Emmeline, Bride of Arkansas

by Carra Copelin

  “Of course, it is. Is that why you brought the cake, for my approval?”

  “Partly, I wanted to give you, and Owen, something for taking me to the play this evening. But yes, I wanted your honest opinion. Laurel tasted a bite from the bottom and she liked it.”

  “What do you think of your efforts?”

  “Laurel said the third time’s the charm.”

  “Yes, but you, Emmeline, what do you think.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the question for her to evaluate her own baking, aloud. “I’m very pleased.”

  “Good!” Tildie exclaimed. “That’s what I want to hear.”

  Emmeline’s cheeks warmed again at the praise, and she couldn’t help but wonder what her mother would think of her working in the kitchen. She smiled to herself and cut a slice of cake. She also found herself wondering if a certain lumberman liked chocolate cake?

  “Tildie, I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Lincoln Bass to accompany us this evening.” She sipped her tea. “I remembered you saying you had extra tickets.”

  “Oh . . . well I . . . um,” Tildie said, hesitating.

  “I apologize,” she quickly offered. “I’ve over-stepped, and I’ll pay you for the ticket.”

  The woman laughed. “Heavens no, that isn’t the problem, but the extra ticket is. You see, I invited a young man to go with us, who’s new to town and our congregation, and I thought you two should get acquainted.”

  “Goodness, I’ll have to let Linc know that I miss-spoke.”

  “Nonsense.” Tildie waved her hand back and forth. “I have a couple of things to do, and you wanted to post some letters. We’ll just go to the theater and buy another.”

  “Thank you.” The woman, who had stood by Laurel when she’d come to this town as a mail order bride, was proving to be just as nice as her sister had said.

  Tildie stood, stacked her cup, saucer, and cake plate with Emmeline’s, and said, “We’d better get high behind, the afternoon will be gone before we know it.”

  As they made their way to the first stop on their list, the size of the town amazed Emmeline. Flat Rock Point would easily fit into one small corner of Philadelphia. For instance, they’d walked to the middle of town from the parsonage, an action she would never consider back home.

  Though small, there seemed to be most everything one might need. The livery and train depot anchored the town on one end, while the new theater anchored the other. In between, there was a café, hotel, apothecary, a bank, the general store, and a women’s dress shop. She hoped they had time to stop in today, as there were several pieces of jewelry on display in the window, and the most darling hat she’d ever seen.

  The next stop on their trail was the general store. While Tildie did her “once around”, as she called it, for necessities, Emmeline took her letters to the back for posting. No one was there, so she took the opportunity to read over her letter one last time. She wanted to be sure she had remembered to tell her mother and Adeline everything.

  Dearest Mama, Adeline, and Papa,

  I apologize for not writing sooner, but there’s been one thing after the other to keep me busy. First, I want to send a special thank you to Papa for surprising us with the train car for our trip to Flat Rock Point. Coral and Josie are angels but being able to let them be themselves without interrupting the other passengers, is the only way to travel.

  Mama, hold onto your new fall hat, Laurel is teaching me to cook! I have helped with dinner and my third attempt at baking a cake, was well received. Don’t tell Cook, I want to surprise her the next time I’m home.

  I’ve truly surprised myself at how much I like it here. The temperatures during the day are warm to hot, but the air is much cleaner than Philadelphia. Laurel says we’ll be having jacket weather soon and I look forward to that.

  The Sealy Lumbermill is having their annual picnic in a couple of weeks to celebrate fall and to welcome the newest members of the community, of which I’m one. I’m included in the planning and will contribute my chocolate cake. The whole thing is so exciting!

  One last thing, I want you to know I’ve forgiven Malcolm for leaving me at the altar. I know I don’t have to, but it’s time to let it go. I wish him all the best.

  Well, I must go, I’m in town to attend, of all things, a play at the town’s revived theater. In my next letter, I’ll tell you how it went.

  Dear, sweet sister, Adeline, I’m saving you a spot in the kitchen.

  Love to all,

  Emmeline

  There, that should’ve covered all she’d done since her arrival. She really hadn’t wanted to add that note about Malcolm, as she didn’t think she would ever really forgive him. But she knew her mother and father would want her to apologize. Frankly, she no longer cared if the society matrons were appeased.

  She hadn’t been in Flat Rock Point long, but it had been long enough to see that the people here were genuine and meant what they said. It was no wonder Laurel loved it here. She refolded her letter, returned it to the envelope, and looked around for Mr. Babcock. She saw him on the other side of the store, helping Tildie.

  The other two letters she needed to post were from Laurel. One was a reminder to Henry and Gwenda Sealy, her in-laws, about the picnic. She said they knew about the party but would appreciate a note.

  The second was going to Griffin’s brother, Markus Benning, who had run into a bit of hard luck lately. Laurel hadn’t shared too many specifics, except that his lumber mill had burned from an apparent lightning strike, leaving him homeless and without work.

  She didn’t know much about the logging and lumber business, except it was dangerous and dependent on the whims of mother nature. She didn’t know how Laurel managed to cope knowing Griffin was in constant peril.

  “Ah, Miss Weidner, sorry to keep you waiting.” Mr. Babcock lifted the countertop entrance and took his place behind the Post Office window. “How may I help you today?”

  “I have some letters to post.” Excitement tugged at her, as this was the first time she’d ever posted her own letters. She handed them to him and said, “If you’ll tell me what I owe you for postage and these two peppermint sticks?”

  “That’ll be eight cents.”

  She gave him the change, and smiled, pleased with herself. Tildie joined her, and Emmeline asked, “Were you successful?”

  “Oh, yes, very. Mr. Babcock, if you’ll deliver the items we looked at, as well as what’s on this list?” She handed over the list of grocery items she’d written down before they left the house. “Now, Emmeline, we must be on our way, if we’re going to be ready for the performance this evening.”

  “Do we have time for just one more stop?”

  “Now, tell me, what do you have up your sleeve?”

  Emmeline hooked her hand onto Tildie’s elbow. “Something very exciting, that I think you will love!”

  Emmeline exited the theater, just behind Tildie and Owen. She was bookended by Linc on one side and the new man in town, Thatcher Whiteaker, on the other. She had to admit she’d rather enjoyed being the center of attention between two handsome men all evening. Now they were outside, though, Linc had grown quiet, almost sullen.

  “I enjoyed the play, didn’t you?” When neither man answered her, she continued, “But, then I always enjoy Romeo and Juliet .”

  Tildie adjusted her new hat. “I thought the troupe did an excellent job. Even Owen managed to stay awake.”

  As if on cue, the preacher yawned. Emmeline faked a cough in order to smother a giggle.

  “Gentlemen, we have refreshments at the house,” Tildie stated. “I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer.”

  After a moment, Thatcher spoke, “Mrs. Waggoner, I’m going to beg off, if you don’t mind. It’s already late and I have to be back at the mill early in the morning.”

  “Of course, I understand. You have a standing invitation, though. Anytime you’d like to stop by.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. Goodnight, Miss Weidner, and Linc, I�
�ll see you tomorrow at the mill.”

  “Goodnight, Whiteaker.”

  She watched the man head off toward the hotel, and enjoyed a measure of satisfaction as Linc took her elbow. The four of them turned to walk toward the parsonage. She couldn’t help but notice Linc’s mood wasn’t improving that much as they approached the house. She held her tongue, but he was seriously spoiling her good mood.

  When they reached the porch, she said, “Tildie, we’ll be along in a minute.”

  “All right, dear. Owen will help set out the dessert and coffee.”

  As soon as they were alone, she said, “Linc, you’ve been acting like a spoiled child all evening. What is wrong with you?”

  He stared, silently, out into the night. Finally, he led her to the swing and sat beside her. “Emmeline, we decided to become friends earlier today, and—”

  “Yes, I know that,” she interrupted.

  “Shhh. He quickly placed two fingers on her lips. “Please let me finish.”

  She nodded and waited for him to resume.

  “Something’s happening between us, at least it is for me. I never gave a serious thought to getting to know one woman partly because my job isn’t always conducive to a relationship, for sure not a long-term one, and then, I never thought I’d be very good at it.

  “I took our commitment this afternoon to heart, but this evening proved to me I want more. We don’t much follow the society conventions out here, like courting for a year or two before asking your father for your hand, and then marrying a year after that. We simply don’t have the time. If nothing else, my accident showed me how quick life can go. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I think so.” She wanted to say more, but she sensed he wasn’t finished.

  “Tonight . . . well, I didn’t like having to share you with Thatcher. I wanted you all to myself.”

  “I feel the same way, Lincoln. I was only polite because Tildie asked him along.” She rested her hand on his forearm, adding, “I invited the man I wanted to come.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s true. I agree the old conventions don’t always apply, some would even argue they’re outdated.” She grinned. “Certainly, Laurel would, as she married Griffin on the day she arrived in Flat Rock Point.”

  He caressed her cheek and gazed into her eyes. Lifting her chin, he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. Breaking their kiss, he asked softly, “Emmeline, are you willing to go with me down this path to find out what this is?”

  Her heart pounded so forcefully in her chest, she was certain he could hear it, and if not, he most assuredly, could see it beating beneath the bodice of her dress.

  When she was sure she could speak without her voice trembling, she answered, “I most certainly am.”

  8

  L inc hadn’t stayed for coffee and dessert last night. Tildie was a might miffed, but there were more important things on his mind than chocolate cake. Emmeline had said she understood, and she’s the one he cared more about than anyone else.

  The ride back to Griffin and Laurel’s place this morning had been quiet, too, but he hadn’t worried about that either. He assumed she had a lot on her mind, as did he. When they reached the house, he climbed down, and walked around to help her safely onto the ground.

  His hands spanned her waist and he found it difficult to let her go. Holding her close, he looked into those violet eyes, that he was learning deepened in color with her emotions. This morning they reminded him of the purple velvet robes kings wore. Heat smoldered in their depths. He leaned closer to taste her one more time before he headed off to the mill.

  “Aunty Em! Uncle Linc! You’re back!”

  Setting the woman who’d captured his heart on the ground, he smiled, and turned to greet the little girls who were still talking in unison.

  Emmeline peeked around Linc’s shoulder as they started digging in the pocket of her skirt. Reaching for her reticule, she opened it and retrieved the peppermint sticks. “Are these what you’re looking for?”

  “Yes. Thank you!” And they were off.

  He handed her the empty basket she’d brought back from town, grabbed both their cases, and then escorted her into the house.

  “I’m going to put up the wagon and take care of Sable, and then I have to head to the mill.”

  “Yes, of course. I understand.”

  “See you this evening?”

  “Supper’s at seven.”

  He drove the wagon around to the barn and set about his chores. He didn’t know quite what to think, except Emmeline Weidner had gotten under his skin. She had him thinking about his long-term future like marriage and even children. And he had no idea what he was going to do about that.

  He found Griffin alone, when he entered the office. Pouring a cup of coffee from the pot sitting on the pot-bellied stove, he joined his friend at the desk.

  “Where’s Tolbert?”

  “And good morning to you, too.”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. Morning, where’s Tolbert?”

  “He’s gone into town for some supplies. I think he said something about opening up an account at the bank, while he’s there.” Griffin put some papers in a drawer and asked, “What’s got you acting so strange this morning? Didn’t your trip go well?”

  “Much better than I expected. Have you seen Thatcher?” He wanted to wait until the three of them were together before he said anything.

  “He beat me here this morning, and is getting the lay of the land from Otto before he heads off to school. Why?”

  “I want him here when I fill you in on what I found out.”

  Griffin got up from his chair, walked to the door and opened it. He called out, “Clem? Go tell Thatcher I need him here, would you?”

  “That was easy,” Linc said. He drained the coffee from his cup and set it on the desk.

  “He shouldn’t be too long.” Griffin returned to his chair, leaning his elbow on the arm. “Is there anything you can tell me while we wait?”

  The office door opened and Thatcher walked inside.

  “Yeah. For starters, your worries are real, but not for the reasons you thought. I received answers to my letters, and Whiteaker can confirm what I found out.”

  Griffin looked from one man to the other and said, “Well, let’s get to it and figure this thing out before it’s too late and something serious happens.”

  Linc couldn’t have agreed more, for they had no way of knowing just what would trip Jimmerson Tolbert’s trigger.

  An hour later, Linc and Thatcher had given Griffin all the information they had. Hopefully, he now had the tools to make the proper decision for saving lives and the mill.

  “I know I have no proof he’s done anything here, or is even planning anything, but my gut tells me to contact the sheriff and throw his ass in jail.”

  “I like where your gut’s coming from,” Thatcher agreed. “But, the sheriff won’t have any reason to hold him.”

  “Agreed,” Linc said. “All you’ll end up doing is piss him off. Plus, if he’s not here, you won’t be able to keep an eye on him. It’s always best to keep your enemies where you can see them.”

  “You’re right. So, what’s the plan?”

  “For now?” Linc said. “I think we watch him, stay friendly, keep including him in all the daily operations . . . Main thing is don’t give him any reason to think he isn’t trusted.

  “I also think,” Thatcher added, “We should take our concerns to the sheriff, so he’s aware of the potential problem.”

  “Good point, and you should be the one to take the information to him. You are already living at the hotel, so you won’t set off any alarm bells by going back and forth.” Griffin rested his hands flat on the desk top. “Gentlemen, I believe we have a plan in place. Let’s do our best and stay aware.”

  Tolbert hadn’t returned from town by the time Linc and Griffin started for the house. Linc couldn’t help but notice his friend’s nervousness.

  “Him not being h
ere, kind of makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “It sure does,” Griffin agreed. “Makes me itchy.”

  As they neared the house, Linc saw a horse tied to the rail at the front porch. “I wonder who’s here?”

  “Let’s go find out.”

  Linc followed Griffin into the house, where laughter and giggles, once again, came from the kitchen.

  Griffin stopped in the doorway. “Markus? Mark? You son of a gun, what are you doing here?”

  Markus Benning stood and grabbed his brother in a hug, and then shook his hand, saying, “Spur-of-the-moment decision, like every part of my life, since the fire.”

  “We’ve been wanting you to come up here, just the other day, Laurel wrote you a letter.”

  “I told him we mailed the letter yesterday,” Laurel chimed in. “Too late, though.”

  “Probably wouldn’t have received it anyway,” he said. “With the mill gone and no way to make a living, other than odd jobs, I tend to move around a lot.”

  “There should be work at one of the other mills in East Texas.”

  “I’m sure there is, but the bad memories are too fresh.”

  Linc unconsciously ran his hand down his thigh, over the ache where the break had been. He understood that feeling better than anyone in this room, but he kept that to himself.

  Laurel interrupted the conversation between the brothers. “Boys? Why don’t we sit down to supper? You can continue getting reacquainted later.”

  With the table cleared and the dinner dishes done, Griffin and Mark adjourned to the porch. Linc stayed in the living room, so the brothers could catch up with each other.

  Griffin stepped just inside the door and said, “Come on out and join us, Linc.”

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Nonsense, we’re not talking about anything you can’t hear and, besides, we’re going to end up talking about the possible trouble with the mill.”

  Linc went out and rested his hips against the porch rail.

  Mark Benning was speaking, “Thanks for taking me in, Griff.”