Emma was deep in thought swinging on the porch swing, the next morning. When Jim pulled her car to the front of the house, then left it running as he casually strolled up the front walk. "What's that for?" she questioned
"I thought you might want to get away for a few days, before throwing yourself in to this big affair."
How had he known? That was just what she’d been thinking about, but she feared the work would stop, the minute she drove off the property.
"Nothing, to worry about here" he responded, as if he was reading her every thought, again. "The painters will be here tomorrow, and you said yourself, the rest of us know what to do."
"How do you always know what I'm thinking?"
He chuckled, and showed her a note she left herself, "Simple reasoning my dear girl. When you start leaving notes reminding yourself to say I LOVE YOU to the kids, it's time to get away."
No strong-arming was required, within minutes she was on the road, and didn't return until midweek. Her escape had been successful, she returned rested and full of a renewed energy. Quite the same way the others returned, after they’d been away for a few days. She’d so envied them, in that. Now, she too was able to drink of the fountain of renewed strength.
Kit traveled back with her, he’d finished classes nearly a month early, and since there wasn't anything holding him in Salt Lake, he chose to assist her there.
She and Mike, had finally agreed the others could join them, the week after school got out. Although, she still wasn't able to convince him, he was a required part of the picture. He hung tight to his belief, that he could just step in, and run the place, when and if, she got it running; at least that’s what he was saying this week.
His whole attitude had left her frustrated, and angry, so she’d gone shopping. She needed a couple extra bags to finish gathering her stuff up from around there, and knowing she may never need them again, she went right to a thrift store to buy them. Why waste good money, she thought. She was successful in her bid, and retrieved a few bonuses in the trip, namely; a Ball gown.
After all, she’d never been to a Ball in her life, and had no idea when she would go again. Besides the dress was just what she would’ve bought in a normal store, if she’d gone looking for one. It was made of a shimmery material, in the palest shade of pink. Small pearls adorned the low cut circular neck, and continued down the back, serving as buttons. The skirt was full and flowed smoothly to the floor. The store attendant assisted her in the fitting room, and when she stepped before the long mirror outside the dressing room, she felt like a princess. The waist, fit snug about her small frame, and even the mid arm – puffed sleeves, fell in place properly. The clerk had said, it looked like it was made for her, and she had to agree.
There were a couple of other dresses, that she felt would fit the girls. She knew Shelly had several Prom dresses, but poor Crystal had never owned anything as nice as these were, so she bought them as well, after all who would know.
She thought their eyes were going to pop out of there little heads, when she showed them the dresses. She hadn't realized until that moment that she hadn't told them about the Ball, or even informed Mike. Instantly she woke him and explained the situation no luck though, he had to work that night, meaning she would have to attend herself.
Jim and Alex were seated on the top step, when she and Kit pulled up, when she got out of the car, she saw worry in their faces. "What's wrong?" she shouted to the pair but there was no response, except the large manila envelope, they waved above their heads.
"So what is it?" she asked again, as she followed the walk towards them.
"Don't know." Alex finally answered. "But the sheriff brought it by this morning."
Quickly she grabbed it from their hands, and raced into the office for the letter opener. With trembling hands, she pulled the legal paper from its cover, and began to read. She could feel her blood pressure rising, as her eyes scanned over the paper, anger filled her every pore. She flung the papers to the desk, and marched through the house slamming out the back door.
Alex and Jim had followed her into the office and had stood very still during the entire reading. Now they followed, spewing out questions at every turn. She stopped at the steps, and turned to address them, Beth had joined them. She knew her eyes were probably filled with tears but she didn't care. "Their contesting the Will” her voice rattled as she spoke.
"Who" Jim spit out
"My older brothers," she answered, feeling her composer draining. "Who else"
"I don't believe it" Beth exclaimed
"I do." Emma responded, turning away to complete her retreat.
The tears, had already escaped her dark lashes by the time she reached the footbridge. Walking had become hard. She couldn't see anything through the mascara-streaked lashes. So there she stopped, and removed the heels she wore, allowing her feet to feel the cobblestone, path beneath them. Just before the gate, she diverted off the course path, and set off across the high grass, to the copper rock, near the ponds edge. Despite the scene she’d witnessed, from the Plantation house window, this had become her private refuge. She’ d returned to it so often over the past six weeks, that the grass no longer even stood back up.
Pulling her skirt close to her legs, she took a seat on the rock and submerged her feet, in the cool water that lapped at her rocks bottom. She restrained her tears no longer. Through her heavy sobs, she uttered to herself "How dare they." first as a whispered, then louder and louder until she was screaming it. "How dare they, they can't take it from Me." she again whispered, the strength required to fight, drained from her body.
"We won't let them." a response came from behind her.
She’d been sobbing so hard, she hadn't noticed Jim standing only a few feet away. He know rested his firm hand, on her shoulder, but she didn't look up. She didn't have to. His blue eyes were ingrained in her mind, like the lines of her own palm. She only continued to curl and uncurl her toes in the water.
When she didn't respond, he bent nearer wrapping his arm about her shoulder and whispered in her ear "You’re the chosen, it is your destiny, and they can't change it."
She only shook her head at first then finally responded, "I told you, I'm not good enough, and I’ve never been good enough, in their eyes."
She hadn't finished the statement, before he forcefully lifted her off the rock and swung her about to look him squarely in the eye, her toes dangling inches above the ground "I told you before, you’re the only one –” He stopped abruptly, and lowered her to the ground. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, but didn't look up at him. "Don't lower your pretty face to no one" he demanded, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look straight at him. She bit her lip in the process. Her body was trembling like a small leaf in a rainstorm. "Be proud of who you are." he continued in a commanding tone.
"Leave me alone." she battled back, pulling herself free from his grip. "You don't understand." she shouted, standing up straight "They've always done this to me, if I got B's, they felt I should’ve got A's, when I got A's, they would burst my bubble by telling me I didn't deserve them." She turned to star back at the pond, and wiped the remaining tears from her mascara-streaked face. "No matter how hard I tried to please them, they were never happy. How am I going to change the rules of their game now?" Again, the tears flooded her face.
"You can't change the rules, in their game." he responded “But that's just it, this isn't their game, it's yours." A truer, truth he couldn't have spoken, the words sunk deep in her heart. He was right– it was her game.
"No matter how you look at it," he went on "They just weren't born with all the right equipment. The facts are as plain and beautiful as that setting Sun." He continued when she turned to look back at him, and he wiped the tears from her face. "The story says that it must be a granddaughter," he paused for a moment "Doesn't it?"
"Your right," she uttered, pushing past him, "Well at least I think, that's the way it goes." she completed her statement as she approached the footbridge. He was right at her heels, and he stayed there, until she had the phone in her hands.
Mr. Becksted was kind enough to interrupt, a meeting and took her call right away. After he cleared his office, he returned to talk to her in private. She didn't require the same on her end, instantly she put him on the speakerphone, so all could hear. She filled him in on the events of the day, and added the information as to who’d filled the suite.
He then told her, that if tradition were to hold up in this case, she’d be the only granddaughter, to qualify. “Although, in the case of your death, Beth would be the next in line”
"Emma." his voice rang clear. "Your Great Grandmother, Emme Bloodworth Chatterton, inherited it from her Grandmother, Emmiline York Worthington, who inherited it from her Grandmother, Emmiline Wentworth York." He stopped to take a breath. "It seems the name Emma's a tradition as well." He added with a chuckle. "The process is what we would call a locked progression."
"I don't understand." She admitted, looking to the other concerned faces, in the room. Beth was doing her best to hold back her tears. Rob was at her side, summoned from the Lytle White house where he’d been painting. Alex and Kit stood side by side, next to the door and Jim stood at her side with his hand resting on her shoulder.
Silence gripped the air. It was so quiet they could hear him rustling papers around on his desk. "Mr. Becksted, are you there?"
"Just a minute Emma." he responded. Again, the paper sound was the only sound, on either end. "I'm here." He finally stated. "I can't find your Great- Great Grandmother's Will, I was sure we had one, but, I have the bible page showing the progression all written under Inheritance."
"I still don't understand." again, she replied.
"Well it means, if we have to actually go to court, things may get a little sticky.” He paused "What I'm trying to say, is that without Emme's Will in hand, and even thought the rest of the family members recognize you as the true heiress, your position may be in jeopardy."
Emma acknowledged what he’d just said, and then he continued, “I don't know what made me think we had her Will, but I'll see to it that everything here is gone through. In the mean time you do the same, Her Will could be anywhere."
If it even exists, she thought to herself, as her hopes sunk. All in all the news wasn't as good as she’d hoped, but it wasn't as bad as it could’ve been, but it had taken its toll.
"Well, I guess it's time to go find some gold." Alex popped off. She didn't feel like setting him straight, so she let him get away with it, that time. Although, she was sure Jim had noticed the look, she’d thrown in Alex's direction.
Sometime after dinner that night, which Jim was present at as usual, Emma announced the work would go on, “At least until they put a block on the money." With that Alex again, mentioned the Gold. She held back what emotions she could, when she replied
"I don't know how to tell you this." she paused and glanced about the room, every eye was upon her. Even Jim's soft Blues ones- they were the most reassuring. “But with five million in the bank, I doubt that Gold is going to be much more help." There she’d finally said it. For months, they’d been asking how she’d managed to do everything.
"My God" Beth shouted from the kitchen, making her presents known.
"How?" someone asked “When?" rang another voice.
Emma stared up at the wooden blades of the fan overhead, then looking back at them, she continued on "I've known about it from the first, my best guess is that Mrs. Haager, and Jim, were very good business partners, or at least successful." She turned to look him squarely in the face.
"That's why a box of gold never interested you." Alex interjected.
"Right" Rob answered, "Why worry about finding a box of gold, when you've got a bank of it."
"NO" Emma gripped the table. "Why waste valuable time, searching for something that doesn't exist. And with full knowledge, the land about you is worth all the gold in the world." she finished, looking straight at Jim. Whose big grin and dancing eyes were his way of telling her, he agreed. At last she’d put something on the table, that no one dared argue with.
"Fine," Kit spoke up "Then take the money and fight Uncle Sam." he was referring to her oldest brother, whose name appeared first on the papers.
She wished it could be as simple as that, but it wasn't. "NO." she responded shaking her head. "I haven't touched it yet, and now is not the time to start."
"Then how –" Rob questioned. "Have you paid us, all of these months?"
"Yeah, and what about the Village" Alex added.
She rubbed her forehead. Someone would’ve thought she was divulging secret papers, belonging to the government. Jim stepped a bit closer "Through a fund setup by Mrs. Haager, I told you she’d already made arrangements, to have several things completed, after her death. The Village is just one of them. Believe it or not, she has already paid to have another home, built up here."
Kit threw his hands up in the air, and shook his head "Why do you let them do these things to you, why can't you just fight, you always just give up"
His words had drawn blood, hers. In other words, he was calling her a coward. Jim quickly, sprang forth and put his hand on her back. "Your mother's tired, Kit." it was obvious to her, he’d felt the pain. "Give her a chance to sleep on it, and I promise she'll be up to par tomorrow."
She was relieved to have someone to stand up for her, but she rather wished, he hadn't promised she’d have all the answers, by morning. The group took him at his word, and started to disband, heading for bed. She walked out to the truck with him, mostly in silence. At the end of the walk, she finally said, "I don't know Jim, where am I going to find the answers."
After stepping into the darkness, he suddenly slid his strong arm around her waist, and pulled her close to him. She didn't fuss. Instead, she simply laid her face on his chest, and drank in the comfort he was offering. It wasn't enough, and it never lasted long, but she enjoyed all he was willing to give. Softly he stroked her long black hair and whispered, "I shouldn't be doing this."
She gently shook her head in disagreement. "Hugs don't count." When he laughed her head rhythmically bobbed up and down.
"You feel rather secure in your standing, don't you?"
"Do you mean I'm sure of myself?" she replied, looking up at him. "With you, yes."
"Oh," he whispered, "I see you're not scared of me."
She grinned and shook her head.
"You're not afraid I might suddenly rip off your clothes, and do unspeakable things to your person?"
He’d never spoken that way before. Maybe she should be a little fearful. She thought about it, but then answered "NO."
"Well at least you thought about it, didn't you?" he asked pushing her out far enough to look her in the eyes. She only nodded. “I thought so," he said pulling her back close to himself “I guess I'll have to settle for this."
She could’ve easily fallen asleep right there, the world seemed to be in its rightful place, for those few moments, and then he shuffled her back into the light and went on home.
Quietly, she pulled the high back chair in front of the fireplace, and started a fire. Then took a seat, and started to contemplate what he’d asked. A man's language wasn't always as simple as it sounded, and she knew exactly what he’d meant. She couldn't do it though, and he knew it even before he’d asked. She’d been correct about hugs not counting, people hug each other all the time, and it never means a thing. In some circles, it's even proper to kiss, and not have it mean anything. Theirs hadn’t been that innocent, and she knew she had to keep a close eye out, so it didn't happen again.
She diverted her thoughts, to the problem at hand. She’d learned a lot, from their talk up at the pond. She now recognized that she indeed, had the upper hand in this game. She was living on the property, and had been, long enough to secure her rights in the county. In addition, she’d recently made some important contacts, which may serve her best interest now.
As for finding the Will, there on the property, it was a long chance. They’d already gone through every place that could’ve held the silly thing. Sleep kept creeping into her eyes. After battling it off for the third time, she decided it was time to turn in. Laying her notebook to the side, she was surprised to find the fire had grown cold, she hadn't noticed it’d even go out.
Ascending the stairs, she noticed the wood paneling was missing, and in its place cheery wallpaper hung. She recalled discussing it last week with the contractor but was sure they’d told her they couldn't get there until next week. It was impressive though, and decided to thank whomever it was that had picked the paper out. Reaching the landing, before she turned, to climb the last six steps to the second floor, she suddenly questioned if the door was lock, it’d been left open night after night, it seemed. Therefore, she descended the steps to check, since not knowing would keep her awake.
For some reason, she couldn't get the lock to turn. She wondered if someone had had it replaced, it just didn't look the same, and then she realized the door wasn't the same either. A solid wood door stood before her. Even through the fatigue she was feeling, it was apparent to her, before she turned around, that she wasn't in the right time, again.
Quickly she looked towards the landing, and then away, the picture was there. She pulled her hands in towards herself. She wasn't touching anything. Lowering her head, she closed her eyes and counted One – Two – Three – then opened them.
Nothing had changed. She was still seeing things in the past– and smelling it. A strong sent of roses, penetrated her nostrils, coming from the sitting room. Before she could look, a man’s voice rang out. "Emma"
The situation was all too similar. She’d been there before. A dainty, young girl appeared at the top of the staircase and called. "Coming Grandfather"
Emma expected the whole thing to disappear then, but it didn't. The girl descending the steps, and passed only inches from her. On into the sitting room she went, and came to a stop, in front of a large high backed chair. The conversation that ensued, reminded Emma of many she herself had conducted. The young girl was instructed on good and bad influences, they reinforced that they were older, and had more knowledge of the world at large. It seemed they were having a disagreement over who would be taking her to the Spring Cotillion.
The word was familiar to her. She recalled hearing her Grandmother, speaking about it every chance she got. Obviously, it must’ve been a point in time that had impressed upon her many lessons. The first being that Grandfather knew better than she, who was going to take her.
If memory served her right, her Grandmother had mentioned that it was the biggest event of a young girl’s life. It was her coming out party, where all young debutantes, were introduced to the adult world. It signified, the age of dating or in this case, meeting beaus. The event came with plenty of pompadour, too. The girl was responsible for sewing her own dress, and matching bow for the hair. If the parents agreed, she’d be able to wear her hair high on her head, but if they were stiff necked, it was only pulled up on the back of her neck. In addition, there was the white gloves and matching shoes.
She’d been so caught up in remembering the event, as her grandmother had described it, that she missed most of the conversation, that continued in the sitting room. It wasn't until she heard the name West, that she was drawn back, but by then the girl was no longer in the room, a rather sweet looking elderly woman was speaking,
"Someday, she'll thank you John." her voice was as soft and sweet as she appeared to be.
"Maybe Emme, she's not you, though." He said as he rose, from the chair. His dark hair and dark clothing, took Emma by surprise. It was the man from the picture, and the pond, she grew so fearful, that she actually started to shake. Slowly moving backwards, out of the room, as if she thought they might see her.
Suddenly a loud commotion arose from the living room. Turning, she discovered the room filled to over full, with people, big people, little tiny girls, babes in mother’s arms, all dancing and singing. At the fireplace, on the mantel, Old Johnny rested his arm, two women on each side of him. One was her own Great-Great Grandmother, she knew only because of the scene she’d just watched, in the sitting room.
It puzzled her, how had they gotten there so fast, and, where had all the people come from. Nothing made sense, so why worry about it, she thought. What she need to worry about, was how she was going to get back to her own time. That is, if she really wasn't there all along, it bothered her that no one seemed to be able to see her. Actually, it would’ve been a bigger problem, if they could’ve seen her. Jeans and t-shirts were probably not looked upon as being suitable attire, for the event that was taking place.
Music filled the air, and everyone was dancing and carrying on. Then suddenly the music stopped and everyone fell back, to clear a path to the staircase. Emma had taken up a perch near the door, so she was one of the first people to see her Grandmother, descend the steps. No longer did she look to be the youthful girl, with braids twisted about her head. Her dress, although not one; a girl today would were to a ball, but was glorious just the same. It was made of a velvet fabric, and had little embroidered flowers about the neck and cuffs, it was full from the waist down, and tapered to fit snug at her waist, although it left a bit of imagination, as to where the bust line would’ve been. Her Grandmother always was well endowed, in that fact, so she wondered where they had gone.
Her grandfather met her at the bottom of the steps, and made the presentation of her to everyone, an older boy, then stepped forward and was introduced, as Mr. West. It was her Grandfather, though she found him so handsome, it was hard for her to believe. The music started again, and she took his hand, and then started to dance.
The warmth of the room began to get to her, as she watched them dance, beneath an extremely large glass globe that hung from the middle of the room. On it was a hand painted picture of the falls, up at the lake. It was impressive. She figured, if she ever made it back to her own time, she'd search the stores for something similar. However, for right that minute she had to step outside, for some cool air. In addition, she hoped that perhaps stepping through the door would, break the spell.
She even closed her eyes as she did so, but when she opened them, it was still the spring of 1914. As she walked the distance of the front walk, she listened to the music carefully, she’d heard it before but she wasn't sure where. Suddenly she turned to look back at the house and discovered the same scene she’d seen, three times. That's why the music had sounded familiar.
Suddenly, a shrill cry broke the brisk air that pressed against her flushed cheeks. Whirling about, she caught a faint glimpse of a couple struggling just outside the light. This was the moment she’d hoped for, she could now help that girl. That has to be the reason I'm here, it was obvious to her that the girl was being raped.
Emma could hear her own heart beating in her ears. She couldn't just stand there doing nothing. She started to run towards the couple, the closer she got, the more she could hear the girl repeatedly crying no.
Forty feet more, thirty feet more, she passed beyond the light – and leaped from the chair in front of the fireplace. Her abrupt movement sent her notebook flying into the fire itself. Immediately, she grabbed for it, and then dropped back into the chair, had it really just been a dream? It couldn't have been, she could feel the cobblestone beneath her feet, and the heat in her cheeks. It had to be real. Quickly she wrote down every detail, right from the dress she wore, to the glass globe in the living room, she feared she’d forget it, before she got it all written down.
She lay in the bed, until just after sunrise, when she could hear Beth moving about in the kitchen. Then she dressed, and joined her in the kitchen, when she offered to help with breakfast, Beth responded with "It looks like you should go back to bed, to me."
After breakfast, when it appeared, they all might just slip back into bed, she decided to reiterate her words of the night before. "I spent most of the night, reviewing this situation."
"Who didn't" Kit snapped back.
"Well" she said, lowering her head to look at her shoes, "Perhaps I don't need to say this but I'm going to anyway." Suddenly, as if her head had been lifted, by some unseen force, she looked up and realized Jim had just entered the room. "I want you all to remember that these people, are your Uncle's and Aunt's" she looked to Kit. "Your brother's and sister-in-law's." she responded looking to Beth “And your parent's” Turning to find Alex.
"And my grandparents, " Alex's oldest son Mark added.
"Right," she looked back to Jim “And unbelievably, they love each one of us." she rushed her words, knowing full well, what the response was going to be.
"Like shit." Rob proclaimed.
"Really Em, open your eyes." Alex added.
"Listen—" she tried to interrupt.
"No mom, you listen." Kit stated, standing up, "You’re always covering for them, you have to stop."
"Kit, please." she started to plead with him, but noticing Jim approaching the front of the room, decided to change her strategy, "Listen, if we walk off now, they win by default. That's not the way I'm leaving this place." It didn't feel right telling them that, after all, she’d always played the peacemaker. She somehow, she’d earned the position of playing the go between. "But I can't have you let this hurt continue to grow. I understand, that if it were not for them, questioning this now, it maybe some other family member, from a part of the family we don't know."
"Oh, so it's better to be hurt by someone that loves you, then a complete stranger, right." Kit shot back.
"Kit, sit down and listen to your Mother." Jim stood up saying.
"Where do you get off?" Kit turned on him
"Listen." Beth spoke up "What your Mom is saying makes since, she’s just pointing out the facts. If this hadn't taken place now, we could’ve made a success of this place, only to have it take away."
"No one is going to take this place away from any of you." Jim again spoke up. "They just don't fit the bill, don't you understand. The court will not go against tradition, it can't, or else it may risk someone coming along and changing the tradition, that give them strength." He was beginning to sound like a lawyer or something. He even looked the part, resting his back against the glass hutch, with his pipe in the corner of his mouth.
"Now we just have to get back to work. Too many things have been put in place to turn back now.” Emma added. She was expecting a better response then she received, but at least they went back to work and not to bed. "By the way, keep your eyes open for that Will."
She stepped into the kitchen, with Beth, just so Kit and Jim would be alone for a minute. Since she didn't hear any fighting, or raised voices, she figured it was all right to go back in. The two of them were sitting at the first table drinking coffee. When he saw her enter the room, he stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She didn't know what he’d said, but it must have touched Kit's, he defiantly didn't leave that room with the same impression of his Mother that he’d entered with.
The next task was to call Mike, and inform him of the problem, she knew she was going to have to play peacemaker, again. Unfortunately, she wasn't going to have Jim around to plead her case for her.
He didn't get as out raged as she’d expected, matter of a fact he even sounded a bit like he’d expected it. "Besides, just who do they expect to run it any better then you? After all, I'm the only one with a degree in motel management. They’ll have to come to me to run the place." He was determined, to hold tight to that status “And you’re the only one with any housekeeping experience." he added as if it were a passing thought.
To think, that was all he thought of her, made her blood boil, she didn't hear much of the rest of the conversation. She decided that it would be better off for the phone, if she didn't call him so much. After all that was the second cord, she’d replaced, and it appeared to need it again. She just had a bad habit of stretching it, whenever she got mad, and lately, that was only when she called him.
Swirling around in her chair, she slapped the desk so hard that she tipped the box on the corner over. Mrs. Haager's files flu all over the floor, tears welled up in her eyes, and she hung her head low again, only to remember Jim's words, once again ring in her head.
He was right she was someone to be proud of; after all, it wasn't Mike, or her older brothers that had gotten the place to where it was today.
"I'm better than making beds and cleaning toilets." She started to talk right aloud. “I wonder who it was that set the phone system up, and connected the eight points of sale to the computer, it wasn't them." she got up and started to re-file the papers on the floor. "And tell me, does one of them, even know the price that wheat is going for this week, How about what a good horse go’s for. Can they milk a cow, or know how much milk