Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) (25 page)

     Rebecca giggled softly and kissed his firm cheek.

Chapter Forty-Three

    
 
E
lgerson
returned to the dining room contemplating that the girl had only a limited and temporary wardrobe, certainly not what she would require for a Minnesota winter. He tried to resolve how he could possibly take Rebecca safely to town, wishing he was instead driving the chill from her, unclothed beside him in a warm bed.

      “Please, forgive me.” Timothy returned to his chair.

      “Understandable.” In the big man’s absence, Ben had been presented with a generous and delectable breakfast and had enjoyed a moment alone with the feast while Timothy spoke to the girl. “I have to say, Tim that this is the finest food I’ve eaten in years, with the exception of course of that wonderful spread you put out at the gathering.”

      “It’s odd that you should say that, Ben.” Timothy plunged his fork into a gravy smothered steak, temptingly tender beside fresh, fried eggs and mounds of perfectly browned potatoes and golden onions. “It seems since that party most of the meals here have been unusually delicious. I suppose Birget must have improved her skills while I was away.” Elgerson looked toward the kitchen thoughtfully.

      Both men enjoyed their meal and sat back satisfied with steaming mugs of richly brewed coffee before commencing with their conversation, deciding not to interrupt their fine meal with the business at hand.

      “I believe we have resolved a large part, if not all of our mystery, Ben,” Timothy began.

      “Any answers would help, Tim.” Carson knew that, based on Tim’s announcement of marriage, there had to be some very interesting information indeed.

      “We were completely mistaken about Rebecca.” Timothy struggled for the right approach. “Rebecca is, in fact, the bride I ordered.”

      The sheriff gasped, choking on his coffee.

      Timothy allowed the man to digest the information and collect himself as he himself had done since the discovery.

      “Are you sure?” Carson shook his head bewildered.

      “I was a fool not to see it myself. R. Fagan is indeed her name. She was on the train headed for St. Paul to meet with the coach to Billington. She got ill on the train, got off at Hawk Bend, and explained to Finn that she was a mail order bride. She was on the exact train she should have been on, with a very British accent as well. Had she remained on the train perhaps Dianna would never have intercepted her, but she left the train. She disembarked right under the noses of Finn and Dianna. When I showed her those tickets last night there was no question in my mind whatsoever that she recognized them. She knew those tickets, Ben. I had trouble believing it all myself.”

      Ben Carson could see that Timothy was making perfect sense.

      “Dianna took her up to that shack because it was the closest place she could hold her near Hawk Bend Station,” Elgerson continued. “I’m still not sure if she intended to return for her, or if she left her there to die.

      “Finn was not terribly bright, Ben, but he was never a violent man as far as I know. He must have found out what Dianna, and possibly Octavia were up to with the girl and at least one of them killed him. Dianna I expect. Rebecca said Finn was kind to her. He may have been a bit taken with her.”

      “Why didn’t she say anything? It’s beyond me why she just didn’t tell anyone who she was from the beginning. I knew all along she was withholding something, but I can’t see why.”

      “Somewhere along the line she got it in her head that answering the ad was something she ought to be ashamed of, maybe somewhere in her travels.” Timothy stopped abruptly.

      “What is it?” Ben saw obvious concern on the man’s face.

      “Damn it, Ben. I hadn’t thought of it before right now. The tickets Rebecca got were the lowest class in almost every instance. How the hell did she ever make the trip? That was months of travel in the worst possible conditions.” Timothy sighed deeply and rubbed his cheek.

      “There must have been something that got her here, Tim.” Carson shook his head slowly.

      Timothy tried to imagine her lengthy and incredibly uncomfortable trip, only to find herself abducted and left for dead by a madwoman and rescued by a child he himself had left to his own devices. She had never said a word about it. By keeping her secret entirely to herself no one could ever know what she had been through or understand her. It had not occurred to anyone, not even him, what she had gone through to be here. He stared at the door to the room and felt his chest tighten, a lump rising in his chest.

      “This brings up my point, Tim. Like I said, everyone who’d laid eyes on the two of you together knew there was something there, long before either of you would admit it to yourselves. From what you’re telling me, that girl had a hell of a trip. But she had an idea in her head she shouldn’t tell anyone? Even after all that happened?”

      “Well, Ben, it was more than one idea. The night of the party, that first night I brought her here, Octavia was carrying on about old Freid and his wife there. That’s what sent Rebecca into a faint. A few days later, while Octavia was here, she told Rebecca about the bet the men put together to get Freid’s wife here. I suspect that she neglected to mention that Freid won that bet. I’m sure Octavia let her believe that everyone felt the woman should be ashamed. Rebecca had no idea I was the one who had ordered her. Somehow she never heard my last name.”

      “Tim, I doubt that Octavia knew who Rebecca was at that point. Just the same, it’s certainly like her to carry on about Freid. Makes sense she’d never notice that she was upsetting the girl. Octavia has a real talent for insensitivity. We all know that.”

      “I believe it will take a lifetime to get this all sorted out, Ben.” Timothy cleared his throat.

      “Things are bad with Dianna and Octavia now, Tim. What do you expect could happen to Rebecca when they find out that, even after abducting her and killing poor Finn, you plan to marry her? Announcing it to your staff here and all, I’m sure it’ll be known throughout the territory by nightfall. I’m not sure it was a good plan.

      “Don’t get me wrong in saying this, Tim. Obviously that girl’s been through hell and back. My wife would say that the two of you are ‘meant to be’. I’ve known you a long time, what with all the women in half the county tripping over themselves ever since you were a kid. I know you are not a man to take marriage lightly. But I know what you went through after Corissa, and, if my suspicions are right, Rebecca’s probably a lot more right for you. It’s risky is all. I’d hate to see anything happen to her. Or to you either.”

      “Then maybe it’s time everyone stops tripping over themselves, Ben. I have found Rebecca, and I will marry her. I want the world to know it. Maybe Dianna and Octavia need to move on.” Timothy Elgerson set down his coffee cup with determination.

      Rebecca found her room warmer and draped the cape across a chair before settling down to her knitting while she waited for Timothy. She thought that his room was most likely warmer, but knew that until their marriage she would have to keep to her own room.

      Her mind was still overcome with the direction her life had taken. She sat quietly, rhythmically counting off her stitches. Warm tears ran unnoticed down her fair cheeks, wetting her dark lashes. All of her dreams of building a new life had been more difficult than she had ever imagined, yet, as unrealistic as they all had been, she had found so much more.

      Had she known that, through the wretched sickness on the ship, the tortured miles on the stifling train, even lying in the dirt of the shack, she’d find herself here at Stavewood loved by such an amazing man she would have still set her slender foot on that first step.

      Rebecca sat peacefully alone in her room, as she carefully turned her needles to shape the heel on her first gift to her soon-to-be husband.

Chapter Forty-Four

    
 
R
ebecca’s
handiwork flew from her hands and dropped to the thick oriental carpet beside her and she leapt to her feet as the sounds of horrified cries filled the yard.  She took to the stairs, her chest pounding, reaching the door of the dining room as Timothy and Ben Carson burst from the room ahead of her. Timothy turned to her suddenly and instructed her to stay inside and Rebecca followed them to the kitchen, and then stood terrified with the women at the window.

      Several of the men Timothy employed were gathered around the frantic Arabian, as the huge, panic stricken beast tore at the reins. While four of the men struggled to keep the animal under control, several other men, upon much smaller horses, pulled at ropes tied to the big black beast.

      A panicked rider clung to the animal’s immense back as the horse kicked and reared violently.

      When Rebecca saw Timothy rushing suddenly into the path of the maddened stallion she could not contain herself and ran out into the yard.

      “We caught him riding up the east path, Tim,” one of the men yelled over the screams of the steed.

      Elgerson ran toward the horse and shouted in a loud, commanding voice that made Rebecca stop dead in her tracks. The animal ceased his fighting and circled, agitated and enraged, stomping loudly in the dust. Rebecca felt the vibration of every hoof from several feet away.

      Timothy pulled the rider from the massive horse’s back and pushed him upright against the boards of the stable as the other men stepped away. The huge Arabian snorted loudly and paced the yard, free of the rider and the imprisonment of the men.

      Rebecca ventured slightly closer and recognized that the man Timothy held against the rough boards was Jude Thomas, the man who had been so forward with her the night of the party.

      “You better have a damn good reason to have been riding that animal, Thomas, and you’d better have it fast, because it will be the last thing you’ll ever say.”

      Elgerson held the smaller man fast against the wall, Jude’s feet barely touching the ground. Rebecca could see the large veins pulsing on Timothy’s neck, his face red with anger.

      “Go to hell, Elgerson!” Jude hissed. “You can go to hell and take that whore with you!”

      Elgerson lifted his massive fist and struck the man violently, the long fingers of his left hand curling around Jude’s throat as the man continued to infuriate him.

      “You think you can keep me away from her like you tried with Corissa? This one will come to my bed just as quickly as the last. Now, get your hands off me!”

    The men in the open yard stepped back, as if they all silently agreed that what they were witnessing was justified. Ben Carson stood without a word beside the house, watching an event long in coming that no man would be able to stop.

      Elgerson struck him again even more violently, and raised his fist for another blow when Rebecca could stand it no more. She ran to his side and grabbed his arm with all of her strength and began shouting.

      “Timothy, stop! You’ll kill him!”

      “That’s exactly what I have in mind,” he growled, breathing hard.

      “No!” Rebecca screamed. “He’s not worth it! He’s just a drunken fool. He’s wrong, Tim. Let him go!”

       Elgerson spat against the wall, inches from the man’s face and flung him violently onto the hard packed dirt.

      “Ben, get him the hell out of here. He’s nothing but a horse thief! Get him off my property before I give him what he deserves!”

      The men gathered the broken man, pulling him roughly up from the ground and carrying him around the house to the sheriff’s buggy.

      Elgerson leaned, his arms out straight in front of him, stretched and taut against the stable wall, cursing under his breath.

      “It’s true, Rebecca,” his voice graveled and strained.

      “Timothy,” she whispered quietly. “It doesn’t matter. Remember? None of anything that happened before matters now. I love you and it’s the only thing that matters to me. I don’t care about him, I love you.”

      He turned to her and searched her delicate features, his face twisted in pain.

      Rebecca threw her arms around his sturdy chest, burying her face against his shoulder and he gathered her into his arms. They stood together silently beside the rough building. Ben Carson pulled his buggy around with Jude Thomas unconscious inside, and disappeared into the trees along the lane.

      A snowflake swayed gently on the wind and settled at their feet, melting into the firm ground.

Chapter Forty-Five

    
 
T
imothy
whispered to her as the massive black horse snorted loudly and walked hurriedly towards his stall in the open stable. “Rebecca, you are going to freeze out here.”

      “Is he alright?” She cautiously followed the huge stallion, trying to inspect him, but afraid to get too close.

      “You’re afraid of that horse? Funny you weren’t afraid of me a little while ago.” Timothy shook his head and followed her into the stable.

      “I never slept with the horse.” She peered around the stall at the huge dark animal.

      “I don’t believe I want to imagine what you mean by that, Rebecca.”

      “The horse is just an animal, you have different feelings.”

      “You think his feelings are different?” Elgerson passed his hands over the horse’s flanks and along his towering neck.

      “The only horses I’ve ever seen were carriage horses in the park, and Mark’s, of course, but she was quiet, not like this one. I’ve never seen one like him, with a temper and such, I mean.” Rebecca stood in the stall adjoining the huge beast and peered at him curiously.

      The monstrous Arabian nodded his head and snorted loudly. Rebecca stepped back.

      “He feels a lot of the same things you do, Rebecca.” Elgerson gently examined the horse and spoke to him softly. “Haven’t you ever had a pet?”

      “No,” she whispered. “My family said they were too dirty. I never thought about it much I guess.”

      “Come around here.”

      “Oh Timothy, I couldn’t. He’s so huge. I’m really afraid.”

      “I’m huge. You’re not in the least afraid of me.”

      “Not as huge as he is!” Rebecca blushed, realizing her remark about not having slept with the horse could mean something she never intended.

      Timothy noticed her expression and chuckled softly.

      “Never mind,” she scowled.

      “Come around. He won’t hurt you and I think he should get to know you.”

      “You’re going to introduce me to your horse? You really do want everyone to know,” she giggled.

      Rebecca ventured into the stall and stepped up beside Timothy, terrified of the animal. Elgerson took her by the shoulders, led her beside the horse, and, standing close behind her, lifted her hand slowly and spread open her palm.

      The big Arabian rubbed his wide muzzle into Rebecca’s hand, lifting its broad head, flattening its ears and nickering softly.

      Rebecca gasped and held perfectly still, Timothy’s safe, solid body pressed firmly against her back.

      “He can tell you’re afraid. That’s liable to make him nervous. You have to let him know you’re not going to hurt him,” Timothy bent and spoke close to her ear.

      “Hurt him?” Rebecca spoke barely above a whisper. “How on earth could such a huge beast ever think I could hurt him?” She looked up at the man, her eyes wide.

      “You’d be surprised at how many thoughts he has. Try petting him, like this.” He took her delicate hand in his own and ran it along the horse’s back and neck.

      Rebecca could feel the powerful shoulders moving, strong and alive as Timothy pressed her open hand slowly along the stallion’s powerful body. The man pulled his own hand away gently assuring her that she needed to pet the animal so he could learn her touch.

      “Horses communicate very strongly through touch. He can feel if your hand is steady, or if you fear him. He’ll learn to trust you by the way you speak to him and the way you touch him. He’ll learn to recognize and respect you and he’ll learn what you expect from him and he’ll let you know how he feels.”

      “I expect he might eat me,” Rebecca laughed. The warm strength of the animal was exhilarating beneath her hand. “Respect me?” She ran her hand up to the horse’s ear and along his nose. “Is that why you could yell like you did when those men were fighting him and he stopped jumping in the air?”

      “He was afraid and confused. When he recognized my voice he felt safe. That’s what calmed him down.”

      “I still don’t understand how anything so big could be afraid of anything.”

      “I do,” the big man remarked distractedly. “Rebecca, tell me about the giant rat.”

      “In the shack?”

      “Yes.” His deep timbre was soothing and affectionate in her ear.

      “It was huge!” She shuddered slightly and Timothy placed his hands protectively on her slender shoulders as she continued stroking and exploring the horse. “In England there is a rat. Sometimes you see it late at night beside the sewers, but it’s not as big, perhaps the size of my foot.

      “The rat in the shack was quite different. It had red eyes and sharp teeth like needles, and it was the biggest rat ever!”

      “That’s because it wasn’t a rat.” Timothy chuckled slightly to himself and she felt his amusement against her back.

      “It certainly
looked
like a rat.” She looked around and met his smiling eyes.

      “It was a possum.”

      “What’s that?” She watched his face curiously.

      “It’s an animal that mostly comes out at night. They eat bugs. They might even eat a small rat. Have you ever heard of someone ‘playing possum’?”

      “Yes, I believe so.” Rebecca listened to Timothy’s firm voice and found herself scratching the Arabian without realizing it.

      “That’s because when you scare one badly enough he’ll lie right down and pretend he’s dead. Doesn’t sound like a very threatening animal, though they can certainly give you a nasty bite.”

      “Play dead? This one most definitely did not play dead. I screamed quite loudly, and it simply stole away down the hole.”

      Timothy laughed at her delightful way of describing things and pressed up closer to her.

      “Timothy?”

      “Yes?” he sighed, feeling her safe within his grasp.

      “Does he have a name?”

      “The possum?” Timothy watched Rebecca finding the horse’s favorite places to be scratched as she gently dug her nails into his tough hide.

      “No, the horse. Does he have a name?”

      “Cannonball. He’s enjoying that, Rebecca. It appears you’ve made a friend.”

      The Arabian neighed loudly and Rebecca’s eyes flew open in surprise as she pulled her hand away. The big animal butted her with his muzzle, apparently wanting her to continue.

      “Of course, you will have to keep scratching him until he’s had enough now. You could be out here all day.” Timothy laughed heartily.

      Rebecca looked at him concerned and scratched Cannonball vigorously.

      Mark ventured around the open door of the stable and watched Rebecca scratching the horse and smiled. He knew she had been terrified of the good natured chestnut. He watched Timothy looking down at her affectionately and giggled aloud, both adults turning suddenly to catch him spying.

      “What are you doing there, boy?” Timothy called out.

      “Watching two chickens fall in love.”

      “Chickens?” Timothy led Rebecca from the Arabian’s stall, pulling the gate closed behind them.

      “He says we are chickens, Tim. He called me that this morning as well.”  Rebecca crossed her arms and scowled at the boy.

      “Why on earth would you call us chickens?” Timothy looked at the boy disgustedly.

      “Because it took you so long to hug and stuff.” Mark kicked at the stall and smiled impishly.

      “Off with you!” Timothy made a sudden move towards the boy and he scampered across the yard and back into the house.

      “Rebecca, you must be frozen clear through. Let’s get inside.”

      “Tim, look!” A soft flurry of flakes drifted across a graying sky.

      “I was afraid of that,” Timothy frowned.

      “Afraid? Look how beautiful and delicate they are!” Rebecca tried to capture a flake on her hand.

      “Until they begin to pile up around the door and you can’t leave the house.”

      “Oh, my!” Rebecca gasped as Timothy hurried her into the house.

      Rebecca shuddered, suddenly feeling the cold and stepped into the warm kitchen.

      “I can see I will need to dress you properly, and quickly. I don’t expect this snow will amount to much, by the look of the sky. If it’s not too cold tomorrow we’ll see about taking care of that.” Timothy rubbed her arms and led her to the study and the crackling fireplace. Running up to her room he returned with the heavy cape and her knitting balanced in his open hand like a tiny bird.

      “What are you making here?” He peered at the needles poking out of a large ball of yarn, the unfinished ribbing sitting up slightly.

      “It’s a sock.” Rebecca took the items from his hand and shook her head at his odd expression.

      “It looks nothing like a sock, you know.”

      “It will by the time it’s finished,” she huffed. “I thought if it gets cold enough, like now, you and Mark might enjoy warm wool socks.”

      “Like now?” Timothy laughed loudly. “Woman, trust me, this is not cold!” He continued to laugh as he stirred the fire.

     Rebecca was concerned. She didn’t think it could get too much colder. She wrapped the cape around her lap.

      Birget toddled into the room, announcing lunch.

      “Birget, wait.” The cook turned to face her handsome employer. “What’s going on in that kitchen of yours?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face.

      “Nothing, sir. Why do you ask?” Birget took an offended stance.

      “It seems that, since you filled Octavia’s menu for the party, the food emerging from that room has been unusually delicious.”

      Birget stomped her foot and scowled at Rebecca, pursing her lips tightly.

      Rebecca shook her head almost imperceptibly and fussed with her knitting.

      “I’ll not hold my tongue long, Miss,” Birget huffed loudly and stomped out of the room.

      “Rebecca?” Timothy faced her, his voice demanding.

      “Yes?” she gazed up at him innocently.

      “What’s going on?”

     “With what, dear?” she asked sweetly.

      “Octavia had nothing to do with the food at the party, did she?  That’s what all the fuss was about when we first arrived! That kitchen was in chaos. You took over that day in the kitchen, didn’t you?”

      “It’s not important really, Tim. She simply had not given them a menu and Birget and I planned it ourselves,” she replied softly, a bit uncomfortable with his demanding tone.

      “You had to have heard everyone complementing the food profusely, and you certainly cannot have missed my recent comments at meals. But you never said anything. Why?”

      “It really didn’t matter that much, Tim. I thought you and Octavia were close and you had a houseful of very upset servants and a large gathering planned.”

      “You walked into Stavewood, took over the staff, the menu and the food and pulled off that huge party in one afternoon?”

      “Certainly not alone.” Rebecca was very irritated at his attitude. “The staff worked feverishly. Even Mark rearranged the tables per my instruction and your party went well enough I thought. I’m fully aware that this is your home. I only did what had to be done.” She peered at him indignantly.

      Timothy laughed loudly, his resounding voice filling the room.

      “Why on earth are you laughing?” Rebecca set her knitting aside and faced him.

      “You are something else, you know that, Rebecca?” He could barely contain himself.

      ‘Well, I’m sorry,” she huffed.

     “Sorry?” He turned to her and her face was flushed.

      “Rebecca, do not be sorry! Don’t you know how amazing you are?”

      Rebecca was entirely confused.

      “You came into this massive house, in that outlandish outfit I might add, and managed to get my entirely stubborn staff to prepare that feast yourself in one afternoon. Rebecca, my dear, I cannot wait until our wedding day!”

      Rebecca’s tightening shoulders dropped and she laughed with relief.

      “For heaven’s sake, Timothy, why must you terrify me like that? I thought you were angry with me!”

      “For filling me with that incredible food and throwing that magnificent party? How could you imagine I would be anything less than completely beguiled by you?” He shook his head at her, studying her fragile face and concluding that the delicate woman sitting in confusion before him most definitely deserved better than she most likely had ever had.

      “Rebecca, I have to ask you something. Believe me, I am not in any way angry with you.”

      “I understand now, Timothy, I just thought…”