Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02]

by The Quarryman's Bride

  The matter-of-fact statement surprised Emmalyne. She didn’t have time to mask her emotions as an image of Tavin filled her mind. “Aye. I do now and then.”

  Her mother nodded. “I sometimes think on him, as well. I wonder what kind of life you might have had with . . . Tavin.” She barely breathed the name.

  They said little else for the remainder of the trip. Emmalyne felt a growing sense of sorrow deep within . . . the loss of her sisters, the loss of her friendship with Fenella, the loss of Tavin. She fought against the feelings, however. They would serve her no good purpose. If she allowed herself to become melancholy like her mother, neither of them would be of any use. It wasn’t easy to hold back her sadness, but Emmalyne had learned over the years that if she forced it down long enough, it would retreat, rather like an admonished pup.

  When they finally arrived at the house, Emmalyne waited for her mother’s reaction. The older woman looked at the house and then at Emmalyne. She seemed to want Emmalyne to confirm—or more likely, deny—that this was indeed to be their home.

  “Father and Angus are going to shore up the porch roof, and then you’ll have a nice place to sit in the evenings,” she offered, scooting from the straw bale and off the wagon. “The kitchen isn’t ready, but I plan to tackle that while you rest. I have the rocking chair set aside for you so you can sit there while Angus and I see to your bed.”

  She continued chattering on, knowing her mother’s fears were great and many. “Of course, now that we have the nice whitewash, we won’t want to place too many things before we have a chance to dress up the walls. Oh, and I think the rugs we brought from Minneapolis will work well in the front room.”

  Angus lifted his mother from the wagon while their father stepped down and considered the house for a moment. “As soon as we unload,” he told Angus, “we’ll be headin’ over to the MacLachlans.”

  Emmalyne frowned. Once again her father intended to leave her to see to all the things that must be done in the house. She decided to risk his ire. “Father, there are a great many repairs to be made. If you want to sit down to a meal this evening, I will have to have Angus’s help.”

  Her father said nothing for a moment, but then nodded. “As ye say.” He went to the back of the wagon. “Where do ye want the straw?”

  Emmalyne was surprised he even bothered to ask. “The porch would be good.” Despite the sagging roof, she felt it was the most convenient place to stuff the mattresses.

  It took little time until the wagon was emptied of its contents. Meanwhile, Emmalyne helped Mother into the house. She could see her mother’s immediate dismay, so decided to direct her attention elsewhere.

  “If you sit here, you can see what’s going on.” Emmalyne helped her mother to the rocker in the front room. “Maybe if you feel up to it, you could peel some potatoes for me.”

  “This place is worse than I imagined,” her mother said in a whisper.

  “Aye, it has many problems, and a great deal of work is yet to be done.” She tried to make the statement sound casual and unimportant, but Emmalyne knew exactly how her mother felt.

  “Oh, this is terrible.” Mother buried her face in her hands.

  “It will be better soon,” Emmalyne assured her, trying to hide her own dismay.

  She left her mother sitting in the rocker and went to search for the mattress ticks. She found them quickly and immediately went to work. Stuffing mattresses was a tedious task; having rolled up her sleeves for the hot work, Emmalyne suffered countless scratches to her skin by the prickly pieces of straw. But there really wasn’t an alternative. If she put her sleeves down, the straw would merely work its way through, and then she would have the added task of later picking it out of her clothing.

  Once she had her parents’ tick stuffed, Emmalyne and Angus carried it to the bed.

  “I have the sheets and quilts ready,” she told him. “I’ll get the bed made, and you can help Mother. She’s taking this rather hard.”

  “I know,” Angus said, nodding. “City living was easier for her.”

  “Aye. More convenient and orderly,” Emmalyne said.

  Their mother hadn’t wanted to make this move, but she had known it would happen with or without her approval. She had instructed Emmalyne in the packing and because of that, items that were necessary to everyday life were arranged at the top of the crate, while others used less often were settled below. The bedding, which had been freshly washed and ironed, had been carefully secured in cloth sacks before being put in the crates. Mother had hoped this would protect them from dirt and soot during the trip

  Emmalyne unfolded her mother’s quilts and sheets and smiled. It looked like the trick had worked. “They seem to have fared quite well.” To her surprise, Angus helped her make the bed, and the process went faster with the two of them working together.

  “As soon as Mother is in bed, I’m going to go upstairs and see about that hole in the roof,” Angus told Emmalyne as they returned to the front room.

  “There’s a hole in the roof?” their mother asked, shaking her head in disbelief. “Is there nothing good in this place?”

  “There will be only good once we set it to rights, Mother,” Emmalyne declared. “As you’ve often said, sometimes the only good to be had is what you bring with you.” She smiled. “Now we have your bed ready, and you can have a little rest.”

  She was glad to get her mother settled in the back bedroom before turning to the massive endeavor of cleaning the kitchen. She’d managed a portion of the work the day before, but the room was nowhere near ready to prepare a meal. No doubt her mother would fret and fuss if she were to see the true state of that most essential room.

  Emmalyne lost track of the time as she prepared hot water for cleaning. From time to time she heard hammering and smiled to herself. Angus would see that she had a solid roof overhead before nightfall.

  For now she tore through the cabinets in the kitchen and scoured them thoroughly. She wasn’t about to unpack her mother’s good dishes until she could be assured that they would be safely stored.

  Goodness, but what was Father thinking? This is no house in which to bring a sick woman.

  The heat of the day was well upon them, and sweat trickled down Emmalyne’s face and neck. She pulled the scarf from her head and wiped at the dampness, then got back to work. She was battling cobwebs near the corner of the room where the cabinets ended when the sound of an approaching wagon filled her with dread. Had Father returned already? She wasn’t nearly finished. . . .

  Climbing down from her perch on an overturned box, Emmalyne went to the door. To her surprise and horror, however, she saw a smartly dressed man climbing down from a small buggy. He was tall and lean, with brown hair that looked kissed by the sun. Emmalyne thought him quite handsome, and when he turned and smiled, she couldn’t help but react the same way.

  “Welcome, sir.”

  “Thank you. Is this the Knox home?”

  Emmalyne couldn’t contain her chuckle. “Such as it is. I’m afraid we’ve a great deal to do in order to make it a home.”

  “I’m Dr. Jason Williams. I saw your mother at the hotel yesterday and promised to check in on her today. When I arrived at the hotel, they told me where you’d gone. Since I had to see a few other patients out this way, I thought I’d stop by.”

  “That was very kind,” Emmalyne said, fervently wishing she weren’t so dirty. “Please come in. I’ve been working, as you can see, but my mother is resting in her room. I’ll show you the way.”

  Dr. Williams entered the house behind her and followed her to the bedroom. Emmalyne opened the door a crack. “Mother? Dr. Williams is here to see you.”

  “Let him in,” her mother replied, her voice sounding frail.

  Emmalyne pushed the door open and stepped back. “I’ll be getting back to work now,” she said, excusing herself. “Let me know if you need me for anything.” Dr. Williams nodded and smiled, and Emmalyne found herself wishing she didn’t have to return
to her task. He was such a nice-looking man. Tall too. She wondered what it might be like to dance with him, then chided herself for being silly. She had no time for dancing! Besides, there would be no man for her. Not with the tradition in place. That wasn’t going to change.

  She climbed back onto the box and busied herself with the cobwebs. Minutes ticked by, and Emmalyne couldn’t help but wonder what the doctor might conclude about her mother’s condition. For the last eleven years her mother had seen a bevy of physicians, druggists, and healers, and they always left her with bottles of medicines that seemed to only make her more disinterested in life and her family.

  Emmalyne moved onto a chair in order to reach the very tops of the cabinets and considered what she would do if Dr. Williams recommended the same treatments as previous doctors. It had been difficult to convince her mother that laudanum and the like were bad for her, but such drugs had Rowena all but incapable of minimal functions. If yet another person of authority suggested this treatment, Emmalyne feared Mother would once again succumb to the addictive grip of such medicines.

  Perhaps if I spoke to the doctor and explained the situation, he wouldn’t be inclined to give her such things, Emmalyne thought. The man seemed quite nice, and perhaps he would agree that such medications did more harm than good.

  “I hoped you would be nearby,” Dr. Williams said, coming up behind her.

  Startled, Emmalyne turned much too quickly and lost her balance. She caught her heel on the edge of the chair and began to fall. She let out a little squeal, trying to maintain her grip on the cabinet door, but the piece broke off in her hand.

  The good doctor stood ready to assist, however. He caught her easily and gave a laugh as the chair fell over.

  “You needn’t throw yourself at me, for I must admit I’ve already found you to be quite fetching.”

  Emmalyne’s face burned with embarrassment. “I . . . I’m so . . . so sorry. You startled me, and I lost my balance.”

  Their faces were barely inches apart. He grinned. “I know. I was here.”

  “Of course,” she said, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

  Emmalyne grew uncomfortable as he continued to support her. “Uh, you can put me down now.”

  “I suppose I should.” He flashed her a smile. “But it seems such a shame.” He chuckled as he let her feet touch the floor, waiting to release her until she appeared stable.

  Emmalyne brushed back her hair that had escaped its protective scarf and tried to regain her dignity. “How is Mother?”

  “I think she’ll be just fine. I recommended she get outdoors more. The fresh air and sunshine will do her more good than anything. You might consider setting up a place for her outside. She could rest there and read, watch the birds.”

  “I think I could arrange that,” Emmalyne said, relieved that he wasn’t offering yet another drug. “Do you have any idea of what’s wrong with her?”

  “Not in full. At this moment I don’t feel I know her well enough to make a complete diagnosis. She seems exhausted. Perhaps the move has been harder on her than anyone realizes.”

  Emmalyne nodded. “Maybe. She has been quite tired for a very long time, however.”

  “Well, I shall return tomorrow to check on her again. Maybe I’ll have a better chance to discuss her condition with her. Or with you.”

  Emmalyne couldn’t think of anything to say. Dr. Williams’s presence made her most . . . uneasy. It wouldn’t be hard at all to lose herself in those blue eyes and deep voice.

  “I suppose until tomorrow . . .” he said, letting the words trail off.

  “Hopefully I’ll have things in better order when you come again,” Emmalyne said, feeling silly about her girlish thoughts. “Perhaps then I can offer you some tea.”

  “Maybe you should stay off the chairs. Unless, of course, someone is around to catch you.” He smiled and walked from the room, leaving Emmalyne fighting the urge to follow him.

  Chapter 5

  Dr. Jason Williams was whistling a tune by the time he returned to St. Cloud. He strolled into Dr. John Schultz’s office with a smile on his face and plans in his heart. Plans to once again see Emmalyne Knox.

  “You seem mighty chipper,” the older doctor said, looking up from his desk.

  “I am. I just might be in love,” Jason said, feeling sheepish but also exhilarated.

  Dr. Schultz shook his head. “I thought you were tending patients. Seemed to me it was mostly older folks. How is it that you found time to fall in love on the way?”

  Jason laughed and sank down into the leather chair opposite Dr. Schultz’s desk. “I went to tend to Mrs. Knox and found she has a beautiful cinnamon-haired, blue-eyed daughter . . . Emmalyne.”

  Schultz chuckled, leaned back, and folded his hands. “And you found her condition to be much more interesting than that of her mother’s, I take it?”

  Shrugging, Jason picked lint from his trouser leg. “I suppose I was taken by surprise. In more ways than one. The young lady fell into my arms, you might say.”

  “And how did that happen, may I ask?”

  Jason related the story and ended with a devilish grin. “I must say, I didn’t mind the imposition at all.”

  The older German man laughed. “Ja, I can see that. So tell me how you found the patient.”

  “Mrs. Knox? I believe her to be suffering nothing more than melancholia. I’ll know more after additional visits, but her vital signs were good and she had no complaint of pain. She spoke of feeling tired, and after listening to her I believe it’s more a weariness of the soul and mind.”

  “That kind of weariness can lead to physical ailments, as you must know,” Dr. Schultz countered.

  “I do. My work in Kansas City included many such cases, especially in older women.”

  “And our other patients?”

  Jason smiled. “They were quite welcoming to me. You’ve done a good job of preparing folks for your retirement. They are sorry to see you go, however. Mrs. Bushburn told me she would never trust another doctor as much as she trusted you.”

  “In time she’ll realize that she can feel the same way about you.” Dr. Schultz pulled glasses from his face and rubbed his eyes. “It will simply take time for folks to get to know you. I knew that when I advertised for someone to take over my practice.”

  Jason had answered that ad some three months earlier and now felt that St. Cloud was as much home to him as Kansas City had ever been. Having been born and raised in Kansas, Jason found Minnesota to be similar in many ways. Vast farmland bore rich crops, and the people were warm and welcoming. Country folk seemed more than willing to lend aid to their neighbor, where city dwellers were more reclusive. Jason found he much preferred the former to the latter.

  “How are you feeling today, John?” Jason asked, seeing the man grimace as he replaced his glasses.

  “The pain is increasing. I would imagine we’re due a storm.”

  Dr. Schultz suffered an increasingly debilitating form of arthritis that left him less and less capable of dealing with even simple daily tasks. Much to his disappointment, it had begun to interfere with his medical work, and so he had decided to resign and move east to live with his daughter and son-in-law.

  “It was clouding up to the south and west,” Jason told him. “No doubt we’ll see rain by nightfall.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Did you manage to make it over to the MacLachlans’?” Dr. Schultz asked, looking relieved to put aside any further talk of his own condition.

  “I did. I met most of the family. Mr. MacLachlan was even present. He’s fully recovered from his back injury and said to give you his appreciation.”

  Dr. Schultz smiled. “I’ve known Robert and his family for a long while. They’re good people. It’s a shame so much sorrow has visited them of late.”

  “Didn’t you also say something about knowing the Knox family?”

  “I didn’t really know them,” the older man replied. “I knew of them. They were in
this area when the tornado of ’86 came through. They left right after that. I don’t know much else. I believe perhaps they lost their home to that storm.” Gazing upward, he rubbed his chin. “Seems maybe there was even a death in the family.” He shook his head. “That was a long while back.”

  “Maybe returning to this area is one of the reasons for Mrs. Knox’s sadness. I shall question her more about it when I see her next. Or maybe it would be better for me to talk with her daughter.” He got to his feet. “After all, she might be able to give me some details that her mother would be unwilling to tell.”

  “Perhaps,” Dr. Schultz replied, shaking his head. “Just try to keep in mind who the patient is and where your attention needs to be.”

  Emmalyne continued to think about Dr. Jason Williams days after his departure. He had not made it back the next day as he’d indicated, and she couldn’t help but wonder if somehow her actions had offended him. He hadn’t seemed offended, truth be told. In fact, he’d seemed more than happy to have assisted her. Emmalyne gave a little shiver of delight at the thought of his arms about her.

  “Dr. Williams said the sunshine and fresh air would do you good, Mother,” she said. “I’m going to make you a nice little arbor retreat where you can relax and read a book.”

  Her mother limply waved a handkerchief. “I’m not up to that today. I’m much too tired. Just bring some tea and toast to my bed.”

  “Dr. Williams seems to really care about your well-being, Mother. I think he’s probably a very wise doctor. He didn’t suggest any of the silly remedies that some of your physicians have given you in the past. I think he may truly be able to help you get your strength back.”

  Her mother sighed and looked toward the single window in the bedroom. “I don’t know that I’ll ever have my strength again. Your father . . . well, he knows how hard it is for me to come back to this place. Even if my health were better, it would be difficult for my heart to bear.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “I know it is hard to be here,” Emmalyne soothed, gently cradling her mother’s hand in her own. “But maybe in a few days you’ll feel better, and we can make a journey to the . . . cemetery. Perhaps it would comfort you to see the nice stones that the MacLachlans arranged for Doreen and Lorna.”