“We can talk about that when the time comes,” Blake said. “For now, just take the wood.”
Lars nodded in slow acquiescence. “Since you have come all this way, would you do us the honor of sharing our supper?”
Blake remembered the time Inga had apologized for not inviting him to lunch. Maybe it was up to her husband to extend an invitation. He hadn’t planned on staying long, but Lars might take his refusal as an insult. “I’d be happy to join you,” he said.
“It’s almost ready.” Inga, recovering from her surprise, began giving orders. “Axel, see to Mr. Dollarhide’s horse. Britta, dip some fresh water in the basin by the barrel. Gerda, you come with me and help set the table. Hanna, I need you to tend the stove.”
Blake and Lars were left alone.
“You have a fine family, Mr. Anderson,” Blake said, making talk to fill the silence. “I’ve been impressed with Alvar. He’s a smart young man. Given an education, he could go far. I’d even be willing to see that he gets some help with schooling.”
“An education?” A note of anger had crept into the big man’s voice. “Alvar is my son. When I am gone, he and his brother will work this land and raise their families here. That is my legacy, my dream for them. An education would only put wild ideas into Alvar’s head. He’s got too many of those already. Even working at your sawmill has made him restless. Maybe when he comes home, he should stay here and not go back.”
“And what about your girls?”
He shrugged. “They will get married, of course, and go with their husbands. Their one duty to our family is to marry with honor.”
Blake had been about to mention that his sister planned to become a doctor. He decided to hold his tongue.
“Hanna was going to marry Ulli Swenson,” Lars continued. “He was well-off. He would have taken good care of her. But then, you know what happened.”
“Yes, I know.” The thought of that senseless tragedy still sickened Blake—as did knowing that the men who’d caused it were still free.
“At least Ulli didn’t lose a son,” Lars said. “A girl, that is sad enough, but a boy . . .” He shrugged, leaving Blake at a loss for words.
A call to supper broke the awkward moment. Blake followed his host into the house and joined the family at a table made of rough planks and covered with an embroidered linen cloth that must’ve been a family treasure.
A lantern on a hook above the table lent light to the dark space inside the tar paper home. Out of politeness, Blake avoided too much looking around, but he could see that every inch of space was put to use. Clothes and other items hung from nails driven into the supports. Chests and boxes lined the walls and served as extra seating. The place was remarkably neat and clean, the children well-groomed and well-mannered. His admiration grew for the work-worn woman who sat across the table, ladling a savory stew of carrots, potatoes, and some kind of meat onto his plate next to a thick slice of fresh bread.
After Axel’s blessing on the food, they began to eat. There was a minimum of talk as was the custom. In the stillness, Blake found his gaze lingering on Hanna. She sat with her eyes lowered as the lantern light gleamed on her pale gold hair, casting her face in shadow. She’d said nothing since her early outburst when her father had criticized Alvar’s working. Maybe her mother had scolded her about it in the house.
But no, it had to be more than that. She’d changed since the last time he’d seen her in town, as if a shadow had been cast over her. She stared down at her plate, toying with the small amount of food she’d taken and never once glancing up to meet his eyes.
What’s wrong, Hanna? Why won’t you look at me? Is something the matter?
Maybe he should ask Alvar about her. But no, that would be out of line. Hanna’s troubles, whatever they might be, were none of his business. She was a young girl from a traditional family. Any show of friendship or concern on his part might be misread as improper.
When the meal was finished, he thanked Lars and Inga for their hospitality and took his leave. As he mounted up and rode out of the gate, his anxious eyes scanned the yard for Hanna. She was nowhere to be seen.
But as he rode home through the deepening twilight with crickets singing in the prairie grass and a full moon rising over the mountains, her image lingered in his memory—from her fiery defense of her brother to her withdrawn silence over supper. He pictured her as he’d seen her tonight, sitting across from him like a wounded Madonna, the light making a halo of her golden hair. She was beautiful, defiant, and visibly unhappy—and there was nothing he could do for her.
But at least he could be relieved that she hadn’t married Ulli Swenson.
By the time Blake arrived home, the house was dark except for a light in the upstairs window of the room where his mother had settled Alvar. Was everything all right? Could Alvar’s condition have worsened?
After putting his horse away, he entered the quiet house and ascended the familiar stairs in the dark. The door to his parents’ bedroom was closed and there was no light from underneath. They were most likely asleep by now.
The door to Alvar’s room stood ajar, casting a shaft of flickering light into the hallway. As he came closer, he heard the sound of chatting voices and laughter. He opened the door to see Kristin sitting on a chair next to Alvar’s bed.
As Blake stepped into the room, his sister turned toward him with a guilty look, as if knowing she shouldn’t be alone with a young man, in his room, at that late hour. But Blake couldn’t help noticing how her eyes sparkled.
“We were just talking,” she said. “Alvar was telling me about New York and what it was like to grow up there. He and his father worked on the docks, unloading cargo from all over the world. And there was a big library where he could read any book he wanted. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? I’m going to ask Mother if he can borrow a few of her books. I know he’d take good care of them.”
“It’s late, Kristin. Time you were in bed,” Blake said, playing the protective older brother.
“Oh, I know.” Kristin stood. “I’ll see you in the morning, Alvar. If you can’t come down to the kitchen, I’ll bring you some breakfast.”
She floated out of the room, her eyes bright, her color high. Left alone with Alvar, Blake fixed him with a stern look that said more than words.
“I’m sorry, sir. We got talking and didn’t realize how much time had passed. It won’t happen again.” The color rose in Alvar’s face as he added, “Your sister’s a nice girl, maybe the nicest girl I’ve ever met. But I would never presume to think I might be worthy of her.”
Blake had to smile at the boy’s formal speech, which probably came from some book he’d read. He took the chair next to the bed. “It’s not that, Alvar. I’m guessing that Kristin told you she wants to become a doctor. She’ll be leaving for school in a few months, as soon as the arrangements can be made, and she’ll be gone for a long time, most likely for years. Once she finishes her training, she might never come back to Blue Moon.”
“Yes, she told me. I think it’s great that a woman can do such things. I only wish that Hanna—” Breaking off, he shook his head. “Never mind. Just know that I wish Kristin nothing but the best.”