Book Read Free

Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02]

Page 18

by The Quarryman's Bride


  Gunnar looked back at Emmalyne’s mother. “Is she your mama?”

  “Yes. You may call her Mrs. Knox.”

  He nodded. “That’s what she said.” He frowned and looked past Emmalyne to the foyer. “My mama is hurt. Grandma says she got sick in her head.”

  “Your mother used to be my very best friend, did I tell you that?” She didn’t wait for his answer, but continued, “We went to school together, and we loved to play together.”

  “Did you have a dog?” Gunnar asked.

  “We did. There were several dogs, as I recall.” She looked to her mother. “Weren’t there?”

  “Oh goodness, yes. It seemed there was a dog for each child,” her mother said with a laugh.

  “I wanna dog, and Grandma says we can get one soon. They used to have a dog, but my Uncle Gillam took him.”

  “I think getting a pet would be great fun.”

  Gunnar seemed to have recovered from his earlier trauma. He jumped to his feet and reached for Emmalyne’s arm. “You wanna see where we’re gonna put him?”

  She smiled and looked to her mother. “Yes, I’d like to see that. Mother, would you excuse us for a moment?”

  Emmalyne felt Fenella’s younger boy take hold of her skirt. “Why don’t we take Lethan with us, and you can show us both.” She lifted the younger boy in her arms, hopeful that he wouldn’t protest. He didn’t, but instead reached for her nose. Emmalyne laughed and pretended to nibble his hand. Oh, how she wished she might have had children to love.

  Chapter 20

  Emmalyne and the boys returned to the house just as Jason and Morna descended the stairs from Fenella’s room. She wondered if the doctor had been able to tell Mrs. MacLachlan about the place he’d found for Fenella, possibly even convince her of its potential. Lethan yawned and laid his head on Emmalyne’s shoulder. She loved the way his head felt against her neck. She nuzzled him with her chin and gave a sigh.

  “I thank you for everything,” Morna said, looking first to Emmalyne and then to the doctor. “Both of you.”

  “Why don’t we continue our discussion while you sit down for a rest,” Dr. Williams suggested. “You must be quite exhausted, Mrs. MacLachlan.”

  Morna nodded and led the way into the front room. “Aye, that I am.” She went to sit beside Emmalyne’s mother and patted her on the arm. “It’s such a treat to see you again. I’m sorry the situation couldn’t be more inviting for a visit.”

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Morna. ’Tis I who owe you an apology. I should have come by sooner.”

  Morna clung to Mother’s hand. “I cannae tell you how it comforts my heart to have you here.”

  Emmalyne took a seat, still cradling Lethan. Gunnar lost interest in the adults and went back to his toys. “Mrs. MacLachlan, Dr. Williams told me about the home he found. Didn’t it sound lovely?”

  “Aye, it did, Emmalyne. I cannae imagine sending her away, though. It seems cruel—like I’m abandoning her.”

  “I fear that with the threat her behavior is to the boys and to you,” Dr. Williams began, “it would be even more cruel to keep her here. Besides, you have no one to help you. With two small children to look after as well as a sick woman—a most unpredictable sick woman—you really have no choice.”

  “How long would it take for arrangements to be made for Fenella to move there?” Emmalyne asked.

  Dr. Williams shrugged. “Probably take a week or more to get everything in order.”

  Emmalyne was surprised when her mother spoke up. “I could lend you my Emmy in the meantime. I’m feeling much better these days, and she could come over here and help you with the chores and anything else that needs doing.”

  She had never expected her mother to suggest such a thing. Unable to fully hide her reaction, Emmalyne sputtered, “I . . . well . . . do you think that would . . . well . . .” She looked from Morna to her mother. Then, “What would Father say?”

  “Bah! I care not.” Her mother’s candor was even more startling. “He’ll be working and won’t know the difference. You could come over here two or three times a week after he goes to work and be home before he returns. He needn’t even know.”

  “I think this would be a good solution while I make arrangements for Fenella,” Dr. Williams put in. “Emmalyne obviously has a way with children.” He threw her a smile.

  “I donnae ken,” Mrs. MacLachlan said. “About Fenella. I mean, I have approached the idea with Rabbie, but we made no decision.”

  “I think today made the decision for you,” the doctor said, eyebrows raised meaningfully. “You can’t endure another event like that, Mrs. MacLachlan. You both could have been seriously injured, and then where would the boys be?”

  Morna looked to where Gunnar was playing. “I suppose ’tis the right thing to do. The wee ones cannae defend themselves.”

  “Goodness, Morna, you can scarcely defend yourself,” Emmalyne’s mother said, giving the woman’s hand a squeeze. “You’ve done all that a mother could. I think Dr. Williams is right. Now it’s time to let someone else help.”

  “And, as I said,” Dr. Williams interjected, “There is a chance that Fenella could recover with the proper help. Doctors are learning more and more about the mind every day. It’s possible that your daughter would be one of those patients who benefits from new treatments.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Emmalyne said, shifting the now-sleeping boy in her arms. “Imagine if you could have Fenella returned to you in her right mind. Think of what that would mean to the boys.”

  “’Twould be a miracle,” the woman replied. She fell silent for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, go ahead and make the arrangements. I’ll speak to her faither and brothers.”

  Dr. Williams gave Emmalyne a rather rueful smile. “And Miss Knox will come and help you as time permits.”

  “Oh, that isn’t necessary,” Mrs. MacLachlan replied. “Although ’twould be wonderful to have her company.”

  The doctor leaned forward. “Mrs. MacLachlan, I insist you allow for this help. I am prescribing you to take an afternoon nap each day. If you do not, I fear you will suffer a collapse. I will speak to your husband and sons if need be.”

  Emmalyne could see the surprise on the older women’s faces. It was clear neither woman took seriously the threat to Morna’s own well-being. Despite her concerns about assisting the MacLachlans, Emmalyne quickly interjected, “I’d be happy to come and help you with whatever you need.” Even so, the idea terrified her. After all, what if she had to deal with Tavin? Or Father?

  Tavin had spent days wrestling with his heart since he’d walked out on Luthias Knox. He knew he’d erred in how he’d handled the situation, but the old man had gotten the best of him. Not only that, but the entire matter served to prove how ridiculous it was to expect that things could change.

  He walked the path between the quarry and the house as he did every day, but this time it was in hopes of clearing his mind and figuring out if he should talk to his father and mother, tell them he had to leave.

  His parents would be hurt. Worse, his father would believe he’d gone back on his word and point to the promise he’d given. Tavin regretted that promise now, but the idea of having his own shop to work in had been so enticing. He’d turned his hand to dozens of jobs over the years, but carving stone was the one that gave him the most satisfaction. There was something about handling the hard stone that exhilarated him. It was as if with each careful stroke he was able to reveal the story that the rock had to tell. With all the betrayal he’d endured, how could he not do everything in his power to bring about this one dream?

  “But how can I remain here with Emmalyne just down the road?” he wondered aloud. “How can I stay, knowing she’s so near . . . and yet we can never be husband and wife?” How was he to endure such a thing?

  Straying from the path, Tavin climbed up to an outcropping of rock. He sat for a time, wrestling with what he should do. His mother had urged him to have a talk with God—to
set things right between them. Would it help? Sweat ran rivulets down the side of his face. After several cooler and drier days, the temperature had climbed once again, and the humidity made the air feel thick and heavy. But more than the heat was making him sweat.

  Taking out his handkerchief, Tavin gazed up to the cloudless blue sky. “Is that what it will take?” He wiped his forehead and neck. “Will prayer really help?”

  An aura of silence wrapped around him. The quarry work had stopped for the evening, and the heaviness of the air muffled sounds that might otherwise have filled the day. Even the birds seemed to have turned in for the night. Tavin ran his hand along the granite. This rock had been a part of his life for as long as he had memory.

  There was another Rock that had accompanied him through life, as well. The Rock of Ages—Jesus. Tavin couldn’t remember a time in his life when God hadn’t been a part of conversations and his training. He could recall how his mother would sit him on her knee and tell him Bible stories about men who’d made hard choices to serve God.

  He’d been taught to serve God—to look to God for help. So why should it be so hard now? But Tavin needn’t seek the answer; he already knew fear was why he hesitated. Fear that God wouldn’t listen. Fear that God would abandon him just as Tavin had abandoned God.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he murmured, still running his hand over the rock. “I know I’ve done wrong. I suppose I should start there. But, Lord, I don’t know how to make my way back through the mess of my life. You’ll need to show me.”

  He stood and looked again to the sky. “Forgive me.” The words seemed too few, too simple—yet Tavin knew it was exactly the right place to start. He thought of his promise to his father and wondered if he could ever find the strength to endure. If Luthias Knox cornered him again, Tavin wasn’t sure what he might do.

  “I’m so angry at what he’s done to me . . . to Em and me,” he said aloud, as if God didn’t already know. “I have spent most of the last few years wanting to cause him as much pain as he caused me. And now . . .” And now what? What did he want?

  Tavin pushed his hands deep into his pockets and turned back to the path that would take him home. I want Emmalyne.

  But wanting something—or someone—didn’t mean getting it. Tavin knew that better than most. Now he was facing his future once again, and once again it would continue to be without the woman he loved. Could he do that? Could he see her from time to time and not yearn to find a way to have her for his own?

  Approaching the house, Tavin saw the doctor’s buggy and wondered if something was wrong. His mother had said nothing about the doctor coming today. He picked up his pace and bound into the house without warning. And there she was. The one woman he’d hoped to avoid.

  Emmalyne.

  She was sitting there so sweetly, holding a sleeping Lethan against her breast as she might have done their own children. The boy had entwined his fingers in Emmalyne’s hair, and Tavin could remember the silky touch of that mane. He’d always loved her hair. He wondered if it still smelled of rose water. Was her skin still like satin, smooth and unblemished? Tavin clenched his jaw tight to keep from saying something he’d regret.

  “Tavin, Dr. Williams has come to tell me about a home for Fenella,” his mother said, rising from her chair. “It’s located in St. Paul, and it’s a private facility run by two men of God. They are both doctors, and they are working to find ways for patients to be restored to their right minds.” She sat back down.

  He had a hard time focusing on her words as he tore his gaze from Emmalyne to the doctor and finally to where his mother and Mrs. Knox sat together. “I thought—” he paused and drew a deep breath to steady himself—“you were against such an idea.”

  “I was,” his mother admitted, “but that was with the idea of sending our poor girl to an institution, where they would do all manner of things to her. This, the good doctor assures me, is an entirely different place.”

  “Your mother is pushing herself to exhaustion and risking not only her life, but Mrs. Edlund’s and her children,” Dr. Williams said.

  Gunnar tugged on Tavin’s shirt. “My mama was on the roof,” he said, eyes wide.

  Tavin picked the boy up and could see the fear in his eyes. “The roof?” he asked.

  Gunnar nodded in a most solemn manner. “She climbed out the window. I think she was tryin’ to fly to heaven to be with my papa. Grandma made me stay here with Lethan. I was scared.”

  Tavin felt his heart clench. “I’m sure you were.” He looked to his mother. “Is Fenella all right?”

  “Thanks to the doctor. He was just arriving with Emmalyne and her mother to talk to me about the new home. Fenella had been out on the roof for so long, I was beginning to despair. It was an answer to prayer that they came when they did.”

  Tavin put Gunnar back down and turned to the doctor. “I’m grateful for what you did.” Dr. Williams stood, and Tavin wearily extended his hand in thanks.

  “I’m glad I could be here. However, next time the scenario could unfold in an entirely different manner.”

  Tavin nodded in agreement. “I suppose we’ve run out of possibilities.” Without meaning to, he cast his gaze at Emmalyne.

  “Uncle Tavin, Emmy is gonna come and play with me. Lethan too,” Gunnar announced.

  Hearing her called Emmy very nearly choked off Tavin’s breath. He tried to appear untouched by the boy’s words, but he feared he wasn’t doing a very good job. “I’m sure Miss Knox is much too busy.”

  “No she’s not,” Gunnar insisted. “She’s gonna help Grandma.”

  Tavin looked to his mother, but didn’t bother to voice the question. She nodded. “The doctor said I needed the help. Just for a time.”

  “I did, indeed. Have you noticed your mother’s weight loss and pale complexion? I’ve only been in St. Cloud a short time, and I can see it.”

  Tavin’s mind had been so fixed on himself that he hadn’t noticed much of anything. He looked at his mother now as if seeing her for the first time. She had more gray in her hair, and her eyes betrayed a weariness that he couldn’t deny. She was thinner—much more so than he’d ever known her to be. How could they have all just ignored this?

  “It is essential that your mother rest each and every day.”

  “We could hire someone, Mother,” Tavin said. He squatted down beside her. “Surely there are women in town who could come here to keep house for you.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Mrs. Knox declared. “I have already told your mother that I can spare Emmalyne while Dr. Williams makes arrangements for your sister.”

  Tavin frowned. Before he could speak, however, Gunnar was at his side. The boy put his hand on Tavin’s shoulder. “I like Emmy. She’s real nice, Uncle Tavin. I think you would like her, too.”

  Seeing the innocence in the boy’s expression, Tavin tried to soften his words. “I think it would be better to have someone . . . else. Someone . . . older.”

  Gunnar shook his head. “Emmy’s more fun, and Grandma said she loves Emmy just like she loves Mama.”

  Tavin knew he’d been defeated. He supposed the only thing he could do was to push for the immediate removal of his sister so his mother’s workload would lessen. “Why don’t we take Fenella to this facility tomorrow?” He stood and looked to the doctor. “After all, I could escort her there by train. It wouldn’t take that long. I’m sure Father could spare me, and that way Mother’s workload will be lessened immediately and there would be no need for . . . for Miss Knox to be here.” No need for me to worry about seeing her. No need to risk saying the wrong thing.

  “The fact is,” Dr. Williams replied, “it will take some time to make arrangements for Fenella. At least a week, maybe more. Your mother needs the help now, and Miss Knox is available. I think it’s the best solution, and obviously your nephews are comfortable with her.” He waved his hand toward Emmalyne and the sleeping baby. “Quite comfortable.”

  Tavin felt his hands balling int
o fists, and his anger rose from a deep sense of frustration. He knew he needed to leave or he would say something he’d regret. “Well, since you seem to have this all figured out, I hope you’ll excuse me.”

  He left as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to let loose a guttural cry. He denied the urge, and instead turned to God. “Is this how you answer my prayers, Lord? Is this how you ease my pain?” Now not only did he have to deal with her father and brother, but given this new development, Tavin would have to see Emmalyne herself. Possibly every day.

  “I don’t think Tavin was very happy about my offer to assist his mother,” Emmalyne said as Dr. Williams helped her mother from the buggy. The trio had said little on the way home, but Emmalyne couldn’t help but express her thoughts now. Perhaps it was because she felt safer now that they were back on Knox property. Perhaps it was just that she needed the time and distance from Tavin.

  “He’ll come to see the sense of it,” Mother replied matter-of-factly. “He’s probably pretty worried about his mother’s failing health but doesn’t want to acknowledge how serious it is. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll get supper started.” She strode toward the house, Emmalyne and the doctor staring after her. A small smile graced Emmalyne’s face. It was awfully good to see Mother back among the living, finding purpose in life and doing what came naturally to her.

  I want to focus on the good, Emmalyne thought. I want to keep my eyes on God and all that He has made right, rather than what man has made wrong. She stared at the front door for several moments, struggling to eliminate thoughts of Tavin from her mind. This wasn’t how she had pictured things. She wasn’t against the idea of helping Morna, but being so near Tavin, hearing his mother speak about him . . . well, it made her most anxious.

 

‹ Prev