“Mama—”
“Listen to your mother, Hanna,” Lars said. “She is giving you good advice.”
“You might not love Ulli now, but love can happen with time,” Inga said. “Your friend Lillian was just fifteen when she married Stefan. Look at them now. You can see how devoted they are.”
“But she wasn’t forced to marry him.” Hanna knew her friend’s story well. “He took her in after her parents died in a fire. He was like a father to her. They married because she was growing up and people were beginning to talk. But at least they cared about each other.”
Lars sighed and rose from his place at the table. “We can’t force you to marry anyone, Hanna. But I will insist that you keep yourself open to the idea. Ulli wants to finish his cabin before he takes another wife. In the meantime, I’ve invited him to stop by and visit from time to time so you can get to know him.”
“In other words, he’ll be courting me.”
“I suppose he will. And you are to be pleasant to him. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Papa, I understand.” Right now, Hanna just wanted the conversation to end.
“Ulli will want an answer by the time his cabin is finished,” Inga said. “For our family’s sake, we hope you will say yes.”
For our family’s sake. Guilt twisted inside Hanna like the blade of a sharp knife. Of course, it would be to her family’s advantage if she were to become Mrs. Ulli Swenson. Ulli had money and influence. He was becoming a leader in the small community of immigrants. The connection to his family could be useful in many ways, especially for her brothers and sisters.
Hanna barely knew the man. The thought of sharing his bed made her cringe. But in this untamed land where survival was a constant struggle, how could she allow her own happiness to rule her decision?
* * *
That night, with her father’s snores reverberating through the shack, Hanna eased away from her slumbering sisters and tiptoed outside to find the one person with whom she could speak openly—the one person who would understand. At first, she didn’t see Alvar, and she feared he might be asleep in the wagon. But then he stepped into sight, alert and fully dressed.
“I had a feeling you might come,” he said.
“Thank you for waiting—oh, Alvar.”
“I know,” he said.
They stood side by side, gazing up at the Milky Way, just as they had the night before. But since then, the world had shifted for both of them.
“Have you told Papa you want to work at the sawmill?” she asked.
“Not yet. I have a feeling he won’t approve. But I want to do it anyway. I need something more than plowing and planting and living for the harvest—something more than this farm. I know Papa needs me here—Axel’s too small to do the work. But I don’t know if I can be what he wants me to be.”
He ran a hand through his thick blond hair, raking it back from his face. “Papa took me aside after he got home tonight. He said that when they go after those men who attacked you, I’m to stay behind. If anything happens to him, he wants to know that I’ll be here to take care of the family.”
Hanna shook her head. “I hope they never find those men. Forget that brave talk about honor—I can’t stand the thought of lives being lost on my account.”
“That’s not how men think, Hanna.” He looked down at her. “But what about you? When Papa shooed the rest of us outside, what did he and Mama have to say to you?”
“Oh—I’m to marry Ulli Swenson, to preserve my honor and improve the prospects of our family.”
Alvar’s breath whistled as he exhaled. “Can they make you do that?”
“No. But they can make me feel like a traitor if I don’t. Ulli’s cabin will be finished sometime this fall. I have until then to make up my mind. But they’re expecting a yes.” Turning, she caught his sleeve. “Why can’t we just run away, to someplace where nobody knows us—someplace where we can be anyone we want to be?”
Alvar sighed. “It’s a nice fantasy, Hanna. But fantasies are for children. Most of us never get what we want. We just have to accept what life gives us and make the best of it.”
Hanna watched a falling star streak across the sky and vanish into the darkness. Alvar was wise beyond his years. But was he right? What about men like Benteen Calder who had driven a herd of cattle up from Texas and forged an empire? He could have stayed in Texas and settled for whatever he had there. Instead he had chosen not to make do. He had seized life and fashioned it to his own purpose.
She’d met other men cast in the same mold—men like Blake Dollarhide, who had money and power and were determined to build on what they had. He’d been in her thoughts all afternoon, while she sat by the table darning socks and sewing on buttons. The image of his rugged face and fierce blue eyes had drifted in and out of her memory. She’d felt protected with him, and strangely alive. But she knew better than to think anything would come of their meeting. As Alvar had said, fantasies were for children. It was time she grew up.
“I need a favor,” she said to her brother. “My friend, Lillian, was burned by the fire yesterday. I’d like to go and visit her, but after what happened this morning, I’m sure Papa won’t let me go alone. Could you find the time to take me?”
“I don’t see why not, as long as it’s all right with Papa,” Alvar said. “I’ll ask him and let you know. For now, I think it’s time you went back inside before somebody wakes up and misses you.”
She touched his arm. “Good night, Alvar. I wish I was as wise as you are.”
“I don’t have all the answers, Hanna. Nobody does. You mostly have to find your own.”
She left him then to steal back into the house and slip under the edge of the quilt next to the sleeping Gerda. For the rest of the night she lay still, listening to the sounds of her family breathing as she gazed up into the darkness.
Tomorrow, if all went well, she would have a chance to talk with her friend Lillian. Although they were close to the same age, Lillian was years older in terms of experience. She knew what it was like, being married to an older man. She should be able to offer Hanna some advice.
But was Lillian happy with Stefan?
Hanna remembered watching her friend dance around the floor in Webb Calder’s arms. It was as if Lillian had come to life, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed, her generous mouth curved in a smile. And later, when Lillian’s skirt had caught fire, Hanna remembered how Webb had swept her up in his arms and how Stefan had blocked his path and snatched her away.
If Hanna could believe what her eyes had seen, maybe her friend’s marriage wasn’t so happy after all.
* * *
Blake was on the platform four days later when the eastbound train came through. He cursed as the freight cars clattered past without so much as slowing down. The flatcar loaded with his logs should have arrived days ago. But there was still no sign of it. What the devil had gone wrong?
Before the railroad had come to Blue Moon, Blake had depended on ox-drawn wagons to haul two-foot-thick western white pine logs from the mountain forests of central Montana. But the need for even bigger logs, which could provide more and larger cuts with less waste, had spawned the idea of shipping three-foot logs of Douglas fir from the Oregon coast by rail. There were even bigger logs available—some as thick as a man was tall. But for Blake’s purpose, they would be too heavy to transport and haul.