Home to Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 3) (23 page)

Chapter Seventy-One

    
 
T
he crowds gathered alongside the river in the early morning light. An occasional bit of ice drifted by in the brisk water, but the air was warm and the day beautiful. The official greeted the contestants warmly, laughing at jokes about who they should favor and who ought to win.

      “You lose when you fall in the drink!” The man kidded. “But, I’ll take those homemade pies at any rate!”

      A short dock jutted out into the water at the deep inlet where the river slowed. Along the banks huge logs had been gathered, in a roped off surround, each with a wide red stripe painted clearly around the center.

      Timothy Elgerson and Roland Vancouver had been at the site for nearly an hour, stomping around, warming up their leg muscles for the competition. They had both missed the log rolling contest over the past couple of years, but Timothy was determined to regain his title and Roland was ready to stop him. The current champion, a lofty Swede from a mill several miles east of Billington, eyed the two men from his position in the crowd. He noticed that both the Elgerson and Vancouver men were tall, but at six foot eight he was sure he had the advantage over both of them. Karl Almquist rubbed his hands together vigorously in the crisp morning air and scowled in the direction of the Elgerson family.

      “Almquist looks pretty determined,” Mark chuckled.

      Rebecca shook her head at what she saw as healthy competition by the men. Having never witnessed the event in the past, she looked forward to the fun of the games.

      Emma stood beside Colleen who held the infant Samuel in her arms. Ottland and Phillip tugged at her skirts, jealous for her attention.

      “When you and Mark have a child of your own you will break their hearts,” Emma joked.

      Mark furrowed his brow slightly. Since Emma’s son had been born, Colleen talked of nothing else. He wanted a family, but he preferred to wait. He knew an infant in the house would take all of their attention.

      “Ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer began. “Welcome to the thirty-second annual Billington Log Rolling Competition!”

      The crowd applauded enthusiastically, a group of nearly two hundred.

      “This year we are in for a very exciting contest! We, of course, welcome our current champion Karl Almquist!”

       The crowed whistled and cheered.

      “We also have our past champion and log roller extraordinaire, Timothy Elgerson and the fleet footed Roland Vancouver!”

      The crowd burst into shouting and whooping. “Old man Elgerson!” someone yelled. “You’ve lost it, Elgerson,” called out another. “Vancouver will beat all of you,” yet another voice rang out. Timothy held his hands together and shook them over his head, sending the gathering into squalls of laughter.

      “Let’s go over the rules,” the announcer began. “Rule number one, first man in the water is eliminated. Number two, any man who crosses the red center line on the log to his opponent’s side is eliminated. No contact with each other. And, I know it won’t do much good, but I’m going to say it again as I do every year!” The crowd nodded to each other, knowing what the announcer was about to say. “There will be no dunking and absolutely no fighting. Any contestant who shows poor sportsmanship will be immediately eliminated!”

      The crowd all nodded, chuckling among themselves.

      “Let the games begin!” The announcer stepped from the dock and the assistants took over.

      Men maneuvered a small raft to the timber, extracted one log from the surround and pushed it with paddles to the dock, then rowed away. Two assistants moved to the end of the dock with long poles and the first contestants stepped forward.

      The crowd clapped and whistled, some calling out to the men about to compete.

      The entrants each took hold of one of the long poles, using it for balance and stepped out onto the floating log.

      As they began to roll the wood beneath their feet they moved out into the river. They rolled the log faster, both trying to remain standing on the timber while attempting to upset the other, causing him to fall into the frigid water. One man began to step quickly, setting the log to spinning and the other man fell, splashing into the river.

      The crowd cheered loudly.

      The contestant who remained on the log rolled it back towards the dock and grabbed onto the offered pole. After several minutes he stepped back onto the log, another competitor joining him on the timber.

      Through a process of elimination, dozens of loggers tried their best to remain upright but few lasted more than three or four matches. It was late afternoon when Roland Vancouver was called to the dock.

      The family cheered loudly, clapping their hands and shouting words of encouragement. Emma smiled proudly to see her husband enjoying yet another activity he would have missed with his injury. “Good to see you back on your feet, Vancouver,” a man’s voice rang out from the crowd, followed by a wave of clapping.

      Roland bowed to the gathering gallantly, took hold of the pole and stepped out onto the log. Quickly his opponent plunked into the river and he bowed again stepping back onto the dock as the throng applauded.

      After Roland had upset nearly a dozen competitors, Karl Almquist stepped forward. Roland looked up at him and then to the crowd. “Put him in the river!” someone yelled. “Get him wet,” called out another. The Elgerson family laughed and clapped encouragingly.

      Roland and Karl stepped out onto the log and began to roll. The log spun quickly, one direction and then the other, but both men remained upright. Roland nearly slipped once, but he quickly regained his footing. Karl stepped quickly and at one point hopped on one foot trying to maintain his balance. Then, after nearly forty minutes, Almquist spun the log hurriedly and Roland plunged into the water with a loud splash.

      The crowd groaned and Roland bobbed up in the river and shook his head. The stream of water flung from his hair and slapped across Karl’s chest loudly as the man tried to step into the dock. Karl Almquist missed his footing and plopped into the water while the crowd laughed loudly. When the man had pulled himself up on the dock his face was red with anger.

      “Get up here, Vancouver,” he yelled towards the water angrily.

      “So you can get yourself eliminated?” Roland called back as he bobbed in the cold water. “Alright, it might be worth taking a punch,” he laughed.

      Karl stomped his foot and walked away from the dock. Roland swam to the shore and pulled himself from the water as the mob cheered.

     
      “The final matchup will be between Karl Almquist and Timothy Elgerson,” the announcer called out.

      The gathering whooped and cheered loudly as Timothy stomped up onto the dock. When Karl returned they booed adamantly.

      The two men took hold of the poles and stepped out onto the log. Karl began to spin the log backwards, the timber rolling quickly from the dock. Timothy Elgerson stepped swiftly and changed the direction of the log abruptly and Karl fell back flat into the water.

      The crowd went wild cheering and men threw their hats into the air. “Elgerson is back!” One man called out and the mass roared.

      Karl swam quickly to the log and gave the timber a hard turn as Timothy bowed to the crowd and Elgerson tumbled into the water.

      When he emerged from the dunking his face was met with the hard fist of Karl Almquist and Timothy fell back into the river.

      The crowd yelled out. “Eliminate him!”

      Rebecca screamed softly and ran to the dock.

      Roland stood dripping wet and shook his head, chuckling to himself.

      “Fool,” Mark muttered aloud.

      “That’s terrible!” Colleen gasped.

      The announcer ran to the end of the dock and looked out over the water. Timothy Elgerson was nowhere in sight.

      Karl swam to the edge of the dock and pulled himself up, his face twisted in anger. He stood and looked down at Rebecca who put her hands on her hips and faced the man.

      “You brute!” she scolded.

      Karl tossed his head back and laughed at the little angry woman and began to walk away.

      Rebecca grabbed the man’s arm and he turned to face her. “If you’ve hurt my husband I will…” her voice trailed off as she saw Timothy emerge from the river and pull himself upright on the shore.

      Karl gave Rebecca a light shove and brushed past her.

      Timothy strode up to the man and grabbed him by the shirt collar.

      “Is he eliminated?” he yelled out.

      “Karl Almquist has been eliminated,” the official bellowed. “Timothy Elgerson is this year’s winner.”

      Timothy Elgerson’s iron fist met the jaw of Karl Almquist and the bigger man fell back into the mud. “That’s for putting your hand on my wife.”

       Rebecca ran to Timothy’s side and grabbed onto his arm as the crowd cheered wildly.

      “You alright?” He looked down at her affectionately.

      “Fine,” she smiled with relief.

      Rebecca Elgerson held the drenched arm of her husband with pride and he shook hands through the crowd proudly. She stood beside him when they pinned the ribbon to his dripping shirt.

      Several men helped Karl Almquist to his feet and he shook his head and walked away.

      “Do they fight every year?” Emma eyed Roland suspiciously.

      “Worst black eye I ever had came from Tim’s fist one year,” Roland shook his head.

      Mark laughed aloud and took Louisa’s hand.

      “He hit you?” Colleen gasped.

      “Only after I hit him.” Roland watched Timothy Elgerson shaking hands on the dock. “We both got eliminated that year,” he chuckled.

      “It was great!” Mark laughed.

      Colleen looked at Emma as she handed her the infant and both women shook their heads slowly.

      The crowd gathered in the clearing where rows of tables had been set with enormous contributions of food by every family that had attended. Rebecca had supplied a massive tray of pastries and Roland had baked several pies under Emma’s watchful eye while she rested after having her baby. Blocks of pressed butter, filled with Colleen’s herbs, were enjoyed by all. In little time Karl and Timothy were toasting with large mugs of dark ale and laughing good naturedly, recalling their match.

      Rebecca, Emma and Colleen all agreed that they could not make sense of the whole situation.

      Bernadette Shofield watched Mark and Colleen laughing together, easy with one another as she always wished her and Mark would be. She watched him kiss her forehead and casually tug one of her curls as he stood beside her, as if it were something he had done every day. His arm lay across her shoulder and he laughed aloud and looked down at the young woman affectionately.

      She watched Colleen bounce the family toddlers on her knee and fawn over a baby tenderly. It was not their child, she knew, but it foretold what would likely be, and Bernadette sighed.

      Her own child would arrive soon and she felt no affection for it. The orphanage would be fine, she told herself, unless Jude returned and then maybe they could be a family like Mark and Colleen.

Chapter Seventy-Two

    
 
M
ark Elgerson stood alongside his young wife listening to the recommendations of the surveyor. As he had suspected, Colleen’s suggestion about the location of the new house would be an improvement over the original. This pleased him immensely. He wanted the place to be his own, not the Weintraub’s any longer. He envisioned a tall archway as you entered the ranch, proudly bearing the
Elgerson
name. He also saw a new brand, modeled after the original Elgerson design, but modified to a symbol that was all his.

      Colleen discussed what direction the house would face with the assessor as Mark’s mind drifted. They had already had several discussions about the layout. He had agreed with her suggestions. The house and every detail about it was vastly important to her. He’d rather think about how much stock he would start with and whether he had time for spring breeding.

      The surveyor shook Mark’s hand, wishing him luck and pulled out in his wagon. Mark laid his arm across Colleen’s shoulders and the couple looked out over the land.

      “The men will be here early in the morning. It won’t be long before we’ll be standing right here on our own porch,” Mark smiled.

      “Well, it will take some time.” Colleen looked up to him, anxious for the night they would be alone together in their own home.

      “I think you’ll be shocked, Colleen.” He looked into her eyes. “When my father brought in carpenters to build the Vancouver house they moved in after only ten days.”

      “Ten days!” Colleen looked up in shock. “That house is massive!”

      “That’s what I mean. I think we need to ride into town this afternoon and pick out a new stove and some furniture so it can be ready when the house is up.”

      “Saints in heaven,” Colleen whispered softly, looking out over the land.

      Colleen Elgerson became more and more relieved that she had taken her husband’s advice about ordering things for the house when the walls began to rise. She rode out after breakfast each morning to find Mark, his father and Roland Vancouver, along with a dozen carpenters, plumbers and masons working diligently on the house. At the end of each day the progress they had made astounded her. Back at Stavewood she babbled on about her plans and where each item belonged in the house while Mark slid exhausted into a hot bath.

      Colleen didn’t mind so much that he was not as eager for lovemaking at night when they crawled into the big bed because her mind was filled with making a home. She would curl up beside his tired body and whisper her plans until she felt his deep breathing, then she would smile and drift off herself, dreaming of lace curtains, new pieces of furniture and babies.

      Colleen had hoped to miss her time of the month after their honeymoon, but, when she did not, decided that it was best to wait until the house was finished and her garden was established anyway.

      Emma and Rebecca sat in the shade of the massive weeping willow that now was some distance from the front of the new house and drew out plans for a large garden that allowed for a generous selection of herbs. Mark had agreed that they could easily purchase another cow so that Colleen could make her butters and the hotel in Billington had placed a large daily order. Colleen was thrilled that they would pick up the butter each day and she could enjoy creating her spreads without the inconvenience of having to make daily deliveries.

      Taking time from the building process as the carpenters and cabinetmakers neared completion on the house, Mark, along with two farmhands from Stavewood, tilled and dug the garden.

      In less than two weeks the family was unpacking wagonloads of furniture and bundles of packages from the shops into the house while Colleen and the women directed. Rebecca took over folding and putting away linens into the myriad of closets, while instructing the maids how to hang curtains and make up the beds.

      Emma directed the placement of several pieces of furniture, per Colleen’s wishes, and Mark stopped in the hallway shaking his head. It seemed as if every detail of the moving process was planned to the last detail. When he found Colleen on a short ladder putting dishes in the cabinets he laughed and headed outside.

      Roland and Timothy lounged beneath the willow, the toddlers running about happily on the wide lawn while baby Samuel slept soundly on a quilt with Émigré watching over him closely.

      “I see the dog has got a job too.” Mark lowered himself onto the blanket in the cool shade and the animal licked his hand in greeting.

      “You ought to think about getting one out here,” Roland commented. “It made a big difference that night. You never know who might come around here.”

      Mark nodded solemnly. He looked down to the house and admired the comfortable look of the building. The house was wide and low. One section showcased a second floor which held two bedrooms, but all the other living areas were on one floor. Across the single level of the house stretched a wide porch with a railing, open only in the center by the front door. The fresh white clapboard shone in the sunlight with deep green shutters at each window that blended well into the emerald landscape.

      “It’s a good looking place,” Timothy remarked, leaning on one elbow. “It seems your bride is pleased.”

      “Colleen hasn’t stopped talking since we started building,” Mark chuckled.

      Roland laughed. “She’ll wear herself out eventually. When we moved into our place Emma ran in circles for about two weeks. Then suddenly she sat down and was silent. It’ll come,” he nodded.

      “I keep thinking of the farm where I found her. No food, no heat. It was no better than living in a barn. These barns are like castles compared to the place. It was pitiful. I’m glad I could get her out of there.”

      The men nodded and enjoyed relaxing in the afternoon sunlight. In the distance they could hear the women calling to each other and occasionally one would appear and shade her eyes looking out to where they lounged. Timothy or Roland would signal that everyone was fine and the woman would duck back inside. When little Samuel began to fuss, Roland carried him down to the house, gave him to Emma and returned to the shade.

      Rebecca walked across the lawn bearing a large tray of cold beverages and knelt down on the quilt beside Mark. Ottland and Phillip guzzled down the drinks and the men toasted one another over a job well done.

      “The house is adorable,” Rebecca remarked. “Colleen has everything so perfectly organized in her mind you’ll never know you just moved in by the end of the day. I’m exhausted.”

      Mark chuckled and took Rebecca’s hand.

      “I can’t tell you all how much all of this means to me, and to Colleen. You’ve all given us so much.”

      “As long as you’re home,” Timothy nodded.

      Mark looked at each one of them in appreciation. They sat silently, enjoying the afternoon. Soon the maids waved as they walked back to Stavewood.

      Emma finished feeding Samuel and walked out to join the family on the lawn.

      “What is Colleen doing now?” Mark wondered aloud.

      “You’ll see,” Emma smiled.

      After about thirty minutes Colleen walked out onto the porch in her apron, carrying a small stool. She set the stool down and climbed up onto it, reached up to the ceiling of the covered porch and hung something from the spindles, then stepped down.

      Mark sat up and tried to make out what she was doing. She disappeared back inside briefly with the stool and then came back out onto the porch empty handed. She shaded her eyes and looked for a moment at the family lounging on the lawn, then pulled an object from her pocket.

      Colleen took the small metal bar, put it inside the object she had hung up and rattled it around, creating a loud ringing.

      “It’s a triangle!” Mark laughed.

      “It must be suppertime!” Timothy exclaimed.

      The family pulled themselves to their feet and headed down the hill towards the house.

      “It worked!” Colleen chuckled as they approached.

      “Ingenious!” Timothy remarked as he walked into the house. “I guarantee that Mark will always come home for a dinner bell!”

      Roland slapped Mark on the shoulder and Rebecca ruffled his hair.

      The families pulled out chairs and sat down for their first of many meals together at Mark and Colleen Elgerson’s table.