Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02]

by The Quarryman's Bride

  “Now, I’d never have expected someone like you to wax philosophical,” Tavin said, eyes narrowed.

  “I ain’t waxin’ nothin’.” The man looked to his friends. “Sometimes a man needs to think about what’s important. That’s all I’m suggestin’.”

  Robert MacLachlan stepped forward. “Well, what I’m suggestin’ is a wee bit different. I donnae ken who put you up to this, but I do ken who will end it.”

  “You, old man?” one of the trio asked, his sarcasm unmistakable. The man had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. He looked as if his nose had been broken a time or two and his fists were the size of hams. “I’ll fight you, and we’ll see how well that goes.” He raised his large hands in a menacing pose.

  “It seems like you two could use some help,” the blond man interjected, looking at Tavin. “But just two old men and their lads hardly make an army.”

  “You seem pretty familiar with who’s who,” Tavin responded. “But even so, you’d be surprised,” Tavin said matter-of-factly.

  The blonde smiled and crossed his arms. “Look here. It’s a pity about the old man’s barn, but he has no way of proving it was us. Same for you and your quarry . . . ‘accidents.’ If you were union members, part of the Granite Cutter’s Brotherhood—why, we’d be more’n happy to help figure out who was to blame. Better still, folks would know not to mess around with you.”

  “That’s right,” one of his companions declared. “Union looks out for its own.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Tavin replied. “However, as I heard directly from your union boss, he doesn’t approve of these kinds of . . . incentives.”

  The blonde laughed. “Well, we figure what he don’t know won’t hurt him. The way I see it, getting folks to join is what matters. How we get them isn’t really all that important. But, like I said, you can’t prove that we’re anything but honorable men.”

  Luthias Knox folded his arms against his chest. “Ye frighten wimen and destroy property and think it an honorable thing. I’d like to talk to that leader of yers and let him know jes what ye’ve been about.”

  “Our leader . . . as you call him . . . won’t take your word over ours. He knows we’re loyal.” The blond-haired man gave a knowing smile. “Loyalty means a lot in these parts.”

  “So does honor,” Tavin countered. “A man is nothing if he has no honor. The way I see it, you three lack much in that regard.”

  Again the tall man shrugged. “You can’t prove a thing, MacLachlan. Go to the law if you want. There’s nothing you can say to prove anything.”

  “My guid wife can identify ye,” Luthias said, stepping forward, his hands again balled into fists. “And one of those beasties carries a bad shoe.” He pointed to the horses. “Ye left tracks all around me hoose.”

  “Hardly proof, old man.” The blonde elbowed his companions. “Let’s get out of here. I’m bored with this conversation.”

  Tavin put himself between Luthias and the taller man, fearing Emmalyne’s father might do something foolish. “You’d do well to listen. Whether or not the men of our quarry join the union will be left entirely up to them to decide. Be forewarned: We’ll have armed guards posted, and if anyone so much as rustles the brush around the quarry, we’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

  The man frowned and narrowed his eyes as he stared hard at Tavin. “I don’t take well to threats, mister.”

  Tavin nodded, his lips pulled down at the corners. “Neither do we.”

  The four returned to the Knox property and surveyed the damage. Daylight was nearly gone, and it was impossible to make much more than a cursory examination. Some of the boards were still smoldering.

  “Good thing there wasn’t a wind,” Tavin said, shaking his head. “Even so, it burned faster’n dried kindling.”

  “’Twas an auld homestead,” Robert explained, “and the hoose and bern werenae put together all that well.” He looked to Luthias and slapped his back. “Me and my lads will come on the morrow and see what’s to be done to rebuild.”

  Emmalyne was surprised when her father didn’t refuse but politely thanked his friend. Her father’s pride usually would not have allowed him to accept help of any kind. Perhaps the whole event of the fire, the loss of the barn, and neighborly help in accosting the union men had changed her father. She watched him embrace his friend and threw Angus a silent look of question. He shrugged while Mother dabbed tears from her eyes.

  Is this an answer to my prayer, Lord? Has Father had a change of heart? Did it take this attack to make him see the truth? And then, most startling of all, she watched Father reach out and shake hands with Tavin.

  “Thank ye for yer help.”

  Emmalyne couldn’t suppress a gasp. She tried to quickly cover it with a cough, but she immediately felt Tavin’s gaze upon her. The thought of his kiss caused her to move her hand to her lips. Worrying that Tavin would know what she was thinking, Emmalyne quickly pretended to push back a wisp of hair from her face. She looked away for fear of what his expression might hold. Is he embarrassed about it, wishing it had never happened? she wondered.

  “Are you sure you won’t stay for supper?” Mother asked Robert and Tavin.

  “Nae. Morna had supper ready for us when Emmalyne showed up with the news. We’ll go back to it now,” Mr. MacLachlan replied. “She’ll be worried sick until we return and tell her what has happened.”

  “She may be even more worried once she hears the truth,” Mother noted, her gaze on the ground. “I worry they’ll be back. . . .”

  “They’ll nae cause ye more harm,” Father assured her.

  Emmalyne heard the determination in his tone and knew her father wouldn’t rest until the men paid for their deeds. She still didn’t know the details of what had happened on the road, but she did know her father. He would press this matter with the law officials as soon as he could. And maybe even take things into his own hands . . .

  The men walked to the front of the house, where the horses were waiting. Emmalyne and Mother stared at the mess that had once been the barn. The smoldering wood created a terrible stench. Mother drew her apron to her nose.

  “Pray for rain, Emmy. There’s no better way to clear the air and make certain that fire’s no more of a threat to us.”

  “Father said he and Angus were going to tend to it after supper,” Emmalyne said, putting her arm around her mother’s shoulder. “I’m sure they’re very hungry, so we’d best get the table set.”

  Mother looked to Emmalyne and shook her head. “What manner of man would do such a thing to honest, hardworking people?”

  “I don’t know, Mother. Hopefully Father and the MacLachlans were able to reason with them.” But Emmalyne knew her father’s wrath and feared his temper had probably trumped any hope of reason.

  It was much later, when Emmalyne was preparing for bed, that she heard a noise outside. Had the arsonists returned? She went to the window to look at the yard below. In the moonlight she could see her father. He was striking a match to light his pipe.

  Pulling her shawl around her, Emmalyne felt an urge to join him. She didn’t know why or what she would say, but she was out the front door before she knew it.

  “Father?” she said quietly into the darkness.

  “Emmalyne, what’re ye doin’ out here?”

  “I heard a noise and thought those men might have returned. When I looked out, I saw you here.” She caught a whiff of his pipe tobacco—much different from the odor of the burned barn. The aromatic scent always reminded her of her father.

  “Yer brother and I will keep watch, fear ye nae. Nocht will happen while we stand guard.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” she said. Emmalyne longed to acknowledge her father’s kindness after the fire, but she didn’t wish to offend him. For several minutes she stood in the darkness with him, listening to him draw on the pipe.

  “Yer gonna catch yer death out here. Best ye haste to bed.”

  Emmalyne felt such an ache in her heart
. She longed to know this man as a loving father. She had always yearned for him to be more like Robert MacLachlan was with Fenella, but he never had been so inclined.

  “Father, may I ask you something?”

  “Aye,” he said in a barely audible voice.

  Emmalyne swallowed her fear and pressed on. “Mother said that you blame her for forcing you to marry her. Is that true?”

  He said nothing for a time, and Emmalyne thought perhaps he would refuse to answer her at all. Perhaps she had overstepped propriety, and his silence was her comeuppance.

  Just when she figured she might as well head back into the house, he spoke. “Do ye think me a man to be forced into anythin’?”

  She considered this a moment. “No, I suppose I don’t. But Mother said—”

  “Yer mother says a lot of things. It doesnae make them so.” He paused again for a long moment, then finally added, “I married willingly.”

  “So then you loved her once?” Emmalyne asked, her heart beating hard at her boldness.

  “Aye. I loved her then . . . and I love her now.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Nae that ma ways would prove it. Tonight I saw her fear, and it shamed me. I hinnae been a guid man. I dinnae bide the stour well.”

  “Bearing struggles is always hard without turning to God,” Emmalyne dared to say. She stepped closer to where her father stood. “But the Bible says we can always come back to Him.”

  “Aye.”

  Her father said nothing more, and Emmalyne knew what he’d already offered was more than she could have hoped for. Without asking, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  “Good night, Father.” She left him then, but paused on the porch steps. “I’ll be praying for you—for all of us.” For the first time in her life, Emmalyne felt hope for her father to finally find peace. She wanted to sing and shout in praise to God but knew it would only frighten her mother and brother, who were no doubt sleeping by this time.

  She smiled to herself and all but danced up the stairs to her small room. God was at work, and it would be difficult to sleep just imagining all the possibilities that might await them all.

  Tavin was surprised to find his father sitting at the kitchen table. It was late, nearly midnight. A single lamp and an open Bible were in front of him.

  “Seeking answers?” Tavin asked.

  “Aye, and seeking wisdom,” his father replied.

  Tavin nodded. “I’ve been remiss in that.”

  “There’s no time like the present,” his father said with a smile.

  Sitting down across from him, Tavin met his father’s weary gaze. “And where has God led you this night?”

  “To the Psalms. Psalm one hundred nineteen. It’s a long one, and my eyes are weary,” he replied, rubbing them as if for emphasis. “But I am compelled by the words there.”

  “Yes,” Tavin said. “Words of wisdom.”

  “And of grace,” his father said, looking back at him. “Grace and mercy, truth and hope. ’Tis all there for man if we will but seek it.”

  Tavin looked away, then back at his father. “If we will but seek it,” he repeated.

  His father smiled and pushed the Bible toward his son. “I’ll be headin’ to bed now,” he said as he rose. “Mayhap you’d like a moment to seek for yourself.”

  Tavin turned the Bible to view the Scripture his father had been reading. Because of the hour the sixty-second verse caught his attention. At midnight I will rise to give thanks unto thee because of thy righteous judgments.

  He read on silently as the clock chimed the hour.

  I am a companion of all them that fear thee, and of them that keep thy precepts. The earth, O Lord, is full of thy mercy: teach me thy statutes. Thou hast dealt well with thy servant, O Lord, according unto thy word. Teach me good judgment and knowledge: for I have believed thy commandments. Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept thy word. Thou art good, and doest good; teach me thy statutes.

  He breathed deeply, feeling the Word of God in the very depths of his soul.

  He continued through the verses like a starving man. How could he have neglected this for so many years when it had once been so important to him? How could he have set up a wall of anger between him and the only hope he’d ever known?

  The last three verses of the chapter stirred Tavin, and he found himself murmuring them aloud as a prayer.

  “‘I have longed for thy salvation, O Lord; and thy law is my delight. Let my soul live, and it shall praise thee; and let thy judgments help me. I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek thy servant; for I do not forget thy commandments.’”

  He glanced into the flame of the lamp. “I have gone astray like a lost sheep, Lord,” he said aloud. “But now I long to come home. Please, Lord . . . take me back.”

  Warmth spread throughout his body and comfort washed over him like a gentle summer rain. Tavin closed his eyes and rested in the peace of the moment. For the first time in a very long time he could feel God’s pleasure.

  He had come home.

  Chapter 25

  “Tavin will take the lead wagon,” his father instructed. “The others will follow.” There were eight wagons in all, and each was loaded to capacity with granite ready for shipping on the railroad. Despite the accident, they were meeting their contract deadline with time to spare.

  In the days that had passed since the Knox barn burned down, Tavin and his father had gone with Luthias Knox and the local authorities to confront the union leader in St. Cloud. The man had been unhappy to hear what had happened, but both he and the sheriff were of the opinion there was no way to prove who the arsonists were.

  Tavin disagreed, reminding them that Mrs. Knox had been present when the barn had been set afire. But the sheriff countered that it would be her word against theirs, and without further supporting evidence, he could do nothing. Mr. Knox promised that should the men step foot again on his property, there would be evidence enough because he would shoot all three without regard.

  This announcement still brought a smile to Tavin’s face. He didn’t believe that Knox would really shoot them, but he had no doubt that the older man would find some way to restrain them long enough for the law to arrive. The union man had been less amused. He declared he would speak to his men to ensure such incidents didn’t happen again. Tavin looked at the sheriff to see if the man had also picked up on this near admission of guilt by the union boss, but there was no sign he’d noticed it.

  “Might I ride with ye?”

  Tavin looked down from the wagon seat to Luthias Knox. He couldn’t hide his surprise. “You can, but may I ask why would you want to?”

  “I have business in town and with ye. If ye donnae mind, I thought we could talk on the way.”

  Nodding, Tavin offered the man his hand. “Come on up.”

  Mr. Knox quickly complied. He took his place beside Tavin and said nothing more until the caravan of wagons was headed to St. Cloud. Even then, they were a few miles down the road before he spoke.

  “Ye ne’r answered my question,” Knox said without turning to look at Tavin.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What question?” Tavin was most acutely aware of Emmalyne’s father beside him and had been waiting anxiously to hear what he wanted to discuss. He looked to Knox and waited for him to answer.

  The older man cast a sidelong glance at Tavin, then returned his gaze to the road ahead. “Ye know, the one I asked a while ago. Do ye still love ma daughter?”

  Tavin grew thoughtful. He could again refuse to answer the man’s question, but to what purpose? “I do, sir,” Tavin finally said in a barely audible voice.

  Knox nodded and continued to stare at the landscape. Tavin considered pressing the man for an explanation, but he held his tongue. He’d known Luthias Knox long enough to know the man wouldn’t say anything before he was good and ready.

  “Emmy still loves ye, as well.” The statement was not said in anger or accusation. Knox cleared his throat and added, �
��She always has.”

  The breath caught in Tavin’s chest. He didn’t know what to say. He knew Mr. Knox was not a man to speak lightly about such things. His bringing the matter up would not have been done without a great deal of thought.

  “It isnae easy for a man like me to admit his mistakes,” Knox continued. His expression was still hard and fixed, but his voice had softened. “I did ye and Emmy wrong. I ken that now, but back then . . .” He sighed and rubbed his hands back and forth on his thighs.

  “I cannae take back what’s been done,” the man finally said. “I’ve been the cause of a great deal of sufferin’. Emmy and the others, yerself included, have had to live with ma bad decisions.” Knox fell silent then. His sigh seemed to indicate that the truth of his words was too much to bear.

  Tavin felt awkward, wondering what he should say or do. The team handled well together and was easy to drive, so Tavin couldn’t use that as an excuse to busy his mind. He thought to pray and started a silent request for understanding when Knox once again began to speak.

  “Emmalyne is a guid lass. She keeps her word and isnae mindful of her own . . . heart. On the other hand, I hinnae had consideration for anyone save maself. I thought only to see to ma own needs and concerns.” He finally looked at Tavin. “I’ve always been a willful and prideful man. I thought it served me well at times, but nae with ma family. They grew to despise me, jest as you must.”

  Tavin drew a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “I don’t despise you, Mr. Knox. And neither does your family. I used to, I have to admit, but no longer. My battle was more with myself . . . and God.”

  Mr. Knox nodded in a meaningful fashion. “Aye. It’s been so with me, as well.”

  They were very nearly to town and to the railroad depot where they would off-load the stone. Tavin had a million questions running through his head—not the least of which was why Knox had chosen this moment to say something.

  “A selfish man doesnae care about the pain he causes,” Knox said before Tavin could pose his question. “He serves himself. ’Tis ashamed I am of the man I’ve become.” He looked away, shaking his head. “I ken the truth, and it cuts me deep.”