South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) (34 page)

Chapter Seventy-Five

    
 
R
oland Vancouver dropped the maul into the cherry log and the wood split cleanly. He stood another piece on end and split it as well. The summer was waning now, the days a bit shorter and the nights cooler. He knew that it would not be so long before a chill would be on the air and his stove would need wood.

      In the same way that fishing had eased  Timothy and Mark, Roland found that time spent splitting and stacking wood drove the tension right out of his mind and body.

       He watched his son scampering around the garden, chasing the dog merrily until they both would plop down briefly to catch their breath. Then Ottland would wrap his arms around the dog’s neck, Émigré would slip away and the game would begin again.

      Roland pulled his handkerchief from his back pocket and rubbed it along his face and neck and took in a deep breath. When he heard the wagon pull into the yard, he set aside his blade and waited.

      Emma walked around the side of the house and he held his breath. She looked healthy and pretty in the dappled sunlight of the tall trees, but he could not stop himself from remembering a time when she was pale and near death.

      She walked up to him, kissed him gently and took his hand.

      “Mr. Vancouver,” she said, placing his palm flat against her belly. “You are going to be a father again.”

      His face was calm, and he breathed in slowly.

      “I have been to see both the doctor and Isabel and they both assure me there is nothing to worry about at all. This one is going to be just as easy as can be to bring into the world.”

      He pulled her to him and kissed her in relief.

      “Oh,” she gasped. “I didn’t want you to worry. I’m much healthier this time and everything is normal. I really want another, but I don’t want you to be afraid.”

      She ran her fingertip along his firm jaw and smiled at him lovingly. “I don’t ever want you to suffer the way you did with taking care of me and another baby, like you had to do with Ottland. This one will be different, I just know it. I will feed this one and care for it myself. I just want you to have the enjoyment this time.”

      “As long as you are both with me when it’s all over, I won’t mind a bit,” he sighed.

      They watched the child giggling as the dog ran in circles around him, tongue lolling.

      “Well,” Roland chuckled. “I doubt they would mind another playmate.”

      Emma smiled and kissed his cheek.

            Roland took her hand and called to the child and the dog and they walked along the trail. The day was perfect and birds darted across their path.

      “We can have a nice walk together,” he said, strolling beside his wife, holding her hand and laughing at the antics of his son. “I want to check the Weintraub place anyway.”

      When they emerged from the woodland all of the Weintraub property was visible in the acreage below.

      One could easily make out, even after years of neglect and abandonment, open grassland once enclosed in long expanses of split fencing. There were three barns, huge buildings, now falling into ruin.

      “Once, this ranch was famous for its fine thoroughbreds and racing stock. That track there, ran around the whole property. Owners came from miles around to ride and train their horses. Dianna Weintraub’s brand was only on the finest animals money could buy.” Roland pointed across the landscape.

      “It’s beautiful,” Emma gasped. “It must have been magnificent when the barns were painted fresh and the hillside was dotted with horses.”

      “It was. And those horses and that filly that Mark is working with had to have come from here. Dianna’s animals were all the best. Cannonball came from here. Tim bought him as a colt. He still is a beautiful animal.”

      “What happened?” She looked at him in confusion.

      “I’m not really sure. She stopped breeding and started sending her daughter to fancy schools all over the world and traveling with her to be close to her.” Roland squinted and shaded his eyes and looked towards the house.

      “She just let it all go,” he continued. “All that mattered was her daughter. I guess, now that I have Ottland, I understand it more.”

      “I worry about Mark,” Emma exhaled. “Timothy would do anything to get him out of that situation with that girl. I would hate to imagine Stavewood ever coming to this.”

      “Tim will be fine. Dianna was always unsettled. Tim will find the right way to handle it.”

      “I sure hope so,” she said.

      “I want you and Ottland to stay up here. I’m going to take the dog down and check the house quickly.”

      She nodded. “Be careful.”

      Roland let the dog sniff around the building first, and when he saw no signs of alarm he pushed open the door with his boot. It was immediately obvious that someone had been using the house. A musty mattress had been pulled down from the upstairs and lay against the wall. There were papers and books scattered everywhere and a section of the floor boards had been pried up and left in broken splinters against the fireplace stone.

      Roland peered into the opening and saw a crumpled canvas bag. He reached down into the floor and extracted the sack.

     
Billington Northern Railroad
was stamped onto the side of the bag. Roland remembered that, about the time Rebecca had come to Stavewood, there had been a rash of train robberies. They had never caught the bandits, but there was speculation that Dianna Weintraub was involved. Nils Evens had nearly lost his life from one of the robber’s bullets. It began to fall into place. Carrying the bag, he crossed the property quickly to where Emma was waiting. He scooped up his son, who squealed loudly.

      “We need to get Tim.”

      Emma hurried beside him along the road towards Stavewood. “What is that?” She strained to see the writing on the bag.

      “It’s a bank bag from the train. It was hidden under the floorboards. I think Jude was part of the train hold-ups. Everyone wondered where he got money after he got out of jail. There’s junk all over in there. I want Tim around before I touch anything else.”

      Rebecca and Emma watched the men ride out towards the ranch from the yard at Stavewood. Emma turned to Rebecca to explain what Roland had found.

      “These are receipts, mostly.” Tim shuffled through the papers on the floor. “Some of them are for the dress shop in St. Peter.”

      “Here’s a letter.” Timothy read the simple printing. ”It’s a letter from someone saying they have arrived here and they are watching the women at Stavewood and your place. It says they’re as beautiful as Jude said they were.”

      “That explains where that man that went after Emma came from.” Roland shook his head and lifted a book from the mattress.
Embroidery and Fancywork
was embossed into the cover. “Why would he have a book about sewing here?”

      Tim took the book from his companion and opened the front cover.

       Inside, in carefully inscribed handwriting, read the name,
Bernadette Shofield
. He held the book open and showed it to Roland.

      Roland looked into Timothy’s face and furrowed his brow. “Why would that girl have anything whatsoever to do with Jude Thomas?”

      “Why would any woman?” Timothy growled and kicked a board across the room. “He had to be using her to get to us, to Mark.”

      “Who?” Mark appeared in the doorway, a confused look on his face.

      Timothy handed him the book and Mark read the signature. He looked up at his father and then began to pace slowly, looking at receipts in the littered room.

      “Jude approached her a while back, right after Sam’s birthday party. I talked to her about him. She told me she would never see him again.” Mark took several deep breaths.

       “I bought her that book at the fair, just a couple of weeks ago. For it to be here now means that she’s been seeing him all along.”

      Mark turned to face his father, his face contorted with confusion and hurt. “Jude Thomas is the father of her baby.” He said it flatly and then choked and ran outside.

      Timothy looked at Roland as they heard the horse gallop towards the road.

      Timothy Elgerson put his head in his hand.

      “Should we stop him?” Roland looked towards the open doorway.

      “No,” Timothy put on his hat and walked outside. “Let him work it out with her.”

Chapter Seventy-Six

     
T
he mare sped quickly along the hard packed road, Mark Elgerson on her back kicking her faster. He had ridden her fast many times in the open field in joy. Now, she sensed his urgency and sprinted with every muscle towards town. The ribbon of road fell behind them and the young man rode close to the animal’s back, urging her on. Tears streamed back from his eyes and he fought hard to calm his breathing. When he jumped from the animal in front of the Shofield house his shirt was drenched with perspiration and his hair was windblown and wild.

      He climbed the weathered wooden porch, his leather boots heavy against the wood and he rapped his knuckles on the door loudly.

      Old Man Shofield clambered to his stocking feet and stumbled to the door.

      “Where is she?” Mark demanded as the man pulled open the portal.

      “You bastard!” The old man shook his fist at the boy. “You defiled my daughter and you come here now and have the nerve to speak to me that way?”

      Mark scowled and groaned and walked past the man.

      Bernadette stepped from her room and stopped.

      “Does this look familiar to you?” Mark Elgerson pushed the closed book to her roughly.

      She looked at the book and up to him. She knew he was angry, but could not imagine why he would have her embroidery book.

      “It’s the one you bought for me at the fair,” she replied meekly. “I thought I had lost it. Wherever did you find it?” She looked up at him innocently. She had lost the book purely by accident. He couldn’t be this upset over a mistake.

     “In Jude Thomas’ bed.”

      Bernadette gasped loudly and stepped back from the man.

      “Go ahead, Bernadette. Tell me why a gift I bought for you only recently would be in his bed?”

      Bernadette stammered and tried to hold back her tears.

      “If I am not the father of your child and Sam Evens is not the father, I couldn’t imagine who it could be,” he yelled loudly.

      “Now I know though, don’t I, Bernadette? Jude Thomas is the father of your child.”

      Bernadette began to shake violently, but she did not run away. She looked from Mark to her father, who had walked up behind the younger man and looked at her in confusion.

      “He told me that he loved me and he would always take care of me,” she sobbed. “He said that if I learned how to be with a man I could get any man I wanted, even a rich man, like you…” Her voice trailed off. She took a deep breath and continued.

      “But it didn’t work. You turned me away,” she scowled and curled her lip in anger and frustration. “You acted like I was filth. I wanted you to touch me and you scorned me like trash.”

      “What?” Old Man Shofield yelled out.

      “Of course it’s not yours. How could it be if you wouldn’t even touch me?” she continued. “Is that what you want to hear, Mark Elgerson?”

      Bernadette screamed into the men’s faces.

      “Jude loved me. He made me happy!” She held her head high and scowled. “He made love to me and I liked it. Are you happy now? You’re free Mark Elgerson. You don’t owe me a thing. Now get out. Get out!” she screamed.

      Bernadette Shofield ran to her room and slammed the door closed.

      Mark Elgerson turned and looked at the old man, sighed, and walked away.

Chapter Seventy-Seven

     
M
ark Elgerson stood on the platform at the Elgerson Mill Station on a bright November morning with his bags packed and his family beside him. The train chugged as if in anticipation, waiting to continue its journey, off to another place. A single leaf floated to the platform and landed at Mark’s feet.

      “I don’t want you to go work in Missouri,” Louisa sniffed and clung to her brother’s neck.

      “I need to go see other things, other places in the world. When I have seen enough I’ll be right back, I promise.” Mark was squatted down beside her, dressed in a crisp white shirt and long wool jacket.

      He kissed Rebecca and hugged her warmly. “I promise, a postcard or letter every week.”

      Rebecca fought back her tears.

      “And you too, Cousin Emma. You keep working on that baby. I’ll be back to see you all soon.” He clasped Roland’s hand and then hugged him solidly.

      “Dad,” he fought to maintain his composure.

      Timothy Elgerson pulled his son to him and held him longer than he had in many years. “I know this is what you wanted. You go down there and do a good job for me, for all of us. I know you’ll make me proud.  I love you son,” he whispered in the young man’s ear. He stepped back and turned his back to the family briefly.

      “Samuel,” Timothy called out as he turned back and saw him walk towards them after goodbyes with his own family. “You boys watch out for each other now.”

      “I’ll keep an eye on him, Mr. Elgerson, I can promise you that. Don’t you worry. We’ll be back in the spring,” Sam assured.

      The train pulled slowly out of Elgerson Mills Station taking two of its sons south to become men, Mark and his lifelong friend, Sam at his side.

      The family turned to walk away and Rebecca fell into Timothy’s arms and cried. They stood there together, for a moment, tears streaming down all of their faces, clinging to one another, already wishing the young man was coming home to Stavewood.

The End

Coming Soon!

Home to Stavewood

Mark Elgerson has begun a journey that has taken him far from the beautiful estate of Stavewood and the only home he has ever known. In an unfamiliar world he begins an adventure where he learns the true meaning of love and of bitter rivalry.

In this, book three of the Stavewood saga, be a part of the young man’s journey and of the family that waits for his return.

Coming Soon!