“We’ll meet you up at the big house!” Timothy bellowed over the din. “I’ll bring the brandy and cigars. Phillip, you ride over to Vancouver’s. Noah, run up and let them know at the mills. I’m about to become a great grandfather!” His enormous voice echoed through the house. Louisa could not help but smile.
From the upper floor Talbot heard the commotion and walked back down the wide stairs. When he arrived on the main floor Mark was slamming the front door behind him and young men were running from the dining room. Louisa stepped out and took his hand, her face flushed with excitement. “My niece is having her baby. We’re all riding out to my grandparent’s house to wait there.”
Talbot looked down at his stained cuff.
“Sit by me, here.” Louisa had climbed up onto the back of the open wagon with her youngest brother, leaving room for Talbot. He stepped up on the buckboard and turned to sit beside her.
“Are we ready now?” Timothy called out as he shook out the reins. Talbot sat down on the board with a hard thump and Louisa giggled.
“Hold on!” she said.
Timothy pulled the wagon out of the drive with his wife beside him, his three youngest sons, Louisa and Talbot all clinging to the wagon rails in the back. As he turned onto the wide road toward town they were met by Roland and Emma and their eldest son, Ottland, and they fell in behind them.
Louisa noticed the furrow on Talbot’s forehead. “Babies are a very big deal at Stavewood,” she said loudly, over the whooping and excited laughter.
As they pulled onto the road leading to her grandparent’s home they rode past the tiny Victorian cottage Louisa’s grandmother had built. James and Katie would have their baby here with Colleen and Mark while the rest of the family waited at the main house. Mark waved and called from the porch.
“Not yet!” he yelled through cupped hands.
James stood on the porch as well, his face pale with concern, wringing his hat nervously in his big hands. He looked sweet and kind awaiting the birth of his first-born child in the afternoon sunlight.
Here Louisa’s grandmother had read her fairytales about knights in shining armor and The Three Billy Goats Gruff. She could still hear her voice mimicking the sound of the goats’ hooves trip-trapping over the bridge and her impression of the crotchety voice of the troll that lived beneath the trestle. But Louisa’s favorite was always the story of her own birth, here in the fairy tale cottage on the edge of her grandparent’s property. She hadn’t been home when her grandmother, Isabel, passed away and Louisa had never had a chance to say goodbye. She had loved her dearly, but now her stories only lived on in Louisa’s memory.
Louisa had once daydreamed about living here, tending the flowers along the tiny walkway, polishing the panes of the leaded windows and knitting in a rocker on the wooden porch. There was a prince living here with her as well, a faceless fellow with whom she would live happily ever after. She turned to Talbot sitting beside her and inserted him into the role, trying to envision him on the porch of the cottage alongside her.
The wagon came to a halt outside of the main house and the passengers piled out into the yard.
Timothy Elgerson instructed the boys to bring in a wooden crate from beneath the driver’s seat on the wagon. He climbed the wide steps two at a time and opened the heavy wooden door.
The family settled inside to await the announcement of the birth. Ottland hugged Louisa warmly and she looked up into his eyes. He was the image of his father, gleaming dark hair and the fairest of complexions. He had his dad’s shy and serious demeanor and Louisa was immediately reminded of the childhood crush she had once had on his father as a very young girl. She blushed.
Talbot stood in the yard beside the wagon seriously watching the exchange.
Louisa took a deep breath and looked over to Talbot. It was clear he was unhappy. “Don’t you want to come inside?” Louisa took his hand.
“Yes, of course.” He cleared his throat. “It shouldn’t be long, right?”
Louisa laughed out loud. “Who knows? It could be tomorrow morning!”
Talbot took a deep breath and climbed the stairs to the house.
After nearly an hour the youngest Elgerson, Noah, grew tired of waiting. “Pa, do you think I could walk down there and find out if the baby’s come yet?”
“All babies come in their own time,” his father said, dealing out another hand of cards.
Rebecca and Emma busied themselves in the kitchen and the men played poker, eventually coaxing Talbot to sit in with them. They bartered with handfuls of coins and spent shell casings, laughing loudly and slapping one another on the back. Louisa imagined that when they went fishing together they likely acted the same way whenever they caught a fish. The easy teasing and competition was all part of it.
Louisa felt caught between the domestic conversation of the women in the kitchen and the boisterous joking and jostling of the men. Even so, the conflicts of being a tomboy as a child were far easier than the way she felt now, living in a different time and caught between the love of home and the desire to be successful in the city.
“It’s a girl!” Mark burst into the front door calling out the news at the top of his lungs. The kitchen door swung open and Rebecca and Emma hurried past him, running towards the cottage, their bright skirts a blur along the pathway. James shuffled in nervously, blushing deeply and embarrassed to be the center of attention.
Timothy hugged him heartily. “Good job!” he said. “Jake, let’s have that brandy!”
Louisa watched silently from the corner of the room as the snifters were filled and cigars passed around, her father lighting everyone’s in turn and offering robust congratulations.
She had never seen the men’s ritual when a new life came to Stavewood. There were often new babies, but she had always stayed inside on the skirts of the women. There, mothers cried out with the effort of delivery and squalling newborns were washed and wrapped. The men were very different. They congratulated one another wholeheartedly, proud that their family ranks had grown by one. She smiled to herself.
The brandy flowed and she saw that Talbot was becoming more and more comfortable with the celebration. Soon, he too was slapping the others on the back and laughing heartily. He filled every snifter a second time and Louisa slipped out the door and hurried down the path to the cottage. He was in his element now, filling glasses and laughing with the men, showing them all a good time. Perhaps in time he would fit in at Stavewood.
Twenty-Seven
Louisa stood on the porch at the cottage listening to the women inside squealing. She stepped into the open doorway to see that her mother held a tiny infant, while Emma and Colleen peered down at the child.
“Ah, she looks just like her father!” Colleen exclaimed. “Just as well. As I recall Katie was the most pitiful little thing you ever saw!”
Rebecca looked up and into Louisa’s eyes. A long time ago she had held her daughter there, in that same sunlit cottage. She reached up and wiped away a tear.
Louisa was moved. In that moment she knew she was a part of something larger than herself.
Rebecca stepped towards her. “Would you like to see her?”
Louisa took the tiny bundle from her mother’s arms and looked down into the baby’s angelic face.
“Katie is doing wonderfully. You can go in and see her if you like,” Rebecca said.
Louisa studied the perfect infant, her tiny fingers clutching the air. The baby struggled to see Louisa and it occurred to her that this new person was seeing all of their faces for the first time in her little life. The very first people she saw were her family, the ones that loved her and would care for her and watch over her for all her life. Here, in this same cottage, her grandmother and grandfather, her father, her mother and Mark had all seen her that way. They were her world, her caretakers and her protectors.
She carried the baby into the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed with pure amazement on her face. James stood at the bedside, Katie�
��s hand in his. Here it all was, the fairy tale her grandmother had told her, dreamlike and emotional, in the cottage she remembered so well.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Katie asked, her face flushed.
“I n-never imagined,” Louisa stuttered. “Amazing.”
“Her name is Fiona Louisa Emerson. I hope she’s half as rough and tumble as you and I once were, Loo.”
Louisa was overcome by her niece’s gesture. They had often fought as children, sometimes even physical fist fights, and it was common for them to be punished and separated from one another for days. But they could never be apart for long. “Oh, Katie, I don’t know what to say.”
“Are you thinking about settling down with that gentleman you brought home?”
Louisa handed the tiny infant to Katie who cradled her gently.
“I am. I want to.” Louisa took a deep breath. “You have.”
“Ah, you’d have to thank James for that. Once I laid eyes on him I couldn’t stay away. If this fella is the one, Loo, it’s a wonderful thing.”
In the waning sunlight of the day Louisa walked back to the main house with her mother, Colleen and cousin Emma at her side. The women were tired, but elated. A new baby, it seemed to Louisa, was surely a package that came with many emotions.
From the yard they could hear Louisa’s father bellowing, and the other men as well, laughing loudly and cursing unashamedly.
“Ah,” Colleen grunted. “They’ve gotten out the liquor.” She lifted her skirt and climbed the wide steps to the house with determination.
When Louisa entered it was clear that her father was enjoying the celebration. Phillip was too. Roland was holding his hand over his glass, insisting he had quite enough and Mark was shaking his head as well.
“There’s plenty of brandy!” Talbot insisted. “Cheers! Have another!”
Timothy held out his snifter.
“That’s enough of that!” Colleen walked up to Mark and stood on tiptoe. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear and he said goodnight for them both. When Emma reached Roland’s side it was clear they were going to be on their way as well.
“You boys need to get in the wagon,” Rebecca said softly, and without argument the three younger brothers nodded quietly and walked outside.
“I sluppose the celebration hash come to an end,” Timothy’s words slurred softly.
“For tonight,” Rebecca said quietly as he downed the last of his brandy and set the snifter on the table carefully.
“The night is young!” Talbot called out. “One more for the road!”
Timothy reached to take hold of the glass and Rebecca took his arm resolutely.
“Not tonight,” she said. Timothy nodded and walked out to the wagon.
“One more!” Talbot called out.
Louisa walked up to Talbot and took the bottle of brandy from his hand.
“Then you have a drink with me,” he insisted.
“They are going back and it’s too far to walk.” She put the stopper into the bottle, led him out the doorway and pulled the heavy door closed behind them.
The family piled into the wagon and Louisa asked her father to scoot over. She climbed up into the seat and shook out the reins.
The monotonous sound of the horses’ hoofbeats in the twilight lulled the exhausted riders into silence and Louisa directed the big team towards Stavewood. As they passed the cottage she decided she would visit James and Katie again before she returned to New York City.
Twenty-Eight
Louisa laid her notes out on the table in her room and Talbot poured over them. Her parents and the boys had gone to bed and the house grew quiet, all except for Talbot who seemed more awake every minute.
“I feel drained,” she said. “I got so emotional when I saw that baby. Mama remembered having me there. I saw it in her eyes.”
“All the more reason to get her book together. You can tell that part of the story too, but this part has to be figured out first.”
“Her story is so beautiful too,” Louisa thought aloud. “And it’s still happening.”
“Well, we can catch up with the present, but first, my dear, we must sort out the bloomin’ past.” Talbot picked up a sheet of paper and began reading. “What is this here?”
Louisa looked over his shoulder. “That was something Birget told me. She said that Corissa was meeting Jude, here in the house. She was certain of it. She heard their voices.”
“Inside the house,” Talbot said low under his breath. “Did you gather any other new information?”
“Tomorrow I’m going to get the mail-order-bride ad and my mother’s picture. My father will have them and maybe other things too.”
“Why do we have to wait until tomorrow?”
“They’ve gone to their room. I never disturb them once they are in there. It can wait until morning.”
Talbot sighed. “Am I being impatient?” he asked.
“No,” Louisa said. “I feel it too. I want to get done and go back to New York to get on with our lives. But all this business about Jude Thomas is bothering me and I need time to figure it out.”
“Maybe that cook knows more than she’s telling you.”
“I don’t think so,” Louisa said. “She seemed quite open in fact.”
“What else did she say?”
“She thought Corissa was signaling him from the turret.” Louisa recalled seeing Talbot in the turret earlier that day. “Come with me,” she said.
Louisa and Talbot climbed the stairs to the third floor to the open turret in the center of the house. She pulled on the heavy doors and they opened with an audible sigh. The wind rushed through the opening and she felt an uneasy chill.
They stepped out into the darkness and looked down into the yard.
“You can see a very long way from here,” Talbot said.
“On a clear day you can see over thirty miles.” Louisa watched Talbot’s face grow serious as he looked out over the fields.
“What will we do when we’ve finished here?” she asked.
“Finished?” he asked. “Well, we’ll go back and you can write the book and we’ll publish it of course. But we are still a long way from that.”
“No. You and I,” she said. “Not the book. What will you and I do?”
“We will go out, as we always have. Enjoy rubbing elbows with New York City’s finest, of course. We will live high on the hog, as they say.”
Louisa felt uneasy. She looked down into the yard, listening in the darkness. She heard a horse whinny in the stables and then grow silent. She had the oddest feeling that they were being watched.
“Let’s go back inside.”
“You’re disappointed in my answer, aren’t you?” he asked. He pulled her to him.
“I suppose I’m just tired and a bit overwhelmed.”
“Don’t get discouraged, Louisa. We’ll get your research done. Now that your niece has had her child we can settle down and focus. It won’t take all that long. You’re eager to get back to the city and I am as well. Besides, in New York I have you entirely to myself.”
Louisa smiled. “Yes, I suppose I am eager to get back.”
“When you are in the city you belong to me, Louisa,” he said, smiling.
Louisa kissed his cheek fondly.
Talbot pulled her closer and kissed her fervently. She surrendered to his kisses, wanting to be swept away from all the pressure. His lips moved along her neckline and she could smell a hint of brandy on his breath. When he cupped his hand over her breast her body tingled.
He pressed her against the door and reached down to her thigh. He caressed her there and Louisa caught her breath.
“You are mine, Louisa, and I want you as I have never wanted a woman.”
He ran his hand up beneath her skirt and she felt his bare palm against her hip over the top of her stocking. His free hand unfastened a button, and then another on the bodice of her dress.
If she were to give herself to him, she felt all
of her reservations would melt away. She would no longer question her feelings about being in love, about knowing a man. She could get swept away like the people around her that had found one another. If she would only surrender.
Talbot pushed her sweater back from her shoulders and pressed his hand against her breast, stroking her through her camisole. Her sweater fell to the floor and she heard a soft tap that caused her to look down. The tiny, carved fish had fallen from the pocket and landed at her feet. Suddenly, the image of Luc Almquist appeared in her mind.
Louisa stepped to one side, straightened her dress and began fastening the buttons of her bodice.
Talbot’s forehead creased as she composed herself.
“What’s wrong?” He was clearly frustrated.
“Not here. Not in my parent’s house,” she said. “I’m sorry, Talbot. I am. Not like this.”
“Louisa?” He straightened his shirt and took a deep breath. “Do you love me?”
“What?”
“Do you love me? One moment you are devoted entirely to me and we understand one another and the next – well, since you’ve been home I’m not sure. Perhaps I ought to say it again.”
“Excuse me?” Louisa wasn’t sure what he meant.
“Yes.” He tugged at his white shirt collar. “Then I shall. Louisa Elgerson, I am completely and entirely in love with you. I know we have only known one another a few weeks but I am quite sure of it. If there is a wonderful love story it is yours and mine. There now, I’ve said it.
“In the city, yes, you are mine. But here you are distracted. Yes, quite distracted by that fellow in the mud, the one with the ridiculously massive horse.” The color in his face rose and he cleared his throat. “He does not feel as I do, Louisa. I promise you that. You told me yourself that men like him do not make you happy. I am the man you want, Louisa. I am all that you want.”
She could see his frustration in his clear blue eyes, and his longing and desire. Louisa felt miserable.
The Secret of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 4) Page 10