A Hearth in Candlewood (14 page)

She turned and looked at Emma. ‘‘You’ve known that heartache, haven’t you?’’

Emma nodded, slipped her hand into her pocket, and felt among her keepsakes to find the piece of heavy serge cut from the suit of clothes Jonas had worn on their wedding day.

Widow Leonard’s gaze grew misty. ‘‘You carried that burden, as well, Nora.’’

When Andrew’s wife nodded, Emma recalled that Nora had been married once before but had lost her husband suddenly, only months after they had been wed.

‘‘For a woman to bury her sweet babies is another heartache a woman carries for the rest of her days,’’ Widow Leonard continued. She dropped her gaze. She did not look up from her lap to either Emma or Nora, and Emma did not expect the elderly woman to do so. She had been spared the grief of losing a child, but Nora carried the very different grief of being barren.

For several long moments, Widow Leonard stared at her lap. When she did meet their gazes again, she dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘‘For a woman to see her grown children estranged from one another, to stand by, helpless, unable to help them resolve the troubles between them day after day is a cross of guilt and grief I fear I can no longer carry.’’

Emma choked back the emotion lodged in her throat and noticed that Nora’s eyes had filled with tears she hurriedly blinked away.

Andrew’s cheeks colored, and he braced his feet to adjust his position in the chair. ‘‘I’ve tried to explain this to you before. This isn’t your fault, but it’s not mine, either. There’s nothing I can do to make James change his mind. I’ve tried talking to him. He walks away. I’ve tried to show him facts and figures. He tears them up. I’ve even tried pleading with him, but he won’t listen. Not even long enough to hear me out completely.’’

He raked his hand through his hair. ‘‘Tell me, Mother. What can I do? If James isn’t willing to discuss the matter at all, what can I do? Nothing,’’ he charged without giving her a chance to reply. ‘‘There’s nothing to be done but to accept the fact that I no longer have a brother.’’

‘‘Your father would be—’’

‘‘My father? My father should have divided the land into two equal parts in his will; instead, he created a . . . a living nightmare for all of us that has you putting yourself out to work as if you had no family to care for you.’’

‘‘I’m sure your father had good intentions,’’ Nora offered and looked to her mother-in-law for support.

Curious to learn more of the details surrounding the issue that had driven James and Andrew apart, Emma looked to Widow Leonard, as well.

The elderly woman looked at each of them in turn and sighed. ‘‘Enoch was a good husband and a good father. In all the years I knew him, he did not once entertain a wicked thought or deed, and he was a fair-minded man. To his credit, he wanted to be sure you would both benefit equally. Unfortunately, he could not predict the changes the future would bring, any more than he could envision the day when his two sons would be at odds with each other.’’

‘‘He could have avoided any and all problems by dividing the land differently.’’

‘‘And I suppose you wouldn’t have felt slighted or cruelly treated if James had gotten the greater share?’’

‘‘To my eye, James always gets the bigger portion. He has the better land and four sons to help him work it. Must he now keep me from trying to secure what little I can for myself?’’

When the echo of Andrew’s bitter words faded, the cadence of uneven breathing was the only sound that filled the room. Nora dabbed at her silent tears, no doubt hurt by her husband’s callous reference to her inability to bear a child. For his part, Andrew kept his gaze locked on his mother, who simply bowed her head and stared at her lap.

Andrew’s words also sliced through Emma’s first impression that a piece of land was the cause of the fallout between the brothers. She also knew enough to suspect the Candlewood Canal, built some years after Enoch Leonard’s death, played a role in the dispute between James and Andrew.

Andrew, however, had just revealed, unwittingly or not, the truth: The troubles between them were rooted deep in jealousy and envy that had apparently been brewing for years.

Without knowing the land in question or the precise argument concerning it, there was little she could offer to guide this family toward reconciliation. ‘‘I wonder if I might pose a question,’’ she murmured and directed her question to Andrew.

Still winded from his gust of words, he waved his hand to indicate he had no objection.

‘‘I have a vague recollection of the extent of the land your father owned, but I’m not certain as to how he divided it in his will. Can you tell me about the land in dispute?’’

He straightened in his chair. ‘‘The land separates my land from my brother’s and runs north and south, covering a portion of the toll road that starts just south of Candlewood and runs north to Bounty. There are two acres on either side of the toll road, as well.’’

‘‘What about the tolls that are collected? Do you share them equally with your brother?’’

He shook his head. ‘‘The toll gate is at the midpoint, close to my home. I collect the tolls and take a larger portion. The rest goes to my brother.’’

She cocked a brow and wondered if he realized he had just undercut his own argument about his brother always getting more than he did. ‘‘A larger portion?’’

‘‘I earn it,’’ he argued. ‘‘Not that there’s much point to my efforts. Once the Candlewood Canal opened, road traffic dwindled, and it’s only gotten worse. At this point in time, a week could pass before I collect a single toll, which means there’s little sense wasting either time or money to make repairs. Some of the other landowners have abandoned their toll gates completely. James and I would be better served if we could just sell the land and divide the money between us.’’

Emma narrowed her gaze. Selling a strip of land four-odd acres wide might not be all that easy, but she supposed some investor might be interested. ‘‘That sounds reasonable.’’

He snorted. ‘‘Being reasonable is not one of my brother’s finer qualities. He refused to consider the matter at all, despite the fact that we have a fair offer. But then, why should he? He already has everything he wants and more. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ve said more than I wanted to say.’’

He got to his feet and helped his wife from her chair. ‘‘Mother, if you’ll collect your things, I’d like you to head home with us.’’

Widow Leonard looked up at her son. ‘‘I can’t, Andrew. Not until you fix matters with your brother.’’

Emma rose, moved behind the elderly woman’s chair, and placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders. ‘‘Your mother has been wonderful company for Reverend Glenn, who is still troubled by the stroke he suffered. Your mother’s presence here and her encouragement have made a big difference to him, and it might be more helpful if she stayed with us for a while longer.’’

When Andrew opened his mouth to argue, Nora silenced him by merely placing her hand on his arm.

He glanced down at her, looked over at his mother, and let out a deep sigh. ‘‘If you want matters settled, then you should speak to my brother. In the meantime, if you change your mind and want to come home, send for me,’’ he said and escorted his wife from the library.

‘‘There’s no hope. Just no hope at all,’’ Widow Leonard whispered after they left.

Emma was tempted to agree. But beyond Andrew’s obvious affection for his wife and his mother, there was one sliver of light that shone through his bitterness. ‘‘As long as Andrew still refers to James as his brother, I believe there is hope.’’

15

W
EDNESDAY DAWNED BRIGHT
with the promise of another glorious day, although the day itself was remarkable simply because her granddaughter Deborah turned five today. With the arrival of thick cloud cover by midmorning, the promise faded, along with Emma’s hopes that this might be the day she would be able to speak privately with Mr. Sewell.

Unfortunately, he had left at first light for the third day in a row to inspect yet another potential investment property and did not expect to return until well after supper. Other than a few moments here and there when she had answered his questions about some of the new businesses in town, there had been no time for them to meet privately to discuss business. His wife and daughters had decided to brave a walk along Main Street to shop, although Emma had sent Ditty to the livery with a note to arrange for a carriage to be available to bring them home with their packages when they finished.

Emma had been working downstairs in her office for several hours handling correspondence, while Widow Leonard worked at her sewing upstairs. She noted the change in the weather, set her work aside, and went directly to the kitchen, but she found only Liesel at the sink washing the cleaning cloths Ditty had used to freshen their guests’ rooms.

She glanced around and frowned. There were no pots simmering on the cookstove, no aromas coming from the oven. With literally no sign of dinner in the making, Emma felt the first prickle of suspicion that the day held more surprises. ‘‘Is Mother Garrett about?’’

Liesel paused and rested the cleaning cloth against the washboard. ‘‘She said she wouldn’t be long and that she’d be back soon.’’

Liesel was not a young woman of few words, another sign of impending trouble. Emma waited for more of an explanation, but when the young woman offered nothing more, she prompted her. ‘‘Did she say where she was going?’’

‘‘She had an errand to run. On Main Street,’’ she added when Emma narrowed her gaze.

‘‘I see.’’ She glanced from Liesel to the cookstove and back again. ‘‘May I assume dinner will be on time for our guests?’’

Liesel’s cheeks flushed pink. ‘‘Mrs. Sewell told Mother Garrett that she and her daughters wouldn’t be here for dinner and they wouldn’t return until late afternoon. I expect they’ll be here for supper. She didn’t say they wouldn’t be.’’

Unaccustomed to being informed about her guests’ plans after the fact, Emma felt her pulse quicken. ‘‘What about the rest of us? Will we have dinner today?’’

Liesel’s blush deepened. ‘‘Mother Garrett said we would—’’

With that, Mother Garrett huffed her way into the kitchen. ‘‘I said we would have cold platters today, which we will as soon as I can make them. I’m sorry, Emma. My errand took me longer than I expected,’’ she said after she stopped to catch her breath.

When she did, she looked directly at Liesel. ‘‘Be a dear, won’t you? Go out to the gazebo and take an umbrella with you for Reverend Glenn. The rain’s not far off and might get here before he can manage his way back to the house. And if it does start raining, keep that mongrel out on the patio until you wipe down his paws and that mangy tail of his.’’

Liesel abandoned her work at the sink and left to carry out her new task without complaint. After donning an apron, Mother Garrett took the ham left from dinner yesterday from the larder to the table, leaving Emma standing next to the cookstove with a host of questions ready to bubble over in her mind.

Rather than question her mother-in-law directly as to her whereabouts, a tactic Emma had learned did not work, she took Liesel’s place at the sink and began scrubbing the cleaning cloth. ‘‘It’s Deborah’s birthday today.’’

‘‘I remembered. She’s probably looking more like you than ever,’’ Mother Garrett offered. ‘‘Has Warren written to say when they might be coming for a visit?’’

‘‘Not yet,’’ Emma replied and quickly turned the topic back to her immediate concerns. ‘‘Did Mrs. Sewell say where she and the girls would be having dinner?’’

‘‘I believe she said they might try the hotel, though why anyone would prefer food at that hotel over mine is a wonder I haven’t yet deciphered. She did say she was afraid they wouldn’t be finished shopping by dinner and didn’t want to come all the way back here and then have to venture out again to the shops. I suppose it’s the coming back up the hill they dislike more than anything else.’’

Emma glanced out the window to find a drizzly mist had already begun to dampen the yard, which made today less than a good one to shop along Main Street. In the far distance she saw the dull bronze roof of the gazebo and hoped Liesel had Reverend Glenn well on his way back to the house. ‘‘I finished most of my correspondence while you were out. I had hoped to have my replies ready for Ditty to post at the General Store, since she had to take my note to the livery, but they took longer than I expected. The Worths will be coming back in late October, just for three days this time. Mrs. Parrish and her sister are coming about the same time, and so are the Behrs. We may be as busy next month as we were for the Founders’ Day celebrations.’’ She wondered if her days here at Hill House welcoming guests were indeed numbered and shivered when the image of Mr. Langhorne’s hard stare at services on Sunday flashed through her mind.

‘‘I might be recovered by then. I can’t say I’m not looking forward to November when they close the canal and we all slow down a bit,’’ Mother Garrett suggested.

Surprised, Emma turned and met her mother-in-law’s gaze. ‘‘Are you finally admitting that buying Hill House was a good idea?’’ she asked, finding it ironic that Mother Garrett’s change of heart came at a time when Emma might have to admit buying Hill House had been a very bad idea.

Mother Garrett blinked several times, then resumed carving the ham. ‘‘I never said it wasn’t a good idea. I just said I thought you were being hasty. One day you say you’re just looking at this place as an investment. The next morning you’re asking me if I’d mind if you sold the General Store and if I’d move with you to Hill House, which you want to restore and open as a boardinghouse.’’

Reminded yet again of how headstrong she had been about buying Hill House and the possibility that she had made a terrible mistake—one that Mr. Langhorne definitely could use to his advantage—Emma turned back to her task and kept her worries to herself, rather than burden her mother-in-law. ‘‘The Lord opens the path He’s chosen for us in mysterious ways,’’ she whispered. ‘‘I’m still awed by how quickly and simply I was led down the path to Hill House,’’ Emma replied, though she realized she may have simply forged ahead to get what she wanted instead of waiting to be sure this was where He wanted her to be.