Chapter 6
Leif eased the skiff back to the ground. What had gotten into him? Sunna, the Norse sun goddess, for Loki’s sake! The words had simply flown out of his mouth. His conversational skills fell apart in her company.
He’d noticed her professional-looking camera inside the cottage—and the sketchbook, of course.
She was an artist type, and she’d called him an artist too.
That idea melted him. He thought about taking her to G?sholmen, though he feared he couldn’t trust his mouth to work properly around her.
He felt an unfamiliar yearning as he wondered what it would be like to be with someone like Ella.
But she was just visiting, which was problematic enough.
Why couldn’t he find someone like her here?
Guitar music drifted from the patio, and she began to sing Eric Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven,” the same tune she’d played this morning as he fished offshore.
His stomach went hollow. She was doing a beautiful job with the song—her voice was soulful, vulnerable—but each time he heard that song on the radio, he thought about his mother and father, and wondered if they’d know him if they saw him again.
Perhaps Ella wondered the same thing about her own mother, and maybe even her father too.
After filling out the estimate for the boat repairs, Leif approached Ella where she sat strumming her guitar on the granite patio that edged the water. She wore large, sparkly rings on her fingers, and her lips were the color of raspberries. He held out the paper to her.
“Give me a moment—I’m working on a song. I need to write down the lyric or I’ll forget it.” She scribbled something in the notebook splayed open at her feet.
Mia was right; Ella was charming. If he was smart, he’d give the repair job to someone else and avoid any further involvement with her. She took the paper from him, scanned it, then folded her arms.
“You must be kidding.”
“It’s a fair price—more than fair. I’ve taken fifty percent off the price of the paint, since I’ve got some paint left over from an earlier job.”
“No. This seems outrageous to me.” Handing back the estimate, she said, “I think I’ll get another quote.”
“You won’t find a better one.” He didn’t need this headache. Turning to leave, he tripped over the guitar case, and his face flushed.
She looked back down at her guitar and began to strum and sing: “I gave him some lip and sent him on a trip. Little Boy Blue—”
He erupted with sarcastic laughter, even though his stomach had gone hollow all over again. He pointed at the dock and said, “You can borrow the red dinghy until I complete the job. Don’t let your boats fall apart. They have a terrific resale value.”
“Do you happen to know how much they’re worth?”
“The bigger of your two, the skjekte, is worth around thirty thousand kroner, and the pram runs around sixteen thousand.”
Ella did mental math. “Wow. That’s around eight grand in US dollars . . . Well, OK then, please service them for me. I’d like to sell them quickly.” With that kind of cash, she could pay Petal and even buy a new industrial sewing machine.
“Someone from the boatyard will get to it ASAP. The dinghy is seaworthy; you can row to G?sholmen in fifteen minutes.” He motioned at the island straight across the channel. “See the cottage, on the tip of that island? If you take the boat around that bend, G?sholmen will be off to your left.”
“Thank you, but I’ll have to pass.” Ella didn’t like the look of the sea-foam edging the rocks. “Do you think you could recommend other places for me to visit while I’m here? I’d like to find out anything I can about my family.”
“Not really,” he said bluntly. “But you can always take the dinghy to explore the islands if you wanted to. Or you might want to hire a local schoolboy to ferry you around after he finishes his homework?”
Ella started strumming again, and he distinctly heard the opening chords of “Don’t Come Around Here No More” by Tom Petty.
“Right. Go on, give the dinghy a try. Unless you’re afraid you’ll chip those lovely nails of yours.”
Her cheeks reddened. She was flustered. Good. He secured the dinghy mooring lines to Ella’s dock, and then he left.