Chapter Seven #2
“That’s right,” he said, as relief flowed from his head all the way to his toes at Risa’s timely arrival.
She must have heard part of the conversation as she approached them, although he hadn’t seen or heard her until she appeared out of the shadows that had settled over the camp.
Gunder cast a quick glimpse at Maybelle.
“I do appreciate the invitation, but I won’t be able to join you. ”
“But we must walk her home, Mr. Birke. It’s too dark for anyone as fetching as Miss Dutton to be out alone.
” Risa smiled brightly at Maybelle, then looped her arm around the girl’s and tugged her in the direction of town.
“Hurry along, Mr. Birke. I’ll meet you by the well,” Risa called over her shoulder, then turned back to Maybelle.
“Perhaps one day, Miss Dutton, you’ll share how you get your curls to glisten so beautifully.
And your cheeks look as though they’ve been kissed by dewy-dipped roses. ”
Gunder had to duck back into his tent and laugh into his pillow lest Maybelle hear him.
That Risa! Perhaps she should consider a career in the theater with the performance she’d delivered outside.
Gunder added a piece of wood to his stove so the fire wouldn’t burn out before he returned, put away his repair tools and stuck them in the pack he still carried with him every time he drove a freight wagon to Baker City, and carefully tucked the bracelet into a small leather pouch he used to transport jewelry pieces.
He retrieved the mold and his equipment from outside, then made sure his tent flap was secure and jogged along the snow-covered path to Risa’s house.
The outside of the Hoffmans’ shack might not have varied greatly from the other shacks in Lovely, but the inside was a warm, welcoming place that always made him feel at home.
He hurried around the house and over to the well that was covered by a three-sided lean-to. Risa leaned against the well and smiled at him as he approached.
“What dire disaster has befallen the well?” he asked.
“It seems the bucket fell in,” she said, and gave it a shove.
Gunder laughed and lunged forward, easily catching the rope and pulling the bucket out before it went down far enough to hit water.
He hung the bucket on the hook Lars had installed for that purpose, then slid the wooden cover back over the well.
With the pump by the barn and the one at the kitchen sink, the well wasn’t often used for retrieving water by the bucketful, but it had made a good excuse for Gunder to turn down Maybelle’s invitation.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” Gunder whispered as he followed Risa out to the barn, mindful of the chores she needed to tend to.
“You’re welcome,” she whispered. “I was just leaving the boardinghouse when I saw Maybelle’s skirts swishing through town. That usually means she’s on her way to see you.”
Gunder sighed, weary from keeping up his defenses around the annoying girl. “Will she ever understand I’m not interested?”
“Eventually. Hopefully. She is like a dog with a bone it refuses to turn loose when it comes to you, though. Know anyone at the mine who’d be interested in her?” Risa asked as she handed Gunder the milk bucket, and he took a seat next to the docile milk cow.
“There isn’t anyone at the mine I dislike enough to sic Maybelle on them.”
Risa’s laughter filled the barn as she doled out feed for the horses, then filled their water buckets while he milked the cow. Her laughter put Gunder in mind of silver bells, ringing in pure, delightful tones that echoed softly in his heart.
He turned to watch her as she gave both King and Prince attention, wondering what she whispered to the big Belgian horses. Did they carry her secrets, the most tender longings of her heart?
Gunder couldn’t help but hope he was included in at least one or two of her wishes.
They finished the chores, then made their way inside the house, where warmth stung his cold cheeks, and the scent of stew bubbling on the stove made his stomach growl in hunger.
“I really should pay you for all the meals I eat here,” he said, removing his scarf and coat, and hanging them on a peg by the door where Lars usually left his.
Risa shook her head, then swatted him with the mitten she’d just tugged off. “What do you think the crates of apples and pears in the cellar are, if not payment for the meals you share with us?”
Gunder shrugged and held her coat as she slipped her arms from the sleeves.
One Sunday evening when he’d been there for supper, Risa had mentioned wanting apples and pears.
The next time he was in Baker City, he tracked down a farmer selling apples, and another who’d raised pears.
He’d purchased four crates of apples and two of pears, and presented them to a shocked Risa, indicating he’d bought them to compensate for some of the food he’d eaten at her table.
“It’s no trouble at all to feed you, Gunder, especially since I’ve yet to set something on the table that made you turn up your nose.”
He grinned and hung her coat next to his, thinking how much he liked the way they looked side by side. Like they belonged together. Like he wanted to belong to Risa.
Someday. If the good Lord were willing, someday it would be so.
He turned and found her at the sink drying her hands.
“Wash up while I take the biscuits out of the oven,” she said, and used a folded towel to pull out the pan of golden biscuits while he washed his hands and hastily dried them.
Gunder filled two glasses with cold well water and set them on the table, then took cutlery from the box on a shelf by the sink and set the pieces in their usual places.
The notion that he had a place at Risa’s table brought him up short. He had a place there. One where he was always welcome. He glanced at her as she brushed an unruly strand of hair from her cheek and wished with everything in him that he had a place in her heart.
Risa filled two bowls with the aromatic stew and handed them to him, then set the biscuits on a plate and carried it to the table. Gunder retrieved the butter and jam, while Risa set two napkins at the table.
Harmony.
Gunder mused that being around Risa made him feel as though life were a song sung in perfect harmony. There were times the song might be soft and easy, and other times when it was energetic and bold, but the notes were always in harmony.
He longed to share the thought with her, but instead tucked it away into the box in his mind he’d labeled Someday.
After asking a blessing on the meal, he leaned back in his chair and offered Risa a sly smile. “When Maybelle cornered me outside my tent, I had the strangest thought if she were a mule, I’d refuse to let her in my string.”
Risa, who had been taking a drink of water, snorted liquid out of her nose, turned a bright shade of red, and held the napkin over her face.
Gunder couldn’t help the hearty laughter that rolled out of him, and only laughed harder when Risa thumped his arm.
“You just had to tell me that when I was taking a drink. I’d be mortified by that most disgraceful display, but I have a feeling you don’t care at all.” Risa’s face remained red, but she settled back in her chair and draped her napkin over her lap.
“I don’t. Obviously, you thought it was funny too.”
“That’s beside the point. And heaven help you if Maybelle ever finds out you compared her to a cantankerous mule.”
Gunder grinned and picked up his spoon, dipping it into the thick beef stew. “I never called her cantankerous, but if she were a mule, she’d pretend to act docile until your back was turned, then either bite your shoulder or kick you into next week.”
Risa stared at him for a moment before she dissolved into a fit of giggles that made him chuckle so much he had to set down his spoon before he spilled the stew. When their amusement finally waned, Gunder picked up the spoon and took a bite.
“This is delicious. How did you have time to prepare it this evening?” he asked, spooning another bite.
“I set it in the oven to cook all day and ran home at noon to check on it and add more wood to the stove. It was so nice to come home to a meal mostly ready to eat.”
“But you made hot biscuits,” Gunder said, buttering one and dipping the edge of it in his stew. “You make the best biscuits, Ree.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she said, appearing pleased by his praise.
She asked him about the jewelry projects he was working on, and he questioned her about the latest letter from Mrs. Franklin. Since the day of the picnic two months ago, when the women had met, they had kept up a frequent correspondence, with Lars and Gunder delivering the messages back and forth.
Gunder certainly didn’t mind. Both Risa and Mrs. Franklin seemed so happy to receive news from the other one.
“Do you think your father is getting any closer to proposing to Mrs. Franklin?” Gunder asked after they’d finished the meal that included canned peaches with cream for dessert. He carried dishes to the sink and began washing them while Risa dried and put them away.
Risa shrugged and put the bowl she held on a shelf. “I have no idea. I don’t know why he’s so fearful to grab on to happiness, but I’m starting to worry it’s because of me.”
“You?” Gunder stopped scrubbing the stew pot to look at her. “Why would you say that?”
“Because.” Risa stared off in the distance then down at the floor, before she lifted her gaze to meet his.
When she did, her eyes were swimming in unshed tears.
“If he didn’t worry about me, I’m sure he would have married Mrs. Franklin months ago.
I don’t think he will until I’m settled with a home of my own. ”
Gunder opened his mouth and closed it twice, uncertain what to say. He wanted to tell her he’d marry her right that minute if that’s what she wanted, but he didn’t. The time wasn’t right, and she and her father needed to settle matters between them before Gunder or Mrs. Franklin got involved.