Chapter 23
The following morning at seven, Leif awakened to a loud rap at his door.
“Give me a moment!” he shouted from his bed and threw off the blanket. He winced at the pain in his head, a reminder of the fifth of whiskey he’d put away last night after dropping off Ella at her cottage. He wondered if he’d ruined everything. The thought of losing her was harrowing.
Erik announced himself with his shrill whistle.
“Hold on!” Leif shouted. He wondered why Erik would call around this damn early, especially after a party.
Maybe it had something to do with why Erik had left before the bonfire was even lit.
What Leif needed right now was to swim in the cold seawater to clear his hangover enough for him to think straight.
He grabbed his bathing trunks as he headed for the front door.
Leif stepped outside and shut the door behind him. His eyes squinted in the sunlight. “Why did you leave so early last night?”
Deep lines cut into Erik’s face. He still looked like crap—maybe the worst Leif could remember seeing him. He chomped on his cigar as he said, “I came down with a migraine. Oskar gave me a lift home. And son, you look like crap. Must’ve been one helluva bonfire.”
“Yeah, I guess it started out that way.” Leif watched a jay rush across the lawn. The bird stopped, jabbing its beak into the earth. Leif wished he could jab something. “Ella found out that Inger set her dinghy adrift, and that I’ve known about it all along.”
“Good. Maybe she’ll go back to where she came from,” Erik said roughly.
“Enough.” Leif glowered at Erik. He was always grouchy when it came to tourists, but Leif thought he was being particularly mean toward Ella. “What do you want?”
“Ragnar’s water pump broke. I need you to fix it. You can pick up the part on the way to his place.”
“You’re sending me? Why?” Ragnar was Erik’s best friend and lived on Jomfruland, an island four hours west of Lyng?r, which meant an overnight stay. This job would delay his plans to crawl to Ella’s cottage and beg for forgiveness.
“I’m swamped with service orders.” Erik lit his cigar.
“Ragnar is worse off than the last time we visited him. His arthritis, you know—that bum leg is debilitating. Bring some food and cook him a hot meal, will you? Make sure he has plenty of firewood. In fact, here’s a list of things you can do to help while you’re there.
” He fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over.
“Yeah. OK.” Leif crammed the paper into his pocket. “I better pack and head out now. Just do me a favor, will you? Ask Axel to take over the repair work on Ella’s boats. I won’t have time.”
“No problem. He’ll do it; I’ll count the job as payment for his poker debt. I appreciate you helping Ragnar. You enjoyed our last trip there; why don’t you stay—take a minivacation.” Erik, apparently pleased with the arrangement, was overselling it.
“Right.” Leif looked at the boats anchored to buoys in the narrow channel, his gaze moving to Mia’s store and the clapboard cottages that clung to the shore on Lyng?rsida, where Ella lived.
He decided he’d ask Ella to go with him to Ragnar’s cottage.
It was true that Ragnar might very well have information about her mother, but he was hoping that the suggestion alone would melt her a bit.
If he played his cards right, hopefully four hours together on the way to Jomfruland would complete the thaw.
Leif packed a bag and then drove straight to Ringpynten, where he tied up at Ella’s dock. His mouth was dry. He owed Ella an apology and the truth, even if she might not understand his reasoning. He raised his eyes to the cloudy sky. “Please let this go well.”
As he reached her lawn, Ella rounded the corner of the cottage. She carried a plastic washing bin and wore frayed denim cutoffs layered over flower-pattern tights. He longed to trace kisses over her shapely legs. When she saw him, she halted and stared daggers at him.
“Hey, you. Got a second?” he said.
After what seemed like a lifetime of hesitation, Ella nodded. She set the bin on the low rock wall and pushed her bangles up and down her arm.
Right. Here it goes. “I owe you an apology,” he began.
“You should’ve told me what Inger did.”
“I . . . I think . . . I mean, maybe you’re right, and I am sorry, but it’s not that simple.
I had just met you, and I figured—what good would it have done?
It could’ve caused big trouble with friends I’ve known my whole life.
They’re my family.” Leif raked his fingers through his hair.
“And you’re leaving. I thought it might be best for you to leave with fond memories of Norway instead of . . . you know, nasty ones.”
Her face clouded over, and he knew he hadn’t convinced her.
“I thought you were my friend.”
“Yes, we are friends. Don’t think for a second that I agree with what Inger did. When I found out she loosened your bow knot, I was furious.”
“Loosened it?” She glared at him. “That makes it sound like it was a harmless prank. I was trapped—alone—on an island! It was terrifying.”
“Like I said, Inger was wrong. I feel terrible about what happened to you.”
“Why does everyone put up with her?”
“We’re used to her nonsense. It’s usually harmless.”
Ella threw up her hands. “So she gets a free pass to do whatever she wants?”
“No one was happy about what she did. Like I said, I was livid. I gave her a piece of my mind.”
“Well, that should teach her!” Ella scoffed and lifted the bin from the wall. “What else haven’t you told me?”
“A couple of things, actually . . .” His voice trailed off. Something like guilt crossed his face as he motioned at the cottage. “We had a party here just before you arrived. That scotch we drank when I came over . . . it was Inger’s.”
Ella’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “You turned Ringpynten into another clubhouse?”
“No! When we found out the cottage was going to be sold, we just had a farewell dinner on the patio. It was to say both thank you and goodbye to Inger’s garden.
Spending time here with her plants means the world to her.
We only put on the dinner to let her know that we cared about her losing it. We had no idea that you would show up.”
Ella looked at the flowering herbs as finches darted from the berry bushes to the roses with tangerine seedpods.
The resident porcupine munched on fresh green shoots and eyed the purple rhubarb stalks hungrily.
Dill with lemon-yellow flowers flourished near two fruit trees.
Just looking at the garden calmed Ella. It even soothed the sting of her fight with Leif, and she could begin to understand what this spot had meant for Inger.
She smiled at him, but only slightly. “Now I understand why Inger maybe felt so emotional about it, but she had to know that . . . oh, never mind. None of this is my fault. I wish she would’ve talked to me about keeping the garden and told me how much she loves it.
I probably would’ve let her continue growing things here. ”
“I’m telling you now.”
Ella shook her head in a way that suggested she was disappointed in him. “I’ll be inside while you work on the boats.”
“I’m not here to repair your boats. Axel is taking over the job. I’m headed to Jomfruland for a few days.”
She continued to fidget with her bracelets. “But you’re supposed to take me around Lyng?r to meet people. Plus, I thought you were arranging a time for me to talk to Erik.”
“You’ve forgiven me?”
“Don’t press your luck. What’s in Yum-froo-land?” She pronounced it very carefully.
“Ragnar. Erik’s cousin, a good friend. I’m helping him out with a couple of things. I thought you might like to join me on the trip. You could ask him about your roots—Ringpynten and Sara. He might have some ideas about where you could put Hilda’s ashes.”
“But how would he know anything if he doesn’t live in Lyng?r?”
“He used to live here. He’s Erik’s age. He’s obsessed with birds, and he used to document and trap them on the islands of Lyng?r.
He knows everyone, including tourists, because he used to visit everyone to talk about the birds on their properties.
This might be the lead you’re looking for.
But Ragnar is different, always has been.
He dances to the tune of his own fiddle. ”
“You said it’s an overnight trip?”
“Yes, we’ll stay at Ragnar’s cottage.”
She dumped the bin water over the stone wall and drenched the brambles.
“Ragnar is a real talker,” he persisted. “Give him a few drinks and he’ll spill everyone’s secrets.”
“I’ll need ten minutes to pack.”