Shining Water 01 - The Icecutter's Daughter (16 page)

“So do you think he’s dangerous?”

“No, not that. At least I have no reason to think so. Nils is more . . . more . . .” Rurik sighed and tried to think of how to express that his best friend had always found ways to use the people around him to his best advantage. There didn’t seem to be a kind way, however.

“As children, Nils and I were always good friends. That friendship carried on into our adult years. However, it has
not been without its problems. Nils has always been a person who sought to advance himself in whatever manner required as little effort as possible on his part. First through his family, and later with me. I’ve never yet seen him strike out for himself. Even his coming here was prompted because he knew I would take pity on him.”

“Doesn’t sound very honorable.”

“I think Nils lacks the kind of ambition that causes a man to do for himself.”

“I suppose if you’re right, we won’t have much to worry about.”

Rurik shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Merrill Jean would never find herself coupled with a man like you’ve described. She’s too driven—too hardworking. She would expect her mate to be the same. She’s a good discerner of people.”

Rurik felt himself relaxing. Tobe was right. Merrill was a woman who knew her own mind. He could tell she wasn’t that enthralled with Nils at the party. She never showed him more than a moment’s attention at work. Perhaps he was worrying for nothing.

“So your father would take into consideration what your sister desires in a husband?”

Tobe laughed. “He wouldn’t dare do otherwise.”

Merrill washed and dried the last of the supper dishes, pausing long enough to put her hand to the small of her aching back. Despite having stayed home to cook and feed
the workers, she was every bit as tired as if she’d been out cutting ice. Her only thought was to make her way to bed.

She gave the kitchen one last check. Seeing that everything was in order, she made her way to the front room in order to tell her father good night. She stopped short, however, when she heard her name mentioned and then Nils Olsson.

“He asked me if he could court her,” Merrill’s father said. “I told him I wasn’t opposed, but that the decision lay with Merrill.”

“Well, Rurik said he’s not necessarily a good choice for her,” Tobe replied.

“Why is that?” Flynn asked. “They seemed to be having a good enough time at the party.”

“Rurik told me Nils lacks direction. He doesn’t seem to want to do for himself, but instead counts on others to make things good for him. Said Olsson has been that way since they were boys.”

Merrill heard the conversation continue, but her mind whirled with indignant thoughts. How dare Rurik Jorgenson, a man of questionable character himself, besmirch the reputation of his lifelong friend?

Had she not been so tired, Merrill might well have stormed into the room and given her brothers and father a piece of her mind. But the fight could wait until the morning, and then perhaps she should take the matter directly to the one who had caused her grief. She had no desire to court Nils Olsson, and she could not deny that she at least previously had feelings for Rurik Jorgenson. But she was no man’s fool. Neither man was going to take advantage of her good nature.

Merrill got her opportunity to speak to Rurik the very next day. She had already completed the pie safes and blanket chests, but she had baked fresh bread and strudel and wanted to bring some for Carl. Yet she was disturbed by the fact that Rurik would also benefit from her generosity. Right now she felt anything but generous toward the man.

Most of the men at the shop were busy in the main work area when Merrill arrived. Since it was morning, Nils had not yet showed up for work—exactly as Merrill had planned. She had thought it might be difficult to get Rurik away from the others, but when she made her presence known, Rurik rather naturally followed her from the busy work area.

“I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Rurik said.

Merrill walked from the staining room and stopped close to the office. Rurik halted a short distance from where she stood and gave her a smile. “I see you have a basket on your arm. Am I correct in supposing you’ve brought us something good to eat?”

“I thought Carl might like some fresh bread and strudel.”
Her tone was clipped. She gave him a hard look. “But I had hoped to have words with you first.”

“Words?” He chuckled. “Sounds rather ominous.”

Merrill didn’t appreciate his good humor. “I know all about you, Rurik Jorgenson. I know that Svea is with child, and that you are refusing to honor your betrothal. I overheard you tell your uncle that you didn’t intend to do anything about it. That it was her problem.”

She paused a moment. A black cloud seemed to settle over his features. She went on. “I find such behavior appalling and certainly uncalled for—especially by a man who calls himself a Christian.

“Furthermore, you have no right to be suggesting to my brother that Nils Olsson is unworthy of my attention. I overheard my brothers and father discussing it last night, and I was dumbfounded that you would dare to say anything against Mr. Olsson—a man who so obviously esteems you. He has been your lifelong friend, but I suppose if you would do such an abominable thing to his sister, you would have no compunction about betraying him.”

Rurik watched her silently. Merrill felt a bit unnerved by his steady stare, but continued anyway. “I want you to stay out of my affairs, nevertheless. It’s none of your business if Nils Olsson wants to court me. I don’t know why you took it upon yourself to say anything, but I won’t tolerate it again.”

She fell silent and realized she was panting for breath. For several long moments Rurik said nothing. His expression and the look in his eyes continued to make her uneasy.

“Well?” Merrill finally spoke. “Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

“It seems to me that you’ve said it all. You don’t care about the truth, obviously. You’ve come here with your mind made up. You’ve judged me and condemned me, all without benefit of hearing my side of the matter.”

His comment caused Merrill to stammer for words. “Why . . . you . . . I mean . . .”

He held up his hand. Merrill shook her head and felt her anger mount. He said, “I can’t abide women who eavesdrop and gossip. I thought better of you, but apparently you make a habit of it. You referenced such action two times just in this conversation—or shall I say, tirade?”

Merrill pulled back as if he’d slapped her. Before she could speak, however, Rurik continued. “I might add—not that I expect you to care—that it was your brother Tobe who asked me about Nils and his character. I neither brought up the matter nor elaborated on my concerns. Furthermore . . .” He turned and stalked across the room, pausing only long enough to look back at her and shake his head. “Svea’s condition is not of my doing.” He walked through the open door and slammed it behind him.

Shocked, Merrill stood silent for several minutes. She stared at the closed door as if expecting Rurik to come back and apologize for his outburst. When he didn’t, Merrill wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or further enraged.

Remembering the basket for Carl, Merrill decided to forget about Rurik’s comments and deliver the food. If what he said was true, then she’d just done him a great injustice—at
least so far as the accusation regarding Svea was concerned. If he was lying to cover his sin, it wasn’t likely she was going to get him to admit it anytime soon. Especially not after his response just now.

Shifting the basket to her left arm, Merrill trod across the yard between the shop and house. A terrible feeling of guilt washed over her. What had she just done? She’d thought herself perfectly justified to call Rurik out on his behavior, but he was right about one thing.

I’ve judged him without hearing his side of the matter.

Merrill bit her lower lip. It wasn’t like her to do such a thing. Why had she allowed her emotions to get the best of her?

She knocked on the door of the house and forced a smile when Carl appeared.

“Oh, Merrill Jean, it’s good to see you. Come in.”

“I thought . . . well . . . I brought you some bread and strudel.”

“What a treat. Would you like me to carry it for you?” He motioned to the basket.

She shook her head. “I can manage just fine. Shall I put it in the kitchen for you?”

“Please. Would you like a cup of coffee to warm up?”

“No, that’s all right. I only stopped by to bring this. I’m actually going to spend some time with Corabeth and Granny. One of the horses needed some attention at the farrier, so I’m biding my time until he’s ready to go.”

“Well, it’s good to see you. I looked over all the pieces you painted. I am impressed with the way you’ve brought added
value to the furniture. I know the buyers are going to be very pleased. We should sit down and discuss what other pieces might benefit from your skills.”

Merrill took out two loaves of bread and placed them on the counter. “Thank you, Mr. Jorgenson. I’m so glad they meet your approval. I must admit I’ve enjoyed the work, and the extra money.”

“Rurik told me he’d never seen such quality work. He’s been most impressed by your ability. Of course, I remember that your mother had quite an artistic flare.”

“She’s the only reason I know how to paint.”

“Well, she taught you well. I know Rurik would join me in saying that your work is of the highest quality.”

Merrill doubted seriously that Rurik would even allow her to return to work after what she’d just said and done. She thought to mention the incident to Carl, but she didn’t want to tax his health.

I don’t know what to do, Lord
.

She felt just as Rurik did about eavesdropping. Why had she allowed herself to get caught up in that most dangerous activity? Even so, she told herself, it wasn’t his place to interfere in the matter of Nils. She didn’t need anyone looking out for her in such a manner. Her brothers had spent a lifetime doing that, and it had gotten her nothing but loneliness and spinsterhood.

Carl was saying something about painting customized window shutters, and Merrill realized she hadn’t been listening.

“I’m sorry. I let my mind wander,” she apologized. “I’m glad you both like the work, and I will look forward to seeing
what else you have in mind,” she said. “Now tell me, how are you feeling these days?”

Carl Jorgenson straightened a bit. “Better. A little stronger all the time. Rurik coming here was a gift from God.”

“I’m sure you feel that way.”

He nodded and sat down to the kitchen table where he’d been drinking coffee. “I know your father has benefitted, too. He told me the other day that he had never seen anyone take to the ice as well as my nephew.”

“Yes, Father said he works very hard.”

“Ja, that’s for sure.”

“What do you know about Nils Olsson?” Merrill asked, trying her best to sound casual.

“Nils? Oh, I don’t know him so much. You’d do better to ask Rurik. They’ve been friends for a long time. I met Nils long ago back in Kansas, but never had many dealings with him or his family. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged and placed the strudel on the counter before she picked up the empty basket. “No reason. I just wondered how things were working out for you . . . with him, I mean.”

“He seems to know what he’s doing. He’s learning fast enough.”

“I’m glad. I’m glad, too, that you have the extra help. I’m sure it’s been a great concern to you.”

“Having Rurik here puts my mind at ease. I signed papers to make him a full partner, you know.”

She nodded and forced a smile. “Well, I need to go. I promised Granny Lassiter that I would spend some time with her and Corabeth today.”

“Could you do something for me?” Carl asked, heading over to the cabinet. “I have a couple of her dishes. Would you mind taking them back?”

“Not at all.”

He brought her two plates. “Tell her she can refill them anytime she likes.”

Merrill took the plates and headed to the door. Carl followed after her. “Thank you for the food. God has definitely provided for my every need through the hands of the townswomen. You ladies are definitely serving His purpose.”

A frown edged her lips, but Merrill didn’t turn. “I hope so,” she murmured. But after her earlier encounter, she wasn’t at all sure.

Rurik let his anger settle down while he focused on sanding the top of a sideboard. He didn’t want his rage to ruin the piece, nor did he want to dwell on his earlier encounter with Merrill. He wasn’t at all sure why things had gone as they had. It was obvious that Merrill had been thinking about the matter for some time. At least where the issue of Svea was concerned.

He knew without a doubt exactly when it was she’d overheard him speaking to Carl. It was that day that they’d come back to the house and found food in the kitchen. Carl had mentioned it was Merrill’s doing, but he hadn’t thought her to be in the house when they’d returned. No doubt when she heard their discussion, she’d exited by way of the back door so as not to be seen or to cause them discomfort. He supposed, given the conversation, she had a right to assume
him to be at fault. Even so, she could have just confronted him about it rather than hurl accusations.

“Of course, I might not have handled her assumptions and questions any better,” he muttered.

When lunchtime came, he put aside his work apron and decided to go to the post office and pick up the mail. Maybe there’d be a letter from Aron, although he doubted his brother would have had time to get back with an answer already.

At the post office, Rurik waited behind two other customers before asking for his mail. The postmaster nodded and went to retrieve it.

“Looks to be all business today,” he said, handing three letters over.

Rurik looked at the addresses and nodded. “It does at that.”

“So have you set your wedding day?” the man asked in a casually friendly manner. There was no one else in the store, so he’d already gone back to sorting through a stack of mail. “I’m sure you and that pretty little Olsson girl are going to make a nice couple. Will you live here in Waseca?”

Rurik forced his anger back. “I’m not getting married. I’m not even engaged.”

The man looked up from his work. “Do tell? I was sure I heard that little gal tell someone that you two were to be married.”

“We were once in an arranged betrothal, but that was ended before I came to Waseca. If anything else is being said . . . well, it’s not true.”

“I see. I’m sorry if I raised some unpleasantness,” the man said, seeming to watch Rurik for his reaction.

“Gossips will say what they will. I hope you’ll do what you can to dispel such rumors.”

The man nodded and scratched his chin. “I reckon if anyone else comments on it, I will set the record straight.”

Rurik tucked the letters in his pocket. “Thank you.”

He left the post office and tried to figure out what he should do. He needed to make it clear to everyone that he had no intention of marrying Svea Olsson. The thought of standing up in church to make a declaration came to mind. Maybe that would settle things once and for all. Of course, it would be very embarrassing for Svea, and it wasn’t his desire to draw attention to her and her condition.

Then without warning, there she was, standing in front of him. Rurik felt like he was seeing a ghost. He frowned down at her.