Deep Harbor (5 page)

“Not as I understand it, Cap’n. Just cautious.”

Peder grumbled as they passed the chicken. “It still grates on me. An idle ship is a ship not making money.”

“You’ll be busy with customs, paperwork, and the agents, anyway. You should take advantage of the time—take the missus and Kristian out on a holiday. Enjoy yourself.”

“Let’s pray!” Kristian said, folding his hands and looking at everyone else expectantly.

Elsa smiled and Riley said, “The little mite’s on the right track, I’d say.”

“Good idea, son,” Peder said, and proceeded to give thanks for the food.

“Amen!” Kristian echoed the adults, clearly as proud of himself as they were.

As they began to eat, Elsa ventured, “It would be lovely to see some of the sights, Peder. I’ve been reading Keeling’s guide, and he describes some wonderful excursions.”

“Perhaps,” Peder said noncommittally. “As Riley said, I’ll have my hands full for some days with the ship’s business.”

“I do wish you would hire an agent for some of that work sometimes,” Elsa said.

“And hand off five percent of my profit?” Peder shook his head.

“Ramstad Yard is doing fine. Why not enjoy some of the exotic ports we visit? And your family? It would be good for Kristian to see them too.”

“We will see.”

His tone irritated Elsa. “You will see to our business, husband, as always. But I will see to our son and myself. I want to at least see greater Yokohama. It sounds too delightful to pass up.”

Peder looked up at her sharply, his fork poised in mid-bite. “You will not go alone.”

Riley shifted in his chair. Elsa willed herself not to do the same under Peder’s gaze. She hated when he took the captain’s tone with her. “I will hire a guide.”

Peder continued to stare at her. “We will see. I am uncomfortable thinking whom you might meet.”

Elsa frowned, confused. “The Japanese are purported to be some of the most respectable, genteel people on earth.”

“No. I am uncomfortable with whom you might meet.” The repetition of his sentence finally caught her attention.

“Surely, you don’t believe that Mason Dutton—”

“Would follow us here? Why not? I—”

“Mason Dutton!” Riley exploded. “Where did you see that scum o’ the earth?”

“Hawaii,” Peder said briefly.

“That explains all sails set,” Riley said, chewing thoughtfully. “You might’ve let me—”

“Peder,” Elsa interrupted, “we cannot live in fear of the man. It is one thing to avoid Dutton, another to run from him. Let us go to the authorities.”

“I am still mulling it over. I’m not afraid to tell you that the uniform throws me off. Now, he might be an impostor, or he might be the genuine article. Perhaps he’s even a decorated officer. This far from home, who would the authorities listen to?”

“Well, at least we three could identify him. Why not take him on? It is unlike you to run from a fight.” The words were out before she could stop them.

“I cannot explain it. I could find no peace over the idea of staying in Hawaii and confronting the …” he paused, glancing at Kristian, “and all I could think of was how I nearly lost you to his henchmen on that island, and how I now have
two
of you to protect.”

Elsa was silent, considering his dilemma. The drama of that West Indies night when Mason Dutton and his men attacked the
Herald
came flooding back. Mason Dutton and his crew had swarmed the
Herald
, weapons drawn, in a brazen attempt to take over the ship and kidnap Elsa. Peder had indeed nearly lost her; he
had
lost his best friend, Karl Martensen, in the process. She could understand Peder’s urge to flee rather than fight in Hawaii. But how long would it haunt them?

“What do you think he has up his sleeve? Do you believe he was an officer five years back?” Riley was asking Peder.

“I have no idea. I am all at sea,” he said, using the common sailor’s expression for
confused
. “If he was an officer for the Royal Navy, why were he and his entire crew in civilian clothes?”

“On leave?” Riley asked.

“Perhaps. But for what period of time could he manage that? And his ship was not Navy issue.”

“So he became an officer since that time.”

“It might be.” Peder took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “For a man like Mason, it would increase the stakes. He likes the game, more than anything. It’s all like a grand chess match.”

“Mama, I want more beans,” Kristian said, ignoring the conversation around him.

Elsa served him, resisting the urge to encourage the child to say “please.” “I still think we should confront Dutton if we see him again. This cannot go on forever. And what purpose would it serve for him to come after us? He tried before and lost. Why would he not go after easier prey?” Elsa put in.

“Because the pot got sweeter,” Riley said, staring into Peder’s eyes as if understanding what he was thinking. “Forgive me, ma’am, for saying it this way, but there’s you, a grand fish that got away, and then there’s Peder, who made Dutton turn tail and run. Neither sits well with a man.”

“We didn’t exactly defeat him. He left us wounded and got away!”

“There is no pride in that,” Peder said. “There is pride only in victory for such a man as he.”

Elsa sighed and set down her fork. “I refuse to run from him.”

“We will run until I decide what to do,” Peder said firmly.

“There are ways—” Riley began.

“None of which are appropriate to our ways,” Peder interrupted. “I appreciate your impulse, Riley,” he said more gently, “for I would
like to throttle him myself. But I need to wait on the Lord for his way in this.”

Fearful once again, Elsa bowed her head and stared at her plate. In all the time she had known Peder, there were few times when he was not confident about his next move. As much as she hated arguing with him—oftentimes finding him bullheaded and unwilling to consider her viewpoint—it gave her confidence to see such assuredness in his own mind. To see her husband falter made her heart skip a beat.

She glanced over at Peder’s desk, at the nautical book, knowing her hidden article about Mason was beneath. Perhaps it was just the answer for them. If they could not take on Mason Dutton themselves, the public could do it for them.

Days later, confident in her decision, Elsa finished her article on Mason Dutton. Perhaps now she could put the scoundrel out of her mind for good. Peder would be furious with her at first, but it would be months before the article appeared, and probably weeks after that before Peder would get wind of it. By then, Elsa hoped the authorities would have taken appropriate action to bring the man to justice—and save her marriage from too much strife. Why, this was exactly the reason that Peder still lobbied to keep her and Kristian ashore. She would not back down now!

She smiled as she tucked Kristian in for the night and donned her cloak for a stroll on deck. They had made land way down west that afternoon, and she hoped for another glimpse of Japan by moonlight. She was not disappointed.

Riley joined her at the lee bow rail. “That point there,” he said, raising a finger to the horizon, “that’s Omae Saki.”

“Saki
means cape, correct?”

“Aye,” Riley said, a note of pride in his voice. “Been studying the language, ma’am?”

“A few words in
Japanese Words and Phrases for the Use of Strangers.”

“A good resource,” Riley said. “Still thinkin’ about traveling about a bit?”

“Perhaps,” she said noncommittally. “Oh, Riley,” she said, gripping his arm. “Look at that!” She pointed at a reflection in the sky, like a cloud of smoke with fire glowing in the midst of it. “Is it a volcano?”

Riley chuckled. “Fusi Yama. It’s still ’bout a hundred miles off. But she’s a sight. Half of her is crowned in snow. I think it’s but the moonlight reflecting off of that snow, not fire.”

“I can see why the Japanese carve its image on everything possible.” She had seen it on the many pieces of furniture and curios that Peder had brought back in years past. “She must be quite a sight by morning light.”

“She’s quite a sight now,” Riley said. He brought fingertips to his cap brim and nodded once at her. “G’night, ma’am.”

“Good night, Riley.”

“Ma’am.” Riley hesitated a moment. “If you wish to take an excursion while we’re here, I’d be happy to escort you if the cap’n isn’t available.”

“Thank you, Riley.” As Riley left, she stared off at Fusi Yama, considering her article and drawings in their room, already packaged and ready to post. If only God could send the northern lights here, to this foreign land, as a sign that all was right with her decision! That she wasn’t causing more trouble for Peder. All at once, she longed for her father, for home, for the secure. To be able to trust in his wisdom instead of her own. But she was an adult now. And while she missed the security of her father’s protection, she also knew she was a woman who wasn’t afraid to take risks, to find new adventures. She thrilled at the sight of a land never seen before, waiting to be explored. And explore it she would.

In typical Victorian fashion, Elsa attacked exploration like a new business venture. She had read many books that had exhorted their readers to work at the experience, to truly study the people and places, and
come away richer for it. So her sketch book was constantly out as she captured one scene after another. She considered herself fortunate that Kuma, her Japanese guide, was as adept at entertaining Kristian as she was at helping Elsa discover new and fanciful corners of the city. By week’s end, she had seen much of Yokohama, and had made several important new friends. One family had even invited her and Peder to stay with them at their mountain home.

She was just completing an article for the
Times
when Peder came in, sighing heavily. “Seven weeks!” he said, obviously disgruntled. “How can it possibly take seven weeks for a vessel to discharge her cargo?” He sat down at his desk and opened his logbook, obviously disgusted. “I do not wish to trade here too often,” he said.

Elsa set aside her lap desk and went over to him, placing her arms around his neck. She kissed his ear. “You need to get away. Off this ship. Come with us. We’ve been invited to a lovely mountain home by a fine family. It will do you good.”

“I cannot, Elsa. Who will see to the business at hand?”

Rebuffed, Elsa let her arms slide away and stood up stiffly. “Riley. Your first mate. You remember, the man who should be taking care of such things while his captain embraces life with his family? He works for you, Peder. Why not let him do his job? It must drive him crazy, having you in the midst of it all, meddling.”

Peder was silent for a moment, and Elsa took a breath, wondering if she had overstepped her bounds. But then his shoulders began to shake and laughter followed. He turned and smiled at her, then rose to take her in his arms. “Elsa, Elsa. What would I do without you?”

Kristian emerged from his room, wiping his eyes as he struggled to awake from his nap. He ran to them and Peder picked him up, nestling the boy between them. “Hi, Papa,” was all he said.

“I hear we’re taking a trip together,” Peder said, looking Elsa in the eye.

“To the mountains?” Kristian asked, wide-eyed.

“To the mountains,” Elsa said, smiling.

They left the following day. Elsa waited in an open carriage with Kristian as she watched Peder giving Riley last-minute instructions in apparent detail. She could tell that Riley struggled to remain patient with his captain as Peder went on and on. She pulled out the pocket watch from his coat on the seat beside her and called to him. “Peder!”

He glanced her direction and, seeing the watch, nodded once. Thank goodness they needed to catch a train to Tokyo, or Peder would talk all day. She exchanged a glance with Kuma, who struggled to keep Kristian in the carriage. “Peder!” she called again.

He turned away from Riley a moment later and hurried down the gangplank. “All right, all right,” he said, climbing in and taking a delighted Kristian to his knee. “Let us get to the train station!” It seemed to Elsa that time rushed by as they boarded for their short one-hour train ride and then their journey on the jinrikishas up the bumpy path of Mount Atago. How good it felt to be away from the water and with her family! Even Peder seemed to relax as the hours and miles melted away thoughts of the case oil, still languishing in the hold.