Twice Loved

by Wendy Lindstrom

  Radford laughed at Kyle’s lack of preamble. “Looking for a job. You hiring?”

  There was no response at Kyle’s end except the quieting of equipment and whistling sound of steam escaping in an endless, drawn-out sigh. Finally, Kyle walked toward them from the shadowed depths of the building. Joyful anticipation expanded Radford’s chest. It had been so long. So many wasted years.

  When Kyle stepped into the waning sunlight, Radford eyed him with pride. His brother had become a giant of a man. Wider in build than Radford, though an inch or two shorter, Kyle still easily topped six feet. Radford couldn’t begin to imagine the changes he would find in Duke and Boyd.

  Kyle extended his hand. “You’re early.”

  Radford experienced a moment of confusion before it dawned on him that Kyle wasn’t going to welcome him home with the backslapping hug he’d expected. Mile after mile of the trip from Boston, Radford had staved off anxiety with visions of a joyful, rollicking reunion with his brothers.

  Kyle was offering a handshake.

  Hope began slipping away like steam from the cooling boiler, but Radford took Kyle’s broad hand in his and gave it a hard shake. What could he expect after being absent since the war? Though he’d come home occasionally during the last five years, he’d never stayed more than a few weeks before his shame drove him away again. It wouldn’t this time, he vowed silently.

  Radford glanced at the mill building. “You’ve made changes while I’ve been away.”

  “We expanded the building and bought a new mill so we could keep up with Tom Drake. You remember Tom?”

  “Of course. Our toughest competitor with the pretty daughter.”

  Kyle nodded, but turned his attention to Rebecca who was peeking at him. A grin climbed his cheek as he studied her. “She resembles her uncle Boyd, but you’d better hope she doesn’t grow up to be as wild as he is.”

  Radford glanced at Rebecca and knew that wildness would be a welcome change from her frightening withdrawal.

  “Come on,” Kyle said, gesturing for Radford to follow him. “I’ll show you the mill.” They entered the building and stopped by the saw where Kyle proudly laid his hand on the heavy iron husk. “This girl has doubled our output. These dual saws chew through twenty thousand feet of timber a day. The smaller saw speeds up our cutting time and allows us to use thinner blades, which means less kerf and sawdust waste.”

  Radford remembered his father’s crude mill. The thought of running the new, powerful machine made his hands itch. A wide leather drive belt wove through a series of pulley wheels and up over a mandrel shaft that was powered by a stationary engine and boiler. A sawdust elevator had also been attached to the mandrel shaft to carry the waste outside where three huge piles spilled across the ground.

  “Are you still selling the sawdust?”

  “Of course,” Kyle said as if it was a dumb question.

  Radford laughed then scanned the interior of the building. “Why are those logs wet?” he asked, balancing Rebecca on one arm to point at a nearby stack of logs.

  “We rinsed them. It saves the blades from eating dirt so we spend less time sharpening them.”

  No wonder they had grown so much, Radford thought with pride. Fighting the sudden urge to fire up the saws, wrap his hands around the metal levers, and finish slabbing the white pine waiting on the carriage table, Radford throttled back his excitement. Tomorrow, he would do it. He’d stand beside the huge blades and feel the vibrations shimmy his legs. He’d look over and see his brothers and pretend he heard his father’s voice shouting orders in the yard. Then he could silence the other voices and everything would be all right again.

  “Let’s go out through the office so I can lock up,” Kyle said, waving Radford and Rebecca into a room with a thick maple table in the center. The walls were buried behind metal hand files, saw blades, log hooks, and shaving knives. “It’s not pretty,” Kyle said, stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind them, “but we’re doing a good business. Since I was left in charge, I did what I thought best.”

  The meaning behind Kyle’s words didn’t elude Radford. He knew he hadn’t been there for his younger brothers when they needed him to run the mill after their father died. The best he’d been able to do was send money home to keep them going. More than anything, Radford had wanted to resume his normal life after the war, but he couldn’t suppress the nightmares or his violent physical reactions caused by them. His lack of control had shamed him so deeply that he moved to Boston to escape the sympathy in his brothers’ eyes. Unfortunately, his leaving had forced Kyle to run the mill instead of pursuing the law degree he’d wanted, and though Kyle had never said anything, Radford could still sense his brother’s resentment.

  “You’ve done a great job, Kyle. I wouldn’t have changed a thing,” Radford said with sincerity. He glanced at Rebecca, who had suddenly perked up at the sound of Evelyn’s wagon rattling across the yard.

  When she pulled up, Kyle propped his elbow on the side rail. “I guess your father wasn’t up to the ride tonight. I thought he was feeling better.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “He thinks he is, but he was too tired to even climb the stairs. He’s napping on the sofa.”

  Radford’s chest constricted with fear. “What’s wrong with William?” he asked, praying it was only a cold or sore back, but knowing from their shared experience in battle that it would take more than that to keep William Tucker down.

  “He’s had seizures,” Kyle said.

  Radford met Evelyn’s worried gaze as she filled him in. “He had his first one six months ago. The second one happened three months later. He got his strength back after his first attack of apoplexy, but the last time drained him. He can talk now, but he still needs a cane to walk.”

  Radford’s gut tightened with the instinctive need to protect William, the man who’d been like a father, his friend, his mentor since he was a boy. They had survived a war and too many years of hell together for William to be laid low by some inexplicable seizure.

  “Has he seen a doctor? A good one?”

  “Both times,” Kyle said. “And he’s been told he won’t be able to work the livery anymore. Evelyn has been running it for him for the last six months, but it’s not doing so well.” He glanced at Evelyn. “It’s not her fault. She manages fine and works hard, but it’s too much for her.” Evelyn straightened on her seat and opened her mouth, but Kyle held up his hand. “It is, Ev. You’re killing yourself.” Ignoring her scowl, he turned to Radford. “Naturally William will be passing the livery to Evelyn and me when we marry, and I’d like you to run it for me— if you’re staying, of course.”

  “What?” Radford and Evelyn asked in shocked unison, their glances clashing before flying back to Kyle.

  “I have all the men I need at the mill. William can’t work, and despite what Evelyn says, she can’t run the livery alone,” he said, glancing at Evelyn but directing his statement to Radford.

  Radford couldn’t have been more shocked or offended had Kyle struck Rebecca. Radford owned a fourth of their mill. Was Kyle worried that Radford had come home to reclaim his position as eldest? Was that why he was trying to keep him out of the mill? All Radford wanted was to work with his brothers. He just wanted to be a part of their life and to have them in his.

  “I had planned to have one of my men help in the livery, but I’d feel better knowing you’re there. I need someone I can trust, Radford. I’m too busy building Evelyn a house and running the mill to supervise the livery.”

  Radford’s heart contracted so hard, he felt the brutal wrench clear to the pit of his stomach. His arms weakened and he lowered Rebecca to the ground, standing her at his side before he dropped her. Kyle didn’t want him here. It was in his eyes. He was welcoming Radford home, but not back to the mill.

  “William needs help,” Kyle continued, pecking away at Radford’s conscience, seemingly oblivious to the dreams that were shattering within him. Panic welled up inside Radford, but he forced
it down. Maybe he had expected too much. Maybe Kyle needed time to adjust, to realize that he only wanted to be a part of the family again.

  Evelyn shot a panicked look at Radford then turned to Kyle. “I can manage alone for a while longer if you can’t spare one of your crew right now.”

  “No you can’t, Ev. I’d rather you didn’t work at all, but until we’re married, I can’t change that or make any decisions about the livery without your father’s consent. It’ll be a relief knowing Radford is there taking care of things,” Kyle said, as if the issue had been decided. He held up his hand to stop her argument. “We can talk about this later. Your father is set on having Radford run the livery. He’s even extended an invitation for Radford and Rebecca to stay with you, which should make it more convenient for everyone.”

  Evelyn’s face blanched and Radford thought his knees were going to fail him. Everything he believed he’d come home to had turned to ashes. Kyle had made it clear that he wasn’t welcome at the mill. And if Evelyn’s offended expression was any indication, he wasn’t welcome in her livery, either.

  In the midst of this realization, Radford reached down and captured his daughter’s hand, reminding himself of the single most important reason he’d come home. Rebecca. He would sacrifice or endure anything for his daughter.

  “Why hasn’t Papa said anything to me about this?” Evelyn asked.

  “The subject came up last night during our euchre game while you were asleep. Your father and my mother got into a heck of a row over where Radford and Rebecca would be staying. They both wanted them. Ma said her son belonged at home. William claimed he’ll be lost in an empty house when you marry me and move out.” Kyle grinned. “If you hadn’t gone up to bed you could have watched the show. It was the first time I saw my mother lose an argument.” Kyle turned back to Radford. “William needs your help, Radford. He’s hoping you’ll lend a hand.”

  Radford glanced at Evelyn who kept her eyes downcast, and he knew she didn’t like the situation any better than he did.

  “Will you do it?” Kyle clapped a hand on Radford’s shoulder in the first truly warm gesture he’d shown him since arriving. But it had come too late.

  Several uncomfortable seconds passed while Radford struggled to mask his painful disappointment and inexplicable sadness. Consumed by a fierce longing to restore himself to his family, he knew he couldn’t force Kyle to accept him. This time he’d have to earn his place. And it was time he repaid William for saving his life at Gettysburg. Tightening his hold on Rebecca’s hand, Radford unclenched his aching jaw. “I’ll do it,” he said hoarsely.

  Evelyn couldn’t stifle her gasp. She didn’t want Radford in her livery! She needed a place where she could be herself. Her horses didn’t care that she wore britches and couldn’t dance. They didn’t know she couldn’t dress her hair or flirt or stitch a straight seam. She could talk to the horses about remedies for colic, the price of oats and linseed oil, and how to repair a harness. Outside the livery, Evelyn was a misfit. She was unable to connect with anyone, male or female. Even with Kyle, it was difficult to communicate. She couldn’t imagine how awkward she would feel in Radford’s presence.

  “What’s wrong, Ev?” Kyle asked.

  She only shrugged. Kyle had changed so much in the past few years that she wouldn’t know how to share her concerns with him even if she dared to. It was Radford’s fault. If he had stayed after the war and done his duty as eldest son, Kyle wouldn’t have been forced to become the ambitious businessman she barely knew anymore. During the past five years, he’d grown so focused on the mill it seemed he no longer even noticed her. She sighed and picked at her chipped fingernail. Maybe their marriage would resurrect the closeness and friendship they had once shared. Maybe then Kyle would notice that she’d become a woman, albeit a lonely one uncomfortable in her own skin, but still a woman.

  The old Kyle would have noticed the difference. He’d always understood her. Even when they were children, Kyle was the only person she could depend on, who could comfort her. It was Kyle’s shoulder she had cried on when her mother died laboring to have a son who didn’t survive the grueling birth. All her life, Kyle had been a steadfast, dependable friend.

  But she wanted more than friendship. She wanted love.

  Kyle wiped his neck with a handkerchief then blew out a tired breath. “This is the only way I can help with the livery right now, Ev.”

  “I understand,” she said. When he wasn’t working at the mill, he was working on their house. He didn’t have time to help her shovel horse dung. She accepted the fact that she needed a man in her livery to appease society’s narrow-minded sense of propriety, and to help her with the daily labor that physically drained her. She’d expected a man from Kyle’s crew, but it looked as if it would be Radford.

  She laced her fingers and squeezed her hands between her knees, wondering how she would ever keep her eyes on her work with Radford in her livery.

  Chapter Two

  “I thought you were a railroad man for life,” Kyle said to Radford as he hopped onto the back of Evelyn’s wagon.

  Radford lifted Rebecca onto his lap to make room for Kyle then braced an arm against the plank rail as Evelyn drove out of the sawmill. There was nothing to like about railroad life except the money. “Rebecca needs a more settled life than I could give her working for the railroad.”

  “Well, this is about as settled as you can get,” Kyle said, his gesture encompassing the sawmill, the tannery, and the grist mill as they traveled down Liberty Street toward Fredonia.

  The dip and sway of the wagon set their feet swinging and Radford was struck by the memory of four grubby little boys sitting shoulder to shoulder on the back of their father’s lumber wagon, sharing a jar of cold water and seeing who could spit the farthest after a long, dry day at the mill. A breeze rustled through the surrounding trees, carrying the fresh, green scent of summer. Radford closed his eyes, listening to the occasional burble of Canadaway Creek, the jingle and clop of Evelyn’s sturdy Morgan as it pulled her wagon toward home. There was an essence of peace here that he longed to feel within himself.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” Kyle said, “and tell me exactly where we are.”

  Despite his melancholy, Radford smiled as he recalled the game they used to play each night on their way home from the mill. When he felt the slight leftward shift of his body, his grin widened. “We’re passing the fat oak tree that sits on the inside curve of the road next to Tom and Martha Fisk’s place. The one Boyd fell out of the night he spied their daughter Catherine undressing for bed.”

  Kyle’s chuckle told Radford he’d guessed correctly. Radford opened his eyes. The tree was still there, minus the branch Boyd had broken in his fall. The Fisks’ house was freshly whitewashed, yet appeared smaller than Radford remembered. Maybe it was Tom and Martha’s eight kids that had made it seem so large, but Radford had always thought it dwarfed their own small home a short distance down the street. Now it didn’t look any larger than William Tucker’s two-story house that sat beyond his mother’s home on the far side of a vast apple orchard.

  The wagon slowed, turned, and rolled to a halt in his mother’s driveway. The magnolia trees his father had planted in the side yard were bigger, the bushes thicker, the house older, but it was still home. Had he been alone, he would have sat quietly, reacquainting himself with the sound of evening crickets, the smell of cut grass, the sharp rap of someone’s hammer echoing across the orchard. He would have walked out back in search of that blackened spot of grass where he and his brothers had built their summer fires. He would have slipped inside the barn to see if his father’s old stallion still remembered him.

  Instead, he dragged his gaze away from the barn and carried Rebecca to the house. Why dredge up memories from a life he could never recapture? All that mattered now was Rebecca’s happiness.

  Kyle waved them inside and Radford glanced at Evelyn as he stepped around her in the foyer. Though she hadn’t spoken another word abou
t the livery, her expression told him there was plenty she was holding back.

  “Someone’s here to see you, Ma,” Kyle hollered then grinned at Radford.

  Drying her hands on her apron, his mother hurried into the foyer. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a bun just the way Radford remembered and he smiled when he saw her. All his life his mother was rushing through chores and it was comforting to see she hadn’t lost that vitality.

  When she spotted Radford, she gasped, “You’re home!” Tears filled her eyes and she ran forward to hug him. “You’re really home.”

  Radford pulled her against him with his free arm and she wept as though he’d returned from the dead, which in Radford’s opinion wasn’t far from the truth. He hadn’t seen his mother since his father’s funeral. Rebecca had never seen her.

  His mother sniffed and lifted her head, gazing at Rebecca with eyes full of love and wonder. “What a sweet, sweet baby.” She smoothed her hand down Rebecca’s arm and across her back as if she needed to touch her granddaughter to believe she was real.

  Rebecca whimpered and burrowed in her blanket.

  Radford caught Evelyn’s worried frown. It was obvious she thought he would step away from his mother’s loving inspection, but Radford didn’t move or warn her away. This was the one person he wanted Rebecca to trust, the one who would always love her, who would give Rebecca the maternal love he was incapable of providing.

  His mother would never abandon Rebecca like Olivia had. Or abuse her like Gertrude had done.

  The sound of heavy feet in a distant room drew their attention. “Duke! Boyd! Come see who’s here,” his mother called, her face bright with excitement.

  Duke’s warrior-like frame rounded the corner first, and it was apparent that he’d been roused from his evening nap. His hair was pushed up on one side and his flannel shirt gaped open, exposing a thick-muscled chest full of hair, and a silver deputy’s badge that dangled from his shirt pocket.