Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02]

by The Quarryman's Bride

  Turning the horses toward the tracks, Tavin noted a half dozen men standing around the loading platform. They carefully watched the approaching line of wagons and moved out to the road as Tavin drew closer. Two of the men held rifles.

  “Hold up there, MacLachlan,” one of the men called out.

  Tavin reined back on the team and held up his hand as a signal to the wagon behind him. “What’s the problem?” he asked the man. He noted that the other men had formed a line across the road.

  “We know you folk aren’t union men, and while we respect that,” he said with a sneer, “this is a union loading dock. We can’t allow you and your wagons to cross our lines.”

  “That makes no sense. We have a contract and have already arranged transport with the railroad,” Tavin countered. He heard a rider approaching and knew it would be his father.

  “What’s going on?” Robert MacLachlan demanded.

  “As I was telling your son,” the sneering man began again, “this is a union loading dock. No one’s allowed to off-load here unless they belong to the union.” He crossed his arms against his chest and fixed them with a stern stare. “That’s the rules.”

  “We have rock that’s expected in St. Paul by the end of the week,” Tavin’s father stated. “I have already arranged for this load to go out today. These men are dependent upon this contract for their pay.”

  “We know that. That’s why we’re here,” the man replied. “See, our union boss said we shouldn’t go out of our way to force your hand in joining the union. Instead, he suggested we show you the merits of such an arrangement. See, we’re not a bad bunch.” He motioned to the men behind him. “We’re hard workers, just like you and your men. But we know the power we can have if we join together in the union. With you running along all independent of our organization . . . well . . . it sends the wrong message to some.”

  “You mean others might not want to unionize?” Tavin asked, knowing the answer.

  The man nodded. “See, I knew you fellas were smart. We’re stronger together than separate. Even the Bible talks about how a house divided against itself can’t stand. The union is looking out for everyone’s best interest.”

  “Except ours,” Robert MacLachlan said flatly.

  “Even yours,” the man countered. “It’s you who don’t seem to be concerned about what’s best.”

  Tavin looked to his father. “What do you want to do?” he asked quietly. “I could go for the authorities and bring them back here.”

  Robert MacLachlan considered that a moment. He looked back to the man. “Look, our livelihood is at stake here. We need to honor our contract and get this granite to St. Paul. Why don’t you let us ship our load, and then I promise to meet with my men. We’ll put it to a vote. If the majority wants to join up, we’ll comply.”

  The man stepped forward and took hold of the team’s harness, shaking his head. “No, sir, I have my orders. By joining the union you’ll have access to all that the union affords, including the loading platform and workers who will ensure your product reaches its proper destination.” He gave a shrug and added, “I’d suggest you go home and have that meeting with your men. I’m sure if you give this a good think, you’ll see things our way.”

  Tavin could see his father’s jaw clench and unclench in anger. He started to speak again, then shook his head. Looking at Tavin, MacLachlan pulled back on his horse’s reins. “Turn around. Head for the quarry,” he growled.

  His father took off before Tavin could question him. Luthias Knox muttered an oath, and for a moment Tavin thought the older man might well climb down from the wagon to take on the union man. Instead, he sat fast.

  Tavin squinted at the man holding his team. “I can let the team run you over, if you’d like. Or you can let go and give us room to turn around,” Tavin said in a measured manner.

  The man released the harness. Joining his confederates where they blocked the road, he touched his finger to his hat in a mocking salute. Tavin yanked hard on the reins and called to the team. The horses strained against the weight of the rock, but in a few moments they had the load turned and headed back down the road.

  They were more than a mile away from the rail lines when Tavin remembered that Mr. Knox had mentioned having business in town. He slowed the horses and turned to the older man. “I forgot that you had business in town.”

  “’Tis nocht that cannae wait.”

  Tavin nodded and kept the horses moving. Though he wanted to ask Knox about their earlier conversation, the problems that they’d met up with put a damper on further discussion. He couldn’t say that he blamed the man for his silence. The union men’s interference couldn’t have come at a worse time: Every man at the quarry was awaiting his pay, Knox included. Not only that, but Knox was the man handling the bookkeeping. He would know full well just how grave the situation was. He would know that Robert MacLachlan’s entire future depended on delivering this rock.

  Back at the quarry, Tavin and the other men unharnessed the horses and cared for them before gathering back in the office as requested. Tavin could see the defeat in his father’s expression.

  “Men, you ken we’ve talked before about the quarry and whether to unionize.” Robert MacLachlan paused and leaned back on his desk. “It would seem the time for decision making has been forced upon us. We can either join the union or we’ll be forced to haul our granite to St. Paul on our own.”

  “We could take matters into our own hands,” Tavin’s brother interjected. “Maybe give back a little of what they’ve been giving us. They won’t be expecting it, and we could catch them by surprise.”

  “And do what, Gillam?” Tavin asked, turning to face his brother. “Burn down the union office? Destroy the loading dock? Kill a few of them?” He paused a moment to let the words sink in and turned to face the other quarrymen. “I’ve belonged to the union, and I know it can be a powerful ally. My father has never been against the unions so much as he’s been against being forced to join. He wanted each of you to have the freedom to decide for yourselves. So now we have to decide. That load of granite needs to be delivered to St. Paul. If we have to take it ourselves, it will be difficult at best and delayed. We’ll lose money. You’ll lose money.”

  “We’re gonna lose money either way,” one of the men declared. “I’ll be payin’ money to the union or havin’ it taken out of this load’s pay.”

  “I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Tavin said. “However, I have another thought. We aren’t going to change the minds of those men, and right now they hold all the cards. It would appear that even though the management of the union has come down against violent acts, they are not against illegal tactics that prove their strength.”

  “So what’s your suggestion, lad?” Tavin’s father asked.

  “The union has some very good things to offer us,” Tavin said. “I say we join and take advantage of those things.”

  “And just let them get away with bullying us?” Gillam spat out.

  Tavin smiled. “Not exactly. It seems to me the best way to have some control over this union is to be an active part of it. We can better influence the way things are done from the inside, wouldn’t you agree?”

  There was a murmuring of comments around the room, but the general consensus seemed to agree with Tavin. His father nodded and came to stand beside him.

  “I donnae wish to see any more damage done to you men or to the quarry. I cannae abide being forced into a thing . . .” He paused, shaking his head. “But I think Tavin is right. And . . . well, selfishly I need this contract fulfilled. I dinnae want to influence ye with ma own troubles, but truth is I put everythin’ I had into this.”

  Tavin knew it had humbled his father to be so honest. He put his arm around the older man. “Each one of us needs this contract fulfilled.”

  The discussion continued for another half an hour, with Gillam raising the biggest protests. But in the end the men agreed to unionize. Tavin knew the decision came hard f
or his father. It wasn’t all that easy for Tavin to swallow defeat, either. However, he had seen the way men with know-how could influence the union to better meet their needs. Tavin felt confident that, in time, they could find a way to make the union work for them rather than against them.

  Once the crew had left, Robert MacLachlan turned to his sons. “I hope you donnae think less of me. When I consider the things we’ve suffered, Fenella’s poor husband and the damaged equipment . . . well . . . I donnae have enough fight left in me.”

  “I don’t think less of you, Father. I think you made the right decision. Like I said, the best way to make changes will come from using logic and reasoning from the inside.”

  “And you figure they’ll just stop harassing us now?” Gillam asked, anger edging his tone.

  Tavin gave him a pat on the back. “Gillam, you and I are reasonably smart, are we not? And we know our father is wise. My thought is that God has brought us to this place and time for a reason. We must now trust Him for the answers.”

  Gillam seemed to lose some of his fire. “I . . . well . . . I’m like Father. I just don’t like being forced into joining. It goes against my nature.”

  “And mine,” Tavin agreed. “However, God is teaching me of late that my nature is rather self-centered and sinful and needs discipline.” He looked to his father and grinned. “Who knows what else He will teach us in time?”

  Tavin wasn’t surprised to find Emmalyne at the house when he returned from the quarry. She and the little boys were in the backyard, where she was removing clothes from the line while the boys played nearby. He paused to watch her for a moment, her beauty causing his heart to pound. He longed to see her hair cascading down her back and remembered only too well the feel of it. Her tiny waist begged his touch, and her lips . . . He smiled, remembering their kiss.

  “Uncle Tavin, come and see what we got,” Gunnar called out.

  Emmalyne looked up and met his gaze. Tavin let Gunnar take him by the hand and pull him to a wooden crate. Inside was a fuzzy ball of fur with a rather long pointed nose. The puppy yipped and whined at the sight of company.

  “A man brought him today. Grandma said he’s our new dog.”

  “Seems mighty small,” Tavin said, reaching down to scratch the pup behind the ears.

  “Grandma says he’ll get pretty big. He’s a Scottish collie dog.”

  “Aye. I can see that.”

  Lethan pounded on the top of the crate. “Goggie. Goggie.”

  Tavin laughed. “That’s right. So what are you going to name him?”

  Gunnar shook his head thoughtfully. “Don’t know. I was thinkin’ about that. Grandma says he needs a strong name.”

  “Maybe we could make a list tonight and figure that out.” Tavin looked over his shoulder to where Emmalyne was folding the last of the laundry. “What do you think, Emmalyne?”

  With a shy glance over her shoulder at his use of her name, Emmalyne said, “I used to have a dog named Duke. I thought that a rather nice name.”

  Tavin nodded and turned back to the boys. “That is a nice name. I used to have a dog named Laddie. That’s another good one. Or maybe you could call him Scotty since he’s Scottish.”

  Gunnar’s eyes widened. “Scotty. I like that name.” He reached into the box and lifted the puppy out. “Hey, Scotty.” The animal licked at his face, and Gunnar giggled. “I think he likes it, too.”

  “Boys, it’s time to get washed up for supper,” Morna called from the back door.

  Gunnar shoved the pup back into the crate and hurried toward the house. “Grandma, do you like the name Scotty?”

  Lethan toddled off after his brother, jabbering about the pup in incoherent baby talk.

  Tavin heard his mother discussing the puppy’s name with her grandsons as they disappeared into the house. Emmalyne, meanwhile, hoisted the basket of folded clothes and started to move past him. Tavin stopped her and took the basket from her. “Let me,” he said softly.

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Father and I will be coming over to help with the barn tonight.”

  Emmalyne smiled. “It’s coming along well, especially since some of the other quarrymen came to help. Father was impressed with the kindness of everyone.”

  “Your father is . . . well . . . he seems to be changed.”

  “Does he?” Her voice was so soft, Tavin barely heard her comment.

  He stopped and put the basket on the ground. Emmalyne looked at him in question. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “That isn’t really what I want to talk about.”

  “It isn’t?” She glanced at him, then away again, her face growing rosy.

  “No.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “You are more beautiful than ever, Emmalyne.”

  She blushed further and lowered her face. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Em, I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted.”

  She looked up again. “I’m sorry for so much.”

  He reached out and touched her cheek once more. “You did nothing wrong. You were an honorable daughter, and I faulted you for it. That was wrong. I was so angry—at God, at your father, at you even. . . . But after all that, after all the years that have gone by, I still can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you.”

  She nodded. “I know. Oh, Tavin . . . I . . .”

  He pulled her into his arms and hushed any further words with his lips. The kiss was slow and tender, but for Tavin it ended much too soon. Emmalyne pulled away and looked up into his face.

  “I love you, Tavin,” she said, as if the words needed to be spoken.

  “I love you, Emmy. I always have. And I always will.”

  Chapter 26

  Tavin reviewed his work on the new Knox barn. He’d spent almost all of his free time helping build the structure, and along with the help of several of the quarrymen and his father, the building was now nearly complete. Luthias Knox seemed quite satisfied with the results. Knox had even taken more opportunities to speak with Tavin and to assess the progress. Tavin was surprised to find the older man to be enjoyable company. Apparently Knox felt the same way, for this evening he asked Tavin to join his family for supper after the days’ efforts were completed.

  With the last of the evening light fading to the west, Tavin gathered his tools. The other men had already left for their homes, and even Tavin’s father had departed. Glancing again at the barn, Tavin felt a sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t a large structure, but it would suffice to house the Knoxes’ horses and milk cow.

  “It’s looking good, don’t you think?” Angus’s voice sounded from behind Tavin.

  Tavin turned. “I was just thinking that myself.”

  “It’s smaller than the other, but I think it will serve us well.”

  “Aye,” Tavin agreed. “And in time you can always add to it. It won’t be hard to enlarge.”

  “No, I don’t suppose so.” Angus shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “I have to admit, it surprises me that you were so willing to help with this.”

  Tavin shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.” He looked at Angus. “I’m trying hard to do the right thing these days.”

  “I am, as well.” He looked at Tavin for a moment as if he wanted to say something more, but just then Angus’s mother called from the back door.

  “Come on, lads. The bridies are getting cold.”

  “Well now, that would be a crime,” Tavin declared and slapped Angus on the back. “We mustn’t let that happen.”

  They laughed and made their way to the house, washed up, and joined the others in the dining room. The food smelled heavenly and reminded Tavin that he’d not eaten since lunch. It also reminded him of what a good cook Emmalyne was, even those many years ago. She passed by him with a platter of the meat pies, and Tavin gave pretense of reaching out to steal one. She quickly dodged his attack.

  “You have to wait until everyone is seated,” she reprimanded archly.

  Tavin n
oted that Emmalyne was wearing a dark green gown that seemed to really draw out the red in her hair. She deposited the platter on the table, flashed him a smile, and then quickly turned back to her work in the kitchen.

  “I’m glad ye could join us,” Luthias Knox said. He motioned the men to the table. “Have a seat here,” he said, looking directly at Tavin.

  Tavin took the chair, and when the meal began he found himself directly opposite Mr. Knox and Angus while he was sandwiched in between Emmalyne and her mother. He couldn’t have been more pleased. The sweet fragrance of Emmalyne’s rose soap mingled with the scent of yeasty dough and onions. To Tavin it spoke of home.

  “Leave us pray,” Knox declared, bowing his head. “Emmalyne, would ye say grace for this bounty?”

  Tavin noted her surprise, then gave her a quick wink before bowing his head. For a moment he thought she might refuse, but after a short silence, Emmalyne offered a prayer.

  “Father, we thank you for this food and the provision you have given. We thank you for your mercy and protection. Bless us that we might bless others. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Tavin whispered.

  The meat pies were passed around, followed with a rich brown gravy. Tavin helped himself to two of the bridies at the insistence of Mrs. Knox and doused them in several spoonfuls of gravy. He wasted no time in getting the food to his mouth.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, Tavin sighed. “This is wonderful, even better than my mother’s.” He looked to Mrs. Knox. “Just don’t tell her I said so.” Mrs. Knox and Angus laughed, and even Mr. Knox had a hint of a smile on his face.

  “Emmalyne makes the best bridies in the state,” Angus put in. “Maybe in the whole of the country.”

  Tavin laughed. “I seem to recall she was always a fair cook.”

  Emmalyne blushed at the praise but kept her gaze on her plate. Tavin couldn’t help but steal a glance from time to time. Her beauty and grace, gentleness and sweet spirit were as evident as they were eleven years ago. If anything, she’d only grown lovelier, inside and out.