South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) (17 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

    
 
R
oland stood on the edge of the meadow watching something move quietly through the wood. He considered slipping back to the house for his rifle, but waited. After several minutes a young moose emerged from the tree line and looked up cautiously, then wandered back towards the undergrowth.

      Sinking to sit on a stump in the evening mist, he let his shoulders relax. Roland realized that he had been on edge for several days, nightmares of the ravine sneaking into his nights and flashes of horrible memories into his days. He walked back to the house and stopped in the path, looking up at the building.

      The windows were bright with light and he could see Emma washing dishes at the sink alone. The walkway was bordered in tumbling marigolds finishing their season, still bright in the setting sunlight. He turned and looked at the sunset on the meadow and along the creek and scowled. There was beauty still. In the same world where there could be animals suffering a horrific death there was still a sky streaked in vibrant colors, a vivid cardinal pecking in the bush. There was a woman who waited patiently inside a beautiful home, his beautiful home, who had not asked for any explanation or pushed to make him talk. He touched his thigh and recalled the fear that he would never walk, never run, never dance and never become a father. He swallowed hard and blew out a breath of air. He would put the experience of the ravine aside now. It was done and could not be changed. He walked into his house, straight to the kitchen. He took Emma by the shoulders and turned her to face him, looking deep into her eyes.

      “I love you,” he whispered, watching tears well up in her eyes.

      He lifted her easily and carried her up the stairs where he laid her gently on the bed and kissed her ardently.

      “Oh, Roland,” she murmured.

      He made love to her with passion, kissing her hungrily and tasting her tears on his lips. He stroked her hair from her forehead and studied her face before he entered her hungrily and she rose to meet him, starved for his love. He felt her fingers curl against his back, felt the way he always seemed to fit against her when he held her. Roland kissed her soft skin and felt her warm breasts against his chest, eager and yielding to his desire and hunger for her. He ached to free himself of the anger, the hate, and needed her to fill him with her love and desire for him. All of it exploded and released and he kissed her in gratitude and appreciation for her patience, for being a part of him.

      “Let’s go into town tomorrow,” his voice was deep and thoughtful. “Let’s have lunch and ice cream and a nice dinner at the hotel. We’ll get Tim and Rebecca and Mark and maybe he can gather up that girl he was dancing with last week. Let’s go out tomorrow and live.”

      “Let’s,” she smiled, choking back tears.

Chapter Thirty-Four

     
T
imothy sat with Mark in the kitchen at Stavewood, dressed for work, and finished a plate of marinated steak and fried eggs. The two ate well, but sat quietly, as they had all week. They could hear the sounds of the farmhands in the distance putting the cows out after milking and the big white
Chanticlee
r
rooster letting the world know it was morning, as he had several times over the last hour.

      Mark set his plate in the big porcelain sink and looked out the window as the Vancouver’s wagon pulled up the side of the house and parked by the back door.

      “Anything wrong?” Tim walked out onto the back porch.

     “Nope.” Roland stepped from the wagon and lifted Emma down into the yard.

      “It’s going to be a beautiful Sunday and we’re going to town to enjoy it!” he said seriously.

      “Sunday?” Timothy looked at Mark and scratched his head.

      “Oh, yeah,” Mark chuckled. “It
is
Sunday!”

      “That’s right,” Roland confirmed. “We’re going to have ice cream and see the sights and go to the hotel for a fine dinner. Get dressed.”

      Timothy looked at the two together in the yard and nodded in agreement. “Perfect!” he called out.

      “Rebecca!” he hollered up the big staircase as he took the stairs two at a time. “It’s Sunday. Get Loo, we’re going to town!”

      Rebecca stepped out into the hall in her night robe and looked at the man as if he had lost his mind.

      “We’re doing what?” She lifted a tendril of her hair from her face.

      “We are going to town with the Vancouvers today and we’re going to have fun!”

      Rebecca leaned and peered down to the foyer where Emma stood waving, a soft smile on her face.

      Rebecca looked up at her husband and smiled knowingly. “That sounds perfect,” she said and turned to get her morning bath.

      Roland returned from the wagon and set two pies on the kitchen counter.

      “Breakfast!” he announced. “Fresh baked this morning!”

      “Wow,” Mark mumbled, peering at the pastries with interest.

      “What are the odds of you finding your friend from the dance today and bringing her along?” Roland asked, cutting into the pies with a large pocket knife.

      “I dunno,” Mark replied distractedly, watching Roland drop a generous slice of pie onto a plate. “She’s Densmore’s cousin. If I ask her we might have to bring Abigail too.”

      “The more the merrier!” Timothy put his plate down in front of Roland and waited for pie.

      “Alright,” Mark filled his mouth, several chokecherries sticking to his lip.

      “I guess the pies are fine,” Emma returned to the kitchen with Rebecca and Louisa, both looking fresh and eager to start the day, and shook her head.

      The families decided to share Timothy’s big wagon, Tim, Rebecca and Louisa on the front bench, the other couple the back, with Mark beside them. The women were happy and enthusiastic, thrilled to see the spell of the horrible experience of the ravine now being broken and put behind them. The fire was seen for miles and as word spread of the horrendous situation many of the local breeders and farmers came to the houses wanting to hear the details. Both women had overheard enough to imagine what their men had been through, but could not change the situation. Now they were eager to move on, as were the men, and the mood was happy and appreciative.

      “Abigail went with her friend to the fair just outside of town and Virginia is changing and coming with us.” Mark stood in front of the Densmore house, his hands in his pockets. “I guess she’s going to be a few minutes,” he scowled.

      “That’s fine.” Timothy let down the reins. “She can’t very well go without looking at least as good as the ladies we already have with us. Get used to it, boy.” Tim chuckled and Rebecca eyed him threateningly.

      “It’s always worth the wait though,” Roland smiled.

      Virginia showed herself quickly, her hair no longer in bouncing curls but instead soft and long and straight along her back.

      “I like your hair better,” Mark commented as he helped her into the wagon.

      The group began their day at the fair, starting with a spin around on the carousel. The women sat side saddle in their cotton dresses, Rebecca holding Louisa on a brightly painted horse, adorned in gold ribbons, as the men waved and smiled. Rebecca refused the Ferris wheel, but the other couples hurried into the line. When they returned they found Rebecca and Timothy and their daughter laughing and enjoying ice cream as they watched a wagon passing through carrying prizewinning ears of corn as tall as trees.

      “I saw some beautiful post cards.” Emma pulled her cousin aside to the stands. “We can send them to England. Wouldn’t that be something?” They purchased several, picturing horses and wreathes and all saying, ‘1901 Billington Fair’.

      The fair illustrator drew sketches of the families, silly caricatures that the men thought hysterical.

      In the afternoon Timothy and his family found a shady spot and lay a blanket under a tree so that Rebecca and Louisa could rest. Mark and Virginia pursued their quest to enjoy each ride twice and Roland and Emma tried their hands at the arcade games.

      “Look at that over there.” Emma noticed a man at the edge of the arcade area with several big boxes and a large ‘For Sale’ sign. Emma strolled over and peered into the first box which was filled with kittens in an array of colors. The second box held rabbits and the third several puppies, one very different from the rest. Emma recognized the odd puppy’s breed immediately as a Collie, very similar to a dog a friend of hers had in England.

      “Where did you get him?” she asked curiously. She had heard the dogs were rare and expensive and wondered how the man came to have one.

      “Ah, he’s a refugee that one.” He lifted the tiny creature from the box and placed it in Emma’s hands. “He fell overboard from a liner and I fished him from the water. Named him Émigré.”

      The puppy was a golden ball of fur with a sharp nose and gentle eyes. Emma loved him immediately.

      Roland watched her with the pet, running her finger along his back and rubbing his fuzzy ears.

      “He’s awfully small,” he remarked, taking the tiny puppy and inspecting him closely.

      “If he’s the type of dog I think he is, he won’t stay small. He looks like a Collie. They get big and beautiful.”

       “How much?” Roland asked the man seriously. The dog looked gentle and affectionate, in need of a good bath and brushing, but healthy and well fed. He had recently thought that having a dog around the house might be a good idea and clearly Emma was smitten.

      “We can get him?” Emma’s eyes lit up.

      “You don’t want him?” Roland smiled at her warmly.

      Emma kissed the puppy’s head and Roland’s cheek with appreciation.

      “We’ll need a box too,” he handed the man the few dollars he asked for, gesturing to the stack of empty boxes behind him.

      Roland carried the box to the tree where the Elgersons rested, Emma nuzzling the animal in her hands and Louisa jumped to her feet.

      “You got a doggie?” She scampered to Emma who squatted down with the pup and set him on the grass.

      “He is the most beautiful doggie I ever saw!” Louisa exclaimed, laying her head in the grass and watching the animal closely. “He has a pink tongue!” She squealed as he began to lick her face and climb over her. The puppy was taken with the child and Roland smiled. A good watch dog was great, but a good pet was even more valuable.

      They sat under the shady tree all involved with watching Louisa and the puppy frolic and play on the lawn, the child giggling incessantly and the pup barking a tiny woof whenever she got too far from him.

      “Where did you get that?” Mark and Virginia ran to the dog and began to play.

      “Roland bought it,” Rebecca remarked.

      “He’s so cute!” Virginia laughed as the puppy nibbled her fingers.

      Abigail and her friends watched her cousin sitting on the lawn, laughing easily with Mark Elgerson and his family. She had tried to catch Mark’s eye for years, but it was plain he was much easier with her cousin then he had ever been with her. Her plans to leave Virginia at home had obviously not gone the way she had intended.

      Emma touched Roland’s hand as they sat on the soft grass watching the young people playing with the dog. He took her hand and put her fingertips to his lips and kissed them softly.

      “This was a wonderful idea.” She smiled at him lovingly.

      Timothy held up his cup of lemonade and nodded. “Yes, Roland, a wonderful idea.”

      “Agreed,” Rebecca remarked, watching the smiles on everyone’s faces.

      The adults finished their day of relaxing with a hearty meal in the soft candlelight of the hotel for dinner, while Mark took Virginia and Louisa for a hamburger at the ice cream shop, the puppy completely tuckered out and curled up in the big box.

      Timothy raised a glass to his lips in the warmth of the fireplace at the hotel and studied the people around his table. Rebecca was beginning to look the expectant mother and his heart was filled with love for her. He considered how far they had come together, remembering the first times he held her close to him, the way she always looked into his eyes as if she loved him completely.

      He watched Roland and Emma, their heads close together, the obvious affection they shared, apparent to anyone who saw them. He recalled the day that Roland first attempted to get on his feet after the accident, the dark despair in his eyes when the doctor informed him he may never walk again, that there were things he should expect to forgo in his life. He watched Emma’s eyes, clear and bright in the candlelight and thought of how different she looked the day she arrived at Stavewood.

      Timothy Elgerson knew that life was not always easy, and that it would be hard again, but right now, in this warm and comfortable dining room it was just about perfect.