South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) (26 page)

Chapter Fifty-Three

   
 
L
ouisa Elgerson swung her legs the way her mother had shown her on the new plaything in the yard behind Stavewood. The branches from the tree that held her swing swayed in the gentle breeze. Summer was waning in Minnesota now, with shorter days and cooler nights. She leaned back and put both legs out in front, then bent her knees and leaned forward. After several attempts she began to feel the pumping sensation making the swing go a little faster and a little farther and she smiled with satisfaction. She began to pump without thinking after a while and studied the man on the edge of the woods while swinging. She looked the other way and saw another man, both sent there by her father to watch over her.

       “I can’t stand being in this house another minute on such a warm day,” Rebecca had announced earlier that day. “There are lookouts out there, and the dog hears everything. We’ll be fine. Let’s at least go outside for a couple of hours.”

      The women were dressed in bright summer dresses, pinks and greens and whites. They had laid out a large colorful quilt and Rebecca brought out her treasured wood and leather knitting box. Emma and Louisa had gathered a basket of daisies and Emma strung them into crowns. Samuel Evens, Mark’s friend, had visited, looking for the young man. He stayed, playing with Louisa for several hours and fashioned the swing that now hung from the big oak in the yard.

      Louisa’s mother sat with Emma in the shade of the big tree, the babies sleeping on a big quilt on the lawn. Émigré lay with his head on his paws, eyes closed, but ears listening, turning in attention to every sound, every bird call, every movement of the people around them. He had become as attached to little Phillip as he was to Ottland, during these last days, sleeping in the center of the floor in the nursery where the boys slept at night. If the children were separated he would pace back and forth between them, ever watchful over them both. He was so patient and attentive to the children Rebecca had decided to talk to Timothy about getting a dog at Stavewood themselves.

      Émigré perked up his head and both ears turned forward. He faced the road attentively and cocked his head to one side. Louisa noticed him first and stopped her swinging, slowing gradually and touching her toes to the ground beneath her.

       Rebecca noticed the child’s attention and signaled to Emma as the collie rose to his feet slowly and took several steps towards the road, listening and poised.

      The dog leapt to a run and raced up the lane toward the road. Louisa sat frozen on the swing and Emma jumped to her feet.

      When the carriage bearing the three men pulled from the lane of oaks onto the open area of the estate, the dog ran alongside, tongue lolling and fur rippling as he sprinted with the vehicle. It pulled to a stop at the edge of the house and swayed gently, Émigré sitting at attention. When Timothy stepped from the coach, Rebecca put her hand to her chest and rose up from the blanket slowly, then lifted her skirts and ran across the lawn. Louisa leapt from the swing and ran to her father as he vigorously petted the dog.

      Emma watched for Roland to emerge and, as he stepped from the doorway of the vehicle, her eyes filled with tears. He looked tired and handsome and so perfect and familiar to her. She had missed him terribly, and the relief of his return overwhelmed her.

       Mark climbed from the wagon and caught Louisa in his arms as she leapt towards him laughing cheerfully.

      The family fell into one another’s arms, the women overcome with tears, the men sighing with relief. Once greeted by Roland, Émigré ran to the quilt and lay down diligently, resuming his vigil of guarding the children, also relieved to have the men of his pack return home.

      Timothy hugged his daughter and kissed his wife lovingly. Rebecca hugged Mark affectionately and teased him, claiming that he had grown another two inches while he was away.

      Roland pulled Emma to him and kissed her passionately, hungry for her and feeling entirely possessive of his beautiful wife.

       It did not go unnoticed by the men that the women looked rested and safe and beautiful in their bright gowns, all with daisies in their hair.

      Mark watched the families walk back to where the babes now lifted their tiny heads from the big blanket and he smiled at the loving greetings. The men bent to kiss their wives, Timothy with Louisa on his shoulders and Roland picking up both of the babies in his strong arms. The women fussed over them protectively and Émigré circled, tail wagging in the excitement.

      Timothy looked up to the big house of Stavewood, to the trees surrounding the yard, swaying in the breeze against a vibrant blue sky. He smiled to himself. He was glad to be home.

      Mark walked to his father’s side, catching his breath, still in his jacket, after chasing Louisa across the yard.

      “Glad to be home?” Timothy grabbed the boy across the shoulders affectionately.

      “You bet,” Mark replied and looked up at the big man.

      “I know learning the business isn’t a lot of fun at your age, but it gets easier. If you can find the time in-between your studies you might want to think about breaking in that filly. I think you’ve earned it.”

      “Really?” Mark gasped in excitement.

      “Have you named her yet?”

      “Strawberry,” he replied enthusiastically.

      “Why did I know it would have something to do with food?” Timothy slapped the boy on the back and went inside to change his clothes.

      Mark laughed and headed for the kitchen.

Chapter Fifty-Four

     
B
irget plunged another chicken into the big pot of boiling water in preparation for plucking. She’d worried too, with the men being away. For nearly fifteen years now she had cooked for Timothy. She’d been there when he had brought Corissa, his first wife, to the estate for the first time. Corissa had been an independent woman with a reserved, dark haired child. Birget had been there when Corissa had tired of the isolation in the wilderness of Minnesota. Through the days and months following the woman’s fatal accident she had put food down in front of Elgerson and his son until he closed down Stavewood and moved them out of the big house, for a while, to a tiny cabin north of the property.

      She had returned to Stavewood on the day he had come back with a woman no bigger than the boy. That tiny girl had taken over the staff and the estate from the moment she walked in the door. She had seen her change the man into the best of men. The portly cook had watched the boy begin to smile and the man begin to find a reason to live. She was there the day they had returned with little Louisa in their arms, the day of the mill accident and the weeks of suffering and healing that had followed.

      Now she watched Roland Vancouver tickling the newest Elgerson and his own son, while still dressed in his business clothing, on the big quilt in the yard. She watched Mark pushing Louisa on the swing until she went high enough to squeal and cause her mother to admonish him. She watched Emma, healthy and beautiful in her summer dress sit beside her husband, looking at him with love and warmth in her eyes. She watched Timothy Elgerson stand in the yard and look up at the house thoughtfully, his hands on his hips.

      Birget thought she’d need another chicken for dinner tonight at Stavewood, and she wiped a happy tear from her cheek as she began her plucking.

       Timothy rolled out the maps on the big table in the formal dining room at Stavewood so everyone could see. “We’ll have to build the station ourselves, but the railroad will put in the switches. The plan is that it will be finished right after Christmas. We can start building the mills immediately. Tomorrow I’ll need you to post the want ads in town, Roland. We will want to begin the hiring and training immediately so we can fully staff both of the new mills as soon as they open.”

      Rebecca had never seen him share very much about his business, watching him struggle alone with legal forms and land deeds. The plans seemed overwhelming, yet Timothy appeared completely confident in his strategy and ability.

       He gathered the family and set the babies into Rebecca’s new pram and all together they walked the back path to the mills and he began to point out the locations and describe his vision.

      “There will be a bridge across here, where the river narrows. The station will be on the other side near that clearing, there. Beyond that will be the mills. This mill will feed the river with logs. The ones on the other side will supply lumber and logs onto the train. There will be a train yard over there,” he indicated. “That way they’ll be off the track while loading. All of that area from this side to beyond the new mills will be cleared.”

     Mark thought about the train yard he had seen in Missouri and struggled to imagine the same ugliness here in the woodland. He could not help feeling a pang knowing how large an area they would have to clear to accommodate such an enormous endeavor. It was a good distance to Stavewood, but in his mind all of the land was his backyard. It would be a change to which he would have to adjust.

      Roland knew the workload would increase immensely, but Timothy had assured him that he would allow him all of the staff he would need to fill all three mills, run at full capacity, and hire the managers to distribute the load. For the next several months they would be very busy, but in the long run they would be building something that would last for generations to come. Timothy’s offer to sell him a good portion of the stock would give him something to pass on to his son, and any other heirs. It was a part of a family business which was something he never would have had otherwise and he was grateful beyond words.

      “This is a future for Ottland,” he explained to Emma as they walked home. Mark will hold one third, Timothy one and me the other third. Our son, and any other children, will have a future here.”

       Emma studied his face seriously. She was grateful for Timothy’s offer, and understood the value and ramifications of it. Roland’s explanation also brought up the subject of more children. She had thought about it many times over the last several days, watching Louisa and the babies playing together. She thought that maybe Ottland needed a sibling in time, and that Roland might enjoy a larger family.

       Emma did not bite her tongue and keep her thoughts to herself. “Then before long,” she ventured, “we should have another child. This will be an awfully big place for Ottland and little Phillip to run alone.”

      Roland examined her closely. “Another?” he questioned. “Can we? After…” He voice trailed off.

       “I think so,” she smiled. “We’ll see. We might want to wait a little bit, but I think we might consider practicing in the meantime.” She smiled at him impishly and he kissed her affectionately on the cheek. He tickled her waist and she giggled happily.

Chapter Fifty-Five

    
 
O
ttland squealed loudly as he toddled across the porch with Phillip close behind. He plunked down onto the wooden boards, now dusted with a thin layer of fresh snow. He grabbed the porch railing awkwardly with his chubby fist and struggled to his feet and resumed his tottering run. Phillip plopped down next, cushioned in his thick cotton diaper, and reverted to crawling on all fours, legs stiff, while he tried to escape their pursuer.

      “I’m going to catch both of you and tickle you all over!” Louisa crouched behind them, threatening, in slow, over-exaggerated moves. The toddlers giggled loudly. Émigré ran along the porch, then on the ground, his tongue lolling and tail wagging. He found that if he ran among the children they fell often and, to avoid being scolded, he left distance between himself and the toddlers during play.

      “What on earth are they doing out there?” Rebecca moved aside the curtains to watch the play from the parlor.

      “Sara is with them. They’re fine,” Timothy assured her, as he looked up from his paperwork.

      With his buildings near completion and the new track laid, he was beginning to focus on starting production. The sheriff had assured him that no one was living at the Wientraub place and he had finally given up the constant worry that another stranger would threaten the families. He could not help thinking, though, that summer might bring more incidents.

      He stood up and crossed the room to stand beside his wife, watching the children roughhouse on the porch. He could feel the vibration of their stomping and stumbling on the heavy floorboards and knew that their rambunctious play was only just starting. In a few years they would be much quicker on their feet and would escape Louisa’s pursuit easily. “This is only the beginning,” he muttered close to Rebecca and put his hand on her shoulder.

      “If they can make this much of a clamor at their size,” Rebecca mused, “I can’t imagine what it will be like living in this house when those boys are both ten.”

      “Consider yourself lucky that Mark is not out there as well,” Timothy chuckled.

      She shook her head slowly and faced her husband, putting her slender hand on his broad chest. “It’s nice having you home today,” she smiled. “You’ve been working so hard. I miss you.”

      “You do?” he smiled warmly.

      “And you’ve been so tired. Perhaps you could do with a nap.” She looked up at her husband provocatively.

      “Oh?” He lifted a brow and studied her beautiful face.

      “Since the children are so busy, and Sara is out in the yard keeping an eye on them I thought perhaps we might retire upstairs briefly.” She teased open a button on his white shirt.

      “Your proposition is intriguing, madam.” His smirk was inviting.

      “Well,” she continued. “It’s so awfully warm in here by the fire and I feel so terribly overdressed. I thought I might go upstairs and maybe unbutton my bodice, just a little bit to cool off. If that didn’t help I might unbutton it just a bit more, to cool off more, of course.”

      “Go on.” He was beginning to feel a bit warm himself.

      “And if I simply cannot cool off enough from that I might have to remove my dress entirely and then I would hope to cool off more in just my camisole. It’s very sheer, you know, so that should work. Don’t you think?” She ran her slender finger inside of his shirt.

      In an instant he swept her up into his arms and the couple disappeared upstairs.

      Rebecca slipped his shirt from his shoulders as he sat on the bed, charmed by her provocative behavior. Timothy loved her comfortable familiarity and was enthralled with her intimate enjoyment of their lovemaking. He felt captivated by her healthy need of him and their private time together.

      She felt his desire for her and knew he wanted only her. She disrobed slowly. Her figure was delicate and her complexion smooth and creamy. When she had unclothed entirely she stood before him, watching him invitingly and he could contain himself no longer. He pulled her to him, her skin soft and supple. He kissed her passionately and rolled her with him onto the bed. She returned his passion, captive in her own desire of him and looked down and stroked his chest boldly.

      Timothy Elgerson was certain he would never want another woman.

      Roland Vancouver watched a single snowflake float to the sill as he stood by the window looking out over the meadow.

      “I can’t decide what season makes it more beautiful,” Emma said, stepping to his side and admiring the view.

      He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.

      “Have I told you today that I love you?” She put her head on his shoulder.

      “I think so,” he said softly. “You might tell me again if you like.”

      “Every minute of every day, I love you.” She inhaled deeply.

      He turned to look at her and studied her face closely. She had changed, he thought, from the drawn, thin woman he had first laid eyes on. Now her face glowed with love and contentment. He would give her anything in the world to see her happy, and now, standing here looking up into his face, he could see that she already was.

      Emma saw a man with a strong, fine face. He had been busy with his work and his hair now reached his shoulders. She smiled at how handsome he looked to her, how wonderful that she now saw warm love in his eyes and not the pain of injury. He filled her heart, her life and she did love him entirely.

      He looked into her eyes and kissed her gently.

      She slipped her hands around his neck and felt the silky smoothness of his hair through her fingers, the soft skin on the back of his neck. She pressed herself closer to him, wanting more of him, wanting his love.

      His kisses were hungry for her and she responded in kind.

      When she began to unfasten her bodice he kissed the rise in her breast and she lay back against his arm and whispered his name softly.

      “Roland.”

      It had never changed, he thought. From the first time she had uttered his name he knew he loved her. He wanted to hear her say it, just this way, for all time.

      He gathered her into his arms, felt her grasp his neck and he carried her up the stairs.

      When they lay together they were as one in their love and desire for each other. He knew her body well and was eager to please her and fulfill her need. When she whispered his name sensually once again she was satisfied.