The Secret of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 4) (12 page)

Twenty-Five

     
T
albot ventured down the massive, curving staircase and looked into the open doorways of the parlor on one side and Timothy’s study on the other.

      “Good morning!” Louisa said brightly, as she emerged from the kitchen and rushed to his side.

      “Ah, good morning,” he said, smiling at her warmly. He was sharply dressed in a pressed, wool suit that Louisa was certain he had not been wearing the night before. “You look quite wholesome,” he said.

      Louisa laughed lightly. “I suppose I look like I’m back in Minnesota. We are just about to have lunch.”

      “Could I just have a cup of coffee? That would be sufficient for now,” he said. Louisa inhaled the strong smell of rich cologne as she kissed his cheek. She hurried to the kitchen, returned with a steaming mug of coffee, took his hand and led him toward the dining room.

      “It’s a wonder you don’t starve to death.” Louisa shook her head. “You can drink your coffee, but at least come join us, my younger brothers are going to be here and I want you to meet everyone.”

      Louisa led him into the dining room, alive with conversation.

      “Loo!” Philip leapt to his feet and pulled his sister to him.

      “Good heavens!” Louisa grunted.

      “Loo, Loo!” Noah and Jake greeted her next, equally enthusiastic.

      “You are all so tall. It’s no wonder Daddy has you all out at the mill. Heavens, boys, you’re all practically men now!” Louisa squealed.

      “I beg your pardon.” Phillip shoved his thumbs into his narrow suspenders. “I turned eighteen while you were out gallivanting around the world. That makes me a man!”

      “Oh, bellow all you want. All three of you are nothing but a bunch of squirts to me!” Louisa pointed to each one in turn.

      Talbot watched the exchange silently, standing a step behind her and Louisa grasped his arm firmly and pulled him next to her. “Everyone, this is Talbot, my friend from New York City. Don’t any of you put a single frog in his shaving bowl. Not one of you, do you understand?”

      Louisa’s mother giggled as she entered the room, with her father close behind.

      “Have they started with the frogs already?” Timothy bellowed.

      The younger brothers all shook Talbot’s hand firmly and Timothy slapped him on the back briskly as he passed by on the way to his seat at the head of the table. “Good morning,” he said.

      Talbot looked down at his crisp white cuff, now splashed with rich, dark coffee.

  
Twenty-Six

     
T
albot sipped his coffee quietly alongside Louisa at the big dining table, listening to the family talk about saw blades and lumber quotas, all while teasing one another playfully. He tried to imagine them all a generation ago living in the massive estate, well-to-do loggers, tall and fearless in the Minnesota wilderness. They would have been much the same, he decided. He had not been prepared for how Louisa’s family lived and had expected a much simpler life. It had always been clear to him that she was well-spoken and highly educated and now that, and many more things about her made sense. Talbot was eager to finish the elaborate midday meal and visit Louisa’s room to see her original notes. He had also seen her out in the garden with the old cook and wondered about their conversation. He was impatient for Louisa to get on with her work and he shifted restlessly in his chair.

      “I’d like to go change my shirt and get on with our research,” he whispered into her ear. “You go ahead and enjoy your visit and I will meet you in the upstairs hall straight away.”

      “Oh, alright.” Louisa looked at him curiously. “I’ll be up shortly.”

      Talbot stood up, excused himself and left the room.

      Louisa concentrated on finishing her lunch while the family chattered on loudly. It was true that she had an agenda and wanted to get on with her book, but she had not seen her brothers in two years and they had all changed drastically. Now, with camps at the mills, they lived and worked with the other employees and they were growing into independent young men. Like her, they could be gone on her next visit. Louisa suddenly lost her appetite and what had been joyful chatter was pushed back in her mind.

      The dining room entry suddenly burst open and the room went instantly silent.

      Mark stood in the doorway, panting hard with his face flushed. “Katie is having her baby!” he announced.

      The Elgerson family cheered loudly and pushed their chairs away from the table.

      “We’ll meet you up at the big house!” Timothy bellowed over the din. “I’ll bring the brandy and cigars. Phillip, you ride over to Vancouver’s. Noah, run up and let them know at the mills. I’m about to become a great grandfather!” His enormous voice echoed through the house. Louisa could not help but smile.

      From the upper floor Talbot heard the commotion and walked back down the wide stairs. When he arrived on the main floor Mark was slamming the front door behind him and young men were running from the dining room. Louisa stepped out and took his hand, her face flushed with excitement. “My niece is having her baby. We’re all riding out to my grandparent’s house to wait there.”

      Talbot looked down at his stained cuff.

      “Sit by me, here.” Louisa had climbed up onto the back of the open wagon with her youngest brother, leaving room for Talbot. He stepped up on the buckboard and turned to sit beside her.

      “Are we ready now?” Timothy called out as he shook out the reins. Talbot sat down on the board with a hard thump and Louisa giggled.

      “Hold on!” she said.

      Timothy pulled the wagon out of the drive with his wife beside him, his three youngest sons, Louisa and Talbot all clinging to the wagon rails in the back. As he turned onto the wide road toward town they were met by Roland and Emma and their eldest son, Ottland, and they fell in behind them.

      Louisa noticed the furrow on Talbot’s forehead. “Babies are a very big deal at Stavewood,” she said loudly, over the whooping and excited laughter.

      As they pulled onto the road leading to her grandparent’s home they rode past the tiny Victorian cottage Louisa’s grandmother had built. James and Katie would have their baby here with Colleen and Mark while the rest of the family waited at the main house. Mark waved and called from the porch.

      “Not yet!” he yelled through cupped hands.

      James stood on the porch as well, his face pale with concern, wringing his hat nervously in his big hands. He looked sweet and kind awaiting the birth of his first-born child in the afternoon sunlight.

      Here Louisa’s grandmother had read her fairytales about knights in shining armor and The Three Billy Goats Gruff. She could still hear her voice mimicking the sound of the goats’ hooves trip-trapping over the bridge and her impression of the crotchety voice of the troll that lived beneath the trestle. But Louisa’s favorite was always the story of her own birth, here in the fairy tale cottage on the edge of her grandparent’s property. She hadn’t been home when her grandmother, Isabel, passed away and Louisa had never had a chance to say goodbye. She had loved her dearly, but now her stories only lived on in Louisa’s memory.

      Louisa had once daydreamed about living here, tending the flowers along the tiny walkway, polishing the panes of the leaded windows and knitting in a rocker on the wooden porch. There was a prince living here with her as well, a faceless fellow with whom she would live happily ever after. She turned to Talbot sitting beside her and inserted him into the role, trying to envision him on the porch of the cottage alongside her.

      The wagon came to a halt outside of the main house and the passengers piled out into the yard.

      Timothy Elgerson instructed the boys to bring in a wooden crate from beneath the driver’s seat on the wagon. He climbed the wide steps two at a time and opened the heavy wooden door.

      The family settled inside to await the announcement of the birth. Ottland hugged Louisa warmly and she looked up into his eyes. He was the image of his father, gleaming dark hair and the fairest of complexions. He had his dad’s shy and serious demeanor and Louisa was immediately reminded of the childhood crush she had once had on his father as a very young girl. She blushed.

      Talbot stood in the yard beside the wagon seriously watching the exchange.

      Louisa took a deep breath and looked over to Talbot. It was clear he was unhappy. “Don’t you want to come inside?” Louisa took his hand.

      “Yes, of course.” He cleared his throat. “It shouldn’t be long, right?”

      Louisa laughed out loud. “Who knows? It could be tomorrow morning!”

      Talbot took a deep breath and climbed the stairs to the house.

      After nearly an hour the youngest Elgerson, Noah, grew tired of waiting. “Pa, do you think I could walk down there and find out if the baby’s come yet?”

      “All babies come in their own time,” his father said, dealing out another hand of cards.

      Rebecca and Emma busied themselves in the kitchen and the men played poker, eventually coaxing Talbot to sit in with them. They bartered with handfuls of coins and spent shell casings, laughing loudly and slapping one another on the back. Louisa imagined that when they went fishing together they likely acted the same way whenever they caught a fish. The easy teasing and competition was all part of it.

      Louisa felt caught between the domestic conversation of the women in the kitchen and the boisterous joking and jostling of the men. Even so, the conflicts of being a tomboy as a child were far easier than the way she felt now, living in a different time and caught between the love of home and the desire to be successful in the city.

      “It’s a girl!” Mark burst into the front door calling out the news at the top of his lungs. The kitchen door swung open and Rebecca and Emma hurried past him, running towards the cottage, their bright skirts a blur along the pathway. James shuffled in nervously, blushing deeply and embarrassed to be the center of attention.

      Timothy hugged him heartily. “Good job!” he said. “Jake, let’s have that brandy!”

      Louisa watched silently from the corner of the room as the snifters were filled and cigars passed around, her father lighting everyone’s in turn and offering robust congratulations.

      She had never seen the men’s ritual when a new life came to Stavewood. There were often new babies, but she had always stayed inside on the skirts of the women. There, mothers cried out with the effort of delivery and squalling newborns were washed and wrapped. The men were very different. They congratulated one another wholeheartedly, proud that their family ranks had grown by one. She smiled to herself.

      The brandy flowed and she saw that Talbot was becoming more and more comfortable with the celebration. Soon, he too was slapping the others on the back and laughing heartily. He filled every snifter a second time and Louisa slipped out the door and hurried down the path to the cottage. He was in his element now, filling glasses and laughing with the men, showing them all a good time. Perhaps in time he would fit in at Stavewood.