Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02] (26 page)

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.”

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 noted 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.

“The bern is nearly finished,” Mr. Knox began. “I’m most pleased. Ye must thank yer faither for the lumber. I can pay—”

“He was glad to help,” Tavin said quickly. “It seems like most in this community are. The problems with the union were . . . well, unfortunate to say the least. However, after Father talked with the union leader yesterday, it was implied that they would be replacing Father’s lumber. I believe it’s their way of making up for the loss of your barn.”

“There’s no need. I can do for ma family.”

“It’s a good thing no one was injured or killed,” Emmalyne interjected, probably to distract her father from pressing his point. “There would be no making up for that loss.”

“Aye,” Tavin said, remembering Fenella and her deceased husband.

Emmalyne seemed to follow his train of thought. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that . . . well . . . I know what your father believes about Fenella’s husband.”

“Aye. But as the authorities have said, there is no way to prove the truth. It could have been an accident. Sten might have been careless in his calculations. It happens when a man becomes overconfident.”

“Has Dr. Williams informed you of when Fenella might move to the home in St. Paul?” Mrs. Knox wondered.

Tavin nodded. “He was at the house yesterday, Mother said. He plans to take my sister there next Tuesday. He will give her medicine that will keep her sedated for the trip. I thought I might go along with him to help.”

“That’s good of you, Tavin. I’m sure it will comfort your sister, as well as the rest of your family,” Mrs. Knox said. She offered him a bowl of green beans. “These are from your mother’s garden. She canned them in the summer. I believe they’re some of the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Tavin helped himself to the beans and passed the bowl
to Emmalyne. “I have to thank you for allowing Em—your daughter—to help out at the house. Mother is already looking better. She’s not been nearly as weary, and I believe she’s finally eating better.”

“’Tis glad I am to hear it,” Mr. Knox declared. “Yer guid mother has endured much.”

“Aye,” Tavin said, knowing he’d been the cause of some of her pain. “She has at that, but I intend to see it goes easier with her from now on.”

They chatted on through the meal, sharing news of happenings in town and around the state. Mr. Knox commented on some new building projects that were going on in the capital, possible projects the quarry could bid on. Angus brought up a team of horses he was considering buying. The one who said very little was Emmalyne. Tavin wondered at her silence. She seemed well enough and ate her fill with the rest of them, but there was a reserve that he wasn’t entirely sure he understood. Perhaps she was reflecting on their declaration of love. He certainly had done so. With a small grin he stuffed a forkful of the meat pie into his mouth lest he say something inappropriate. He wanted nothing more than to declare his love for her to the world.

Just when Tavin didn’t think he could hold another bite, Mrs. Knox went to the kitchen and brought back a bowl of something steaming. Next she retrieved whipped cream and a stack of small bowls. She ladled dessert into each and topped them with cream. “This is a recipe my mother taught me,” she declared. “It’s rhubarb sponge, a sort of pudding cake. I’ve not made it in years.”

“It smells wonderful, Mrs. Knox,” Tavin said, eager to give it a try in spite of the large meal he had eaten.

Mrs. Knox beamed a smile and handed him the first bowlful. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure he will. It’s a right guid treat,” Mr. Knox declared, taking the bowl his wife offered.

Tavin sampled the dessert as the rest of the bowls were passed around. The flavor was sweet and tart at the same time. “This is wonderful.”

“And it goes even better with coffee,” Mrs. Knox said, retrieving the pot. She refilled the men’s cups and asked Emmalyne if she wanted more tea.

“No, Mother. I’m just fine. If I need more I can see to it. You should sit and enjoy the fruit of your labors.”

They all ate the treat in relative silence. Comments about the flavor and other favorite desserts were passed back and forth, but little else. When the meal was complete, Mr. Knox got to his feet and asked for everyone’s attention.

“I have somethin’ to discuss,” he announced, looking around the table.

All gazes turned toward the older man. He gave Tavin a rather serious look. “First I have a question for ye, Tavin MacLachlan.”

Tavin nodded, but wondered uneasily if he’d somehow once more offended the man.

“I asked ye the other day whether or nae ye still loved ma daughter.”

Tavin straightened and glanced at Emmalyne, who was staring wide-eyed at her father. “And I told you . . .” He paused, realizing some things he’d spoken then were best left unsaid. He smiled. “I do.”

Mr. Knox nodded and looked to Emmalyne. “And, daughter, do ye still love this man?”

She licked her lips. “As I said that night in the barn, Father, I do love him.”

“’Tis as I always believed,” her father continued. “And because of that, I want to beg yer forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness, Father?” Emmalyne asked.

Tavin could hear the surprise in her voice. He reached over and squeezed her hand. She looked at him, clearly puzzled by her father’s declaration.

“Aye, forgiveness,” Mr. Knox continued. “I’ve been a strounge of a man.”

Tavin knew that it had taken great humility for Knox to admit his bitterness to his family. He could see tears in Mrs. Knox’s eyes as her husband continued. “I’ve let anger and hate guide me instead of the guid Lord, and for that I’m heartily sorry.” He looked from Tavin to Emmalyne. “I’ve wronged ye two more than a man has right. Ye were destined to marry, and even I knew that. But I took ye away from each other. . . .” He paused and swallowed. “And for that . . . I beg yer forgiveness.”

Emmalyne began to cry softly, and Tavin tightened his hold on her hand. She entwined her fingers with his.

“It’s a fearful man I’ve been. I’ve been a poor father and have wronged me guid wife.” His voice cracked, and he drew a deep breath and fell silent once more. No one around the table said a word.

“Tavin, are ye still of a mind to marry ma guid lass?”

Tavin looked to Emmalyne and then back to Knox. “I am.”

“And if ye were to do so, would ye take her away from her family?”

He met the older man’s blue eyes and shook his head. “Never. You would become my family, as well.”

Emmalyne’s father nodded. “And would ye allow her to see to us in our auld age?”

“I would,” he promised. “And I, too, would care for you . . . as if you were my own father and mother. I pledge to you now that you would never be alone or left to make your own way.”

Knox again nodded, this time more slowly, as if each movement were an understanding between them. “Then I give ye leave to marry.”

Emmalyne let go of Tavin’s hand and drew the napkin to her face. Her shoulders trembled as she cried. Mrs. Knox, too, was weeping softly while Angus couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

Tavin looked first at weeping Emmalyne, then back to her father. There didn’t seem to be anything more to be said, at least in front of an audience. He wanted to thank Emmalyne’s father for his blessing on their marriage, but he felt like he needed first to speak to Emmy and see if she was still of a mind to wed him.

Standing, Tavin said, “If you would allow us, Mr. Knox, I’d like to take Emmalyne for a little walk. If she’s willing.”

He agreed and Tavin reached down to take hold of Emmalyne’s hand. “Come,” he whispered.

She got to her feet, her tears still falling down her cheeks. He led her to the front door and out onto the porch. The chilled night air felt damp, but he doubted either of them would be cold. Pulling her along, Tavin led her in the darkness to a grove of trees that could offer them some seclusion from the rest of the world.

He drew her into his arms and held her tight. For a long while he said nothing. It was enough to hold her—to breathe the scent of her hair and to feel her soft skin against his neck.
He could hardly believe what had just occurred. He had given up hope for a future with Emmalyne long ago, certain that even God could not change the heart of Luthias Knox.

Tavin felt her begin to relax in his hold. The sobbing had passed. “Em,” he whispered.

She lifted her head. Tavin couldn’t see the details of her face, but he reached out to trace the line of her jaw. “I love you, Emmy. Will you marry me?”

“I will,” she said without hesitation.

He lifted her chin just a bit and pressed his lips against hers. Tavin kept a tight rein on the passion that stirred within him. He wanted so very much to spend his life with this woman, and waiting even one more day to make her his wife seemed an eternity.

He pulled away just enough to ask, “When?”

“The sooner the better, lest Father change his mind again,” she said, and they both chuckled.