“I’m so glad you’re here! I thought Mark was meeting you later this morning. What a wonderful surprise that you’ve come so early!” Rebecca said. She looked over her daughter’s shoulder for a gentleman. “Are you alone?”
Louisa rolled her eyes and just shook her head.
Timothy’s bellowing laugh filled the big kitchen.
Five
Louisa touched the soft, merino wool that hung in twisted skeins on the drying rack in Rebecca’s sewing room. She knew from her mother’s letters that the Elgersons now raised sheep at Stavewood and her mother had spun her own yarn for the first time that spring. Her mother always had a project on her knitting needles, a dress on the form or a new bolt of fabric covering the length of her long cutting table. Oftentimes her beautiful creations were for her, her only daughter.
“Are you sure you don’t mind staying in here for your visit?” Rebecca stood in the center of the room looking up into her daughter’s face. “With Birget in your old room the only other choices are the third floor guest rooms. I originally thought you could stay at the cottage like you usually do. I hadn’t counted on Katie having her baby there so soon.”
“No, Mama. It’s perfect, really. I love this room. It’s so bright and serene. I’d prefer it to my old room anyway.” Louisa set her satchel on the floor and the typewriter case onto the table and looked around. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to use the big cutting table.”
The room was paneled in a soft blond wood, and the high ceilings, heavy doors and wide windows were finished with fine crown molding. A massive wooden rocker sat beside the single bed which was piled high with ruffled white sheets and down comforters. “Like the princess’s room in the tower,” Louisa thought. It was perfect and romantic and comfortable and it was home. A fire had been lit in the little fireplace and the crackling wood perfumed the room with its scent.
Rebecca smiled, relieved. “It’s so good you’re home. I have missed you terribly.”
Louisa sat silently for a moment as she watched her mother putting pin cushions and measuring tapes into neatly arranged baskets. She remembered standing on the squat, tufted stool in the center of the room while her mother knelt at her ankles, pinning the hem of a new dress or a ruffled petticoat. She could see her there in her brightly colored gown, her dark hair pulled away from her face in a tumble of curls. That was long ago, when she was the princess of Stavewood and the daughter of the largest mill owner in the state. But one day Louisa had decided it was not all she ever wanted to be. Her family lived in a cocoon of happiness and, although it was fine for them, she wanted to feel, to hurt, to know reality. She outgrew the desire to write fairy tales and instead turned to true stories about the real life dramas in the world. She began writing mysteries, often meeting with the local police investigators, detectives and morticians to learn about murder and crime in the city.
“Mama,” Louisa sat down on the bed. “I have always wanted to write your story and now it’s time. I remember a lot of the stories you told me, and Daddy has told me stories as well and so has Birget and Mark. But there’s more. There are things I wonder about and details I was never told.”
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” Rebecca sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand gently.
“This man you’re seeing, you’re getting serious aren’t you?”
Louisa looked down at her mother’s delicate hands against her own. “Yes, I think so.”
“Has he asked you to marry him, or are you…?” Rebecca blushed again.
“Lovers?” Louisa said. “No, neither. But I think he might propose before too long. He gave me this beautiful watch.” She held up her wrist and her mother admired the piece, commenting on how perfectly it suited her.
“I think he’s quite ready but I’m not one hundred percent sure yet.” Louisa looked up into her mother’s eyes. “All my life I heard about how you and Daddy were so perfect for one another and that everyone around you knew you belonged together from the beginning. How did you know it was really love and not just a crush or infatuation?”
Rebecca looked off, her mind traveling back to the early days, when she and Timothy were learning that, despite all of the challenges they faced, they were completely in love.
She cleared her throat, bit her lip, and looked back at her daughter.
“At first I was a little afraid of him. I thought he was remarkable and compelling, but a bit frightening too. The first day I was here at Stavewood there was a party that night. He didn’t know I was the mail-order-bride he’d been expecting and I didn’t know he was the man I had come to meet. Even so, he’d given me clothes and a place to stay and I was overwhelmed by his kindness.” Her throat tightened and she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. “But then I walked down the big staircase and he looked up at me as if I was perfect. I felt rare and precious in his eyes and I was everything I wanted to be as a woman. I knew right then that all I ever wanted was to be in his arms and at his side. That didn’t happen right away, though I wished terribly at the time that it had. No, we had to learn about one another, to find our way together. We had to trust.”
Louisa took a deep breath and looked at her watch imagining Talbot’s piercing blue eyes. He was devoted to her and she wanted terribly to feel the same. She needed to know her feelings for him were more than an infatuation or her fear of never finding love at all.
Rebecca continued. “Knowing my life would always be empty without him didn’t make it any easier though. Octavia, who always hoped to marry your father, was at the party telling everyone they were engaged. I didn’t know any better. Then later, she told me that someone had sent for a picture bride because they had lost a bet. My whole life had turned upside down. I believed I had traveled halfway around the world for nothing. The night we finally got it straightened out I threw propriety right out the window and before we were wed I lay with him.” Rebecca sighed at her admission.
“Mama!” Louisa gasped. “You? And Daddy?”
Rebecca blushed deeply. “I never could say no to him. Especially not that morning when he asked me be his wife. I was afraid, but without him I was not complete. He wanted to marry right away, that very day. So we did and I have never regretted it a moment since.”
Louisa got to her feet and walked to the window.
“Talbot is good to me, Mama. He is attentive and always telling me how wonderful I am. When I look into his eyes I have no doubts but other times I’m not sure how I feel. I just wish I knew. I’ve waited a long time for the right man and now I’m afraid I’m being too guarded. I worry that I’ll end up a spinster. I don’t want that. I want what you and Daddy have, what Emma and Roland and Mark and Colleen have found. I wish I knew if it was Talbot.”
“You came home without him. Why?” Rebecca asked.
“To write, to clear my head. I want to write your story and maybe then I’ll find my own heart.”
“But you didn’t bring him here to be with you while you look for that.”
“I know,” Louisa said, her voice a soft sigh.
“Well.” Rebecca touched her hand. “If he’s the one you’ll miss him and that will tell you something. You have to open your heart and let it find love, no matter what. You’ll know.”
Louisa took a deep breath and realized that the aroma of a hearty Stavewood breakfast had filled the air.
“Let’s go eat,” Rebecca said. “I just want to put a few things away first and get them out of your way.”
Louisa helped her mother move bolts of fabric to the closet shelves and arranged them neatly. She noticed a knob in the panel at the back of the closet.
“Mama, what is behind this panel? I always wondered.”
“It’s an access shaft for the pipes that run from the basement to the top floor. Your father was certain one of you would fall down there one day and he put in that panel. You couldn’t reach that knob when you were little.” Rebecca laughed lightly. “I think we are ready for breakfast now.”
“There may be some in the cellar.” Rebecca reached up and touched her daughter’s cheek. “We’ll talk more later on, alright? I’ll tell you anything you would like to know. Don’t you know that your happiness has always been the most important thing?”
“I know, Mama. Thank you.”
Louisa checked the pantry first where the smaller canisters were generally stored. The larder was filled as generously as she recalled from her childhood but there was no Brazilian tea. She lit a lamp and ventured down into the cellar. She passed racks where her father kept fine wines and brandies and turned a corner. Against the wall to her left were shelves of tools where jars of nails, screws and other supplies were kept. There was a large red paint can and an opened old tin filled with screwdrivers. On a shelf to her right she found the can of Brazilian tea. No matter what you were seeking at Stavewood you were likely to find it. She felt a draft and looked up the narrow pipe access that ran up to the upper floors of the house. With the closet door in the sewing room closed the top of the shaft disappeared into the darkness.
Six
Louisa burped softly as she stood beside her father in the stable. The long, wide structure had six stalls but only two had horses. In her youth there had been a beautiful animal in every one, tucked away behind heavy Dutch doors. On one end was the place where her father had kept his massive stallion, Cannonball. She had learned earlier, as a child, never to tease the big horse, even in fun. Although she had never seen him violent, his huge size and solid black color was enough to discourage cruelty.
“Excuse me,” she giggled.
“Good breakfast, eh?” Her father cinched the saddle onto Romeo, a beautiful bay gelding. The horse’s points were black along the ankle and muzzle against a rich brown hide. He was finely bred and extremely gentle. She scratched the horse’s shoulder and admired his gleaming coat.
“I’ve gotten used to having much less to eat so early in the day.” Louisa had enjoyed the customary hearty breakfast of home. She’d taken an instant liking to Liv, who not only was a very talented cook, but was also efficient, patient and respectful to Birget.
“I like the new girl,” she said as she reached up to grab the horn on the saddle and stepped into the stirrup.
“Birget likes her, too. I suppose that’s the most important thing. It’ll always be her kitchen more than anyone’s.” Timothy handed his daughter the reins as she settled into the saddle and snapped closed the strap on her riding cap.
“I expect I’ll be out at Mark and Colleen’s a good part of the morning. Are you sure Momma doesn’t mind that I take Romeo all day?”
“Of course not. You know there is nothing in the world she wouldn’t give you.”
“Daddy,” Louisa looked into her father’s warm brown eyes. “It’s good to be home. I remember once you told me you built Stavewood to be more than a home. I see that now. I’ve been thinking a lot about Mama, and you. I took a walk on the train back to the coach cars. It broke my heart to imagine her there, young, afraid and hungry.”
Timothy Elgerson looked up at his daughter on the horse. “And things only got worse for her after the train. The day she let me into her heart I vowed I would spend a lifetime making it up to her.”
“I love you, Daddy. I think you have done exactly that.” Louisa looked at her father and thought about how lucky her parents were to be so completely in love with one another. “I’m going out later to Hawk Bend Station to look around and take some notes. Mark was up there when Mama first arrived and I need to hear that story again. I want to write it down this time.”
“Have Mark take you up then. If you need any of your brothers let me know. Phillip has taken over the bookkeeping now at the mill and Noah and Jake are running saws after school, but any of them would love to spend the day with you.”
Louisa thought about how much her brother, Phillip, looked like her grandfather and the memory of the man brought to mind the fairy tale cottage her grandmother had kept near their home.
“Is anyone using the cottage now?” she asked.
“Katie and Joseph are there right now, until after the baby comes. After all those beautiful stories of you being born there all the young mothers want to have their babies there. Other than that it’s usually empty. I think your mother secretly hopes you might want to live there one day.”
Louisa sighed. “Was it easy for you to fall in love with Mama? I remember Mark telling me he thought falling in love was easy, that it just happened. When he found Colleen he knew, through and through. He used to tell me that when two people found one another they should not act like chickens and pretend they weren’t in love. He must have said that a hundred times whenever he saw you and Mama together, or the Vancouvers.”
“Your mother and I, we did know, through and through as you say, but we had real challenges. So did Mark and Colleen. The confusion about your mother when she arrived nearly drove her back to England. Had that happened everything would have been lost. Mark nearly got himself killed before he found Colleen. Look at Roland and Emma and the things they faced to be together. In your heart you know you have found love, but there can be huge obstacles to overcome. I wonder how many people let love, real love, slip away for not fighting for it, not believing in it. Your mother and I both fought for it really hard.”
As her father spoke, Louisa again found herself touching her watch, bringing Talbot’s handsome face to mind. He was what she wanted but it would be hard to bring him home to the family. His ways were very different than theirs. But, she reasoned, if he were the right man, she could overcome that. Her family wanted the best for her and they would want her happy. She could make them understand that she was in love. With Talbot, in the city and not under the watchful eye of her family, she could figure it out.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Timothy slapped the rump of the big bay and Romeo swiftly carried Louisa away from the stables and along the stretch of road that led from Stavewood. The wind blowing on her face was invigorating. It had been years since she had ridden and she felt free and alive in the cool mid-morning air.
She passed wagons on the road, several riders, men who tipped their hats and couples called out a “good morning”. She didn’t recognize any of them, not even the men she saw turning up the mill road on their way to a day of hard work cutting lumber. She was home now, but she was a stranger. Stavewood was very much the same as she always had known it to be, but, all around the estate, the outside world was changing. Louisa could not explain exactly why, but she felt saddened by that realization.
She turned the bay onto the property of her older brother and his wife and stopped beneath the massive wrought iron archway. The name Elgerson was forged into the tough metal in a curving scroll, intertwined with steel filigree. The estate, the mills, the train station and this ranch, all of it was her family and her home. The plans had been conceived in their minds and had been built by their own hands. It was a dreamland, Louisa thought, and not like the city. She dismounted Romeo and led him into the yard by the ranch house.
A massive, golden colored mutt bounded towards her and Louisa squatted to scratch his head cooing, “Hello, boy, what’s your name?” She looked out over the rolling hillside of the ranch. The barn stood bright red in the morning sunlight, dominating the meadow. A horse track surrounded the open areas of the property, bordered on both sides by a white split-rail fence. She saw trainers in the corrals working with young fillies. She knew that, if Mark kept the men on his ranch, they were the best to be had, firm and gentle and experts at their craft.
Louisa turned to the house. A long porch stretched across the facade. Deep green shutters framed the windows. She looked for the dinner triangle that had always hung there since the house had been built. She knew that, when Colleen called the family for supper, it could be heard over the entire property. Louisa chuckled to herself at the memory of the time she and h
er cousin Katie had waited until everyone was away from the house and rang it loudly. They giggled hard as Louisa rattled the metal bar around inside the triangle violently and even harder at the sight of the family running home across the yard. But their laughter stopped once they saw the worried expressions etched upon their faces. Their game earned them a good scolding from each and every family member. Louisa could not recall a time after that when any child had trifled with the triangle again.
Seven
Mark Elgerson heard Romeo’s hoofbeats on the road approaching the ranch. She was home. It had been two long years but she had finally returned and he hoped with all of his heart this time it would be for good. There was no question in his mind that home was exactly where Louisa belonged and the only place she would find true happiness. She had tried for years in letters and occasional visits to convince him that she belonged in the city, but he would never believe it. He’d seen the city and he personally never wanted to go back. Nearby Billington was busy enough now, especially with cars becoming more popular. There was nothing romantic about any city to his way of thinking. It was a lesson that had cost his best friend his life and nearly taken his own as well.
Colleen looked up from the sink, pushed her mane of golden curls from her forehead with her wrist and wiped her hands on her white apron. She watched him walk out onto the big porch and decided she would wait a moment before joining him.
Mark leaned against the post on the ranch house porch grinning from ear to ear. He nodded a greeting to Louisa as she led Romeo towards the house.
“I knew you would be early,” he laughed. At forty, Mark Elgerson was fit and handsome, lean and tanned. His hair, a gleaming sable brown, fell long against his collar and the nape of his neck and his complexion was bronzed from years in the sun. Louisa always remembered him as shy, awkward and sweet. His deep brown eyes reflected kindness and he stood with confidence and assurance in himself. Years of rugged horsemanship had kept him fit and healthy.
The Secret of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 4) Page 3
