maple grove

8/7/2019 Maple Grove

1/73

A Restless Heart

By Matt Kirkby

Word Count: 29 747

Chapter One

The thaw is coming. Patches of blue water could be seen through the grey ice still

covering most of the St Lawrence River. Trees covered the distant shoreline, barren of

leaves.

Itll be spring soon.Yes, I suppose that it will be.

The birdsll be back and the chicks.

Mable stepped over towards the side of the Kings Highway as a carriage rolled past.

Its driver tipped his hat to her and she nodded back politely. The two chestnut-brown horsespulling the carriage were fine specimens of stock. Someone is off on an adventure, she

thought. Carriages travelled the highway in all weather after all. She could not see anyoneinside the carriage though--its curtains were drawn over the windows.

Robin Jackson was still staring at the river and babbling about the much-anticipated

return of warm weather. Now he turned his head to look at her. And folksll be getting

hitched, he announced.Mable flinched.

Lots of peoplell be getting hitched. Thats what my da told me. He turned and

waddled towards her, his usual gait further twisted by the bulk of his winter coat and longscarf. Lots and lots. The Reverend will hafta run his feet off to keep up.

I doubt there will be all that many marriages this year, Mable replied with a bit ofsadness in her tone. There are not many boys of eligible age in the village right now.Im of age, he said in a serious tone. I could marry someone.

Yes, I know that you could. Mable patted his arm. Youd make some girl a very

nice husband. Not that he ever would marry. Not with his simple nature, she thought.

Two black squirrels dashed past them, and then vanished up one of the barren maple

trees.

Mable turned back towards the road. Its not like the stories. Theres no knight on a

shining white stallion galloping here to save me, she thought with regret. Just one old cow

and a flock of chickens waiting for me in the barn.

After saying good-bye to Robin, Mable turned down the driveway towards the

farmhouse when she heard the creak of a wagon behind her. She turned her head.A man riding a horse-drawn cart was approaching at a steady clip.

Mable slowed her pace. Hes no one that I know, she thought. Maple Grove was a

small village. Everyone knew everyone and there were few strangers about.Morning. He nodded to her.

Good morning to you. Mable stared at him as he rode past. He looked to be tall

and handsome, with a strong chin and chestnut hair peaking out from under his bowler.

Mable watched him ride towards the village.


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* * *

Another day has come. Thank the Lord. Marjorie was sitting by the iron-bellied

stove, in her favourite chair. The knitting needles in her hand clicked together softly as she

slowly worked at crocheting a new blanket.Lena Cheney glanced across the kitchen. Aside from the white hair, she looked just

like a younger version of her mother with a prominent nose. Her patent leather boots

clicked softly on the worn floor boards as she stepped towards the stove and pushed anotherlog through the grate. I suppose that you feel the need to go into town?

Mable looked up from her tea-cup and into Lenas eyes as the other woman sat down

at the pine table. Yes, Mother. My chores are done for the day. She paused a moment.

We do have some fresh eggs for me to take and sell at Eddingtons shop.Lena sniffed as she spread some of last summers strawberry jam on a slab of bread.

I have ten pounds of butter for you take as well. Mind you dont dawdle on the way.

Of course I wont.

And find out the status of our store account. I do not wish to fall too far behind inour payments. She took a bite of her day-old bread. We have our pride after all.

Yes, we have our pride, Marjorie agreed from her chair.And that is all that we have, Mable thought.

Its been a most bitter winter. Marjorie sighed and set her knitting aside. All this

cold makes my joints ache. Sometimes I wonder if the spring will ever arrive.

The ice is breaking up on the River, Mable informed them. I was watching itearlier this morning.

Well past time for it.

Mother, its been cold, and the year is still early. Lena turned her attention backtowards her daughter. You went walking this morning?

Only after my chores were done! Mable protested.

Lena sniffed. I dont hold with these forest walks of yours.Theres no danger.

Theres danger aplenty in the woods. Wolves. Bears. Other things. You could

slip on ice and fall into a ravine and not be found til summer.Mable stared glumly at the table top.

The winter reminds me too much of what it was like when my parents and I came

across the ocean. Marjorie paused. I would tell you about it, but my throat is dry.

Mable stood up. More tea? she asked politely.Yes, dear, that would be lovely.

Mable hurriedly reached for the teapot.

Marjorie sipped it. Mmm. Now that just hits the spot nicely.Mable refilled her own cup.

Frank had courted me in England and been granted permission to wed. I was a

shopkeepers daughter. Frank was the fourth son of a tailor. Not many prospects for him inSheffield so what real choice did we have? We left for new shores. Theres a better life to

be had in the Dominion of Canada, or so wed been told.

Life is about the same anywhere I dare think.


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Frank worked hard to save up enough coin to pay for our tickets. My parents chose

to come with us. I dont think Ma could bear to be parted from me. She sipped at her tea.

Im not sure I could have stood to have been parted from her for so long either.Lena slathered butter onto a bun and took a large bite.

We sailed across the ocean on a cramped ship. A miserable voyage it was. She

shuddered. Nine days, we were on that ship, though it felt more like weeks and weeks.Couldnt get a decent nights sleep. The boat rocked something fierce. We could barely

keep anything down when we did eat anything. We prayed that the voyage would end

quickly. Sometimes we prayed that the ship would simply sink and end our misery andsuffering.

And then we sailed into the harbour of Montreal and we stepped down the ramp

onto the ground. And into ankle-deep snow, she added. The third week of March it was

and there was snow on the ground.Canada is known for the ferocity of its winters.

Very true. Lena nodded. At the time I hated it, but over the years I grew used to

it. I rather enjoy the winters though. It makes things so peaceful.

Ive never quite gotten used to it. Marjorie shook her head. I likely never will.


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Chapter Two

The highway was still frozen, and the ruts in the dirt made for treacherous footing.Mable had walked the road countless times. At least once a week, more often twice

or even thrice. No matter what the weather. She enjoyed the walking into town. Peaceful

and quiet, it gave her time to think and time to appreciate the countryside. The winter hadgiven the land an almost magical appearance, after the first snowfall, but now everything

looked grey and bedraggled. I will be happy when the leaves are back on the trees.

Mable wore her thick brown serge coat and a matching woollen scarf was woundrepeatedly about her neck so that she did not notice the brisk wind which was blowing out of

the north. The basket in her hands was heavy, but she hardly noticed it now that she was

free of the farmhouse.

The maple and pine trees of the forest quickly gave way to pasturage, and even that

soon gave way to the village of Maple Grove.

We do not really live that far out of town, Mable thought as she walked through thevillage streets. A handful of people were out, and most of them acknowledged her passing

with a nod and often a murmured good morning. Everyone knew each other in MapleGrove. There were fewer than three hundred souls living in the village proper.

Eddingtons Shoppe was empty of customers, but the owner was standing behind his

counter and he looked up as she walked in.

Good morning, Miss Cheney. Kenneth Eddington wore a fine white shirt with tieand vest. He had his thinning grey hair slicked back, vainly attempting to cover his growing

baldness.

Good morning, Mister Eddington. She offered him a weak smile, which falteredas he peered across the counter at her. I have some eggs and fresh-churned butter to offer

you.

Your Lena has a cool hand. He nodded as he gave that compliment, and then offcleared a space on his countertop for her to set the basket on. Have you your usual list?

Yes. She dug out the paper and handed it to him. Mostly the basics. We haveno need for fanciful thrills,Lena had declared while carefully writing the list out in her neathand. Do the butter and eggs cover everything?

Not quite. Ill just add the extra to your account.

Mable suppressed a sigh. My mother wishes to know the status of our account,

she told him.He blinked at her.

She does not wish for us to fall too far behind in what we owe.

You may inform your dear mother that your account is well within the acceptablerange. Even with this latest purchase, she should be caught up by midsummer.

Thank you.

Ill have Oliver bring the delivery to your house tomorrow morning, if that isacceptable? His tone sounded as if she had no choice.

Yes, she replied softly, well be home when he arrives. There was no other

place for them to be after all. As she turned to leave, she took note of the newspaper. The


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front page of the Kingston Whig Standardwas dominated by a picture of Prime Minister

Laurier dedicating a new transcontinental railroad.

* * *

Mable glanced up at the sun. I have time enough to stop in. She turned offEdward Street and onto James. The houses were close set here, with one in particular that

she hastened towards.

She reached for the door latch and pushed.The inside of the lending library was filled with shelves of books and newspapers.

Sunlight was pouring through the windows and cast a welcoming glow over the room.

Floral wallpaper covered the walls where the shelves did not. Reading lamps waited on two

small tables, with four wing chairs each standing alone.A real library, Mable said softly. Her boots clicked softly on the floorboards.

Its like being in a big city. Or so she imagined Toronto or Ottawa to be like.

Its too small by far. A tall Native woman stepped through the doorway, her

almond-shaped eyes twinkling. Mable, I thought I heard your voice. Her dark hair hungwell past her waist, allowed to fall loosely over her shoulders.

I brought that book back, Autumn-Rose.The Mohawk woman just smiled and waved aside the offered book. I told you

there was no need to rush through it, she said. Youre supposed to enjoy the books.

Oh I did. Mable eyed the other womans dress. Autumn-Rose was very much

alive and vibrant, in a way that Mable could only dream of being. There was a luminousquality to her features, a bloom upon her reddish skin.

Do you like it?

Its beautiful. Mable absently patted the ruffles of her own drab brown skirt. Itsso bright.

Too bright? Autumn-Rose gave a twirl, allowing the jade green material to swirl

around her legs. Too much for Maple Grove?You look like a--

A lady?

Oh yes.Ive told you before, Mable, that brown does not suit you. You should wear

something brighter.

Brown is dignified.

Brown is boring. Autumn-Rose laughed softly and gave another twirl. Do youhave time for tea? she asked.

My mother is expecting me back at the house.

To sit there with them and knit and cook? Oh come, spend a few minutes with me.The pot is already on the stove.

Well Mable sighed--the inner battle was lost. Just a few minutes then.

The small kitchen was cozy. A pot-bellied stove provided heat and a small pot

resting on the top gave off the sweet scent of potpourri.


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Autumn-Rose had waved Mable to one of the plain chairs at the small round table.

There are libraries in Toronto that have more books in one set of shelves than all the ones

that I have gathered in there.Im glad that you were able to convince Mister Blackwell into allowing you to open

it. I do not know how you ever managed it.

Hes just an old softy. I arranged it with not much difficulty. Dismissing herefforts, Autumn-Rose reached for a nearby counter. I have another book I saved just for

you. Its a wonderfully romantic tale.

Coralled. Mable took the book and studied its cover. A pale-faced woman waslaying in the arms of a ruggedly handsome cowboy. I dont knowI mean, I cant pay you

for this one yet. I should have some money later in the spring, when I can sell some

preserves and jams, but right now.

This is a library, Mable: you are supposedto borrow the books. Autumn-Rosestood up and hurried to the round-bellied stove where the teakettle was whistling. That is

the way they operate. You can settle up accounts later.If only it were that simple. Its better to do without now, rather than fall into a debt

you cannot escape from.That sounds like something your mother would say.

That doesnt make it any less true.Autumn-Rose nodded. A few pence for books will not beggar you.

I feel so simple sometimes. You have seen so much of the world. Far more than I

ever have. Or likely will, she thought to herself.

There is something to be said for simple village life. Why else would I be here nowinstead of still being off traveling the world?

Mable reached for her tea. I dont know.

You should order some material for a new dress for the summer. Something in anice apple red would be striking.

It would be shocking! Brown is suitable for pretty much any occasion.

And it doesnt show the gravy?That is what my mother says.

Your mother is far too protective of you at times.

Im all that she has. Mable sighed. After my father fell ill.

* * *

Now that was a fine meal.Yes, it was. Marjorie patted her stomach. A very hearty stew and a good way to

end the Sabbath.

Lena carried the plates to the wash basin. Ill have to bake bread tomorrow. Thatwas the last of it.

Tomorrow will do. Marjorie reached for her knitting needles and the ball of yarn.

A stew is good for Sunday dinner, but nothing is better than a proper roast with thetrimmings.

Maybe we can buy one in a few weeks after Andrew has come over.

Perhaps. That would be nice for a change.


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We do have our store account to pay off as well. I would rather not have that

hanging over our heads all summer.

Of course not. Still, it has been so long since we had a proper roast.In due time, Mother.

I am an old woman, Lena, and my days on the Lords green earth are numbered and

few. Lena sighed as her mother continued to ramble.

I would not begrudge one final taste of a good roast.

Yes, Mother.Marjorie smiled across the worn pine table at Mable. There was this one time that

we went to my sister, Idas, house for a roast beef supper--

Not that story, Mother! Lena turned away from the sink with a loud sigh. You

know how much I hate that story.Hush, child. We had gone to my dear sisters--God rest her soul--for the Sunday

dinner. We had been to church first of course. We never missed a Sunday service back

then. The entire village would be in attendance and the sermons were spirited and fiery.

Not like Reverend McWhirter now. There was no fire in his sermon this morningI couldhave slept right through it.

Mable giggled. I cant imagine you sleeping through a service, she said.Oh, its not likely that I would. Marjorie reached for her teacup with a trembling

hand. With an effort, she steadied herself so that she would not spill any of the tea.

Getting back to the dinner, we had gone to Idas straight from church. There was your

mother, dressed in her Sunday best. Hair nicely braided, fine shoes with polished buckleson her feet, woollen stockings.

Oh, stop this right now!

Marjorie leaned back in her chair. She and Irene went off to play. Your uncle,Charles, had taken Frank off to the barn to discuss the cows. I was taking tea with Ida and

the evening roast was cooking. The house smelled wonderful. Simply wonderful. Ida had

made bread and although we had the same recipe, hers always seemed tastier. Must havehad some trick she never shared. We discussed recipes often enough, and other matters

while the afternoon passed.

And then eventually our Lena came back to the door, along with Irene.They had fallen into Millstone Creek.

Lena coughed. Irene fell in, she said primly, and I was dragged in when I tried to

help pull her back out.

They were quite a sight. Marjorie was shaking her head, her eyes hazed by distantmemories. Soaked clear through to the skin. Covered in mud as well, I might add. Your

best Sunday dress was ruined! Simply ruined.

I did penance for months.The added chores were good for you.

Mable hid her face in her teacup so that her mother would not see her grinning.

You both had to have a bath. Then and there. Ida made your uncle go and pump upenough water for you two.

I had to wear one of Irenes dresses home.

Marjorie nodded. A grand disaster it was. Twas months and months before I could

show my face there again.


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Nonsense. Ida was back here visiting the very next week.

She wanted that dress back, didnt she? And she knew full well that my Yorkshire

pudding was by far superior to the slop she tried to pass off as authentic. Drown hers ingravy to hide the tastethat is no way to serve it.

Mable, go and trim the oil lamp for your grandmother. She cant see to knit in this

poor light.I can see fine. Im not blind.

Oil is not too dear. We can afford a little more light.

Theres plenty of oil left in here, Mable said as she replaced the lamp shade.Lena sat down in her chair with her tatting on her lap. We should make use of the

night then.

More lace? Marjorie peered over the top of her knitting. I dont have the

patience for such fine work anymore. Or the steadiness of my fingers.Seated in her own chair, Mable carefully opened her latest book.

Something new to read? Lena asked.

Yes, just something I borrowed from the library.

Something tasteful and ladylike, I trust.It was recommended to me.

I dont know that I approve of this library. What was Edward Blackwell thinking inallowing it to be opened?

No doubt he believes in the importance of an education. Marjorie looked at her

daughter. What use is there is being learned in reading when one has nothing to read?

We have the Good Book.There is more to life, at times, than the Good Book. Ive read it numerous times,

Mable protested. What harm is there in reading about far off places?

I trust that this library is only stocking respectable titles upon its shelves. Lenacontinued. No scandalous biographies, or pamphlets with lustful images in them.

Of course not!

And this girl who works there? What of her? She seems a mystery to the village.Autumn-Rose is a hard worker. Shes--

Of course she is, dear. Lena had returned to her tatting and was no longer paying

her daughter overmuch attention.Marjorie had resumed knitting. As long as you do your chores properly, I see no

reason not to allow you to read the correct types of books. Its a cheap enough pastime.

Mable turned the page, taking her usual care to obscure the cover of her guilty

pleasure.


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Chapter Three

Your cousin will be stopping by later this afternoon.Mable grimaced. Maybe I can avoid being here when Andrew arrives. And you

need me to help you tidy?

The house is clean enough. Should be seeing as Ive spent half the day sweepingand dusting. No, I want you to go and see if you can find some early flowers to brighten the

table.

Yes, Mother.

There was a knock at the door.

Come in! Lena called out as she hurried from the small parlour. She hastilysmoothed her ankle-length skirts.

Marjorie was sitting at the table, her silver hair done into a tight bun and a woollen

shawl draped over her shoulders.

Andrew nodded to them as he stepped through the door. He was wearing a stripedsackcoat and trousers, with matching waistcoat, and his moustache was fashionably curled.

Lena. Marjorie. He paused. Mable. He removed his Homburg with his right hand;there was a small valise gripped in his left.

Good afternoon, Andrew. Lena gave him a nod. Please be seated. She gestured

to the table, briefly wishing that the pine boards were not as time-worn as they were.

Thank you. He wiped his boots off on the mat, then stepped into the kitchen.Mable, please pour the tea.

Yes, Mother. She lifted the teapot from the table and carefully filled four cups,

starting with the one meant for Andrew.I have brought the usual paperwork for you to sign, he announced. He set the

valise onto the table and opened it. I just need the usual signatures from you.

I dont know we bother with these forms. Marjorie shook her head as he lifted thepapers from inside his valise. Its just worthless scrubland up north.

Andrew nodded either his agreement or understanding.

I dont see how we earn anything from owning it.Its just a pittance, but every penny counts, does it not? It keeps a roof over your

heads and helps pt food on your table. Andrew reached for a still-warm bun.

I still dont see how.

You are paid a series of small fees charged to the people using the land. Its allrather complicated, he paused, so I wont bore you with all of the mundane details.

I dont understand it all, but it does provide us with a small income, Lena agreed.

Not much.Mable, dont be rude.

Andrew was smirking as he looked over at her. Just a pittance, he said, but it is

better than having nothing.Mable said nothing.

It is a great pity that your father was unable to better choose investments which

would have given a higher rate of return. He could have left so much more for you.

We make do, Andrew. Another bun?


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Yes, thank you.

* * *

Mable leaned against Mollys flanks.

The jersey lifted her head and emitted a plaintive moo which echoed through thestable.

I know, Molly. There was nothing romantic in being on a farm, milking the cow.

I have no muscular cowboy waiting to ride to my rescue, she mused. Theres noruggedly handsome man waiting to hold me pale-faced in his arms. Such things only

happened in the books she borrowed from Autumn-Rose.

Mable carried the milk bucket back to the farmhouse. The morning air was still

crisp, a definite touch of frost in the air. The stable had been warm, even if it smelledstrongly of cow.

The stove was hot, and the kettle on top of it was already boiling.

Lena gave the pot of thick oatmeal a stir with a wooden spoon. Have you fed the

chickens?Not yet.

Be quick about it. They await their breakfast, same as you.Mable set the bucket of milk near the table and scooped up a small bowl of grain

from the barrel standing against the wall.

How full is the barrel?

Theres still about a quarter of feed in here.Enough to last then. Lena returned to the counter and gave the rising bread dough

a good thump. By the time that it runs out, there will be plenty of foraging for them.

Mable adjusted her shawl around her shoulders.Be quick with the chickens. I need you to fetch me more water.

Yes, Mother. Mable stepped back outside.

All five of the chickens were happy to see her, clucking loudly as she emptied outthe bowl of grain for them. What have you laid for us today? she asked as she carefully

poked through the nests and found two eggs.

Only two eggs this morning? Lena sounded displeased.

We only have five chickens. What, do you think that Mable is hiding eggs on

you? Marjorie chuckled. Soon be time to leave the eggs a bit and hatch new chickens.Mable sipped at her tea, trying to warm the early morning chill from her bones.

Thats what Robin told me the other day.

Did you go walking with him? Marjories eyes narrowed over her knitting. Ithought that you didnt care for his company.

I never said that.

Lena sat down and picked up her needlework. Mable, when you take this newbatch of butter into town, I have an order for you to deliver alongside it.

More fabric?

If we order it now, we can have new dresses made ready for summer.

Can we afford it?


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I dare say yes we can. Marjorie nodded. We put the winter months to good use

and have a surplus of lacework and other crocheting for Eddington to sell in trade.

Lena shook her head as she lifted her eyes from the needlework in her lap. I do nothold with selling these, she protested. Giving as gifts to family and friends is one matter,

but to enter into the business of selling Her voice trailed off.

Mable cleared her throat. Hes often said that you produce fine quality. Yourmother has a deft hand with a needle. Thats what he told me.

Pshaw.

Would you rather we remain owing on our account? Marjorie asked pointedly.Or would you prefer to greet the Midsummers Day in an old dress?

I see no reason to waste good coin on new material when our current dresses remain

perfectly wearable.

Id like to have a new dress and some nice shoes with little bows on them.Shoes? Lena snorted at her daughters words. Shoes would not last a month in

the mud and dust and general muck. No, you will stick with stout boots with a good thick

heel. They, at least, last.

Selling some of our own handicrafts would not be considered amiss for women.Marjorie was obviously considering matters. It would provide us with some additional

income to aid in the running of the household.Business is a mans task.

Yet we have no men.

Mable did not look up from her tatting. A son would have been of so much more use

than a daughter, she thought. Shes never said that, nor has Marjorie, but Im sure they

must have thought it once or twice. Im certainly as flat as a boy. She lacked her mothers

ample chest and her height. Even if we sold just to the town--

I say no.Marjories eyes narrowed. As you wish, Daughter, she replied primly. When

you go to town, Mable, we shall want you to purchase a sedate navy blue for us, and

something in a tasteful brown for you.Mable sighed. Must I always be clad in brown?

It is the only colour which truly suits you, Lena replied with some reluctance in

her voice. Pastels make you look ill, in black you appear jaundiced, and in navy you arelittle more than death warmed over.

Mable grimaced. How can I argue with such logic? she wondered. How aboutsomething in apple red? She managed not to laugh aloud at such an outrageous thought.Red being the colour of tarts and trollops, just as brown is the colour of the dignified poor.


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Chapter Four

Another order of fabric?Yes, Mister Eddington. For one brief moment, Mable thought about following

Autumn-Roses oft-repeated advice and ordering something bright and cheerful. Id like to

have two yards of apple red cotton, she thought about saying, and then watch him keel overin shock. Not that he stocked such material, of course. Ill take seven yards of the navy

blue linen and three yards of brown, she told him reluctantly.

Of course.The door swung open and a man stepped through with a blast of chilly air.

Bloody hell! he swore. Its freezing out there. He stamped his boots on the

floor. That damned street is more mud than track. I thought I was going to lose my horse

in any number of those puddles. And the so-called highway is little better.Eddingtons eyebrows had lifted past his non-existent hairline. Your language! he

exclaimed. Sir, there are ladies present.

Ladies? The man looked around the store, then gave his head a shake. I see only

a single femaleand shes barely half a one.The storekeeper blinked again and his mouth opened, but no sounds issued forth.

Mable stared at the stranger. He was tall and rugged, with a white streak runningthrough his chestnut beard. Its him, she thought. The wagon rider I saw.

Are you done serving her?

No.

Then be quick about it. I have a sizable order to place. He turned on one bootedheel and strode towards the barrels of nails and other hardware.

Sir, I really must protest.

Protest away. But when you are done with the lass, I shall want six bags of branand pollard, a bag of flour, a tin of baking powder, two bags of sugar, a side of bacon, a

pound of butter, half a dozen eggs, and six jars of whatever jam you keep on stock.

Eddington inhaled sharply. Will that be all?No, Ill need a box of twelve gauge cartridges. Ill take a dozen candles and two

gallons of kerosene as well.

Eddingtons mouth was hanging open, but no sounds were emerging.And after you ready all that, then we can discuss the nails, rope, and other supplies I

require.

Mable blinked. Hes so forceful.

Will you be starting an account? the shopkeeper asked in a strained voice.No, cash on the counter. The man smiled. I dont believe in accounts owing.

Eddington swallowed.

My fabric? Mable prompted. Unless you would rather wait and serve him first?What? No, you were here first and your order is small. He reached for his shears

and began to cut the bolt of fabric.

Mable dragged her eyes away from the tall stranger and wisely kept her mouth silentas the obviously distracted Eddington absentmindedly cut an extra yard of fabric from each

of the bolts.

* * *


13/73

Laden with shopping bags, Mable hurried towards the library.

You look all out of breath, Autumn-Rose exclaimed after Mable had burst throughthe door. Why, my dear, you actually have colour in your cheeks.

Mable opened her mouth, then gasped as a sharp pain ran through her side. Her

shopping bags fell to the floor.Sit down!

Ill be all right in a moment. She tried to wave aside Autumn-Roses help, but

found herself ensconced in a damask-upholstered chair by the fire regardless with her heavycoat unbuttoned. Its nothing.

You burst in here all afire with news and then were struck speechless with pain.

Autumn-Rose had vanished off into the kitchen, but reappeared a moment later with a small

pottery jug and a tiny cup. Just have a sip of this.Mables nose wrinkled at the strong smell which issued forth as her friend pulled the

cork from the jug.

Dont be alarmed. This is just a little something I keep on hand. Purely for

medicinal purposes.Mable took a sip, and then choked.

That will put some colour back in your cheeks.Wha-what is that?

Just whiskey.

Just whiskey.

Yes, so you just sit there and catch your breath a moment.Mable did so while Autumn-Rose fussed over a flickering candle. The library was

dimly lit and the air was lightly scented with roses.

Please stop fussing over me. Im fine.Autumn-Rose gave her an appraising look. Are you sure?

Yes. It was just a little pain.

If you say so. Autumn-Rose pursed her lips, but then plopped herself down intoanother chair and rested her hands in her lap. So, whats your story? Whatever happened

to bring such colour into your cheeks?

Mable felt herself blush again. I was over in Eddingtons store, giving him mymothers order for fabric. While I was there, this man came in.

A man? Autumn-Rose splashed a bit more whiskey into the teacup. Who?

Somebody new. A stranger. Mable took another sip of the whiskey and coughed.

Ive never seen him before, but he was handsome. Tall and rugged-looking, like someoneout of one your books.

Did he come galloping along on his horse to save you from your evil mother?

Oh, dont say such things!Autumn-Rose giggled, and a moment later Mable joined her in laughing.

So who was he?

He said his name was Scott. Mables cheeks coloured yet again. I lingeredoutside the door so I could listen.

Autumn-Rose giggled.

He was just so handsome. Like a breath of fresh air blowing in to freshen up the

stuffy store. Oh listen to me, talking like a character from one of your books.


14/73

Theres nothing wrong talking like that, Mable. Autumn-Rose shook her head. I

would not worry about it. So you lingered and listened?

Yes, he was buying a great lot of things. Nails and rope and some grain.Sounds like someone setting up a house.

Do you think so? Mables heart gave a little leap. But where?

Well, you heard him place his order. Did it sound like something a traveller wouldbuy up?

No, he was buying a homesteads worth of things.

So he must be moving into the area. Autumn-Rose stood up and then bouncedacross the floor to fetch some biscuits from the cupboard. So what land did he buy? she

asked. What is for sale?

Mable frowned. Ive not heard of anything in the village.

Nothing that your family does not already own at least.They dont own everything.

Your cousins own a good chunk of the village and the farms around it. I know that

you are not your cousins, but still.

Were as poor as church mice.I still like you. Autumn-Rose smiled and offered another biscuit. Anyway, tell

me more about this mysterious Scott of your owns.Oh, he swears like a trooper. Tall and solidly built. Chestnut coloured beard, with

hair to match.

Scott Barstow, you say? Was there a white stripe in his beard?

Surely you do not know him?I think that I recall someone of that name and description from my time in Toronto,

but its hard to be sure, she added. It was a long time ago after all.

Mable nodded. You must have known so many people there.I have a new book for you that you simply must read! Autumn-Rose hurried to

one of the shelves. Its called A Restless Heart. This young woman is trapped in a lonely

farmhouse and eventually meets a handsome stranger. She falls in love with him and tries towin his heart. He marries someone else and she loses all hope. Eventually she suffers a

heart attack and dies in his arms and he realises that he really loves her too. Oh, its just so

tragic! I cried for days and days.Mable smiled. Ill read it anyway. Autumn-Rose often told her the plots of books

before she borrowed them. It never lessened her enjoyment of them in the least. Thank

you.

I saw your cousin, Olivia in the street. Well, I was walking and she was riding inher carriage, of course. I dont think she walks anywhere.

Mable shook her head. Neither do I. Her cousin was glamorous and fashionable.

She was riding with some other girl and she was going on and on about herengagement. Autumn-Rose chuckled. She might as well take out an advertisement in the

paper.

Olivia has always had the best of everything.She keeps all of her goods in the shop-windows, for everyone to admire. And you

know what happens to goods in shop-windows? They fade. After she gets married, shes

going to grow fat and lazy and develop the most dreadful temper.

Mable giggled. How can you say that?


15/73

Why should I not?

* * *

There was a new man in Eddingtons shoppe today.

A new man? Marjories knitting needles clicked softly. A traveller?No, he was ordering a lot of supplies. He must have just moved in.

Lena stirred the stew one final time and then began to ladle out three bowls worth.

I havent heard of any new sharecroppers moving in, she said as she set the bowls onto thetable.

Hes no sharecropper. He was far too forceful to be someones tenant. She had

been thinking about him all day. Where did he come from/ Will I be able to see him again?

She gave herself a little shake. Why would he give me a second glance? she asked herself.Im no great beauty. Maybe he bought his own farmstead.

I wonder where he found the land.

Theres plenty of land around for the clearing, Marjorie said.

Ive not heard of anything going up for sale though. Lena poured hot water intothe teapot and left it to steep.

Mable was staring into space. For a fleeting moment, she imagined herself standingon the highway and Scott riding up on a horse and offering her lift into town.

In any event, we will no doubt be able to find all about this mystery man tomorrow

after the service.

Is Gregory going to be on time? Marjorie asked from her chair. I dont hold withbeing late for church. Bad enough arriving two weeks ago soaked clean through from the

rain--I thought the tarp was oiled my foot!--but then to be late on top of it all.

He said he would be here by nine.Twas shameful having to walk down the aisle to our pew, with everyone staring at

us, Marjorie continued as if her daughter had not spoken. And with the Reverend

standing behind his pulpit, waiting for us to take our places. Ill have sharp words--verysharp words mind you--if Gregory is late this week.

Yes, Mother.


16/73

Chapter Five

Christ Church was gleaming in the strong sunlight as the wagon pulled into its place.The steeple was the tallest structure in the village, easily seen from even distant farms. The

wooden boards were whitewashed and the windows freshly cleaned.

I see that Reverend McWhirter finally got the place whitewashed. Lenas tonesounded approving as she waited for Gregory Landry to help her mother down from the cart.

She wore a narrow skirt in the current style, with a floral-patterned bonnet on her head.

Cant have April leave without getting all of the spring cleaning done. Marjorieleaned heavily on her stick as Gregory turned to help Lena down. Cant have the house of

God looking untidy. Her navy blue skirts swished as she hobbled slowly towards the

churchs door.

Mable had hopped out of the wagon by herself and now waited for her mother andgrandmother to finish making themselves presentable. Her eyes drifted past the low picket

fence which surrounded the yard of the church and its cemetary.

Lena patted her dark hair back under her bonnet.

Gregory and his wife had already headed inside of the small church.Come, child. Lena hurried after her mother, with Mable in tow.

Autumn-Rose was seated in one of the rear pews. She waved.Ill be over there, Mable said.

You should sit with your family.

Lena, let her be. Marjorie gave her a warm smile. Go along, dear.

Mable hurried over to where Autumn-Rose sat by herself. You look beautiful.Autumn-Rose grinned back. I was trying for demure. Her dark hair was brushed

back and tied with blue ribbons. She was wearing another of her dark green dress, this one

ankle-length. Did I manage it?You look perfectly respectable. And stunning. Mable could scarcely believe that

no one was giving Autumn-Rose any attention. She might as well be invisible to everyone,

she thought. Im the one who should be invisible, dressed in this ugly brown.

Most of the village had already taken their seats. There was a soft drone of quiet

conversations between people.

Cover your ears, Autumn-Rose whispered. This is going to be loud.Mable giggled.

Octavia OBannion, dressed in a fine gown with a large hat covered with feathers,

had taken up her usual position on the bench in front of the organ. She flexed her fingers

and then reached for the keys. Octavia had considerable enthusiasm for her playing, if notthe talent to match.

There he is! Mable bent her head close to that of Autumn-Rose so that the other

could hear her whisper over the organ.The stranger, dressed in a black suit with matching waistcoat, was just now stepping

through the door. He removed his bowler, and then eyed the empty pews at the back of the

church.Oh, he is a tasty one, Autumn-Rose agreed with a soft giggle.

The man made his way to a pew on the far side of the church and sat down.

You are terrible.

Hush, youre thinking the same thing.


17/73

Were in church! Mable was torn between scandal and admiration. Ive never metanyone like you, she thought. I wish I could be more like you. The Mohawk girl was

considerably more bold and vibrant than anyone else in the village.You know, I do know him. Autumn-Rose smiled slightly. The expression made

her even more radiant. Thats the same man I knew in Toronto.

Mable heard a faint note in her friends voice. Is that regret? Did you love him?No, I never loved him. She laughed softly. I can honestly be certain of that

much. So can you. I never loved Scott.

Oh.He was exceedingly close to my husband.

I never knew you were widowed.

Autumn-Rose laughed again. Oh, Im not. Hes quite alivesomeplace or other.

Mable closed her open mouth with a click. So youre a? she fell silent,uncertain how to continue.

Yes, I chose to separate myself from my marriage for a time. It was all just a

formality at the end. Hes quite free of me though, if he ever wants to remarry.

Mables eyes widened. Divorce was all but unheard of. People in Maple Grovemade the best of their marriages, whether made in Heaven or Hell. It must have been so

difficult for you. She tried to keep her voice from sounding to prim and proper.No, it was just a marriage of convenience really. He found me ever-so-exotic and I

found his money ever-so-handy.

Reverend McWhirter stepped up to his pulpit as the organ fell silent. He cleared his

throat. He was clean-shaven, with heavy jowls and eyes lost beneath bushy eyebrows. Heopened his Bible. The thought of the day is renewal, he declared.

Mable contrived to be standing near the doorway when the stranger paused to shake

hands with Reverend McWhirter. Her mother and grandmother had stopped to chat a

moment with Gertrude Dumbleton.Welcome to Maple Grove, the Reverend was saying to the stranger.

Thank you.

I am Andrew McWhirter, the reverend for this flock.Scott Barstow. He offered his hand.

You are new to the flock.

Im new to this area.

All are welcome here in Gods House.Thank you, Reverend. Ill bear that in mind. He gave the minister a nod, then

turned and paced towards the hitching rail and his waiting horse.

Mable watched him ride westward, out of town.Mable!

At her mothers call, she turned to where the wagons had been parked.

The Landrys are waiting for you. Lena managed to keep the exasperation from hervoice as she stood near the wagon. Come on, girl.

* * *


18/73

The farmhouse was quiet and Mable hastily shed her dress, flannel petticoat, woollen

stockings, and bloomers. The room had chill to it and after pulling on her prickly flannel

nightgown, she gratefully dove into her bed and pulled the blankets to her chin. She couldhear her mother moving around in the next room.

Are those enough blankets for you?

Yes, dear, Marjorie replied in a low tone. Stop fussing over me.I dont want you to catch cold.

I wont, not under all these blankets. Marjorie sighed. Somethings amiss with

you, girl. Spit it out.You know what tomorrow is.

Monday.

Mother!

I keep hoping that one year you will forget about the date.Would you ever forget that day?

No, Marjorie admitted sadly. Some days, losing him feels so strong that its like

it just happened yesterday.

There are times that I miss Duncan.I miss my Frank, but I would never replace him. Marjorie paused. Although

there are cold winter nights that I would not object to having another warm body in herewith me.

Mother!

I know, but its truth nonetheless.

I wish Mable would find herself a man. Lena sighed. Anyone. Shes almosttwenty. And I fear that she is doomed to spinsterhood.

She is not doomed.

She is not being courted by anyone.But what can we do, Lena? It is not our fault that she was not favoured with great

beauty. There is no money for her dowry. All that she can offer a prospective husband is

this small farm.Hush. When the time is right, God will provide her with a suitable husband.

I fear that her time is running out.

If Duncan was still alive, things would be so different.I know. Marjorie sighed. At least she is not suffering more of those chest pains.

That she has told us about.

You think she has had other ones?

Yes, but she wont wish to bother us. Stubborn girl.I wonder where she gets that from. Marjories tone was exceedingly dry.

I am going to mention this to Doctor Beland the next time that I am in town.

That might be for the best, dear.Mable closed her eyes. I dont want to worry them, she thought. I cant afford to be

a bed-ridden invalid. The burden would be too great to bear! Maybe the doctor would not

find anything wrong with her. Maybe he wont be able to see me. Perhaps it was better notto know if anything was truly wrong with her.


19/73

Chapter Six

A blue jay screamed out invective from one of the pines, and then flapped into theair.

Mable smiled to herself. She could see the river from the hard packed dirt of the

Kings Highway.She spotted a narrow path, branching off southward from the road. It must be down

here, she murmured. Ive not seen this opening before. It was aimed towards the river.

At least he will have himself a nice view.She walked along the path, brushing past clumps of junipers.

She found herself thinking about the new stranger in the village. Scott Barstow.Who is he? Where had he come from? Why would he want to settle in Maple Grove? What

could that little village offer him? What kind of house does he have? She could not help butwonder. Some rude little cottage of rough logs chinked with moss? Something nicer?

She clutched at her chest as a sharp pain suddenly stabbed through her. Oh! She

staggered and leaned against a bare tree branch.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned there until the pain had faded.For a few minutes, she thought about returning home, but the village was closer now.

This would have been a perfect moment for Scott to come riding and catch me up inhis arms, she muttered to herself. A scene straight out of one of those penny-dreadfuls.

She sighed then. Men want beautiful women, she thought, and I am far from beingbeautiful. Or so she had believed. The farmhouse held a single mirror and it was forbidden

for her to simply stand and stare at her reflection. Her few glimpses, were coloured by theguilt that she was lingering too long.

* * *

Did you enjoy the book?

Oh, yes. She handed A Restless Heartback to her friend. It was so sad when shedied at the end.

But at least it was in his arms. Autumn-Rose sighed loudly. She set the book onto

a nearby table and then slumped back in the wingback chair. Thats the way to leave theworld, she declared. Its the way that Id wish to leave the world at least, cradled in the

arms of some big, strong, handsome man.Its the way I almost went today, Mable thought. Only I had no big, strong,

handsome man to catch me. Do you have anyone in mind?Oh, not around Maple Grove. But at least I have my book illustrations and my

overly active imagination.

Just like me. Mable sighed. Maybe youll find your man.Oh, Ive already had a man. Books are better.

Mable managed to look shocked, but after a moment the look faded. All I have are

my dreams.Those are nice too.

You have so many books here. They tell me so much about the world. All the big

cities Ill never get to see.

Oh, youll travel the country someday Im certain.


20/73

Mable shook her head. Weve no money for travelling, she thought sadly. Scarcelyenough money to keep body and soul together, as Mother often says. I feel like Im tied to

the farm. I dream about seeing a big city, but Ill be lucky to make it as far as Kingston, letalone Toronto.

I lived in Toronto for years and years. Autumn-Rose leaned back in her chair and

sipped at her tea. Its so big and vibrant compared to Maple Grove. Theres oftentimesmore people walking about on just one street than in all of Maple Grove.

Mable shook her head at the thought.

Its not just one big city though. Its a collection of several towns and villagesgrowing together.

Is it really as muddy as the stories say?

One day in April I was walking along Bank Street and I spotted a very nice looking

hat in the mud. I thought it would make a nice gift for a gentleman friend of mine, so Istepped out into the street to retrieve it. And when I lifted it up, I found a mans head

underneath it!

Mable gasped.

Good afternoon, he said to me.Good afternoon, I replied. Do you require any assistance?

No, he said, but the horse Im riding certainly does.Mable had to set her teacup down until she was finished laughing. You made that

up! she accused after she had caught her breath.

Maybe I did, and maybe I didnt. There were puddles during the spring thaws that

seemed deep enough to swallow up a man.You never saw such a sight. Even in Muddy York.

Autumn-Rose refilled their teacups. Are you going to visit the mysterious stranger

at his house?How can you suggest such a thing!

Because one of us has too. Living away from town like he does. The poor man

must be lonely.Mable felt her face colouring. Then why dont you go and visit him? You used to

know him.

I dont think hed appreciate seeing the likes of me again, she replied stiffly. Butyou, I dare say, would be more his type.

Mable sighed. I should get going back home.

So soon?

I have to stop by Eddingtons store to pick up some things. Mable reached for herbonnet. Mother will be expecting me to come back soon.

Mable stood watching while Kenneth Eddington measured tea from a barrel into a

smaller bag.

One pound, you said?Yes. She paused, then cleared her throat. Your thumb is resting on the edge of

the scale.

He looked at her, his eyes going wide. Is it? he asked in a low and cold tone of

voice.


21/73

She blushed and hastily looked down at the floor. My apologies, I must be

mistaken.

He snorted and finished filling the bag. Will there be anything else, Miss Cheney?No, she replied meekly and handed him the coins.

Then good day to you.

She turned and hurried out of the store.


22/73

Chapter Seven

Ive milked Molly and fed the chickens. My chores are done for the day.And now you want to disappear? Lena sniffed. I dont like you taking off on

these long walks, she announced in a disapproving tone. The woods are not safe.

Mable can take care of herself. Marjorie reached for her teacup. She knows howto stay away from bears. If any have emerged from their winter sleeping yet.

It is not the thought of encountering bears which fills me with dread, Lena told her

mother in a low tone. Nor wolves.Mable has nothing to fear. Give the girl a little peace.

Its a warm day. I wont be gone for long. Mable settled her shawl about her

shoulders and set off before her mother could argue further. He always rides in from the

west, she told herself.

* * *

One of the best views of the River was from Chickadee Clearing. At least, thatwas the name her father had given it when he showed it to her for the first time. Listen to

them singing, he had said as the chickadees called out from their nests in the pine branches.Mable pushed her way through the branches of a pine trees. The clearing was just as

she remembered it from last year.Well, not quite, she thought. A mound of limestone blocks were piled on the western

edge of the clearing, and a rough log cabin was built on the eastern side. Those are new.

Chick-a-dee-dee-dee

What are you doing out here?

Oh! Mable jumped and nearly fell.Scott Barstow was leaning against an oak tree and staring at her.

I was just, that is, I was. Mable coughed into her hand. I was simply out for

little a walk, she declared. As I often do.A walk?

Yes, a walk.

He gestured. The highway is back that way. He was wearing a plain cotton shirtand trousers, with neither hat nor coat. There was no trace of grey in his chestnut hair.

I enjoy the peace of the forest and seeing the river. She waved towards it. I like

to watch the ships sailing it.

Ive seen no ships.Its not shipping season yet. It would be starting soon though. The River sees

much travel. And you have chosen a fine spot from which to view it once the ice breaks

enough.Have I now?

Oh yes, you have. My father used to bring me here, when I was just a girl.

Chickadee Clearing, he called it. For obvious reasons.The call ofchick-a-dee-dee-dee filled the silence.

I didnt know this clearing was taken.


23/73

It was just our place. Mable shrugged. I like to come here every year. She

paused. Wherever are my manners? I am Mable Cheney. My mother and I live just down

the road, back towards the village.Scott Barstow.

I know.

Scott frowned.Oh, I heard your name mentioned after church. She coughed into her hand. You

know how small villages are when strangers come to settle.

Everyone wants to know every last thing. Scott grimaced. No privacy at all.Not at first, Mable agreed.

A few moments passed.

No doubt you must be thirsty after your long walk, Scott finally said. Can I offer

you something to drink then, before you set off homeward?Mable shook her head. No, thank you. Im fine.

Im sorry I startled you.

Its my fault for venturing down here. I never thought to find a home built here.

Its just a small one yet. I bought the land fairly, he added.Im sure you will be happy here.

I need a drink. Scott gestured to the rough house. Ive been cutting firewoodsince before sunup.

The stitch in her side was back. She could feel twinges of it as it stirred. Not now,

she pleaded silently. Dont let me faint! She eyed Scotts broad chest and muscular arms.Or perhaps I should Perhaps a glass of water would not be out-of-place, she admitted,not wanting to end their meeting.

This way then. Scott gestured.

The interior of the cabin was just one room.

A rough bed took up a portion of the eastern wall. A fireplace dominated the westwall. There were numerous boxes piled on the floor, against the back wall.

Is this your home?

Yes, for now.Mable looked around again. The logs were rough and she could light through the

chinks in the wood.

This is just temporary, Scott explained.

It will be awfully cold come winter. You will need to fill in all those gaps betweenthe logs else you will freeze.

Oh, I dont plan to live in here come winter, he told her. Ill have my other house

built by then.Your other house? she asked.

Yes. He was looking at the mound of limestone blocks.

* * *

The farmhouse smelled of freshly baked bread as Mable pushed open the door and

stepped inside. She took off her shawl. The chickens are still out scratching at the grass.


24/73

About time that you came back. Lena turned from the sink of dishes with a look

of concern, which quickly faded into one of annoyance. You missed that nice Jackson

boy.Mable tried not to look too relieved. Did I?

He brought us the mail. Marjorie was seated in her usual chair, knitting. No bills

at least.Im sorry I missed him.

Hes a tad slow, but hes eager to help out. Lena nodded at the table. Doc

Beland came back from Kingston yesterday. You have an appointment with him tomorrow.At three oclock sharp.

Mable stiffened in her chair.

I told him about those little attacks of yours, Mable. He is eager to see you.

But I feel fine.You are going anyway. Lenas tone brooked no possibility of disobedience. I

should go there with you.

You have a meeting with the Reverends wife about the next quilting circle.

Marjories knitting needles clicked together. That starts at two oclock sharp, if I recallrightly, and Eleanor tends to allow her meetings to run overlong. If that woman could knit

as fast as her tongue flaps, shed have no need of a circle.Lena muttered something.

You two can go into town together and come back afterwards. I will just stay out

here alone and forgotten.

Spare me the falsehoods, Lena told her mother. You know that you are quitewelcome to come along to the circle. Mable can run over to the Landrys and ask to borrow

Gregorys mule and cart for tomorrow. I can drive it well enough.

Marjorie shook her head. Riding in that contraption once a week is enough for me.More than enough if I need say it. I will stay here and enjoy some solitude.

Suit yourself, Mother.


25/73

Chapter Eight

We should just stop into Eddingtons.Mable winced as a sharp pain took her breath away. Is there something we need to

order? She hoped that her mother had not noticed.

I just wish to check on our account. Lena hurried down the street with adetermined stride, trying to ignore the fact that her daughter had slowed her own pace. We

have just enough time for this. She reached for the doorknob of the store with a gloved

hand.might have drowned his wife, Eddington was saying from behind his counter to

a white-bearded gentleman. Or at least that is the rumour I overheard.

You must be doing well, Kenneth, if you have the time to stand idle and spread

rumours.Kenneth Eddington stood more straight. I think its important for the village to

know if theres a murderer moving into the area.Murderer? Mable thought in alarm. Whos he talking about?

Lena sniffed. To whom do you refer?That new farmer. Barstow.

Mable felt her heart lurch. Scott? A murderer?

Lena sniffed.

Dumbleton was through earlier this week, up from Toronto with some purchases for

me. Happened to be here when that Barstow stopped in to purchase more victuals. Seems

that Dumbleton recognized him from when he got his face in the papers. Wife was foundfloating face-down in the lake and the police thought he might have helped her into that

state of affairs.

I dont believe it! Mable exclaimed.You should not spread such slander, Lena told him reprovingly. You have no

proof other than Dumbletons hazy recall of a face from a newspaper? She shook her head.

He is far from a reliable witness at the best of times.Now, Lena.

Good afternoon, Mister Maguire.

The white-bearded man nodded to her and tipped his hat. Good afternoon, Lena.Youre looking well. He leaned his weight a bit more heavily on his stick.

Thank you. How is your wife?

Shes up and about. Touch of arthritis in the cold. Shes minding the grandchildren

today.You both must come to tea some afternoon. Its been a long winter.

That is has. Too long. Too cold.

Eddington cleared his throat loudly. What brings you into town today, Lena? heasked stiffly.

I wished to find out of the status of my account here. She adjusted her bonnet.

And then I must be off to the quilting circle.I have the account here. He showed her the ledger book. Everything has been

duly recorded, he told her.


26/73

Lena studied the column of figures. It matches what I was expecting, she told

him. Thank you. We shall have it paid off by midsummers day. She turned. Come

along, Mable. Let us leave these gentlemen to their gossip.

* * *

Mable sat in the doctors office quietly. The oil lamp hanging from the ceiling gave

a bright glow to the otherwise cold room. Aside from the examination table, the room had a

small oak desk and two spindly chairs.Doctor James Beland stepped through the door with a smile, followed by his

pinched-faced wife, who acted as his nurse. A pleasure to see you again, Miss Cheney.

His white hair was combed back and his beard was trimmed into a sharp point.

Good afternoon, Doctor.From what I gather, your mother believes you are having some small difficulty with

your breathing? A little pain in your chest?

Its nothing important.

Dont tell fibs to your doctor, girl. He shook his head. Ive been looking afteryou since you were birthed. I know all your ailments.

Its just a pain, now and then. It passes.Just a pain and yet you call it nothing? He shook his head. Pain is nevernothing,

my dear girl. He blew on his fingers. Tell me if this hurts any.

Doctor Beland listened to her heart and lungs with his funnel-shaped stethoscope.

Your heart sounds healthy enough, he said, but I think you should go to see a specialist.I know a good man in Toronto.

Mable gasped. All that way? Ive never been to Toronto before.

Then this will be a real treat for you, he told her.

* * *

So have you been to see Mister Barstow?

Mable shook her head. Autumn-Rose, I hardly know the man to nod to him on the

street. Why ever would I be visiting his home?Because you like walking in that particular clearing?

Well, that is true. Mable giggled. There are other clearings I can go walking in

of course. I do not need to spend time in that particular clearing. The talk in town is that he

is a murderer, she added in a low tone of voice.Thats just idle talk. Someone wants to stir up things against the handsome stranger

who stole away their clearing. Autumn-Rose laughed softly and poured more tea into their

cups. The small kitchen was built at the back of the library. Not that anyone hereaboutseven cared about Chickadee Clearing before he bought it. Other than you of course.

He is very handsome, Mable mused. Are you certain that you do not love him?

I told you that I do not. I did not then and I do not now. Autumn-Rose picked upa small fan and wafted air past her face. I did not love my husband eitherit was a

marriage of convenience really. He enjoyed the novelty of my looks and I found his pots

and pots of money to be most convenient.

So there was no love?


27/73

My problem, dear--and it has cost me a great deal of pain and suffering--is that I

have never loved anyone half as much as myself. I made my husband miserable during the

marriage and by our last night together, he hated me and all women. She sighed somewhattheatrically. I really should have been drowned at birth.

Oh dont say that!

Anyway, Im here now. Poor as a church mouse and relying on the generousity ofdistant relatives to run a small library. She gestured to the pot-bellied stove. Tea?

Thank you. Mable settled herself on the chair, trying to avoid one particularly stiff

spring. It must have been ever so difficult for you.Lord knows just how difficult, Autumn-Rose agreed. Dont weep for me, Mable,

as I am not worth it. I have washed ashore for the last time here in Maple Grove to do

penance for my sins.

And what about your husband?Oh, Im sure he landed on his feet and found the chance to do everything that he

ever really wanted too. She paused and sipped at her tea, then she rose to her feet and

paced towards the stove. But, what of your visit to the doctors? That was scheduled for

today, was it not?Oh yes. Doc Beland wants to send me to a specialist.

Autumn-Rose nodded. Makes sense.Hes in Toronto. Somewhere on Bloor.

Oh, Mable, how wonderful! Autumn-Rose whirled around. Thats truly a stroke

of luck. Youll finally be able to see the big city for yourself.

But Ive never left Maple Grove before. I cant go to Toronto by myself.No, you should have a guide. A chaperone.

Ill probably have to go with my mother. Or maybe even with cousin Andrew.

She shuddered. I dont like him. Hes just soso stuck-up!Her friend laughed. I can believe it. Why, when he passes me in the street, he

ignores me. Its almost as if Im invisible. She laughed lightly. More tea?

No, thank you.You know, now that I think about itI have some business with a solicitor down in

Toronto. Its not all that far from your specialist. A few blocks at most. I could very easily

schedule my meeting for the same day as your trip appointment. Then we could go downthere together.

We could? You would do that? Mable reached over and impulsively hugged her

friend. That would be so wonderful.

Autumn-Roses eyes twinkled and she was smiling broadly. Ill make all thearrangements for us. Dont you worry yourself. Just let me take care of everything.

* * *

Welcome home. Marjorie nodded to them. As you can both plainly see, I am

still alive and breathing despite being left untended for the day. Her grey hair was tied intoa tight bun.

It was only for a few hours, Mable told her.

She probably slept through most of it. Lena poked at the embers in the stove.

Mable, how about fetching some water for tea?


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All right. She picked up the bucket and wandered out to the well. A few half-

pumps to prime it and then she put her back into full strokes so that water welled through

the pump and into the wooden bucket. She picked up the bucket and carried it back to thefarmhouse, slowing before she reached the door.

I dont give a fig about the quilting circle. What did the doctor have to say about

our Mable? Marjorie asked.He claims that he could find nothing wrong with her. Shes as skinny as a wormy

cow, but she certainly seems healthy enough aside from these attacks. He prescribed no

medicine, just plenty of nourishing food and sufficient rest.Is that all?

He is sending her to Toronto to see a specialist of some sort.

Toronto!

I know. I cant imagine why she should have to go there. Its so far away.You will have to accompany here. She cannot possibly go to that den of vice by

herself.

Mable pushed open the door. I hope this will be enough water, she announced as

she stepped inside.More than enough for the rest of the day. Lena nodded.

Marjorie was sitting in her favourite rocking chair. So, she said as she reached forknitting needles, what did Doctor Beland have to say?

I have to go to Toronto to see a specialist.

In Toronto? Marjorie was still aghast at the idea. But thats so far away.

Its only a few hours by train.Why couldnt you go to Kingston? It seemed a nice enough place when I was last

there.

You havent been there in ten years, Mother.I doubt that its changed much.

Lena pursed her lips. You cannot possibly go to Toronto without a proper

chaperone. I will go to town tomorrow and speak with Andrew. No doubt he will havesome sort of business there shortly and he can accompany you.

Mable managed to keep the distaste she felt at the thought from appearing on her

face. My friend, Autumn-Rose, has business there with her solicitor next week. She saidthat she would schedule her appointment so that she can go on the same day as me.

Marjorie was frowning and shaking her head. Two young ladies venturing into that

city. She shuddered. The stories Ive heard about it. The sins and vice which will corrupt

you.Autumn-Rose lived there for years and years without incident or corruption. Shes

told me all about it many times.

I really should go with you, but who would stay to look after Mother.Marjorie snorted in a rather unladylike fashion. Im not dead yet, girl. I can look

after myself for a day or two.

Lena shook her head, clearly not listening. Maybe your cousin Andrew could takethe day off and go down with you. He often has business down in Toronto.

Mable grimaced. Autumn-Rose is already going. Why should we bother Andrew

over this?


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Maybe this friend of yours, this Autumn-Rose, could come to the house for tea,

Marjorie suggested. We could talk to her directly and find out more about what she thinks

of Toronto.Oh yes, we could.

Lena shook her head one final time.


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Chapter Nine

The house was freshly dusted and scrubbed from top to bottom.Its just a friend of mine, Mable said for the tenth time that morning. You dont

have to go to all this bother.

Nonsense, Lena replied as she looked around the kitchen one more time. Thishouse needed a good scrubbing to bring it back into shape after a winter of slackness. Not

fit for the cow to sleep in here. She eyed the floorboards with a critical gaze. Is that mud

on your boots?Of course not. The floor looked clean enough to eat from. Mable looked around

again. There were a few spring flowers in a vase on the table, and the curtains were tied

back so that the sun could shine through.

Lena poked at the kettle on the stove. I hope the tea brews right.Its tea, Marjorie said from her chair. How can it not brew right? Her knitting

needles clicked softly. A light shawl was draped around her shoulders.

Do we have any clean plates?

The dishes have all been washed and put away, Mother. Mable had done the jobfirst thing. The cookies look perfect.

I hope theyre sweet enough. We were low on honey. Lena opened the cupboarddoor and looked at their stock of china. Help me find the least chipped plates, she said.

Mable started at the knock. She hurried to open it. Come in.Autumn-Rose stepped through the door and looked around the kitchen. Good

afternoon to you all. She was wearing a rather subdued--for her--blue dress, though it was

still far brighter than anything Lena or Marjorie had ever owned or worn. Her dark hair wastied back in a neat braid which fell down her back.

This is Autumn-Rose, Mable said making the introductions. My mother, Lena,

and my grandmother, Marjorie Douglas.Mrs Cheney. Mrs Douglas. Mable has spoken about you quite often during her

visits to my library.

Has she?Oh yes. Autumn-Rose followed Mable into the parlour. There were four

wingback chairs and three small tables. And your house is very nice. So clean, much more

so than I would have expected. Too many of the farmhouses are just let go with people

worrying over their crops. I hope you didnt go to any trouble just for me.No trouble at all, Lena replied with a completely straight face. She gave the

parlour another glance. From the floral-patterned wallpaper on the walls to the lace hanging

around the windows, the room looked suitably elegant. The tea should be steeped shortly.Can I offer you a biscuit?

Oh, thank you.

Sit yourself down, Marjorie gestured to a chair across from where she was sitting.We get so few visitors out here.

I cant imagine why. Its not that far of a ride. Autumn-Rose gave Mable a warm

smile and then winked. What are you knitting just now?

Just a few wash cloths right now.


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Ive seen that lovely scarf that Mable wears in the winter. And the mittens to

match. Were they your work?

Yes.Far better work than much of what I saw in the stores back in Toronto. If you had

seen the prices some boutiques charged for such shoddy quality, it would make you cry.

Would it really?Oh yes. Shocking I tell you.

Please, help yourself to some cookies. Lena set the plate onto the table.

Autumn-Rose took one. Your handiwork, Mrs Cheney?You may call me Lena.

All right.

And Marjorie will do for me. Being called Mrs Douglas makes me feel like an

old woman. She laughed at that. Im just so glad that Mable has found someone of herown age to talk with. She spends far too much time alone.

Theres nothing wrong with being alone at times. Oftentimes I enjoy walking the

outskirts of Maple Grove in the early morning or evenings. Its such a change to the pace of

life in the city.Lena shook her head. The city, she said, not quite masking the worry in her voice.

Oh, its big and vibrant and crowded, but its hardly the den of vice that yourethinking it is.

I should hope not!

And these biscuits are delicious. Autumn-Rose reached for a second. So good

for ones digestion as well.Therere nothing fancy-- Lena began.

That is why theyre so delightful. When you take tea anywhere, one is always

pressed to accept refreshments. And all too often the cooking is either poor, or else overdone. Why, the last time that I was invited to tea, why I nearly drowned in the rich creams

and jams poured over things.

Marjorie dunked her biscuit into her teacup. It does get difficult, I would imagine.

* * *

You charmed them. Mable smiled at her friend as she walked Autumn-Rose back

towards her mule-cart. You charmed them both and they never quibbled about my coming

with you. Not one little bit.

Your mother is a most reasonable woman. At times at least. Autumn-Rose heldout a ticket which she had pulled from inside her purse. This is for you.

You already bought my ticket? Mable reached for it with some reluctance. Ill

pay you back, she promised with all of the pride that someone poor could muster.Oh, Im not concerned about that. Autumn-Rose waved her hand dismissively.

Its a gift to you.

No, I insist on paying. Mother has promised to give me some money for the trip.And a lecture about spending any of it no doubt. Save it. Maybe youll see

something in Toronto that you simply must have.

Shed kill me if I wasted her coins on some foolishness.

Then dont tell her.


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Autumn-Rose!

Im not asking you to lie to her. She sent you with money for your ticket, yet your

ticket is already taken care of. Instead, you can spend it on something else. Whats theharm in this?

I suppose that theres none.

Precisely. The Mohawk girl smiled widely. Ill see you at the train. She gaveMable a hug. Dont be late.


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Chapter Ten

The train rattled along the tracks.Its louder than I expected.

Its faster than a wagon.

Faster than a galloping horse. Mable watched the trees flicking past the windowas the train moved along. The second class section was fairly comfortable.

Now and then, the forest opened into cleared fields belonging to small farms.

Exciting, isnt it?Very. Mable turned back to the window. I never dreamt it was like this. She

thought back to being on the platform when the train first rolled into sight. A huge black

monster of an engine clunking past, with torrents of grimy smoke and fierce gushes of white

steam.Did you see your cousin?

No. Mable shook her head. Is she on the train?

In the first-class carriage, of course. Olivia walked past me on the platform without

a single word of greeting. Just like I told you earlier. Keeps all her goods on display for thesun to fade.

Mable giggled. You say the most outrageous things, she exclaimed.Well someone has to say them.

* * *

There are so many people.

And this is only one street.

Mable shook her head. Since stepping off the train at the station and walkingthrough the building, she was left amazed. How do you ever find your way around here?

Some of those buildings have to be five or more stories! Certainly nothing in Maple Grove

was that tall. Not even the churchs steeple.

Practice. Autumn-Rose smiled in amusement at the way her friend was craning

her neck and staring wide-eyed at everyone and thing. You get used to it. Sometimes.

Mable looked around again. There were men and women dressed in what had to bethe latest fashions. The women with their full blouses and narrow waists; the men in their

sack coats and trousers. Mable glanced down at her own plain brown dress and sighed. MySunday best, she thought, and it looks so drab compared to what they are wearing. She

glanced at her friend. Even Autumn-Rose seems almost subdued.

Autumn-Rose was wearing her jade-green dress along with a wide-brimmed hat

topped with several feathers. She still maintained her usual glow, but even it seemed

subdued in contrast with the city.Mable stopped while two well-dressed men with trimmed beards and curled

moustaches walked past. Both of them wore morning coats, high-buttoned waistcoats,

creased fly-front trousers, and top hats.I never really did get used to it. Neither did my husband. We ended up here, not

quite by choice, and eventually we drifted apart. Autumn-Rose stared at the buildings as

she slowly walked along the sidewalk. We never should have gotten married. We were

both simply swept up in things.


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You make it sound like the plot from one of your books.

In some cases it was. Love is like that, taking you by surprise and washing you off

to unknown shores. Its not always a pleasant journey, nor does it always have a happyending.

Im sorry.

Dont be. You had no control over it. Sometimes I dont think that I did either.But I brought you here. Back to all these memories.

I have business here, remember? She waved her hand. If I recall correctly, there

was a delightful little cafe a block or so west. We should be able to take tea there, and thenget you to your doctor.

* * *

The doctors office was on the third floor of an office building.

Mable stared through the window at Bloor Street below. Its like being up in thechurch steeple, she thought.

Doctor Williamson will be with you shortly.Thank you.

The round-faced nurse vanished into another room.Mable turned back towards the street. Autumn-Rose had left her at the front door,

hastening away to meet with her solicitor, while Mable met with her doctor.

Come in here, please.

Mable left the waiting room and followed the nurse into a room endowed with

moveable screens of terrifying whiteness.Please remove your clothing.

Everything?

Yes, every stitch. Then wrap that towel around yourself and lie down on theexamining table.

All right. Reluctantly, Mable did as she had been ordered.

A few minutes passed before the door opened and the doctor entered, followed byhis nurse. Good morning. He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers, with a dark

blue waistcoat.

Good morning. Mable gave the reply, while thinking that this was a most unusual

way of meeting anyone. What does Williamson look like when his nostrils are not his most

prominent feature? She managed not to burst out laughing at the thought.

Gerald Williamson looked closely at her, his nurse standing behind him in silent

attendance. Take a deep breath, he commanded.Mable did so.

Williamson listened to her heart and lungs through a stethoscope--one far sleeker

than that used by Doctor Beland--and then took her pulse. Hmm.Mable gagged as he inserted a spatula down her throat.

His fingers began to work around her flinching belly.

Are you learning anything? Mable asked in a weak voice.

Yes, he replied. His curled moustache quivered.


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You cant just go through his papers like that!

Dear James, she read aloud. How very formal of him.

Im not listening.The patient you have referred to me is suffering from heart troubles of the kind you

suspected. At best I can only give her a year before she must pass from this world. You

should take this one with you. Fatal heart trouble is always good for getting you out ofscrapes.

I cant take his letter.

He can always write another one. Autumn-Rose stuffed the letter into Mableshandbag. There you go.

I cant do this!

Its done. The doctors footsteps were creaking out in the hallway. See?

The door creaked open and Marshall stepped back into the office. Ready to be onyour way, Miss Cheney?

Autumn-Rose gave her a wink. Lets go for a little stroll and then lunch.

* * *

The restaurant was opulent.Theres simply nothing like this in Maple Grove. Mable shook her head. Its all

so overwhelming. This single room was larger than the tea-room in the village--it had to

be larger than her entire farmhouse--with crystal chandeliers and marble columns. There

were scores of tables and a veritable army of waiters in formal coats and winged-collarshirts.

I did develop a taste for grand things when I was married. Autumn-Rose smiled.

And the food is amazing. She had been unable to read half of the menu, and soAutumn-Rose had ordered for her and her selections had proven delicious.

Poor Mable. Life has all but passed you by, hasnt it? Autumn-Rose leaned back

in her seat. Now me, life ran me down like that train. Rattle, bang, crash, and there I am,face-down in the water. She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. Cheer up, darling! Life

wont always pass you by, I promise you that.

A nice thing to say, but how can you be so certain?I just have a sense about these things. She smiled and reached for the bill. My

treat.

Oh, let me. You paid for my ticket and then took time out to show me around.

Without you I would have been quite lost.Nonsense. Its been too long since I had a reason to come to Toronto, let alone

have lunch at the Metropolitan. You should have reason to celebrate your heart being sound

as a bell.Mable sighed.

Didnt Doctor Williamson say that you were fine?

Oh yes, Mable said, knowing exactly what Autumn-Rose was implying. But thedisease I have is not easily cursed.

If you like Scott so much, then why not show him?

Show him?

Yes, dear.


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Why would he even take a second look at me?

Not every man desires someone like your cousin Olivia. I can tell you, for a fact,

that you would suit Scott Barstow extremely well.Was he ever married?

At one time. Hes single now though. His wife died.

Oh!Autumn-Rose adjusted her hat.

Waswas she nice?

Well, Icertainly liked her. There were many who did not, of course.Did he like her?

He married her, did he not? Autumn-Rose sighed. I think he liked her well

enough in the beginning, but by the end of their marriage, it was a different matter.

Oh, Mable said in a subdued tone.That was all years and years ago, dear. Autumn-Rose waved her hand. Shall we

go and window shop some more?

Oh yes, lets. Mable nodded. Theres such pretty frocks and dresses here. She

could never afford any of them, of course, but it was nice to look and imagine the stir shewould cause back home should she show up in one to do her weeks marketing.


38/73

Chapter Eleven

Andrews daughter is due to be married in the summer.Good for her. Mable poured a steaming cup of tea into her mothers cup.

Olivia will make a fine wife for her husband-to-be. We have received our formal

invitation. It is scheduled for the tenth of June. Lena was holding the folded paper in herhand. It was written upon a very good quality of stationary, of course, for Andrew and

Rosemary would use nothing less than the best. Were going to need new dresses.

Something dignified of course.Mable shook her head. Something other than brown I hope.

Brown is very dignified.

Weve had this discussion before. Lena spoke firmly. Since Mables return from

the doctor and claim of good health, she was back to her more usual domineeringpersonality.

You will have to go into town and place an order with Eddington for more fabric.

More expense for us. We just ordered dress material a few months back.

Those dresses are fine for summer wear, but they are not suitable for a wedding.Lena shook her head. Would you wear your summer dress to Olivias wedding, Marjorie?

No. Marjorie shook her head reluctantly. Andrew and Rosemary will certainlybe dressed in their finest and we cannot fall short.

Indeed.

We can add some of our lacework to the collars and bodice. A wedding is always a

fine excuse for dressing up a bit. Be a good time to attract a little attention. Marjorie waseying Mable as she said those words.

Will there be anyone there worth attracting?

Lena clucked her tongue. That is not the right kind of attitude to have. You have tobe more confident in yourself, girl.

We shall have to send a bundle of lace into town. I promised Andrew that he would

have plenty to add to Olivias gown.When do you want me to go? Mable asked in resignation.

We will be going there tomorrow.

Mable blinked. We?Of course. I have to speak with Andrew and his wife about certain things. I will be

accompanying you. Or rather, you will be accompanying me.

And I will once again be left out here alone.

Lena turned her head. Mother!Oh its all right. Im used to be being left alone. Im just an old woman after all.

Marjorie turned her head so that Lena would not see her smile.

* * *

Andrews house was one of the largest in town.Of course it is, Mable thought as they walked up the raked gravel drive. He has

money enough. He owns half the village outright and collects rent on the rest.

Lena knocked on the door and a stern-faced butler opened it. He wore a pressed

white shirt and black trousers.


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Mrs Cheney to see my brother, Andrew.

Of course. The butler had affected an accent, but it did not suit him. This way.

The interior of the house was as charming as its faade hinted. Pale wood panelscovered the walls of the hallway, with oil portraits of the family staring down at visitors.

Andrew and Rosemary stepped out of the kitchen and stopped as the butler

approached them, with their guests in tow. Andrew was wearing a dark blue waistcoat, withneither coat nor hat. Rosemarys dress had the full pouter-pigeon look, complete with high

collar. Her hair was swept up in an elaborate style.

I have brought you the lace for Olivias gown. Lena was holding a large box. Ihope it will be enough.

Of course it will be, Andrew replied. Thank you. He gestured and the butler

took the box from Lena, before vanishing into the depths of the house.

Come out to the garden and visit us for a bit, Rosemary said, forcing a welcomingsmile onto her face. Olivia is having a little party in the parlour for her bridesmaids and

friends. You should go and join them, Mable.

Mabl

maple grove

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