There is still time,he reminded himself.
Love and the weather could change quickly... All it took was a persistent wind.
Back at the cabin, they piled the cuttings from the forest onto the table and kept one of the high shutters open for light. Although the snow was falling heavily, he covered it with a linen cloth for the time being, so that they could begin the crafts.
Embla showed him how to weave the evergreen branches into wreaths. But he struggled to make any decent ones himself. In the end, after losing patience, he compromised by carving little fortune runes to hang from them. Soon there were three beautiful wreaths hanging from the ceiling beams. Bright splashes of red, green and white added cheerful colour to his home in the darkest of seasons.
‘Now for the straw goats!’ she declared, and he tried to hide his groan.
He doubted he would have any more skill making goats than he had with the wreaths. It seemed to require a dexterity that he did not possess, while Embla seemed able to weave them with a speed that was effortless. He played with some straw until he managed a wonky looking creature. Sadly, it looked more like a five-legged beast that Sten had chewed on. It fell over immediately, and he picked it up to try to rework it.
Oblivious to his poor progress, Embla placed her perfect goat beside it, and then with a poignant smile said, ‘I make these with the boys every year... They symbolise Thor’s goats, and are made to encourage a prosperous harvest for the following year. We put them out for the feasts, and then in the morning—after Old Man Winter has paid his visit—I put honey cakes next to them for the children to eat.’
Runar wondered if she was thinking about the boys, and he knew the answer when she looked up from her craft with a tearful smile.
‘I miss them... I hope they are safe and well.’
Putting down his monstrous goat, he knelt beside her chair, and took her hand in his. ‘You will see them again in the spring, and you will even have gifts to give them, remember?’
She had started making little boots for the boys. The pieces of fur lay in a bag beside the fire, and he knew she would work tirelessly on them whenever she had a spare moment. With a tearful nod she wiped her eyes.
He squeezed her hand. ‘I will make them a toy as well, one for each of them. What would they like? I bet you would know.’
Taking a deep breath, she visibly brightened her expression, as if pushing the sorrow aside, although he could still see it in her eyes.
‘That would be nice.’ She glanced at the large sack of toys Runar had already made for the Sami children.
He had begun making them in the summer, and had stored them away after completing each one. At this time of year, he usually brought them out to check if he needed to make any more. He sometimes forgot what he had already made, and hated the thought of missing anyone. So he liked to double check what he had made and for who. As it was, he would need to make a couple more toys anyway, as there had been several births this year, and he liked to make little animals for the babies to hold.
Embla had seemed impressed when he had explained he made each toy with a specific child in mind.
Thoughtfully she answered, ‘Let me think... A wooden sword for Hakon, definitely, a dice set or drum for Ketil, and for little Magnus...a toy animal perhaps? He loves playing with those.’
‘How about a dog sleigh?’ he suggested, thinking of their own romantic ride through the snow and hoping the memory would cheer her.
She laughed. ‘Do you think you can make that? It sounds complicated.’
‘I will try, and if I fail, he can have the dogs without the sleigh and harness.’
‘He would like that just as well. I am probably worrying over nothing. They may have already forgotten me.’ Her expression turned despondent at her final words.
‘How could anyone forget you?’ he said with a loud tut, hating that she would doubt herself in such a way.
She gave a light shrug. ‘Sometimes I feel as if the children are my only friends in Gudvangen. That they would be the only ones to miss me if I were gone.’ Her nimble fingers began to work on another goat.
If he were selfish, he should have agreed with her, used it as another reason for her to stay with him. But he couldn’t hurt her, and so he answered honestly, ‘I imagine there are many people in Gudvangen who will have missed you. If they have failed to show you that, then it is their fault and not yours.’
Embla gifted him with a pure and dazzling smile, that overwhelmed his heart with joy.
Astounded by Runar’s kindness and generosity, Embla wondered how someone so precious could end up alone.
The beastly wild man of the forest was so far removed from who Runar actually was that she couldn’t understand how anyone in Gudvangen could think so poorly of him.
Were they blind?
Could they not see how good and beautiful he was? Or realise how deeply he cared for others? Perhaps they did not know him like the Sami did. But she doubted it. He had spoken of having family in Gudvangen, of visiting when he was a child and raiding with the men when he was a youth... They must know, but they had chosen to forget.
He deserved to be loved. But not by her—by someone who would stay with him. She was not as generous as Runar; she would steal this time from him and cherish it, but she would still leave...
