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“Can I buy this from you?” I asked my uncle.

“You can have it. Go right ahead.”

“Thank you.”

I carried it past Karin in the kitchen and out the door, because I wanted to keep it a surprise for now. Back in my own house, I took it to my room. It just about fit in my closet, behind rows of pants and shirts and jackets.

By the dresser, I pulled out the drawer and opened the jewelry box. The amber heart lay right on top, among the bracelets and brooches that had once been my mother’s. I picked it up and studied the symbols. It was some sort of writing, but what did it mean? Maybe it was simply a maker’s mark and the doll and necklace had been made by the same hands. But if that was true, then whoever had made it was exceptionally skilled. They were two very different crafts.

I turned it in my hand, closing my fingers around it. The amber wasn’t warm, but neither was it cold. Not like the silver chain. And that’s when it came to me. Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? This was the perfect present for Lilja.

Placing it back in the jewelry box, I closed the drawer. I couldn’t dawdle anymore. The six soldiers were waiting for my tools. Still, on my way to the workshop, I went to the parlor, stopping in front of the bureau. The doll was sitting against the wall, waiting for Christmas to be over. Then I would study her and try to emulate her rare beauty.

Three more days of rushing and then I would give Lilja her tree and her presents. Spring would come soon, and we would stroll around town together in the sunshine. I would show her all the places where Alma and I had gotten up to trouble. Lilja would laugh, and then I would take her to the bakery and get her whatever she desired.

She would be warm and safe and happy. And so would I.

Chapter Twenty

The last few days before Christmas were a blur of finishing orders and having them all delivered. On Christmas Eve, I woke with Lilja’s arm slung over my middle. We had slept very late because the sky was lightening outside which meant that today, three days after winter solstice, it was past nine o’clock.

Lilja was asleep still, and I enjoyed the feel of her chest rising and falling, of her soft breaths in the silence of the room. It was quiet outside in the way it only ever was on holidays.

Eventually, she stirred. “Merry Christmas,” I said when she opened her eyes. When she tipped her face up, I kissed her. We kissed every night and every morning now.

“Merry Christmas.”

I kissed her forehead. “I have to get up to make a surprise for you.”

“Is it the Christmas tree?”

“It might be.”

Helena made us a special breakfast of eggs, ham, cheese, and bread. Lilja had put on her red dress when she joined us. Helena’s repairs were very neat, and you could hardly tell the hem had been ripped.

“I need your help today,” she told Lilja when we were finished eating. I had asked her to so I could sneak off and make my tree. “I want to make knäck, but I’ll burn it if I’m left to myself.”

“What is it?” Lilja asked with an endearing little frown.

“It’s a sweet made from syrup, sugar, cream, and almonds. You’ve never had it before?”

“Never, but it sounds good.”

“It’s the best part of Christmas Eve, but mostly when it’s not burned.”

“I’ll help you, then.”

As they set to cooking, I snuck the coat tree into the workshop, then regarded it with my arms crossed. It had ten pegs in all, five right at the top and five further down, but that wasn’t enough places to hang the decorations. I needed to add more “hooks” for candles, cones, hearts and tinsel. Artificial branches, I supposed. But how to do it in a way that still looked charming?

I walked around through the shop, looking at the different materials. There was wood of course, but carving it into the right shape would take weeks. My eyes fell on the coil hanging next to my hammer. Wire? Yes. The copper wire I used to connect dolls and animals with movable limbs would do very nicely.

Helena and Lilja’s chatter reached me from the kitchen as I set to work. Helena said something that made Lilja laugh. Soon the house filled with the scent of caramel. Outside, the clear weather was holding, the sun bright in a blue sky.

I was just about finished with my creation when Alma walked in. She circumvented my metal tree, appraising it as if it was a sculpture she was deciding whether to bid on.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Except for the lack of needles, it’s quite charming. It’ll look decent with the decorations and the lights.”