Matthias had to get Opal alone. Mutti had kept her occupied all afternoon like a mother hen corralling her brood, but he had to find a chance to talk with her. Find out what kind of damage that half-brained smithy had done. The man’s words were a bunch of idle tripe, but Opal wouldn’t know that. Not for sure anyway.
Not that him defending himself would give solid proof. It would just be his response to the accusations. But at least he could find out what she now thought of him. And suddenly, Opal Boyd’s opinion of him mattered far more than anything.
Pushing that thought down, he peered around the open kitchen door. “Anyone want to help a poor fellow gather holly? We’d better get cracking if we plan to have wreaths for Christmas tomorrow.”
Mutti looked up from her work at the table. Her expressions were once hard for him to decipher, what with the way she always looked so no-nonsense. But when he’d realized that twitch of her cheek was the way she concealed a smile, she’d become as easy to read as an open letter.
Just now her cheek pulled the slightest bit. “Opal, are those rolls ready for ze oven now?”
“They are.” Opal turned to face them, raising her arm to brush away stray hairs with the back of her wrist.
His hands itched to tuck those strands back himself. Maybe sink his fingers deep into the rest of her hair. He knew from experience ’twas soft, but his memories weren’t as good as real life.
The awareness of her gaze seeped through him, and he met those eyes with his own. He couldn’t stop the little smile that pulled at his mouth. “Does that mean you’re free to help?”
Her gaze flicked away from his—to Mutti. Perhaps he shouldn’t be pulling her out of the kitchen on such a busy baking day, what with Christmas tomorrow. But she needed a bit of fresh air. And he needed desperately to talk with her.
And if it happened that she didn’t believe the rumors about him and was willing to share in a pre-Christmas kiss, well…all the better.
“Ja, go gather holly. We’re late making the wreaths.” Mutti waved them away, her cheek twitching, even though she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
After Opal had bundled in her coat, scarf, and gloves, they set out on the trail behind the house. The nearest holly tree wasn’t far, but perhaps he could take a more winding path to get there.
He wore his fur coat and buckskin gloves, but his hands found his coat pockets for extra protection as a gust of wind whipped up.
“So why are we on a holly-gathering expedition?” Opal tucked her fingers through the crook of his arm, securing herself close to him with her other hand. Too bad his bulky covering blocked much of the feel of her.
He slowed to a stroll. Maybe he could stretch this outing until the chill of the sunset forced them to return. If only…
But he forced his mind away from that line of thought and onto her question. “We’re cutting holly to make wreaths.”
“I gathered that much. But how did these holly wreaths come to be such an important part of the Yule celebration?” She turned her face up to him.
Her face shone in the winter light, with those elfin features tucked into the scarf she’d wrapped around her ears. He had to keep himself walking or he’d lean down to kiss that pert little nose. Or those soft lips.
She looked away then, maybe because she could read his mind. Or maybe because she thought one of them should look where they were walking.
But it gave him a chance to let out a long breath and clear his mind. Holly. Right. “Holly was a favorite with the Vikings. Because it stays green through the winter, it reminds us that life continues. And we make them into wreaths, which symbolizes to the way each season goes into the next, making the circle of the year. So, a holly wreath is basically a reminder that winter will eventually end and spring will come again.”
“Hmm…”
’Twas hard to tell if her hmmm was thoughtful or if she was just plain bored. He’d probably overdone it a bit with the explanation. Who really cared about the meaning behind holly wreaths anyway? He had more important matters to discuss.
But he had to be careful about how he broached the topic. “Opal, when Lefton came earlier…” How did he say this exactly?
“That man makes me so angry.” Her body stiffened against his side. “I don’t know why he thinks those things about you, but he has no right spouting them off to anyone who will listen.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have been so concerned. “I can’t figure the reason behind his strange accusations. ’Tis not like he really knows me, only what he might have heard from the Shumeisters or someone else around town.”
“Has he ever been civil to you?”
“Not once. Not even the first time I stopped to leave Karl with him. He nearly chased me off with a pitchfork.”
“Hmm…”
Again with that same vague response. But this time ’twas easier to think her hmm meant she was mulling the problem over. Was she pondering whether he really was innocent of the man’s charges? After all, most accusations had at least some root in truth. Surely she harbored at least the shadow of a doubt about him. He had to know for sure. After all, he’d never been one to shy away from facing something that bothered him.
“Do you wonder if he’s right?” He kept his tone soft, gentle. Not betraying the tightness in his throat that threatened to strangle him.
She looked up at him again, and he had to force himself to meet her gaze. She needed to see he had nothing to hide. Yet if he saw doubt in her eyes, it would be torture to watch her good opinion of him falter.
She seemed to study him for an interminable moment. Or maybe she was trying to find the right words. Words to let him down gently.
At last, she spoke. “I think the entire situation is strange, I’ll grant that. But nothing Lefton or anyone else could say changes what I’ve seen with my own eyes. From the way you care for the Shumeisters as if they were your own parents, to the way you proved yourself more than a gentleman when you escorted me to visit Tori. And a host of other moments it would take me hours to describe. You’re a good man, Matthias Björk. I’ve seen that.”
Her words brought a lump to his throat that stopped any response he might have summoned. She was wrong. He wasn’t a good man, no matter how much he longed to be. But he wasn’t about to clarify that for her. Not when Opal Boyd looked at him with those luminous blue eyes. And that soft smile curving her sweet lips.
She seemed to realize that he wasn’t ready to answer. Breaking their locked gazes, she stepped forward, pulling him with her. When had they stopped walking? “Come. We’re taking the long way to the grove of holly trees, but ’tis right up here.”
They’d cut enough holly branches to fasten ten wreaths, at least, before Opal finally allowed Matthias to turn them back toward the boardinghouse. Evening was falling fast, which meant she was overdue to help with dinner, but this time alone with him had been the best Christmas gift she could imagine. And the thought of gifts reminded her she’d probably be up late that night finishing his. It would be worth it, though, as long as he liked her simple offering. Lord, let him like it.
Matthias fell into step beside her, carrying the lion’s share of their load.
She’d taken the conversation deeper than she intended on the first part of their walk, so it would be best to speak of happy things on the return trip. “So I think I know what happens on Christmas day. What other delights do I have to look forward to for the remainder of Yule?”
“Well.” He reached to snag a holly branch slipping out of his bundle. “Mostly more of the same. Lots of food, games, and stories. Sometimes we can get Vatti to play a few tunes on his violin.”
She turned to stare at him. “He plays an instrument?”
He gave a firm nod. “Not unless we can talk him into it, but he hides a great deal of talent. Not that he’d admit to it.”
She turned her focus back to the rocky trail. “Hmm…” Life was ever full of surprises.
“Also…” Something about his tone made her turn back to him. Matthias sent her a glance filled with enough apprehension to tighten a knot in her stomach.
“What?”
“I received word today from someone who may know where my sister is located.”
“That’s great news.” The knot started to uncoil inside her. His look must be just the nerves of his mission finally being so close to fulfillment.
He nodded, but the hesitation in the action and the way he cut another look at her pulled those nerves tight again in her midsection.
“The wire came from the Montana Territory. It said she’s left the town, but I need to go there and see if I can find out where she went.”
It took a moment before the full meaning of his words soaked in. The Montana Territory was weeks away, depending on where exactly he would be going. Not a journey to take lightly.
But this was one step closer to something he’d been working toward for a long time now. Family. “That’s great.” She sounded like a mockingbird, repeating the same phrase over and over. Drawing in a breath, she tried for something new. “When will you leave?”
The warmth of his gaze heated her cheek, but she didn’t turn to look at him. Couldn’t. Or he might see the sting of tears scalding her eyes. ’Twas not as if he weren’t coming back. Or maybe that’s what he was trying to tell her.
Now she had to look at him, to gauge his answer to the question she had to ask. “Do you…think you’ll be back?”
“Opal.” He stopped now, turning to face her fully. His hands came up to cup her arms, making her wish his gloves and her coat didn’t separate them so fully. But the tenderness in his dark green eyes was the next best thing to a caress. “I’ll be back. I need to see if Alanna is still near that town. I may need to track down a few leads. But I’ll be back. Hopefully before the spring thaw.”
Before the spring thaw. An eternity from now. She nodded, her gaze dipping to his chin so she didn’t have to look in those eyes again. Her tears burned too close to the surface.
A long breath eked out from him, as if he didn’t want to leave any more than she wanted him to. But that wasn’t the way he should feel. This might very well be the trip where he would find his sister.
Straightening her spine, she raised her chin and forced herself to meet his gaze. “Go to Montana. Find your sister. Then bring her back so I can meet her.”
The edges of his eyes formed crinkles, highlighting the twinkle inside them. “Yes, ma’am.” And then he lowered his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Sweet. So tender. A simple meeting of hearts.
He pulled back and gave her one of those grins that made her chest flip. “We’d best get back. The Yule wreaths won’t make themselves.”