Home to Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 3) (15 page)

Chapter Forty-Eight

     
M
ark listened to the rattle of the milk cans in the wagon and the wheezing of the old horse clomping along in the crisp morning air. He watched Colleen step down from the wagon repeatedly, lifting heavy cans and straining to lug them to the doorways of their customers. He knew the value of a hard day’s work, but the labor that she went through every day, twice a day, was grueling. When he got her back to Stavewood, he thought, he could put her in the big guest room on the third floor. There was a huge fireplace in there, and a bath. One thing he knew that Rebecca treasured, as a woman, was a nice hot bath. Colleen deserved that and much more. He also wondered what she might accomplish in a kitchen with a larder like the one at home. He heard his stomach growl.

      “They paid,” she muttered under her breath. “All of it.”

      Mark nodded to her.

      “It’s time,” he grumbled through the heavy scarf.

      He led the horse at a steady pace down the side street and shortly they were out of the more populated areas of town. He reached up to expose his face so that he could catch his breath and Colleen stopped him abruptly.

      “Not until we are away from here. Look!” She indicated an approaching coach.

      Mark nodded and replaced the scarf.

      The couple parked the wagon near a farm where the house was not terribly far from the road, in hopes that the farmer would see the horse left there and take him in.

      Colleen stroked the animal’s back and whispered her goodbyes and they walked towards the train station as casually as possible. Colleen was fighting her sobs and Mark’s heart was racing with fear. They walked to where they found a secluded spot and Mark pulled off the milkman’s uniform and stuffed it into a rotting tree trunk. Then he rewrapped the scarf around his face. He wished he could just give it to Colleen to warm her raw hands.

      She bought two tickets, alone, the fare being much higher than she expected and when she returned to Mark’s side he could see her expression was strained.

      “The tickets cost nearly everything,” she sighed.

      Mark had hoped there would be enough that he might wire his father once they had left the area. He knew he would send money immediately and Mark was certain that everyone at home was sick with worry.

      “It’s alright,” he muttered to her. “As long as we can get to Stavewood.”

      They sat upright and rigid on the hard benches of the passenger car waiting for the train to pull out of the station. Colleen had purchased express tickets, as Mark had instructed. Once they left the station there would not be a stop for several hours and they would be miles away.

      Colleen watched Missouri slide away as the big locomotive began to chug out of the station and her eyes filled with tears. She knew little about where she was going, only what Mark had told her. If he was a murderer and had used her to escape she had been quite helpful. She looked up at him as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck and he smiled down at her with relief and affection.

      “We’re going home to Stavewood, Colleen. Say goodbye.” He smiled a smile broader than any she yet had seen on his face.

      Colleen took his hand and kissed the back of it, holding her lips there for a moment, pressing back all of her fears.

      “It will be a better life, Colleen. I promise you that.” He lifted his hand and kissed hers, then took the scarf and wrapped it around both of their hands together. “You’ll see. You’ll never want to leave.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

    
T
imothy Elgerson paced between his study and the office he had built for his son at the estate. Rebecca was gaining back her strength and the daily telegrams he exchanged with the Barite sheriff still brought him no news. He felt compelled to return to Missouri even if it was only to find his son’s body. At supper he would bring up the subject, he decided. He would set a time frame. Travel there, he thought, stay for a certain amount of time, and then return. This time he would go see the families that lived in the hills. It might be risky, but there might be some information. He knew it would be difficult for that grieving father who believed his son had killed his daughter, but he was grieving as well. Perhaps if he could find the real killer, the girl’s father would cooperate with him.

      He could hire men, he thought, dozens of men to comb the woods until they found Mark. Even if he had to bring his son home the way Samuel Evens had come back then at least he would know.

      Timothy decided that many of his thoughts were not suitable dinner conversation and took the stairs two at a time up to the master bedroom. He would discuss it with Rebecca privately and then begin arrangements to leave.

      She sat at her dressing table gazing into the mirror, and when he entered the room and stood awkwardly she knew exactly what was on his mind.

      “I feel much better today. I’m so glad you came home to spend some time with me,” she began. “But, it’s time for you to go finish looking, I know.”

      Timothy sighed and sat on the bed, his shoulders sagging.

      “I can’t stay, and I can’t go. What’s the use? I can’t look for him from here, but I did everything I could while I was down there. What else can I do?” He looked up to the ceiling, his face twisted in pain.

      “Do you want to go?” Rebecca turned on the bench and watched him anguishing.

      “I don’t know.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “I could just go all that way for nothing. Maybe I’ll never find him.” It was the first time that he had said anything aloud that sounded like giving up hope.

      Rebecca wished with all of her heart that she had some answer, that there was something, anything she could say to ease his pain. She was so caught herself between hoping and wanting Mark home but then maybe having to accept the terrible possibility that he was gone. She knew her husband well, and she was certain that while he was in Missouri he had done everything he could to find his son.

      “What would we tell Louisa?” Timothy looked at her with pain in his eyes. “She’s so sure he’s going to come home. She’s so young. I don’t even know how I would begin to tell her.”

      Rebecca crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her husband and placed her hand on his wide shoulder.

      “There’s nothing we need to say to her about it today,” she suggested and clung to his arm.

Chapter Fifty

    
 
O
nce the fear of being caught while trying to escape Barite began to fade, Mark became increasingly anxious to get home and Colleen grew apprehensive about meeting Mark’s family.

      The miles seemed endless as they rolled through dreary winter landscapes, frozen waterways and deserted stations. A group of lawmen boarded the train once, sitting across from the couple and setting them on edge for nearly fifty miles, but they paid no attention to Mark and Colleen and left the train without incident.

      Mark was exhausted, certainly not completely healed from his injuries and the monotonous traveling left Colleen feeling drained and fatigued. When the food ran out in the middle of the second day both of them grew listless and suffered from headaches.

      Mark studied the schedule in the station during a rest stop. He took the few pennies they had left and purchased two apples. The fruit was leathery and partially dehydrated and the two of them ate it ravenously on the evening of the last leg of their trip.

      “In the morning we’ll be home. We’ll get there in time for breakfast. We can have that maple syrup I told you about. We’ll eat all we want. We can sit in the kitchen all day and eat whatever we can hold. You’ll see, Colleen. You’ll see.”

      Colleen looked up at his haggard expression and touched his cheek. The dark hollows beneath his eyes worried her.

      “How will we get to your house from the station? There’s no more money.”

      “We can walk.”

      “Walk? You look like you’re about to fall over and I’m not sure I’m much better.” Colleen thought her insides were gnawing through her and she felt lightheaded and strange.

      “It’s just a little ways.” Mark put his arm around her shoulder and closed his eyes. Colleen finished the last bites of her apple and let her head fall back against his shoulder. In a few hours they would be there and another adventure would begin.

      The whistle blew and Colleen’s eyes flew open.

      “Ellllgeeerrrrsoooonnn Milllls!” the porter called out.

      He said it, Colleen thought. The name. Elgerson. It was real.

      “Mark!” She shook her companion and he opened his eyes slowly.

      “We’re here,” she choked. “Elgerson Mills, just like you said.”

      Mark lifted his head groggily and looked out of the hazy window. He was sure he was dreaming and he rubbed his eyes with his fists.

      Colleen stood up and tugged at his arm. He staggered to his feet and it was clear to her that he was not doing well.

      “We’re almost there.” She led him off the train and supported him on the platform. The brisk air of the winter morning hit them and Mark shook his head.

      “Which way?” Colleen looked around at the tall trees and big mills, quiet on a Sunday morning.

     “That way. Up the path,” Mark indicated.

      They staggered together through the packed snow, Colleen supporting him whenever Mark felt weak or dizzy.

      When the forest spread out before them and Colleen set eyes on the estate she nearly collapsed.

      “Saints in heaven,” she whispered.

Chapter Fifty-One

    
 
T
imothy Elgerson poured his coffee in the kitchen as usual and pulled on his heavy boots. He had not visited the mills in weeks and taking advantage of a quiet post-holiday weekend to do some paper work seemed like a good way to get things off his mind.

      He pulled on his wool lined suede jacket and set his hat firmly on his head, then stepped out onto the back porch.

      Timothy scowled. It hadn’t happened in several years but this morning he could clearly see two vagabonds trudging up the pathway from the mills. They likely got kicked off the train, he thought. He’d give them some food, as he used to do, and a ride into town.

      He decided to toss down his coffee first. They looked ragged and exhausted and he might have to hold them up.

      Timothy sighed, drank down his brew and peered at the pair.

      He looked again and shook his head slowly.

      Timothy took off his hat and shielded his eyes against the glare of the snow.

      The girl looked up and she stopped. He felt certain he had seen her face before.

      She spoke to the man who staggered beside her with his face down.

      He looked up.

      Timothy Elgerson threw his coffee cup into the snow pile beside the porch and ran across the yard, his chest tightening and his eyes brimming with tears.

       “Mark?” He reached his son and the boy fell into his father’s arms. “Oh, thank God!” Timothy held the boy to him.

      “Pa,” Mark uttered, swallowing hard, his lips quivering.

      Timothy looked up at the girl, her face pale as if in shock and he recalled where he had her.

      “I thought you were a lawman,” she muttered.

     “Colleen, this is my father.” Mark swayed.

      Colleen Muldoon nearly fainted from the realization that this big man had been standing in her house. Mark could have left long ago.

      “I thought you wanted to arrest him,” she tried to explain.

      Timothy looked at her and nodded. “You brought him home, that’s all that matters.

      “Welcome to Stavewood, Colleen.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

   
 
B
irget tied her apron strings around her generous waist and sighed. The scent of coffee drifted up the stairs from the kitchen. It seemed no matter how early in the morning she got out of her bed, Tim was there before her. She’d at least try to get a good breakfast into him before he started his day, she thought. She walked down the back stairs and the door flew open in front of her.

      “Mark’s home!” Timothy bellowed through the house and the woman nearly jumped out of her skin.

      “Oh, my heavens!” Birget hurried to the boy’s side and hugged him ferociously. “We all nearly died of worry!” she gasped. “And who’s this?” She eyed the girl up and down.

      Neither wore proper coats, or even warm clothing and both of them looked pale and starving.

      “Birget, this is Colleen, my fiancée.” Mark slipped into a chair at the big table.

      “Fiancée?” Timothy shook his head and ran up the stairs to wake the family.

      “You two look like you both could use a good meal!” Birget thought Mark appeared unusually thin and the girl no better. She didn’t know where he’d found the lass, but she had that fine complexion Birget recognized and she was a pretty as a picture, she thought.

      “We are starving.” Mark fought to keep his mind clear. “Can you make us a big breakfast please, and cover it all with maple syrup?”

      Birget hurried to set out rolls and mounds of fruit and heated up her heavy skillet.

      Mark and Colleen tore into the food ravenously, both quickly regaining some strength.

      “Mark!” Rebecca ran into the kitchen in her dressing gown and threw her arms around him. “Oh, you cannot imagine how worried we all were!” She turned to Colleen and smiled beautifully. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

      “I don’t imagine I could have stopped him even if I wanted to,” Colleen blushed. “He just wanted to be back at Stavewood.” Colleen was beginning to see why.

      “Oh, Tim!” Rebecca gasped. “You have to ride over and tell Emma and Roland!”

      “On my way,” Timothy smiled. “Good to have you home, son.” Timothy patted Mark’s shoulder and headed out the door.

      Timothy Elgerson stood in the middle of the yard and looked up at the big house. He let a tear fall that he would never allow anyone to see. He didn’t know where his son had been, or why, or what he was doing calling the milkmaid his fiancée, but it didn’t matter. The boy was home and everything else would be alright.

      “Mark, Mark, Mark!” Louisa leapt from the stairs and climbed into her brother’s lap. “You made us all so worried. Mama got so upset she won’t even be able to have her new baby now. Why didn’t you come home?”

      Mark looked up at Rebecca questioningly and she nodded her head discreetly.

      “And we had to have Christmas without you, but we’re going to have another. I’m so sad about Sam, but I knew you’d be back.”

      Mark smoothed the child’s hair and kissed her forehead. “I missed you all so much.” He swallowed hard.

      “Who are you?” Louisa looked at Colleen suspiciously.

      “Loo, this is Colleen. She brought me home.”

      “Thank you,” Louisa frowned. “Are you going home now?”

      “Louisa!” Rebecca scolded. “Of course she’s not going home now! She brought Mark all the way back from Missouri.”

      “Colleen is staying here now.” Mark looked at Rebecca seriously. “I’ll tell you all why after breakfast.”

      Rebecca nodded with trust and smiled at Colleen. “If Mark says she stays, then she stays.”

      Louisa frowned.

      “Louisa,” Colleen said to the child softly. “That is the name of my favorite poetess.”

      Phillip toddled into the kitchen and looked up at his big brother.

      “And you!” Mark lifted the child into the air and, feeling a bit dizzy, set him on his knee. “Look how much you have grown while I was away! You look even more like Grandfather.”

      Phillip smiled at Colleen shyly and the young woman put out her hands. He went to her easily and Colleen tousled his hair.

      Rebecca nodded to Mark with approval.

      Birget chuckled and she began setting out stacks of pancakes as Emma and Roland arrived with Ottland. Everyone was barely awake, but filled with relief and excitement.

      Mark hugged them all between mouthfuls and introduced Colleen who sat quietly with little Phillip on her lap eating fruit.

      Ottland walked over to the girl and looked up, watching Phillip eating merrily.

      “Dada!” he announced and put up his arms.

      The family laughed as Colleen scooped him up and both boys smiled broadly.