Home to Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 3) (4 page)

Chapter Eight

    
 
T
imothy Elgerson walked along the road to the Vancouver house in the brisk afternoon sunlight. Snow covered the road and hung in heavy wet clumps on the branches of the pines silhouetted against a vibrant blue sky. He recognized the prints of a fox that had crossed the road earlier that morning and he stopped and walked into the woods several feet to examine a moose antler dropped in the underbrush. The antler would have been shed right after the mating season and he noticed that it appeared to have come from a large healthy buck.

      His mind drifted to a time he had spent hunting with his son. He recalled having taken him out after months of target practice and a hundred shattered bottles and apples nailed to stakes. He was proud and pleased how quickly and accurately the boy had learned to fire the weapon. That season Mark had brought down a large mallard. It was the first time he had seen the boy smile since he had lost his mother. Timothy could envision his son clearly in his mind. He was lanky, his hands and feet awkwardly large on his lean body. His hair had fallen down into his face as he knelt into the swampy mud to retrieve his target. When he looked up he tossed his hair back with a shake of his head revealing a brilliant smile, his face the picture of pride.

      Timothy had stopped in the center of the road, caught in his reminiscences. In his mind there were flashes of all kinds of memories from happy moments to those when he had felt exasperated. When his son returned, he vowed, he’d find a way to understand him a little better.

      Timothy’s thoughts began to yield to the present as he turned onto the path to the house. As he emerged from the trees a solid, wet snowball hit him square in the thigh with a loud splat.

      The woodpile beside the shed erupted with the giggles of children and Timothy caught a glimpse of his young son Philip peeking from behind the stacks of firewood.

      “Where did that snowball come from?” he bellowed loudly. He turned his back to the woodpile and held his hands up as if confused.

      A flurry of snowballs flew in his direction, most falling short of their target and he turned slowly and looked around dramatically.

      The woodpile erupted into giggles once again.

      He turned his back to the pile again, but this time a large ball hit him hard in the back of the head and he knew that not only children were lurking behind the stacks.

      He spotted a neat drift of snow behind a stand of pine and ran towards it. There he assembled a small arsenal of snowballs and then waited.

      As he expected, the children began to emerge from their place of cover cautiously, hiding behind one another. Louisa, being the eldest, soon became cover for the two younger boys and the three snuck out into the clearing next to the house.

      Roland circled around to the west and situated himself behind a tangle of wild berry bushes where he had piled snowballs earlier. He could see Tim clearly, packing snowballs, and he waited.

      As the children neared him, Timothy began tossing balls at them and they squealed and scattered in all directions, slipping on the snow and giggling in playful terror.

      Roland waited. Timothy threw snowballs in rapid fire and as soon as Roland could see that his stash was depleted he stood up and pelted his friend aggressively.

      The children burst into cheers, yelling loudly and egging him on.

      “Get him!” Louisa screeched, laughing loudly.

      “What the…” Timothy Elgerson roared.

      “Daddy, daddy!” Phillip yelled, hopping and flapping his arms. Ottland was so excited he ran in circles and then flopped down into the snow.

      Timothy began packing more balls and retaliating as quickly as he could, but Roland’s brusque attack was covering him in wet snow.

      The hollering in the yard alarmed Emma and she walked out onto the porch through the back door to find the grown men embattled in their snowball fight and she shook her head.

      “Look out, Cousin Emma!” Louisa screamed as a large snowball exploded against the wall beside her. She ducked back inside and hurried to the window to watch the skirmish.

      Timothy was completely covered in the shattered snowballs and he stood up, bellowed and pounded his chest and the children screamed and scattered. He ran full force through the woodland and lunged towards Roland who stepped aside quickly and Timothy plopped into the snow.

      “Argh!” Timothy thundered. “You have all turned on me!”

      Roland stood with his hands on his hips and bent forward from the waist trying to catch his breath.

      The children ran across the yard, jumping on Timothy and covering him with more snow, all laughing hard as he roared and began tickling them. When he stood up they fell into the snow pile and he shook his head, scattering snow onto all of them and they screamed and covered their faces.

     “Everyone inside!” Emma called from the porch. “You are all soaking wet! You two as well,” she scolded the men.

      The mudroom was soon piled deep in wet boots and the big stove covered in soaked mittens and wool hats. The group gathered in the warmth of the big kitchen sipping steaming mugs of hot chocolate, teasing one another lovingly and discussing future battles.

Chapter Nine

    
 
M
ark threw up his hands in frustration. The figures in the book seemed to mock him and he slammed the ledger closed.

      Samuel looked up and frowned.

      “Come on, Mark. We’ll just ride up and have a little drink. If you don’t like that girl then just tell her. She’s not their sister or anything. She shouldn’t stop us from having fun. We’ve been working for days and we deserve a little time to relax.”

      Mark sighed and wished there was something else more enjoyable to do in Barite, Missouri.

      Mark left his gun in the room at the boarding house and they walked to the stables and rented two horses.

      When they reached the clearing Sam called out for Buck and the two young men waited. Mark sniffed the air and noticed that he did not catch the scent of the fire in the air.

      “Maybe they’re not up here,” he conjectured.

      Sam sighed dejectedly. “Let’s wait a bit longer.”

       After several minutes they decided to head back down into town but, as they began to ride away, Buck emerged from the woodland and stopped suddenly.

      “Oh.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “You boys been here long?”

      “Not very,” Samuel smiled. “We were just about to give up on you and head back to town.”

      “I shut the still down for a bit.” Buck shifted his weight from side to side nervously. “Sometimes it’s a good idea to let it cool down for a while. Maybe next week you can come back.”

      Mark watched the man closely. His hands were glistening and it appeared as if his pants were wet to mid-calf.

      “Oh.” Buck saw the concern on Mark’s face. “I slipped into the creek. See? It’s just as well I shut it down for a bit, eh?” He chuckled nervously. “I can’t even walk right,” he laughed.

      Mark nodded and Sam smiled.

      “Well, since we can’t drink, why don’t you come down and have something to eat with us?” Samuel offered.

      Mark looked Buck up and down, certain that he likely never ventured into the restaurants in town.

      “You go ahead.” Buck shuffled his feet. “I’ll come get you as soon as I start her up again, alright?”

      Mark nodded and he and Sam headed back down the trail.

      “Did he seem alright to you?” Mark asked as they rode.

      “Sure. Why?” Samuel questioned.     

       “He looked nervous to me,” Mark speculated.

      “He was probably embarrassed that he fell in the creek,” Sam explained.

      Mark nodded silently.

Chapter Ten

     
R
oland stepped out of the bank, nodded to Timothy and then mounted his horse. The two men rode slowly through Billington City, nodding at an occasional passerby, and turned onto the road towards the Weintraub ranch.

      When they reached the lane to the property they could see the land spread out beneath them, the auctioneer’s wagon parked alongside the largest barn and a small group of men milling around inspecting the buildings.

      The two men knew the ranch well and they needed no inspection. They took notice of the prospective bidders and waited as a small crowd gathered.

      These were men that Timothy and Roland recognized as local ranchers, men that would likely use the land for grazing and a place to keep their stock. They all had large ranches on the other side of town that were going concerns and it was unlikely they would move their business operations to this location. One had only a few animals that everyone knew were not well kept. Roland did not want to see the ranch go to any of them. Diana had worked the ranch as a thriving business up until the last few years and it was once well kept and had an exemplary reputation. Until she had become obsessed with marrying off Octavia she had been a fine neighbor and a respected businessperson.

      Roland often wondered what had gone through her mind. Her horses were the finest stock and she earned a more than comfortable income for herself and her daughter, even enough to support other members of her family, yet she had compromised it all. She had allowed the ranch to go to ruin while traveling around the world trying to find the right charm teacher, the perfect piano instructor, the most refined speech professor to make her daughter into something she would never be. Both Diana and her daughter were horsewomen and certainly respectable, but Diana had decided to make Octavia into a refined lady. It had cost them everything. Once, when he and Timothy had spoken about it, he saw the sadness in the big man’s eyes and knew that he still faced struggles within himself for forgiveness. Roland had decided then that he would purchase the ranch. There was something there he wanted to do for Timothy, and buying the ranch would be the beginning.

      Once the bidders had gathered at the wagon the auctioneer began reading off the information about the land. He read that the ranch was just under 200 acres, 189 to be exact. He defined the land’s boundaries, three sides being bounded by Elgerson property and one by Vancouver. The bidding commenced once it was determined that there were no questions and concluded when the top bid, that of Roland Vancouver, was made at two thousand dollars.

      Roland completed his deposit to the auctioneer and Timothy shook his hand.

      The new ranch owner looked over the land from the rise on the hill as the men rode out. In the morning the house would be razed and restoration of the barns would begin. Both Roland and Timothy would rest easier with the building gone and Jude Thomas no longer having any rights to the property. Roland could imagine what the land would look like someday, once his plans were completed. He could see a big home where the crumbling house now stood and fine horses in the fields.

      He nodded with satisfaction and the two men headed home.

      “The place is ours,” he announced in the kitchen at home as he hung his hat on the peg by the door.”

      Emma smiled at him with love in her eyes. “It was such a wonderful idea to buy it. Timothy will be so happy. It’s a good thing you’re doing, Roland.” She walked across the room and kissed him lovingly.

      “How did it go?” Rebecca set her knitting on the side table at Stavewood and greeted her husband.

      “It’s Roland’s now.” Timothy stood in front of the roaring fire in the parlor and warmed his hands.

      “Is he going to use it?”

      “I don’t think so. I think he just wants it because it’s close to his place and he wants that house down. After we found out that the man who attacked his wife had been staying out there, I guess he wanted to take it over. I can’t say that I blame him. If he didn’t seem to want it so bad I would have thought about it myself.”

      “Well,” she crossed the room and stood beside him. “I think we have plenty of room right here at Stavewood.”

      “You think so?” He looked down at her and watched the reflection of the fire flickering in her emerald eyes.

      “We have room for you and me, and Mark when he comes home, and Louisa and little Phillip. And I think we could fit in at least one more,” she smiled.

      “One more?” He lifted a brow.

      “Yes, the one that’s coming in August.”

      Timothy pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head. He could feel her fit against him the way she always seemed to, as if he were only a part of something until she was close to him.

      He looked down into her eyes and kissed her warmly and she slipped her hands around his neck.