Aksel waited anxiously for Aino. Her note said that she’d be back in three days and not to worry but said nothing about where she was going or why. It was now the third day.
He spent the morning splitting wood, working out his anger over her refusal to support his plan and his anxiety because she was gone. The whole day, whenever he saw one of the two ferries returning to Astoria, he would drive the wagon back to the duplex in hopes that she’d be there. He made the scheduled deliveries and now sat in the new easy chair, his wooden leg stretched before him.
He heard footsteps and his heart picked up speed. He came to his feet just as Aino opened the front door. He thought there could be no sweeter joy than being reunited with a much-missed loved one.
She finally wriggled loose from him, laughing, and hung her coat and hat on the coat tree. He carried her valise into the bedroom. When he returned, she had her purse on the kitchen table and was pulling out documents.
“What’s this? Where did you go?”
She looked at him and he could feel some sort of triumph in her. “I went to Nordland.”
“Nordland?”
She unfolded several legal-size sheets, put the documents on the table, and then put a check on top of them. He picked it up. It was drawn on the bank that took his money for the exact amount taken.
“You got my money back? For the heating business? How did you do it?” He reached out to kiss her, but she pulled away, smiling.
“Not so fast.” She handed him the legal-size papers. “It’s a loan.”
“A loan? But it’s my money.”
She sighed. “As I learned in Nordland, not anymore.”
Aksel went grim.
“Just read the terms,” she said. He looked at her, wondering what was up, and then started glancing quickly through the terms. He stopped, his mouth open. He looked at her with amazement. “It says here the collateral is a boat.”
Aino grinned.
Aksel threw down the papers and grabbed her, whirling her around. “The boat! The boat!” he repeated. He kissed her until she pulled her head back. “You need to sign it,” she said.
He went back to the documents. On reaching the last page he looked up at her, pointing to her signature.
“Yes. I already signed it. That’s why we have the check. You need to sign, too, and we mail one copy to Louhi.”
“The old witch,” Aksel said, shaking his head. He hugged her again, reread the terms, and then laughed out loud.
Aino had poured them coffee. She set it in front of him, smiling with the joy he obviously felt. Aksel leaned back in his chair, like the captain he was finally going to be again, and said, “Hell, it was illegal money in the first place. Now I have to earn it like an honest man.” Then the joy suddenly faded as he remembered he had a wooden leg, which would slow him down in rough weather, make it difficult to keep his balance, make it impossible to get quickly from the stern to the bow in an emergency. He wasn’t sure he could do it. Finding the fish was one thing, getting a hundred-plus-pound salmon, writhing with the strength that could propel it to Wyoming, into the boat was quite another. He looked at his wooden leg and then at her in despair.
“I’m going to help you,” she said. “You’re the captain. I’m the crew. Until we can afford a boat puller.”
“But … what do you know about fishing? You can’t pull a boat through rough water. Some of the salmon could be as big as you are. We hit rough water and you’ll never be able to get the net in.”
“Not by myself.” He saw that rising posture of hers, as she came to her full five feet, four inches. “And you can’t do it by yourself, either.”
He sat silent on a kitchen chair, the loan agreement still in his hands. Then he rose and clumped his way to the dresser where he kept paper and a fountain pen. He returned with the pen, set the loan agreement on the table, and signed it. He grinned at her. “It looks like we’re partners.”