“Some things were never meant to be,” Tavin shot back, hoping his mother would just let the subject drop. But of course she didn’t.
“Like your love for Emmalyne Knox?”
Tavin swallowed hard. “I’d really rather not discuss it.”
“I ken that.” She had the audacity to smile at him. “But that doesnae mean you shouldnae. Tavin, you’ve battled this beastly anger of yours for over ten years. Donnae you think it’s time to let it go—give everything over to God?”
“As I said, God and I aren’t exactly on good terms.”
“So you think that means He’s ignorin’ you? Forgotten about you?”
Tavin clamped his mouth shut. He pretended to focus his attention on cutting Gunnar’s pork into pieces.
“Do you remember when you brought home a stray dog,” his mother said, obviously not daunted by his irritation, “and I widnae let you keep him? You widnae speak to me for days. You thought by ignorin’ me, I would just go away and leave you alone. But, if anything, your actions only made me think on you all the more. I figure if humans are that way, God must be even more so. You may think you’ve been hidin’ from Him by ignorin’ Him, but I’m bettin’ you’re all the more on His heart because of it.”
Gunnar looked up at Tavin. “Are you ’norin’ God, Uncle Tavin?”
Tavin looked at the boy for a moment, then lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. “It doesn’t appear I can ignore anyone. Mother, I think we’d better get to eating this very good meal. I’m hungry, even if the rest of you are set on keeping me uncomfortable.”
To his surprise, Mother laughed. When she did so, little Lethan thought it something he should do, too, and joined in, clapping his hands. Gunnar looked around at the other three and grinned. It only served to make Tavin feel all the more foolish.
“Son, I think maybe your discomfort is God’s way of tryin’ to get your attention. Mebbe it’s time to have a wee talk with Him and see what it is He wants to say.”
Tavin blew out a breath and lifted a bite to his mouth. He knew she was right. The only conversation he’d had with God in the last months was to accuse Him of not caring or to beg to be taken from this world.
“You ne’er ken, my son. He might’ve brought you and Mr. Knox here near the same time to mend the past and set a new path for the future.”
This shook Tavin out of his morbid thoughts. “That’s the last thing that God could ever bring about,” he muttered.
His mother raised her eyebrows and smiled in a most indulgent manner. “Aye. I suppose you would ken best what God wants. What with you spendin’ so much time with Him and all.”
“Sarcasm from my own mother? I really hadn’t expected that of you,” Tavin said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
Morna met his look with one of her own. “There’s often a great deal we dinnae expect in life, son, but sometimes the unexpected is exactly what we need. I just dinnae want you to close your heart to the possibilities. God has a way of comin’ to us in most unusual ways, and I think you may be in for a surprise.”
“I’ve had enough surprises to last a lifetime,” Tavin said, his frustration growing once more. “I would think you have, too.”
“Aye,” his mother replied. This time all hint of amusement was gone from her face. “But God has sent blessin’s in those surprises, too. After all, you’re here sharin’ our table. That’s somethin’ I’ve prayed a guid many years to see come true.” She looked at the boys and smiled. “And my grandsons are one of the best blessin’s to be set at my door.”
She turned back to Tavin and gave him a sympathetic nod. “I think if you open your heart to what God wants to show you, you’ll find a blessin’ or two, as well.”
Chapter 18
The steel cables of the derrick moaned against the pulley as the horse teams strained, lugging the seventy-ton slab of granite into place. Tavin signaled a go-ahead to the man handling the teams, and the horses moved forward. The tension was palpable as the granite block rose in the air, for if the horses spooked or got disturbed in any way, there could be all manner of trouble. It took a strong, steady handler and driver to keep the beasts under control, the slab from toppling over, and the crew and horses safe.
The goal of the crew—bosses and laborers—was to make sure the stone excavation was properly and safely executed. But even the granite itself was unpredictable. If the cables weren’t properly affixed, a shifting of the load could mean seventy tons of rock moving in the wrong direction—a death sentence for anyone in its way. Tavin had seen men killed by similar events and never wanted to witness it again.
Laborers were paid the lowly sum of seventeen cents an hour and often toiled for ten or twelve hours a day. They counted themselves lucky, however. Many were unskilled at any other type of job and were grateful for the pittance they earned. Some wanted the freedom to do nothing more than this kind of physical labor, and they moved around from quarry to quarry, city to city whenever they needed more cash. The stonecutters themselves earned more. Tavin knew a skilled stonecutter could command as much as five dollars a day, but that was only for the very best ones. Being able to eye the rock and see the fault lines and natural cuts wasn’t that difficult, but assessing the stone for precise extraction was a valuable talent.
The quarry master was Tavin’s brother, Gillam, and he stood not far from the derrick, making sure that everything proceeded in perfect order. He had developed a true skill for reading the rock. He could tell from years of experience how the rock would break apart and where the best places were to cut. Tavin, too, had developed an eye for the same, though he’d not really brought it to anyone’s attention. He had little desire to continue quarry work once he helped his father meet his current demands. Tavin found his ability to read the stone was useful in artistically styling the piece. He loved running his hands over granite, feeling the patterns inherent in the rock.
Tavin looked back at the large slab. It was to become paving stones—nothing artistic or lovely, but definitely beneficial. He reminded himself that both aspects were needed in life.
The granite rose ever higher and strained every line on the derrick. The thick wooden beams of the derrick held fast, however, and the cumbersome monster was very nearly in position to be lowered into place for further cutting. It seemed as if the world held its breath.
Just as Tavin started to signal the horse handler, he heard a strange whining noise. “Hold up,” he hollered, waving his arms, and the handler and driver quickly complied. He went into the pulley shed and quickly checked the equipment to see if something had happened to clog the lines. Nothing seemed amiss.
Tavin walked back outside. His brother called down from his perch, “What’s the problem?”
“I heard a strange sound. I thought maybe the pulley had frozen or that something had gotten into the lines. It looks to be all right. Let’s finish with this.”
The words were no sooner out of his mouth, however, than Tavin heard the unmistakable snap of cable. “Loose line!” he yelled.
The cable whipped away from the derrick in a frenzied fashion. En masse, the men hit the dirt, knowing they could easily be cut in half or decapitated by a wild line. Tavin feared the granite slab would create even more danger, but he didn’t have time to worry over it. Back in the pulley shed, he crouched in the doorway, hoping no one would be hurt.
It was over in a matter of seconds, although it felt like an eternity. Tavin rose to see if anyone was injured and found the laborers collecting themselves off the ground. Gillam was nowhere to be found, and Tavin could only assume he’d gone to fetch their father.
“Anyone hurt?” he called. “Are the horses all right?”
Mumbled comments and curses filled the air, but no one reported any injury. Tavin quickly went to work assessing the situation.
The granite slab hung precariously at an angle. Tavin called one of the derrick operators to his side. “Will the rig function well enough to get that rock lowered?”
/> “We’ll do what we can,” the man replied. “We can’t reset that cable without easin’ the tension.”
“Coordinate with the handler and driver—they should be able to control the teams and help you,” Tavin instructed. “Just put that slab anywhere, and we’ll get it in a proper place later. Right now, safety is more important.”
Tavin motioned the man back to his business. Next he went to the horses and spoke to the handler. “You’re going to have to work with the operator to get that slab down on the ground before another cable breaks.” He glanced to where another of the handlers was talking in a soothing tone to one of the large teams of Belgians. It was truly a miracle no one had been hurt.
“Do what you can to get the slab down safely. Don’t worry right now about where it ends up; just get it down.”
He glanced up to find his father making his way toward him. Tavin met him halfway. “I figured Gillam would get you right away.”
“I’ve sent him for the sheriff,” his father replied.
“The sheriff? What’s he got to do with this?”
His father ignored the question and kept searching the area with great intensity. “Is anyone hurt?”
“Miraculously, no.”
His father breathed easier. “Praise God. What happened?”
“Cable broke. Haven’t been able to inspect the line yet, so sending for the sheriff may be premature.”
“Nay. I checked all those lines myself jest yesterday. They were perfect.” His father’s eyes narrowed. “I cannae believe they failed overnight. Someone did this.”
“Maybe, but shouldn’t we figure that out before getting the law involved?” Tavin felt sweat trickle into his eyes and brushed at his face with the back of hand. He could see his father’s jaw clench.
“The line’s been cut,” one of the men called from across the way.
“See, I knew ’twas no accident,” Robert MacLachlan said, slamming his fist into his hand as he moved out to inspect the line for himself. Tavin followed.
“Somebody cut in different splices,” the muscular man said, holding up the cable. “You can see the marks here and here.” He turned the piece in his hand. “And here and here. Weakened the line, but didn’t let it break first thing.”
Tavin’s father looked to the derrick’s other lines. “Inspect every inch of every cable. I don’t want anything overlooked. If they did this to one line, they very well may have done it to others.”
“Who?” the man asked, looking first to Tavin and then to Robert, who was already walking away.
“That’s the question,” Tavin muttered.
“I can ask around,” the sheriff told Robert MacLachlan. “There are plenty of men who’ll do such deeds for a few bucks. After all, we have an entire prison full of crafty fellows not all that far from here. Could be you have an enemy, Mr. MacLachlan.”
“I’m tellin’ ye, ’tis the stonecutters’ union. They’re behind this.” Tavin’s father pounded his fist on the desk. “I wiltnae believe otherwise. They’ve kilt my son-in-law, and now they’re after more blood.”
“Now, Mr. MacLachlan, your son-in-law’s death was an accident. As I recall, the explosion proved to be worse than expected or went off quicker than the young man figured. That hardly constitutes murder.”
MacLachan’s face reddened. “Sten Edlund was an experienced man—expert in usin’ explosives. I donnae ken how anybody can possibly think it wasnae murder.”
The sheriff lowered his head and picked at a thread on his coat. “Seems like all men are capable of making mistakes, Mr. MacLachlan. There’s no way to prove that anyone did anything to hasten your son-in-law’s death. Certainly no one is going to come forward after all this time.”
“But the troubles continue. Men might’ve died today.”
“And the line was clearly tampered with,” Tavin threw in. “That much we know for a fact.”
“Can you give me an idea of any enemies you might have, Mr. MacLachlan? Someone who would want to see harm come to you?”
“The stonecutters’ union officials,” the man repeated firmly.
“You truly believe that union men are responsible for this?”
“Aye.” Robert MacLachlan leaned forward. “They’ve been after me since I bought the place. Said we needed to ‘stand together’ to better life for all.”
“But you were against this?”
Tavin’s father sputtered wordlessly for a moment. “I’m nae against it! I believe a man has a right to decide for himself. Personally, I donnae need the union tellin’ me what to do to treat a worker fairly. I’m an honorable man, and I ken what is expected.”
“But you believe your refusal to force your crew to join the union is behind all of these problems?”
“Aye. I’m thinkin’ it may well be a matter for me to handle.” He locked gazes with the sheriff.
“I can’t have you doing that, Mr. MacLachlan,” the sheriff said. “I’ll check into your allegations and do what I can to get to the bottom of this, but you need to refrain from interfering.” The sheriff looked to Tavin for support. “Someone will get hurt or killed if your father goes around taking the law into his own hands.”
“Someone may well get killed if he doesn’t,” Tavin shot back. “Have you ever seen what happens when a derrick cable snaps? As the tension is released, it whips through the air like a knife. It can cut a man’s head from his shoulders. I’ve seen a man lose a leg to such an . . . an accident.”
“It was only by the Almighty’s grace that it dinnae happen this time,” Robert MacLachlan added, shaking his head.
The sheriff nodded and got to his feet. “If you’ll accompany me, I’d like to see the site and question the workers. Once I have a better understanding of the situation, I’ll have an easier time of figuring out what to do next.”
“I ken what to do,” Tavin’s father growled.
“I’ll take the sheriff around to meet the workers,” Tavin said quickly. He knew it would be best to get the man out of the office before his father truly lost his temper.
By the time the workday concluded, Tavin had made the rounds with the sheriff to interview each of the workers. Satisfied that he had all the relevant information, the sheriff headed back to town without another word to Tavin’s father. Tavin was just as glad for this. He knew his father’s nerves were stretched taut. He was worried about his men, worried that someone would destroy his livelihood. It had taken every cent his father could scrape together to buy the quarry in the first place. All he had to do to make back his investment was to meet this large contract. Tavin supposed it might be public knowledge that this was the case. Perhaps someone out there wanted his father to fail and lose it all. Maybe the sheriff was right. Maybe Father had an enemy other than one related to the union. To fail now would rob Robert MacLachlan of everything he’d worked a lifetime to gain. Surely the union officials would see that as more harmful than helpful. How could his father’s business failure benefit them?
Tavin knew there was little he could say to assuage his father’s fears, but he hoped to try. Heading back to the office, Tavin considered the events of the day and how he might approach his father. He finally decided it was best they just sit down and talk man to man with the union officials. If they were truly behind this, Tavin seriously doubted they’d shy away from the fact. Oh, they wouldn’t admit to criminal activity, but Tavin felt positive he’d be able to read the truth in their actions and statements.
“Father?” Tavin called as he entered the office. His father’s desk was empty, and the lamp had been extinguished. At the far end of the building a light still glowed. Perhaps his father was speaking with Luthias Knox. Tavin waited a moment, listening for the sound of voices, but he heard nothing.
The last thing he wanted was yet another encounter with Emmalyne’s father. It was bad enough that Tavin had been tortured by dreams of the young woman every day for the last eleven years; seeing her father and brother at the quarry caused him to daily re
consider his agreement to stay. His father knew how difficult the situation was, yet he did nothing to help avoid the unwelcome meetings. In fact, he had on two different occasions instructed Tavin to go and speak to Mr. Knox on one matter or another. Tavin mustered his courage. It was foolish to be afraid of one old man. “But I don’t fear him as much as I fear myself around him,” Tavin said, moving toward Knox’s office.
Looking into the room, Tavin could see that Knox was alone. With his head bent over the ledgers and pencil in hand, Luthias seemed not to hear his approach. It was just as well. Tavin had no desire to speak to the man. He started to back away when Knox spoke.
“Are ye jest gonna stand there a-hoverin’?”
“I was looking for my father,” Tavin replied and turned to go.
Knox halted him with one simple yet astounding statement. “I would have a word with ye.”
Tavin’s jaw tightened and his breath seemed to catch in the back of his throat. He squared his shoulders and faced his enemy. The older man’s icy blue eyes narrowed, and his thick reddish-brown brows pulled together as he frowned.
Waiting in the uncomfortable silence, Tavin thought perhaps to just leave without hearing the old man out. After all, why should he show this man any respect? Luthias Knox had done nothing but treat him with contempt since his arrival.
Knox continued to size Tavin up a moment longer, then slowly stood. Finally he spoke. “I have jes one question for ye.”
“Very well,” Tavin said evenly. “And what would that be?”
“Do ye still love ma daughter?”
Of everything Tavin could have imagined, he had never expected such a question. He looked at the man and tried to push aside the bitterness and hate that had been his companions since losing Emmalyne. He had no desire to give Knox an answer to this question fraught with such anguish, and so he posed one of his own.
“Why would you care?”
Knox seemed surprised but stood his ground. “I asked ye a question. Ye can have the decency to answer me.”
Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02] Page 16