by Hewitt, Kate
“Because of everything. Peter and the art holidays, the farm and the garden, not to mention poor Iris Wilson… I’m needed here, Lucas. I can’t just hare off to New York.”
“Surely they can all manage without you for a month.”
“Perhaps, but it would be difficult, and I don’t want to seem as if I’m abandoning them to go gadding about.”
Lucas gazed at her, frowning, her hand still clasped in his. “But it’s such a wonderful opportunity, Ellen. Surely you can’t turn it down.”
“Can’t I?” Ellen returned a bit sharply, tugging her hands out of his. She felt prickly all of a sudden, and she wasn’t even sure why. She knew Lucas was speaking sense.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers as Ellen reached for a smooth, flat stone and skipped it across the water, taking an almost savage sort of pleasure in seeing how far it flew across the placid surface of the bay. “Why did you tell me, if you weren’t going to go?” Lucas asked after a long moment, when she’d skipped another stone, and Ellen let out a weary laugh.
“I don’t know.”
“You want to go.”
She didn’t answer, and he took a step towards her.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Ellen. Why won’t you admit it?”
“I don’t know,” she said again as she flung another stone.
“Ellen—”
“All right, I can admit it.” She wheeled around to face him, agitated now. “Of course I can. Who wouldn’t? Mrs. Frampton was talking about all sorts of things—art exhibitions and the opera, meeting important people, feeling important—” She broke off with a despairing laugh. “Why wouldn’t I want all that?”
“So why are you fighting against it?” Lucas asked urgently. “Why do you seem as if you feel guilty, for wanting such things?”
Ellen didn’t answer; she didn’t think she could. Her chest hurt and her eyes stung and everything felt far too close, far too fragile. She tried to shake her head, but then she somehow ended up gasping instead, and suddenly she was enfolded in Lucas’s arms, her cheek against his chest, her eyes closed… just as she’d once been with Jed.
“Why can’t you go?” he asked quietly, his arms still around her.
“Because…”
“Because why?”
“Because Rose needs me. Caro… Peter…” She spoke falteringly, and she knew Lucas heard her hesitation.
“And I said they could do without you for a month. They did without you for seven years, after all, Ellen.” He spoke gently, not to hurt her, but to remind her that she wasn’t as indispensable as she seemed to believe.
“I know. I don’t actually think I’m invaluable.”
“Then…”
Ellen didn’t know if she had an answer, at least not one she could articulate. Why was she so reluctant to leave the island for a month? What was she afraid of?
“It’s just,” she said after a moment, stepping out of Lucas’s embrace, “that there’s much to do, and I’m so grateful to Aunt Rose for letting me call this wonderful island home—”
Lucas raised his eyebrows as if she’d said something revealing, and Ellen gave him a challenging look.
“What is it?”
“Ever the orphan,” he remarked quietly, and Ellen stilled, annoyed and even hurt by his comment.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Not that she actually wanted to know.
“Isn’t that how you feel?” he challenged. “Like you have to keep proving yourself, so they’ll keep you?”
Quite suddenly, the emotion she’d been trying desperately to push back spilled over and two tears slipped silently down her cheeks. She’d never quite thought of herself that way, not knowingly at least, and yet in that moment she knew it was true. She was trying to be indispensable, so she’d belong. Even now, on her beloved island, in the bosom of the McCafferty family, part of her still felt like an outsider.
“Maybe,” she whispered, and Lucas offered her a smile, full of compassion.
“You know you don’t need to feel that way, Ellen. You belong here as much as any of us do, if not more.”
“Do I, though?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“A little while ago,” she explained, sniffing, “when Peter had his first funny turn, Caro as good as told me I wasn’t family. She’s still been cool with me, making the point that I’m not quite a McCafferty. I know I’m probably being too sensitive, but it hurt more than I dreamed possible.”
Lucas’s frown deepened. “She didn’t mean it, Ellen. She couldn’t have. She’s most likely just afraid, because of Peter, and it’s making her act out in ways she doesn’t even realize.”
“Perhaps, but it was more than once. She made a point of it, at least it felt that way, and I can’t help but feel there’s some truth to it.” She sniffed back the last of her tears and raised her chin to give Lucas a direct look. “After all, it’s true, isn’t it?”
“No, it isn’t, and any of the McCaffertys would tell you so. It’s you who keeps feeling like the outsider. You’re the one who’s afraid.”
Ellen managed a shaky laugh. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”
“I’m trying to tell you the truth. You’re welcome here, Ellen. You’re loved.” He paused, and again, just as before, she felt as if their friendship, so very precious, might slip into something else, something that made her heart lurch in a way that was not unpleasant. She thought Lucas might say something, something of them, and yet he hadn’t spoken of romance or love in years. “By all the McCaffertys,” he finished with a smile as he stepped back, and that strange, edgy feeling of tottering on the precipice of something vague yet immense vanished. “Trust me,” Lucas said, taking another step back, as if he needed to distance himself. “Caro spoke in a moment of fear, that’s all.”
Ellen drew a deep breath as she let the moment pass, like a wave receding. “That’s what Jed said,” she told him, and it felt as if the words dropped into the stillness, like the stones she’d just skipped into the water, sinking beneath the surface without a trace.
Lucas’s gaze swept slowly over her. “Did he,” he remarked after a moment, and it was not exactly a question.
“I spoke to him about Peter, as you must know, since he spoke to you. We talked of it then.” She waited, sensing something from Lucas she didn’t entirely understand. “What has happened between the two of you?” she asked eventually. “Because sometimes you seem… hostile towards one another. Resentful.”
“I don’t resent Jed.” Lucas’s voice was toneless; Ellen could not tell anything from it.
“Does he resent you?” she asked.
Lucas reached down for a smooth stone and skipped it across the water in one forceful movement. It went twice as far as Ellen’s had. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Have you talked about it with him?”
He gave her a humorous look, although his eyes were still hard. “Why would I? You know Jed, Ellen. He’s not one for cozy chats.”
“But you’re brothers.”
“We’ll always be brothers.”
She paused, feeling frustrated, finding her way. “Do you think he resents you being in Toronto? Not working the farm?”
Lucas was silent for a moment as he skipped another stone, the wind off the lake ruffling his hair. “I spent four years at Queen’s training as a lawyer. It would be a poor job if after that I came back to the island to plant corn.”
“But the farm needs your help.”
He gave her a searching look, something dark in his expression. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Sometimes I don’t know if you do,” Ellen replied honestly. “You hardly ever come back… Jed and your father had to do the whole planting by themselves.”
“They hired a man to help.”
“It’s not the same.”
Lucas blew out a breath as he shook his head. “You don’t understand, Ellen.”
“Then t
ell me—”
“No.” He sounded surprisingly like Jed then, his voice flat and firm as he skipped a final stone; it fell into the water with a plop. Lucas turned away from the lake. “We should head back.”
Ellen gazed at him unhappily. “I didn’t mean to quarrel with you.”
“You didn’t.” He gave her a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Come on, I’ll help you across.” He reached out one hand and after a second’s pause Ellen took it as they scrambled across the stony beach that led to the path. “In any case, I still think you should go to New York,” Lucas said briskly once they’d reached the lane. He dropped her hand, and oddly Ellen found she missed it. “Who knows what might happen? And I think it would be good for you to have a rest. The McCaffertys can manage by themselves for a bit.”
“I thought I was a McCafferty,” Ellen reminded him. She felt unsettled by Lucas’s vague coolness; barely perceptible as it was, she knew him well and she felt it.
“And so you are. Besides, you know Rose would want you to go. She’d be cross with you if she knew you had the offer and refused it.”
“You won’t tell her—” Ellen began anxiously, and Lucas shook his head.
“No, that’s not my place. But stop being so afraid of life, of grabbing for it with both hands. You’ve spent enough time in the shadow as it is. Step out into the light.”
“I haven’t been in the shadows—”
“Metaphorical shadows, and you have.” He gave her a faint smile as Jasper Lane came into view.
Ellen paused at the turning, but Lucas had taken a few steps on, down the road.
“Aren’t you coming up—” Ellen began, and he shook his head.
“I should get back. Jed and Dad are expecting me.”
“All right.” Ellen gazed at him uncertainly for a moment, wanting to say something more although she knew not what.
Lucas lifted his hand in farewell. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll talk to you and Rose, and Caro too, about Peter and the hospital.”
As she watched him head down the road towards the Lyman farm, she couldn’t keep from feeling a faint, lingering disappointment, but she could not identify its source.
Chapter Sixteen
There was no time for Ellen to dwell on such vague, restless feelings, for the next morning a telegram arrived from the guests due tomorrow, containing a list of fussy requirements for meals, furnishings, and entertainments, leaving Gracie practically spitting in fury, and Rose at a loss.
“They must have oolong tea, Ellen, but I don’t even know what that is, or where to get it.”
“And they would like to attend a concert?” Gracie added, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “Shall I play them something on the piano?”
“Oh Gracie, you know you can barely bang out a tune,” Sarah protested with a smile. “Besides, half the keys on that old piano don’t even make a sound.”
“I feel they’re going to be terribly disappointed,” Rose said worriedly. “They have quite an elevated view of island life! I fear they won’t recommend us to anyone.”
“Then let them be disappointed,” Gracie flashed back. “We haven’t pretended to be something we’re not, and we shouldn’t start now. If they want fancy teas and all the rest of it, they can go to New York or Paris!”
New York. Ellen had barely been able to give Elvira’s invitation a thought since she’d spoken to Lucas; he was coming that afternoon to talk about Peter, and on Monday, all things well, she, Rose, Peter and Lucas would all go to Toronto. By the time their next lot of guests left, it would be halfway to August. It was just as well, Ellen thought, that she’d already decided she couldn’t go.
That afternoon, Lucas walked over to Jasper Lane while Peter and Andrew were out in the fields; Gracie had gone visiting and Caro was still at the Wilsons, but Sarah sat in on the conversation around the scrubbed pine kitchen table, the day as dark and cloudy as everyone’s somber mood.
“Dr. Stanton is a good man,” Lucas said as Rose stared at him unhappily and Sarah remained silent, looking troubled. “I knew him in the war. He is very sympathetic to men suffering from shell shock.”
“But do you really feel Peter has that?” Rose asked. “He’s seemed so well lately…”
“I couldn’t say, of course,” Lucas answered. “I’ve barely seen him. But based on what Jed and Ellen have said, I do think it’s a distinct possibility. Dr. Stanton will be able to assess him properly, and offer him the treatment he needs, if he needs it. Surely there’s no harm in going to see?”
“But all the way to Toronto? The train fare is dear and we’d have to spend the night…”
“I’ll take care of all that,” Ellen said firmly, “and I won’t have you arguing with me, Aunt Rose. I would despise myself if I didn’t offer help when I could! You must let me. I really do insist.”
“Very well,” Rose answered after a moment, with a shaky smile. “I can hardly say no, considering the circumstances. If it can help Peter…” She turned to Lucas. “You say you have the appointment already? For Monday?”
“Yes.”
“And it can’t be changed? With guests coming tomorrow, we couldn’t possibly—”
“I can manage the guests while you’re gone,” Sarah interjected. “You’ll be back Tuesday afternoon at the latest, or even Monday evening if you can make the train, so it wouldn’t be for long. They can scribble on their own for a day.”
“I’ll leave them lessons,” Ellen promised. “They’ll be so busy they won’t have a moment’s rest.”
“And Gracie and Andrew will be here to help,” Sarah added. “There’s plenty of us to manage. This is more important, Mum.”
“I know it is.” Rose dabbed her eyes. “It’s just… I’m so afraid.” She gave them all a shamefaced smile. “At my age, after everything I’ve seen and been through, I’m still afraid. For Peter’s sake.”
“I know,” Ellen said softly, and reached for her aunt’s hand. Rose clasped it with a grateful smile.
“Then it’s all settled,” Lucas stated, and Ellen hesitated, her hand still in Rose’s.
“What about Caro? Everything has happened so quickly, and with her being at the Wilsons all this time, we haven’t had a chance to speak with her. She doesn’t even know…”
“Caro will want what is best for Peter,” Rose declared. “I know she resisted the notion of treatment before, but surely she can see there’s no harm in at least having the one appointment.”
“Perhaps not,” Ellen murmured, although personally she had her doubts. “But I think she still needs to know what’s going on.”
“As does Peter,” Lucas reminded them quietly. “You can hardly spring this on him with no warning.”
“I know.” Rose slipped her hand from Ellen’s to clasp her own together tightly. “Who should tell him?”
“I can, if you’d rather. Man to man, from someone who understands what the war was like.” He paused, his inscrutable gaze moving briefly to Ellen. “Or Jed can do it, if you prefer.”
“I don’t know what I prefer,” Rose replied, agitation creasing her forehead. “It’s not something I’ve ever had to think of before. What do you think, Ellen?”
Ellen shook her head slowly. “It’s not my decision to make.”
“But you know I value your advice—”
Ellen glanced at Lucas, who gazed back levelly, giving away nothing. How could she say which of the brothers should talk to Peter? It felt like a loaded choice, one that would mean so much more than it was meant to, something far too personal, even intimate. Or was she imagining the undercurrents she felt from Lucas?
“I really don’t know,” she stated. Lucas looked away, and something in her compelled her to say, “I suppose you, Lucas… since you know the hospital and the doctor. And you’re closer in age to Peter, if by only a little…” She shrugged, spreading her hands helplessly.
“Very well,” Lucas replied. “I’ll speak to him today.”
As soon as t
hey’d finished their discussion, Ellen hitched up the wagon herself to go to the Wilsons. She hadn’t gone there for several days, and Caro hadn’t returned, so she had no idea how Iris was doing, although she hoped she was continuing to improve, as Caro had said she was the last time Ellen had gone.
Now she packed a meat pie and an apple crumble, fresh bread and milk, and a jar of Rose’s lemonade into a wicker basket to take with her.
Although she didn’t know what awaited her at the Wilsons, it felt like a relief to leave Jasper Lane, and all the cares there, for a little while—Peter, and Lucas’s conversation with him, and the guests who would surely prove to be a trial with their needless demands.
As Ellen drove up the rutted track to the Wilsons’ house, Caro flew out of the house, her face pale with alarm.
“Oh Ellen, I’m so glad you’re here! Yesterday, Iris took a turn for the worse. She was doing so well—even talking to the little ones, and saying how she might try to get out of bed on the morrow, and then…” Caro shook her head and Ellen clambered out of the wagon.
“And then what?”
“The fever returned, and she went back into that awful sort of doze. I wanted to fetch you, but I daren’t leave her for a moment, and Lizzie doesn’t know the way.”
“How is she now?” Ellen asked as she came into the house. The three Wilson children were sitting around the table, looking dazed and glassy-eyed. Ellen put the basket on the table with a sorrowful smile for each of them and was heartened to see them brighten a little at the sight of the food.
“The same, just more still. Last night, she was tossing and turning, but now she’s gone into a deeper sleep. Do you think that’s a good thing?” Caro asked anxiously. “Or bad?”
“I couldn’t say, not without looking at her. What about the doctor?”
“They can’t afford—”
“I’ll pay,” Ellen said. What was left of her meager savings would not go very far at this rate, but she didn’t care. She was all too aware of her own limitations—a single year of nurse’s training, and then the years in the war. She wasn’t qualified in the way Caro and so many others seemed to think she was.
