didn’t even bother to ask if you would be there.”
Gazing over at him, she motioned for Karin to leave and told Mike, “That’s very kind of you, but I wouldn’t come any farther into the room if I were you. You don’t want my illness. Trust me.”
“I won’t. I just wanted to check and see how you were doing. Do you think you’ll feel better by Monday?”
“I have no idea.”
“Then you stay home either way. I can do laundry until you’re on your feet. I’ll take the key with me, and you won’t have to worry about a thing.”
Too weak to argue, she said, “Karin will give you the key. Thank you, Mike. I really appreciate this.”
“It’s not a problem. I don’t have a job quite yet, anyway. You just rest and get healthy again.”
Mike left the doorway, leaving Stina with her thoughts of how kind he was, how much of a gentleman. He hadn’t complained when she said she didn’t want him in the room, and he hadn’t tried to talk her into something she didn’t want to do. Lars had done both of those things. But had Lars come after the dance to see how she was feeling? No. He cared about what he wanted more than anything else. At this moment, she didn’t like him very much, let alone love him. At this moment, though, she was too sick to make any decisions. In fact, she had just let Mike make them for her.
After three days she felt well enough to get out of bed for an hour or so at a time. When she hadn’t felt dizzy for a full day, she ventured out of the house to sit on the porch. Even when she was in bed, she could hear Mike’s voice as he checked to see how she was doing after Karin got home from work, but he never bothered her.
One evening she heard two men arguing and got out of bed to see what was happening. The closer she got to the closed front door, the more nervous she became. Lars was arguing with Mike. That couldn’t be good, but she couldn’t intervene, either, for fear of causing harm to Mike. No, she needed to let this be, to let them see their argument to its end. Unless Lars started a fight, she would stay out of it.
“You need to stay away from my woman,” Lars demanded.
“Your woman? Stina isn’t your anything. She’s a strong, independent woman who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Surely, she’s proven that to you.”
“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have, and I’m not going to let you walk into town and take her away from me.”
“I didn’t know that she was committed to you.” Mike’s voice was strong and resolved, not angry like Lars’ voice. “In fact, I didn’t know that she was committed to anybody.”
“Then you don’t know anything,” Lars declared irately. “You’ve known her for weeks, but I’ve known her for years. She’s lusted after me all that time, too, even though …”
“Even though what?” Mike asked when Lars’ voice trailed off.
“Never mind. Just get out of here. Karin’s not going to let either of us see her, anyway.”
“And if I don’t want to leave? What if I want to hear Karin tell me that I can’t see Stina?”
“I’ll tear you limb from limb,” Lars warned.
“I don’t think you could,” Mike replied calmly. “But I’ll leave for now because I don’t want to upset Stina. And I promise I’ll return whenever I want.”
A bit concerned about Lars’ threat of hurting Mike, Stina crept back to bed. Even though it felt nice to have two men want her again, she didn’t want to see either man get hurt. Back in Bishop Hill, two men had courted her, but she’d wanted neither man. Here in Forestville, she wouldn’t mind having either man. It would be nice to have Lars because he was the man she’d dreamed of for so many years, but Mike was a true gentleman who treated her like a lady, not a possession.
Settling back into bed, she considered her options. Would Lars have ever offered to take over her work for her? Probably not, but he did have a job of his own. Mike, on the other hand, didn’t have anything else to do. He had time to help her out while his office was being built.
Back in Bishop Hill, she’d seen and heard a lot about Lars’ conquests. Many of the girls had crushes on him, but she herself loved him. She had no doubt about that. Unfortunately, because he was courting her best friend Elise, she couldn’t pursue Lars. Now that Elise was married, though, she could. And she would as soon as she recovered from this illness.
Mike was almost the opposite of Lars. He was mild-mannered, where Lars was hot-tempered. She found this funny because she’d always heard that redheads had bad tempers. He was kind and caring, and her heart melted every time she looked into those gorgeous green eyes.
But Lars was jealous. There was no doubt about it. He didn’t argue with a lot of people, but he got angry when he thought someone else wanted a woman he wanted. She’d witnessed that both in Bishop Hill and here in Forestville. With the information she had, she could marry Lars, too. That was uncertain with Mike. He was a man who would take his time getting to know her, which she liked.
Somehow, some day, she would need to decide which man she wanted to spend her life with. For now, though, she would enjoy them both.
Chapter 6
While the newspaper office was being built, Mike would check in with Stina daily to see if she needed help. If she did, he would ask Bridget to help her because, as he claimed, he didn’t want Lars to get angry with Stina because he was there.
Stina couldn’t believe how well things were going. Apparently, Mike and Lars had come to an agreement.
The newspaper office opened to great fanfare. The people in town who were literate or could read English were on hand for the ribbon-cutting. Even some who were illiterate attended because they knew they could have someone tell them what was in the paper. According to Bridget, Mike even planned the event for a Sunday so Stina could attend.
After his brief speech about how they were there to serve the people of Forestville by giving them a voice and information, as well as giving them access to a telegraph machine, he cut the wide ribbon nailed across the door.
Cheers rose from the crowd as Mike and Bridget entered the building. Then Mike turned in the doorway and said, “Please. If anyone wants to see the newspaper office we built for them, come in.”
A few of the crowd entered the building, such as Elise, Moya, Jared, Emily and Karin, along with several others. Stina waited until no other person filed in and the crowd had dispersed before she entered.
After passing through a hallway about ten feet long with two openings, each leading to one of the two offices, Stina walked into a large open room with a brilliantly shining counter extending from one side of the inside to the other. Bridget, wearing a heavy black apron, stood by the printing press behind the counter. That must be what she wore when she was actually operating the press. One section of the counter was hinged and standing open to show where Bridget entered and exited the area.
“What do you think?” Mike asked from behind her.
“I’m impressed,” she replied, her chest swelling with pride at what he’d accomplished in such a relatively short period of time for his project.
Behind the counter, Bridget removed her apron and said, “Nobody else is coming in, Mike. I’m going home and start dinner. Should I make enough for you, too?”
He glanced down at Stina. “Will you join me for dinner at the restaurant again?”
Stina was hesitant. After Lars’ outburst the last time she ate in public with Mike, did she dare say yes? What the heck! This was a special day for Mike, and he probably wanted to celebrate with a friend for a little while.
“Sure,” she replied.
He looked back to Bridget and grinned. “No, thank you. I’m going to be busy tonight.”
Bridget chuckled as she passed them at the counter. “I’m not surprised. I’ll see you tomorrow, brother.” She glanced over at Stina with a grin. “Have a good evening, you two.”
“Turn over the closed sign on your way out,” Mike said, “and close the door.”
Bridget’s laugh flooded Stina’s ears just before she closed the office door.
Not knowing how to react now that they were completely alone, Stina wandered away from Mike as she slid her hand over the smooth counter surface.
“I can’t believe how beautiful this counter is,” she said, determined to keep her distance.
“The wood in this area is beautiful,” he agreed, “but not as beautiful as a certain woman I know.”
She’d left her hair long that day since she didn’t have to work, and now Mike slipped his fingers into it. Her locks were wavy and a baby-fine blonde, and by the way he caressed it, she could tell that he liked touching it. Oh, how she loved the way he ran his fingers gently over the waves down her back.
Mike grasped her shoulders tenderly and turned her to face him. “I want to thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me tonight.”
She stared up at him, unable to take her gaze from his green eyes. She loved the bright color of them; it was almost as thought she was looking at emeralds.
Then his hands slipped down her upper arms to her elbows and slid back up again. He repeated this motion several times before he linked his fingers behind her neck and rested his wrists on her shoulders. It was such a seductive move that she couldn’t resist reaching up and gently grasping his forearms. She trailed them up to his elbows. His forearms were more muscular that she would have thought now that she could feel them under his cotton shirt. He worked at banking in New York City; she knew that much. And he did a lot of writing about different things. What could he possibly do to firm up his arms so well?
“I’m glad you could come today,” Mike said, breaking the silence that Stina suddenly realized had lasted many seconds.
“I am, too,” she replied, unable to get the volume much higher than a whisper.
What was blocking her vocal cords, keeping her from speaking louder? Whatever it was had also caused something in her chest to constrict, making it almost impossible to breathe.
“I wanted you here more than anything,” he admitted as he leaned a little closer. “That’s why I scheduled it to happen on a Sunday. I know it’s the only day you don’t work.”
His breath was hot against her forehead as he lowered his head. If she weren’t so shy, she could just lean into him and kiss him. That’s really what she wanted right now—a kiss, not talk. She stared up at him, her gaze riveted to his full lips. Then she couldn’t see them anymore because they grazed her forehead. It was just a brush of a kiss, but Stina thought she would melt into a puddle right there in his office.
Suddenly, he broke away from her and said, “We should probably leave before I do something a gentleman shouldn’t.”
As disappointed as Stina was, she agreed. It was probably foolhardy to engage in more than this in an office where anybody could open the door and walk in. They should do this in private, where nobody could see them.
Chapter 7
Elise bought a copy of the first edition of the paper and read it to Moya and Stina after dinner at the couple’s house the next night. There wasn’t much in it, news from San Francisco and Sacramento and a local interest story—about Stina and her business, as well as her need for an assistant.
Mike hadn’t forgotten, Stina realized, even after nine weeks. He had said that he would print something, but she hadn’t believed he would do it in the first edition. Stina felt a tingle of joy that he would remember. Why? Was it just because he had followed up on his promise, unlike Lars had done on two occasions?
A knock at the door startled them, and Elise went to answer it. From her seat across the room, Stina could see that one of the saloon girl prostitutes stood on the doorstep.
“May I help you?” Elise asked.
“I went to the washhouse, but it was closed, of course,” the woman said. “I didn’t know where Stina Benson lived, but everybody knows where you live and that she came to Forestville with you. I’m looking for a job in her laundry.”
Startled that this had happened so soon, or even at all, Stina rose and went to the door.
“We’ll talk outside,” Stina told Elise as she left the house.
“Miss Benson,” the woman said, extending her hand toward Stina, “I’m Gloria Scott, and I would like to work for you.”
There it was again—Miss Benson. She was awfully tired of having to correct people on the pronunciation. Maybe she should just do what Karin did and let everybody call her that, even introduce herself as Stina Benson. She’d stubbornly held on to her Swedish roots for almost three years now. Maybe it was time to let go a little at a time and become more Americanized. She wanted to speak without an accent as much as possible. Why not use an Americanized name as well?
Deciding not to correct Gloria, Stina asked, “May I ask why you want to work for me?”
“I hate working in the saloon, and I thought maybe I could work for you most of the time. Then I could only work maybe a night or two at the saloon until I earn enough to get out of there. I would stop right away, but I have to pay for my room. They take it out of my earnings.”
“How did you hear about my opening?”
Gloria grimaced, as though she was embarrassed by her words. “I can’t read, but somebody in the saloon was reading his paper out loud, and I heard him read the article. Would you be willing to take a chance on me? Being a hooker is dangerous, and I have to give most of my money away, so I don’t actually earn very much.”
“How is it dangerous?” Stina asked curiously.
“I don’t know if you heard or not, but I was beaten a while back. It was bad, and I couldn’t work for about three weeks. The bastard broke my rib and my nose. I had two black eyes, so no man wanted to hire me.”
“I heard about that. I really felt sorry for you. Will your broken rib cause you pain if you work washing clothes? It’s not an easy job, you know. It’s very … Um, vat’s the vord? Fysiska.” Frustrated, Stina knocked on the side of her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Darn! Sometimes the English vord yust von’t come to me.”
“Do you mean physical?” Gloria asked.
“Ja! Det är det!” Stina felt her face heat as she blushed. Gloria probably didn’t understand a word she’d just said. “I’m sorry, Gloria. I try hard to remember to speak English, but sometimes I just forget—like when I’m frustrated, exhausted or angry. I said, Yes, that’s it.”
With a smile, Gloria replied, “I know. I’ve heard it many times from Swedish men who pay for my services. Anyway, I don’t think the physical part of the job will be a big problem. I’ve been healed for some time now, and I see no reason I can’t do the work.”
“I don’t know how much the job will pay yet,” Stina admitted. “I had no idea that Mike was going to publish the article so soon, and I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anything you can afford will be fine.”
“Then the job is yours,” Stina said. “Come to the washhouse tomorr
ow morning, and I’ll start training you.”
“Thank you, Miss Benson. You won’t regret taking a chance on me.”
“You’re welcome, Gloria,” she replied as the woman hurried away. “And call me Stina.”
Stina couldn’t wait to leave Elise’s house and find Mike so she could thank him. Immediately, she thanked Elise for dinner and reading the paper to them and left in search of Mike.
First she went to the restaurant to see if he was eating. He wasn’t there, and Mr. Anderson told her that he had left about an hour earlier without having eaten. Mr. Anderson assumed that Mike was going to have dinner with his sister. So Stina headed over to Jared Coleman’s house on the edge of town.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Stina thought nothing of it. It thundered here quite often, but that didn’t necessarily mean it would rain. Besides, she wanted to tell Mike how quickly she’d found an assistant. By the time she reached the Coleman residence, there were occasional drips from the sky, but nothing to take note of other than that they were there.
On the front porch, Stina knocked on the door and waited until Jared opened it.
“Stina!” he said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Stina’s here?” Mike shouted from somewhere inside.
His footsteps grew louder as he approached the door. He appeared in the doorway, asking, “Did you see the newspaper article about your business?”
“I did,” she replied with a smile, “and that’s why I came. Mr. Anderson told me that you might be here.”
Mike turned toward the inside and said, “Thanks for dinner, Bridge. I’m going to talk to Stina on the porch then I’ll walk her home.” He turned back to look at her. “If she’ll let me?”
“It isn’t necessary,” Stina replied.
“Don’t be silly. Your house is almost completely across town. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t walk you.” He closed the door and grasped her elbow and led her to the porch swing, asking, “So you came here about the article?”
“I did,” she replied, settling onto the bench swing. “I wanted to thank you. I didn’t realize that you would publish the article so soon.”