Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02]

by The Quarryman's Bride

  He threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing that Emmalyne was just a few steps behind him. The expression on her face revealed that she was just as perplexed about the kiss they’d shared as he was. She hadn’t said a word since . . . but he figured she’d said more in her actions.

  “You boys are going to fish in that pond someday soon,” he said, trying to steer his mind away from what he would say to Emmalyne.

  “Are you gonna fish with us, Uncle Tavin?” Gunnar asked.

  “You bet I will, but it will have to wait for another day. You two need to get into some dry clothes. I won’t have your grandma telling me that I caused you to catch your death of cold.”

  “But it’s not cold,” Gunnar argued.

  “Good thing, too,” Tavin replied.

  Lethan babbled something incoherent and then started asking for cookies.

  As they approached the house, Tavin’s mother appeared at the door. “And what, may I ask, happened at the pond? I thought you were just goin’ to wade.”

  “We decided to have a little swim,” Tavin said with a grin. “Now we’re done.” He let go of the boys’ hands and sent them running to their grandma.

  “You two get inside this minute and get your clothes changed. Emmy, you can wear some of Fenella’s things.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her reply hardly more than a murmur.

  “Somehow I can’t help but think that you had more to do with this than anyone,” his mother said, hands on her hips, eyeing Tavin in a most curious manner.

  He put his hand to his chest. “Who, me? I was merely an innocent bystander trying to save everyone from further disaster.”

  Emmalyne thanked Mrs. MacLachlan again for the borrowed clothes. She marveled at the fit; it was almost as if they were made for her. The crisp white shirtwaist and full brown skirt were very much like something Emmalyne would have purchased or made for herself—though in truth she was a much better cook than seamstress.

  She adjusted the pleating on the bodice and looked at herself in Morna MacLachlan’s mirror. The glimmer in her eyes gave her away—Emmalyne could see the glint of hope and happiness in their depths. But she knew she could not allow herself to let it show. No matter why Tavin had chosen to kiss her . . . no matter how much she had appreciated that kiss—yes, wanted it—and had given it back . . . Emmalyne had to gain control of her feelings and whatever might be seen in her face.

  She remembered her mother’s declaration that she didn’t want the tradition to continue. But Emmalyne also thought of her father’s anger and the look he’d given the entire family. He clearly thought they were conspiring against him.

  “But there was nothing planned, no secret plotting behind his back,” she whispered to the face in the mirror. But she knew he’d never believe it. Especially after what had just happened with Tavin.

  By the time she went downstairs carrying the bundle of wet clothes, Morna had already gotten her grandsons changed, and Emmalyne knew it was time to head for home. Mrs. MacLachlan secured Lethan in the high chair and turned to survey Emmalyne.

  “I’m glad to see they fit so well,” she said, approval in her voice. “You and Fenella were always close in size. But not anymore. Fenella has lost so much weight she’s hardly more than skin stretched over bones,” she finished sadly. Lethan fussed and slapped his hands against the wooden tray.

  “Hopefully this new facility will help her to regain her health,” Emmalyne offered as Mrs. MacLachlan retrieved a cookie for the little boy. “It would break her heart to know she’s caused you and her boys harm. So we press forward in hope for healing.”

  “Aye, hope is all we have.”

  Emmalyne noted the clock on the mantel. “I need to get home. Mother will be expecting me, and if I arrive after Father and Angus get there . . . well, I’m sure to hear about it.”

  Mrs. MacLachlan seemed to understand. “You run along. I knew you’d need to go, so I told Tavin to go saddle your horse.”

  Emmalyne trembled. She both feared and longed for what she might say to him . . . what he might say to her. “Thank you. I’ll bring the clothes back tomorrow.”

  “No hurry. Fenella will not be needin’ them for a time. Come on, I’ll walk you out. Lethan is content with his treat.” Already the little boy was munching away on the cookie.

  Emmalyne and Mrs. MacLachlan stepped outside to find Tavin and Gunnar bringing her bay around. Gunnar was quite excited and came running to Emmalyne.

  “We saddled up your horse, and I got to help with the cinch.”

  “Thank you,” Emmalyne said, hugging him close. “I’m sure Tav . . . uh, Mr. MacLachlan appreciated that very much.”

  “You can call him Tavin since he kissed you,” Gunnar announced. “That means he likes you. I knew he would.”

  Emmalyne felt her face grow hot. She didn’t dare look at Morna MacLachlan, but Emmalyne could sense the woman was looking at her, no doubt shocked. A quick glance at Tavin confirmed he wasn’t going to say anything one way or the other. Emmalyne was mortified and knew she must be flushed from her head to her toes.

  “I . . . I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emmalyne hurried over to take up the horse’s reins without even a glance at Tavin. “Thank you.”

  With the wet clothes in her arms, Emmalyne took the reins and pulled the horse forward, not even bothering to mount him. She needed to get away quickly, and she didn’t want to take the time to tie the bundle onto the back of the horse first. Emmalyne never even looked to see if they were all still watching her. She led the horse at a quick pace down the road for home. She reached the road to the quarry just as her father and brother were approaching in the wagon. Her father reined back to slow his animals and looked at her with a frown.

  “Why are ye nae ridin’?”

  She straightened. “It seemed like a good day for a walk.”

  “What’s that in yer arms?” Father asked.

  “Clothes. They’re wet. I went wading with the lads.”

  Angus chuckled. “Looks more like you went swimming.”

  “It was a hot day,” Emmalyne offered with a little shrug.

  “Aye, it was at that.” Her brother seemed to understand that she didn’t wish to continue the discussion. “I do wish the heat would break, although I suppose come December we’ll all be longing for it.”

  “Ye ought to ride so that we can get to the hoose more quickly,” her father said. “Angus, help yer sister mount.”

  Angus jumped down from the wagon and went to assist her. Emmalyne shifted the clothes in order to raise her skirt and fit her foot into the stirrup. She felt herself blush again, remembering how Tavin had kissed her. If Angus noticed her discomfort, he said nothing and lifted her to the sidesaddle.

  Emmalyne arranged herself and settled the wet clothes in front of her. She noted their dampness but had no desire to delay them further by asking her brother to secure them behind her. Angus handed her the reins.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he’d realize it was as much for his understanding as for his help.

  The three moved forward without comment, but as they drew closer to their property, Emmalyne couldn’t help but notice the distinct smell of smoke. “What do you suppose is burning?” she asked, looking back at her father and brother. “Do you smell that?”

  “I do.” Angus lifted his chin and sniffed at the air. “Smells like wood rather than grass.”

  Emmalyne rounded a curve in the road and noted that the air seemed hazy. She felt a sudden fear. “I think it’s coming from our place!” she exclaimed.

  She kicked the horse into a gallop, very nearly losing her seat as she fought to hold the clothes and keep her balance. She heard the wagon rattling behind her and knew her father had followed suit.

  They came up the wooded lane and crossed into the yard to see thick smoke billowing up from behind the house. Emmalyne dropped to the ground and barely took time to tie up the horse before following her brother around back. Angus’s long legs made hi
m much faster, and when Emmalyne and her father arrived moments later, they found Mother weeping in Angus’s arms. The barn was blazing out of control.

  “What happened?” Father demanded.

  “There were three men,” Mother said, fighting to speak between her sobs. “They let me get the cow out. I tied her over there.” Mother motioned to where the milk cow stood in nervous agitation.

  “Who were they?” Father asked angrily. “Did they hurt ye?”

  Mother shook her head. “They never touched me. They . . . they said next time it would be the house unless . . .” Another sob escaped her.

  “Unless what?” Father strode over to where Rowena stood. Emmalyne watched as her mother pulled away from Angus and took hold of Father’s arm.

  “Unless you convince Rabbie to join the union. The men were quite clear. They said this was to be a warning.”

  A portion of the old barn caved in, drawing their attention. It hadn’t been much of a structure, but at least it had offered the animals shelter from the weather. Emmalyne could see her father’s jaw clench. She knew he would never stand for such intimidation.

  “How long ago were they here?” he demanded. “What did they look like?”

  “They left just a few minutes ago.” Mother looked at Emmalyne and shook her head. “I couldn’t see what they looked like. They had kerchiefs pulled up to hide their faces. Two of them were short with big chests and arms. They wore hats, so I couldn’t see too much of their hair. But the one who seemed to be in charge, he was tall with blond hair—curls a girl would envy.”

  “We cannae save the bern. All we can do is let it burn out and keep it from settin’ the hoose afire. Emmy, ye get some water. Wife, ye help her. Angus, fetch the ladder from the front porch, where ye were workin’ last.”

  Emmalyne ran immediately to the pump while Angus raced to the front of the house and the ladder. Two buckets sat near the pump. They generally used these for watering the livestock, but now Emmalyne could only pray they would keep the house from burning down. She handed one bucket to her mother and took the other for herself.

  Angus brought the ladder around and secured it against the back wall of the house. He climbed the rungs and reached down to take up the first bucket of water from Emmalyne. “Keep ’em coming.”

  Emmalyne hurried back to get the other bucket her mother was filling. Angus threw down the empty bucket just as she brought the second one. She hurried back to the pump, wishing they had more to work with.

  By the time the house was doused to her father’s approval the barn flames had lessened considerably. The old dry wood had been quickly consumed, and now the fire had much less to feed on as the charred black frame disintegrated before their eyes. Emmalyne stood back watching the fire, uncertain what else to do.

  “Angus, come with me,” her father commanded.

  Mother looked up. “Where are you going?”

  “After the men who did this,” Father replied. “I wiltnae let any man threaten me this way.”

  Mother hurried across the yard to her husband and took hold of him. “Don’t, Luthias. Don’t do this. They are not good men. They might hurt you if you try to—”

  “Donnae worry.”

  Emmalyne had fully expected her father to turn angry at her mother’s entreaties, but he actually put his hand on her mother’s arm.

  “They’ll nae get the best of Luthias Knox.”

  “But how will you find them?” Mother asked. “It’s been at least half an hour.”

  Her father motioned to the dirt. “One of ’em is ridin’ a horse with a bad shoe.”

  Emmalyne looked to the tracks and marveled at her father’s ability to note such a thing. She’d always been amazed at his tracking skills, but this surprised her once more. There were a great many hoofprints in the dirt, yet her father had spied that particular set and knew it would help him to find the perpetrators of this crime.

  “Oh, Luthias, please be careful.” Her mother was almost in tears again.

  Her father looked at his wife for a moment with a tenderness Emmalyne wasn’t sure she’d ever seen in his face. Father nodded and patted her arm before calling to Angus, “Leave us go.”

  The angry expression returned, and Luthias Knox stalked away like a Scottish chieftain of old—proud and regal, ready to do battle on behalf of his clan. Emmalyne came to her mother’s side. She knew she could say nothing to offer assurance or comfort. Her biggest worry was that this would cause her mother to slip back into her sorrowful state. But to her surprise, Mother took hold of Emmalyne’s arm. “You must get help. Go to the MacLachlans’. Haste ye now!”

  Emmalyne wasn’t sure how she managed to mount the bay without help, but she was flying down the road toward the MacLachlan house before her mother said another word. The thought of turning to their neighbors for help had not entered her mind, but once her mother had made the suggestion, Emmalyne knew it was the right one. Robert MacLachlan would know what to do. He could talk sense into her father when no one else could. He’d surely be able to stop her father from doing something foolish.

  She crossed the distance in what felt like record time. Throwing herself from the back of the horse, Emmalyne crumpled onto the ground. She wanted to cry out but forced her legs to cooperate and got back to her feet. Hurrying to the door of the house, Emmalyne began pounding and calling for help.

  Tavin opened the door. “Em?” he said, his voice full of concern.

  Emmalyne took hold of him. “We need help. Some men burned down our barn. They did it when Mother was alone. They told her next it would be the house if Father didn’t convince your father to join the union.”

  “What?” Tavin shook his head in disbelief.

  “It’s true.” Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Tavin, my father and Angus have gone after the men. You must get your father and stop them. Those men . . . oh, there’s no telling what will happen.”

  “We’ll go.” Robert MacLachlan stepped out from behind his son. “I’ll get the horses.”

  Tavin looked at Emmalyne and reached up to wipe a tear trickling down her cheek. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “Pray instead.”

  Emmalyne nodded. “Father was so angry, Tavin. I’m afraid of what he’ll do if he finds those men.”

  “I know, but your mother will need you to be strong. Let me help you back on your horse. We’ll ride back with you, then follow the tracks.”

  “I’m so sorry, Tavin. I’m so sorry.”

  She knew he’d understand that her apology was for everything that had happened in the past and the present. She knew the years meant nothing. They were still two parts of one heart, now joined once again as they always should have been.

  He smiled and touched her cheek again. “I know, Emmy. I know. I’m sorry, too.”

  Chapter 24

  Tavin and his father rode hard and fast to catch up with the Knox men. They figured the men responsible for the arson attack would have hightailed it back to St. Cloud, so they stuck with the main roads. They weren’t far from the city when Tavin spied Luthias Knox’s wagon stopped on the side of the road. Three saddled horses grazed nearby, suggesting a rather peaceful gathering. Tavin knew it most likely was anything but. As he and his father drew near, it was obvious tensions were high. Luthias Knox was waving his fist in the face of one of the men.

  “Looks like Luthias found his attackers,” Tavin’s father said, slowing his mount. “This could get ugly.”

  “They started it,” Tavin replied.

  They came up behind the wagon and dismounted. Tavin and his father tied their horses onto the Knoxes’ wagon and stepped forward to hear what was being said. Angus noticed them and gave a nod as Tavin approached. The other men had their eyes trained on Luthias Knox.

  “It’s a reckonin’ I want.” Luthias raised his voice and leaned closer to the blond man, who had a good five inches and thirty pounds on the older man. Tavin had to admire Emmalyne’s father for his fearless nature. He didn’t stop for a moment to con
sider that the younger man could most likely best him in a fight. He was ready to fight, and Tavin knew they would have to intervene lest the situation get out of hand.

  “Ye’ll pay to build me a new bern, or ye’ll answer to the law.”

  The man just laughed. He exchanged a look with his friends, who immediately joined him in his amusement. “Ain’t buildin’ you nothin’, old man.”

  “Ye destroyed me bern and threatened me guid wife. I’ll nae be standin’ for it.” Luthias drew back his fist.

  Tavin stepped forward and took hold of the older man’s arm. All of the men now noticed the MacLachlans. Luthias looked at Tavin and narrowed his eyes. The scowl on his face left Tavin little doubt that Knox would just as soon hit him as strike the blond-haired man.

  The tall man’s companions stepped forward, and one of them spoke. “What do you want? This ain’t none of your business.”

  Tavin dropped his hold on Knox. “I came to back up our friend here.” Luthias’s expression changed from anger to confusion. Just as quickly, however, he looked back to the trio and glared.

  Tavin spoke, his voice even but clear. “Looks like you fellows have been causing trouble. A lot of trouble, the way I see it.”

  “Well, I don’t reckon I much care how you see it, MacLachlan,” the tall man sneered.

  Tavin smiled. “Ah, so you know who I am.”

  “I know, all right.” The man spit and cast another sneer at Tavin.

  “And I suppose you are the ones responsible for the mishaps we’ve endured at the quarry?” Tavin asked.

  The man shrugged. “Around here, ain’t no way of knowin’ who’s responsible for what. Stuff happens sometimes. Bad things. Good things.” He cocked his head to one side and grinned. “Just like life.”