“You think you had it bad as a kid, with your drunk father at you all the time and no money for anything? What’s it going to be like for a bastard child? Think about that, Bernadette. Now, you’re going to get up and go wash your face. You’re going to change into a clean dress and you are going to ride out to that damned mill and tell Timothy Elgerson just what that boy has been up to. You’re going to tell him he’s about to become a grandfather.”
Jude chuckled and walked out of the room.
Bernadette’s chest heaved hard as she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn’t imagine how she could do it. How could she tell such a monstrous lie? Would they even believe her? Mark knew the truth. His family really loved him and they would never believe her over him. Even if they were to take care of her, what would they do? They certainly wouldn’t just give her money. They would want Mark to marry her. If she were married to Mark he would be even angrier than he was now and for much longer. And what about Sam? If she married Mark she would never be able to tell Sam how she really felt about him.
She swallowed hard, trying to come up with some solution that would not make Jude angry and still fix the situation.
Maybe if she did get Mark to give her money to get rid of the baby, then she could just go away. Or, what if she just asked him for money so she could go away? She could tell him that she would never tell a soul and just leave and have her baby somewhere else. Somewhere where she could say she was a widow. Maybe Mark would even keep sending her money.
He’d never do that, she reasoned. He would never do that because he knew the truth. And, because he knew the truth, he was going to ask her whose baby it really was. What would she say then? Mark would think she had been with both Sam and Jude.
Mark would be so hurt, she thought. He would never hit her way Jude did. Jude was like her father. Neither of them ever seemed hurt by what she said or did. But Mark would be hurt. She began to feel worse.
She couldn’t tell Mark, she decided. Mr. Elgerson was big, but he was always gentle to her and very professional. He would never hurt her at the mill. She could go to his office there, tell him and leave. She would not have to face Mark at all and then she’d figure out what to do.
Jude wouldn’t just leave. He was saying that because he was angry, she thought. Once she did what he wanted and told Mr. Elgerson, he’d stay. She just knew he would.
By the time Jude returned, Bernadette had washed her face and changed into a clean dress. Choosing something simple was better, she thought. She checked her face in the mirror and decided not to put on her lipstick. It was probably best if she looked plain. Mr. Elgerson might feel sorry for her and be kind to her like he was that day he discovered she was good with numbers. She liked Mr. Elgerson she thought.
“I’m ready.” She took a deep breath.
Jude rode beside her in the carriage coaching her every inch of the journey on how she ought to behave. He told her over and over again what she should say, how she should act, and asked twice if she had a handkerchief because she ought to cry.
“Think of something sad and show lots of tears. Elgerson is probably a real sucker for a crying woman,” he said.
Bernadette thought that this was sad enough.
He climbed from the carriage at the junction to the mill road and told her he’d wait for her. Bernadette considered riding off as far as she could and never coming back. If she had had any money at all she would have considered it more seriously.
She pulled her vehicle into a space beside the mill and stepped down from the carriage carefully. She felt lightheaded and strange, like nothing around her was real. It was as if it was all some kind of a play and she was just an actor. If she remembered her lines it would all be okay. Nothing she was doing was wrong, it was all just a bad dream and she had to get through it.
Timothy Elgerson let her into his office, closed the door behind them and sat down behind his desk. He could see the girl had been crying sometime earlier. She appeared oddly composed and she sat with her spine straight and her hands folded on her lap.
“What can I do for you, Bernadette?”
She looked at him blankly for a moment and then opened her mouth, but did not speak.
She swallowed and looked down at her hands then back up to the man and he saw an expression of extreme sadness flash across her face. Then it was gone and she looked very unyielding again.
“Bernadette?”
“I have come here to tell you…” her voice trailed off. She gasped, took a very deep breath and tried again.
“I’ve come to tell you that I am expecting a baby and that Mark is the father.” She looked down to her hands in her lap and waited for his response.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Timothy Elgerson rose from his chair without saying a word and left the room.
Bernadette looked up as he was leaving and tried to decide what she ought to do. He had said nothing, not a word. He just stood up slowly, walked past her very calmly and stepped out the door.
Before the girl could decide what to do next he returned and stepped behind the desk.
Bernadette looked up at him expectantly and waited for him to say something.
“Tell him what you just told me, Bernadette.”
Bernadette turned and looked over her shoulder to see Mark Elgerson standing in the doorway. She had not seen him there, had not heard him and she gasped and choked.
“Tell him, Bernadette.” Timothy’s voice was serious and hard.
The girl began to panic and looked around the room. She could not run, Mark stood in the doorway looking at her oddly and Mr. Elgerson stood behind the desk and he was so awfully tall and he looked so angry. Bernadette had never seen him angry.
“Tell him.” Timothy spoke again, this time more firmly.
Bernadette sobbed violently and wrung her handkerchief in her hands.
“Tell me,” Mark stated calmly.
Bernadette looked up at Mark’s face. His expression was confused and his eyes full of concern. The girl could not bring herself to say it to him, not to his face like this.
“I can’t,” she screamed.
“No, Bernadette. You need to look Mark in the eye and tell him what you told me. We’ll wait here until you do,” Timothy demanded.
Mark looked at his father and then back to the girl. She looked up at him like a trapped animal.
“I don’t understand,” he muttered.
“Tell him,” Timothy bellowed and Bernadette screamed.
“Fine!” she blurted out. She looked Mark straight in the eye and set her jaw.
“I am expecting a baby and it is your child.” There. She said it, she thought.
Mark stepped back, his face contorted in complete confusion.
“Bernadette, that’s impossible.” His throat was dry and he could barely speak.
“It’s yours,” she screamed. “You know it’s yours!” She struggled to remember everything that Jude had told her to say. “You took advantage of me and now I’m going to have a baby. Your baby, no one else’s.”
“Oh! No, Bernadette!” Mark faced her angrily. “You know that that is completely impossible. If you are expecting, it is certainly no child of mine. Perhaps you need to speak to whoever has been outfitting you lately.”
Mark looked up to his father and saw the man’s face was red with anger. “This is a lie,” he told him. “It is not possible. I have never touched her in that way.”
Timothy nodded to his son solemnly.
“You can go, Bernadette. Mark will be in touch with you.”
Bernadette ran past the young man and to her carriage. Tears began to stream down her face and she whipped the horse to a fast trot. When she reached the juncture at the road Jude Thomas was not there.
“It’s not possible!” Mark pounded his fist on his father’s big desk. “Why would she say such a thing? I don’t understand!” He slumped down into the chair and put his face in his hands.
“First we need to make s
ure she is telling the truth.” Timothy Elgerson sat down and sighed.
“I’m telling you, it’s impossible, Pa. Completely and totally impossible. I never lay with her, never!” He fought to catch his breath and he began to perspire profusely.
“I believe you. You said it just recently when you were having trouble before. I meant that we need to find out if she is actually expecting. If you were the father you would have every right to hear it from a doctor.”
“I am not, but okay.” Mark tried to listen to his father’s advice.
“You may not like to hear this, but you’re going to need to talk to Sam Evens,” Timothy continued.
“Sam said she tried to kiss him and he turned her down. Because of me. She tried seducing me, too. It felt wrong, I told her no.”
“We need to find out. If she is expecting there has to be a father somewhere.”
“I understand, Pa.” Mark began to consider what it would look like, his word against the girl. He kept thinking about how her father kept saying he was after her for one thing.
“I’m sorry, Pa.” Mark hung his head. “This should not be happening.”
Timothy Elgerson knew what it was like for a young man with any money. He had never had a woman go as far as Bernadette did now, but seduction was something he had faced himself. At this moment he was thankful he could trust his son and that the girl’s accusations were a lie. It would not be easy, but he felt confident that the truth would come out. He had seen the girl’s face when she told him and especially when she was faced with telling Mark. There was no question in his mind that his son was not the father.
“We might be able to help her, if she is expecting, but only if we know the truth,” Timothy sighed.
Chapter Seventy-Three
The road was silent, but for the rushing of the river in the distance. The surrounding pine stood straight and tall directly alongside the road, the underbrush thick and green. The forest was deeply shadowed in the afternoon sunlight, and even if one strained to see, the visibility into the woodland was only a few feet.
Bernadette stepped down from the coach and searched the area where she had left Jude. He was nowhere to be found and he did not respond to her calls.
She stood in the middle of the roadway calling for him to show himself, crying piteously. But he did not show.
She rode to the Weintraub home but did not see him and then turned towards home. She knew it was only a matter of time before everyone in Billington knew her situation, including her father.
Timothy Elgerson put his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“We’re done for the day.” He pulled his hat from the stand. “I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready. Lock the door to the office.” He left the room and walked over to the nearby building to talk to Roland. When he returned Mark was standing in the yard, his hat in his hand.
The two men walked towards Stavewood in silence.
“What are you two doing home so early?” Rebecca looked up from the table where she had a bolt of fabric unrolled.
“We’re going fishing,” Timothy announced. “Get your pole, Mark.”
She looked up at the man, puzzled, and he kissed her cheek warmly. “We’ll be back before supper.”
She watched the two men cross the yard, their heads bent and she sighed. She’d seen him take the boy out a few times before when he wanted to talk to him. He was an adult, she thought. If they needed to talk it must be important.
Timothy sent his line across the water, touching his fly lightly to the surface.
Mark stood mid-stream and cast out his line. He knew that fishing was the big man’s way to work out the worries, to smooth the tension.
He listened to the line feed out, an easy, soothing sound and felt the flex of his pole. He began to recall all of the summer afternoons on the wide front lawn at Stavewood, as they drifted through his troubled mind. He remembered casting his line into a hat placed thirty feet out on the spring lawn, trying to get closer and closer. He recalled his father’s deep easy voice. “Cast the line,” he had said, “not the hook. Watch your angle. Feel the timing. It’s not about strength.”
Timothy watched the tension ease from his boy’s shoulders, saw his stance relax and his head tilt easily. He knew that, however hard a thing might be to figure out, it always went easier after fishing.
He felt himself relax as well. His son was in for a long, hard time. He needed to be calm himself. If they could stay in control of their emotions they could make intelligent choices, important choices that could affect all of their days and probably the rest of Mark’s life.
He watched the young man raise the rod tip expertly, setting the hook and pulling in a pretty rainbow trout. He guessed it to be about eight pounds, and he smiled proudly. He knew his son was a good kid, a good man. He’d do everything in his power to pull him through.
They gathered their catch, a nice bundle of fresh fish and walked back slowly.
“We’ll take a ride out to the Evens’ place after supper. I haven’t seen Nils and Catherine in a while. Talk to Sam, just ask him and then you’ll know.”
“He’ll want to know why I’m asking.”
“Then tell him. He’d likely rather hear it straight from you anyway. We have to face the fact that everyone will know before too long. We might as well start close.”
“I’ll talk to Rebecca before dinner. Do you want to be there, or would you rather not?”
“I’ll be there,” Mark sighed.
“We need to find out first if she is actually expecting. You will need to see her doctor with her. If she wants to follow through with this she’s going to have to prove it’s true. Rebecca can go with you. In fact, that might be a very good idea.
“Then we need to find the father. I’ll ask around the mill, around town. Someone saw them together. She may never admit it, but at least you’ll know who it is.
“If she is indeed expecting there is more to deal with than just proving that she’s lying. There’s a baby involved. Now, maybe we can get the father to take responsibility and maybe we can’t. If we can prove she’s been seeing another man it might save you from a shotgun wedding. You do not want to marry her if this is not your child. Stay calm, be smart and we’ll get through this.”
“I was doing okay right up to the point where you said ‘shotgun’.”
Timothy Elgerson grabbed his son’s shoulder and the two men entered the kitchen at Stavewood.
Rebecca sighed deeply as the men explained the situation and she crossed the room and took Mark into her arms.
“Timothy will help you make this right.”
“I know he will, Mom.”
Rebecca looked up at the young man and her eyes filled with tears. He had never once called her any form of ‘mother’. She certainly had not minded at all. She thought of him as a friend first, and then a son. He had mourned so terribly for his mother that she never expected it.
She reached up and kissed his cheek fondly and smiled.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Catherine Evens opened the front door and smiled.
“Why it’s those handsome Elgersons! Do come in!”
She led them into the comfortable home. On the table was a stack of fresh baked cookies and Nils was seated in a large chair, the newspaper on his knee.
“Good evening, Tim, Mark.” He shook both men’s hands.
Mark sighed nervously. “Is Sam around?”
“Sure, sure. He’s out back.”
Mark nodded and let himself out the back door.
“Everything alright, Tim?” Nils indicated that Tim sit down on the settee.
“I’ll get coffee,” Catherine volunteered.
“Sit down for a minute,” Timothy asked.
“I don’t know the girl all that well. How about you, Catherine?” Nils asked.
“I see her taking her father to the saloon sometimes,” Catherine remarked, “But no, I can’t think of anyone she’s been seeing. I’ll ask around. Bern
adette and her father live nearby. We’ll help in any way we can.”
“I know the trouble Mark had with Sam was over that girl. You think they’re okay out there?” Nils looked towards the back door nervously.
“They’re fine,” Timothy assured.
“Hey, Mark.” Samuel looked up from his building project.
“Hi.” Mark took a deep breath. “What are you building?”
“Bird house.” He reached under his work bench and pulled out a miniature house. It was a perfect imitation of his home, down to the smallest detail, including the shingled roof.
“Wow, that’s really nice.” Mark took the tiny building and inspected it with genuine interest. “Do you make them to sell?”
“I was thinking about custom making them, yeah.”
“Could you do one of Stavewood? Maybe the Vancouver house, too? I know a couple of ladies that would sure enjoy something like that. Maybe for Christmas?”
“Sure!” Samuel’s face lit up. “Stavewood, big job,” he scratched his head.
“Let me know what you need and I’ll pay you up front.”
“I wish I was just here to admire your birdhouses,” Mark sighed and pulled up a tall stool.
South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) Page 29
