The Secret of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 4) Read Free Page A

rise and before her beautiful mother would emerge perfectly attired and ready to run her household. About that same time the earliest birds would sing out their morning calls and Timothy Elgerson would begin his day. Louisa was certain that, no matter what Mark’s letter had said about him slowing down, their father would still be up before dawn. Louisa was counting on it.
     
          She stepped carefully along the well-worn path in her leather heels, avoiding an exposed root in the dim light as a wide-eyed doe emerged from the woodland, tossed its head and crossed her path unhurriedly. The animals of Stavewood always seemed docile and familiar to her. Louisa realized it was because, like her as a child, they always felt safe. She watched the deer wander into the dense trees, the white tail like a teardrop disappearing into the shadows of the woodland. She caught sight of a lone man peering off into the distance.
          Louisa did not recognize him, but he was unmistakably a local man. He wore the softly faded chamois, snug trousers and heavy leather riding boots that were so popular with the locals. His shoulders were broad and his arms tanned and well-muscled. When he turned in her direction, he brushed aside sandy hair and lifted a large, weighty knapsack from the ground beside him.
          “Hello,” Louisa called out and stepped toward him.
          “Hello!” he called back to her, the deep timbre of his voice low in the quiet of the dawn. Louisa was not surprised that he seemed a bit startled.
          “Hi. Do you work for the Elgersons?” Louisa asked as he approached her. She took a step back. He was far taller than she had originally thought and his warm and friendly brown eyes met her own. His face was young and well-tanned with strongly chiseled features.
          “Oh, no,” he said. “I’m surveying, trying to catch the landscape in the early light. I’m a cartographer and I’m just taking a few measurements.” He smiled nervously and shifted the pack onto his broad back. “I’m sorry. I suppose you don’t know me or what that means.”
          Louisa felt a bit surprised finding a stranger on the property, yet she had been away a long time and no longer knew the business of the household. He smiled handsomely and she swallowed and cleared her throat.
         “Yes, I know what a cartographer is. It’s a fancy name for a mapmaker.” Louisa smiled though she felt somewhat unnerved by the way he looked into her eyes. “Do you have permission to be here on this land, making your maps?”
           “Oh, yes. Yes, I do,” he assured her. “I’m Luc Almquist.” He bowed slightly. “And you are…?”
          Louisa smiled. Charming, she thought, and rather handsome, for a Minnesota fellow. “Almquist?” She knew the name. “Isn’t your father a logger?”
          “Yeah.” He grinned boyishly and Louisa studied his face. “The log roller.”
          Louisa chuckled, feeling more at ease. “I didn’t recognize you. I guess it’s been a long time.”
          “I apologize, I don’t recognize you at all. That certainly surprises me, but I admit it’s the truth.”
          Louisa could not help but smile at the admiring look in his eye. He was very forthright and undeniably rugged, with well-muscled thighs and arms. “I am Louisa Elgerson,” she said. “Maybe if you picture me with long pigtails and as lanky as a newborn colt.”
          Luc scratched his head. “Maybe, not sure. I suppose back then I was distracted by your father and mine having a few rollicking fist fights.”
          Louisa laughed. “And do you log roll too?” she asked.
          “No, no, not since trying it once as a kid. Great disappointment to my dad and all.” He looked down at her luggage curiously. “You’ve been away?”
          “New York City,” she said, as he reached out a hand to help her with her bags. She shook her