Read Online An Untamed Heart by Lauraine Snelling - Free Book Online
Authors: Lauraine Snelling
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during the long winter nights when they gathered around the kitchen table to study or work on whatever handwork needed doing. Ingeborg often spent those hours at the spinning wheel kept in the corner, where the firelight cast a warm glow and heat to match.
She drowsed and pictured life at the seter. Something good always happened during their time up there. And sometimes crises too. Just like life everywhere. What would happen this year?
6
O SLO , N ORWAY
Would the end of the term never arrive?
Nils stared out the window into a downpour that a few weeks ago would have blanketed the world in white. At the moment, going out into the wet sounded like something close to taking a beating. All he could think about was getting out of Oslo and leaving behind the drudgery of school, at least for a couple of months. Of course, thinking of trekking up in the mountains only served to remind him of the latest altercation with his father.
Had they been in fisticuffs, the verdict would have been a draw. But they used words instead of fists, and words left far more severe wounds, wounds that bled but did not heal. Turning from the window, he sighed and shook his head. He’d promised to attend all his classes, turn in all the assignments, and give studying his best. If he really knew what his best was. But then, perhaps he was learning that his best in the classroom was not sufficient to be at the top of the rolls. How could he do better?
That wasn’t the real question, though, he had to admit. The real question was how could he make himself care about the outcome to the exclusion of all else? Or anything else? The mountains kept singing siren songs.
If he got his grades up—to the point that it was possible this late in the term—he would have a bargaining chip. In return, he could indeed spend the summer in the mountains rather than in the offices of his father’s business—the company he was meant to take over after training.
But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life running a business that cannot capture my dreams at all . Hiking in the mountains was not a lifelong ambition. He kept hoping he would outgrow that desire, as his father had suggested rather forcibly. But he kept hearing the mountains calling to him.
Nils stopped in front of the mirror. He looked haggard, as if he’d been out shouting Skol! with Hans and other drinkers, not only one night too many but for weeks. The disgusting part was that he’d been studying till the wee hours, not partying. Though he realized he would have a hard time convincing his father of that, should he happen to see his son in this degree of dishevelment.
Heaving another sigh and at the same time castigating himself for sighing, he snagged his wool coat off the peg and shrugged into it. Book in hand, he trudged down the stairs, clapped his hat on his head, and stepped out into the downpour. If any weather was conducive to staying inside, this was it.
He arrived at the classroom to find a closed door with a note on it: Class Canceled . He slammed his fist against the wall, wishing it were his head instead. All this for naught.
“Oh, for . . .”
The expletive behind him made Nils turn to see who else was willing to say out loud what he’d been thinking. He wagged his head and started back toward the stairs. The other student—what was his name?—walked beside him.
“You interested in the pub on the corner?”
Nils started to say no but changed his mind. “I’ll buy.” He knew the answer was curt but better that than stony silence. Or perhaps not. He turned to say he was sorry, but the other man held up his hand.
“No need. You want to buy, fine, but only the first one.”
They both paused in the doorway. The rain had not let up. Hats back on heads, they hugged the wall as much as they could on the two-block walk and ducked into the pub, shaking huge drops off their hats and coats. Hanging them on the pegs along the wall, they crossed to the stools at the bar,
She drowsed and pictured life at the seter. Something good always happened during their time up there. And sometimes crises too. Just like life everywhere. What would happen this year?
6
O SLO , N ORWAY
Would the end of the term never arrive?
Nils stared out the window into a downpour that a few weeks ago would have blanketed the world in white. At the moment, going out into the wet sounded like something close to taking a beating. All he could think about was getting out of Oslo and leaving behind the drudgery of school, at least for a couple of months. Of course, thinking of trekking up in the mountains only served to remind him of the latest altercation with his father.
Had they been in fisticuffs, the verdict would have been a draw. But they used words instead of fists, and words left far more severe wounds, wounds that bled but did not heal. Turning from the window, he sighed and shook his head. He’d promised to attend all his classes, turn in all the assignments, and give studying his best. If he really knew what his best was. But then, perhaps he was learning that his best in the classroom was not sufficient to be at the top of the rolls. How could he do better?
That wasn’t the real question, though, he had to admit. The real question was how could he make himself care about the outcome to the exclusion of all else? Or anything else? The mountains kept singing siren songs.
If he got his grades up—to the point that it was possible this late in the term—he would have a bargaining chip. In return, he could indeed spend the summer in the mountains rather than in the offices of his father’s business—the company he was meant to take over after training.
But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life running a business that cannot capture my dreams at all . Hiking in the mountains was not a lifelong ambition. He kept hoping he would outgrow that desire, as his father had suggested rather forcibly. But he kept hearing the mountains calling to him.
Nils stopped in front of the mirror. He looked haggard, as if he’d been out shouting Skol! with Hans and other drinkers, not only one night too many but for weeks. The disgusting part was that he’d been studying till the wee hours, not partying. Though he realized he would have a hard time convincing his father of that, should he happen to see his son in this degree of dishevelment.
Heaving another sigh and at the same time castigating himself for sighing, he snagged his wool coat off the peg and shrugged into it. Book in hand, he trudged down the stairs, clapped his hat on his head, and stepped out into the downpour. If any weather was conducive to staying inside, this was it.
He arrived at the classroom to find a closed door with a note on it: Class Canceled . He slammed his fist against the wall, wishing it were his head instead. All this for naught.
“Oh, for . . .”
The expletive behind him made Nils turn to see who else was willing to say out loud what he’d been thinking. He wagged his head and started back toward the stairs. The other student—what was his name?—walked beside him.
“You interested in the pub on the corner?”
Nils started to say no but changed his mind. “I’ll buy.” He knew the answer was curt but better that than stony silence. Or perhaps not. He turned to say he was sorry, but the other man held up his hand.
“No need. You want to buy, fine, but only the first one.”
They both paused in the doorway. The rain had not let up. Hats back on heads, they hugged the wall as much as they could on the two-block walk and ducked into the pub, shaking huge drops off their hats and coats. Hanging them on the pegs along the wall, they crossed to the stools at the bar,
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