South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) Read online




  “Ms. Kinslow’s engaging story-telling style makes the book hard to put down.”

  - News of Delaware County

  “Stavewood's characters burst into your life fully developed. …The scenes play across your mind like beautiful cinematography.”

  - Dolores Magro

  “Love, love, love! Can't wait for the story to be continued!”

  - Kathy Kaminski

  “Kinslow has a magnificent talent in portraying Rebecca's strong character in Stavewood. Fantastic read! If you are a believer in all things "meant to be" this novel will not disappoint!” - Diana Clark

  “A beautiful setting in which to tell the story of renewed hope & love between very likeable characters. I thoroughly enjoyed Stavewood, and look forward to the next book in the series.” - Gail Cook

  “I could not put this book down. It connected from the first page. Every time I stopped reading I couldn't wait to pick it back up.”

  - Kathie Fleischauer

  “…Would have read "Stavewood" in one sitting had time permitted. Could not wait to continue reading this novel. Well developed characters. Just the right amount of romance/mystery-murder/intrigue.”

  - Muriel Zondervan

  Books by Nanette Kinslow

  Stavewood

  South of Stavewood

  Home to Stavewood

  The Secret of Stavewood

  Sweet New England

  Ill Repute

  Pie Crust Promise

  The Matter with Margaret

  South

  of

  Stavewood

  A novel

  By

  Nanette Kinslow

  Fairy Tales are born from our need for love and without romance the world is bitter.

  With love in your heart the world is always sweet.

  ~Nanette

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  2013 Lighthouse Publishing

  Copyright © 2013 by Nanette Kinslow

  ISBN-13: 978-1490500935

  ISBN-10: 1490500936

  All Rights Reserved

  [email protected]

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews. For information contact Lighthouse Publishing.

  First Lighthouse Group publishing July 2013

  Published in the United States by Lighthouse Publishing Group

  Cover design and map illustrations by Patrick Warn

  Acknowledgements

  My appreciation goes to the following people who have helped make the Stavewood books possible:

  My husband, Patrick, whose continuing support has enabled and inspired me. Without his constant love and encouragement these books would not exist.

  To Jessica Ramsey for her love and perspectives.

  Clive Harris, for believing in me enough to publish.

  And to my old, new and inspiring friends and family who have done so much to make me feel I deserve to be doing this.

  This book is dedicated to my youngest sister, Gabrielle, because she has a perfect understanding of the meaning of true love.

  Prologue

  The Billington Bugle

  July 28, 1889

  Elgerson Mill Struck by Lightning

  Four dead. Several injured

  Lightning struck the Elgerson Mills Monday, damaging the mill wheel and killing four. Killed were Phillip Elgerson, father of the mill owner, Jacob Mason, Charles Rove and Petra Gangslav. Roland Vancouver, foreman, Convert Mendelsohn, Millard Johansson and Otto Pillsbury were injured.

  Timothy Elgerson, the mill owner, could not be reached for comment.

  Chapter One

  The magnificent Queen Anne stood proudly on the hilltop, her majestic turret piercing the dazzling blue sky. Leaded glass windows glittered brilliantly, each facet reflecting the surrounding white pine and deciduous forest, as if the glorious spectacle existed entirely to frame the regal home.

  The lawns of Stavewood were bathed in garlands of roses while carriages and coaches lined the road leading to the beautiful estate. On the soft breeze one could hear laughter and the greetings of a hundred guests as they gathered for the Elgerson wedding. Excited anticipation floated lightly on the afternoon air.

  Louisa struggled as her mother wrestled with the button hook. The child was bright and beautiful, her dark curls tumbling into her shoulders. At a bit older than three she had everything a child could possibly want, except the freedom to do whatever she pleased, and right at this moment she did not want her shoes fastened.

  “Loo,” Rebecca scolded. “You cannot attend the celebration without your shoes. Bare feet are fine for playing, but today is special and you must behave like a young lady.”

  “Mama,” the child sat as still as she could, hoping to quickly escape the torment. “If I’m very good and t’row the flowers can I ride the pony at the party, p’ease?”

  “All the rest of the day, my love.” Louisa’s mother gathered her into her arms and hugged her fiercely, causing the child to squeal and squirm. Once set free she fled down the hall toward the kitchen, the smell of sweets and fresh baked goods wafting invitingly through the big house.

  Rebecca remained in the child’s nursery, gathering up petticoats and bonnets and putting them in the armoire in an orderly fashion. She collected the girl’s favorite blanket from the bedpost and held it to her face. Inhaling the sweet scent of her firstborn daughter, her mind flashed back nearly three years. It was as if once again she was standing in a barely leafed out spring forest, her newborn in her arms, after the carriage had overturned and the family had been attacked. The scent of her infant, safe in her arms, seemed to always linger on that blanket, buried somehow in the woolen fibers. Rebecca would never forget how much she loved that child, and would love the next, now growing inside of her.

  “You should get ready.” Timothy Elgerson stood on the nursery doorway, tanned through the open collar of his white shirt. Tall and rugged, he cocked his head to one side and studied his beautiful wife.

  “I just finally got Loo’s shoes on her feet,” Rebecca smiled and carried the blanket to him. “Every time I pick up this blanket I can smell that day, that day we left your parent’s cottage.”

  The big man held the cloth to his nose. “You’re right.” He took her into his arms and held her against his chest. “It’s over now, and this is our wedding day. I only want to see smiles on your face today.” He tilted her chin to face him and slid his finger along her throat. “Today is for celebrating only. Now, go enjoy your bath. Sara is down in the kitchen and she’ll take over with Loo. Go put on that gown I keep hearing so much about and then come down and marry me. I’ve waited long enough to make an honest woman of you.”

  Rebecca pushed her fair hand against the big man’s chest playfully. “The magistrate did that already nearly four years ago when you married me the first time!”

  “I didn’t think you considered that enough of a wedding. Now you’ll get your celebration, my dear.”

  “As you promised,” she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. “I have something for you today too. I can’t give it to you just yet, but it’s here.”

  “Something for me? So quickly after this morning? I’m not sure I can meet your expectations so soon, Madam,” he smiled at her knowingly.

  “That is not exactly the surprise I had in mind, you rascal!”r />
  “Ah!” He tossed back his hair and laughed deeply. “There are other kinds of surprises?” He walked beside her down the hall toward the master suite.

  “Yes,” her mood became sober and she turned as they entered the room and she looked into his eyes.

  “I can’t give it to you now,” she continued. “It won’t be ready for about, let’s say, seven months or so.”

  “Something you’re knitting?” Timothy looked puzzled.

  “No.” Rebecca took his hand. “I’m working on it though. I hoping this one will be a boy.”

  “Another baby?” Timothy’s face broke into a satisfied grin.

  “I saw the doctor yesterday.”

  He pulled his tiny wife close to him and smothered her in playful kisses. “Another baby!” he laughed aloud. “I’ll be the happiest expectant groom in the whole county today!” he boasted.

  “Now, off with you,” she shoved him impishly. “I have a wedding gown to get into while I still can.”

  Timothy Elgerson sauntered down the stairs, a proud smile across his face.

  Chapter Two

  Rebecca studied her reflection in the long mirror as her mother-in-law finished tucking a soft rosebud into the younger woman’s hair.

  “A vision!” Isabel announced. “Rebecca, I have never seen you more beautiful! You have a glow about you today. Is there some kind of secret going on under that gorgeous gown you’ve been keeping to yourself?”

  “Remind me to never try to keep any surprises from the best mid-wife in the county!” Rebecca shook her head.

  “How long?” Isabel gasped and held the younger woman’s hand.

  “Early spring, like Louisa,” Rebecca beamed.

  “Wonderful!” Isabel spread Rebecca’s gown out behind her. “Then the celebration is even more wonderful, dear.”

  Isabel studied her stunning daughter-in-law’s reflection and smiled. She could not imagine a more perfect mate for her only living son. Bold and headstrong, Timothy was always loving, but forceful. This little slip of a girl had taken him on like a lioness, but with the gentleness of a lamb. She was a wonderful mother, firm and patient and Isabel knew a second grandchild would be adored.

  She congratulated the girl profusely and ducked out of the room, leaving the young woman a few moments alone to prepare for her big day.

  Rebecca sighed deeply and turned slightly to one side to examine her bridal train spread out behind her.

  Her dress was a soft cream and made almost entirely of lace. The sleeves, unlined, fit her slender arms snugly and the bands of lace matched the high collar that flattered her slender neck. The midriff was a series of tiny tucks which fit her perfectly and complimented her trim waistline, spilling out to a cascade of netted lace which poured out full and light around her. She wore no veil, choosing instead to tie her lengthy chestnut hair into a soft chignon, accented with miniature rosebuds and spray of baby’s breath.

  She held her hand out before her and admired her ring. Although she had worn it since their civil ceremony she still loved it as much as she had the day it was discovered in the jewelry shop, a rare estate piece of diamonds and emeralds to match her green eyes.

  She lifted her wedding gown carefully and ventured out into the hall. Rebecca thought for a moment about her cousin, Emma and her warnings against leaving England.

  Eileen, her maid, waited patiently for her and smiled proudly. “They’re nearly ready for you, Ma’am. I’ll help you downstairs.”

  “Thank you,” Rebecca sighed to calm her nerves. “Is everyone assembled?”

  “Oh, yes Ma’am. I think the entire territory is out there. Your cousin just came in from St. Peter and Mr. Carson is waiting in the kitchen. He looks very handsome in his suit, and not in that lawman’s uniform he’s always wearing.” Eileen chuckled.

  “Why, Mrs. Elgerson, you look ravishing!” Ben Carson, the local sheriff smiled broadly.

  “Thank you, Ben,” Rebecca blushed.

  “Your father would be a proud man today,” Ben Carson bowed.

  “It means so much to me that you would say that, Ben. I’m so pleased to have you giving me away today.”

  “We’ve come a long way, since you arrived, Ma’am. I’m proud to do it.”

  “Yes, we certainly have.” Rebecca’s memory flashed back to the day he had found out she was nothing more than a mail order bride, caught in a terrifying misunderstanding. She put her fair hand on top of his firm arm as the quartet began to play Wagner’s march in the ballroom.

  Rebecca Elgerson and Ben Carson stood in the hall of Stavewood as two butlers smiled in appreciation and pulled open the twin oak doors to the big ballroom. Timothy had removed the large windows to open up the already generous room, exposing it to the lawns and gardens. Dozens of white covered chairs rustled as guests rose to their feet.

  Little Louisa toddled down the center of the aisle, careful to stay on the white carpet as she had practiced, tossing petals from her tiny basket and giggling self-consciously.

  The bride looked from side to side, overwhelmed by the huge number of people filling the room and spilling out into the yard. Dressed stylishly in a dark suit, tan and handsome, her step-son Mark, now just sixteen, smiled approvingly to her and nodded his head.

  She looked up and saw her groom there and caught her breath.

  Timothy Elgerson wore a refined tuxedo, smooth, black and fitted to his tall frame. Rebecca had seen him in evening dress before, but the formal ensemble showed off his golden tan and sun kissed hair wonderfully. With his warm smile, she saw only him, only his handsome invitation, as he stood and waited for her under a canopy of climbing roses.

  She halted, just for an instant, in her walk down the aisle. She watched his face and relished the moment, his loving gaze, the scent of the roses, the approving whispers of a hundred guests. She had dreamt of this moment all of her life and she never wanted the perfection of it to end.

  Ben placed her hand onto Timothy’s arm and stepped away. She smiled up to her handsome groom with love and appreciation.

  “As promised, Rebecca,” Timothy leaned close and whispered to her.

  They exchanged their vows, as they had once before, but his time Rebecca understood the meaning in a different way. She had been by his side through an infection from a gunshot wound the day they were ambushed in the forest, and a mill accident that had taken several lives. He had held her as their daughter was born. They also had health, sharing their lives together, joyful with well-being. They had buried Timothy’s father, Phillip, and the family had witnessed the heartbreak of death and Isabel’s lost husband. Each word of the oath touched her heart and she knew her response meant more than she had once imagined.

  As she listened to Timothy respond “I do” she thought her heart would burst with joy. And as he took her and pulled her close to him, tears fell from her smiling eyes and the air filled with cheers and congratulations, their guests uniting with them in their celebration.

  Timothy swept Rebecca up into his arms, her gown spilling from his big hands, and called out to the crowd. “Thank you all for coming! You can all go home now, I’m getting another chance at a honeymoon with this beauty and I just cannot wait!”

  The guests exploded into laughter and hilarity, the men tossing hats into the air as the happy couple made their way back down the aisle.

  The reception line formed quickly, a mixed group of farmers, landowners, and timbermen, all successful and hard working men and women. Beside the bride and groom stood Timothy’s son, Mark, handsome and self-confident in his fashionable attire. Touching his arm was Isabel, Timothy’s mother, elegant in a soft lavender gown, her silvered hair done up impeccably.

  The elderly came to congratulate the couple first, certain to tire early in the day, followed by the very young. Rebecca and Timothy kissed and hugged them all, everyone appreciating the celebration for much more than the occasion itself.

  The last to offer their congratulations were the survivors of the mill a
ccident. Some supported by canes, others having healed enough to walk unassisted. These guests were the most warmly greeted by the bridal couple. A wedding had long been discussed, but the accident had stalled many pleasures near Stavewood. Today would begin a time of healing, a celebration of not only a wedding, but of life.

  Roland Vancouver leaned on his walking stick heavily, his injuries long in healing, and shook hands with the bride and groom seriously.

  “I’m so glad you chose to come, Roland,” Rebecca kissed the man’s firm cheek fondly.

  “It’s good to see you upright, my friend.” Timothy clasped the tall man on the arm.

  “I was hoping that maybe some of your luck with women would rub off on me.” Vancouver attempted a smile.

  “Only with one woman.” Timothy walked with the man to a nearby chair. He attempted to assist Roland as the man supported himself on the back of the chair.

  “I’m good, Tim. Go on, finish greeting your guests.”

  The injured man felt caught between knowing how he may never have survived without help of the big man, and wondering when his condition would be considered a burden. He watched Tim return to the side of his bride and admired the couple. He’d always wanted a family of his own, but just never found the time. Now, in his condition, he was sure it was a dream he would never realize. He turned and staggered away.

  Chapter Three