South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2)

by Kinslow, Nanette

  Timothy looked up to the big house of Stavewood, to the trees surrounding the yard, swaying in the breeze against a vibrant blue sky. He smiled to himself. He was glad to be home.

  Mark walked to his father’s side, catching his breath, still in his jacket, after chasing Louisa across the yard.

  “Glad to be home?” Timothy grabbed the boy across the shoulders affectionately.

  “You bet,” Mark replied and looked up at the big man.

  “I know learning the business isn’t a lot of fun at your age, but it gets easier. If you can find the time in-between your studies you might want to think about breaking in that filly. I think you’ve earned it.”

  “Really?” Mark gasped in excitement.

  “Have you named her yet?”

  “Strawberry,” he replied enthusiastically.

  “Why did I know it would have something to do with food?” Timothy slapped the boy on the back and went inside to change his clothes.

  Mark laughed and headed for the kitchen.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Birget plunged another chicken into the big pot of boiling water in preparation for plucking. She’d worried too, with the men being away. For nearly fifteen years now she had cooked for Timothy. She’d been there when he had brought Corissa, his first wife, to the estate for the first time. Corissa had been an independent woman with a reserved, dark haired child. Birget had been there when Corissa had tired of the isolation in the wilderness of Minnesota. Through the days and months following the woman’s fatal accident she had put food down in front of Elgerson and his son until he closed down Stavewood and moved them out of the big house, for a while, to a tiny cabin north of the property.

  She had returned to Stavewood on the day he had come back with a woman no bigger than the boy. That tiny girl had taken over the staff and the estate from the moment she walked in the door. She had seen her change the man into the best of men. The portly cook had watched the boy begin to smile and the man begin to find a reason to live. She was there the day they had returned with little Louisa in their arms, the day of the mill accident and the weeks of suffering and healing that had followed.

  Now she watched Roland Vancouver tickling the newest Elgerson and his own son, while still dressed in his business clothing, on the big quilt in the yard. She watched Mark pushing Louisa on the swing until she went high enough to squeal and cause her mother to admonish him. She watched Emma, healthy and beautiful in her summer dress sit beside her husband, looking at him with love and warmth in her eyes. She watched Timothy Elgerson stand in the yard and look up at the house thoughtfully, his hands on his hips.

  Birget thought she’d need another chicken for dinner tonight at Stavewood, and she wiped a happy tear from her cheek as she began her plucking.

  Timothy rolled out the maps on the big table in the formal dining room at Stavewood so everyone could see. “We’ll have to build the station ourselves, but the railroad will put in the switches. The plan is that it will be finished right after Christmas. We can start building the mills immediately. Tomorrow I’ll need you to post the want ads in town, Roland. We will want to begin the hiring and training immediately so we can fully staff both of the new mills as soon as they open.”

  Rebecca had never seen him share very much about his business, watching him struggle alone with legal forms and land deeds. The plans seemed overwhelming, yet Timothy appeared completely confident in his strategy and ability.

  He gathered the family and set the babies into Rebecca’s new pram and all together they walked the back path to the mills and he began to point out the locations and describe his vision.

  “There will be a bridge across here, where the river narrows. The station will be on the other side near that clearing, there. Beyond that will be the mills. This mill will feed the river with logs. The ones on the other side will supply lumber and logs onto the train. There will be a train yard over there,” he indicated. “That way they’ll be off the track while loading. All of that area from this side to beyond the new mills will be cleared.”

  Mark thought about the train yard he had seen in Missouri and struggled to imagine the same ugliness here in the woodland. He could not help feeling a pang knowing how large an area they would have to clear to accommodate such an enormous endeavor. It was a good distance to Stavewood, but in his mind all of the land was his backyard. It would be a change to which he would have to adjust.

  Roland knew the workload would increase immensely, but Timothy had assured him that he would allow him all of the staff he would need to fill all three mills, run at full capacity, and hire the managers to distribute the load. For the next several months they would be very busy, but in the long run they would be building something that would last for generations to come. Timothy’s offer to sell him a good portion of the stock would give him something to pass on to his son, and any other heirs. It was a part of a family business which was something he never would have had otherwise and he was grateful beyond words.

  “This is a future for Ottland,” he explained to Emma as they walked home. Mark will hold one third, Timothy one and me the other third. Our son, and any other children, will have a future here.”

  Emma studied his face seriously. She was grateful for Timothy’s offer, and understood the value and ramifications of it. Roland’s explanation also brought up the subject of more children. She had thought about it many times over the last several days, watching Louisa and the babies playing together. She thought that maybe Ottland needed a sibling in time, and that Roland might enjoy a larger family.

  Emma did not bite her tongue and keep her thoughts to herself. “Then before long,” she ventured, “we should have another child. This will be an awfully big place for Ottland and little Phillip to run alone.”

  Roland examined her closely. “Another?” he questioned. “Can we? After…” He voice trailed off.

  “I think so,” she smiled. “We’ll see. We might want to wait a little bit, but I think we might consider practicing in the meantime.” She smiled at him impishly and he kissed her affectionately on the cheek. He tickled her waist and she giggled happily.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Ottland squealed loudly as he toddled across the porch with Phillip close behind. He plunked down onto the wooden boards, now dusted with a thin layer of fresh snow. He grabbed the porch railing awkwardly with his chubby fist and struggled to his feet and resumed his tottering run. Phillip plopped down next, cushioned in his thick cotton diaper, and reverted to crawling on all fours, legs stiff, while he tried to escape their pursuer.

  “I’m going to catch both of you and tickle you all over!” Louisa crouched behind them, threatening, in slow, over-exaggerated moves. The toddlers giggled loudly. Émigré ran along the porch, then on the ground, his tongue lolling and tail wagging. He found that if he ran among the children they fell often and, to avoid being scolded, he left distance between himself and the toddlers during play.

  “What on earth are they doing out there?” Rebecca moved aside the curtains to watch the play from the parlor.

  “Sara is with them. They’re fine,” Timothy assured her, as he looked up from his paperwork.

  With his buildings near completion and the new track laid, he was beginning to focus on starting production. The sheriff had assured him that no one was living at the Wientraub place and he had finally given up the constant worry that another stranger would threaten the families. He could not help thinking, though, that summer might bring more incidents.

  He stood up and crossed the room to stand beside his wife, watching the children roughhouse on the porch. He could feel the vibration of their stomping and stumbling on the heavy floorboards and knew that their rambunctious play was only just starting. In a few years they would be much quicker on their feet and would escape Louisa’s pursuit easily. “This is only the beginning,” he muttered close to Rebecca and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “If they can make this much of a clamor at their size,�
�� Rebecca mused, “I can’t imagine what it will be like living in this house when those boys are both ten.”

  “Consider yourself lucky that Mark is not out there as well,” Timothy chuckled.

  She shook her head slowly and faced her husband, putting her slender hand on his broad chest. “It’s nice having you home today,” she smiled. “You’ve been working so hard. I miss you.”

  “You do?” he smiled warmly.

  “And you’ve been so tired. Perhaps you could do with a nap.” She looked up at her husband provocatively.

  “Oh?” He lifted a brow and studied her beautiful face.

  “Since the children are so busy, and Sara is out in the yard keeping an eye on them I thought perhaps we might retire upstairs briefly.” She teased open a button on his white shirt.

  “Your proposition is intriguing, madam.” His smirk was inviting.

  “Well,” she continued. “It’s so awfully warm in here by the fire and I feel so terribly overdressed. I thought I might go upstairs and maybe unbutton my bodice, just a little bit to cool off. If that didn’t help I might unbutton it just a bit more, to cool off more, of course.”

  “Go on.” He was beginning to feel a bit warm himself.

  “And if I simply cannot cool off enough from that I might have to remove my dress entirely and then I would hope to cool off more in just my camisole. It’s very sheer, you know, so that should work. Don’t you think?” She ran her slender finger inside of his shirt.

  In an instant he swept her up into his arms and the couple disappeared upstairs.

  Rebecca slipped his shirt from his shoulders as he sat on the bed, charmed by her provocative behavior. Timothy loved her comfortable familiarity and was enthralled with her intimate enjoyment of their lovemaking. He felt captivated by her healthy need of him and their private time together.

  She felt his desire for her and knew he wanted only her. She disrobed slowly. Her figure was delicate and her complexion smooth and creamy. When she had unclothed entirely she stood before him, watching him invitingly and he could contain himself no longer. He pulled her to him, her skin soft and supple. He kissed her passionately and rolled her with him onto the bed. She returned his passion, captive in her own desire of him and looked down and stroked his chest boldly.

  Timothy Elgerson was certain he would never want another woman.

  Roland Vancouver watched a single snowflake float to the sill as he stood by the window looking out over the meadow.

  “I can’t decide what season makes it more beautiful,” Emma said, stepping to his side and admiring the view.

  He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.

  “Have I told you today that I love you?” She put her head on his shoulder.

  “I think so,” he said softly. “You might tell me again if you like.”

  “Every minute of every day, I love you.” She inhaled deeply.

  He turned to look at her and studied her face closely. She had changed, he thought, from the drawn, thin woman he had first laid eyes on. Now her face glowed with love and contentment. He would give her anything in the world to see her happy, and now, standing here looking up into his face, he could see that she already was.

  Emma saw a man with a strong, fine face. He had been busy with his work and his hair now reached his shoulders. She smiled at how handsome he looked to her, how wonderful that she now saw warm love in his eyes and not the pain of injury. He filled her heart, her life and she did love him entirely.

  He looked into her eyes and kissed her gently.

  She slipped her hands around his neck and felt the silky smoothness of his hair through her fingers, the soft skin on the back of his neck. She pressed herself closer to him, wanting more of him, wanting his love.

  His kisses were hungry for her and she responded in kind.

  When she began to unfasten her bodice he kissed the rise in her breast and she lay back against his arm and whispered his name softly.

  “Roland.”

  It had never changed, he thought. From the first time she had uttered his name he knew he loved her. He wanted to hear her say it, just this way, for all time.

  He gathered her into his arms, felt her grasp his neck and he carried her up the stairs.

  When they lay together they were as one in their love and desire for each other. He knew her body well and was eager to please her and fulfill her need. When she whispered his name sensually once again she was satisfied.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  At the schoolhouse, Mark scratched his head while puzzling over the math test on the desk in front of him. He had always liked that he only attended class in town a few days a week and had a tutor available a couple of more days. It usually put him ahead of his peers and he enjoyed the feeling of always being comfortable with his learning ability. These days however, his father had decided to tailor more of his lessons to business applications and he found some of the calculating rather challenging. He thought he’d rather have a good lesson on history. Stories of great generals and the victories of war were best. He thought he could do without the politics as well and of course, the complicated math.

  When he had finished the exam he gathered his books and walked out into the schoolyard.

  “I hear your father is hiring half the territory at the mills. I filled out an application myself.” Samuel Evens walked up beside him, his own books in hand.

  Mark looked up at the boy, just a year older than he and the thought crossed his mind that one day he might have friends he had known all of his life working beside him, perhaps as his boss, or he as theirs. Lately he found himself considering the responsibility the new mills were bringing to his life.

  He pushed the thought from his mind and loaded his books into the saddle bag.

  “I’ll race you to the mill road,” Samuel challenged.

  Mark looked at his friend’s filly and shook his head. He knew Sam had won it fair and square at the wedding a while back. Losing stung less these days, especially now that Roland and his father decided he could keep the filly that had been born in Roland’s field. She was just about ready for breaking. It wouldn’t be long that she would give Sam’s horse a real run.

  “Save it, Sam.” He mounted the mare. “This horse is fine but when Strawberry is ready to run I’m going to leave you in the dust.” He chuckled and turned the horse towards home.

  “She’s fine, Elgerson,” Sam laughed, “but this one’s pretty fine, too.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “What time are you coming tonight?” Sam asked Mark as they reached the fork in the road.

  “I’ll be over after supper.”

  “See you then!” Sam headed towards his home and Mark continued down the trail toward Stavewood. He had waited anxiously all week for the dance at the Even’s barn. Sam would be turning twenty and it certainly would be a night of celebration. Mark had considered asking Timothy if he might have a party himself, maybe after the mill opened.

  He rushed through his supper and ran up to dress for the party.

  Timothy watched him pull the wagon off towards the dance and walked back into the house. “He’s a good kid,” he said to himself.

  The party had drawn almost everyone close to the boys’ ages for miles around. Mark listened to the band from the loft with a couple of boys who had graduated recently, and stood whispering in the hay.

  “Hey, Elgerson,” one of them hissed out.

  “Hey.” Mark walked over and leaned down to see what they were up to.

  “Did you ever taste moonshine?” Albert Malling held up a small jug.

  “No thanks.” Mark went back to watching the dancers.

  “Elgerson,” the boy whispered again. “Afraid?”

  “Nope,” Mark replied confidently. “Just don’t like it.” His father had let him taste some liquor a couple of times and he didn’t enjoy it. One time he and Sam had tried a few glasses and Mark didn’t care for the disorienting sensation the alcohol broug
ht about. He decided to leave the boys to their drinking and head downstairs.

  “Sam.” Mark walked up beside his friend and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Nice party.”

  “Hey, Mark!” Sam turned to face him and handed him a glass of punch. “I’m glad you came.”

  Mark smiled at him and nodded. He always enjoyed Sam’s genuine smile and his easy going approach. As long as he could remember, Sam seemed to always be in good spirits, even that time that Timothy had made them round up the chickens at the cabin. Mark had been red-faced and irritated, but Sam laughed as if the whole event was completely entertaining. The two young men often found a balance when they spent time together. They had hunted and fished with their fathers since they were boys and both could handle a rifle or a line.

  Bernadette Shofield watched them both from the corner of the room intently. She knew that Mark didn’t like her. He didn’t seem to like most of the girls from Billington. She didn’t know about the other girls, but she figured he didn’t care for her because her family couldn’t afford pretty dresses and fancy hats and hair curling. Her dress wasn’t the best around tonight, but she had saved up and bought it from the second hand shop and it was almost like new. She did her best to set her hair in the rags she had, like she had seen the women in the shop wearing theirs. She wasn’t rich like Mark, but she thought she looked alright tonight and perhaps he’d dance with her.

  “Hello.” She walked up to him and looked down at her feet. She frowned as she watched Sam walk away.

  “Hi,” Mark replied distantly.

  “I thought you might dance with me, I mean if it’s okay.” She looked up at his face expectantly.