‘What do you think happened?’
She didn’t dare look at Gösta. Various scenarios, each one worse than the last, kept running through her mind. Whenever she tried to seize hold of one of them, wanting to understand, the pain was so great she could hardly breathe.
‘There’s no use in speculating,’ said Gösta gently, reaching out to place his hand on hers. His calm concern slowly warmed her.
‘But she’s been missing such a long time now.’
Gösta squeezed her hand.
‘It’s summer and it’s warm outside. She’s not going to freeze. The woods cover a large area, there’s a lot of territory to search, and we simply need a few more hours. I’m sure we’ll find her, and she’ll be scared and upset, but no harm done. Okay?’
‘Except … that’s not what happened to the other little girl.’
Gösta pulled away his hand and took a sip of coffee.
‘That was thirty years ago, Eva. Another lifetime, another era. It’s pure coincidence that you’re living on this farm, and it’s pure coincidence that your daughter is the same age. Four-year-olds get lost. They’re filled with curiosity and, from what I understand, your daughter is a lively little girl with an adventurous streak. Which means it’s probably not so strange that she couldn’t resist venturing into the woods. Obviously it didn’t turn out the way she’d expected, but we’re going to find her. There are so many of us searching.’
He stood up.
‘Thanks for the coffee. I’ll head back out now. We’ll keep searching all night, but it would be a good idea for you to get some sleep.’
Eva shook her head. How could she sleep while Nea was out there in the woods?
‘I didn’t think you’d want to,’ said Gösta, ‘but at least I tried.’
She stared at the door after he closed it behind him. She was alone again. Alone with her thoughts and the cold fingers gripping her heart.
Elin leaned forward to make Britta’s bed. Then she straightened up and pressed her hand to her lower back. She was not yet accustomed to sleeping on the hard bed in the maid’s quarters.
As she looked down at the comfortable bed where Britta slept, she allowed herself to feel something like envy, but only for a moment. With a shake of her head, she reached for the empty pitcher on the night table.
It had come as a surprise to discover that her sister did not share either a bedroom or a bed with her husband. But it was not her place to judge. For her part, she had always thought the best time of day was when she could climb into bed next to Per. Resting safely in his arms had made her feel that she and Märta would never come to harm in the world.
How wrong she had been.
‘Elin?’
She started when she heard the gentle voice of the master of the house. She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she nearly dropped the pitcher.
‘Yes?’ she said, pausing to collect herself before turning around.
His kind blue eyes were fixed on her, and she felt the blood rush to her face. Quickly she lowered her eyes.
She did not know how to behave around her sister’s husband. Preben was always so kind to her and Märta. He was both a vicar and master of the house. And she was merely a servant in her sister’s employ. A widow living on the mercy of a household that was not her own.
‘Lill-Jan says you can cure milk fever. My best milk cow is afflicted.’
‘Is it Stjärna?’ asked Elin, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. ‘The boy mentioned something about it this morning.’
‘Yes, Stjärna. Are you busy or might you come with me to have a look at her?’
‘Yes, of course I will come.’
She set the pitcher on the night table and silently followed Preben out to the cowshed. Stjärna lay on the stable floor at the very back, bellowing. She was clearly in pain and unable to stand. Elin nodded to the boy named Lill-Jan who stood nearby, looking dismayed.
‘Go to the kitchen and get me some salt.’
She squatted down and cautiously caressed the cow’s soft muzzle. Stjärna’s eyes were wide with fear.
‘Will you be able to help her?’ asked Preben quietly as he too patted the brown-and-white spotted cow.
For a second their hands touched. Elin swiftly pulled hers away, as if she had been bitten by a snake. Again she felt the blood rush to her face, and she noticed a slight flush on the master’s face before he straightened up as Lill-Jan returned, out of breath.
‘Here you are,’ said the boy with that lisp of his, and he handed the container of salt to Elin.
She poured a mound of salt into the palm of her left hand. With the index finger of her right hand she stirred the salt in a clockwise direction as she loudly spoke the words her maternal grandmother had taught her:
‘Our Lord Jesus, he journeys far and wide, curing pox and blight, water bane and all manner of banes between heaven and earth. In God’s name, amen.’
‘Amen,’ said Preben, and Lill-Jan hurried to chime in.
Stjärna bellowed.
‘What happens now?’ asked Preben.
‘All we can do now is wait. Praying over salt most often will do the trick, but it can take time, and it also depends on how bad the fever is. But have a look at her early in the morning. I think this will have helped.’
‘Hear that, Lill-Jan?’ said Preben. ‘Look in on Stjärna as soon as you get up in the morning.’
‘That I will, master,’ said Lill-Jan, backing his way out of the cowshed.
Preben turned to Elin.
‘Where did you learn such things?’
‘From my grandmother,’ said Elin tersely.
She could still feel the touch of his hand.
‘What else can you cure?’ asked Preben, leaning against one of the stalls.
She scraped her toe on the ground, pausing before she answered.
‘Most things as long as the pain is not too far gone.’
‘Both people and animals?’ asked Preben curiously.
‘Yes,’ replied Elin.
It surprised her that Britta had never mentioned this to her husband. Yet the boy Lill-Jan had heard rumours about Elin’s skills. Perhaps that was not
