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A Star to Steer By, Alaskan Waters Series, Book Two

By AnnaLee Conti

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Chapter 1
Near Ketchikan, Alaska, Fall 1922

Norman Pedersen hunched his body into the biting wind as he stood at the bow of the seiner. Even that discomfort could not distract him from the relentless, crushing pain in his heart. A cacophony of voices assailed his ears, but he did not share the excitement.
Full of hope and ambition, he had come to Alaska to make his fortune and marry the love of his life. The future had looked so promising. But now, he felt like a man sentenced to a life behind bars. He’d let down everyone he loved.
How could I have been so stupid? How did I fall into this trap? Is there no way out?
I’m only twenty-one years old, and my life is ruined. How did I let it come to this?


Narvik, Norway, Fall 1919

Norman Pedersen stood at the bow, rope in hand, ready to jump to the dock as soon as the Viking nudged into its mooring in the harbor at Narvik. The long summer days were over. He turned up his collar against the chill Arctic winds that swept up the fjord.
Behind him, the four large islands of the Lofoten group, with smaller ones between, trailed off from the Vesteralen Islands into the Norwegian Sea like a gigantic backbone. From January to April, fishing boats followed the cod migration to their spawning grounds among the many islands scattered along northern Norway’s broken coast. Norman had spent the summer aboard the Viking with Ole Aarstad and Hans Orsen shipping salted and dried codfish from the Vesteralens to Bergen, one of the foremost fish markets of the world.
As much as Norman loved life at sea, his heart also swelled with pride for this land of his fathers, the Vikings. The majestic mountains, narrow valleys, and rushing waterfalls tumbling down the almost perpendicular walls of the numerous fjords never ceased to amaze him.
But at this moment, all he wanted was to be with Kristina Michelsen.
Something caught the sun’s rays and flashed out miniature beacons from the bluff overlooking the sea. His heart quickened when he spotted a girl buffeted by the stiff breeze. Kristina! It had to be. She always wore her mother’s large silver brooch at the throat of her shirtwaist. Her long, dark skirt billowed behind her as she gazed out across the water. Norman hoped Kristina, just past her seventeenth birthday, was looking for him.
As the Viking drew closer to land, Norman could see the wind whip golden strands of wavy hair across the girl’s face. He recognized the characteristic toss of her head as with her hand she shaded her eyes. Norman pictured those eyes, as blue as the beautiful fjord before her, straining to see his boat. He waved, and she waved back—vigorously.
His heart rose in anticipation of being with Kristina again after his long season at sea. He remembered the rosy tinge the breeze always brought to her cheeks and the pearly white teeth that sparkled between the sweet, smiling lips painted only by Nature’s deft fingers. In spite of the chilling wind, he warmed at the thought of kissing her. Maybe this time he’d get up the nerve.
He’d first seen Kristina in church two years earlier when at sixteen he’d finally gotten up the courage to run away from his elder brother’s estate in Oslo. Arne’s wife, Hilda, was so overbearing he couldn’t wait to escape to his older sister Alma’s home in Narvik. It had been a good decision. He’d been hired as a deckhand on the Viking, and he’d met Kristina Michelsen. It wasn’t only her pretty face and winsome ways that drew him. She too had lost both of her parents at a young age.

* * *

As Kristina watched the Viking approach the harbor, she heard a merry laugh behind her. Turning, she spotted her best friend, Freda Wergeland, hurrying up the path to join her. Ever since Norman had moved to Narvik, the three of them had been inseparable.
“Looking for the Viking, Kristina?”
“There it is!” She pointed at the boat entering the harbor. “Won’t it be good to spend time with Norman again? I’ve really missed him.”
With a wicked twinkle in her eye, Freda said, “Maybe he’ll kiss you when he comes up the path. Should I tell him about Henrik’s visit? Motivate him a little?”
“Don’t you dare!” Kristina shook her finger in her friend’s face then changed the subject. That was the only way to get Freda’s mind off her crazy threat. She could be like a bull dog with a stick. “Did you know Alma and Tennes Kobbevik booked passage on a ship leaving Bergen for America the end of August?”
Surprise spread across Freda’s face. “So they’re finally going.”
“Yes. They’re busy packing to leave on the motor ship for Bergen the end of this week, and Norm doesn’t know. How I do wish he’d hurry!”
“Krissie, if they’re really going,” Freda tucked an errant strand of light brown hair into the braid around her head, “we must give them a farewell party.”
Kristina bobbed her head. “That’s just what I was thinking. When Norman gets here, he can help us.” She turned to her friend. “We could start planning, though.”
“Alma has many friends who’ll be glad to help.”
“Of course! Let’s make their few remaining days here as happy as possible.”
A frown clouded Freda’s light blue eyes. “Why do they have to go so far away? Will we ever see them again?”
Pain stabbed Kristina’s heart. How strange life in Narvik will be without Alma.
She quickly brushed aside her own keen sense of loss. “I don’t know. It’s hard to see them go, but I don’t blame them.”
“I know. Tennes has had a hard time since his father and brother drowned in that awful storm five years ago.”
“He sure has.” Kristina gestured inland. “Since he quit fishing and tried farming the family gard, no matter how hard he works, that narrow valley doesn’t produce enough to give them the comforts of life Alma was used to. I’ve heard him say, ‘I should have known better than to marry a girl from such a highborn family.’”
“But Alma loves him devotedly.”
“She sure does. I’ve never heard her pine for her family estate in Oslo.”
Freda frowned. “Doesn’t her older brother still live in the family home? Why doesn’t he help them?”
“Alma told me Arne helped them buy some needed equipment once, but his wife stirred up a terrible commotion when she discovered he’d given them money. Alma and Tennes, and even Norman, finally begged him to stop helping them.” Kristina leaned in close to whisper in Freda’s ear. “Norman told me he’d rather eat dry crusts of bread in Alma’s home than a great feast at their brother Arne’s. That says a lot from a fellow with an appetite like Norman Pedersen’s. I guess Hilda must make life very unpleasant.”
“Tennes sure has worked hard on that farm,” said Freda.
“He certainly has.” Kristina smiled to hide her heartache over Alma’s upcoming departure. “Now, he has a good offer on it. And Alma’s uncle left her a sizeable sum in his will. This is their chance to start over in America where anybody who works hard can get rich—or so they say.”
“It’s wonderful for them, but we’re going to miss them.”
“No one’s going to miss them more than I.” Kristina sighed. “Ever since my mother died, Alma’s been like a big sister to me. I don’t know how I’ll stand it.”
Blinking back the moisture that sprang into her eyes, Kristina stared out across the fjord. Her tone muffled, she continued. “Just thinking of her being ’way across the waters makes me heartsick. I don’t dare let her know, though. I was helping her pack and felt the tears coming, so I ran out here to look for Norman.”
“Don’t take it so hard.” Freda slipped her arm around Kristina. “Maybe they won’t like it over there and will come back.”
“No! We mustn’t think such a thing. That would mean another big disappointment in their lives. I’m trying to be happy for their good fortune.” She paused then added, “I’m glad Norm isn’t going with them. Alma says he wants to keep working for Ole and—” Kristina gasped and faced Freda. “What if he changes his mind?”
With a twinkle in her eye, Freda laughed. “And leave you behind? I don’t think so!” Freda pointed at her. “Look at you! You’re blushing!”
As a fishy odor assailed their nostrils, Freda’s teasing suddenly halted. She sniffed. “What’s that awful smell?”
The girls whirled around. “Norman!”
“Thought you’d sneak up on us?” Freda asked. “Well, your fishy odor preceded you!”
“Sorry, girls! I didn’t go to the steam bath yet.” His gaze settled on Kristina. “I spotted you up here and couldn’t wait to see you.” Still dressed in his plaid flannel shirt and work pants stained with salt and slime, he carried his sea bag in one hand and his navy wool jacket slung over his shoulder with the other. “I’ll stand downwind.”
Norman’s tall figure, well over six feet in height, loomed over Kristina. She felt strangely shy—until his eyes, blue as sapphires, lit up.
Kristina smiled. “We didn’t hear you.”
“You girls were too busy talking.” His teasing was replaced with a frown. “Say, what’s this I hear about Alma and Tennes leaving for America this week?”
“It’s true.” Kristina swallowed the tears that threatened. “They received confirmation yesterday.”
He ran his fingers through his wavy, windblown hair, its dark color quite a contrast to the many light-haired Norwegians throughout the country. “Even before the Great War, they talked about going to America so many times it’s almost become a joke among their friends. You’ve heard them. ‘Just wait ’til Tennes goes to America.’ Now, they’re really going?”
“Yes, someone’s offered to pay full price immediately on their farm. Alma is rushing around trying to pack everything.” Kristina tried to keep her sorrow from showing in her voice. “Before you came, we were discussing a farewell party for them.”
“Ja, sure! Good idea!” Norman nodded enthusiastically. Then a frown settled on his features. “But where will we have it? If they’re packing, the farmhouse must be a mess.”
“Why don’t we have it at my house? It’s large enough.” Kristina enjoyed all the privileges of a daughter, so she didn’t hesitate to suggest the Michelsens’ house for the Kobbeviks’ farewell party. “Uncle Jon and Aunt Marta would love to do something to make the Kobbeviks’ few remaining days in Norway as memorable as possible.”
“That would be grand! I’m at your service, ladies. Just tell me what to do.” Norman bowed and swept his hand out.
Freda held her nose. “First, take a bath!”
Laughing, the three of them turned toward town, while Freda and Norman discussed plans for the party as they walked.
Before long, they reached the Michelsens’ home, where Kristina had lived since the death of her mother ten years earlier. Kristina’s father was Uncle Jon’s youngest brother. He had joined the Navy soon after the death of his lovely young wife and was lost at sea five years later. Kristina knew her presence helped to fill the void left in her aunt and uncle’s hearts and lives by the loss of their only son, killed in a skiing accident. Their shared sorrow and mutual sympathy had welded a strong attachment.
When the three young people stopped at the white gate, Norman looked at Kristina. “Why so quiet?”
“I’m missing Alma already.” Kristina stared out toward the fjord, remembering the moment Alma first told her they were leaving for America. She’d felt the same numbing sense of loss as when her mother had died. All she could think to ask was “What about Norman? Is he going with you?”
Alma had smiled. “When we asked him what he wanted to do if we went to America, he quickly settled that question. ‘I’ll stay with Ole. I want to be a fisherman like him. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.’”
Having Norman here will make losing Alma more bearable. Kristina comforted herself with that thought.
As though reading her mind, Norman‘s voice broke into her reverie, his tone teasing. “Won’t I be a good substitute for my sister?”
Kristina’s mood lifted. “I can’t imagine you fitting into your sister’s tiny shoes.” She chuckled.
“That would be quite a trick, I guess.” He paused. “The thought of going to America is tempting. What an adventure! But I love the sea, I love Norway, and—” He gazed ardently into Kristina’s eyes, “I-I love—”
“Hey, you two love birds!”
They’d both forgotten about Freda! A flush began to rise from Norman’s collar until it flooded his face. Kristina felt her own cheeks grow hot. Was he going to say he loves me? They looked anywhere but at each other.
Norman broke the awkward silence. “I can’t stand myself any longer. I’m off to tend to my first assignment.”
Kristina watched his long, swinging stride as he headed home.
“Krissie? Are you going in?”
“Huh? Oh, ja.” Kristina tore her gaze away from Norman, and the two girls hurried into the house to discuss party plans with Uncle Jon and Aunt Marta. Soon, they were all firing off suggestions to make it a gala affair.
When Freda left for home, Kristina closed the door behind her friend and leaned against it, wrapping her arms around herself with satisfaction. This will be a farewell party to remember.
A chill suddenly slithered down her spine. What if Norman’s love of adventure changes his mind, and he follows Alma to America?

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