Page 91 of The Caged Viking

This was all news to Hauk. He walked over to Gorm and dumped the contents of the bag on the floor. There was a gold chalice, one of his favorite belts, a handful of coins, and some sodden fabric.

“Thass the stuff that Zoya stole, isn’t it?” Frida asked.

Hauk nodded slowly. This must be the bag that Kirstin had supposedly been holding when she got off of the longship. “Show me where you found it,” he told Gorm. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in foreboding.

Shortly after that, they arrived at the spot that Gorm indicated. While snow was coming down more heavily now and starting to stick on the ground, this area was somewhat sheltered by nearby trees. So, at least for now, the mossy ground was bare, but the flowers long dead. There was nothing here. Certainly not the necklet and the two arm rings that Egil had said Kirstin was carrying, along with the bag, when he’d last seen her.

Hauk’s heart dropped.

This was the place where Kirstin had left him, leaving behind the heavy bag that belonged to him. He didn’t know why this particular spot would be Kirstin’s point of return to the future, but he was convinced that it had been.

It was final then. Kirstin was gone. And she would not be returning.

So much for love!

* * *

This is what she’d wanted. Wasn’t it?...

Her father helped her walk across the lawn to the house. She felt kind of weak and leaned against his broad shoulder for support. While she no longer sobbed, tears did leak from her eyes.

She wasn’t sure why she was crying. Well, yes, she did. It was Hauk.

I will never see him again.

What must he think about my disappearance?

He will think I left, deliberately.

After he told me that he loves me.

It must seem like a slap in the face to him.

And I told him that I love him, too.

He’ll think I lied.

“Oh, Daddy,” she moaned. “It is such a mess.”

“Now, dearling, it can’t be that bad. You are not to worry. We will fix everything. Just you relax and let your father take care of you,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

If only he could! Like he did when I was a child. But I’m not a child anymore, and some problems are too big to fix.

As they approached the side of the old Victorian house, Kirstin noticed the warmer weather, compared to the cooler climate she’d just left. Being November, or at least it should be, the air was balmy, even for winter in northern California.

They walked up the steps to the wraparound porch and her father ordered the dogs, who’d followed them, “Stay!” They plopped to the floor in a sunny spot, while she and her father crossed the porch and entered the kitchen..

Her stepmother, Angela, was standing before the commercial-sized gas range, stirring what smelled like her famous Shrimp Carbonara. Despite being more than fifty years old, Angela still looked as trim and professional in a designer track suit, her black hair perfectly coifed into a short bob, as she had when she was a Hollywood PR person.

“What was all that barking about, darling?” Angela asked, without turning around.

“Look what the dogs found down by the pond,” her father said.

“Those dogs better not have caught another skunk. Last time they brought a dead skunk inside it took me a week to get rid of the stink.”

Her father chuckled. “No, they found something better.”

Angela turned around, a wooden spoon in her hand. Seeing Kirstin, she screamed, dropped the spoon, and ran toward her, giving her a huge hug and refusing to let go, despite her father laughing and saying, “Hold off, Angie, you’re going to crush Kirstin.”