South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) (23 page)

Chapter Forty-Six

    
 
T
imothy Elgerson watched a wagon rattle along the roadway as he returned from his trip to Billington. He rode slowly and quietly, always cautious when he met a stranger on the road towards Stavewood. He knew he did not recognize the vehicle, or the men inside. A third generation landowner in the area, he had seen all types of folks pass through, not all of them friendly. He had heard the stories of his father and grandfather, men who looked for the best in others, but often found the worst. He watched the wagon, covered in a filthy piece of canvas, turn down the road to the Weintraub ranch and kicked his team towards home.

      “Maybe they’re just looking to buy the place,” Rebecca reasoned.

      “Then we’ll just welcome them to the neighborhood,” he replied as he checked his rifle.

      “All set, Pa.” Mark returned from the Vancouver house with Roland, both men were armed and waited in the foyer.

      “I wish you would just not take weapons up to meet new neighbors.” Rebecca wrung her hands nervously.

      “If they are new neighbors. We won’t know until we talk to them.”

      The three men mounted their horses in the yard behind the estate and Rebecca watched them ride off apprehensively.

      Timothy approached the house cautiously, gun tucked away under his jacket, while Roland and Mark hung back watching from a covered position. The wagon he’d seen on the road sat in front of the house and Timothy gave it a quick once over. The contrivance was old and well used, repaired in several places. All of the maintenance was done haphazardly and the wheels were mismatched and battered. The nag that pulled the vehicle was old and his hide bore the marks of years of cruelty. Timothy knew that a man who drove their horse with abuse was usually not a good neighbor. He shook his head obviously so that Roland and the boy saw him and climbed the porch of the house.

      The neglect of the home had been apparent even several years earlier before the Weintraubs had all died. Now there was a busy hornet’s nest high above the front door and it appeared that several windows had collapsed into the house.

      Timothy knocked on the door loudly and stepped aside. He waited and then knocked again.

      After several minutes a man answered the door. He was thin, likely in his mid-forties, and missing several teeth. Although he stood a good distance from the man Timothy could smell the liquor on the man’s breath.

      “Good afternoon,” Timothy stood straight to his full height. “I live up the way and I’m just checking on the place. My name is Elgerson and you are…?”

      The man stared at Timothy blankly and stumbled back into the doorway. Another man, much younger and somewhat more sober, appeared in his place.

      “Hiya.” The man walked up to Timothy and held out his hand. “You gotta excuse my brother here. He’s feeling a bit under the weather. I’m Victor Leach.”

      “Pleased to meet you,” Timothy shook the man’s hand suspiciously.

      “My brother and I heard that this place was for sale and we’re coming by to give it a look see.” Timothy took a step back from the man which was a sign to Roland. He knew that the ranch was still being held by the bank and was not available for purchase.

      Roland Vancouver strolled up casually at the signal from his friend. He walked steadily, with conviction, and stepped up onto the porch, his heavy boots sounding hollow against the worn boards. “Evening, Tim,” he said casually. “What’s going on?”

      The stranger on the porch took a step back toward the door. “I was just telling Mister Everson here that we came out to get a look at the place,” he said. “We’re looking to buy in the area. This looks a bit run down though so we won’t be staying.”

      “Elgerson,” Timothy corrected.

      “I see,” Roland remarked and both he and Timothy stood their ground.

      The stranger gathered his partner and both men headed for the wagon.

      Mark watched from his vantage point until the vehicle disappeared on the road towards town and then joined Roland and his father. Inside the house they found several empty liquor bottles and places where someone had urinated.

      Timothy had long wanted to see the building destroyed. The house was beyond repair and a lure for animals and people like those who had just pulled away. Jude Thomas would have been the rightful heir to the land, but the taxes had not been paid in years and the bank now had frozen the title. It concerned Elgerson that the house was not located near the road and was hard to find, yet these two outsiders had known exactly how to reach it. The men discussed how they might keep watch for future incidents and headed for home.

Chapter Forty-Seven

     
É
migré bared his teeth inside the kitchen door at the Vancouver home and sank down to his haunches. The hair along his spine stood up straight. At almost a year old he was near full-size, and at over 50 pounds he was a stunning, well-cared for canine. Thickly covered in an abundant coat of fur, he had been confined to the house for the day, following a thorough bath and vigorous brushing.

      Emma looked up from bathing Ottland in the big porcelain sink and stopped still. She had heard the dog bark often when something alarmed him, or sometimes when he would tree a possum or squirrel, but never had he shown his teeth the way she was witnessing now. He hunkered low to the floor and backed away one step from the door.

      “Maybe he heard Roland in the yard,” she whispered aloud. But, he had planned to stop at Stavewood to go over some business after spending the day at the mill and Emma did not expect him just yet. And besides, Émigré would know Roland’s familiar footsteps in the yard.

      She watched him maintain his protective stance and finished bathing the baby quickly, wrapping him in a dry towel. She turned down the lamp and spoke to the dog softly.

      “Émigré,” her voice was calm. The dog did not turn to face her, but twisted an ear in acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving the door. After several seconds he paced across the kitchen, always facing the door and Emma took the child and went to the hall. On this very warm August evening every window in the house was open. She stood in the foyer and tried to decide what she ought to do.

      On his first day back at the mill, Roland Vancouver was overcome by the warm reception he received from the mill crew. The greetings and smiles on the men’s faces only further illustrated how he had changed, not only since meeting his wife, but even more after nearly losing her. Now he was a husband and a father and he saw the world in a different way. He vowed to be a better foreman and a better man. He would not disappoint Timothy Elgerson and would run the mill to the best of his ability, but he would run it in a different way. A better way, he thought.

      On the walk back to Stavewood, at the end of the day, he realized how happy he was to get back to work, to what he did best. He knew Emma was well enough now to be home during the day, and would soon be up to meeting him for lunch again. He followed Timothy into the estate where he smelled a fine dinner cooking and he enjoyed the warmth of the family there.

      “I look forward to the day Emma is up to walking over.” Rebecca settled Louisa in her chair in the family dining room.

      “Not as much as she is herself,” Roland replied as a generous plate was set before him. “She was telling me that she was going crazy in the house and, without the baby and the view, she might be completely miserable.”

      “We’ll all be glad to see her out and visiting again,” Timothy remarked.

      “And I need her in my garden. Nothing seems to grow as well without her.” Rebecca took a bite of the tender beef.

      Mark smiled in agreement as the family enjoyed their meal together.

      For several minutes Emma watched the dog growing more uneasy. She considered that she might leave the house. It appeared that Émigré was following whatever was outside through the house from the inside. If someone was outside and wanted to rob the place she might be able to get away, get to the cabin quickly and stay there until Roland came to look for her.

      She struggled with the possibility of letting the dog out but feared for his safety. She worried what would happen if Roland were to encounter whoever it was while returning home.

      He had been watching the girl, this stranger, for several days now. She would hang her clothing on the line, her body slim and slender. When she bent to reach into the basket he could watch her trim backside and imagine the filthy things he would like to do to her. He had waited for so many days for the man to leave and he began to wonder if he ever left home at all. Once he had gone, early that morning, the stranger had followed a good distance until he was sure the man had left for the day. He had lain in wait through the heat of the day, watching her from the woods. He didn’t see the dog today and thought it must be off running. He knew that the animal had a loud bark, but when he had crept up to the window on this evening he didn’t hear the rousing howl of the animal.

      He thought she was beautiful and was told that she enjoyed being taken, that she was only keeping up appearances living as wife to the man. His cell mate had told him about her so many times. Told him what she liked, her and the tiny dark woman up the road at the big house. She would feign a lack of desire, but she would love what he wanted to do to her.

      Roland thanked the Elgersons for the meal and started his walk home. The air was warm, with barely a breeze and he looked forward to getting back to his family and the cool of the meadow. He knew Emma would be waiting and that she grew stronger every day. He looked forward to holding his son and the coming years of watching him grow.

      Emma watched the knob on the back door turn and squeak slowly and softly. The collie curled his lip and prepared to attack when Emma grasped the fur at the back of his neck and pulled him back from the door.

      “Shhhh…” she hushed, so that the animal could barely hear her. He backed up as she directed and followed her quickly up the stairs.

      The woman closed the bathroom door behind her from the big bedroom. She had left the child upon a soft blanket inside of the big copper tub. Beside the bathtub the collie sat, on his guard. She knew if anyone got through the door the animal would do everything in his power to protect the baby. The armoire was tall, and she balanced carefully on the chair, reaching up to retrieve the revolver from the top. As she reached, a stitch formed in her side and she held her waist for a moment until the pain passed. She climbed again for the box of bullets, stepped down and dropped it on the bed.

Chapter Forty-Eight

  
 
T
he door slammed against the wall as it flew open, startling Emma and she dropped the gun beside the bed. The man stood in the doorway and she faced him from the other side of the room.

      His grin was threatening and she felt a chill along the back of her neck. She stared him straight in the eyes, attempting to assess her choices. She could submit to him and possibly he would leave the babe alone, or she could fight. Instinct told her that surrendering might mean her death and she decided to face him head on.

      “You’re even prettier up close,” the stranger hissed. “I know all about you. You like it rough. I guarantee I won’t disappoint.”

      “You most definitely have the wrong woman.” She spoke to him clearly, although her knees were shaking and her hands trembled.

      Though she was unsure if the gun was completely loaded, she lunged for the weapon, and the man leapt towards her from across the room, pinning her to the floor. He raised his hand to her and slapped her violently, drawing blood from her lip. Emma kicked him hard in the knee and pulled from underneath him as he grabbed her arm. She fought to twist away as he tore her bodice, the loud rip of the summer dress setting the dog to barking from inside the bath.

      The man breathed hard against her neck, his breath foul and reeking of liquor. Emma raised her knee up hard and he rolled to one side in pain, but was quickly on his feet again. She grabbed the gun and fired. But her aim was hurried and uncertain and the bullet merely grazed his upper arm. He threw her again to the floor and attempted to mount her crudely.

      Roland Vancouver heard the report of the revolver and knew immediately that the sound came from his home. He ran frantically and could hear the barking of the collie as he entered his yard. He called out his wife’s name at the bottom of the stairs but the only response he heard was the vicious yelping of the dog and Emma’s screams.

      When he reached the doorway of his bedroom he saw the man on top of his wife as he forced himself on her. Roland grabbed the man by the shirt and pulled him violently from the girl, standing him upright in front of him and landing a hard fist against the man’s jaw.

      Emma scrambled to the bathroom door and pulled it open quickly, letting out the big dog who quickly joined the fray with Roland and the stranger.

      Émigré bit hard into the stranger’s forearm and the man struggled to disengage the animal while the dog growled and clamped down. Roland landed another hard fist and the man staggered back into the hall where Emma’s next bullet met his chest.

  The young woman collapsed to the floor as the dog stood in the doorway, continuing to bark loudly. Roland ran to his wife and helped her to her feet. He held her to him as Ottland cried hard, terrified in the big copper tub, his pitiful wails echoing in the metal vessel.

      Roland sat his wife on the bed gently and knelt in front of her.

      “I’m alright,” she assured.

      He went and lifted the child from the tub, the baby red-faced, and covered in tears and perspiration.

      “Good boy,” Emma sat on the floor beside Émigré rubbing his fur appreciatively and kissing his face. The dog returned her affection and wagged his big tail, then licked away her salty tears.