Emmeline, Bride of Arkansas

by Carra Copelin

  “No, Papa, it’s only Mama and Auntie Em cooking supper.”

  “Well, it sounds like the hens are having a party.” Linc chimed in.

  Griffin looked over his shoulder. “Come on Linc, let’s see what’s going on.”

  Linc grinned as Coral pulled on her father’s free hand to lead him into the dining room. The large lumberman followed the small child who barely reached his waist. “Mama said you and Uncle Linc are s’posed wait in here until she brings out the supper.”

  The table was set with a bowl each of mashed potatoes and green beans. He helped Griffin settle the girls at the table, noticing for the first time, there was a fine dusting of a white substance across their small noses and shoulders. He glanced up as the female voices entered the room. The sight that greeted him was interesting to say the least.

  Emmeline held a plate in each hand, one with fried chicken, the other with biscuits, while Laurel carried a bowl of gravy. Both looked as if they’d been in the oven with the biscuits and were also covered in the same white substance. He realized the powder was flour, when he saw bits of dough in their hair. Damp curls clung to Emmeline’s face.

  What, the heck, had gone on in that kitchen?

  3

  E mmeline elbowed her sister, doing her best to keep a straight face. She was hot and sticky from their frivolity, but glad to have had some fun. It had been so long since she’d let her hair down, so to speak, and it felt good. Unfortunately, that man, Mr. Bass, was present, but she’d do her best not to let him dampen her good mood.

  They set the food on the table, then Laurel cleared her throat and announced, “Dinner is served. Everyone, please enjoy.”

  From his place at the head of the table, Griffin picked up the plate of chicken, took a thigh, and passed the plate to his right. “Ladies, this looks delicious.”

  “I’ll say.” Mr. Bass took the hand-off, adding, “I haven’t had a home cooked meal since I left here.”

  That was it? That’s all they had to say? How long were they going to ignore their state of dishevelment? Emmeline didn’t have a mirror handy, but Laurel’s appearance alone deserved a comment. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to wait.

  “Aren’t either of you curious about what happened in the kitchen?”

  Laurel took hold of her hand, shook her head no, and said, “Emmeline, would you hand me the green beans?”

  “But . . .”

  “Help me fix the girls’ plates, please.”

  “I just thought . . .” She returned Laurel’s pointed look, and then filled a plate for Coral, as Laurel fixed one for Josie. Her sister was avoiding the whole episode, darn her hide.

  “There you are, girls. Now don’t dawdle, Auntie Em and I still have to clean the kitchen, and then get you both ready for bed.”

  She should be embarrassed over her childish actions with Laurel, but she wasn’t. They had acted silly, but she enjoyed connecting with her sister in a way they hadn’t experienced since they were young girls, like Coral and Josie.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the knowing glances and suppressed smiles that passed between Griffin and Mr. Bass. Good. At least, they were aware or suspected something had gone on in the kitchen besides cooking, and for some reason that pleased her.

  Laurel, at least for their guest’s sake, she assumed, was wanting to keep their actions under wraps. Well, that was all right with her. She could do that. Later, though, one of them, and she had a pretty good guess which one, was going to pay for that “hen ” remark.

  After supper, with the dishes washed and put away, and the stove readied for tomorrow morning’s breakfast, she followed Laurel into the living room. The rest of the kitchen would need a thorough dusting to remove remnants of their flour fight, but that could wait until tomorrow. The men lounged on the settee, each with a little girl on their lap. Josie was already asleep and Coral’s eyes were half closed.

  Laurel spoke to Griffin, “Why don’t you and I take the girls up to bed?”

  “Emmeline, do you or Lincoln mind? We won’t be long.”

  “Of course not,” she answered, cutting a glance in Mr. Bass’s direction. “I’m pretty tired, I may go up as well.”

  “I’d like it if you’d stay a while and keep me company,” Linc said, surprising her.

  She thought over his request. She really did want to find out if her initial assessment was correct. Did he actually think he was God’s gift to women? And then, there was that “hen ” remark.

  “All right, I’ll stay for a while. I’ll even try to be civil.”

  Laurel’s eyes narrowed in warning, but she said, “Good, we won’t be long.”

  Linc stood and reached for her hand. “Shall we go out to the porch and try to catch an evening breeze?”

  “Yes, I’d like that, Mr. Bass, thank you,” she said, leading him out the door. It didn’t cost her anything to be civil. The air was nicer outside and the sky was full of stars, and she was, after all, in her sister’s home.

  “This is much better,” she said, once they were standing in the yard. She bent to pick a wildflower and sniffed its light, lemony fragrance. “The house is stifling and has an aroma of old chicken grease.”

  “You’re right, it never smells as good after supper, as it does before.” He turned over a couple of stumps nearby for them to sit on. He held her hand to steady her as she sat, then winced as he joined her on the opposite stump. “It’s good you could visit your sister.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing, Miss Weidner, other than Laurel has quite a few close friends here, but she enjoys having her family visit from back east.” He looked her over, as if considering. “Seems to me you’re a might touchy.”

  “I apologize, Mr. Bass, but if you’d had my spring and summer . . .”

  “I’m a good listener, if you’d care to talk about it.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “Very boring, not of any real interest, except to the parties involved.” While she wasn’t willing to share any details about her tragic circumstances, she had noticed how he’d favored his right leg through the evening, and decided to ask about his injury.

  “Mr. Bass, If I’m not too bold, may I inquire as to how you came to injure your leg?”

  He glanced toward the house. “I would have assumed you’d already been told.”

  “To be honest, I did ask Laurel earlier this afternoon, but she said it was your story to tell.”

  “I appreciate that, though it’s no secret. It’s just hard to talk about because the memories are still fresh.”

  Sensing his obvious distress, she was suddenly sorry she’d intruded on his privacy. “I apologize, Mr. Bass, you don’t owe me an explanation. Please forget I asked.”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “My doctor says the more I talk about the accident, the sooner I’ll put it behind me. There’s just one thing I’d like to ask of you.”

  “Of course, what is it?”

  “When I’ve finished, I’d like it if you’d call me Linc.”

  “Hmmm, maybe. I seem to have developed a reputation for being difficult and I’d hate to jeopardize that.”

  He studied her for a minute, chuckled softly. “Understood. A reputation is hard to maintain once achieved.”

  He’d obviously suffered a serious accident, and she had the feeling it would cost him greatly to tell her about it. For that, he deserved her undivided attention. Smiling, she said, “Proceed.”

  Linc still wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about the incident that had come close to claiming his right leg, not to mention his life. He had discussed it with Griffin and Henry Sealy. Griffin had been there that day, and his quick reactions, had saved his leg. It was normal to work through the trauma with the men who employed him and who were good friends, but why this woman? What was it about her that compelled him to share his darkest fear?

  He breathed deeply and began, “A year ago, this month, we were felling dead or dying trees that had the potenti
al to put certain areas in danger. One was located just the other side of the house.” He didn’t look but lifted his head in the general direction, so she’d know where he meant. “We got all set up, made the initial cuts, double checked the angles, and then made the final cut. All was going well, when I looked out to see Josie picking flowers.”

  “Oh, no,” Emmeline whispered, as she covered her mouth with her hand. “You ran to save her.”

  “Griffin and I both ran toward her. I reached her first, but after I grabbed her, I tripped over a large log. At the last second, I tossed her to him and they barely escaped.”

  She reached over and placed her hand over his. “Thank God you were there, Lincoln. That sweet baby might have died.”

  Suddenly, his chest seized. He took in great gulps of air, yet he couldn’t breathe. His hands tingled like they’d been asleep and were waking up. He was afraid if he stood, either he would pass out or his legs wouldn’t support him.

  In seconds, Emmeline’s arms were around his shoulders, her words as soothing as her touch. “It’s all right, Linc, breathe slowly. You’re taking in too much air, you have to slow down your breathing.”

  He started to feel better in another minute or two and sat straighter on the stump. He supposed later he’d be embarrassed, but at this moment he was touched by her tenderness and caring.

  “Thank you, Miss Weidner. I apologize for my weakness.”

  He obviously had never met Malcolm Trasker or he wouldn’t be apologizing. She looked up and said, “Next to my father, you may be one of the strongest men I’ve ever known.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know anything about that, but I do know I need to walk you back to the house before the damp of the evening gives you a chill.”

  “I’ll take myself in. I’ll see you in the morning, all right?”

  “Good night, Miss Weidner.”

  She leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek. Before she headed toward the house, she turned and said, “Oh, and Linc? Call me Emmeline.”

  Early the next morning, Emmeline awoke to the sounds of giggling little girls standing beside her bed. She tried hard to focus, but she was groggy from dreaming all night about a certain Arkansas lumberman. She scooted up against her pillow, wiped the sleep from the corners of her eyes, and motioned for Coral and Josie to climb beneath the covers beside her.

  She heard Laurel in the next room saying, “Girls don’t wake Auntie Em, she’s . . .” Her voice trailed off and she peeked through the doorway. “Oh, too late, sorry.”

  “It’s all right. This reminds me of the times Adeline and I would crawl into bed with you.” She grinned, remembering how Laurel had always welcomed them with hugs. “I’m sure Addie and I were just as sweet as these two.”

  “Well, these little cuties have nudged you out of first place,” she said, climbing in beside them to snuggle. “But, I’d say you’re a pretty close second.”

  “So, this is the thanks I get for letting you sleep in, while I cook your breakfast?”

  Emmeline nearly jumped out of bed at the sound of Griffin’s voice at her door. She pulled the embroidered top sheet up to her chin, waiting for Laurel to answer him.

  Laurel gave him a mischievous look and said, “I’m afraid you have a room full of indolent females, sir. Is breakfast served?”

  “I had in mind to serve yours in bed, but instead, I think you can haul your sweet bustle downstairs with the rest of this lazy bunch.” With two fingers at his brow, he gave a mock salute, winked at his wife, and added, “Ladies, don’t let the biscuits get cold.”

  The girls and Laurel were already dressed, so she hurried to make herself presentable. While she dressed, she made small talk with her sister.

  “So, sleeping in and breakfast in bed,” she said, lifting the brow over her left eye. “How do you rate that?”

  “I gave him some news last night. I guess he was appreciative.”

  “That must have been some news.”

  “Griffin thought so.” She glanced over her shoulder and said, “Girls, why don’t you go make sure the covers are pulled up on your bed?”

  Coral and Josie hopped down, and responded, “Yes, ma’am”, and raced from the room.

  When Laurel didn’t answer, Emmeline fastened the waist of her skirt, turned, and prompted, “Well, what did you tell him? I might like to borrow it some day?”

  “I told him he’s going to be a Papa again.”

  “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed, grabbing Laurel into a hug. “I’m so happy for you. When are you due?”

  “Maybe Valentine’s Day.”

  “A baby is always so exciting. Did you know while you were in Philadelphia?”

  “The doctor there confirmed the pregnancy for me, but I wanted to tell Griffin first.”

  “Mama will be thrilled.”

  “Which is not what my husband will be if we ruin his breakfast. Shall we go?”

  Later, Emmeline finished her meal and folded her napkin. “Thank you, brother-in-law, your biscuits were delectable.”

  “Not too tough?”

  “Very flaky, I’m thinking Cook would be jealous.” She grinned thinking Cook would forever ban him from the kitchen, so she could keep her job.

  Linc pushed away from the table. He nodded and said, “Thank you, ladies for your company, and my compliments to the chef. I have dined sufficiently.”

  “Thank you.” Griffin downed the last of his coffee. “Are you ready to go to the mill this morning?”

  Laurel took a napkin to Josie’s face, as she spoke, “I thought you were going to take a few days off before you jumped back in with both feet.”

  “I thought about it but reconsidered. I’m here to work and I might as well get to it.”

  4

  L inc climbed out of the wagon in front of the mill office and followed Griffin inside. Everything looked the same as he’d last seen it, the over-sized wooden desk, the three file cabinets lined against one wall, and the open-front cabinet that occupied two-thirds of the adjacent wall, housing the pics, axes, and extinguishers needed to fight a fire. A man, unknown to him, stood in front of an open file drawer.

  “Morning, Smoke.”

  “Hey, mornin’, Griff.”

  “Smoke, this is Lincoln Bass. He’s come down from Little Rock to give us a hand, since Clem and Otto are leaving to go back to school.”

  “You’d mentioned trying to get someone down here.” He put out his hand and said, “Jimerson Tolbert, but everybody calls me Smoke.”

  Linc shook his hand, noticing the severe scarring on his palms, as well as the backs, probably from a fire. “Call me, Linc.”

  The middle-aged man looked at his previous injury, smiled, and said, “Happened a while back. Hazards of the job, if you’re in this business long enough, that is.”

  Linc absent-mindedly ran his hand down his thigh. How much longer were the remembrances going to overtake him?

  “So, you’re the one.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “What?”

  “You’re the one who saved Griff’s little girl.”

  “Nothing any one of us wouldn’t do.”

  “Maybe, but it’s tough looking certain death in the face.”

  “Not for me where another life is concerned.” Talking about all this made him uncomfortable, so he walked over and opened the door. “Griffin, I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

  He breathed deeply as he closed the door behind him. Even though the weather was sultry from the summer heat, the air was clean and refreshing. Despite his issues with the accident, he still much preferred to be outdoors. Go figure. Sometimes, he even confused himself.

  After a few minutes, Griffin came out to meet him. “Let’s go around and reacquaint you with the men. I especially want you to meet the new hires as soon as possible.”

  “Yeah.” Linc agreed with him that the sooner he could gather information to form his opinions, the sooner he could start building files for his investigation. “What h
appened to him?”

  “Smoke? A few years back, he caught one of his men setting a fire behind the mill.”

  “Maybe, eventually, we should compare notes. How did he catch him?”

  “He didn’t. In the process, the arsonist stepped in a puddle of spilled kerosene. By the time he dropped the match, the fumes ignited turning the man into a ball of flames. Smoke got to him, but too late. He couldn’t save him and nearly lost his hands in the bargain.”

  “Talk about fortunate,” Linc commiserated. “That’s tough. He was lucky.”

  “Yes, anyway, he’s taking care of the office for me to give me more time in the field.” Griffin looked back toward the office and waved. “Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Linc didn’t see, but rather felt Smoke staring out from the window behind the front door. It was the kind of feeling that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. When he glanced around, as they started up the trail, no one was at the window. He would file this moment away for study at a future time.

  Emmeline dried the last plate from breakfast and returned it to its place in the cabinet. The flour sack towel she’d used was soaked through, so she took it outside to the clothesline to hang it up. Laurel was already there pinning shirts, and other sundry items she’d washed, to the line.

  While she knew women carried and birthed babies every day, she hadn’t been around any of them. Should Laurel’s activities be limited? She didn’t want her to over-do and tire herself or harm the baby. She also didn’t want her brother-in-law, or anyone else to think her lazy. Though, why that should bother her, she had no idea.

  She approached Laurel, after she’d draped the towel over the line, and asked, “Sister, should you be doing this, in your condition?”

  “What? Everyday household duties?” She grinned. “Why ever not?”

  “Don’t laugh at me. I’ve never been around anyone who was expecting, Mama’s friends are too old and mine, thus far, are too young. I’m worried about you and want to help, if I can.”