Chapter 25 #4
“Whoa!” Ragnar held up his hands. “You’re Sara’s daughter?” He shoved his bangs to the side. “Here I am going on about Sara, and you’re her daughter.” He yanked his knife from the sheath clipped to his belt and cut into the apple while scowling at Ella and Leif. “Someone should have told me.”
“Maybe someone should have kept their mouth shut,” Leif growled, his eyes sharp and angry.
Ragnar scoffed. “I’ve been out of the loop since I moved from Lyng?r to Jomfruland. But why didn’t Erik mention this when I called him yesterday?”
“He didn’t know I was bringing Ella here,” Leif said, defensively.
“Save it.” Ragnar glared at Leif, then motioned at Ella with the knife. “When you arrived today, I asked what brought you here. You should have told me you were a relation of the Nilsens at Ringpynten. Instead you came into my house and you tricked me.”
“No I didn’t. I told you I was staying at Ringpynten.
” She almost blamed Leif, but he hadn’t forced her to stay quiet.
The decision had been hers alone. “I had no idea you knew my mother. I came to Norway to sell the cottage and put my grandma to rest. But then I found Sara’s belongings and wanted to know more about her. ”
“Can’t help you.” Ragnar speared the apple slice with the tip of the blade.
“You must know more,” Ella said, her heart thumping.
“Nope.” Turning to the parrot, Ragnar said, “Can you believe these two? This one’s mom and that one’s dad were friends, and neither one of these kids had a clue.
” He looked at Leif. “Did you have a clue, boy?” Before Leif could answer, Ragnar snickered at Ella.
“You, sweetheart, should be asking Leif these questions.”
“Me?” Leif’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Why would I know anything? If I did, I would’ve told her.”
“Like you told me about the dinghy?” Ella frowned.
“Wait a minute—I already explained and apologized. You accepted.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she said, looking down.
“Well, look here, there’s trouble in paradise,” Ragnar said. He let out a bark of laughter.
“Trouble in paradise!” repeated Astrid.
Leif glowered at Ragnar suspiciously. “Did you know anything about her having a baby?”
“Arnesen, I don’t care for your tone. And no, I never heard Sara was pregnant.”
“But you have Sara’s blanket.” Ella slid the picture from her pocket.
“Blanket. What’re you talking about?” Ragnar asked.
“I found this at Ringpynten. Look at the blanket.”
Ragnar glanced at the photo. “Don’t know.” He cracked his neck and flared his nostrils in a defensive way.
“I saw my mother’s blanket on your bed upstairs. If you don’t believe me, look at the embroidery.” With a quick jab of her finger, she gestured at the loft. “My mother’s initials are on your blanket. How did you end up with it?”
Ragnar pressed his lips into a thin line. He yanked the knife from the apple and sheathed it.
“Astrid’s blankie. Astrid’s blankie,” screeched the parrot. She flew from her bird gym and landed on Ragnar’s shoulder.
“Please tell me what you know.” Ella closed her eyes in frustration and counted to five. “What happened to my mother? Knowing would mean the world to me.”
Ragnar stared at the window. Beyond it, lowering clouds veiled the sky. Ella gave Ragnar a pleading stare, tears threatening to spill.
“Sara was my mother, and I know nothing about her. Remember her mother, Hilda? That’s who raised me, without ever telling me anything about Sara. I’d never even heard of Ringpynten until after my grandma died.”
Ragnar’s eyes softened. He covered his mouth with his hand and seemed to come to a decision. “Fine,” he sighed. “The fellas were enchanted by Sara. They acted like fools whenever she was around and tried to outdo each other at every turn.” He suddenly shook his head solemnly. “No, I can’t do this.”
“Outdo each other, how?” Ella held her breath, waiting for an answer.
“I’m done talking,” Ragnar clenched his jaw.
“I assume my father and Erik were some of the fools in question?” Leif said, scratching the base of his neck.
“It’s not my story to tell.”
There was a moment of silence. Ella sucked in a sharp breath.
“You don’t think we’re siblings, do you?” she said. Ragnar and Leif laughed.
“Leif’s dad was injured badly playing hockey,” Ragnar grabbed at his groin and gave a mock wince of pain. “Surgery didn’t help. Bjorn was sterile.”
“Stop, that’s too much information.” Leif grimaced. “Ella. Remember I was born before you were. It happened while my mum was pregnant with me. It’s impossible that we’re brother and sister.”
“That’s terrible about your father . . . but thank goodness we’re not related.” To Ragnar, she said, “When was the last time you saw Sara?”
“Decades ago. But as I said, it’s not my story to tell.”
“Whose story is it?” She tented her fingers together in front of her, as if praying. “Please, I’m desperate to know.”
“I can’t.” Ragnar turned his back on them both and walked to the bird gym.
She was prepared to beg for answers if she thought it would help, but he seemed to have completely shut down. Fighting off tears, she downed her shot. Maybe it would numb her disappointment over encountering yet another dead end in her hunt for facts about Sara.
“Come on, Ragnar. Whose tale is it?” Leif narrowed his eyes at Ragnar. “Give me a name.”
Ragnar rubbed his bad leg and looked at Leif. “Talk to Erik.”
“I’m exhausted,” Ella announced. “I’m going to skip dinner and go to bed. Good night.”
Alone in Ragnar’s guest bedroom, Ella put on her nightgown and cocked her head at the door to try to eavesdrop on the two men down the hall, but she couldn’t follow their hushed conversation in Norwegian.
How well did her mom and Bjorn and Erik know each other?
Did she have a serious boyfriend? Did Ragnar ever meet him?
But Ragnar seemed intent on not sharing what else he might know.
Snatching her hairbrush from the nightstand, Ella threw it hard at the door in frustration.
Several sleepless hours later, Leif entered the pitch-dark room and lay down next to her on the bed, rustling the sheets. She could smell his spearmint breath when he turned to face her.
“Ragnar’s a fool,” he said.
“Yes, he’s an idiot.” Ragnar’s refusal to open up about Sara upset Ella—so much that she felt the urge to pick a fight with Leif.
But that would just push him away further, which would make an already awful situation worse.
Ragnar’s silence wasn’t Leif’s fault. Instead, she wished Leif good night.
His breathing had deepened in a way that suggested he’d already fallen asleep.
She looked out the window; there wasn’t a star in the sky.