Free Shining Water 01 - The Icecutter's Daughter by Tracie Peterson Page A

expression.
    She nodded. “You boys get Father in bed, and I’ll bring him something for the pain.”
    After some time, Merrill determined that her father’s back was only strained and that the horses had done little damage overall. Bogart Krause tried to argue with his daughter when she demanded he stay in bed, but Rurik got the distinct impression he wasn’t trying all that hard to fight her.
    The Krause brothers insisted Rurik stay for supper, and when the meal was finally presented, he found that his appetite wouldn’t have let him leave even if he’d wanted to. He sat between Flynn and Zadoc and marveled at the thick meatballs and gravy covering mounds of mashed potatoes and sauerkraut. He’d never eaten such a combination before but found the variety of flavors to be quite complementary. Added to this were buttery rolls the likes of which Rurik had never tasted—light and just a touch sweet. It looked like Merrill had prepared much of it ahead of time and finished it up after working the ice harvest all day and taking care of her injured father to boot!
    Merrill checked on her father from time to time and took him additional food, but otherwise she seemed content to let her brothers do all the talking. Rurik answered their questions about his work with furniture and his plans for the future, but all the while he kept his eyes on the young woman, hoping no one would notice. She was unlike anyone he’d ever known. Even his own sisters . . . the women in Rurik’s life, with exception of Svea, had all been strong, industrious workers. But Merrill seemed to outshine them all. Rurik couldn’t imagine the woman ever sat idle.
    After the meal Rurik helped to pick up the dishes while Merrill’s brothers excused themselves to see to chores. Following Merrill into the kitchen, Rurik immediately noticed the painted cabinetry.
    “This is quite beautiful,” he said, placing a stack of dishes by the sink. The cupboards were painted a powdery blue and trimmed in white. The white borders had been carefully decorated with colorful flowers and entwining green vines. “May I ask who painted the cupboards?”
    “I did,” Merrill answered as she poured hot water from the kettle into the basin.
    “You’re very talented, Miss Krause.”
    “Call me Merrill, and thank you,” she said, placing the cutlery and plates in the water to soak. “My mother taught me. She loved to paint, and I do, too.”
    Rurik made his way to a pie safe. On the doors, Merrill had created pastoral scenes for each of the four seasons. “This is charming. I think it would be a wonderful thing to offer on the furniture my uncle Carl builds. I can imagine women all over the country enjoying such a piece.” He looked back at Merrill for her response.
    She shrugged. “It’s something I do to feel close to my mother. She died when I was ten.”
    “I’m sorry for your loss, Merrill. It couldn’t have been easy growing up without any womenfolk around.”
    “It’s worked out well enough.” She shrugged. “Would you like to see a dresser my mother painted?”
    He smiled. “I’d like that very much.”
    She picked up a lamp and led the way into a small roomoff the main hallway. “She did that green piece right under the window.” She crossed the room and placed the lamp atop the dresser. “She was considerably more talented than I.”
    “Not from what I’m seeing here. I easily note the same remarkable traits. You’re both gifted.”
    Merrill smiled. “Thank you.”
    He again was struck by her expressive face, particularly her eyes.
    She seemed embarrassed by his praise, so Rurik said nothing more about her artistry. But in the back of his mind he was already making plans to speak to his uncle. It was entirely possible that Miss Krause could be a great asset to them. Painted furniture was popular, and Rurik knew there was nothing like it at the Jorgenson Furniture shops.
    Smiling to himself, he followed Merrill back to the kitchen. He