Chapter Ten
Deep in his thoughts on a Saturday afternoon, Gunder drove the last mile to Lovely barely aware of his surroundings.
Since Risa had left to visit a friend earlier in the week, nothing had seemed right in his world.
Her absence had left such a gaping hole in his life, he felt as though part of himself was missing.
In fact, when he’d been at Gloria’s boardinghouse this week, there were moments he could almost catch a whiff of her fragrance that always made him think of sugar cookies and Christmas. Or maybe it had been the vast array of goodies Gloria had been baking recently.
Seemingly overnight, Gloria had transformed the house into a glorious thing to behold, with an assortment of festive decorations.
She’d informed him that morning she wasn’t waiting for Christmas Eve for a tree and expected Lars to help her fetch one when he came the following week.
Gunder could almost envision how it would look in the sitting room, centered in the big bay window.
Gloria had been in fine spirits recently, and Gunder pondered whether it was the Christmas season or Lars who had made her so joyful. All he knew was the house seemed to ring with her cheerfulness.
Gunder knew he’d never, ever have a house that fine and fancy, but one day he’d have a solid, sturdy home where love filled every corner because he hoped and prayed the one there with him would be Risa. He couldn’t even begin to imagine loving anyone else the way he loved her.
He was anxious to get back to his tent and finish the last bit of delicate scrollwork on the promise ring he’d made for her.
Then all that would be left to do was polish it.
He was sure it would fit her ring finger because when they’d been holding hands one afternoon as they went on a walk after church, he’d managed to loop a thread around her finger to size it without her noticing what he’d done.
Gunder had concluded before he gave Risa a ring, even if it was only one that held the promise of his intentions, he really needed to speak to Lars and ask his permission.
It was the proper thing to do, as his mother had reminded him in her latest letter that had arrived a few days ago.
He’d been surprised to receive a box full of gifts from his family.
Although he should have waited until Christmas to open it, he’d been too excited to postpone the joy he’d found in receiving it.
His mother had sent a tin packed with Swedish cinnamon cookies she made every year for the holidays that he greatly enjoyed.
She’d included a dozen handwritten recipes he could share with Risa if he chose.
His sisters had sent him two pairs of socks they had knitted for him, and his mother had made him a new wool shirt in a shade of blue that matched his eyes.
His father had sent a pair of lined leather gloves that would keep his hands far warmer than the pair he’d been using.
The gift in the box that meant the most to him, though, had been a tiny bell, no bigger than a thimble.
His father’s note had said he’d started working on it the first time Gunder had mentioned Risa and hoped she would like the bell, which he’d sent as a token of friendship and gratitude for her kindness to Gunder.
His mother had included a note to Risa, and his father had written one for Lars.
Gunder would wait until Christmas to share the letters with them.
Inspired by the idea of presenting Risa with the miniature bell that had a single rose engraved on it—which he knew she would love—along with her promise ring, Gunder crafted a box that would hold both.
He used a piece of oak wood he’d purchased for melting silver to create the small box.
Gloria had promised him this morning if he brought the box along on his next trip to Baker City, she had scraps of velvet he could use for lining it and would help him glue them in.
Excited to give gifts he hoped would be well received, combined with the anticipation of the fast-approaching holiday, he should have been beyond joyful.
However, the dark cloud in his otherwise bright sky was Risa’s absence.
Despite his efforts to pry her location out of Lars and Mrs. Baldwin, they stuck to the story she was visiting a friend.
Even Gloria reiterated that statement when he questioned her in regard to Risa’s whereabouts.
He was sure they knew where she was, but refused to tell him for reasons he couldn’t understand.
After the kiss the other night that had nearly melted the boots right off his feet, he’d wanted to confess his feelings and plead with Risa to wait for him. To wait for the future they could have together as soon as he saved enough money to buy a piece of land and build a shack for them.
Instead, he’d come back from his trip to Baker City to find her gone and everyone tight-lipped about her location.
When he’d gone to question Mrs. Baldwin again, Gunder had enjoyed meeting the woman’s niece.
Candi Westcott was a refreshing surprise, living up to her name.
She might appear to be a delicate, expensive confection, but there was more substance to Candi than her fine frippery and flirtatious smiles.
She was intelligent and kind, and it was clear she doted on her aunt.
Also, Gloria had hinted that she’d heard Candi was quite taken with Mr. Stanton at the livery near the stagecoach office. If that were the case, Gunder wished them both a lifetime of happiness and an opportunity to be together.
In the past few days, he’d realized being with the one you love was the most important thing, and the one he loved more than anything in the world was Risa.
He missed her laughter and easy smile. He missed the light that glowed in her blue eyes when she looked up and saw him watching her.
He missed the sunlight creating a halo around her golden head.
He missed her strength of character and her incredible wit, and the warmth that enveloped him when he was with her.
Gunder sighed. Who was he trying to fool?
He missed everything about her. Everything.
He had no idea how he’d survive until she returned, whenever it might be.
Lars would only say he was sure she’d be back in Lovely by Christmas.
If she weren’t, Gunder had concluded he’d beg Lars until he told him where she was and go to her.
He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though.
Eager to finish his work, Gunder drove to the mine and waited as the explosives he’d hauled were unloaded from the wagon. The moment the last case was out of the back, he drove over to the barn, saw to the mules, then headed straight to the Hoffman house.
It was impossible to think of it as a shack when he’d experienced so many happy moments there. Besides, it was the place where the love of his life resided. At least when she wasn’t off visiting a friend whom no one would talk about.
Gunder noticed the house looked different without the screen doors and screens over the windows he’d helped Lars store in the barn until spring. He rapped sharply on the front door, waited a moment, and knocked again.
Lars answered the door, not seeming the least bit surprised to see him. “You’re back early today,” he said, stepping out of the way so Gunder could walk inside the warmth of the house.
The other shacks Gunder had been in were miserable drafty places only slightly better than living in a tent, and some not quite that good.
Not so with the Hoffman home. Lars had done a good job of sealing cracks. The floor was made of wood, and solid. The window let in welcome light as well as air in the summer, and the painted walls made it seem much more like a house than a looming disaster.
“The road was frozen, and it made the trip go a little faster. I also had an extra team of mules pulling because Mr. Goodwin was in a rush for the delivery.”
Lars nodded as he walked over to the stove and poured two cups of coffee from the steaming pot. “Did I hear you had explosives to haul today?”
Gunder nodded as he removed his hat, coat, and scarf, then left them on pegs by the door, along with the pack he carried.
He turned and accepted the cup Lars held out to him.
“Yes. They wanted an extra load to get through the rock they’ve had so much trouble blasting past this week.
I’m always relieved when that last case is unloaded and I drive the mules to the barn in one piece. ”
No matter how many times he’d made the trip back from Baker City with explosives, Gunder didn’t think he’d ever grow accustomed to it.
His nerves were strung tight every time he hauled a load, and relief always washed over him when he could walk away from the mine for the evening knowing he’d survived another dangerous trip.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Lars said, taking a seat at the dining table.
Gunder pulled a chair closer to the stove and sank onto it. Now that he was here with Lars, he wasn’t sure what to say. How did you ask a man who adored his daughter to allow someone not worthy of her for her hand in marriage? Or at least ask permission to make a promise to her about their future?
Loudly clearing his throat, Gunder decided to be blunt and honest. “Sir, I wanted to speak with you about—”
“No.” Lars cut him off with a dark expression and his tone one of warning.
“Sir?” Gunder gave him a questioning look, confused.
“No, Gunder. The answer is no.” Lars took a long sip of his coffee before setting the mug on the table. “You only call me sir when it involves Risa. And if you’re about to cobble together enough courage to ask what I think you’re thinking about asking, the answer is going to be no.”