He waved to the boy and continued his trip across the field.
Emma Vancouver watched Roland crossing the field towards her. She carried Ottland on her hip and a basket in her other hand, walking to meet the man partway from the mill. The tall grass rippled in the gentle breeze and birds darted across the sky swiftly. The child noticed a butterfly and pointed a chubby finger, indicating its jagged flight.
Roland watched her walk with a gentle grace, the curve of her hip as she balanced the child, the way her golden hair blew out behind her, her calm demeanor as he watched her steps crossing the field.
He stood still, in the bright sunlight, silhouetted against the vivid blue sky. He wanted to capture the moment, keep it always in his mind. Carry it with him all the years of his life. He wanted to remember her this way for years to come. Remember her young and beautiful, lithe and slender. See her this way when time had begun to change their faces, to age their bodies, when his son was a grown man.
She looked up to him and smiled and quickened her pace and his heart swelled with love for her.
Emma saw him standing there, a calm serious look upon his face, and she smiled. He looked so handsome to her, so familiar, so comfortable. Wherever she was in the world he would always be home to her. When she reached him he kissed the child and lifted him, easing her burden and then kissed her cheek.
She looked up at him and whispered, “Roland.”
Emma spread the cloth out beneath the stand of trees. They could see Mark riding the filly inside of the corral, fast and then slow and then fast again. Roland lay back on the cloth and looked out over the field while Emma laid out lunch for him and the child and he knew he was a lucky man.
Mark slid from the horse’s back and rubbed her mane affectionately. He saw the family beneath the stand of trees and watched them enjoying their lunch together.
He had begun to feel that he wanted a family of his own more than anything in the world.
He wanted a woman beside him that knew his mind, understood his moods, wanted his kisses and wanted them because of love. He wanted to bounce a child on his knee that was his own, to face the challenges of being a father, of being a husband. He began to wonder if she wasn’t under his nose right here. She might be waiting for him somewhere else. But where?
Strawberry put her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her neck and then led her quietly back to the stables. He frowned at the possibility that to find the right woman he might have to one day leave Stavewood. He didn’t even want to think how he felt about that.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Bernadette Shofield stood on the porch at Stavewood in the fading light of the warm spring day. She could see the family gathered in the parlor through the lace curtains in the window.
She saw Timothy Elgerson on the floor with his daughter and little Phillip, reading a book intently and making frightful faces that had both children giggling. Rebecca had her knitting on her lap and was patiently and rhythmically throwing her yarn across her needle, stitches sliding onto her needles from right to left. Mark sat in the chair in the corner, feet crossed at the ankles and eyes closed. She recognized the pose. Whenever he was worried over something he would sit that way with his fingers laced and his hands in his lap.
She took a deep breath and tapped the knocker softly. Rebecca opened the door and greeted her quietly.
“Hello, Mrs. Elgerson.” She held her breath. “Could I please speak to Mark?”
Rebecca looked at the girl for a moment and asked her to wait in the foyer.
“Mark,” Rebecca leaned close to him. “Bernadette is in the foyer. She would like to speak to you.”
The young man opened his eyes, looked at the woman and scowled.
“Should I tell her to leave?”
“No,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to her.” It was not Rebecca’s responsibility to resolve his problems, he thought.
He walked out to the foyer, nodded to the girl and opened the front door, directing her outside.
He grabbed onto the porch railing with both hands and looked out across the lawns.
“Go ahead,” he said quietly.
“Oh, Mark. Don’t be that way. Let me explain, please.”
“Are you going to try and tell me again that I don’t notice you and Sam Evens does?” He turned to her and folded his arms across his chest.
“That came out all wrong,” she tried to keep her voice from becoming shrill.
“That just about covers things between you and me, Bernadette,” he addressed her. “All wrong.”
“I don’t think so,” she cleared her throat. “I love you.”
“Really?” he chuckled sarcastically. “Is that what you think?”
“Well, I do,” she said. “I think about you practically all the time and I don’t like it when you’re not happy or you work too hard. I am always trying to get you to notice me because I want you to think I’m pretty and that you want me.”
“And you think that those things mean you’re in love with me.”
“Well, yes,” she responded. “I am.”
“No, Bernadette. You’re not in love with me any more than I am with you. We became friends, that’s all. You and I had something in common, I thought. We were both ashamed of our families, but I realized that I don’t really feel that way. I am proud of my family. I’m so proud of them, in fact, I was afraid I couldn’t measure up to what it meant for me to be a part of it. But I’m not in love with you. I don’t think I ever was.
“I liked you once. I liked that, in spite of coming from a simple life, you were always yourself. You were kind and genuine. Now I don’t know who you are.” He looked at her in her bright lipstick and tight fitting dress. “I do have to ask you one thing.”
“What?” she asked softly.
“Every time I see you, you are wearing another new dress, each one more outrageous than the last. I’m sure they aren’t coming out of your paycheck. So, I have to ask, whose wallet are they coming out of?”
“Well,” she sighed.
“Never mind, Bernadette. I think I probably don’t want to know.” He dropped his hands to his sides, exasperated.
“Be careful,” he looked away. “You’re liable to get yourself in a bad situation the next time you take a man’s hand and put it on your breast like that.”
Tears began to well up in her eyes and she looked at him with a tortured expression. She didn’t know if she should slap his face or thank him. She opened her mouth to try to explain, but she knew that if she even mentioned Jude’s name, especially right now, it would not go well.
“Bernadette,” he turned to her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what’s going on with you, or with you and Sam. I don’t know. I know that you and I don’t belong together, that I do know. Maybe you should go see Sam. You can do that and I wouldn’t hold it against either of you. In fact, I wish you all the happiness in the world, but you and I are done.”
“I could change,” she pleaded. The thought of Jude hearing that she had not resolved things with Mark began to terrify her.
“Change?” He looked at her in confusion. “What is it you want, Bernadette?”
“If you could just try again. Just try to love me for a while. Maybe everything will change.”
He watched her face as she avoided looking him in the eye and wrung her hands nervously. He could make no sense of her suggestion.
“Why, Bernadette? Why should either of us try to be in love when we clearly are not? Do you think we can pretend and it will just happen? I’m certainly no expert, but I don’t think it works that way.”
“Well,” she decided to try another approach. “What if we were friends like before? Like before I put…” she cleared her throat. “We can just spend time together like before and then see what happens. We don’t have to be in love if you don’t want to, we can just be like we were before.” Maybe if Jude were to just see them together he would be satisfied.
“Bernadette, don’t you see? Every time I see you I am so angry I have to calm myself down. Don’t you understand that I pulled Sam out into the road and beat him with my fists over you? You’re standing here, out after dark, alone, with tears running down your face trying to convince me we should try to be in love. This is madness.” He stood up straight.
“I just thought… I mean I don’t want you to be angry anymore and if we were just friends again everything would be fine.” She couldn’t come up with any reason he should continue to see her and her hands began to shake.
“Bernadette,” he took both of her hands. “Go home, please. Just let it go. It’s over, just let it be.”
“But you don’t understand,” she burst into tears and he pulled her close to him to calm her shaking.
Jude Thomas stepped back into the woods and smiled.
“Good girl,” he told her as he jumped into the carriage beside her and she pulled away from Stavewood. “I knew you could do it.”
Bernadette smiled nervously. Maybe if she tried to talk to Sam like Mark suggested, maybe he would understand.
Chapter Seventy
Timothy Elgerson looked at the first quarter profits in his completed ledger and blew out his breath. The number was staggering, and he was certain that Benjamin Neilson was going to be equally pleased when he heard the amount. He expected him to arrive the following morning and had already arranged for the best room at the hotel for the man.
Their business venture in full swing, Timothy was certain that he now had the mill running well enough that he could consider retiring a bit. He had put in long and exhausting hours for nearly a year, as had Roland and Mark. Now their holdings were substantial, and would continue to be such as long as the mill continued to operate efficiently. He would call both of the men together, he thought, over dinner and let them see what his ledgers had just shown him.
Neilson was coming into town to check the number himself, but on the next quarter it would be Timothy’s turn to travel south again.
He didn’t care much for traveling. The big man liked being at home. He enjoyed seeing his wife’s face beside him every morning when he slipped from the big bed. He loved the way she would curl into a tiny ball as soon as his warmth left her side. He’d tuck the blanket around her and she would smile so sweetly in her sleep.
He liked that at any time during the day he could steal away and take a quick walk back to the house and see his children frolicking in the yard. Sometimes he never even said a word and just headed back to the mill. He relished his evenings, all together in the parlor, each sharing stories of their day.
Before the next quarterly meeting Timothy considered that he would hire a courier, an employee he could count on to travel to Missouri so he could stay close to home. He decided he would discuss it with Benjamin Neilson. He might not care to travel either, Timothy thought.
Emma and Rebecca fussed over Louisa, as she stood on the heavy hassock in the sewing room on the second floor of Stavewood. Rebecca pinned the hem of her daughter’s dress while Emma snipped out tiny threads from another frock.
“Why do you have to do this, Mama?” The child fussed.
“Because you are growing so quickly,” Rebecca scooted a bit more to one side and pushed in another pin.
“Why can’t you just buy me a new dress?” Louisa pouted.
“Because this one is perfectly fine, it only needs to be let down a bit. Hold still or it will take even longer.”
When the woman finished with her pinning she slipped the dress carefully from the child and her curls bounced onto her shoulders.
“Arms up,” Rebecca instructed and she slid on the next dress. “Last one!” she announced brightly.
Louisa scowled and folded her arms.
“Wow!” Roland sat back in his chair in shock.
Timothy slid the ledger across the table to his son who picked up the book and examined the numbers.
The young man set the book down and looked at both men in turn.
“These are the actual numbers?” His face was wrinkled in surprise.
“They are.” Timothy smiled and leaned back in his chair.
“‘Wow’ is right,” Mark checked the numbers again.
“I couldn’t have done it all alone. Both of you have been living this, putting in the hours for over a year now, but it has certainly paid off. With a little more organization we should be able to maintain this level of profit and get back to a regular schedule.
“Emma would sure be glad to hear that,” Roland said. “She hasn’t said a word, but I know she’s been shouldering all the responsibilities at the house alone.”
Timothy had to agree. “Rebecca hasn’t said anything either, I’ve been trying to get in lunches when I can. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear it.”
Mark thought about how Bernadette had complained he was too busy to notice her and once again thought she was not the right girl for him. He pushed thoughts of her aside and tried to consider what his father was telling them.
Timothy faced his friend and shook his hand. “Roland, you’re the best foreman I have ever had. I don’t know if I have to say it, but when I gave you the meadow land I never expected you to work at the mills forever. I still want you at the mill, and you know that, but if you want to leave, you have my blessing to do so.”
“Thank you, Tim,” Roland smiled. “But, I like what I do. I don’t want to do it seven days a week forever, but I’ll stick around.”
Elgerson nodded in appreciation.
Timothy faced his son and offered his hand to him as well. Mark took the big man’s hand. He couldn’t recall him shaking his hand since he was a kid, when Timothy had first shown him how to shake hands like a man.
“You’ve been working hard. I’ve seen it. I know you’ve had some issues going on. I want you to know that I appreciate it. You’ve done a good job and I recognize that. And I’m pretty proud to boot.”
The young man watched Timothy and Roland head for the parlor and then walked out onto the front porch. He looked out across the lawns and thought about his life over the past year. He felt like he was just a kid when his father took him on their business venture. It was only a year ago, but he wasn’t the same person. He didn’t feel much like a kid anymore.
Things at the mills would calm down a bit now and Mark felt as if it were time for a change. There would be another dance in the fall and he considered that he might meet someone there. Maybe he’d get a few dance pointers from Roland. He smiled to himself and joined the family inside.
Chapter Seventy-One
Bernadette Shofield closed the office door behind her and stepped outside. The bright daylight assaulted her momentarily and she swallowed and held onto the door jamb. She strained her eyes and looked up and down the street making sure no one saw her and she hurried out onto the walkway and tried to act as if she were window shopping. She looked behind her and saw Samuel Evens watching her from across the street, his hands folded across his chest.
She rushed up the avenue, terrified he had seen her exiting the physician’s office. Until she spoke to Jude she wanted no one to know about her situation.
Jude Thomas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “This could be even better,” he said aloud.
“Better?” she choked. “Jude I don’t understand what you are saying. Don’t you appreciate what’s happening? The doctor said I am going to have a baby. Your baby!”
“I understand perfectly,” he glared into her face. “But you are wrong about one thing. This is Elgerson’s baby. You’re going to head right over there, right in the middle of their damn mill and you are going to announce it to the world!”
She fell back onto the bed and gasped. “What?” Her hand flew to her face and the color drained from her face.
“You heard me,” he hissed. “That brat is not mine. That kid is Mark Elgerson’s and you are never to tell anyone anything different.”
“Oh, Jude. No!” She shook her head violently. “It’s not
even possible. I never was with him that way.”
“What?” He spun to face her, infuriated.
“I was only ever with you. Mark never touched me, not like that.”
The back of his hand stung hard as it met her cheek.
He paced the room, agitated, and then spun to face her suddenly. “It doesn’t matter. You tell them he’s lying. That he doesn’t want to admit it because you’re just trash. You tell them that he threw you away when he found out.” He rubbed his hand across his face and cleared his throat.
“No, don’t tell the whole mill. You go right to his father. You tell him alone first. Tell him his son forced you and now is trying to get rid of you and the baby. Yes, tell him the boy offered you money to see a doctor to get rid of it, but it’s Mark’s. And it’s his grandchild. Do this and you’ll never want for another thing as long as you live.”
Bernadette began to pant heavily and she felt the room closing in around her. “I can’t,” she murmured.
“You can and you will!” Jude threatened.
“But, you said if I did what you wanted that you would take care of me,” she cried.
“You just don’t get it do you? You have got to be the stupidest woman I have ever had. This was never about you!”
The girl sobbed uncontrollably. Her hands began to shake and she crawled up into the corner of the bed. “I can’t,” she whispered again.
“You will, Bernadette. You will because if you don’t things will get very bad for you. You wouldn’t want something to happen to your father one night when he’s had a few too many, would you? And what about your kid? Imagine what kind of life that baby will have with no father around, because I guarantee you, you will not see me again after this. I got the information I want anyway without you. But, this is just too perfect. If you don’t tell the Elgersons that this is their grandchild you’re carrying, your life will be completely worthless.
South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) Page 28
