by Delia Parr
Walter Emerson, the proprietor, quickly approached and garnered her full attention. ‘‘Widow Garrett. How good to see you again. I’m as surprised to see you here as I am pleased.’’
‘‘Unfortunately, it doesn’t appear I’ll be staying. I was supposed to meet—’’
‘‘Mr. Langhorne. Yes, I know. He sent word down that he’s been delayed for a few moments but asked if you’d mind waiting for him. I have his usual table set aside so you can talk privately,’’ he suggested, escorting her to a table in the far corner and helping her into a seat facing the wall.
She had no sooner set the fully cleaned hat on the table when Mr. Langhorne appeared and slipped into the chair opposite her, giving him full view of the dining room at her back. ‘‘I apologize. I’m usually very punctual,’’ he offered, glanced at the hat on the table, and frowned. ‘‘I thought I told you to put that in the trash pit.’’
‘‘As you can see, there was no damage done at all, and I thought the least I could do was to return it to you and offer you a good meal, considering the inconvenience you’ve suffered. It seemed a pity to discard a perfectly good hat.’’
He took the hat from the table, set it on the seat of a side chair, and smiled. ‘‘Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Widow Stokes’s bonnet. I hope it wasn’t too uncomfortable for you to come here to the hotel, especially since she seems to be having breakfast here now, as well.’’
Emma blushed, more from the realization that part of their plan was working than from the embarrassment she hoped he would assume was the source of her discomfort. ‘‘Obviously you’ve heard about what happened.’’
‘‘In truth, I thought you’d have rid yourself of that chicken by now. Our breakfast notwithstanding—which was a very kind gesture on your part—that chicken is proving very costly, given the price of chocolates and new bonnets.’’
Her blush deepened. ‘‘Indeed, it has, but I do believe we’re very close to resolving the problem.’’
The waiter finally appeared and interrupted their conversation. Once they had placed their orders, Mr. Langhorne directed the conversation right back to Widow Stokes. ‘‘I understand Widow Stokes has come to Candlewood hoping to make a few investments with the very sizable inheritance she received from her late husband.’’
‘‘Which reminds me of my other purpose for wanting to meet with you today,’’ Emma said. ‘‘I’ve given our last meeting a great deal of thought, and I wanted to reassure you, in person, that I have no intention of speaking to either James or Andrew about your business dealings with them. Whatever they decide to do will be entirely up to them.’’
Instead of responding, Mr. Langhorne stared past her. When she ventured a discreet look over her shoulder and saw Andrew Leonard sit down with Widow Stokes, her heart skipped a beat. At least he was here.
‘‘Mr. Langhorne?’’ she asked, hoping to distract him from staring at the other table.
He flinched and met her gaze again. ‘‘Yes, you . . . you were saying?’’
‘‘I was going to say that I hoped we could set aside the problems we’ve had between us.’’
‘‘Yes, yes, of course,’’ he managed before breakfast arrived. While the waiter set the plates onto the table, Mr. Langhorne had the opportunity to observe what was happening.
All Emma could do was stare at the wall and hope and pray Andrew and James had met last night or earlier today and ended their feud. Given Andrew’s arrival here now, she suspected they might have done that, but she could not be sure.
Until Andrew arrived at their table only seconds after the waiter left and greeted them both.
Exhaustion etched his features, and he looked as if he had not slept all night. When he spoke to greet them, his voice was firm but raspy.
‘‘Both of you probably have business to discuss. I should leave,’’ Emma said and started to rise.
Wearing a smug smile, Mr. Langhorne urged her back into her seat. ‘‘Please don’t. You may as well hear the news firsthand. I trust you do have news?’’ he asked Andrew without rising or inviting the man to sit down.
‘‘I’m hoping to save you a trip all the way out to see me, which may be the only good news I have for you,’’ Andrew said. ‘‘I spoke with my brother again at great length only last night. We’ve both decided against selling the land at this time, which is what I just told Widow Stokes, despite the fact that her offer was substantially more generous than your own.’’
Mr. Langhorne bolted to his feet, and his face turned scarlet. ‘‘I made my offer months ago, and I’ve waited all this time for you to convince your brother to sell. If this is an effort on your part to spike the price of my offer, it won’t work. Do you take me for a fool? I know that woman only arrived in Candlewood yesterday.’’
Andrew clenched and unclenched his fists, but his gaze was rock steady. ‘‘Widow Stokes came to Candlewood precisely to speak to me. Once you made your offer, did it not occur to you that I might also seek out other buyers? Or that I might consider once I sold the land to you or anyone else, my brother could be forced to sell out if the new owner refused him passage on the toll road?’’
Mr. Langhorne’s spectacles slid down the length of his nose, and he shoved them back abruptly. ‘‘What about the business you wanted to open here in town? Are you really going to let your brother force you to abandon that idea, as well?’’
Andrew let out a long breath, as if further exhausted by Mr. Langhorne’s questions. ‘‘Right now, restoring peace in my family is far more important than anything else I might want to do. This, I might add, is what I told Widow Stokes just now and what I intend to explain to my mother when I leave here and go to Hill House. I can always open a business later. For now, my brother and I are going to combine our farms and work together for a change. It’s what I want. It’s what my brother wants. And I believe it’s what will please my mother the most.’’
He paused and looked directly at Emma. ‘‘James is meeting me at Hill House later this morning, just as we planned to do, but I have a few errands to attend to first. Would you care to join us? I’m not sure which one of us my mother will be going home with, but I’m sure she’d like to say good-bye to you before she does.’’
Overwhelmed, Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘‘Mr. Langhorne and I were just about to have breakfast. Perhaps it might be better if—’’
‘‘I’ve lost my appetite,’’ Mr. Langhorne snapped, grabbed his hat from the chair, and stormed from the room.
Andrew watched the man storm from the dining room, looked back at Emma, and grinned. ‘‘It appears the plan has worked perfectly! I’ll see you back at Hill House as soon as I’ve finished my errands,’’ he promised and promptly left her sitting at the table all alone, stunned by their apparent success.
Seconds later Zachary Breckenwith eased himself into Mr. Langhorne’s empty seat, smiled, and pointed to the breakfast platter in front of her. ‘‘It’d be a shame to waste good food. You haven’t had much time to eat. Why don’t I fill you in on a few details while you eat, and then I’ll take you back to Hill House?’’
Emma clutched the edge of the table. ‘‘W-what details? What are you doing here?’’
His smile broadened. ‘‘Helping, I hope. At least, that was the plan. I came here this morning simply to be near in case you needed help. I didn’t want you to face Langhorne alone,’’ he added.
‘‘You knew about the plan? How? The last we spoke, you were going to be away for at least a month. Opal and Garnet said they’d dined with you and your aunt in Bounty, but that was before we’d even thought of this plan.’’
‘‘All true,’’ he admitted. ‘‘With the canal being repaired, I decided to ride back to Candlewood instead of sitting around Bounty waiting to continue on to New York City. I met Miss Garnet on the toll road on my way back when she was on her way to Andrew’s late yesterday. She told me what you had all planned and recruited my help with this part of that little scheme of yours
. I hope you don’t mind.’’
She swallowed hard. ‘‘As my lawyer, I’m surprised you’d want to be involved in a scheme of any kind.’’
‘‘I’m not here as your lawyer,’’ he said softly.
When his eyes locked with hers, Emma’s heart skipped a beat and she smiled. ‘‘I’m glad,’’ she whispered. Feeling a bit awkward and unsure of herself, she turned her attention back to more reliable concerns and drew in a deep breath. ‘‘Do you know where Andrew went now? I’m not sure what errands needed to be done, but I should think he would want to go directly to Hill House to see his mother and tell her the good news that her sons have resolved their troubles with each other.’’
‘‘James is there now, so I’m sure she already knows. At least, that was the plan.’’
‘‘I thought they wanted to tell her together.’’
‘‘I believe they changed the plan a bit. That’s all right, isn’t it?’’
She laughed nervously. ‘‘I suppose it is, as long as everyone is happy, except for Mr. Langhorne, of course.’’ She peeked over her shoulder and saw that Widow Stokes had left the dining room. ‘‘It’s a shame Garnet has to stay here until tomorrow, just for appearances like we planned. I know she’d like to say good-bye to Aunt Frances before she leaves.’’
He grinned. ‘‘That wasn’t Miss Garnet in the dining room. That was Miss Opal. They switched places early this morning. Don’t ask me why. That’s what they wanted to do.’’
Emma leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘‘I never can tell them apart without their pins, let alone being all gowned up, but I do know that what one sister does, the other one has to do, too. But Garnet—I mean Opal—can’t leave now and go back to Hill House! Mr. Langhorne will find out, and then everything we’ve all done will come undone. She has to stay until tomorrow.’’
‘‘Miss Garnet isn’t leaving,’’ he countered. ‘‘Widow Stokes is leaving. Poor woman. She’s so distraught about losing out on buying the Leonards’ property, I believe she’s packing to leave town as we speak. I’d plan on seeing Miss Garnet for dinner. Your mother-in-law apparently invited everyone to stay for dinner to give Widow Leonard time to decide whether she’d like to go home with James or Andrew. When I stopped at Hill House earlier, while you were still getting ready to leave for your meeting at the hotel, she invited me to join you for dinner, as well.’’
Mr. Breckenwith smiled and pushed his chair back from the table. ‘‘Since you don’t seem to have an appetite, shall we go? On our walk back to Hill House, I’d like to hear more about this railroad you think is coming to Candlewood.’’
————
The walk back to Hill House was short and conversation steady, and Emma’s heart was filled with both joy and sadness. Though her mind was distracted both by Zachary Breckenwith’s presence and his support, her heart was troubled by the dilemma facing her now.
Having the Leonard brothers resolve their differences would no doubt ease their mother’s heartache, for which Emma offered a host of thankful prayers. At the same time, however, she was saddened by the prospect of saying good-bye to Aunt Frances, a woman who had taught her the power of faith and a woman who had truly become a member of her Hill House family.
Emma’s dilemma intensified through the tearful reunion that began once they arrived back at Hill House, where Aunt Frances’s entire family had gathered with those from Hill House for the joyous occasion. Through dinner, as they all told and retold the details of the plan as it had unfolded and evolved into a new plan that had included Zachary Breckenwith, Emma’s heart grew heavier.
When dessert was finished and the table cleared, Aunt Frances rose from her chair and glanced around the table.
Emma battled tears of joy and sadness. The moment had finally arrived for Aunt Frances to announce her decision, and the time to say farewell was near.
‘‘I love you all,’’ Aunt Frances began. ‘‘Every one of you is a blessing to me, which makes it impossible for me to choose between you. I think I’d like to go home to spend a few days with Andrew and Nora first, then do the same with James and Sarah so I can enjoy being a grandmother again.’’
She paused and looked directly at Emma. ‘‘After that, I was hoping I’d be welcome here at Hill House until the season ends in November so I can spend time with my new family here. I’ll spend the winter with James and Andrew, but I’d like to come back to Hill House each spring for the season again. If you’ll have me, Emma dear.’’
Stunned, all Emma could do was nod. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst. Her throat tightened with emotion, but her tears fell freely now. Her spirit trembled with His very goodness, His wisdom, and His love for them all, and she looked forward now to the time when His plan for her would unfold, according to His will.
EPILOGUE
THE BARE TREES AND CHILLIER WINDS of early November forecast the annual closing of the Candlewood Canal in a matter of weeks and the end of the hectic tourist season.
From where Emma stood on the patio with a warm cape wrapped around her, she looked beyond the freshly painted gazebo to the new pen she had had built for the chickens in front of the mulberry trees. Inside the pen, near the hen house, the renegade chicken—now named Faith—remained dominant, controlling the flock Emma had discovered at the trash pit. Faith reigned by acting like the rooster Emma refused to get out of concern her guests might object to waking early to the crowing.
The very air that whipped at her cape and cooled her cheeks promised that winter would soon come and life at Hill House would change dramatically, especially as she waited for the owner of Hill House to arrive. The flock of chickens she was watching now would be moved closer to the house. The number of guests would dwindle to the precious few who would be forced by necessity to brave the elements and travel by coach. Aunt Frances would be returning home to live with her sons until spring, and Reverend Glenn and Butter would have to save their walks down to the gazebo until the arrival of fairer weather.
She slid her hand into the pocket of her cape and fingered her keepsakes until she felt the smooth piece of silk she had cut from the riding skirt Aunt Frances had made for her, and smiled.
There was so much to be thankful for and so much to look forward to this winter, as well. With fewer guests, there would be more time to sit and read or sit in front of a fire on the patio, perhaps with Zachary Breckenwith. After his aunt Elizabeth decided to move to Bounty to live with a cousin, he had purchased her home, and his decision to make Candlewood his home permanently was yet another development in their evolving relationship.
Emma would also have more time to spend with Mother Garrett and Reverend Glenn, as well as with Liesel and Ditty, who were already planning the samplers they would make using the fancier stitches Aunt Frances had been teaching them. Come spring, her children and grandchildren would come home for her birthday in April, making it a special day indeed.
The amazing gifts that surrounded her filled her with a deep sense of awe. Although her future here at Hill House remained uncertain, she was now content to let Him lead her to even greater wonders in the days ahead and trusted that there would be a hearth in Candlewood to call her own.
Emma bowed her head and her heart to the One who filled every day of her life with love and hope, the One who offered her so many opportunities to renew her faith in Him each and every day, and to the One who would reveal His will for her, all in His time, if only she held tight to her faith.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
THE OPENING OF THE ERIE CANAL in 1825 triggered an exciting era of canal building that quickly spread throughout our young nation, especially in New York State. Inland waterways carried settlers west, linked rural areas to eastern markets, and created incredible commercial wealth for entrepreneurs and investors alike.
In their heyday, the canals virtually transformed small towns like the fictional Candlewood and changed the everyday rhythms of life for the people who lived there. Opport
unities seemed boundless until after the Civil War, when the railroad emerged as a more cost-effective form of transportation.
Although the New York Canal System, which included the Erie Canal, continued to operate, many lateral canals were ultimately abandoned and fell into disrepair. Today, however, the packet boats, freight barges, and drivers urging mules along the canals’ towpaths have been replaced by pleasure boats, cyclists, hikers, and fishermen, who are enjoying the canals as recreation centers that reflect the glories of our historical past.
For more information on canals throughout the country and for opportunities to enjoy some of the outdoor adventures they offer, please visit an informative Web site, www.canals.com/northam.htm, or the official Web site of the New York Canal System, www.canals.state.ny.us/.
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