Page 101 of The Caged Viking

Or is it just desperation that I’m looking for signs in everything?

She was planning on trying to go back to Haukshire in the morning, and she was unsure whether it was the right thing to do, or the right place, or the right time. A sign would be welcome to let her know she was on the path God wanted her to be on.

Speaking…rather, thinking, of God, Kirstin had gone to Midnight Mass with her father and Angela earlier tonight. During the entire religious service, her distracted thoughts kept going to Hauk and her possible return to him, constantly praying, “Please, God, if it be thy will, help me with my journey.”

Unable to get back to sleep, Kirstin gave up after a while and walked over to the guest bedroom, tiptoeing and opening and closing the doors carefully so as not to awaken her father and Angela. They’d all been up much too late, and it was now only four a.m.

The first thing that caught her attention on entering the guest room, after she turned on the lamp, was the long blue cloak and the medieval-style, silver gown trimmed with red and green holiday colors which hung outside the closet door. The first was a gift from Madrene, the latter being one of the gowns Kirstin used in her Nordic presentations, although it wasn’t strictly of a Norse style, which favored open-sided aprons over long-sleeved gunnas, but more Saxon medieval.

During the past two weeks, Kirstin had been gathering all the items from her fantasy list, things she wanted to take with her. Somehow, she knew, or sensed that she couldn’t take anything too heavy. Even so, the pile on the bed had grown and grown. She hadn’t told her family, except for her father, what she planned, not wanting to make a fuss with tearful farewells, and she hoped to be gone this morning, long before any of them arrived for Christmas dinner.

Madrene had suspected what she was up to, though. The two of them had always been close that way, almost like twins, a connection of shared feelings. In any case, Madrene, who wouldn’t be coming to Blue Dragon for Christmas since her husband, as well as Torolf and Hamr, were unable to get out of duty at the Coronado compound, had shown up suddenly yesterday.

“You know?” Kirstin had asked her.

Madrene had nodded. “When?”

“Tomorrow. Christmas morning. Hopefully.”

Madrene, who’d been carrying a pink garment bag, said, “Show me what you’re taking.”

They’d gone up to the guest room where Madrene handed her the garment bag.

Kirstin had raised her eyebrows in question.

“An early Christmas gift.”

It was a long, royal blue velvet, white fur-lined cloak with a hood. Gorgeous.

“Good Lord! Where did you get this?”

“One of those motion picture wardrobe shops. You know, the charity thrift shops that sell used costumes. I think this must have been worn by some Disney princess.”

Kirstin had to laugh. “Madrene! I am so not the princess type.” Even so, she wrapped herself in its lushness, covering her jeans and white T-shirt, and rubbed her face against the softness.

“Yeah, but you’ll need something warm to cover you.”

“It must have been expensive,” Kirstin said, fingering the lush velvet.

“Nah! That’s fake fur, in case you haven’t noticed. And the hem is frayed.”

“Actually, the cloak will come in handy for carrying all this crap I’m taking with me.” Kirstin pointed to the items on the bed. “I had been thinking I would have to carry all this in some kind of messenger bag, strapped across my chest, but maybe I can put each of them in separate Ziplock bags and safety-pin them to the inside of the cloak.”

“That might work. Is that what you’re going to wear?” Madrene asked, looking at the full-length gown hanging on the closet door. When Kirstin nodded, Madrene said, “The cloak will match your eyes, and the gown will match your hair. Perfect!”

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to wear boots or athletic shoes. No Cinderella high heels, or even ballet slippers, considering the fact that there’s probably snow on the ground there.”

Madrene shrugged. “Needs must.”

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Kirstin inquired as she hung up the cloak.

“I don’t know.” Madrene pondered the question, then added, “If it were me, and Ian were back there, I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment.”

Well, that was answer enough for Kirstin.

They both had tears in their eyes when they hugged before Madrene drove away a short time later.

There were also tears in her father’s eyes, and tears streaming down Angela’s face, when Kirstin left them in the kitchen at eight a.m. the next morning. She had refused to have them accompany her to the site by the pond where she’d returned nine weeks ago, and warned them not to come checking on her, at least not until later. She didn’t know how long it would take, if it even worked.