“I wish I knew,” he replied honestly.
“Are you in love with her?” Rebecca thought it best to be open with the boy and ask him straight out.
He searched her face intently. He had always considered Rebecca a friend, he knew that she always had his best interests in mind, and he knew that both she and his father cared about him deeply. He looked from the woman to his father and took a deep breath. He had asked himself the same question often over the last few weeks. Now, hearing it put to him out loud, and from his family, the answer was there.
“No,” he responded. “At first she said all the right things. We talked about being judged by our families. She was always the Shofield girl, no more. I have always been an Elgerson. I mean no disrespect, Pa. It just is the way I have always been seen. We talked about how we were more than our names. How we could be that, and ourselves too. We talked about it a lot.”
Timothy frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He thought about Octavia Weintraub, and her mother. Dianna had wanted a comfortable life for her daughter. Their desire for that had cost them everything.
Having money made people see you in a special light and he just hadn’t thought how Mark was growing up facing the same challenges that he had. It occurred to him that Phillip would face the same things.
“Do you think she’s in love with you?” Timothy asked.
Mark searched his father’s face. He thought of a time they had been at the mill alone, one Sunday afternoon. He had kissed her. Just a light kiss of affection, and she had taken his hand and boldly put it on her breast.
He remembered that he had stood there, not knowing what to do. She felt soft and warm and exciting. She kissed him back, but it was not lightly and for several moments she held his hand there. He felt her press against him and he wanted her, but something was wrong. He realized that he didn’t want her that way. He didn’t want her the way he had always thought he would want a woman. It felt shallow and was nothing more than a desire of flesh. He had turned from her and it was clear she was surprised and at a loss. One of the things that had nagged at him was the overwhelming feeling that she had done this before and that this was not a private moment, but some kind of manipulation. The next time he saw her she seemed fine and cheerful.
“No,” he responded to his father’s question. “She wants me, but, no.”
“Wants you?” Timothy asked.
Mark looked up at Rebecca and scowled.
“I can come back,” she turned to excuse herself.
“No, stay.” He ran his hands through his hair.
“She tried to seduce me once,” he spit it out.
“Are you lovers?” Rebecca asked frankly. “That way?”
“No,” he replied emphatically. “Not at all.”
As soon as he said it, it all seemed clear to him. He was not in love with Bernadette Shofield. Now it seemed to be very simple.
“I’m sorry, Pa.” He looked at his father, his face dark. “I’m not in love with her, I never have been. If there is some reason she’s here, that’s not it. I don’t know what she wants, but I will do whatever you need me to do so that this doesn’t happen again.”
“I can take care of the business end of this, it’s not a problem.” Timothy put his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“I’ll talk to her.” Mark remembered what Roland had told him about no one liked to be told they were not good enough for something, but he knew it was a conversation he had to have with the girl.
Mark didn’t know exactly what he would say to her, but he took out his horse and rode towards Bernadette’s. By the time he reached the outskirts of Billington he actually felt better about things and decided that, although it would be difficult, he would tell her that he didn’t see her as a girlfriend. He hoped she took it well, but whether she did or not, it was how he felt.
When he turned the corner onto Main Street and saw her kissing Samuel Evens, openly, out on the street, he pulled up his horse in surprise and confusion.
He turned back towards home, more mixed up than ever.
“Bernadette,” Samuel Evens took the girl by the shoulders and pushed her away. He scowled at her. “What was that about?” he asked her in confusion.
“I just want you to know how I feel about you. My father is out, let’s go inside.”
“No, Bernadette. I don’t think so.” Sam walked away. All this time he thought she was committed to Mark Elgerson. Now he didn’t know what to think.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Roland sat on the bench beside the sandbox at the little corner park in the middle of downtown Billington. Ottland had found the hardware store fascinating, and Roland had seen it was so dangerous for a toddler that he had taken the child to play outside while Emma purchased items for the house.
The child busily filled a tin and dumped it repeatedly, content in the sand.
Mina Caudell stepped out of the millinery shop in her new bonnet and saw Roland sitting alone on the bench.
“Hello, Roland,” she stood beside the bench, sliding her gloves onto her pale hands.
“Mina,” he nodded.
She examined the bench and decided it was clean enough to sit on if she had to, since Roland wouldn’t stand up to greet her properly.
Mina lowered herself down beside him. She thought that if she spoke to him nicely he might respond to her. He still was very handsome, even if he wasn’t the man he once was, and he didn’t seem to have that embarrassing limp any longer. She did miss him terribly since the accident and there was no one around who was as interesting as he had once been.
“I suppose you are still married to that blonde woman,” she remarked, making small talk.
“Yes,” he replied.
“And I guess you are walking pretty well now,” She opened her parasol to shade her face from the sun.
He did not respond.
“Why on earth are you sitting over here by this dirt instead of over there in the shade where it’s nicer?”
“The sandbox is here,” he replied, never looking up.
She looked at the box on the ground, framed in wooden boards and filled with what looked like beach sand.
“Da!” Ottland yelped. “Da!” The child pressed a handful of damp sand into the box.
“What are you making there?” Roland asked the child.
Mina looked at the youngster in the box and then to the man.
“Whose child is that?” she asked looking around. She looked back at the toddler, then to Roland.
Ottland stood up and filled his cup with sand, toddled to Roland and poured sand over his knee.
“That’s your child?” It was suddenly very clear to Mina that the toddler looked exactly like the man.
“He’s all mine,” Roland looked up to her and smiled broadly.
She scowled. “He looks just like you,”
she muttered.
“Thanks,” he replied. He lifted the child and sat him on his knee. The toddler kissed the man on his cheek and giggled.
Mina rose slowly, nodded to Roland and hurried down the street.
“I think you scared her away with your sand, my friend,” he spoke softly to the child. “I’ll remember that, should I run into her in the future.” He leaned close to the child’s ear and Ottland sat perfectly still, listening to his father’s whispers.
“What secret are you two sharing now?” Emma approached and sat down on the bench beside them.
“We’re scaring away monsters,” Roland smiled.
Samuel Evens followed the mill road towards Billington after his work shift. He was wondering to himself why he had waited so long to look for work there. The mill paid far better than the grocery store and he didn’t have to wear out his horse pulling the market buggy making deliveries. He looked up beyond the fork and saw Mark walking his horse towards Stavewood, and turned up to see if he needed help.
“Did you throw a shoe?” He galloped his horse up close to the Elgerson mare.
“It
’s fine,” Mark growled.
“I’ll ride you home if you want,” he offered.
“Don’t bother, I’m perfectly fine.” Mark continued to walk home, never looking up to greet his friend. The horse’s loose shoe had only aggravated him further.
“Ah, c’mon. It’s not that bad. She isn’t hurt or anything.”
“I’m fine. Leave it alone, Sam. Just go home.”
“Did you eat some bitter pickles for lunch?” Samuel slid from the back of his horse and put his hand on Mark’s forearm.
Mark shook him off and glared at him. “I told you to leave,” he snarled.
“What is your problem, Elgerson? You have no call to speak to me that way.”
“No? You want to tell me what’s going on with you and Bernadette?”
“Hey, wait a minute.” Samuel Evens’ face turned bright red.
“Tell me there’s not anything going on between you. Tell me.” Mark glared at him, inches from his face.
“I’ll tell you. That girl is trouble, Elgerson. Yesterday and a couple days before that she just up and kisses me. Right out of nowhere. I told her to stop.”
“It didn’t look like you were saying stop out in the middle of the street just a while back.”
“Aw, Mark. I did. I told her to stop. I know she’s your girl.”
“You can have her,” Mark spat. “You’ve been after her for as long as I can remember. Go ahead, she’s yours, but you and I are done.”
“That’s not right.” Samuel Evens grabbed Mark Elgerson by the arm and tried to reason with him.
Mark’s face burned red and his fist came up and landed squarely on the jaw of his friend.
Sam fell in the road with a thud and shook his head.
“That’s the way you want it? You want to fight me over that girl? Fine.” He leapt to his feet and lunged toward his challenger.
Both boys fell hard into the dust of the road, kicking and punching.
Mark overtook him and began punching him repeatedly.
“Get off,” Samuel began yelling. “I don’t want to do this!”
As Roland and Emma returned from their shopping trip the man saw the fray in the middle of the road and kicked up his horse. As he neared the battle and recognized the fighting boys he handed the reins to Emma and leapt from the wagon.
“What the hell is going on here?” he bellowed. He lifted the Evens boy by his collar and Mark lunged at him, pulling him from Roland’s grasp.
The man pried the two apart and Sam scooted away to the side of the road. Mark was growling like an animal and Roland struggled to hold him down.
“Calm down,” he yelled in his face. Mark raised his fist as if to hit the man and Roland glared at him. “You even try it and we will have a serious problem, kid.”
Mark Elgerson pushed himself away from the man and spit on the ground as he lay in the road.
“Stay right there!” Roland commanded and went to check the Evens boy. His lip was split and he had a black eye, but appeared to have no serious injury. Roland pulled up Mark by the shoulder and stood him on his feet. His lip was bleeding and he had a cut on his cheek.
“What is this about?” Roland yelled.
“He started it,” Samuel Evens spat into the road.
“Over what?” He looked sternly at both of the boys. Mark scowled and looked away.
“Bernadette Shofield,” Evens hissed. “She’s been coming after me.”
“I saw you!” Mark lunged for the boy again.
“Woah! This stops now!” Roland bellowed.
“Sam, go home. You,” he growled into Mark’s face, “Get in the wagon, now!”
Emma held Ottland close to her and scooted towards the center of the wagon seat, but Mark climbed into the back of the wagon with the groceries and kicked the side board in frustration.
Roland checked the shoe on the mare and tied her to the back of the wagon. He glared at the boy and climbed into the seat.
When he pulled the wagon into the yard at Stavewood he walked around to the back of the vehicle.
“Stay right there!” he scolded the boy and led the horse to the stables.
“Come with me,” he spoke firmly as he returned. “I’ll be right out,” he called to Emma as he led the boy into the house.
Roland took the boy by the arm and walked him inside, held him in the den doorway and knocked on the door jamb.
Timothy looked up and frowned. “What happened?” He walked over and looked at the boy. Mark looked down at the ground, his face dark and angry.
“He was fighting with Samuel Evens in the road.”
“Fighting?” Tim looked from Roland to the boy.
“Over Bernadette Shofield.”
Timothy ran his hands through his hair. “Go wash your face,” he instructed the boy and followed Roland out the back door.
“I found them in the road. Sam’s got a fat lip and a black eye. Mark was more upset than I have ever seen him. He was even ready to take a swing at me.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Timothy scowled.
Roland nodded and climbed back in the wagon.
“Thank you.” Timothy stood next to the wagon and touched Ottland’s cheek.
“Whenever I threw down on a friend over a woman, she was never worth it,” Roland remarked.
“That’s the truth,” Timothy sighed.
“I hope he’s okay.” Emma kissed her son’s head.
“Thanks again.” Timothy walked back towards the house and Roland turned the wagon and headed towards home.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Bernadette looked at her reflection in the mirror. She tried splashing some cool water on her face and combed her hair listlessly. She just didn’t have any energy to get moving. Eventually she was dressed and she took the train to the Mill station.
“I’m going to have you work in here today.” Lillian Sullivan directed the girl into a tiny office and laid out the day’s work.
“I thought I was doing the payroll.” Bernadette looked at the books, puzzled.
“I need you to work on these today.”
Bernadette worked on the figures, but they seemed pointless and she decided that during her lunch hour she would find Mark and ask him why they had moved her out of the main accounting office.
“Mark’s not in today,” one of the men informed her.
She hurried along the road to Stavewood in an attempt to find him at home. As she reached the yard he was at the stable working on one of the horses.
“Hi!” She walked up to him and smiled.
He stood up to face her, his expression dark and angry.
“What happened to you? Your face is a mess,” she gasped.
He set down the horse’s foot and walked the mare around the yard then led her back into the stall.
Mark turned to the young woman and stood facing her.
“I had a fight with Samuel Evens.” He looked her straight in the eye.
“Sam? Why would you be fighting with Sam? You and Sam have been best friends since we were kids.” She looked at him puzzled.
“Yes, we have,” he scowled. “I was fighting with him over you, Bernadette.”
“Me?” She frowned. “Why would you be fighting over me?”
“I saw you kissing him in town yesterday.” He did not back away, but glared at her frankly.
“Oh.” she swallowed hard.
“Do you care to tell me why you would be kissing Sam Evens in the middle of the street?” he glowered.
“W-well,” she stuttered. “I was just being friendly. He told me I looked pretty in my new dress the other day and I was just thanking him. He got angry, too,” she sighed.
“He got angry because you kissed him?” His face began to turn a bright red.
“Yes,” she sighed. “I was just thanking him for being sweet and then he was just impossible. You were too busy to notice me and I thought I’d say thank you to him since he did notice.”
“Bernadette,” he spoke softly
. “I want you to leave now. I don’t want to see you again.” He turned his back to her and walked towards the house.
“What?” she called after him. “Now you’re angry too?”
She watched him walk into the house and she stood in the yard and furrowed her brow. After a few minutes he came back out of the house and saddled up the mare without looking at her at all, and rode out.
Bernadette pouted and walked back to the mill. Now both Mark and Sam were mad at her.
“At least Jude cares about me,” she said to herself as she headed back to the tiny office.
Mark stood on the porch of the Evens’ house and took a deep breath before tapping the knocker. Catherine Evens opened the door wearing a crisp white apron and furrowed her brow.
“Good morning Mrs. Evens. Is Sam at home?” He met her eyes briefly and then looked down at the floorboards.
Catherine nodded and opened the door wide to let him into the house. “He’s out back,” she pointed towards the back door.
Mark nodded and looked around the room. The last time he had been inside of the Evens’ house Mr. Evens had taken a bullet and had nearly died. He looked up the staircase, remembering the man sitting up pale and injured in bed. He remembered that Mrs. Evens had brought him a goblet of grape juice and she had been very kind to him.
He looked at her in embarrassment and let himself out the back door. He found Sam in the back shed shaving long curls of wood from a plank of lumber. Certainly Elgerson lumber, he thought. The whole shed and the house too was probably made out of Elgerson lumber. He took a deep breath and tapped on the doorway.
Samuel Evens looked up and nodded. “Mark.”
“Sam.” Mark leaned against the doorway. Sam’s face was red and he had a black eye.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” he said right out. “I was wrong. I talked to Bernadette and you were telling the truth. I’m done with her and I wanted to tell you that I was wrong.”
South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) Page 26
