“Yes, I was planning on that.” Emmalyne watched her mother take up the cloth in the basin of water. “Mother, I can go to town for Dr. Williams if you can watch over Angus and make the tea.”
“Of course I can. Go.” Her mother frowned and shook her head. “I wish we had an extra horse. You’ll be hard-pressed to walk all the way.”
“Don’t be worried about that, Mother. I can go quite fast.” Emmalyne began to doubt her mother’s ability to tend the situation. “Are you certain you want me to go? You’ve not been well yourself.”
“I’m fine. Your brother needs me.” She wiped the cloth over Angus’s face. “Just hurry.”
With little thought to her appearance, Emmalyne threw off her apron on the way out the front door and hiked up her skirts to run. She made it to the first turn before having to slow to a walk. Breathless, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take her to make the journey to town.
She prayed that she would remember the way, then added another request, as well. “Lord, I could sure use a little help here. A ride would be wonderful, or maybe you could just have Dr. Williams come along about now.” She looked down the long road, but saw no one. A light breeze touched her damp skin but did little to cool her. The sun overhead heated the humid air, making it heavy and difficult to breathe.
Her hair loosened from the run, Emmalyne wished she’d thought to don a bonnet. She tended to the mass falling around her shoulders as she walked, her fingers working with quick, nimble grace to secure the pins. “Lord, you could at least put the sun behind a cloud,” she suggested, looking skyward.
With her hair in better order, Emmalyne put her mind back on the reason for her trip. She knew measles could be deadly, particularly for an adult, and the thought of losing her brother was unbearable. “Lord, I was kind of selfish in my earlier prayers. Please heal my brother. Lord, the measles are a terrible thing, as you well know. Please help him—don’t let him die.”
She was murmuring the latter part of her prayer over and over when a distant sound caused her to look over her shoulder. An older man sat atop a buckboard with milk cans lined up behind him. Emmalyne waved him down, and he drew the single roan to a stop.
“Could you please give me a ride into town?” she asked.
“Oh sure,” he said with a smile. “You betcha.”
Emmalyne climbed up quickly lest the man change his mind. “I need to find Dr. Williams’s office. Do you know him?”
“Ja,” the man said, nodding. “He’s that young fella what works with old Dr. Schultz. He saw my wife a few weeks back. He’s a good man.”
Emmalyne breathed a sigh of relief. “My brother is sick, and I need to get the doctor as quickly as possible.”
“Ja, I know just the place.” The man flicked the reins. “Old Nellie will getcha there in a quick minute. My Nellie is old but sturdy. She’s been pulling the milk to town for nigh twenty-two years.” The man rattled on about his horse, but Emmalyne couldn’t focus on the words.
Nearly twenty “quick” but awfully long minutes later, Emmalyne found herself ushered into the doctor’s waiting room by a stern-looking older woman dressed head to toe in black. “The doctors are with a patient, but should be out soon.”
“But I can’t wait. Please, my brother is very ill, and I need Dr. Williams to come back to the house with me . . . immediately. Please.”
The woman frowned. “And what is your name?”
“Emmalyne Knox. Please tell him that Angus Knox has collapsed, and I think he has the measles.”
The woman continued to look at her for a moment, then nodded and disappeared into another room. Emmalyne paced the small entry and wondered how her mother was faring. Had it been foolish to leave her with such a grave task?
“Miss Knox, how nice to see you again,” Dr. Williams said as he entered the room several minutes later. He wore no coat and was rolling his shirt sleeves back down. “I apologize for my attire. We were doing a bit of surgery.”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but my brother is quite ill. Mother is with him, but if you could come to the house as soon as possible . . .”
“Of course. Let me get my bag.”
Emmalyne waited while he gathered his things. He motioned her to a door at the end of a narrow hallway. “The buggy is waiting out back. I was just getting ready to make my rounds when our young patient arrived.” He sent her a smile. “Five years old and five stitches to the head after falling out of a tree.”
“Oh dear. I hope he will be all right,” Emmalyne answered, following him to the door.
“He’ll be fine. Not to worry.”
“I’m so glad. I feared you’d be too busy to come. I know you said there were many cases of measles. I think Angus has joined their ranks. He came back to the house and collapsed. He’s running a high fever—his skin is very hot to the touch.”
Dr. Williams helped her into the buggy, then pressed in beside her. His nearness was rather unnerving, but not for the reasons she just recently might have thought. With him so near, all she could think about was that she had once sat like this with Tavin. The doctor’s shaving cologne reminded her that Tavin had once worn a similar scent when courting her. She tried to keep her focus on the matter at hand, but it was no use. Her thoughts kept going back to Tavin. She finally pressed her hands to her head.
“Are you all right?” the doctor asked. He had already set the horse into motion and turned the buggy abruptly at the end of the alleyway.
She let go of her head to take hold of the side of the buggy, but the sharp turn sent her leaning into Dr. Williams all the same. “I’m worried about Angus,” she finally answered.
“Is that the whole of it?”
“Yes,” she said. Then, “No.”
He chuckled. “Why don’t you tell me what’s got you so flustered?”
“Flustered? I didn’t think of myself as being flustered.” Emmalyne shook her head and gazed out on the passing buildings. “I suppose I’m also worried about Mother. She took it upon herself to tend to Angus since I needed to find you.”
“That’s very good. She needs to have something to occupy her other than her own misery.”
Emmalyne nodded and fell silent. She hoped that Dr. Williams would let matters drop, but of course he didn’t.
“And what else is on your mind?”
“Nothing that talking about will help.”
“It might.” He turned to smile at her. “I can be a very good listener, and sometimes I even offer sound advice.”
She thought of the past, of all she’d endured for the sake of her family. “I . . . well . . . I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Why not at the beginning?” he offered casually, his gaze fixed on the road.
“I just saw someone . . . a man. He was . . . I was . . . we were supposed to marry a long time ago.” She bit her lower lip and tried to think of what else to say. “It wasn’t a pleasant meeting.”
“Did he hurt you?” Jason asked, looking her over from head to toe.
“No . . . well . . . just my feelings.” She was surprised at her candor. “He brought Angus home from the quarry. His father owns the quarry.”
“So he’s a MacLachlan. I’m guessing he must be the son who has just returned. His mother was quite happy about it. She told me he’d been gone for years.”
“Yes,” she said, feeling somewhat relieved to have it out in the open. “Tavin is his name. We were engaged eleven years ago. Then . . . well . . . it’s a long story, but our engagement ended abruptly.”
“But not your love for him?” Dr. Williams’s voice was barely audible.
“No,” Emmalyne whispered back.
———
Jason tried not to let his dismay show at Emmalyne Knox’s reply. He hadn’t expected her to be in love with someone else, particularly a man who’d left her life eleven years ago.
“Were you engaged for a long time?” He needed to know more about this rival, unknown until now.
“We were. We’d known each other for a good many years. We grew up together. His sister, Fenella, and I were best friends. I think I told you that.”
“Yes, I seem to remember something along those lines.”
“She and I were as close as sisters. It seemed only natural that I should fall for her brother. She and I used to laugh and say that one day we would truly be sisters.” She frowned.
“So what happened?” He held his breath, hoping she would continue.
Emmalyne said nothing for several minutes. Jason could see that she was deep in thought; perhaps the question was too painful to answer. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “That was rude of me. The matter is certainly none of my business.”
Emmalyne looked at him for a moment. “It’s difficult to explain. There isn’t an easy way to tell the story without speaking ill of one person or another.”
He said nothing further, hoping that she would eventually feel at ease enough to offer a brief explanation. They were over half the distance to the Knox house, however, and still she hadn’t continued. Jason had all but given up when Emmalyne finally began to speak.
“Neither one of us wanted to end the engagement. It wasn’t planned. We were just a few short weeks from our wedding, in fact. Then the tornado came, and my sisters were killed. It was a horrible time for all of us, but especially for Mother and Father. They lost everything—the house, the girls. Their grief was more than they could bear.”
“And you canceled the wedding so they wouldn’t lose yet another daughter?”
She looked at him oddly and shook her head. “Not exactly. Like I said, it’s difficult to explain.”
He made the final turn and headed toward the small house. “I’d very much like to understand.”
She laughed rather bitterly. “So would I.”
Her comment only served to confuse him more. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Emmalyne shook her head. “Some things can’t be helped, Dr. Williams.”
“Jason. Call me Jason, please. I’d like very much for us to be friends.”
She put her hand up to cover her eyes. She rubbed her temples for a moment before answering. “I don’t have any friends—my responsibilities have been too great for such a luxury.”
“Everyone needs a friend,” he countered. “Responsibilities or no. You shouldn’t consider friendship a luxury, but rather a necessity.”
Emmalyne stopped rubbing her head and rested her hands once again in her lap with a sigh. “There already have been a great many necessities denied me, Dr. Williams.”
“Jason,” he insisted. The buggy came up even with the porch, and he reined the horse to a stop.
Emmalyne jumped down almost before the buggy completely halted. She looked up with an apologetic expression that vexed him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
She hurried into the house, leaving Jason to stare after her. Whatever it was that was troubling her went even deeper than a broken engagement. He took up his bag and followed after Emmalyne, his mind whirling with questions and suspicions on what was truly at the root of her despair. Hopefully they would have a little time alone after he saw to her brother. Maybe then he could get some answers.
Chapter 13
For days after his unexpected encounter with Emmalyne, Tavin wrestled with his conscience. He should never have treated Emmalyne so poorly. He honestly hadn’t meant to, but seeing her again sent all of his thoughts reeling back to the days when they had been so deeply in love . . . and all that had been lost by her decision to follow the tradition. Her scent, the way the sun glinted on her hair, the blue of her eyes—they all haunted him like nothing he’d never known.
Even now, as his father and Luthias Knox tried to figure out the production numbers, Tavin could think only of Emmalyne and the dreams they once had.
“I think if we can get another couple of men,” his father was saying as he looked over the paper work, “we’ll be just fine. Losin’ Angus’s help will definitely cause some problems, but not as much as if we’d lost an experienced cutter. I’ll find some lads to hire who can work as common laborers. Mebbe there’ll be a man or two down on their luck and just out of the state reformatory. They have ’em quarryin’ over there to build the prison walls. Could be we might find men already well trained.”
“Aye,” Luthias said, nodding his agreement. “The deadline cannae be ignored. Angus’s sickness need nae set us back.”
“Father, can I have a word?” Gillam asked from the office door.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Robert told Tavin. “Wait here.”
The last place Tavin wanted to be was alone with Luthias Knox. The older man hated him, and Tavin was only too glad to return the sentiment.
Tavin tried not to think about his terrible rage toward the older man. For many years he’d worked hard to forget that Luthias Knox even existed. For a time, he thought drink would help him drown his memories, his anger. But it wasn’t long before Tavin realized that alcohol wasn’t his friend. The memories and all the emotions surrounding them were always there, waiting for him after the booze had lost its power to make him forget. So then Tavin tried to throw himself into work. He would work such long, hard hours that he’d fall into bed exhausted at the close of each day. Even deep sleep couldn’t keep the dreams away, however.
“I donnae like yer bein’ here,” Luthias said, pulling Tavin from his contemplation when Robert MacLachlan stepped out the door.
He threw the man a hard look. “I don’t care for you being here, either.”
Luthias flicked away a fly. “Ye stay away from ma Emmalyne. It can bode nothin’ guid.”
“Believe me, I have no intention of being near your daughter. You made your feelings quite clear eleven years ago, when you ruined my life and hers. I doubt you care what you did, since you were thinking only of yourself, but what’s done is done. I won’t be seeking to repeat it.”
For a moment Luthias looked surprised. But just as quickly he gave a growl and hurled a string of curses at Tavin. “Yer a thorn in ma side. Yer the one that thinks only of hisself. I wiltnae have ye stirrin’ up Emmalyne’s feelin’s. She’s done jest fine these years without ye. Leave her be. Leave us be.” The last words cut at Tavin like shards of glass.
Tavin could see the older man was livid with anger. Luthias maintained his distance behind the desk, but his hands were balled into fists that Tavin had no doubt would slam into him if the man dared.
Shaking his head, Tavin crossed his arms. “Ever the tyrant.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed. “What say ye?”
Louder. “I said you’re a tyrant, and so you are.”
“Ye should learn to respect yer elders.”
“When my elders are due respect,” Tavin spat out, “I show them a great deal of it. And to be truthful, I have shown you a lot of respect these last eleven years. I didn’t come and set matters straight when I should have.”
“I give ye my word, ye’ll regret crossin’ me,” the older man hissed, his face growing more red by the moment.
“Your word means very little to me.” Tavin shook his head again. “You broke your word, and as my father would say, ‘Ye must drink the breest ye’ve brewed.’”
“Then yer faither would be wrong. There be no consequences for me to bear.” The man’s face and voice held a sneer.
“Donnae be so sure,” Tavin replied in as strong a brogue as Luthias’s. He paused, then said, his voice straight as an arrow, “You gave me your blessing to marry Emmalyne, then took it back. You are not a man of honor, Luthias Knox. If you were, you would have honored our agreement.”
The older man looked thunderstruck. Tavin knew this had hit a nerve, since the man had always prided himself on maintaining his honor.
Deciding he’d said enough, Tavin moved toward the door just as his father returned. He could see from the look on his father’s face that something was wrong.
“Is there a problem?”
“Aye.” H
is father looked at Luthias and then back to Tavin. “There’ve been some shenanigans goin’ on around the quarry. Gillam and others believe it to be the union men tryin’ to get our attention.”
“What kind of shenanigans?” Tavin asked.
“Some thefts. Some damage to two of the ladders. One man nearly broke his leg when one of the ladders’ rungs gave way. ’Twas clearly because of tampering.”
“What can we do?” Luthias put in.
“Bide the stour,” Robert replied, shaking his head.
“But in order to bear the struggle,” Tavin interjected, “we need to know what the struggle is. If our problem is with the unions, then we should figure out our next step.”
“Do we give in to ’em?” Tavin’s father crossed the room and hit the wall with his fist. “It’s nae that I cannae see the good in unions, but I resent bein’ forced. If they cannae treat us as equals, why should I be givin’ ’em the time of day?”
“Perhaps you could go and speak to the union leaders. Let them know that you won’t be bullied.”
“Aye, mebbe I will, and take a rifle with me.” His father’s words grew more menacing. “Mebbe they should know a taste of their own medicine. See how they are likin’ it. We’ll send an even stronger message than they have.”
Tavin knew from the past that when his father was in this frame of mind, there would be no reasoning with him. It was best to let him pour out his anger, then later, after the worst of it had passed, they could talk rationally about what should be done.
“I need to get back to work,” Tavin told his father. “We’re setting off powder charges, and I want to make sure the young lads do it right.”
“Be sure no one has tampered with the powder,” he answered gruffly. “Ye sure donnae want to end up like poor Sten. Yer sister is a ghost of a woman for the loss, and I’ll nae have ye mither goin’ the same road.”
Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02] Page 11