When Hanne went out into the main room, Frau Gerlinger strode over and clapped her on the back.
“Gut!” Frau Gerlinger said, grinning. She made muscles and said something that must have meant strong girl.
Hanne smiled.
Frau Gerlinger put on her wraps and opened the door out into the snowy yard. She grabbed a bucket and headed outside. There was another bucket near the door, so Hanne put on her coat, took up the bucket, and followed her.
Frau Gerlinger turned, saw Hanne behind her, and grinned again. “Du bist ein gutes Mädchen.”
Outside, Hanne held both the buckets while Frau Gerlinger pulled aside the heavy wooden cover for the well. Once lifted, it slid to the side on the snow.
It was a good well, made of stone, the edge just lower than waist level with a metal crank to raise the bucket on its rope.
At the sound of the winch, Herr Gerlinger came out of the barn. He came over to the well and apparently asked for a drink. Frau Gerlinger rolled her eyes and began to criticize him even as she pulled up the bucket and handed it to him to drink.
Herr Gerlinger bore the abuse stoically. Hanne did not know what to make of their relationship. To her, it seemed that man and wife created their own new world in marriage, and the world of the Gerlingers seemed to include a lot of scolding. When the argument was over and the buckets filled, Hanne followed Frau Gerlinger back into the house to make supper.
As the water boiled, Frau Gerlinger went outside and killed two cockerels. After scalding them, she and Hanne sat outside in the cold sunshine, plucking the feathers and adding them to a big bag of feathers Frau Gerlinger had already collected.
Frau Gerlinger talked, and though she couldn’t understand the words, Hanne felt sure she was saying that Hanne and her siblings should stay with her. She kept saying, “Gut!” and pointing to Hanne and then pointing to the house and saying, “Gutes Haus.”
Could they stay? It was a strange idea. But if the woman was willing to feed them all, they could stay and work. It was a big farm. Knut’s size and strength would be a great help to them, and once Stieg recovered he, too, would prove himself useful.
It might work. It was an isolated homestead, and the woman’s loneliness made her suspect they had few visitors.
Hanne let herself imagine it. Staying on the big farm in the log house that was so cheerful and bright. Eating eggs and butter every day. Not being in charge of the cooking or the washing. Simply following directions.
She found herself humming as she worked. Smiling.
With Frau Gerlinger’s encouragement, Hanne gutted the chickens. The woman nodded, happy with Hanne’s work.
There was a bowl for the organs, and Hanne thought she meant to save them for chicken stock, but the woman gestured to the black dog who’d come out to watch them.
Hanne gave the old-timer half of the entrails and brought the rest to Daisy in the barn. Daisy seemed to be much recovered, and even rose from the dog bed to hobble over and sniff at the offerings.
It was only then that Hanne realized Knut was not resting in the barn. Her heart lurched. Pal was gone and so was the stoutest of their trail horses. Knut had gone with Owen!
Hanne’s heartbeat blocked up her throat. He was in town! He was in town with Owen, and Owen didn’t know Knut was a wanted man.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. She must take a horse. She must go into town. All the calm contentment she’d felt was shattered.
She strode out of the barn to tell Sissel where she was going when Owen and Knut rode in.
They were laughing about something.
They were fine.
Hanne turned away from them, her hands in fists. She was shaking with fear, and, now, anger flushed through her limbs.
“Hanne!” Knut cried. “Owen bought me candy!”
Knut saw Hanne’s expression and stopped. “Don’t be mad, Sister. He bought some for you, too.”
“Knut! You should know not to go off without telling us!” she said in Norwegian.
“I told him he could come along,” Owen said. He was wearing a new wool poncho to replace the one ruined by Daisy’s blood.
Hanne bit the inside of her cheek. She nodded. She was tired suddenly, very tired of keeping secrets from Owen Bennett.
“I just got scared for a moment.”
“He was fine,” Owen said. “He was with me. We went to fetch the doctor. He wasn’t there, but we left a message for him at the store. They said I ought to come back tomorrow morning.”
“Ah,” she said. “Good. Fine.” She smoothed her sweaty palms on her skirts. “I will go back to helping Frau Gerlinger.”
Owen nodded at her. She felt awkward and stupid.
* * *
AS UPSET AS she had been, Hanne’s distress melted away at supper. It was such a lovely table Frau Gerlinger had set, complete with a pretty cloth embroidered with flowers.
She had had her husband roll in two sawn-off logs from outside, so there were seats enough for them all. Knut took the largest one.
There was chicken stew and a platter of buttermilk biscuits, steaming hot. A bowl of pickled beets was offered, gleaming in a pool of pink vinegar.
Stieg entered from the main bedroom, where he’d slept away the afternoon.
“Brother, you look well,” Hanne said. She brushed a feather from his hair.
“As do you!” he answered. “You are smiling, Hanne. Your face was in a smile, all by itself, just then. That’s a nice thing to see. It has been a long while.”
He turned to the table, laden with food. “Ah, what a beautiful sight,” he said to Frau Gerlinger.
To his surprise, Frau Gerlinger swept Stieg into a hug, and then put him at an arm’s length so she could look him over. She prodded at his belly and felt his limbs, then shook her head. She clearly felt he was too thin.
She ushered Stieg and Hanne both toward the room Sissel was resting in. Then she pointed toward a basin and a piece of store-bought soap, sitting in a porcelain dish. There was also a towel made from a coffee sack. She wanted them to wash up.
Sissel was sitting up in bed, looking through a German picture book for young children. She looked abashed when her siblings came in, and slid the book under the covers.
“Frau Gerlinger pointed me to stay here. I think I am to stay abed,” Sissel said, her voice a bit guilty.
“Rest you should,” Stieg said. “This place is a godsend. How’s your arm?”
“It hurts,” Sissel said.
Hanne pressed her hand lightly over the bandage.
“But it’s not so hot.”
“The ointment smells terrible,” Sissel complained.
“Good,” Hanne said. “Then you know it’s working! You know, Stieg, I wonder if Frau Gerlinger doesn’t want us to stay on.”
“Really?” her brother asked. “How do you mean?”
“I can’t know for sure, but the way she was speaking, it seemed to me she was talking about how we might help her on the farm.”
Stieg puzzled over this as he washed.
“Then Owen wouldn’t have to take us to Wolf Creek,” Hanne said.
“Yes,” Stieg said slowly. “He seems … he seems ready to be free of us.”
Hanne’s breath caught in her chest.
“Yes,” she said. She could not keep sadness from her voice. “I think so, too.”
* * *
HERR GERLINGER DID not speak a word through the meal. In fact, none of them spoke much, the food was too good, and Frau Gerlinger dominated the conversation anyhow. It seemed clear now, to all of them, that she was laying out plans for them to stay on through the winter.
After raisin streusel and coffee, and once the young travelers were so stuffed they had to push back from the table, Frau Gerlinger began to speak to her husband, softly this time. She coaxed and nudged him with her elbow. Much to Hanne’s surprise, a sly smile began to twist at the corners of his mouth. She cajoled him further, and he stood and walked off into the bedroom.
/> Hanne and Owen exchanged a questioning look.
There was an atonal wheezing from the back room. Stieg looked at Hanne with a quizzical expression of alarm—then Herr Gerlinger came out with an accordion! He even played a gallant “ta-da!”
Amazement was spread over the faces of Owen, Stieg, and Knut. Hanne laughed and clapped.
Herr Gerlinger began to play a jolly melody. Sissel came, mouth agog, to stand in the doorway of the bedroom wearing her shift, all modesty forgotten.
Frau Gerlinger was so pleased with their reaction! She pulled Owen to his feet and tried to make him dance with her. He begged off, laughing.
“I can’t!” he said. “I don’t know how to dance!”
“Step aside, then,” Stieg said, rising to his feet. He commenced to jig. He was a wonderful dancer, despite his height and gangly frame. Clearly his headache was gone. He lifted his feet high, dancing furiously. Frau Gerlinger, not to be outdone, began to dance just as fast.
Knut began clapping. His sisters joined in. Sissel came skipping across the floor. She’d thrown her wrap over her shoulders.
“Dance with me!” she said to Knut. “Come on, Brother!”
“Here! Let’s move the table back!” Stieg called.
With the table and chairs pushed against the wall, there was more room.
Knut was no great dancer, but the boisterous, joyful music was difficult to resist. He was up and took his sister’s good hand gently. They began to dance carefully, giggling all the while.
That left Hanne and Owen seated.
Hanne’s feet were tapping to the beat, and she was clapping, too.
She could not expect him to ask her to dance. He had just said he didn’t know how. And she had insulted him by thinking he might leave them.
But then he held out his hand to her.
“There’s not room,” she said over the music, trying to save him from this courtesy.
“They’ll make room,” he answered. And she ventured a look in his eyes. It was hard to read what she saw there, but the eyes crinkled at the corners, and his smile seemed genuine enough. “Come dance if you dare, Hanne Hemstad. I’ll step on your feet for sure.”
She put her hand in his, and it felt wonderful. He drew her up, and took her other hand in his. Their arms made a circuit that lit her heart on fire.
Herr Gerlinger quickened the pace of the song. Owen grinned at her and began clomping side to side. He truly was an awful dancer, but it hardly mattered.
Stieg began to show off, doing high kicks from a squat. Frau Gerlinger encouraged him, shouting, “Ja! Ja! Ja!” Hanne and Owen looked at each other and laughed.
Owen spun her around and around. What joy it gave her to see his smiling face in the center of the whirling room!
Knut bumped into Hanne, and she lost her footing. Owen caught her around her waist.
Now his face was but inches from hers. His breath was hot on her neck. His cheeks were flushed with exertion and happiness. His eyes flashed to her lips, and her eyes went to his. How she wanted to press her lips to his mouth and kiss him. The heat of his body was melting her from the inside out.
And then, abruptly, Frau Gerlinger was cutting in between them. She took Owen’s hands and began instructing him how to jig.
Hanne’s face was red hot. She was glad when Stieg suggested cracking the door open to let some cool air inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Owen could think of little besides the dance as he made his way to Townsend. He’d thought of it all night long, tossing in the straw up in the hayloft while Stieg and Knut snored. He could not shake off the feeling of dancing with her, the whirling, jagged happiness of holding her hands in his and twirling her around the room.
What was he to do now? His resolve to treat Hanne as his patron and deposit her in Wolf Creek was gone. But could he really stay on with her and her siblings? Would they want him to remain connected at all once he’d delivered them to their destination? It was an odd situation.
Owen found the doctor in his office above the saloon. He was a stout, bug-eyed man, bald except for around the ears. Several patients were waiting in his office. When Owen promised they would pay for a house call, the doctor told Owen he knew where the Gerlinger farm was located and would stop by later in the day.
Owen stepped out onto the damp wooden sidewalk. The snow still hadn’t been shoveled off entirely, so there was a narrow path to walk on. It caused some inconvenience, as one had to step aside to let others pass.
He was making his way toward Wheeler and Company Mercantile and Supply, for Frau Gerlinger had given him fifty cents to buy sugar and flour. She was charging them merely twenty-five cents apiece a day for room and board. A bargain at twice that, with the generous meals she provided. Owen intended to purchase the goods with his own money and return her Liberty half-dollar coin to her.
Perhaps he would find a gift for Hanne in the store. Something small. The thought of shopping for her brought a smile.
A lady passed with three young children in tow. To give them room, Owen pressed himself sideways up to the announcement board outside the sheriff’s office.
That’s when he saw the poster.
His face pressed right up against a sketch that had to be of Knut Hemstad, only they had the eyes wrong.
WANTED, the notice read. For a triple murder committed in the country of NORWAY.
Under the drawing was the name KNUT AMUNDSSON.
The poster said the Norwegian government would reward anyone for his capture, dead or alive.
Owen walked away from the poster, as quickly as he could.
He went into the general store and paced around, not able to focus on anything.
“Can I help you, son?” the shopkeeper said. He was an old man wearing two pairs of glasses, one on his eyes and one atop his head.
Owen noted this, but otherwise paid him no mind. He kept pacing.
How could it be? Knut? His real name was Knut Amundsson?
Knut, a killer? It made no sense.
And then it made terrible sense. All of it fell into place. Hanne’s downcast eyes. Her tears of shame.
Owen felt a punch of shock to his chest. Full understanding hit him hard. Hanne was a killer.
“I say, can I help you, young fellow?” the shopkeeper repeated.
“No, sir,” Owen answered.
He went out into the bright, cold sunshine.
Then he shook his head. He reprimanded himself—he needed to act natural and calm. He went back into the store.
“Begging your pardon, sir. I need twenty-five cents’ worth of flour and the same of brown sugar.” The shopkeeper began to measure out the goods. “I couldn’t remember what I’d been sent for, for a moment there.”
The shopkeeper nodded. “Happens to folks all the time. I got one fellow comes two, three times a day. Though I suspect he comes for the checkers as much as for the groceries.”
Owen made himself smile, paid, and took the package under his arm. He exited the store.
Passing by the noticeboard, he pulled off the poster with as casual a manner as he could fake.
He folded it and shoved it under his poncho, into his vest.
The school bell rang down the street. A pretty lady passing by gave him a smile. Townsend seemed a good little town.
He would not be staying.
* * *
BACK AT THE GERLINGERS, Owen found everyone in a cheerful mood. Sissel was up and helping Frau Gerlinger and Hanne to do the wash. The day was cold but crisp, the laundry freezing dry on the line.
He could not meet Hanne’s bright smile, but rode Pal straight into the barn, only dismounting once inside.
Stieg was there, currying the horses.
“Owen, I’m glad to see you,” he said. “The Gerlingers have made us an official proposition, and I want to hear your thoughts. They would like us all to stay here for the rest of the winter. We would help with the chores and cover grocery expenses. In return, we would receive a
place to stay. That’s what I understand, at least. I wish I had more German. And I know it’s an odd situation, but she did mean, I believe, for the arrangement to include all of us if you wanted to stay on—”
“Stieg,” Owen tried to interrupt. “We need to talk.”
“Though, I suppose, she can’t know you are not our family.”
“Listen, Stieg—”
“No, you’re right, she can tell you’re not our brother. But I do believe the invitation extends to us all. And though it would be strange, we could continue our expedition in the spring.”
Owen had given up speaking, waiting for Stieg to talk himself out. He stood with his hands on his hips, facing the snowy yard. Pal’s steamy breath rose beside him.
Stieg finally took in Owen’s reluctance and paused.
“What is it?”
“You could have told me,” Owen said.
He handed over the folded wanted notice.
Stieg unfolded it, his lips pressed thin.
“You could have told me,” Owen repeated, his voice dark with anger.
Stieg’s expression went cold.
“You would have left us,” Stieg said. “You’ll leave us now, see if you don’t.”
“Don’t you put it on me. It’s wrong what you did!”
“Surely you understood we were in trouble. Think of how you found us!”
“I didn’t know it was this kind of trouble!”
“I didn’t know of this bounty here in America,” Stieg said. “This is the first I’ve known.”
“You tricked me!” Heat flushed Owen’s neck.
Stieg’s blue eyes flashed with anger.
“I did nothing of the sort. We had no obligation to tell you of our troubles at home.”
Knut had heard their raised voices and came to the door of the barn. His large bulk blocked most of the sunlight.
“I took Knut to town yesterday, because I didn’t know!” Owen said bitterly. “People might have recognized him. He might have been hurt! Shot!”
“As I said, I did not know there was a bounty for him here in America!”
Knut asked something in Norwegian, and Stieg handed him the poster. Knut stared at his own face, creased by the folds of the paper. His eyes went wide. The paper began to tremble in his hands.