Angus nodded. “It feels good to be upright. I can manage this for a time. Maybe you could bring me a book to read.”
“Nae, you mustn’t yet strain your eyes. I’ll get the meat to stewing and bring a Bible to read to you,” Mother declared. “It will do us both good.”
Emmalyne couldn’t help but smile at the words. She was feeling more hopeful that the mother of her childhood would return yet again.
On her walk to the MacLachlans’, Emmalyne pondered how she might help to change her father. She knew that she couldn’t change him herself, but she prayed that God might. Father had been very quiet of late. She knew he’d been fraught with worry over Angus’s sickness, yet even this hadn’t brought him to words of kindness or love.
He’s not just angry and bitter; he’s like a crippled man. He can only limp from task to task, reeling from the pain. Yet he has no choice but to keep moving. Emmalyne looked up at the bright sky. Haven’t I felt that way myself?
She thought on this for a while. The day was hot and humid, and sweat trickled down the middle of Emmalyne’s back, but still her mind stayed fixed on her father and what she could do. When she looked into her own heart, she found little love for the man. It troubled her to face that truth.
“O Father God,” she said, looking to the canopy of trees over the narrow lane, “teach me to love him.”
You can begin by doing and saying loving things. The words were so clear, Emmalyne stopped dead in her tracks and looked around her. Soon another powerful statement filled her mind: Love is not an emotion but an act.
She moved slowly to the side of the road and sat down on a stone. “Thank you, Father, for loving me,” she whispered through the tears brimming in her eyes. “Thank you for showing me how to love Father—even when he doesn’t deserve it. None of us deserved your love, yet you have still given it freely.” She wiped her eyes. It seemed so simple, yet Emmalyne knew it to be quite difficult to show love to those who were less than loving in return. “I will endeavor to do so, however,” she promised.
After she resumed her journey, it wasn’t much longer before she reached the end of the road and spied the MacLachlans’ two-story house. It looked to be in much better repair than the Knox place, but that didn’t surprise her. Robert MacLachlan was not nearly so tight-handed with money as her father. But I’m going to start thinking kind, good thoughts about him rather than dwelling on the difficulties.
Emmalyne shifted the basket she’d brought and knocked on the screen door.
A young boy came running full speed, halting just short of the screen. “Hello! Who are you?”
“I’m Emmalyne,” she replied, beaming a smile at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m Gunnar, an’ I’m four,” he told her, his little blond head bobbing from side to side.
“Gunnar, who are you talking to?” Morna came to the door with another blond-haired boy on her hip. “Emmalyne! Oh, bless my soul.” She opened the door and extended her free arm to hug Emmalyne close. “I can scarce believe you’re here.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken so long.” Emmalyne relished the embrace. This woman had been like a second mother to her, and they had shared a great many things in the past. Even now, it felt as if those eleven years of separation had simply vanished.
“Come in, child. Come in and tell me about your family.” She released her hold as the baby began to protest. Morna laughed. “This is Lethan, and he doesn’t hesitate to let his will be known.”
Emmalyne laughed. “I am pleased to meet you handsome boys.”
“Where do you come from?” Gunnar asked.
Morna led the way into the sitting room. “She comes from just down the road, Gunnar. Now, why don’t you play with your brother while Emmalyne and I have a wee visit.”
“I wanna visit, too,” Gunnar said, coming to Emmalyne’s side. “What’s in the basket?”
“I brought you some jam and fresh rolls. Maybe your grandmother will let you have some.”
Gunnar looked to Morna in expectation. “Can I?”
“Certainly.” She turned to Emmalyne. “Will you stay for lunch?”
“I really shouldn’t today. I came with more than just the visit in mind.” She chuckled. “I had hoped to take you up on the offer of garden vegetables. I’m happy to pick my own if you—”
“Oh, goodness no,” Morna answered quickly. “I have the entire back porch full of produce. We’ve been picking and eating and canning as fast as we can. I’m weary to the bone trying to keep up. ’Tis why I hinnae been to visit. Oh, and you must think me such a bad friend.”
“Not at all. I know you have more than enough to tend to with the measles and all. Dr. Williams told me about Fenella.” Emmalyne bit her lower lip, hoping she’d not said too much.
“Aye. She’s not the lass you remember.” Morna looked at the boys and smiled. “These are her sons, but they scarce know her.”
Gunnar lost interest in the new visitor and went to the corner of the room, where he began to play. Seeing this, Lethan wanted down to join his brother. Morna placed the boy on his feet and chuckled as he ran across the floor. “They are growing up so fast,” she said with a shake of her head.
“They are handsome lads. Gunnar looks quite like his mother.”
“Aye.” Morna motioned to the settee. “Please, sit.” She pulled up a small chair for herself.
“Mother sends her love. She’s got her hands full with Angus’s recovery.”
“Tavin told me he was ill.” She pressed her lips together, looking stricken.
Emmalyne tried to ease her discomfort. “Yes, thank the good Lord Tavin was able to bring Angus home. He was very sick. Measles and then pneumonia. He’s doing much better now.”
“I’m so glad,” Morna said, seeming to relax. “We prayed for him at church. Reverend Campbell said he’s been to see you a couple of times.”
“Aye,” Emmalyne replied. “It was so nice to see him again.”
“Lethan, no!” Gunnar shouted, but too late. Lethan knocked over the towering block structure.
“Grandma, Lethan’s being bad.” Gunnar stood with arms crossed, his lower lip quivering as if he might break into tears.
Morna quickly interceded. “Gunnar, he’s just trying to play with you. Show him how to stack the blocks again. In time, he’ll learn.”
From the expression on his face, Gunnar wasn’t really satisfied with this explanation. “It’s gonna take a long time to build it,” he muttered and began to pick through the blocks again. Emmalyne heard him admonish the younger boy to be good and couldn’t help but smile.
“With Fenella unable to care for them and needin’ so much attention herself,” Morna said, her voice low, “it’s a wonder I get anything done.”
“I’m sure they keep you very busy, Morna. May I see Fenella?” Emmalyne asked. “I know her condition is not good, but . . . well . . . she was such a dear friend.”
“Of course you may see her.” Morna shook her head. “But donnae expect much. She probably wiltnae ken who you are.”
Emmalyne nodded. “I understand.”
“Boys, you play here for a minute while I take Emmalyne to say hello to your mither.”
Gunnar looked up. “My mama is sick.”
“Aye, but you be a big boy and watch Lethan here while I go check on her.”
The boy nodded in a most sober fashion, his expression quite unusual for a child. But Emmalyne supposed he’d had to endure a great deal.
She followed Morna upstairs and down the hall. At the end, Morna took out a key and unlocked the bedroom door. “She can be harmful to herself and to the boys, so we have to keep the door locked.”
The room was quite warm. Emmalyne couldn’t understand why the windows weren’t open. Morna seemed to read her mind.
“I usually try to move Fenella elsewhere during the heat of the day. We had to nail the windows closed lest she climb out and harm herself.”
Thinking on this, Emmalyne stepped into the room an
d immediately saw the wild-haired, glassy-eyed woman who only vaguely resembled her old friend. Fenella looked up from where she sat on the floor pulling threads from her skirt. She looked at Emmalyne for several seconds, then let out a shriek. Emmalyne jumped at the shocking noise.
“She does that whenever we come into the room,” Morna explained. “I told the boys it was her way of saying hello.” The older woman looked so sad. “She’s so lost within herself.”
Emmalyne stepped closer, then crouched down. “Fenella? It’s me, Emmy. Remember?”
Fenella looked at her but said nothing. She stared blankly for several silent moments, then turned her attention back to the threads. Emmalyne longed to reach out to her friend, but she didn’t know how to start. Standing, she looked back to Morna.
“Is there no hope she’ll come back to us?”
Morna shook her head. “Very little. We’ve taken her to a great many doctors, and they all say the same thing: Losing her husband caused her mind to . . . well, to break. And they know of no way to repair the damage.”
“I’m so sorry.” Emmalyne looked back at Fenella. “She seems at peace.”
“For the moment. She’s had her morning medicine,” Morna replied. “In time she’ll be ranting and screaming. Sometimes it goes on for hours. Usually I take the boys out to the garden or to care for the animals when she has one of her fits. It’s quite hard on them.”
“I can imagine.”
“We’d best leave before she gets agitated. I can’t always manage her very well when she’s excited.”
Emmalyne looked one last time at Fenella. Her skin was pale, and Emmalyne saw scratches and scars where she’d obviously done harm to herself. “I will come to see you again, Fenella,” she said with a smile. Fenella never looked up or even acknowledged her best friend from the past.
Once the door was locked and the two women were walking back downstairs, Emmalyne couldn’t help but remember Dr. Williams’s comments about sending Fenella to an institution. “What will become of her?” she asked softly.
Morna paused at the bottom of the steps. “I donnae ken. She’s in the good Lord’s hands is all we know.”
Emmalyne reached out and embraced the older woman. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I will pray for her . . . and for you.”
Chapter 16
“You must be the doctor,” Tavin said as Jason Williams descended the stairs.
“I am.” The man smiled and extended his hand.
Tavin shook it and introduced himself. “Tavin MacLachlan.”
The smile faded a bit, and the doctor studied Tavin for a moment. “You’re the newly returned son.”
Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Tavin nodded. “The prodigal son and all that goes with it.” Williams continued sizing him up for a moment, making Tavin feel even more out of place. “How’s my sister doing?”
“The same, I’m afraid. I’ve encouraged your mother to let me find a place for her. Perhaps you can help to convince her.”
“A place? You mean an institution? Lock Fenella up somewhere? She’s a human being, you know.” Tavin couldn’t contain his fury at the idea.
“Yes, but she’s a danger to herself and to those around her. Did you see the bruising on your mother’s arms? You may not know this yet, but there have also been incidents in the past when she’s hurt the children.”
Tavin shook his head slowly. “I had heard about the children, but didn’t realize Fenella had hurt my mother.”
“Unfortunately, she did.” The doctor and Tavin faced each other at the bottom of the stairs. “Fenella hit your mother multiple times when she was trying to clean her up. Your mother is worn out, Mr. MacLachlan. Besides the physical and emotional burden of your sister’s care, she is raising those two young boys at the time in her life when she should simply be enjoying her role as a grandmother. I fear before much longer I’ll be making visits out here to see to your mother, too.”
Tavin regretted his earlier outburst. “Maybe Mother needs to have my father or me take part in helping her.”
“That is a gracious offer but would probably be most difficult and at times inappropriate, Tavin. When your sister has physical needs or has torn off her clothing, it wouldn’t do to have her brother or father caring for her. In fact, the job is quickly becoming one for properly trained attendants. Your sister often needs to be sedated, and although your mother tries to get her to take her medicine, it isn’t always easy.”
“But we get by” came his mother’s voice from the top of the stairs. The men turned to face her as she made her way down. “I know that the guid doctor is tryin’ to convince you that we should send Fenella away.”
“He is,” Tavin admitted. “But why didn’t you tell me she’s hurt you?”
His mother shrugged. “If I mentioned it every time, we widnae speak of much else.”
“It’s that bad?” Tavin asked, shocked anew. For some reason he had presumed that Fenella’s spells were few and far between. He’d heard her screaming and throwing herself around the room, but he’d not once considered that she might be causing harm to their mother.
“As I was saying,” Dr. Williams continued, “there are some good places—some alternatives to large institutions. Some private hospitals have sprung up in various areas for the purpose of treating the mentally ill. I could check into one of those locations and see what they might have to offer.”
“You can check into it if you wish, Doctor,” she told the man. “But I cannae make a decision about it today. Nor on my own. I will speak to my husband and sons on the matter.”
Dr. Williams nodded. “Very well. I’ll be back to check on her again next week. In the meanwhile, it might serve you well to at least have one of the men present when you deal with her episodes. You can always send them into the hall to wait until you’re finished, but I fear for your safety as she becomes more violent.”
“Donnae worry, Doctor. I’ll see to it.” She pulled some coins from her apron pocket. “Will this cover today?”
“It’s exactly right,” the doctor said, taking the money. “You’re spoiling me. Your family is one of the few that pays their expenses upon service . . . and in cash.” At the door, Dr. Williams reached for his hat on a nearby table.
Just then, Lethan woke up from his nap and began to call for his grandmother. Tavin knew it would only be a matter of minutes before Gunnar did likewise.
“I’ll walk the doctor out, Mother,” Tavin said. “You go ahead and see to the boys.”
“Thank you, Tavin.” She stretched up to offer him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a good lad.”
Tavin followed Dr. Williams outside and down the walkway to the buggy. He was surprised, however, when the doctor paused and looked him in the eye. “You are the one who used to be engaged to Miss Knox, are you not?”
He had never imagined that such a question would be posed by anyone who hadn’t been around back then, and for a moment Tavin was without the words to reply. He looked at the doctor for a moment, then gave a curt nod.
“Well, just so you know, I happen to care about what happens to that young woman. She has become a friend, and I wouldn’t want to see her hurt by you—again.”
Tavin sized the man up. They weren’t so different in height or weight, but he figured he probably had more muscle than a man who treated the sick for a living. The doctor’s statement riled him, but Tavin wasn’t about to admit it to the man.
“I hope you understand,” the doctor added firmly.
“I think you’d do better to keep your thoughts to yourself,” Tavin said through gritted teeth, attempting to hold back his desire to plant a fist in the man’s face.
He thought back to how he’d treated Emmalyne on that recent unfortunate encounter. Had she told the doctor—was that the reason he brought it up now? Guilt mingled with irritation as he sarcastically spat out, “As a physician I’m sure you have everyone’s welfare in mind, but you’d do well to remember your place.”
Dr. Wi
lliams held his gaze a moment longer as he climbed into the small buggy. “I do know my place, Mr. MacLachlan. I only hope you will remember yours. Otherwise, it may get a little crowded.” He flicked the reins and was gone before Tavin could think of a reply.
Watching the doctor drive away, Tavin had the strangest mix of emotions. There was a part of him that wanted to pummel the man, while another felt a jealous possessiveness that he’d not known since Emmalyne had been his betrothed. But even as those feelings were awakened, Tavin remembered only too well that Luthias Knox would allow no man a place in his daughter’s life. The good doctor would be hard-pressed to get past that obstacle, no matter how much he cared for Emmalyne. And, for the moment, that provided Tavin great comfort.
With her evening work done, Emmalyne decided to risk her father’s ire and seek him out for a conversation. She sensed less anger in him since Angus had begun to recover, but nevertheless he remained aloof. Tonight he was in the barn sharpening tools.
Emmalyne hung her apron in the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee for her father—a good excuse to interrupt his work. She made her way out back without the benefit of a lamp thanks to the warm glow of the evening light. The late-summer days were such a blessing. She paused just inside the barn door and watched her father at work. He seemed quite intent, gripping the back of the axe head so he could place the blade against the grinding stone. His foot easily mastered the pedal while his hands expertly guided the edge of the axe over the stone.
Emmalyne waited until he lifted the axe away from the stone to call out. “Father, I’ve brought you some coffee.”
He looked up and narrowed his eyes. “I dinnae ask for coffee.”
“I know. I just thought you might appreciate some. You’ve been hard at work for some time now. Angus and Mother have already retired for the night. I know tomorrow is Sunday and you aren’t overly concerned with getting to bed early tonight, so I thought we might talk a bit.”
He growled, “Talk? What about?”
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