Return to the Island: An utterly gripping historical romance

by Hewitt, Kate

  “I was in New York City, visiting friends.”

  “Oh? I was in New York, for a little while.” Louisa drew her light summer coat around her, one hand clutching at her throat. Now that Ellen was looking at her properly, she saw how thin her old friend had grown, and she noted the lines that ravaged her face, deepening from nose to mouth. Her eyes looked hard. Louisa was twenty-eight, the same age as she was, but she looked older.

  “Louisa, I’m so glad to see you,” Ellen said, and impulsively she put her arms around her.

  Louisa stiffened, and then hesitantly returned the embrace.

  “Are you?” she said with a sniff. “I fear you might be the only one.”

  “Does—does Jed know you’re coming?”

  Louisa shook her head, stepping back from Ellen’s embrace. “No. I wrote ever so many letters, but I couldn’t work up the courage to send even one.” Her mouth tightened, her face taking on an unhappy, pinched look, and Ellen squeezed her hand.

  “Oh, Louisa.”

  “I’m afraid everyone must hate me, for running away,” Louisa admitted, her voice choking. “But the truth is, Ellen, I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “It must have been so very hard.” Looking at her now, seeming so desolate and miserable, Ellen could only feel sympathy for Louisa. “I was so sorry to hear about your little boy, Thomas.”

  “He was such a good boy…” Louisa averted her head, blinking rapidly. “So full of joy, even though his health was always frail. I know it was a while ago now, but it still feels fresh. I suppose it always will.”

  “I imagine it is a grief you will bear your whole life.”

  “Yes.” Louisa’s shoulders straightened and she nodded towards the ferry. “It’s coming now.”

  Neither of them spoke as the tugboat chugged towards the shore under a darkening sky. Ellen’s mind whirled. If Jed didn’t know Louisa was coming… was she hoping to reconcile with him? Would Jed welcome his wayward wife? Her mind spun with the possibilities.

  The silence stretched between them as they boarded the ferry, the only two passengers in the twilight, the air possessing a decidedly autumnal chill. Jonah eyed Louisa speculatively but said nothing, an unusual silence from a man known for speaking his mind. Although it had been hot in New York, Ellen was glad she’d worn her coat now they were further north and coming ever closer to her heart’s home.

  The dark green blur of Amherst Island came steadily closer, and with each passing moment, Ellen saw Louisa become more and more tense, her knuckles white as she clutched her handbag, a leather design that looked far fancier than anything seen on the island. Louisa’s face was pale, her lips bloodless beneath the bright slick of crimson lipstick she was biting off in her anxiety.

  A shaft of sympathy, and even pity, pierced Ellen once more and she reached for Louisa’s hand. “Louisa, I’m glad you’re back. Truly.”

  Louisa’s eyes narrowed speculatively—she’d long ago guessed how Ellen had once been in love with Jed—and then she gave a regal nod. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  Neither of them said anything more until the boat reached the shore.

  No one was waiting at Stella for either of them, although Ellen had sent a letter several days ago with news of her return. She suspected it had yet to reach the island, and so she suggested they walk, leaving their cases at the little office for Andrew to pick up later.

  It wasn’t so far, and she had a sudden hankering to walk all the way back to Jasper Lane, just as she’d done when she’d returned here in June, after the war, a true journey down memory’s lane. Now autumn was in the offing, a chill in the air; the birches were tinged with yellow, the maples with scarlet. The seasons were turning yet again, on and on, inexorable, towards eternity.

  “Walk?” Louisa wrinkled her nose, reminding Ellen of when they’d been children, and Louisa had been accused by more than one islander of putting on airs. “It’s a bit far, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not sure what else we can do. There’s no telephone, after all.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Louisa sighed and wedged her case under the old weathered bench of the ferry office. “Jed can come and collect it, if he’s of a mind to. Perhaps he won’t be. I might be back on that ferry sooner than I can blink.”

  “Don’t you think he’ll be glad to see you?” Ellen asked cautiously as they set down the dirt road that led towards Jasper Lane, with the Lymans’ farm beyond. Tumbled stone walls lined the road, the trees now just blurred shapes in the oncoming darkness. The sky was violet, the night full of shadows. A whippoorwill called once, mournful and insistent.

  “I have no idea.” Louisa lifted her chin and quickened her stride. “We haven’t exchanged so much as a letter since Thomas died. Not a word since we put him in the ground.” Her face crumpled for a second before she smoothed her expression out. “I should have written, I know.”

  “Oh, Louisa.”

  “I know it’s mostly my fault that we are where we are,” Louisa continued flatly. “I know I shouldn’t have left all those years ago, but I couldn’t stand being on this island without Jed. No one ever took to me, you know, and while it might have been partly my fault, it was theirs, as well. I was never good enough for this island, as much as everyone believed I thought they weren’t good enough for me.” She paused, her lips trembling before she pressed them together. “I love Jed, Ellen. I always have. But sometimes I wonder if love is enough.”

  “It can be,” Ellen urged her, “if you choose for it to be, especially when life is hard.”

  “You warned me it would be hard,” Louisa reminded her with a bitter little smile. “You were right. I suppose that makes you happy.”

  “No, of course it doesn’t.” Ellen shook her head, horrified that Louisa would think such a thing, even for a moment. “My heart has broken for the both of you, Louisa—”

  “Has it?” Louisa shot her a darkly suspicious look, even as sorrow swamped her eyes. “I imagine, Ellen, that you might have been tempted to offer Jed some comfort in his loneliness.”

  Ellen’s cheeks burned at such a suggestion, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. It was true, she’d felt a shaft of longing for the man she’d once been in love with, but she’d never crossed the threshold of propriety. She’d made sure of that.

  “I’m sorry,” Louisa said quietly. “That was unkind.”

  “I’ve tried to be a good friend to Jed,” Ellen said with dignity. “For I know he’s needed it.”

  Louisa nodded slowly. “A good friend, yes. That he’s needed. But does he still want a wife? We shall see.”

  “You and Jed have had your fair share of sorrows, Louisa,” Ellen insisted, “but surely things can be different now. If you both want to try?”

  “If he does,” Louisa answered rather grimly.

  By the time they reached Jasper Lane, the lights of the farmhouse flickering in the distance, Ellen was aching with exhaustion and also with relief. The tension of walking side by side with Louisa had become nearly unbearable, and she was more glad than she could have ever said to start up the rutted track, the oak and maple trees arching above, towards the welcome glow of the farmhouse.

  “Come on, Louisa,” she urged as her friend faltered at the gate. “Come and sit down and refresh yourself before you head back to the—back home.”

  After a tiny pause, Louisa nodded, and they both started up the lane, stumbling a bit in the dark, for the only light besides those from the farmhouse came from a high, thin sliver of moon as it slid out from under a bank of cloud.

  “Hello?” Ellen called as she opened the front door. The hallway was empty, and she heard the murmur of voices from the kitchen, suddenly muted, and then the clatter and scrape of chairs being pushed back.

  “Ellen!” Rose came around the corner, her mouth upturned into a wide, disbelieving smile. “You’re back! You didn’t even send a telegram or a letter!”

  “I did send a letter, but it must not have arrived. I was in suc
h a hurry to get home—”

  Rose’s eyes widened as she caught sight of Louisa, standing behind Ellen as if she was of half a mind to bolt back out the door. “Louisa. Oh, my child, you’ve finally come home.”

  Rose put her arms around the pair of them, and Ellen breathed in the warm, comforting, motherly smell of her with a pang of love and longing. She was so glad to be there that the tears she’d been holding back for so long finally fell, and when she turned to look at Louisa, she saw her friend was weeping as well. They were home, indeed. At last.

  The next morning, drinking coffee on the front porch with Rose, Ellen felt almost entirely happy, even though her future remained just as—if not more—uncertain. Somehow she could live with that uncertainty, settled in herself in a way she hadn’t been in a long time.

  Last night, Andrew had hitched the horses to the wagon and driven Louisa to the Lyman farm; Ellen had no idea what her reception had been, but she hoped Jed had welcomed her.

  Now, a cat in her lap and a cup of coffee cradled between her hands, she listened as Rose filled her in on all the island gossip.

  “The Hammonds have had another baby—that’s seven, would you believe! A lot of mouths to feed in these times, but it’s a bonny little boy. And, of course, all the tongues are wagging about Caro and Jack Wilson! But the gossips will shut their mouths soon enough, I warrant. Caro is determined, and you know what she’s like when she gets an idea into her head.”

  “I do,” Ellen answered with a smile. Rose had told her last night that Caro was living at the Wilson homestead with the three children, while Jack boarded at a house in Stella until the wedding in just two weeks’ time. “Do you think she’ll be happy, Aunt Rose?”

  “I do,” Rose said after a moment. “She’s always wanted a family of her own, and Caro needs people to need her. Besides,” she added, her voice quiet, “Jack Wilson is a good and decent man. He’s had a hard time of it, on account of his injury, but if people can look past it, they’ll see a fine man indeed.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “So much is changing,” Rose said with a sigh. Her gaze grew distant as she looked down the lane, almost as if waiting for someone to walk down its familiar path. “Gracie is off to Queen’s in just a few weeks, and Sarah already back to teaching. And as for Andrew…”

  “What about Andrew?” Andrew was just shy of seventeen and had never had much of a hankering for education. He’d always seemed happiest on the farm.

  “You’d never believe it, but he’s talking about finding work out west, in Alberta. Maybe even settling there on his own homestead, when he’s earned enough.”

  “What!” Ellen stared at her aunt in shock. “He isn’t, surely…?”

  Rose shrugged her shoulders. “Why shouldn’t he? Andrew’s waited out the war, too young to do anything but watch, and now he wants to find his own way, his own adventure. Besides, there’s more opportunity out west for a young man like him. I can’t blame him.”

  “But you need his help here on the farm.”

  Rose didn’t reply and Ellen felt a tightness start in her chest.

  “Aunt Rose…”

  “I didn’t want to tell you like this, Ellen, but I’m planning on selling Jasper Lane. I had an offer from the Glenns on the other side of the island…” Ellen knew of them, one of the island’s more prosperous families, with a large holding of their own. “They’re expanding and Arthur’s son, Alexander, wants his own place. They’ve always liked the view here at Jasper Lane.”

  Ellen opened her mouth but found she had no words. Somehow she felt completely shocked and utterly unsurprised at the same time.

  Aunt Rose sniffed and sighed. “I wish it could be otherwise, Ellen, but the truth is, I can’t manage this place on my own, and I can’t tie Andrew or anyone else to it. I thought Caro and Jack might want it, but Jack wants to make a go of his brother’s place, and he’s too proud to accept what he thinks amounts to charity. As for Peter…” Another shuddery sigh. “He’s made so much progress, but in his last letter he’s said he hopes to find office work in Toronto, and that will be better for him, I think, to be surrounded by people, with help from the doctors when he needs it. The world is moving on, in so many ways.”

  “But…” Ellen didn’t even know what or how to protest. It was just that she simply couldn’t imagine life without Jasper Lane. Even when she’d been far away, whether in Scotland, Vermont, or France, she’d known the farmhouse was here waiting for her, her family with open arms. It was why she’d come back from New York. Wasn’t it?

  Rose touched her arm lightly. “I know you wanted to make a go of the holidaymaking idea, and for a little while I thought we could. But it will never be quite enough, will it, Ellen? And the truth is, I don’t want to tie you here, either.”

  “You wouldn’t be—”

  “Elvira Frampton wrote me about the offer of a teaching position in New York,” Rose said gently and Ellen couldn’t keep from letting out a little cry of surprised distress.

  “Is that why—”

  “No, of course not. But it made me see how selfish I’ve been, wanting you here. We all need to come home, Ellen, especially when we’ve been battered by life’s stormy seas. But we all need to leave that home at some point too, and stretch our fragile wings again. I think it’s time for you to do that.”

  Ellen blinked rapidly, not wanting to surrender to the threat of tears yet again. “But where will you go, Aunt Rose?”

  “I’m going to settle in Hamilton. There will be enough from the sale of the farmhouse to buy a little place, and Dyle has a cousin there. I haven’t seen her in decades, it’s true, but she’s still family. Besides, it’s near enough Toronto that I can visit Peter. There should be room for Sarah and Gracie, as well, when they’re of a mind to visit. And you too, Ellen, of course.”

  Ellen nodded, although she could hardly imagine it. Everything truly was changing.

  “Will you take the position in New York?” Rose asked.

  “I—I don’t know. When I left New York, I didn’t think I was going to. I wanted to come home. I thought I’d be able to make up my mind better here.”

  “And have you?”

  Ellen shook her head. She still had so much to think about, to decide, to risk. Her mind and heart were both spinning. “I’m just not sure,” she said. “But I understand that this is the right thing for you to do, Aunt Rose. Of course I do. I’ll miss Jasper Lane, so much, but I understand why you feel you must sell it. Truly.”

  Rose smiled, tears sparkling in her eyes as she reached for Ellen’s hand. “You’re a good lass, Ellen Copley.”

  Yet the ache of loss remained fresh as Ellen walked over to the Lymans’ farm three days later. Autumn was truly on the wing, the copse between the properties a blaze of russet and gold.

  Yesterday, Ellen had visited Caro and seen her with her fiancé and newfound family, and any fears she’d had that Caro might be rushing headlong into something unwise had been put firmly to rest. She’d never seen her cousin so happy, and Jack positively beamed, a man hardly able to believe the kindness Providence had shown him. They already had plans to expand the Wilson homestead, and Caro couldn’t wait to spruce up the little farmhouse. The children, too, seemed livelier and more settled, although Ellen knew they still had to miss their mother. Even so, the family that had been created from disparate and jumbled pieces looked to be a happy one.

  “Mum has given me two of her quilts, and Andrew offered to paint the kitchen. Goodness knows it needs it! I’m going to dig up the garden, as well, so next summer we’ll have a full vegetable patch.” Impulsively, Caro had clasped Ellen’s hand. “I’m so happy, Ellen, happier than I ever dared to dream I’d be.”

  “I’m so glad,” Ellen said, meaning it. There was no twinge of envy for Caro being settled in life while she was not; her cousin had worked too hard and fought too fiercely for those she loved for Ellen not to be truly happy on her account.

  Now, as she walked up to
the farmhouse, Ellen wondered what reception she would get at the Lymans’—and what reception Louisa had received from her husband upon her return. She’d been giving them space these last few days, but she hoped, for both their sakes, that they had had a joyful reunion.

  The answer was clear enough as she came into the farmyard and saw Louisa standing on the front porch, one hand shading her eyes as she looked to see who her visitor was. A moment later, Jed joined her, and slipped his good arm around his wife’s waist, the gesture awkward yet heartfelt. Ellen’s heart seemed to lift with joy and twist with an old sorrow at the same time.

  She smiled and called out her greeting.

  “It’s good to see you, Ellen,” Louisa said, and Jed gave her one of his old, teasing smiles.

  “Back from the big city, it seems, and with no fancy airs?”

  “None that I can see.” Ellen laughed, and that flash of longing flickered away to nothing as she saw how happy her two friends were. The feelings that had been tangled up inside suddenly unknotted, as easily as a string. Her feelings for Jed, Ellen realized, had been nothing but the ghostly remnants of something long in the past. “It’s good to see you both,” she said meaningfully.

  Louisa blushed and Jed nodded. “We had a lot to talk about these last few days, but I think it’s finally settled.”

  “Settled…?”

  Jed straightened, his expression turning resolute. “We’re leaving the island. Farming’s not the best work for me anymore,” he explained with a nod to the empty sleeve pinned to his shoulder, “and Louisa’s father has a job for me in the bank in Seaton. I aim to take it, and we’ll settle outside the town, so we’ll still have a little bit of land.”

  “I’m going to garden,” Louisa said with a self-conscious smile. “Do you know, I missed it, when I went back to Seaton?”

  “You’re going to work in the bank…” Ellen repeated dazedly. For the second time that day, she was stunned. “But…”