She had tried to smile back at him, but winced with the pain in her face, managing a soft “I love you, too,” before they pulled the stretcher out of the vehicle and hurried her away.
Feeling dazed and distraught, he watched as the sliding glass doors closed behind her. As he approached the front doors of the emergency room, Kristian came striding out, followed by Katrin’s mother, Ingrid, Sam, Jenny, his brothers, and father. Kristian threw his arms around Erik, embracing him in a giant bear hug.
“You saved her.”
“No. I was late.”
I was late. I was late and Wade hurt her.
“No, man. You got there in time. She’s alive, Erik. That’s all that matters. I saw her when they wheeled her in. She’ll heal. At least she’s still in one piece. I owe you, Erik. Thank God you made it there in time.”
Lisabet was next, hugging Erik, and repeating the words Ingrid had said to him weeks ago as he drove away with her daughter. “You saved her life, Erik. How will we ever thank you? How?”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get there on time,” he murmured, wincing. “I can’t believe he almost—I love your daughter, Mrs. Svenson.”
“Lisabet.” She smiled gently at him. “And I know you do.”
His head started to clear, and he thought about telling her about the postcard the police had found in Wade’s back pocket—the one addressed to Lisabet, that was sent from Katrin and intercepted by Wade.
After he was handcuffed, he admitted he’d seen Katrin and Erik in the parking lot at Flathead Lake and had keyed Erik’s car. He also admitted to stealing the postcard out of Lisabet’s mail and driving up to Skidoo Bay to try to convince Katrin to give him another chance. When Erik had turned up at the same time to pick up Katrin for their date, Wade had freaked out, thrust the flowers at his rival and driven home.
Erik decided not to worry Kat’s mother further, though, and kept all the information to himself, leaning down to accept her kiss on his cheek.
Kristian put his arm around his mother’s shoulders and Jenny stepped up quickly to examine Erik’s face, grimacing at the developing bruises. “If anything had happened to you…”
“Nothing did, Jen. I’m fine. But Kat…”
“She’ll be fine, Erik. She’s just a little banged up.”
“A lot banged up,” he amended, wincing as he pictured her bloody lip and bruised face.
Nils and Lars clapped him on the back, and he accepted his brothers’ support before turning to his father. Erik looked at him through new eyes. His weathered face, his once-blond, now-white hair, his eyes that had been forbidden to watch his wife die. He had always seemed larger than life to young Erik, but Erik could see that his father was aging, and he didn’t want to waste another moment feeling angry with him.
“Pappa.”
“Erik. You okay, son?”
“I am.”
“How’s your girl?”
“She’s…she’s…” He thought about his father slipping into his mother’s bedroom to hold her as she was dying. He’d never let anyone hurt Katrin again. Not as long as he lived. He’d keep her safe. She’d know that she was loved. “I think she’ll be okay. She’ll probably be shaken up for a while. Possible broken arm. I was so scared I would lose her—I didn’t get there in time, I was so scared—”
“Takes a brave man to love a woman that much, son.”
Erik looked up and his eyes seized his father’s, so similar to his own. “You would know, Pappa.”
His father’s light blue eyes looked squarely into Erik’s as he nodded. “I guess I would, at that, Minste.”
Erik impulsively clasped his arms around his father for the first time since his mother’s death. His father’s burly arms encircled him, hesitantly at first, and then with a firm and forgiving strength.
Erik opened his eyes to see Jenny over his father’s shoulder. She wiped a tear away and gave Erik a small smile, nodding at him with love and understanding.
A massive weight on Erik’s heart lifted, and he heard his mother’s voice in his head. The same hopeful question she would ask Erik’s father after their dreaded excursions; “And my Minste?”
He felt the answer in his heart before he heard it in his head. He’s going to be fine now, Mamma. We’re all going to be just fine.
***
As Katrin lay in the hospital bed, increasingly dreamy and drowsy from the painkillers, the events of the morning lost their sharp edges, but she couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened if Erik hadn’t come to save her. She shuddered lightly, fending off the increasing need for sleep.
Erik. Erik. Thank God for Erik.
She wanted Erik. She needed to see him, thank him, touch his face and tell him how much she loved him. Now. Before she fell asleep.
The nurse asked her if she needed anything. “All set now, honey?”
“How long do I need to stay?”
“Well, you got lucky with your arm. It’s just badly bruised, not broken, but you took a couple of bad blows to the head. I think they want to rule out a concussion. My guess is that you’ll go home tomorrow morning.”
“Can you, um…ask my boyfriend to come in?”
“Why don’t you just rest now?”
“I want to see him. His name is Erik. Erik Lindstrom. He’s tall and blond and he’s probably very worried.”
“Doctor told the family you’re going to be just fine. I’m sure they’ll let him know.”
Katrin thought of Erik’s bleak eyes in the ambulance. She reached out and took the nurse’s wrist with her uninjured hand. “I’m a nurse too. I used to work here in this hospital. Maternity. I know you’re not supposed to
