Emmeline, Bride of Arkansas

by Carra Copelin

  “Dear, sweet, Emmeline, I would never laugh at you,” Laurel said, as she reached for Emmeline and pulled her into an embrace. “Circumstances have thrown you into a new and strange situation for which you are completely unprepared. I wouldn’t consider forcing you to fit in here, but if you truly want to learn, I will teach you all I know.”

  Emmeline contemplated, briefly, the task of learning and fitting into a different lifestyle. Could she do it?

  “Sister, I know I’ve been stubborn, selfish, and sometimes childish.” When Laurel put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile, it sparked Emmeline’s temper a bit. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m serious about wanting to help you.”

  “Of that much, I’ve no doubts,” she assured. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a folded piece of cloth. “Here, we might as well get started. Take this and run it along the line to make sure it’s clean before you hang the clothes from it.”

  She did as instructed, and then observed Laurel as she hung a shirt and pair of pants belonging to Griffin. “Those are huge.”

  “Believe it or not, Linc’s clothes are larger.”

  “Laurel! How would you know that?”

  “I did his laundry, while he recuperated, last year. When I ironed his shirts, I remember thinking they were the size of wagon covers.”

  “Golly.”

  While Laurel’s description exaggerated the size – she’d seen pictures of covered wagons in school – she’d also seen the shoulders of the handsome lumberman and agreed they were quite broad. She found she was curious to know what those shoulders looked like and her fingers itched to know if they were as muscular as they appeared. She bowed her head, realizing her thoughts were most shameful and her mother would be appalled.

  “Emmeline?”

  Hearing her name, she let the image of Linc’s muscular shoulders slip away and focused on her sister. “Yes?”

  “Where did you go?”

  Feeling the heat in her cheeks at being caught fantasizing in broad daylight, she cleared her throat and answered, “N-n-nowhere, I’m right here.”

  “Hmm, I wonder . . . anyway,” Laurel continued, “We need to introduce you to everyone at the mill and Flat Rock Point, and I know the perfect way to do so.” She placed the last wooden pin on the final garment and said, “Come on in the house and help me get the girls ready.”

  “Why? What are we doing?”

  “We’re going into town, to talk to some of my friends about putting together a picnic. We could have it at the new park just south of town.”

  “If it’s all right, may I pick up a few things at the mercantile while we’re there?”

  “Of course, I have a list of my own.”

  By the time, they reached the small town of Flat Rock Point, it was mid-afternoon. Emmeline was impressed at the way Laurel, a former member of Philadelphia society herself, handled the wagon and horses. Would she ever learn to do this? It certainly didn’t look all that difficult. Perhaps, one day, she’d give it a try.

  Jasper Dunlevey met them as they stopped outside the livery. “Laurel, Miss Emmeline, Misses’ Coral and Josie,” he greeted them. “What are you ladies up to this afternoon?”

  “We’re doing some shopping, and I want to visit with Tildie.”

  “I believe you’ll find her and a few of the ladies at the Hotel. My Agnes said they were getting together for tea and a game of Bridge this afternoon.”

  “Good,” Laurel said. She took hold of Josie’s hand. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours. Come along, girls.”

  Emmeline noticed, even with the one or two stores added since she’d visited two years ago, the town looked the same. She found that comforting, as Philadelphia seemed to change, in some way, every day. She also liked the closeness and sense of family that she felt.

  As they made their way toward the Bradford Hotel, on the planked walkway, she asked, “So, Tildie. She’s the preacher’s wife?”

  “Yes, she was a witness at mine and Griffin’s wedding. My very first acquaintance here, she took me under her wing, so to speak.”

  “I remember her.” Emmeline smiled, remembering their first meeting last Christmas. “There’s something about her makes me think of Aunt Lottie.”

  Laurel glanced over at her. “Really?”

  “Yes, certainly not in her looks, but because she’s so friendly and eager to help.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it, but possibly. Here we are.” Laurel opened the front door to the hotel and ushered the girls in ahead of her, as she stepped into the lobby.

  Emmeline followed them inside. She looked around and immediately felt a warm and comforting atmosphere. The furnishings, rugs, and velvet drapes were most surely worn, but the deep magenta and green hues, of the patterns, offered a sense of welcome.

  Female chatter drew her attention to the dining room. When they entered, they found four women seated at a table in a far corner of the room. Tea cups and dessert plates occupied the surface of the table along with playing cards.

  Tildie Waggoner stood to greet them. “Laurel, it’s good to see you. Hello, my sweet babies!”

  Coral frowned and replied, “I’m not a baby, Aunt Tildie. I’m seven.”

  “Don’t I know it.” She cupped Coral’s chin. “You make me feel older each day.”

  “That’s makes two of us,” Laurel agreed. “Emmeline, this is Georgia Dunlevey, Agnes Bradford, Polly Baker, and, Of course, you remember, Tildie Waggoner. Ladies, my sister, Emmeline Weidner.”

  She nodded and shook hands with them. While they wore no fine dresses or jewels, like her friends back home, their smiles, and greetings were warm and genuine. Some of the women she knew back east could give one frostbite.

  “It’s so nice to meet all of you. I’m looking forward to my visit here.”

  The one called, Polly, who looked closer to her own age of twenty, asked, “How long will you be staying?”

  “I-I don’t have definite plans yet,” she answered, wondering how much more she needed to say.

  Laurel seemed to sense her hesitation. “We hope to keep her here, at least, until our family comes for Christmas.”

  “Oh, lovely,” the young woman said, smiling broadly.

  “In the meantime,” Laurel said, “I wanted to talk to you about having a picnic as an end of summer celebration and welcome for Emmeline and the new loggers who have come here recently. What do you think?”

  “Why don’t we incorporate it into the annual picnic for the loggers?” Tildie suggested.

  “What a marvelous idea.” Agnes Bradford clasped her hands together. “Aaron and I will contribute the beef. As a couple of the men are residents here at the hotel, he’ll be happy to.” She stood, gathered the cards, and dishes. “Wait here, while I get paper, pencil, and lemonade. We’ll start planning right away.”

  Excitement began to build in Emmeline for she loved a good party. She’d started thinking of the dress she would wear, when a man dressed in rugged outdoor clothing, entered the dining room. Her heart kicked up an extra beat when he stared at her. It was only for a second or two, before he disappeared into the kitchen, but his silent scrutiny was so intense, it almost felt as if he’d touched her. She felt completely exposed, like he’d seen her without her chemise and drawers.

  She leaned over and asked Polly, “Who was that?”

  “He’s one of the new loggers, Thatcher Whiteaker. Isn’t he handsome? I swear if I wasn’t already married, why I’d—”

  “Polly Baker!” Georgia said, shaking her head. “You know you’re head over heels for Avery.”

  “Yes, I am,” Polly countered. “But I still have eyes and great amounts of appreciation for a fine-looking man.”

  Emmeline laughed with them at their joking, stopping short as the man walked back through the dining room and out through the lobby, onto the street. He’d, again, given her that knowing gaze. She was both appalled and intrigued by his boldness, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d see
him at the picnic.

  Agnes followed close behind with a tray of lemonade, glasses, and cookies for the girls. Georgia took charge of the list making, and within a half an hour, they were on their way to having an organized picnic.

  Before the girls got too fidgety, they left the hotel and headed to the mercantile. After making their purchases, Mr. Babcock arranged to have the packages sent to the livery.

  “You know,” Laurel said, as they stood on the walkway, “It’s getting late, and I don’t have any dinner prepared. I think we’ll splurge and take something home from the diner.”

  “You can do that?” Emmeline had eaten out in restaurants, but never had anyone dared to bring food in. Their cook had always served their meals promptly at the designated times set by her father. “Griffin will allow you to do that?”

  “Well, this will be the first time I’ve done it, but as long as he gets fed, I imagine he won’t be too grumpy.”

  An hour and a half later, Laurel drew back on the reins, halting the horses in front of the house. Emmeline jumped down and walked to the back of the wagon to lift the girls out, but she found them both sound asleep. Griffin’s voice caught her attention as he and Linc came out onto the porch.

  “Here you are!” he said.

  “I left you a note, so you wouldn’t worry. Didn’t you see it?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think you’d be gone this long.” He met Laurel at the wagon, lifted her into his arms, and then, turned at the bottom step. “Linc, will you help Emmeline?”

  “I will.”

  Walking up the steps, Griffin asked, “Now, mother of my child, what took you so long?”

  Emmeline watched her brother-in-law carry his wife into the house, as she told him about their day. The sight pleased her, yet left her wondering if she would ever have someone to care for her.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Those two are really in love.”

  She jumped at Linc’s voice beside her ear. She been so wrapped up in her own musings, she hadn’t realized he stood beside her. Wistfully, she answered, “Yes, they are.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Of course, not!” She whipped around to glare at him, He grinned and reached around her to unload the cargo. “That’s a nasty thing to say. You must be more miserable than I thought to be so mean.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she ignored him, and went to wake the girls and get them into the house.

  Coral went inside by herself, and as Emmeline walked past him while carrying Josie, he stopped her with his hand on her arm.

  “Emmeline?”

  “Yes, Mr. Bass?”

  “So, we’re back to that, are we?”

  “What do you want? I need to get Josie inside.”

  “I’m sorry for my remark.” He glanced at his boots and then, toward the house. “I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it is about you that brings out the worst in me.”

  “I’d be interested in knowing what that trait is, as well. Until you decide, I’m going to assume you’re the one with the problem.” She moved past him and said, over her shoulder, “By the way, dinner is in that large box. It would be nice to eat it while it’s still warm.”

  She sat Josie on the settee beside Coral. She, then, removed her hat and jacket, and began to set the table.

  Griffin came into the dining room, with his daughters, as Linc put the box from the diner on the sideboard.

  “Emmeline, would you fix a plate for Laurel, and take care of Coral and Josie for the evening?”

  Yes, of course, is Laurel unwell?”

  “She’s fine, just tired. I’ve convinced her to stay in bed until the morning.” He tucked napkins in the necks of the girls’ dresses, and kissed them on the tops of their heads. “You two be good for Auntie Em and Uncle Linc, all right?”

  “Yes, Papa,” they answered in unison.

  She handed Griffin a tray with enough food for him and Laurel, and then, turned back to find Linc setting filled plates in front of her nieces. They ate in companionable silence, except for the girls telling him about their travels earlier in the day. When they began to nod over the remnants of their dinner, she excused herself, took them to the bathroom, and then on up to bed.

  With the girls clean and in their nightgowns, she tucked them in and laid down beside them. Josie was already snoring softly, when Coral asked, “Auntie Em, is Mama sick?”

  “No, sweetheart, she’s just tired. She’ll be all rested tomorrow.” She cuddled Coral close and said, “Why don’t we close our eyes, too, and drift on a cloud to dreamland?” No sooner had the words left her lips than she realized Coral had already joined her sister.

  She smiled remembering how childish she thought the phrase, when her mother had said it to her and her own sisters. It didn’t seem childish now. Her lids closed. She thought she should go to her own room and prepare for bed, but she was too comfortable to move. Just before she joined her nieces on that cloud, Lincoln Bass floated past her.

  “You’re jealous,” he taunted. “That’s my room.”

  She jerked herself awake, when she felt like she was falling. The silly man was now invading her dreams. Even there, he thought her addle-brained and childish. But why did she care about what Lincoln Bass thought of her? In her mind, he was the one with the problems and he was projecting them onto her.

  There had to be more to him than she was seeing, but she had no idea what it could be and, if neither of them changed their attitudes, she never would. Perhaps, she, as the woman, should concede and try to find out what was in his past, besides the accident. Yes, that’s what she’d do. Tomorrow.

  Early the next morning, Emmeline knocked on Linc’s bedroom door. She couldn’t remember exactly when last night, but she’d decided to make peace. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot and she intended to be the one to forgive and forget. When there was no answer, she knocked again.

  “Mr. Bass? Lincoln?” Silence greeted her query.

  Laurel called out to her from the second floor. “Emmeline, Linc isn’t here. He and Griffin left before sunrise this morning for the mill.”

  “I see.” She joined her sister on the lower level. “I’ll talk to him later.”

  “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No, we have some unfinished business is all. How are you feeling this morning, Sister?”

  “Good!”

  She took Laurel’s arm and steered her to the set of stairs leading to the ground floor. She could tell from the curious look she received, Laurel wanted to ask more questions, but being a member of the closed-mouth, tight-lipped Weidner family, she didn’t. Thank heavens.

  “So, tell me, sister, what will you teach me today?”

  5

  L inc swiped at the sweat running from his forehead to the bridge of his nose with the sleeve covering his forearm. Already saturated from previous attempts, the material did little to soak up any additional wetness. With the sun up, and the heat rising exponentially, the morning was stifling, even outside in the shade of the office building.

  Hopefully, he wouldn’t be waiting much longer. Ansel Hailstock, the foreman, was on his way to the office with another recent hire, Thatcher Whiteaker. Before he got too deep into his investigation for Griffin, he wanted to know all he could find out about the employees of Sealy Lumber Mill.

  Most of the loggers were long-time employees of Sealy Lumber and therefore not in question. It was the newest ones he wanted to know more about. Tolbert, or Smoke, as he preferred to be called, had regaled Griffin and his men with stories of his bravery. The last one, if it were to be believed, placed him at hero status. Unfortunately, Linc needed more than a braggart’s tale for proof. Luckily, this morning over coffee, Tolbert had talked about two or three mills where he had rescued the businesses in one way or another.

  The other gentleman just turned up looking for a job one day, only naming his last employer. Later, this afternoon, he planned to head in to town to send telegrams to the previous employers of Tolb
ert and Whiteaker.

  While he sat there with sweat running into his boots, that damnable woman elbowed her way into his thoughts. Emmeline Weidner raised his temperature and his hackles, unfortunately, at the same time, and he was completely incapable of separating the two. He had no control of his thoughts, or apparently his tongue, where she was concerned. Probably because he thought her a spoiled, selfish child, who was nothing like her sister. Could she ever be?

  He had almost knocked on her door this morning to tell her, again, he was sorry for speaking to her so rudely. At the last minute, Griffin had stepped into the hallway, from his own bedroom, and kept him from making that mistake.

  Men’s voices brought him back to the present. He would have to tuck Miss Weidner away until a more convenient time. He pushed away from the wall of the building and greeted the two men.

  “Hello, Ansel!” He shook hands with his friend.

  “Linc, it’s good to have you back.” Ansel Hailstock clapped him on the back and said, “This here’s Thatcher Whiteaker.”

  “Linc Bass. Pleased to meet you,” he said. “Where’re you from?”

  “North Arkansas,” the man answered. “Up around Izard County.”

  Linc nodded. “That area’s a big supplier of yellow pine. What brings you down to this neck of the woods, so to speak?”

  “I had a hankering to see this part of the state.”

  “Any relation to the Thatcher’s who own Thatcher Mills?”

  “Distant cousins,” he said with an edge to his tone. “You know, this sounds a lot like an interrogation to me. If you’ve changed your minds about hiring me, just say so. I’ll hit the road.”

  “No, you’re hired.” Linc chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I like to know about the men I’m working with. Sometimes, I go a little over the top.”

  “Is there anything else, then?”

  “Nope, I have all I need for now. How about you?”

  The man gave him the once over, like he was sizing him up. Finally, he said, “I guess I need to know who I’m working for. Who gives the orders around here?”