Sweetwater (Birdsong Series)

by Addy, Alice

  He grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, ma’am.” Blake cleared his throat. “You heard right. I had my lawyer give my farm to the prettiest woman in Hays City. You might even be acquainted with her,” he chuckled. “Miss Emily Falkenrath is the new owner of my old farm. It’s small, but it’s all yours, honey.”

  Emily flew into Blake’s arms. “Oh! I never thought! You just gave me your farm? I love you so much, Blake. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you accepted my proposal before I told you about the farm, otherwise I’d be worried that you were marrying me for my barn,” he laughed.

  “You’re silly, Doc. When can we go see it? I can go anytime. When? When?”

  Blake grinned. Watching Emily get this excited was like discovering a small window into her childhood. What a beautiful child she must have been. If he had been in her life when she was small, he would have taken great delight in spoiling her, just to see this glow of happiness on her pretty face. She had had so little joy in her life and so much sadness, but he swore to change all that and do whatever was in his power to make her happy.

  “I have to stay close to town until Marla Schneider delivers her babe, but we can go the next day. Is that good for you?”

  Emily kissed him all over, again, dancing up on her toes. “That’s perfect, Doc. You’ve made me so unbelievably happy. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  Blake kissed her luscious lips and succeeded in taking her breath away, nearly causing her to swoon.

  “Seriously, Doc, did I ever tell you I love you?”

  Blake laughed. “Can’t say as if I recall you saying anything of the sort. So, to get the record straight . . . do you love me, Emmie?”

  “You know I do,” she said softly.

  “That’s good to hear, angel. Now I think it’s time I took you upstairs and put you to bed, young lady. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  *

  “I can’t find him anywhere!” Cassie cried. “I’ve looked under all the beds, in the closets, and . . .”

  Suddenly, a man’s voice yelled angrily from an upstairs room. Quickly, the hotel staff ran up to see the cause of their guest’s distress, whereupon, they all stopped dead in their tracks and observed Mr. Bingham through the open door. There, they discovered the cause of his surprise and obvious anger. It was Cassie’s newest crisis. The large man was holding the tiny black puppy by the scruff of his delicate little neck, and was shaking him, unmercifully. The white tip, on the end of his tail, was pulled up between his legs in a defensive posture, while the terrified pup yelped and whined for rescue.

  “Oh, you’ve found Tippy. Thank you, Mr. Bingham,” Cassie wailed, as she rushed to rescue the dog from the angry Englishman.

  “I say, miss! This small varmint was hiding in my boot. When I put in my foot, I’m most fortunate that he did not take off my toe. He’s a nuisance, young lady, and I believe he should be confined to a small box or put out of his misery.” Unfortunately, the pup chose just that moment to empty his bladder—all down Mr. Bingham’s left trouser leg. The cursing that followed was not fit for feminine ears.

  Whiskey felt it was his duty to rescue the ladies. “Now see here, mister. You are in the presence of ladies and I’d appreciate it if you watched your language.”

  Cassie caught the naughty puppy as the irate man let it drop to the floor.

  “It pissed on me! I have never been so insulted. I will NOT pay for these miserable lodgings, and you may rest assured, I will register a complaint and tell everyone I know that they need to avoid this hotel at all costs.”

  “Well, you miserable skunk! If you’d not been a yellin’ like a wild man, maybe the pup wouldn’t have been so damned scared and he wouldn’t have relieved himself on ya’. ‘Course, maybe he just don’t cotton to your kind. You can leave whenever you want and keep your dirty money. Your stay’s on us,” growled Whiskey. “Lucky he didn’t do worse than piss on ya’,” the old man said under his breath, as he stomped off.

  Cassie looked at the red-faced man and stuck out her tongue. It was the only thing she could think to do that wouldn’t involve physically striking the man. She would have liked that too, but it would have caused problems for the others.

  “Tippy, you’ve been a very naughty little puppy . . . hiding like that. That mean old man could have stepped on you. He’s so fat and all, he would have squashed you flat. I’m going to have to tie you up for your own safety, while I’m working. I love you, Tippy,” she cooed, as she kissed his shiny black head—as black as a raven’s wing.

  “Now, see here, you impudent woman!” the man roared.

  Patty giggled seeing the flustered man so fastidiously attired, with puppy pee all over the front of him. It may not be good for business, she thought, but Cassie finally had color in her cheeks and appeared to be as feisty as ever.

  The theatrics was soon over and Patty, Emily, Whiskey and Dora all headed down the stairs to continue on with their day. Everyone had noticed how happy Emily had been that morning, but they figured she’d tell them the reason for this change of mood when she was good and ready.

  The time came sooner than they expected.

  Blake hurried in through the back door at precisely noon. “Hey, everybody. Imagine catching all of you in here, all at the same time.” Discovering Emily, he shot her a glance, raising his eyebrows in question. She smiled her answer.

  “Emily and I have an announcement. As of this morning, we are officially engaged.” He was beside himself with happiness. It was too good to be true.

  They all gasped. This was wonderful news and they started talking and asking questions of the happy couple, in unison.

  Emily laughed. Holding up her hands to quiet them down so she could speak. “We haven’t set a date, but it will be a while before we marry. Now isn’t the right time,” she said soberly, as she glanced over at Cassie.

  Cassie smiled and stood up to address Blake and Emily. “I think this is the best news we’ve had around here for some time. I’m truly happy for the two of you. Please don’t wait on my account. I shall never marry, but I want my friends to be happy and have lots of babies for me to love and play with. So, as far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better.”

  “Thank you, Cassie, dear,” Emily said softly.

  Dora wiped her wet eyes on her apron. “You kids gonna live here, at the Birdsong, or will you get a place in town?”

  Emily looked briefly back at Blake before she answered. “Blake gave me his farm. I have a farm! Can you imagine? I suppose we’ll live there, but we’ll come by here, all the time. I’ll grow things for the hotel, just as I do now. I don’t know how far the farm is from town, but things will work out fine. You’ll see.”

  Whiskey grinned. “A celebration is in order. I’ve got some cider put away. We could have a toast.”

  Patty grimaced. “I have some fine French brandy. Let’s toast with that.”

  Cassie looked in awe at the beautiful golden liquid. “It’s really French?”

  “Oui,” said Patty. “Tres chic.”

  “We should toast to our engagement and to Mrs. Schneider’s twin baby girls,” Blake laughed. That makes six girls, in total, and Mr. Schneider’s last hope for a boy. But he’s over the moon about those two little redheads, just the same.”

  Holding their glasses high, Patty declared, “To Blake and Emily. May they be happily married for many, many years. And may the Schneider twins grow up healthy and beautiful and marry big strapping men who’ll give Mr. Schneider many grandsons.” The glasses clinked and everyone smiled.

  Emily looked at Blake and whispered, “The babies have been delivered.”

  He laughed, practically choking on his brandy. “Tomorrow, Emmie. I’ll take you out to see your farm, first thing tomorrow.” Blake grinned, hoping she wouldn’t be too disappointed in the place, as it had been deserted for many years.

  * * *

  “I’m so excited, Blake. How far is your . . . I mean, my farm?” Emily blurted out. She was w
riggling so in the seat, Blake was worried she might actually fall from the wagon.

  He laughed. It’s not far. You could probably live there and continue working for the hotel, if you wanted. I’ll be coming in all the time. It’s three miles from town. Just a good stretch of the legs, really.”

  “Tell me about it, Blake. Is it on a hill or in a valley? Is the house small and cozy or big and rambling?”

  “You certainly are full of questions this morning. Do you still love me?”

  “Well, of course I still love you. If you took the farm back, I’d be mad at you, but I’d still love you. I may choose not to sleep with you, but I’d still love you,” she grinned.

  “Well, remind me never to threaten to take back your farm, cause I intend to sleep with you every night, woman.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead and placed his hand on her lap where he proceeded to caress her most feminine areas.

  “Blake, if you keep touching me like that, I just may have to reciprocate and touch you. Can you drive this wagon while I’m touching you, darling?” She giggled, knowing his answer before he gave it.

  He lifted his hand off her lap and took up the reins. “I get your point, but when we get to the farm, I intend to find a place for us to rest and whatnot.”

  Emily wriggled her bottom again, but for a whole new reason. “Yes, darling. I do like whatnot. Please hurry!”

  “Get up, there!” he hollered, as he swatted the horse’s backside, encouraging him to pick up the pace.

  Some time had passed with Emily not uttering a word. Blake was starting to worry if she had changed her mind. He thought it was pretty enough here, close to the farm, but he didn’t pretend to know the mind of a woman. Perhaps she was already disappointed.

  “The farm is just over that hill, if I remember correctly,” he uttered casually.

  Suddenly, Emily grabbed Blake’s arm and screamed, “Stop!”

  “Whoa!” Blake pulled up on the reins, causing the horse to miss a few steps and the wagon to lurch to the side.

  “What’s wrong? Did you see something?”

  “My farm!” Emily looked as if she were in shock. Her eyes were wide and her breath was short and rapid.

  “Angel, if you don’t like it, you can sell it and we’ll buy another. I want you to be happy.”

  Tears were running down her face. She had lost all the color in her cheeks. She had a very strong reaction, he thought, to a farm that she hadn’t yet seen.

  “Don’t be so upset, Emmie. You haven’t even seen the place yet. It might not be as bad as you think. Give it a chance to grow on you, please,” he begged. Blake was beginning to feel real panic rise in his chest. If she changed her mind about the farm, would she also change her mind about marrying him?

  Emmie sat frozen; gripping the seat with both hands so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

  Once again, Blake took up the reins and drove the wagon up to the top of the ridge and stopped, looking down upon the prettiest little place he had ever seen. “Well I’ll be darned. It’s right nice, Emmie,” he said. “Look. Give it a chance.”

  Just as he turned his head to catch her reaction, he saw the tail of her skirt disappear over the edge of the seat, as she jumped down and ran from the wagon. Her bonnet flew off and she had dropped the satchel she’d been carrying.

  “Emmie! Stop! Where’re you going?”

  Emily was running down the hill as fast as her legs would carry her. He could hear her crying and shouting unintelligible sounds, as her arms flailed all around. What was she doing? Her shawl caught on a bush as she continued her flight, and she simply ignored it, leaving it behind.

  He snapped the reins and soon overtook the pretty lady running unheeded down the steep hill. “Stop!” he demanded in a brusque voice so sharp she did indeed stop and look up at him.

  “Before you take one more step, woman, you’re going to tell me what has happened to you? What is it about this place that has you running so recklessly toward it?”

  An enormous smile crossed her lovely face. Her eyes were huge with a look of astonishment. As she struggled for breath, she said softly, “This is my farm!”

  “Yes, Emmie, I know. I gave it to you.”

  “You don’t understand. This is the farm I’ve been trying to buy. You’re the owner! This is my farm.” She turned her head and looked out over the hills and valleys spreading out below her. She pointed to her right, and said, “Over there, is my lake, and it’s filled with the sweetest water you’ve ever tasted.” Sweeping her arms from right to left, she yelled, “This is my farm . . . no . . . our farm. I’ve named it, Sweetwater. Do you like it?”

  She barely had time to ask, before Blake took her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way down the hill. He kissed her the entire time, making the walk rather tricky. He sat down under an apple tree and pulled her down upon his lap, where they could sit and gaze out upon their new home—lake and all.

  Blake shook his head in disbelief. “Life sure is a puzzle. To think, all this time, it was my grandparent’s little farm that you had your heart so set on. I’d have given it to you, right off, if I’d only known. How could we not know?”

  Emily smiled, dreamily. “It was just meant to be this way, darling. Now can we go on down? I’d like to show you the small improvements I made.”

  Blake looked perplexed. “Improvements? When did you make improvements?”

  “You remember. I came here when I left town. This is where I hid out, pretending your farm was mine. I told you.”

  “No, Emmie. You’re mistaken. You never did tell me where you ran off.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Please, let me show you around,” she offered, trying to ignore the look of censure on Blake’s face. She stood up, straightening her skirts, and reached down to help him to his feet.

  Blake was pleasantly surprised at what they’d found. Everything had been tended with love. The inside of the small house was spotless and made welcoming. A good start to the garden was just outside the back door. He could imagine bright green, flavorful vegetables growing in the spring and summer, feeding him and his wife for many months. It was a pleasant daydream.

  “The house is a little small,” he said. “We’ll have to add on a couple of rooms for our children.”

  Emily’s face reddened. “I suppose we will. How many children do you want, Blake?”

  Stroking his chin, he thought upon it. “No more than nine or ten, I reckon.”

  “What?” Emily exclaimed.

  Blake laughed so hard, he thought he’d cry. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I guess I’d be satisfied with two or three. Does that meet with your approval?” he asked, still laughing.

  She nodded gratefully.

  “As long as they’re all boys.” He grinned.

  “Oh, you’re awful!” she teased. “I need to get a dog and chickens and a goat. We’ll need a milk cow too. We already have a couple of geese. They’re wonderful. We’ll need a horse to pull the plow—it’s in the barn and in very good condition, by the way. Everything has been well taken care of. Your grandparents must have loved this farm very much. Why did they leave?”

  Blake shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t rightly say, angel. It was during the war and I lost touch. Truth is, we were never very close. They didn’t approve of my mother’s choice of husband. I was greatly surprised they left this farm to me. Maybe, through this little bit of land, I’ll come to know them better. I sure do thank them for making my future wife so happy.”

  Emily squeezed his hand. “I’ve come to know and love them, already.”

  For the next several hours the happy couple inspected the entire farm, making plans and forming dreams of their future. It was a very pleasant way to spend the day.

  Just before they left, Emily took Blake into the bedroom and showed him the contents of an old trunk. There was a small quilt with bluebirds embroidered across the top, a yellowed baby’s gown, and a tiny silver bracelet.

  “I don’t believe it
,” he said, as he gently picked up the delicate bracelet. “This must have been my mother’s when she was just an infant.” He turned it over in his large hands. “And the quilt was mine.” He laughed at the childish birds. “I can remember talking to the birds at night, trying to get them to take me with them when they flew away. I guess I had the wanderlust even way back then.”

  Then his eyes sobered. He reverently picked up the tiny christening gown. “This was mine and then my baby sister’s. Gillian was never healthy. She was slow, but so very sweet. She lived to be four years old, before she was taken. Her absence created a hole in my family that never quite healed.” He held the garment close to his cheek. “I want children, Emmie. Lots and lots of children.”

  Emily put her arms around his strong back and shoulders. “Of course, darling. I do too. Let’s take this trunk back with us to the hotel. I don’t feel good about leaving it out here, now that I know of its value. And I’d like to take the mantle clock back, too. It could use some cleaning.”

  Blake agreed. My grandfather brought that all the way from Germany. It was a gift to his bride.”

  They quickly loaded the heavy trunk and a few odds and ends—including the family bible—onto the wagon and set out for town. The trip home seemed to take half the time as before, and they arrived happier than they had been in months. Emily couldn’t wait to tell her friends about her farm.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “We’re havin’ another weddin’!” Dora announced, gleefully. “This is the most marryin’ up group of folks I ever did see.”

  Patty clasped her hands together in excitement. “May I help with the selection of your gown, Emily? I know what they’re wearing in New York and Paris. The style would compliment your figure, beautifully.”

  “Ha! Emmie would look just as beautiful in an old feed sack, and it’s a sight cheaper, I reckon,” Blake declared. “But of course, if she wants to wear a wedding gown, I wouldn’t say no,” he chuckled.

  Emily gave Blake a small punch to his arm. “You think you’re so funny. Well, I just might just send away to Paris for my gown. I can afford it, you know. When you marry me, mister, you’re not getting a woman coming to you in her shift.”