Page 43 of A Joyful Ring
“To marry her, sir. To love her with all of my heart for all of my days. I wanted to give her a ring so she’d know I’m serious when I say I love her and intend to build a future for us. Before we wed, I want to buy a piece of land, build a little place like this that we can add on to in the years to come. If it is part of the good Lord’s plan, I hope to have a long, joyful life with Risa and the children we mayhave.”
“So, you aren’t planning to drag her out to live in your tent anytime soon?” Lars asked as he rubbed a hand over his chin, as though he was thinking through what Gunder had said.
“No, sir. It’s no place for a lady. I never had any thought of marrying Risa until I could provide adequately for her.”
“And you think this is adequate?” Lars scoffed and waved his hand around the open room.
“You must have thought so when you built this for Risa,” Gunder said in a voice that edged into irritation in spite of his efforts to remain calm. “The two of you seem happy here.”
“That’s beside the point. Don’t you think I want better for my daughter than this? Better than a life of hard work and drudgery?”
“Hard work is good for the soul, or so my father says. It seems to me the most important thing in life—the thing that makes life worth living—is love. Risa will be lavished with it.”
Lars glared at him for several long, painfully silent moments as tension coiled so tightly around them Gunder was surprised he couldn’t see it.
“I’m not changing my answer, Gunder. You may not marry Risa. Not yet. When you have a decent place for her to live, then ask me again. I will grant permission for the promise ring, though. But if you have any thoughts of breaking that promise right along with her heart, leave her be. Stop coming around. Either make your feelings clear and stand by them, or get out and don’t come back. Do you understand what I’m saying, son?”
“I do, sir.” Gunder rose and nodded once in respect to Lars for the man he’d been—up until that moment—not the unreasonable father he currently faced.
Gunder wanted to argue with Lars, rant that the man should know him well enough to know he wouldn’t make a promise he didn’t plan to keep to his dying breath. But he didn’t.
Instead, he slipped on his coat and hat, grabbed his pack and scarf, and left.
Fury fueled his steps as he headed to his tent, wishing he’d taken time to fetch a lantern since it was growing dark. Inwardly fuming at himself and at Lars, he was nearly to his tent when he noticed the flap untied. He never left it that way, and dread walloped him in the gut.
Gunder threw open the tent flap and, despite the dark shadows, could see the chaos inside. Fumbling through the mess, he unearthed the box where he kept candles and pulled one out along with a box of matches. When he lit it, he gaped at the disaster.
His cot had been turned over, every crate on its side. His belongings were strewn everywhere. It was a good thing he’d already delivered the pendants to Mr. Goodwin before he left yesterday morning, but what about Risa’s ring? He’d left it in a little wooden tray he’d made to hold the repair projects when he was working on them. The tray was upside down, the contents scattered.
“No, no, no,” Gunder chanted as he stuck the candle in a holder he’d made from an empty bean can, then bent down and pawed through thewreckage. Surely someone wouldn’t have stolen the ring.
He uncovered his hidey-hole beneath the tent and experienced a sense of relief that the tin he kept there remained undisturbed. Quickly returning it to the hole, covering it, then righting the cot, he kept searching for the ring.
Whoever had been in the tent had broken his glass lamp, leaving behind the smell of the kerosene as it soaked into the ground. The odor was overpowering, but he ignored it and methodically searched his tent inch by inch for the ring. As far as he could tell, nothing else was missing. The watch he’d been repairing for Pastor Thomas was there, as was the pendant chain he’d told Mrs. Lewis he’d fix.
Then he realized not only was Risa’s ring missing, but so was the box with the bell, the letters his parents had sent, and the tin of Christmas cookies.
Why would anyone take those things? There were more valuable and useful items in the tent. No one beyond Gloria even knew he’d been making the ring. She’d promised not to mention it to Lars, and from the man’s reaction to him today, Gunder was sure she hadn’t.
But why would anyone steal the ring and leave behind the watch and silver chain? Why take the bell and letters? And how dare they steal the cookies his mother had sent!
Already frustrated and infuriated from his discussion with Lars, Gunder felt rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced, turning the cornersof his vision red. Then a horrible, guttural bellow startled him, even more so when he realized the sound came from himself.
Footsteps crunched against the frozen ground and grew louder as people rushed toward him. A circle of light soon illuminated the wreckage inside his tent.
“What in thunderation happened?” Mr. Goodwin asked as he held the lantern in his hand up high, surveying the damage.
Gunder clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the urge to pound something, or someone. “I came back and found it like this. Someone stole things that are very precious to me. Among the items was a ring I was making for Miss Hoffman for Christmas. It’s important I get it back.”
“Gunder, I’m sorry. I don’t know who would have done this. Supper will be ready soon. Come with me to the cookshack, and we’ll get to the bottom of this.” Mr. Goodwin turned to the man who worked as his assistant. “Fred, go ask Mrs. Baldwin if she has an extra room for Gunder tonight, then get someone in here to clean up the mess and make sure nothing else is taken.”
“Yes, sir,” Fred said, taking off at a run into town.
Gunder felt a hand on his shoulder and started to shrug it off until he realized it was Lars. Angry as he was at the man, right now he needed a friend.
“Who would have done such a thing?” Lars questioned, peering into the mess. “All the miners live by the code of respecting one another. I can’t think of anyone who would destroy another’sthings. We all know how hard we work for every penny and value what we have.”
“It’s not just the things that were broken,” Gunder said, flexing his fingers that were beginning to cramp from being in such tight fists. “They took the ring, and some things sent by my parents for Christmas.”
