In addition to waiting out the gossip, they hoped for news from London as to the whereabouts of Charlie Shaw. In the interim, Daniel rarely left Taunton Court, with the exception of visiting Lakeview Manor where the grounds had been cleared and construction on the frame of the new house begun. There he had found Mabry toiling alongside other of Edmund’s tenants, all grateful for the additional work this project provided. Parishioners had begun the process of delivering baskets to address the tenants’ pressing needs for food. Mabry had also promised to alert Daniel should he hear word of Edmund’s return.
Getting the men to work, the families fed, and forging these trusting relationships was a start in alleviating the tenants’ suffering. Until Daniel resolved matters with Edmund, he could do no more for these men or the families who so desperately needed his assistance. It gave him added incentive to achieve his goal.
Daniel returned to Lakeview Manor with Brett, riding over that morning to answer questions from the foreman in charge of the construction. To provide the needed work as well as to expedite the project, Daniel had increased the number of men he employed. He had also added a nursery to the plans.
“It looks like it is progressing smoothly.”
Brett’s voice cut through Daniel’s thoughts, and he glanced up to see the framed structure of Lakeview Manor rising before him. The wood was mostly oak, Lakeview Manor having maintained a small forest of the trees. His absence had saved the wood during a period when so much of the county’s timber had been sold off for shipbuilding.
The framing would be fronted with bricks to provide protection against fire. The skeletal frame was sparse. He did not mind. He was quite content with his present lodgings, particularly during the evening hours. Perhaps he shouldn’t have doubled the work force.
“It is a good location.” Brett walked over, his gaze drifting over the grounds.
He followed Brett’s gaze. The fall colors had darkened into the deeper browns, umbers, and burgundies that heralded November. They carpeted more of the forest floor than the trees.
“It’s good that you are rebuilding this, Daniel. I know how much it meant to you. You shouldn’t have let Edmund take this away from you.”
Brett’s right arm was in a sling, but like Daniel’s own, his bruises were fading. Daniel thanked God for it. Considering Brett had thought his return trip was idiocy, if his friend had died, Daniel had little doubt that Brett would have found a means to haunt him for the rest of his life. He nodded toward the house. “I thought this was all he could take. Besides my childhood,” he added under his breath.
Brett did not respond, for there was nothing to say to that.
Daniel breathed in the scent of pine and the fresh earth, letting it roll over him. They were boyhood smells, and they reminded him that Edmund hadn’t stolen everything.
Together they strode down to the lake, a gentle breeze brushing over him. The background murmurs of the builders, an occasional bird cry, and the rhythmic pounding of a hammer drifted their way.
Brett turned to him, his gaze assessing. “You are determined to see this through, aren’t you? I cannot talk you into coming home?”
This is my home. He stiffened, stunned. The retort had been on the tip of his tongue, ready to explode from him like a fish leaping out of the lake. As if they had been forcibly submerged far too long, and had been desperate for release.
“I am beginning to understand.” Brett held up his hand as if he had spoken out loud. “I do not like it, but I suspected this day might come.” His smile was rueful, his eyes sad. “America cannot compete with lofty titles, ancient castles, and heroic knights. Despite your history of witches burned at the stake, drawing and quarterings, kings beheading their wives, and—”
“I understand,” he interceded before Brett launched into the age-old argument. “Didn’t Salem have witches as well?”
“They were hanged,” Brett muttered. “One pressed to death with a stone.”
“Ah, much more civil,” he nodded, trying to look solemn, but his lips twitched and he caught the amusement dancing in Brett’s eyes.
“The scales were tipped when you found Julia. Competition over.” He shrugged.
“Julia changes everything,” he agreed. “When I left, I had no intention of ever returning. I think I needed time to heal, from the fire, from my childhood. The problem was that I left a part of me here. In this land. This ground. It means something to me. It’s my home, too.” His gaze swept over the grounds, and his voice lowered. “I lost something here, and not by choice. I need to rebuild it to be whole. Do you understand?”