“Any time now, Haakon!” on the driver’s seat Jorgan cradled both reins in his palm.
Sitting beside him, Aven shifted to see what the holdup was. One of the mares stamped a hoof as if impatient herself. Finally Haakon emerged from the house, slamming the door behind him. He fastened the button at his collar, and his short hair was slicked back and combed, the blond color a shade darker in its wetness.
The wagon rocked when he climbed aboard.
Thor looked at him coolly. Jorgan called a command that urged the horses forward. Haakon wedged himself beside the two crates of jelly Thor had packed with care. The arrival of October meant the day of their monthly visit to Sunday service, and the two dozen jars for the raffle would be dropped off while in town today.
With each day a little cooler than the last, gone was the heavy air of summer. In its stead was a cool breeze that swept through the countryside like a welcome friend, making the drive to town more than pleasant.
As the first buildings of Eagle Rock came into view, Jorgan checked his pocket watch. “We’ll be late, I’m afraid. But what’s that when Haakon has nice hair?”
Haakon chuckled. Even Thor showed a small smile.
Jorgan drove the wagon to a stop amid others parked on the flats beside the church. The fenced yard was empty of parishioners, and chatter spilled from the chapel. When Aven turned to climb down, Haakon was there. His touch at her waist was certainly the Sabbath sort, but it was a gentle startling all the same as he helped her down. The men saw to the horses, insisting Aven not wait for them.
Clutching up the hem of her dress, Aven followed the path that wound inside. So warm and crowded was the small building that she tugged her shawl free. The packed room offered few empty seats in the women’s sections, but at the sight of a sparse back row, she edged that way. Aven sat beside a woman who held a babbling baby. The cherub-faced girl sucked on two fingers, and it was no bother when that damp hand reached for her sleeve. Aven wriggled the pudgy fingers and cooed a hello.
The room quieted, and the hymn leader took his place in the center of the open square. He paused when the three brothers came to the doorway and stepped in.
Arriving late, they walked to the empty front pew and sat—a masculine chorus of thudding boots and creaking wood. Their expressions were stoic as light from the overhead windows streamed bright on their sturdy shoulders. Little whispers heralded from the women around Aven.
Norgaards.
Blackbird Mountain.
A woman on her right muttered that they were heathens.
To Aven’s left, two young ladies quietly mused as to which they would marry.
Equal measures of protection and jealousy flushed her skin, yet the comments were no surprise. The business ventures of her hosts were not always genteel, and while the room boasted many a robust farmer, these Norwegian brothers were quite possibly the brawest, most strapping of the lot. Aven cast a subtle glance to the lassies who had spoken, wanting to hint that not all of these Norgaards were for the taking. She should have meant the guarding only for Jorgan, but truth be told, it stretched elsewhere.
Feeling Thor’s gaze upon her, Aven couldn’t bring herself to meet it. Leaning back, Haakon shifted his boots out square, and as he nibbled the tip of his thumb, he stole a glance at the women’s side of the room. His focus shifted to Aven, and he smiled at her. She did her best to ignore him as well.
Behind Haakon sat the young man who had inquired for work. Peter was his name. The man slid a tiny fold of paper inside Haakon’s collar, then leaned back smugly. Gone was the humble demeanor he’d displayed in his asking for work.
A muscle flexed in Haakon’s jaw. Balancing a hymnal with one hand, he reached back and fetched the slip of paper. He set it in the center of the book as the hymn caller addressed the congregation. With slow fingers Haakon opened the tiny paper. His gaze skimmed what must have been written. He smirked and with his blue eyes on the caller’s boots, waited for the man to turn before he flicked the folded scrap into the center of the room.
Aven’s jaw dropped. Jorgan gave his brother a warning glare. A few folks exchanged glances. Even the preacher looked Haakon’s way. Haakon lifted his book some and became very studious of the written songs. Behind him, Peter colored. The hymn leader turned, his boots shuffling over the paper. He looked down but spoke on.
Thankfully, the rest of the service went without mishap. Aven gleaned much from the sermon, and even Thor paid attention when the preacher spoke his way. When the man turned his back, Aven jotted down a few notes to share with Thor later in hopes that it would further bolster him.
At the service end, she was scarcely outside when Haakon mentioned fetching the crates. Aven stood beside the wagon as he lowered the backboard.
“ ’Twas a naughty thing you did in church.” She reached for a crate, but he slid it toward himself, stacked the second atop, and lifted both. “Ye’d be wise next time to be on your best behavior.” Her chastisement felt poorly timed to his kindness.
“I’m always on my best behavior.”
She walked on as he did. “Seeing as that’s bold as brass, perhaps you should try not being on your best behavior now and again.”
He glanced down the dusty road before crossing it. “Fair. Let’s start with this, then. I’ve spoken to Jorgan, and he’s given me some fatherly advice.” Hands full, Haakon used the side of his arm to nudge Aven in the direction he was aiming—a gray, two-story clapboard. “I’m supposed to ask if you wouldn’t mind forgetting about what I said. At the pond that day. I mean . . . for now.” He slowed at the base of the wide steps and waited for her to reach his side again. “That was kind of a quick thing to blurt out, and I didn’t handle myself very well.”
Aven pondered that as they climbed. While his offer of marriage had been a ramshackle one, she sensed he had meant it. In the moment at least. Yet it was an offer that was best laid to rest. So unseasoned was he with bearing life’s trials that it made his proposition to love and to cherish through all circumstances feel fragile as autumn ice. He had much growing to do yet. Such maturing would be best done without a wife and family in need of him.
She’d been praying for a response that would be gentle and honest for them both. “At the moment I could use a friend. And family. I’m a bit short on both of those. If you’ll be my friend, Haakon, I’d dearly love to be yours in return.”
“Of course.” At the top of the steps, he ducked into the building first. “You’re short on husbands, too, you know.”
“Haakon!” The word burst from her the moment she entered and echoed across the empty hall.
Haakon seemed amused by her outburst and not the least bit sorry for his contribution. “I’m just stating what we’re all very aware of.” He paused to speak directly to her. “Just so as not to take you by surprise . . . I would ask you again. Should the chance present itself.” With several other folks coming up the steps, dropping off goods as well, Haakon moved aside.
As fond as she was of this man, she would be wise to take care that the opportunity not present itself. Perhaps in time he would be able to care for a young lady. She prayed it would be so, and perhaps Thor’s actions would show him the way.