Chapter 15
In the guest room at Ringpynten, Ella dug through an antique sea chest that held several of Mormor’s belongings.
She found it odd that Mormor had left valuable family heirlooms at the cottage, like sterling silver flatware, four silver goblets, and a silver barbell-style baby rattle with the block letter S engraved on each end.
Ella traced her fingers over the rattle that must have belonged to Sara and wondered, yet again, why Mormor wouldn’t talk about her own daughter.
Since arriving at Ringpynten, Ella had tried to be more generous about the choices her grandma had made.
She considered that perhaps Mormor had been trying to run from the pain that these once-treasured objects may have held for her.
If that were true, Ella supposed that Mormor probably continued to carry that pain with her every day, for the rest of her life.
Ella couldn’t help but soften toward her poor Mormor when she considered that she had buried her only child, left her house and her homeland—everything she knew and loved—and raised her granddaughter all on her own in a foreign country.
Why did she want to leave, rather than lean on family and friends at that difficult time in her life?
· · ·
Ella lugged the box full of silver onto the patio.
She’d decided to sell it all, except for Sara’s rattle, which she wanted to keep for her own child someday.
Maybe Mia could recommend a store that bought sterling outright for cash.
That way Ella could reimburse Mia for using the phone at her store to make calls back to Colorado.
Whatever was left over, Ella planned to use it to buy her return ticket, instead of putting it on another credit card.
Ella leaned back on the lounge chair, crossed her legs, and picked up the rattle to polish it.
Her knees felt better underneath the bandages.
Leif’s touch had been gentle yesterday, and it had calmed her so that she’d forgotten about her injuries.
But when he lectured her on water safety, she wished she could click her heels like Dorothy, get the heck out of Oz, and land back home where everything made sense.
And yet a part of her wanted to stick around, at least long enough to show Leif and the other locals that she could handle boats and hang with the best of them.
But Leif had probably returned the dinghy already.
· · ·
When someone nudged Ella’s foot, she opened her eyes at the disturbance. The rattle and rag lay on her lap. She must have dozed off in the lounge chair while polishing the silver. She tipped back her head and saw Leif standing over her. She yanked off her headphones.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” Ella said as she turned off the music—Melissa Etheridge’s raspy, raw, and vulnerable album Brave and Crazy.
“How can you sleep through that racket?” His eyes gleamed at her.
Ella sat up. “Music helps me sleep. I live over a bar. Well, I work there too, and the walls are thin . . . it can get pretty noisy.”
“You’re a waitress?”
“No, a bartender.”
“A bartender?” His brow flicked. “Can you even reach the bar?”
“I’m five foot five and good at my job.”
“Five foot five, and bigger than all the world.” He grinned at her, but his dimples flattened out as he motioned at her bandages. “How are your knees?”
“Sore, but they’re healing.”
“Good. I brought back the dinghy, should you like to give it another go.”
“Thanks. Um, that’s really generous of you. I didn’t think you’d trust me with it again.” Maybe she could forgive him. His broad shoulders made it tempting.
“No worries,” he assured her as a smile crinkled his eyes. He slid his leather backpack from his shoulder, reached inside, and retrieved a hardback. “I have something for you—a book on nautical knots and how to tie them. You might find it helpful.”
“Thanks, but you can keep it. I won’t be staying long enough for all that.”
“Oh, alright.” He seemed hurt, and she admitted to herself that maybe she’d been a little abrupt. She didn’t want to care about how he felt, but she hadn’t exactly forgotten about the twinge in her chest, either.
“Well, OK, I’ll just take a look.”
As she reached for the book, a light breeze caught his citrus-and-mint scent, and a low thrumming moved through her. There was no reason to be rude, so she thumbed through the book.
“This does look useful,” she said, and turned to another page. “I can make a macramé dream catcher with several of them.” She shut the book. “Thanks, I’ll make sure to give it back before I leave for home.”
“Oh, keep it. When are you going?”
“I can only stay two weeks.”
“That soon?” he frowned. He seemed disappointed, and that melted her.
“Well, yeah, I need to get back to my business. I have deadlines. Plus I have to get back to my job at the bar.”
“Two jobs, that’s impressive. Still, there’s a lot to see and do here before you leave.” He hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he stared at the dock instead.
It could have been her imagination, but she thought she heard him mutter, “Do it, bonehead.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek to suppress her laughter as he turned to look at her.
His eyes glimmered, and he said, “You really should experience a proper Norwegian meal before you go. Would you like to have dinner with me?”
That surprised her. His sexy, deep-set eyes traveled over her face, looking for her answer. Her gaze landed on his full lips, and she could only think of kissing him.
“Dinner?” she said. “What, like boiled fish and potatoes?” She wrinkled her nose for good measure to try to hide her singing heart. Why did she have to be so mean to him? She felt lucky that he didn’t seem to notice, since he was staring at her necklace.
“It’s aquamarine,” he stated, as if that were somehow out of the ordinary.
“Yes. It brings good luck on the water, that’s why I wear it.”
“Same here. Our pendants match. Some coincidence, don’t you think?” He laughed and slid his cord necklace from under his shirt so that she could see it.
“Amazing!” Was it a coincidence or a sign? Of course she’d have to forgive him now. But he didn’t need to know that her heart was beating double time.
He grinned. “We could discuss it tonight. I cook a good lapskaus.”
“Lap-sky-ass? That sounds like an exotic dance.”
“Nope, it’s a beef and vegetable stew. So how about it? I can pick you up at four o’clock?”
How could she resist a dinner with this Viking of a man, who was also a gifted artist? As a bonus, she considered that visiting his home would be a great opportunity to see how the locals lived . . . maybe how her mom might have lived.
“OK, dinner sounds great! See you at four.” She sounded as happy with her decision as she felt. And yet this wasn’t a real date, she told herself. It would make for a nice memory though.