Chapter Seven
December
Careful not to spill a drop of the precious melted silver in the small pan he held with a pair of pliers, Gunder knew the success of the piece rested in his ability to pour decisively and fast while keeping his movements controlled and accurate.
Only once the silver was inside the mold he’d made from a mixture of sand and clay did he release the breath he’d been holding and return inside his tent while the silver cooled.
Upon learning of Gunder’s ability to repair jewelry, Mr. Goodwin had asked him if he was capable of making jewelry.
Gunder had warned him he was out of practice, but was willing to try.
The man had commissioned him to make three necklace pendants, one for each of his daughters, for Christmas.
Mr. Goodwin had ordered silver chains, and all Gunder had to do was create the pendants.
It helped that Mr. Goodwin had supplied Gunder with good, clean silver for melting.
Each pendant featured the daughter’s initial with engraved flourishes around it.
Gunder had finished two of them, keeping the design pretty but simple.
He had his own special project he needed to complete before Christmas arrived in a few weeks.
Although he’d inwardly debated back and forth about making it, the silver he’d just poured into a mold was going to be a promise ring for Risa.
A promise of what he hoped to one day provide for her sometime in the distant future, if she were of a mind to wait for him.
Otherwise, she could view the ring as a gift of friendship.
Gunder thought she loved him. Thought he could see the depths of her affection for him in her beautiful blueberry-blue gaze and hear it every time she said his name, but he still wasn’t certain.
Despite thinking about it nearly every day since the Fourth of July, he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
He’d dreamed about it so many times, it always seemed like he had, but he had a feeling the reality of tasting Risa’s sweet lips would far surpass anything he could possibly imagine.
However, there would be no kisses, no declarations of feelings, until he could at least show her he intended to provide for her. He thought he’d saved enough to buy one of the Lovely lots. They’d just have to wait to wed until he could afford to build a shack on it. Perhaps in another year or two.
The thought of waiting that long to hold her, to love her, made him want to shout in frustration, but wait he would because Risa was special, a woman to be treasured, and that is what he intended to do. Cherish her. Shelter her. Protect her, even if it was from him.
Gunder sighed and took out the small set of tools he used for jewelry repair.
When Gloria Franklin had learned he could make repairs, she must have spread the word to every female in a fifty-mile radius of Baker City.
He’d had a steady supply of pieces to work on, and the funds he made from the work had given him hope for his future.
He still sent money every month to his parents, but not as much as he had been.
His mother had read between the lines about his feelings for Risa, and his father had told him to stop sending money because Gunder needed to save it for his future.
He intended to keep sending money, at least until spring. By then, his mother would have plenty of new mending projects, and winter would be behind them.
Gunder moved the apple crate he used as a table closer to where he sat by the little stove in his tent, trying to get warm after his drive back to Lovely from Baker City and then being outside as he melted the silver.
His feet felt half frozen, but they were starting to thaw.
He adjusted the wick on his lamp so it burned a little brighter, then set about the task of repairing a broken clasp on a delicate bracelet.
It was a finely made piece, and the craftsman had done a splendid job creating it, but Gloria’s neighbor had brought it over last night and asked him to fix it after her six-year-old clubbed the clasp with a mallet.
Gunder had just finished the repair when he heard a feminine voice outside his tent. He rolled his eyes and considered pretending not to be there, but the brazen girl would likely stick her head in his tent anyway.
Maybelle Dutton and her family had moved to Lovely at the end of October and the seventeen-year-old girl had set her cap for Gunder. She hadn’t yet accepted the notion he was not interested in her. Not even a little bit.
She’d become a nuisance he did his best to avoid.
Pastor Thomas had nearly laughed Sunday morning when Gunder had timed his arrival for the service so he could dash inside and take a seat between Risa and Lars on the pew they always occupied.
He’d been rushing up the aisle at the church, when Maybelle had grabbed his arm and tried to force him to sit beside her.
Heedless of the fact that he half-dragged her across the church, he’d plunked into the seat between the Hoffmans while everyone had done their best to hold back their amusement.
Maybelle seemed to view church services as an opportunity to wedge herself into Gunder’s presence, regardless of how much he was against it.
Lars had taken pity on Gunder after the first Sunday when Maybelle had practically shoved him into the pew with her family, and he’d suggested Gunder plan to sit between him and Risa until Maybelle found someone new to pester.
The problem was the girl seemed as dense as the fog Gunder had driven through on his way to Baker City yesterday.
If he and the team hadn’t known the road so well, goodness only knew where he might have ended up.
So far, it hadn’t been too bad driving the freight wagon through the snow, but Lars had warned him when the snow was several feet deep and grooves were worn into the road, it made traveling more of a challenge.
Silas Evans had a shiny black sleigh at the livery he’d offered to let Gunder borrow if he wanted to take Risa for a ride some Sunday afternoon.
Although he’d been sorely tempted to do it, he figured until Maybelle turned her attention elsewhere, it was best not to give her any ideas, or place Risa in the girl’s sights as a target for the hostility and sharp tongue he’d noticed she possessed.
Maybelle might be outwardly attractive with an abundance of brown curls and big brown eyes, but Gunder wasn’t interested.
Besides, he thought kindness and a good heart mattered more than a fair face, although he found Risa to be both sweet and lovely. He hoped if he ever worked up the courage to share his feelings with her, Risa wouldn’t blacken his eye.
Mentioning the word lovely, at least when referring to the town, indicated something that was far from beautiful.
Gunder decided he’d been living here long enough that Lovely was growing on him. On the nights he stayed at Mrs. Franklin’s place in Baker City, he missed being here. He wasn’t sure how much of that was the town beginning to feel like home or his home being wherever Risa resided.
“Mr. Birke!” Maybelle screeched loud enough to splinter glass.
Gunder set his tools aside, wiped his hands on the legs of his trousers, and tossed back the flap of his tent.
Quickly, he stepped outside and pulled the flap closed before Maybelle could do so much as cast a glance inside.
He wouldn’t put it past her to snoop in his tent when he was gone and the other men were working in the mine.
He’d moved the bell and brooch that were such a big part of his heritage to the bank in Baker City, where he kept a good portion of his earnings, so at least no one could pilfer them if they happened to find his hidden hole beneath his cot.
He’d piled a few crates beneath his cot, mostly filled with wood so the pieces would be dry for burning in his fire pit outside, as well as in the little stove that kept his tent somewhat warm.
“Evening, Miss Dutton,” Gunder said as flat and expressionless as he could manage.
Mr. Goodwin walked by on his way home and smirked, fully aware that Maybelle was attempting to cling to Gunder like a burr tangled in a Saint Bernard’s fur.
Gunder nodded to his boss, wishing the man would call him over with some matter that needed to be discussed, only Mr. Goodwin silently hurried into town.
“My mother said I could invite you to supper tonight, Mr. Birke. Will you escort me back to my home and join us?” the girl asked, looking far too conniving for Gunder’s liking. If she’d been a mule, he would have led her back into the corral and chosen one with a less volatile temperament.
Gunder had to turn away and hide a laugh with a feigned cough as he envisioned the indignation that would alter Maybelle’s practiced smile if she knew he’d just compared her to an ornery, foul-tempered mule.
He’d have to share that thought with Risa, though.
She’d find it most amusing, since Maybelle had tilted her pug nose in the air and glowered down it at Risa the first Sunday they’d met.
“That’s very kind of your mother,” Gunder said, feeling sympathy for the poor woman who was burdened with not only Maybelle, but a husband who was exactly like the girl, at least from what Gunder had seen.
Mr. Dutton had come to town boasting about his money and standing in society, but Gunder knew for a fact that he’d inquired about work all around town.
Even Mr. Goodwin wouldn’t offer him a job, and he’d take just about any able-bodied man who was upright to work in the mine.
“But I …” He didn’t want to lie, but he had no interest in spending the evening with Maybelle or her boasting father. “I, um …”
“Mr. Birke! There you are. Did you forget you promised to help me with the well this evening?” Risa asked as she marched up to him and placed a hand on his coat sleeve.