Chapter 25
The time flew by for Ella on the three-hour boat ride from Ris?r to Ragnar’s place on Jomfruland.
Leif kept Rán steady as he steered the boat through the waves, beyond small islands blooming in the sea, and a pod of plump seals with toffee-colored eyes.
The sight of them calmed her on the choppy waters.
Leif seemed to understand Ella’s need for quiet to process all that happened in Nina’s store.
Incredible that Nina had bought the coat right off her back and ordered two more, paying double what Ella herself would have asked!
Was it crazy to think that she could make a name for herself in Norway?
She felt like she was on a seesaw. One moment she thought she could leverage this opportunity to grow her American business and improve her life—with a foot in both Norway and Colorado, the way some Americans were bicoastal.
The next moment she decided that it was a lot to bite off.
She wasn’t sure that she could make room in her head and heart for anything other than Little Bird.
It was everything she wanted for herself.
But then Leif rested his hand on her thigh and her thoughts and emotions seesawed in the other direction, because she was unexpectedly developing a life in Norway.
She had a business opportunity; she had at least two friends now.
She loved having Leif around. Their relationship, whatever it was, felt natural and comfortable, and their chemistry was strong.
But she couldn’t abandon her life back home, could she?
Leif cut the engine and let the boat drift toward an orange buoy just offshore from Jomfruland. A great gray heron took flight from a small, ice-polished skerry near them.
“It looks different from the other islands,” Ella said.
Around two dozen cottages skirted the shore, each unique in color, size, and materials, but all with equal amounts of charm.
The shore itself was a long stretch of pebble beach.
Some of the polished stones were as large as grapefruit.
Sun-dappled oaks edged a field where sheep grazed on grass carpeted with white flowers.
“Yup,” Leif said. “The Vikings called this island Aur, which means ‘gravel’ or ‘shingle.’ As the glaciers retracted from the coast, they left debris—mostly ice-scoured rocks and silt that formed Jomfruland.” He flung the anchor into the water and secured his boat to the buoy.
He indicated a small wooden rowboat tied up next to them.
“That belongs to Ragnar. I’ll row us to shore. ”
The sun danced and seabirds sang as Ella grasped Leif’s hand to board the rowboat.
With a smile, he guided her to the stern bench.
He placed a cushion there for her comfort, a small but thoughtful gesture that made Ella’s heart race for Leif even more.
The cool salt breeze ruffled his shaggy hair as he sat on the middle bench, reached for the oars, and rowed them to shore.
The bow crunched against the pebbles as Leif beached the boat.
Ella shrugged off her life vest and stuffed it into her overnight bag.
She thought that they’d probably sleep in the same bed tonight, and the thought gave her butterflies.
Thank goodness she had shaved her legs. She combed her fingers through her wild, windblown hair, waiting for Leif, who was barefoot, to step over the bow and into the shallow water.
“May I help you ashore?” he asked.
She nodded. He reached for her waist, lifted her effortlessly, and released her only after her feet were planted securely on land.
A short distance away, a small red cabin bordered the beach.
Two goats grazed on the sod-and-wildflower roof; a third goat descended a plank that stretched from the stone chimney to the ground.
Chewing on blue petals, it let out a bleat.
“This place looks like something straight out of a fairy tale,” she said.
“You don’t have goats on roofs in Boulder?”
“Nope, but I’ll have you know my apartment has a lovely view of a tattoo studio and a record store, right out my living room window.”
“I’d love to see it,” Leif said, and winked at Ella.
She smiled. She tried to imagine him in landlocked Boulder, with vegans, weed, academics, college students, beer bongs, and football games at Folsom Field. What would he do there, with no boats to carve?
“Is that Ragnar’s place?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“What’s he like?”
“Eccentric as hell.”
“Thank goodness.”
Leif laughed and pulled the rowboat farther up onto the beach. He seemed completely unfazed by its weight, dragging it six feet from shore, his muscles flexing. Crouching down, he broke off a sprig of pink blooms and then stood to face her, the delicate petals resting in his strong hands.
“This is scurvy grass. It’s packed with vitamin C. Sailors collected it in bunches and ate the grass aboard ship.” He motioned toward her hair and asked, “May I?”
His eyes lingered on the curve of her lips as she nodded. He moved closer and tucked the flower behind her ear, brushing her ear with his fingers. His touch was electric.
“Mm, I need to adjust this a little,” he commented, and as he wiggled the stem, his hand brushed her cheek.
Another surge of want sparked through her.
She pushed up on her toes and brushed her lips gently over Leif’s.
His face lit up as if he were tickled by her touch.
He kissed her back, then clasped her hand as they strolled toward the cabin.
On Ragnar’s porch, wind chimes clanged and yellow canaries flew inside their standing bird cage. On the far end of the porch, Ella noticed a hammock hanging from a wooden frame and wondered if they could both fit in it.
Ragnar threw open the door and clapped Leif on the back before he’d even had a chance to knock. If Ella had thought that other people she’d met looked like Vikings, they had nothing on Ragnar. He was burly and blond, with a face cut in sharp angles. He even had a sheathed knife clipped to his belt.
“I was expecting Erik. ’Course, the two of you will do,” Ragnar said warmly. The creases deepened around his eyes.
“Something came up for Erik at work. He’s busy, I guess,” Leif explained as he lifted one shoulder.
“For the love of Loki, where are his priorities?” Ragnar let out a deep rumble of laughter before turning to Ella. “Hiya, sweetheart, who might you be?”
“Ella Nilsen.”
“She’s a tourist, visiting from the States,” Leif blurted before he could stop himself. Ella was startled at the label, and it stung.
“No matter, anyone with birds on their shoes is a friend of mine.” Ragnar limped into the cottage and invited them in.
Ella felt right at home, and Ragnar certainly shared her love of birds.
A mural of scarlet macaws spanned an entire wall of his sitting room, and avian anatomy textbooks and several feathers lay on the coffee table.
She felt that the place had good energy, with giant potted plants and a burnt-honey smell.
Ragnar looked at her and tapped his leg, the one he limped along on. “I had a fight with a rock while boating. The rock won. But that’s a story for later.”
Leif rolled his eyes and slid a half gallon of dark booze from his backpack. “I brought you a present.”
“Vodka spiced with Turkish pepper!” Ragnar pumped one arm in the air and let out a coyote-like howl.
“What’s Turkish pepper?” Ella asked.
“A spicy licorice candy,” Leif said. “I added it to the vodka last week. I meant to bring it to the bonfire, but I forgot. We’ll have some before dinner.”
“Good plan,” Ragnar said. “You can fill me in on all the Lyng?r gossip. And Ella, you can tell me what brings you to Norway.”
A bird let out a screech, and Ella scanned the ceiling rafters, looking for the bird.
“That’s Astrid the Wonder Parrot. Ragnar’s bird,” said Leif. “That screech of hers could wake the dead.”
Astrid shrieked again for good measure, then squawked, “Pretty parrot. Pretty parrot. No screech. Love Ragnar.”
“Aw, that’s so cool.” Ella smiled. “It sounds like she understands our conversation.” She craned her neck at the loft again and tried to locate Astrid.
“She has quite the vocabulary,” Ragnar said.
“African grays can collect around one thousand words, and they use them in context. Leif can introduce you to her if you like. I need to check on an injured barnacle goose at the bird station. Leif, give her the tour. Pick some mushrooms for dinner. Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.
” Ragnar pushed aside a pile of Audubon magazines until he found his keys.
He held up the vodka and added, “I’m taking this with me to give it a taste. ”
After Ragnar left, Ella followed Leif down the hallway and listened as he apologized for calling her a tourist. “It won’t happen again,” he said sincerely.
“It’s only . . . I didn’t want him to connect you to Ringpynten just yet.
With Ragnar, it’s all in the timing. Wait until he’s had a few drinks tonight.
He gossips worse than a fishwife when he’s buzzed. ”
She considered this. Maybe Leif had a point. “OK. I’ll be patient.”
At the rear of the hallway, she trailed him into a bedroom. With rose-printed curtains and lace doilies, it looked like it belonged to a genteel resident of the English countryside, not to burly Ragnar on a stone beach.
“You can sleep in here,” Leif said, placing her overnight bag on the bed. “Hope you like it. Ragnar and the bird share the loft.”
“And you?”
“I’ll sleep in a bedroll on the floor.”
“You can sleep next to me. Just don’t get any ideas.” She gave him a flirtatious poke in the chest with her finger.
“Oh, I have plenty of ideas,” he said as he leaned toward her, cupped her face with his hands, and kissed her. His touch sent a shiver dancing up her spine.