South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

    
 
A
s Emma walked the path to the Vancouver property, Roland stepped from the barn and crossed the yard towards her. She realized for the first time that he moved with barely a hitch in his step and she nearly cried.

      “Look at you!” she gasped as he approached her.

      He looked down at his dusty pants and shirt.

      “Oh,” he frowned. “I just cleaned out the stables. I guess you don’t want me to touch you.”

      “No, of course you can touch me. I meant your leg! You’re walking so well!”

      “I have you to thank for that.” He kissed her lightly and Emma was sure he blushed.

      “How does it feel?” Without thinking she moved alongside him and reached down to feel his thigh.

      “Better all the time.” He cleared his throat.

      “Oh,” she gasped. “I don’t want to distract you from your work.”

      “Too late,” he smiled.

      She kissed his cheek and smoothed his hair lovingly.

      “I have something I want to show you. I’ll wash up,” he said, “and we can have lunch.”

      He moved the mug of flowers from the table and rolled out a long expanse of paper.

      “Blueprints?” Emma asked.

      “Yes, house plans.” He set books on the corners to keep the edges flat.

      “This is beautiful,” she gasped. “Are you thinking of this for the meadow?” She studied the floor plan carefully and admired a sketch of the finished house.

      The drawing was of a Dutch Colonial, with a gambrel roof, like a barn. The entrance was situated on the long side of the house and the sketch depicted dormered windows and a large, enclosed, side porch.

      “I had trouble finding one that didn’t have the door on one end.” Roland rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I thought it might be nice facing the meadow. The back of the house would be closer to the road, but it could be modified for a porch most of the way around.” He scratched his head. “Do you like it?”

      “You could build this?”

      “Not alone, but yes. We could build this out there.”

      “Roland, I love it!” She counted the bedrooms on the plan and tried to imagine the house tucked away off the road. “This is a lot of house,” she remarked.

      “Too much?” he looked up at her.

      “No,” her voice trailed off. “Three bedrooms sound good. It has a nice pantry, and look,” she grinned. “There’s a balcony on this side over the porch! It’s right off the area where the meadow opens! We could sit outside and enjoy the view. Roland, this is perfect!”

      “Really?” he asked excitedly. “I like it very much, but it’s up to you.”

      “I love it,” she hugged him enthusiastically. “And I love that the back of the house will face the road and the front the meadow. People can ride around when they come. Who will come anyway?”

      “Not planning on entertaining?” He grinned.

      “We will, I suppose.” She studied the blueprint. “A garden, here maybe?” She indicated a spot on the plans in the lower corner.

      “Let’s build it first,” he laughed. “I was hoping to break ground before we get too much later in the season.”

      “Really?” she looked surprised. “You’re just going to start?”

      “Why not? You like it right?”

      “I do, very much,” she grinned. “Okay, let’s do it!” She kissed his cheek excitedly.

      “I expect we’ll have to winter here. Maybe you’ll want to stay at Stavewood through the winter months.” He frowned.

      “Why would I do that?”

      “There are other people there and there’s that indoor plumbing. It’s liable to get very isolated out here in the winter and it’s a long walk. I’ll be at the mill or at the building site a lot of the time.”

      “The day we’re married this will be my home. I’ll stay right here, thank you!” she announced. Roland flashed a broad grin and rolled up the plans as Emma set out lunch.

      “What is going to happen with those horses?” Emma asked as she dipped her spoon into the hot soup.

      “I’m not sure. I know Mark has his eye on the filly, but until we know where they belong, no one should claim them.”

      “That mare didn’t look as if she had been cared for in a long time. Do you think they’re wild?”

      “Doubtful. Tim seems to think there’re from the Weintraub property.” He dipped a hefty chunk of bread into the thick broth hungrily.

      “Didn’t they take all the horses after the shootings?” Emma asked.

      “I thought so, but the fences were in bad shape and the whole place was near collapse. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are horses living out there off the farm. They had some of the finest bred animals around at one time. That filly is of good stock. Tim’s got men going out that way late in the week to see what’s going on out there. Maybe Jude had been living out there. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

      They finished their meal in silence and Emma looked across the room at the blueprints, rolled neatly by the door and sighed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

    
 
T
he sun rose soft and clear on the morning of the Vancouver wedding. The ceremony was to be small and private. It would be witnessed from a unique perspective by Louisa, Mark, Rebecca, Timothy, Isabel, Roland and Emma, each of them to hold a unique piece of the memory that would be the next wedding at Stavewood.

      Louisa sat in the corner of the master bedroom at Stavewood, dropping pink rose petals into the basket thoughtfully. She marveled in the delicacy of them, the scent, the silky feeling, and gentle coloring. She looked up and watched the women fussing over cousin Emma who stood looking into the big mirror.

      Emma’s gown was as delicate and silken as the petals, soft and shimmering in the warm glow of the setting sun as it filtered through the lace curtains. Rebecca had twisted her cousin’s hair into gently curled tendrils around Emma’s face and a spray of tiny flowers caught up in the back where her hair tumbled down her slender back. To Louisa she looked like the big dolls in the shop windows that wore the clothes you could buy, but she thought Emma was much more beautiful today. Her face was pretty and happy and she smiled at the girl affectionately. Louisa decided that she loved weddings at Stavewood more than anything else. One day she would grow up and she wanted a wedding dress too, and for everyone to be happy and in love.

      Louisa held her mother’s hand as she went down the stairs one at a time and waited for the signal that it was time to begin. When she stepped into the doorway she saw her father, his hands clasped in front of him, smiling at her proudly and it made her feel special and important. Her mother was smiling as well, looking at her and she wanted to be the best flower girl that she could be. Mr. Vancouver nodded to her, and Mark winked, and her mother told her that it was time to begin. Louisa scattered the petals carefully, just the way she had practiced earlier, down the center of the parlor and then took her place next to the groom quietly.

      She looked up and watched Roland’s face when he saw Emma coming down the stairs. He looked so handsome in his nice suit, and so big and tall. Mr. Vancouver looked at the bride and smiled nicer than Louisa had ever seen him smile. He even smiled at her with his eyes, she thought.

      When they stood together and the magistrate told them what to say, they said the words very carefully. It was good he told them what to say, Louisa thought, because there seemed to be a lot they had to say for a wedding.

      When Mr. Vancouver kissed her cousin Emma it was just perfect. He hugged her close to him and everyone was so happy.

      There was nothing more perfect than love, Louisa thought.

      Mark slipped his jacket on quickly and adjusted his collar, checking his reflection in the tall mirror. He would not enjoy wearing a dress jacket all the time, he thought, but it had its advantages now and again. It had certainly gotten the attention of all of the girls his own age at his folk’s wedding, he admitted to himself.

      He pondered how his father, and Mr. Vancouver acted, all of the time, but especially when they were dressed up. His father always had an easy way about him, a natural charm that had made the women take notice as long as Mark could remember. Funny though, he thought, that his father had not changed that about himself after he had met Rebecca. There was no question that Timothy saw only her when it came to a woman, but the ladies still swooned a bit whenever his father nodded their way or he tipped his hat to them. Mark had always measured himself against the man, even though he was not his natural father. Now, Mark began to feel that he didn’t want to be Timothy Elgerson, he could simply be himself. He tugged at his sleeves in the mirror.

      Mr. Vancouver was a different man altogether. He had always been stern, even a bit severe, and didn’t turn on any charm, but the ladies would whisper after him as he passed anyway. Now that he was happier, Mark had seen a transformation in him. At the mill he was still very much in charge, but when he talked to a man about his performance he would encourage him and usually shake his hand, sometimes going as far as grasping their arm. Mark saw the respect the workers already had change into something almost reverent and it had them all working even harder than before, and enjoying it more.

      The young man studied his reflection and wondered about what kind of a man he wanted to be himself.

      He stepped out into the hall just as the flock of women inside hurried out. He watched Rebecca take Loo’s hand as Grandmother Isabel followed them down the hall, leaving Emma standing nervously alone.

      Mark really liked the girl very much, and today she looked stunning and interestingly feminine. He liked that she’d wrap her skirt around and tuck it into her waistband to work in the garden, and she wasn’t squeamish over bugs. She was beautiful and very unpretentious at the same time. He was happy to see her now with a blush in her cheeks and a twinkle in her eye. She had changed as much as Roland, he thought. Love made you look different.

      He liked Rebecca too, though she was a very different woman. Always ladylike and kind, she was almost always well dressed and proper, but her heart was compassionate and she was always sweet. He wondered what the woman in his life would be like when he met her. He knew he’d recognize her right away. He had seen the men around him recognize the woman that was right for them immediately.

      “You look very beautiful,” he said to Emma as he passed her and he nodded to her. “Roland’s eyes are going to pop right out of his head!”

      She giggled softly. “Now that would be something to see!” she grinned.

      Mark stood and watched her come into the room and turned slightly to watch Roland’s face. “That’s the look,” he thought. “That’s the look I’ll have when I see the right girl.”

      Rebecca finished Emma’s hair and stepped back to admire her cousin. She choked back tears at the sight of her, healthy and beautiful and completely in love, dressed splendidly and as beautiful as a perfect rosebud on her wedding day.

      When Emma entered the room for the ceremony she was glowing and when Roland looked at her his eyes were warm and filled with love. Rebecca could not deny that the man had completely changed since her cousin had come into his life. Once gloomy and self-contained, she now saw a man tall and proud, at ease with himself, and more handsome than she had ever realized.

      Now more than ever, she thought of Stavewood as her home and smiled with pride and pleasure that her beloved Emma was to be a bride here. A tear came to her eye.

      Timothy Elgerson ran his finger along inside the collar of his dress jacket and stretched his neck as his wife’s cousin entered the room. He looked at her as if noticing her for the first time. This was certainly not the same thin and plain woman he had met only a few months ago. This woman had a stunning figure and her graceful stance gave her the look of a fine piece of art. He had come to genuinely love the girl, open and sincere and wholesome in her approach to everything. He cared for her as if she were a wonderful sister, someone you knew you could always count on to be straight with you. Somehow he hadn’t noticed her before as a woman like this. No wonder Roland had changed so much. This girl was a stunning beauty as well.

      He turned to his friend and watched the look on his face. He knew the man’s point of view. He had a woman he loved and wanted more than anything beside him every day of his life. He was happy for Roland, thinking he was a fellow who deserved happiness. Roland was a good man, a hard worker and forthright person. He smiled down to his petite wife and took her hand. He remembered sitting alone in the upstairs hall, some years ago, with his pistol at his side. He had felt that there was no hope then, no reason to go on. He frowned and thought how thankful he was that he was wrong. Stavewood was becoming the home that he had always wanted, filled with family and friends, and today was exactly the kind of day he had imagined.

      Isabel watched a young bride being fussed over on her wedding day, one of those days you are supposed to remember all of your life. She thought about how it wasn’t so much the big days like this one that she dwelled on now, but those little times you wouldn’t expect. They were the special memories that stood out in her mind.

      She knew this lovely young woman would remember her gown and her hair, and how handsome her groom looked as he waited for her. She knew that the best part of today was that they would be joined together now, connected in a way that would stay with them all of their lives. Today they made a vow to one another that, no matter what, would always remain.

      As she witnessed the love in the couple’s eyes she believed that this union was one that would endure. One day they would remember those special looks, the little considerations done for one another, those special moments and little kindnesses. She was so thankful now for all of those. She sighed with happiness to be a part of it all beginning anew and pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve.

      Emma stepped cautiously down the big staircase at Stavewood and then into the doorway. The floor was covered in Louisa’s pink petals and Emma took a deep breath. She asked no one to walk her down the aisle. She had decided she would walk to her groom alone. She was no young girl who needed to be given away. She’d seen too much for that.

      She lifted her chin and saw him there, formal and upright in his tuxedo. His white shirt contrasted with the black suit, complimenting the way his dark hair contrasted against his fair skin. He had brushed it to a silky shine and it fell easy and smooth to his shoulders. He stood tall and proud. His face changed from a solemn look to full appreciation and his smiled broadly, showing off his high cheekbones.

      Roland watched her move towards him with quiet grace, the soft sheen of her gown smooth against her slender body. For a moment he thought he must be in a dream. He could not imagine ever having seen a more beautiful woman anywhere, not just to his eyes but to his heart. He could hardly believe she was his, coming now towards him. His life could not be more perfect, he thought, than this moment.

      She walked slowly to his side and he kissed her hand reverently. Emma blushed deeply and fought to hold back her tears.

      They spoke their vows clearly and when he pulled her to him after the final “I do”, he nearly took her breath away.

      A soft breeze blew through the open window of Stavewood, barely perceptible, like a soft kiss upon one’s cheek. Louisa saw the curtain move slightly and smiled with contentment.