Home to Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 3) (26 page)

Chapter Seventy-Seven

     
T
he town square in Billington City was crowded with onlookers on a warm summer day in 1908. The days of public hangings had passed now, but inside the walls of the yard behind the jail house Jude Thomas would face the gallows before a small handful of lawmen and witnesses.

      Jude had been measured and weighed and everything had been calculated to make the long drop quick and effective.

      An announcement would be made to the public once the man’s death was declared. He had been tried and convicted.

      Many in Billington City thought it was finally justice, feeling it should have happened many years ago.

      Old man Shofield carried a bottle in his shaking hand as he worked his way through the crowd. His daughter was gone now, her child lost as well. He cursed Jude Thomas for manipulating him. He unzipped his trousers and urinated onto the lawn of a home in the center of town.

      “Hey there, you old bum!” someone yelled out. Old man Shofield zipped his pants, spat on the ground and staggered home.

      Mina Caudell turned her head beneath her feathered bonnet and surveyed the crowd. She searched for Roland Vancouver and found him nowhere in the throng. She saw him only occasionally now, always with that slender blond, several children in tow. He had more sons, she knew, but with the Elgerson brats around as well she was never certain how many he had fathered with the exception of the first who matched his father’s looks perfectly.

      Mina looked up at the jailhouse imagining Jude inside. She had visited him once since he had been arrested this time and she was repulsed by him. His teeth were rotting and he had a yellow cast to his skin. He certainly was not the man she had taken to her bed when she thought Roland impotent. Mina shook her head and climbed into her carriage at the end of the street thinking she ought to consider moving to Saint Paul. Time was beginning to paint its telltale lines upon her face and if she wanted a husband she knew she ought to set herself to the task.

      At the Stavewood estate and the surrounding homes the families went about their business.     

      Timothy rose early, as was his custom. He rode Cannonball out into the fields, allowing him to race at the breakneck speed the horse loved with the big man clinging to his back, the wind whipping through his hair. Rebecca arranged her coif carefully and gathered her menus for the week. She checked the house accounts and met with the cook, inspecting the larder and servant’s schedule for the month. She enjoyed breakfast with her children, smiling proudly at Louisa’s sketches of the garden and laughing at Phillip’s antics with her new baby in her arms.

      Roland slipped his hand underneath the warm feathers of the chicken and extracted another egg, filling the basket. The eggs were several shades of soft blues, white and browns with firm shells. Emma smiled at him in the kitchen and set a generous plate of food before him and he looked around the table with pride at his children. Roland loved being a father and a husband as well.

      Colleen wiped her hands on her apron and walked carefully across the yard, trying not to slosh the milk in the big pail. She stopped and shaded her eyes as she watched Mark gently trotting Strawberry around the corral with Katie bouncing happily on the horse’s back. He’d sat that child on a horse as soon as she was able to hold up her head and, although she wasn’t yet able to muck out a barn, she was clearly part of the Elgerson ranch. Mark was an exemplary father and the child filled their hearts with love and joy every day.

      Isabel had run her errands a day early to avoid being in town for the spectacle of Jude Thomas’ hanging. Some things in life were unfortunate, yet unavoidable, she thought. She washed her plate from her solitary breakfast and donned her apron for a morning of quiet weeding.

      Nils Evens watched the gathering crowd spilling over along the main street from his porch. Catherine stepped out beside him and shook her head. “Let’s go out for a ride today,” Nils suggested. “Out that way,” he said, pointing away from town.

      “I’ll get my bonnet,” Catherine nodded.

      When Ben Carson stepped forth from the jailhouse a hush fell over the crowd.

      “On this day of July six, nineteen hundred and eight, Jude Jefferson Thomas has been hung from the gallows for the crime of stealing horses. May he rest in peace.”

      Ben looked up, thinking the crowd might cheer, as they often did on days such as this, but instead they all bowed silently and began to disperse.

      Timothy Elgerson stomped his boots on the porch at Stavewood and went inside his home to join his family for breakfast. In his heart he felt relief and sorrow and he kissed his wife and then his children and sat down in his big wooden chair.

Chapter Seventy-Eight

    
 
T
en years later, Louisa Elgerson stepped down from the coach at the end of the drive at Stavewood and looked up at the big house. Although she tried to visit home every time she could, her teaching kept her busy, and her stories of growing up in beautiful northern Minnesota took time to type and correct. One day, if she was lucky, someone might hold a book with the story of Stavewood in their hands, a book she had written about the stories of her life and the love she had known there.

      On this late summer day in August of 1918 there would be a gala at the estate. Her father had built Stavewood twenty-five years ago and Louisa thought it should be marked by a celebration. The invitations had been designed carefully and sent far and wide.

      Louisa had arrived early, she had one last thing she wanted to do before the tables were set and the guests began to arrive. She hurried to the stables and gathered an apron in the early light of dawn and a narrow shovel. She pulled away the canvas that covered her bushes she had hidden there. She walked out to the gazebo that sat in the center of the garden and thrust the shovel into the rich earth.

      When Louisa had finished her planting her apron was streaked with mud, her hands filthy and her heart filled with joy. She nodded with satisfaction, put the shovel back into the stable, and headed for the house. She passed the birdhouse there, in the center of the vegetable garden, the perfect replica of Stavewood and a warm reminder of Samuel Evens. From the tiny doorway long strands of meadow grass protruded, evidence that the birdhouse was occupied yet again, as it had been every spring since it had been installed. A handsome chickadee popped out of the little doorway and stood on the miniature railing chirping happily. Louisa expected the birdhouse in the Vancouver garden was occupied as well.

      “What are you up to so early in the morning?” Timothy Elgerson eyed his daughter suspiciously as he stood in the kitchen looking out of the window to the yard.

      “Good morning, Dad,” Louisa laughed. “Do you ever sleep or do you just come down here when everyone goes to bed and wait so it looks like you’re up before anyone?”

      “You found me out,” Timothy chuckled and turned to watch her pour herself a cup of coffee.

      Louisa was the picture of her mother, her sable hair falling down her back to her waist, her face like the portrait of a porcelain doll, her figure slender and lithe. The light summer dress fell soft and flowing in slender lines beneath her apron. Louisa showed her ankles now, as many of the women did and Timothy thought it looked young, carefree and attractive on her. The one thing Louisa did not get from her mother was her height. At five foot seven she was taller than most women and with her independent nature she stood out in any crowd.

      Louisa looked at her father fondly. At fifty-two Timothy Elgerson remained robust for his age, most of his contemporaries having long grown inactive. His once golden hair still fell uncut, as it had as long as Louisa could remember, but now shone a soft silvery white. His face was tanned and lined in a way that the young woman found warm and friendly.

      “Loo!” Rebecca gasped as she entered the room. “You’re here this early?”

      “Good morning, Mama.” Louisa kissed her mother’s soft cheek. Rebecca’s hair had remained dark, in deep contrast to her husband, but her face had softened and Louisa saw she moved with the same grace as in past years, but more slowly now.

      Rebecca smiled at her daughter with pride. “Your dress is upstairs. I finished it yesterday and I’ll do your hair right after breakfast. However did you get so dirty?”

      “Thanks, Mama.” Louisa avoided her mother’s question. “Where are the boys?”

      “They had a little pre-celebration last night, racing out by the barn until late. I expect they’ll be up soon enough.” No sooner had Rebecca spoken than the young men of Stavewood began to pile into the big kitchen.

      Phillip, at sixteen, was every inch an Elgerson, tall and filling the room with his boisterous manner and good looks.

      “Loo!” he hollered. “Nice choice for the party today.”

      Louisa pulled off her muddied apron and wiped her hands. She knew she could always count on her brother for his honest opinion.

      Phillip was soon followed by Noah and Jake, both nearly as tall as their father at twelve and fourteen, years of mill work giving them broad shoulders and strong limbs. “Loo!” they yelled in unison.

      Louisa shook her head at how crowded the massive kitchen could become when filled with the big men of Stavewood. In the middle of the collection sat her mother, her hair dark contrasting with all of the boys, more petite than ever. Louisa smiled and climbed the back stairs.

      “You look beautiful!” Rebecca stepped back and admired Louisa’s chiffon dress.

      “Thanks, Mama. You always make me the most beautiful things. Do you need any help getting dressed?”

      “No, no,” Rebecca shook her head. “You go down. The Vancouvers will be arriving soon and Mark and Colleen will be so glad to see you. I’ll be down shortly.”

      Louisa watched her mother slip from the room, and felt entirely emotional.

      When the Vancouver wagon pulled into the yard the eldest son of the family leapt out nimbly and stood surveying the yard.

      “Where’s the party?” Ottland called out as Louisa walked out onto the porch, the other boys jumping out behind him.

      “Louisa!” Emma hurried to the girl and hugged her warmly. Roland stepped down from the wagon and grinned broadly, his hair streaked now with grey. He was still handsome, Louisa thought.

      “Good to see you.” Roland hugged Louisa as well. “Mark here yet?”

      “I haven’t seen him.” Louisa looked at Emma, more slender than ever, her lanky sons pacing the yard excitedly.

      Ottland had his father’s dark looks, well-built and slender. Samuel and James were both fair like Emma with freckled faces and broad shoulders. Louisa had to admit that, with such a collection of handsome men around, it was no wonder that none of the men she had met ever seemed to measure up.

     “Where’s this party I keep hearing about, Elgerson?” Samuel called to Louisa’s brothers as they emerged from the house and joined them in the yard.

      When Katie rode up the road on her champion filly she kicked the horse to a fast run, pulled into the group of men and reined the horse hard, sending a spray of gravel into the group.

      “Hey!” Ottland grabbed the reins. “If your father saw you doing that he’d tan your behind!”

      Katie tossed her head back and laughed aloud, knowing full well that her father appreciated her skill on a horse. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, a soft, fawn brown and her eyes were wide and intelligent. Katie Elgerson had won every competition in the entire state on the back of a horse and she was afraid of nothing. Growing up with Mark’s gentle protection and Colleen’s firm hand she had confidence, a quick wit and a gentle beauty.

      Mark pulled up in the wagon with Colleen beside him and he leapt from the high seat.

      “Loo!” He strode swiftly to his sister and pulled her to him warmly. “I sure missed you!” At thirty-five Mark Elgerson was a fine man. He was handsome and well respected throughout the area. Everyone seemed to like him and he was always kind and fair-minded.

      “Colleen,” Louisa hugged the woman warmly. Her hair soft around her face, Colleen had changed little over the years. Her face was still round and glowing as it was in her youth. Louisa remembered the day she had ridden with her to the doctors’ offices in Saint Peter and they had confirmed that Colleen would never bear a child. Louisa would always remember how the woman had turned to her and trusted her with her pain and disappointment. On that day she saw Colleen as a sister and that had never changed. “Katie looks so beautiful,” Louisa whispered into Colleen’s ear and the woman turned to her and smiled with appreciation. “Mark looks great too,” Louisa said.

      Timothy walked out to the yard, with Rebecca at his side and smiled broadly. “Looks like the perfect day for a party!”

      “Mom, Dad, everyone,” Louisa spoke up loudly. “I have something I would like to show you all if you’ll just follow me.”

      Timothy looked at his daughter and nodded. “Lead on.”