Chapter Five #2
“Is this your family?” she asked, studying the faces of his parents, sisters, and him.
They’d had the photo taken a week after Gunder had decided to travel to Lovely.
Amalia and Anna had pooled their funds to purchase the picture frame.
No matter where he went, he’d always have a reminder of his family.
By now, though, the girls had likely changed.
Amalia would be finishing her schooling in the spring and planned to get a job teaching.
Anna had no doubt grown in height and was starting to look less like a girl and more like a young woman.
“That’s Amalia by my father, and Anna next to Mama.
” Gunder’s throat felt tight as he said their names.
Thank goodness his mother was a frequent writer of letters.
At least twice a month he received a letter from her, sometimes with notes from his father and the girls.
Gunder wrote a reply to each letter, describing the country, the people he met, and things he’d seen.
He never wrote about the hardships. And not once had he mentioned hauling explosives. He’d only told his parents he got work as a freighter at a mine, that it paid a decent wage, and he had Sundays free to attend church and do as he pleased after the service.
“Such a beautiful family, Gunder. Your sisters are exquisite. Does your father have to chase the boys away from Amalia every evening?”
Gunder smiled. “Not quite that often, but he has run off a few amorous young fellows. With Anna growing up, it will be challenging to have two girls of courting age.”
“It will be. Is this what you wanted me to see? The photograph of them?” Risa asked, reverently brushing her fingers over the image.
Gunder couldn’t help but notice her fingers linger on his face a moment longer than the others. He tried not to read anything into it, though.
“Actually, the photograph wasn’t what I wanted to show you, but I’m glad you saw it. What I wanted you to see is in that little wooden case.”
Risa picked up a small jewelry box that had belonged to Gunder’s great-grandmother. His grandmother had given it to his mother when they’d left Sweden, and his mother had given it to him when he’d left for Oregon.
Slowly, Risa opened the lid of the box, then gasped as she looked at the two pieces that represented both sides of Gunder’s family.
“A bell and a brooch,” Risa said, lifting out the finely crafted oval-shaped silver brooch. “The filigree detail is spectacular.” She held the brooch so she could study it from all angles. “Was this your mother’s?”
Gunder nodded. “It was Mama’s. She told me I needed to bring it with me so I never forget my heritage.”
“Your heritage?” Risa’s brow wrinkled. “You said your mother is a talented seamstress, and does mostly mending these days.”
“True, but Mama’s family has been jewelry makers for a long, long time.
My great-grandfather made that piece for my great-grandmother for their tenth wedding anniversary.
He had his own jewelry shop. My grandmother worked there even though no one knew she was the one creating some of the shop’s most popular pieces.
She taught my mother, and although she has the skill, Mama never had the interest in making jewelry, but she did teach me the basics. ”
Both of Risa’s brows raised. “I can hardly believe your family made this piece. It looks like something a queen would wear.”
Gunder didn’t mention once upon a time a queen had seen the brooch and commissioned his great-grandfather to make a similar piece, only studded with emeralds.
Risa gave the brooch another look before carefully setting it inside the blue-velvet-lined box. She lifted the ornately designed silver sleigh bell and held it in the palm of her hand.
“I’ve never seen anything like this bell. The flowers etched into it are spectacular. Was this something your grandmother created?”
“No. My grandfather, on my father’s side of the family. His father worked for a silversmith who was often requested to make pieces for the King of Sweden. My grandfather did the work, and the silversmith got all the money and glory.”
“Why didn’t your grandfather start his own business?”
Gunder had often wondered that very thing, but knew between politics and the expense of starting a business, it wouldn’t have been possible.
“He lacked the money to go out on his own, and the silversmith would have besmirched his name until no one dared to do business with him. Father said Grandfather was proud of his work, even if no one ever knew he was the creator of the pieces. He specialized in making bells. Sleigh bells. Parsonage bells. Tower bells. Hand bells. Dinner bells. All kinds of bells. The story I’ve heard all my life is that the king wanted a beautiful set of sleigh bells to give to his wife as a Christmas gift.
Her favorite flower was a lily, so Grandfather labored for months and months, hand forging and carving each and every bell so they looked like lily buds about to bloom.
He made a few extra and gave one to each of his children.
Father gave the bell to me so I would never forget that I come from craftsmen who have served kings. ”
Risa shifted the bell in her hand and rang it. The clear, perfect tone echoed across the autumn afternoon. “It’s incredible, Gunder. Do you know how to make bells as well as jewelry?”
“I know the steps to create it, but I’ve never made one entirely on my own. My father makes one bell a year and gives it to my mother for Christmas. It’s a tradition we all look forward to because each bell is so different.”
“Oh, that is wonderful, Gunder. What a special gift and beautiful heritage your family has given you.” Risa returned the bell to the box, then set it back in the tin.
Other than a bundle of letters from his family and a small nugget of gold he’d found on the road to Baker City one day, nothing else was in the box.
As though she sensed that was all she needed to see, Risa set the lid back on the tin and placed it on the ground beside her.
“Thank you for sharing those with me. That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it?
It’s not about getting rich. It’s about claiming your heritage. ”
Gunder nodded. “I don’t want to lose the skills my family taught me. It’s important to me to preserve them, but I can’t do that unless I have silver to work with.”
“Then we’ll just have to figure this out. Mr. Goodwin doesn’t care if you take the silver that falls out of the wagons when they load, does he?”
“No. I have his permission. It’s a lot of work to clean it and get it to the point it’s ready to melt, but that’s been the easy part. Getting the silver hot enough to melt has been the issue.”
“Your fire seems blistering hot to me,” she said, scooting back so she sat partially blocked behind him from the increasing heat. “What’s different about the fire today?”
“I brought back some oak scraps from the lumberyard in Baker City. The manager told me it burns the hottest of any wood in the area.”
“That makes sense. A hotter fire would increase the temperature inside the pot, right?”
“That is my theory.” Gunder continued pumping the bellows. “So, now that you know I’m not just one more greedy buffoon seeking to make his fortune out of silver tailings, what brought you over to see me? You must have finished early at the boardinghouse today.”
“Yes. Two of the boarders are gone for a few weeks, so there are fewer rooms to clean and less food to prepare.” Risa sighed. “It was nice to finish early and have some time to take care of things at the house.”
“And …?” Gunder could tell there was something she wanted to say or ask him. They’d spent enough time together, he knew when a matter weighed heavily on her mind.
Risa plucked a stem of dried grass and twisted it around her fingers. “Do you think Papa is in love with Mrs. Franklin?” she finally blurted, then gaped at him as though she couldn’t quite believe she’d allowed the words to escape.
Gunder nodded. “I do believe that is the best way to describe it, and before you ask, she seems equally smitten with your father. When I stay there, she speaks of him constantly, and with such adoration.”
“Oh, I …” Risa stared off into the distance for several moments, as though she needed to gather her thoughts.
Gunder didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to study her profile, admire the way the lowering sun made her hair look like molten honey, and gilded her skin until it looked as though it had been dusted in gold.
His family might have made works of art from silver, but Risa was a living work of art made by the Creator.
Quite desperately, he longed to reach out and tuck an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, but instead took a tighter grip on the bellows.
“Do you think my father is thinking about marrying Mrs. Franklin?”
Gunder shrugged. “That’s a question for Lars, not me. I have no idea what he’s thinking or planning, nor is it any of my business.”
Risa nodded as tears welled in her eyes. “I know. You’re right. It isn’t my business, but I just want Papa to be happy. I’m afraid he’s holding off his own happiness until he thinks I’ve found mine.”
It was Gunder’s turn to mutter “oh” and ponder the situation. “Do you think it would help if you met Mrs. Franklin? She really is a nice woman.”
“I think it would help immensely, but how would that ever come to pass? The only day Papa and I have off together is Sunday, and I hate to ask him to drive all the way into Baker City on his one day off.”
Gunder considered the options. “What if Mrs. Franklin met you halfway? That’s only five miles for each of you.
It’s possible to travel that in an hour or so, depending on the horse and conveyance.
Maybe you and your father could meet her for a picnic after church on Sunday. The weather should still be pleasant.”