Chapter 12

Linden loved Tranum. She studied the idea that had occurred to her over the sink full of breakfast dishes, touching it cautiously as if it was a particularly beautiful but sharp piece of Tiffany glass that someone had laid in her bare hand. It was a lovely thought, even in its splintered, incomplete state, but she wasn't sure that she should curl herself around it without the other half, the I love you, Linden, firmly glued in place.

On the other hand... Linden looked down at her empty fingers that were clutching at nothing. They had spent a lot of her life doing precisely that. Clutching at nothing. The people she had loved, one way or another, had always gone away. Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa Kirstensen-- even that selfish idiot Gordon, whom she realized now that she had never actually loved-- they had all gone away.

Now it was only Rolf. And Tranum.

And she loved Tranum...

Well, so far, so good, Linden thought, taking a stab at her usual optimism. Surely she could touch upon that much of her feelings and not get hurt. That one side of the shiny, little triangle was finished nicely and safe to touch. She loved Tranum and he said that he wasn't going away. He was going to stay in California, just as she wanted.

Wasn't that what she wanted?

Turning to the counter, Linden reached for the glass pot and poured out the last of the decaffinated coffee. It would put something warm in her empty, chilled hands.

She preferred the fully leaded stuff in the morning, relying on the caffeine to stimulate the little grey cells, but because of the maybe baby...

Linden sat down abruptly as she realized what she was thinking. For a maybe, she was altering life-long behavior?

That was probably the next area that she needed to explore, Linden admitted ruefully. Try a few of those useful if-then statements Rolf used in programming on for size: If she was pregnant, then... what?

She loved Tranum and she was pregnant with his baby. That second fact took a little more careful handling. It could definitely cut her if she was careless. But then there was some protection in the idea that she had always wanted children, had planned on having them... eventually. And a child, God willing and the natural order preserved, would not leave as the rest of her family had done. A baby would be with her always.

Linden took a fortifying swallow of the acidic brew. It was still warm but far from tasty. However, it would just have to do. She didn't feel up to making another pot of decaffinated just for herself. Nobody else drank unleaded and it stayed in the pantry unless they had guests. Thank goodness Tabby was the only subtle-minded detective in the bunch, and she was busy. Linden might as well make a public announcement of her pregnancy as be seen drinking decaf.

Okay. She loved Tranum and wanted his baby. That worked because those were two facts that simply were. They were known commodities. She had fallen in love. And then she had gotten pregnant. No decision required. Besides, the maybe baby seemed too far away to be worrying about in an active way.

And she had to remember that Tranum said that he would stay. Not that he loved her, but that he would stay. And in this, she believed him, she thought with a wry grimace. He was far too arrogant to consider lying to her.

But marriage? To a walking anachronism? That was a more immediate dilemma. Tranum, bless his persistent heart, was not just going to give up on the idea and quit pushing her. Give up? He probably never used the two words side by side. Linden looked over at the ragged bundle of purple geraniums that Tranum had brought her at breakfast and found herself smiling unexpectedly. The stems had been brutally sundered by an axe and they had wood chips clinging to their fuzzy leaves. There was no bow and no floral wrap. No greeting card or love letter.

Under seven pairs of amused and curious eyes, her unromantic love had handed them to her and said: "Here are your flowers, Linden. Sorry, there are no roses right now. Are those blue-berry muffins?"

It was not the declaration of undying love she had been looking for. Not by a long shot. And that was the real cutting edge of her dilemma. If she felt reasonably certain that she had Tranum's love-- that he even knew what love was-- she would take the chance of marrying her illegal alien, illiterate, Amish Viking who promised to stay with her-- just as she wanted.

How unfortunate that she wasn't reasonably certain.

Linden stirred and looked at the clock. Eleven-thirty! Where had the morning gone? It was almost time to start making lunch. She was going to have to start taking some iron pills or something. Maybe trying to get a little extra sleep -- although how much good that would do, she didn't know, what with being plagued by her nightly dreams of abandonment. She woke in the mornings feeling like she'd run a marathon or tried swimming home from Hawaii.

She slipped off the bar stool and walked over to the window above the sink that faced onto the patio. She had a feeling that she might end up spending a lot of time during the next few weeks looking out that particular window. The view of Tranum working, stripped to the waist and agleam with sweat was certainly an appealing one.

Linden pulled the curtains back and took a quick look around. Petr and Tabby were there, still stubbornly sawing through the huge beams with the two-handled saw. And the three profs were taking a linguistic break while perching on a portion of the uncarved keel and comparing note books. Where was-- Ah, Edred was napping under a trap.

But where was the dynamic duo of Rolf and Tranum? The illustrious leaders had disappeared some time in the last half of an hour while she had been brooding.

She turned away from the sink window and walked over to the refrigerator door, suddenly feeling very uneasy. Where could the two of them have gone? And just what were they up to? They hadn't said anything about needing to go into town for building materials, and the van was still parked outside.

Linden pulled out the makings for turkey and avocado sandwiches and started assembling lunch for the sweating horde. They would be eating out on the patio, she decided, where they wouldn't need to wash up and there was a breeze to deflect most of the scent of their labor.

She tried not to think about what Rolf was doing with, or to, Tranum. It was, as Sherlock Holmes insisted, a waste of time to theorize in advance of the facts. Especially since worrying about the possibilities could give a nervous person hives, and there would no doubt be plenty of time to worry about whatever it was later. And Tranum could take care of himself. He was growing more sophisticated every day... Or so she assured herself as she began peeling avocados.

The clerk in the wholesale mart had entered into the spirit, if not the actual discussion, of selecting an appropriate engagement ring for Linden. That meant that the trays of the usual, expensive diamond solitaires had been by- passed in favor of brighter, and in the main, less costly eye-catchers. The clerk had made the effort expected by his manager to guide his clients to the high priced emeralds and rubies, but gave up once Rolf explained that amber was the stone of choice in Tranum's country.

The manager was also a firm believer in not antagonizing the customers by insisting on a particular piece when they obviously had their hearts and budgets set on something else.

After a long argument and a display of a variety of colored semi-precious stones, including a meekly offered substitute topaz that both Rolf and Tranum found repulsive, Tranum had also been persuaded to give up on the idea of an amber ring. The fact that amber was nowhere to be found was a considerable prop to Rolf's foundation contention that they had to find some other stone, as modern brides didn't wear yellow gems, not even lucky amber.

The field of possible candidates had slimmed considerably, several large pieces being rejected out of hand as too impractical for a woman who was as active as Linden, and a handful more being declined because they were unlucky. That included a blood red garnet that Rolf had especially liked, but had to admit was just as inappropriate as the yellow topaz.

The final leg of the ring race was between two bands, both size five-- a requirement since Tranum did not want to take the time to have the ring sized before presenting it to Linden, and his accurate eye told him that the more abundant size sixes were simply too large for any of her fingers. One was a pale blue aquamarine, favored by Rolf, and the other a smooth tiger-eye set flush within a brushed gold band. It was the closest thing to amber that Tranum could find, and it was not, strictly speaking, yellow.

Tranum agreed reluctantly, as Rolf held the aquamarine up to his face as a comparison and demanded confirmation for the third time, that the color was very pretty and did indeed match his sister's beautiful eyes.

But, he countered, didn't Rolf find the depths of the tiger-eye to be fascinating-- and a match for Linden's golden hair!

The two of them exchanged a friendly glare across the blue velvet pillow and the untouched jeweler's loupe where the rings were being displayed.

"Excuse me," interrupted the polite voice. The clerk had grown careful of entering the vociferous dispute held in a foreign language. It had been dinned into his head by the store manager that it was rude to intrude on patrons when they were having fun arguing, but it was well past his lunch hour and he had just recalled a candidate stone that was both blue and had the depth of a tiger-eye-- and was also more expensive than either of the rings they arguing over, which meant a better commission for him as well as a lunch break.

"I know that some consider them to be bad luck--" he began.

"Ssh! Don't mention that word!" Rolf advised.

"Huh? Okay... But what about this? An opal." The young man pulled out a small grey box he had prepared in the back room for the sake of display, and opened the lid. Resting inside was a dark blue opal, long, tear shaped and criss-crossed with an emerald green fire.

"Ah!" Tranum pounced on the ring. "This is beautiful. See the lightning? There is power in this stone."

Rolf muscled in on the small box for a better look.

"Wow! That is a beauty," he agreed.

"Is there any curse attached to this stones?" Tranum asked, and Rolf reluctantly translated.

"Not a one," the clerk replied promptly. Tongue in cheek, he added: "Curses cost extra. Now some superstitious people--"

"Hush!" Rolf warned again. "He is very superstitious."

"Oh..." The clerk looked crest-fallen at the possible loss of sale. "Is the lady also a believer in stone power."

"Doubt it."

"What does he say, Rolf?" The clerk heard the suspicious tone and rushed on quickly. The situation was possibly salvagable. He had a one in twelve chance. Or he could lie. He wondered if the manager would approve of lying in a worthy cause.

"When is the lady's birthday?"

"Uh... October."

"Well, there you go!" The young man grinned happily. "It's her birthstone. Nothing could be luckier."

Rolf quickly translated the news to Tranum, explaining the concept of birthstones associated with certain months of the year.

He nodded with pleasure. "Now we will agree on a price," he announced.

"We don't usually... Ah, but what the hell! It does no harm to bargain, correct?" And with that, Rolf launched himself into one of his favorite pass-times. He was an old hand at horse-trading and found that the principals of negotiation were the same, even in a jewelry store.

By agreeing to buy the wedding band at the same time, the marked price was knocked down considerably and they emerged some ten minutes later with two gift-wrapped boxes, and an extra fifty dollars in their pockets.

Tranum also received his first lesson in the use of plastic money. A concept that he did not entirely approve of, but admitted was practical.

In the mood to commemorate their triumph over commerce, they stopped off at McDonalds for a celebratory milkshake and fries, and Rolf helped Tranum map out a master plan for wooing his sister.

They agreed on everything except the time-table. Tranum was adamant that they marry as soon as it was possible, but Rolf hadn't forgotten Tabby's warning about Linden wanting a wedding gown. He explained about the importance some women put on having a fancy white dress all covered in lace.

Tranum snorted and said that Linden was too practical to want such a thing.

Rolf countered that Linden was practical but stubborn, and he disagreed that she would give up the notion of a wedding gown without a fight. She was a female after all.

But being reasonable men, they finally decided that only Linden could settle this problem, and there was no possible way to know what she would choose to do. And there was always outletmall, they thought with touching, male naivete, if she wanted to buy a new dress.

Rolf's final piece of advice was to spring the ring on Linden in front of their guests, his theory being that she was less likely to reject it and Tranum when she had an audience.

Tranum said he would think about it.

Rolf's plan had merit, but his inclination was to approach Linden alone. Perhaps after making love to her. She was usually groggy and very agreeable at such times... Or perhaps he should break his own rule this once and ply her with wine until she was too confused to resist. He was willing do just about anything to get an agreement from her.

Linden looked up from the kitchen sink and saw right away that Rolf and Tranum had returned to swell the work force. The second thing she saw was the milkshake cup resting in the shade of post, safely out of flying wood-chip range.

"Get wisdom: and with all the getting get understanding," Grandma Kirstensen's voice quoted Proverbs in her head. She followed up with John 8:32. "Ye shall know truth, and the truth shall set you free."

Linden found herself smiling at the innocent explanation for their absence. True, it was rude of them to have gone off for lunch without telling her or inviting the other's along, but maybe they had needed to have a private pow-wow about something on the boat and had wanted to shake off the profs for a while.

Probably Tranum had suggested McDonalds as an appropriate meeting place, she thought with a smile.

Linden reached out for the dish towel and dried her hands. The laundry could wait and she had already fixed a macaroni salad for the side at dinner. Perhaps it was time for her to step outside and try her hand with the wood axe or two-handed saw. She had always had a way with the splitting mal. Surely the same principles applied to keel carving at this early, crude stage.

Tranum watched Linden throughout the afternoon, ready step in and take the axe from her if she looked to be exhausting herself to the point of carelessness. But his Valkyrie was quite efficient in her work and did not tire herself by working too hard at the beginning, and having nothing to draw on in the end. He was pleased with her strength.

Eventually, the sun shifted in the sky and the axe was put aside. She stripped off her gloves and ran a hand across her brow. There were a number of wood chips snared in her golden tresses.

"I'm going to have a shower," she said in Danish. "And then I'll start dinner. You have maybe forty minutes before burgers hit the grill," she warned Tabby.

Tranum watched his Valkyrie as she walked away. He had grown to like the trews she wore over her fine legs. They gave a man something pleasant to watch while working.

Carefully, he put his own adze aside. He decided that he would shower, too. The shower seemed an excellent place to have little private conversation with Linden.

"Hello." There was a current of cool air as the silvered head appeared over the shower door. "I have decided to join you, pretty Linden."

Linden turned and smiled up at her Viking through the rising steam. His cat eyes were gleaming in the slanting light of the afternoon sun.

"Hello. Please do." She pushed gently at the glass door and Tranum stepped inside. The space was crowded with two of them in the small stall, but neither minded sharing the water's spray.

"What do you have there?" Linden gestured to his tightly closed fist. She glanced at the shower caddy and its plethora of colorful cleansing products. Tranum enjoyed variety when he showered and saw no reason not to have her entire decorative soap collection at his disposal. Along with some dish washing liquid and hand lotion. "Is it a new soap?"

"No." He was smiling widely now, causing his mustache to curve enticingly. "It is a gift for you, pretty Linden."

"A gift?" she asked, somewhat startled and then pleased. "Really?"

"Yes." There was a wealth of satisfaction in his voice. "Do you wish to see your gift?"

"Yes, please." She couldn't imagine what Tranum could have brought her. It was too small to be another mangled flower.

His large, scarred hand lifted above the water's main force and then opened. Caught in a strand of sunlight, an opal of darkest blue laced with emerald fire glowed in his palm.

"Tranum!" Linden's exhalation was not a sigh. "It's beautiful! How did you know that I love opals?" Then common-sense returned in a disappointing rush. "Where did you get this ring?"

"Outletmall. Leif Kirstensen has his own account at the magic money machine and also a credit card. We took the money and bought you a promise present."

"Tranum... That's very sweet." Linden blinked. Once again there were undercurrents in their conversation. Something that she could sense but not see. She was wary of these blind spots, but...

"Which finger do you like, Linden?"

"Which finger?" Linden collected herself. "It depends--"

"Which finger is for the promise?"

"The promise?" she repeated blankly.

"This is a promise ring," Tranum explained. "An engagement ring, Rolf called it. Which is the correct finger?"

Linden swallowed uneasily and told herself that it was just a ring, and just a finger. Besides, she still had free- will. A piece of jewelry could not compel a certain behavior. It was a ring, not a manacle... but she didn't really believe it. If she put on that band, especially on her third finger, left hand, she was committed.

Those that talked about the human freedom of spirit had obviously never been in love and had the object of their affection place an engagement ring on their finger, or they would not be so blithe when they talked about free-will, she thought indignantly, looking up into her lover's happy eyes.

Mutely, Linden held up her left hand and waggled her ring finger. Tranum seized her wrist and quickly slipped the stone in place. It fit perfectly and it looked like it belonged there... much as a yoke fit on oxen.

"So, that is our promise," Tranum said before he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. The embrace felt like equal parts of love and triumph. "This pleases me greatly, Linden, that you have made this promise to marry me."

"Okay," she finally agreed when she could draw breath. "It's a promise, but--"

"Good. Then we will go to Nevada and marry."

"Wait!" Linden took a breath and steeled herself. Stopping Tranum was like rushing the tide with a broom and trying to beat it back, but Linden made the effort. She had to have more time!

"I do not wish to wait," he announced, not unexpectedly.

"Well, you must," she answered firmly. "It is almost the autumn. The..." Linden searched her brain and came up with the word. "The solstice. Rolf always makes a celebration for that and I need to help him."

It was true enough that Rolf would need help this year, Linden consoled herself. She just hadn't previously offered to celebrate the rite with him.

"I need time to prepare for this. To harvest from the garden... and other things." She couldn't think of exactly what the other things might be and hoped he wouldn't ask.

Tranum frowned, his eyes growing serious.

"Especially since this year the men of learning are with us. We must make a good celebration-- and I know that Rolf will want your help with the ceremony," she went on, feeling a little desperate, and not knowing what she would do if he continued to press her.

"When is the solstice?" he asked at last, his tone unhappy.

"Um..." Linden thought about it as she pulled up her mental calendar. She hadn't been counting anything except the days of her menstrual cycle. "One week."

Linden heard what she said and almost winced. One week was not very long for her to get her head screwed back on and decide what to do.

"Seven days," Tranum clarified. He reached for her hand and drew it up to eye level to admire the ring he'd placed there. "Very well. We will wait for the solstice. Then we will go to Nevada and marry. And you will not fuss about a new dress."

"Uh..." Linden stared at the promise ring, not understanding at first what he meant about a new dress. "Okay. Yes, one week."

Surely in seven days she could make up her mind about what was best to do-- and she had her grandmother's wedding gown, if she chose to wear it.

"It is better to marry than to burn," Grandma Kirstensen scolded from Corinthians. "Even to a Viking?" her mind whispered back.

Grandma didn't answer.

Club Valhalla

Copyrighted (c) 2002 Melanie Jackson

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