Winter Shadows

by Margaret Buffie

  She covered her face with her hands. “How can you speak to me this way? You know I love you, Gordon. You know I do.”

  His face softened. “Yes, I know you do, my dear. “

  She left the room quietly, head down.

  Had I heard right? Ivy actually loved my father? And though he didn’t reply in kind, his anger had left as quickly as it came.

  “Papa, I don’t understand,” I said.

  He lowered himself onto the leather chair beside his desk. “I don’t expect you to, Beatrice. Sit down.” He looked out the window into the snow-glazed afternoon light, which glanced off the smooth planes of his face.

  “Ivy told me all about her life shortly after we buried Farmer Comper. She came to St. Cuthbert’s after meeting him at a friend’s house in Scotland. His country marriage had ended with the death of his Cree wife. Ivy was a widow and had been housekeeper to a bishop, who’d recently died. She was living with friends who could no longer keep her. Duncan had lived away from her for years with her aunt. She was destitute. Comper was looking for a wife. She really had no choice but to accept him.”

  “Why was she so poor? Couldn’t she, too, have lived with her aunt?”

  He shook his head. “Ivy came from a family of modest merchants in Edinburgh. She was engaged to marry the oldest son of a rich merchant. A feather in the family’s cap – a dull man, she said, but one who could offer her lifelong security. But then she fell in love with his younger brother. They eloped. Both families disowned them.”

  “I can’t imagine Ivy running away with a lover. “

  “I have a daguerreotype of her.” He opened a drawer and handed me a yellowing picture of a girl my age. She was thin, with soft eyes and a hopeful smile.

  “You see. She was rather pretty. She fell with child almost immediately, only to find that her young husband’s financial support had been taken away, not only because of her, but because of his enormous debts. She soon realized he was an addicted gambler when intoxicated and a repentant wretch when sober. They traveled around the country, Ivy taking on any work she could find and her husband gambling away what little they had, until he died a drawn-out painful death. She was left destitute. Fortunately, she was able to take on the housekeeper’s position at the bishopric when Duncan was five. He was sent to his great-aunt’s, with the agreement that Ivy would ask for nothing and give up all maternal rights.”

  “How sad. For both her and for her son,” I murmured. No wonder the two were so awkward with each other.

  “The aunt ran a private school in the country. She was everything Ivy was not. One of the new intellectual women – a freethinker, as Kilgour calls them – interested in science and nature and in using one’s reason to decide what the world offers, rather than accepting old ideas. She was also possibly a deist – a believer in a divine being, but not in the authority of organized churches. The aunt taught Duncan art, music, and books. Ivy feels he has been terribly corrupted. But from what I know of the fellow, I believe he is open-minded and one who tries to see both sides of an issue. In any case, when his great-aunt died, she left everything to him. He used it to travel the world, having no idea where his mother was by then.

  “Soon after Comper died, Duncan returned to Scotland. Fortunately, Ivy had kept in touch with old friends, and that’s how he discovered where she was – here in Rupert’s Land. He came all this way to find her. “

  “When she first came to Farmer Comper’s farm, there were children to look after, weren’t there?” I asked. “Minty and his older brother.”

  “The older boy died just after Ivy and Comper married. That left only Minty.”

  “Papa, when Minty and Ivy are together, she either ignores him or issues orders. It’s as if they hardly know each other. He must have been a wee boy when she came here. Doesn’t she care for him at all?”

  “I asked her about that. She sent Minty to live with his mother’s family at the Indian town, St. Anthony’s, soon after his brother died. When Josiah Comper died, she brought Minty back to help with the farm. She told me he is not her son, so she feels little affection for him. Despite all this, Minty’s a good lad.”

  “Why did you marry her, Papa?”

  He smiled. “She started out as my housekeeper. I was lonely; she was company. One day, she told me about her hard life and her bitter marriage to Comper. When I first suggested that we wed, she refused. But when I pressed her, she admitted she was ashamed of her two previous marriages. I felt sorry for her, Bea. I also liked her – she was different before we married.”

  “She was in love,” I said.

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps I was the first man in her life to be kind. Her father was a tyrant, her first husband a wastrel, and Comper a silent, harsh man. I could see, soon after we wed, that she was hoarding food. I tried to understand why and let it go at that. She and I were quietly content until my accident, and then –”

  “And then I returned home and sparked fierce jealousy. But it’s more than that, Papa. When I got back, nôhkom’s body was covered in open sores! She had been dreadfully neglected.”

  He pressed fingertips to his temples. “I know this now. I truly thought my mama was simply growing old. I saw her as often as I could manage, and not once did she ever complain to me. But then, I was injured,” he gave me a rueful smile, “and wallowing in self-pity. I trusted Ivy to care for my mother. God forgive me.”

  “I won’t leave you or nôhkom to this woman. I’ll tell Robert I can’t marry him.”

  Papa covered my hands with his. “No. You must make a life for yourself, child. I am getting stronger every day. I’ll make sure my mother is cared for. She won’t suffer again. Duncan has already offered to hire a nurse to take the burden off you.”

  “He did? When?”

  “Just a few days ago. I meant to tell you. He also arranged to have a new doctor from the settlement come and see me. He believes I could benefit from his opinion.”

  “What will you do about Ivy?”

  “I offered Ivy a home with a healthy husband and a good yearly income. She found herself with a crippled man who was suddenly unable to work. To be fair, she has rarely complained. Yes, she is possessive and neurotic. She’s as crippled as I am, but in a different way. I was too sick to fight her when she tried to keep me from my work on behalf of the local farmers. I will insist my friends visit me again. If marrying young Dalhousie is what you truly wish in your heart, then you must marry him. But tell me one thing, my dear.”

  I answered before he spoke it, “I do not love Robert, Papa. Not yet.”

  “Do you think you could love him, lass?”

  “He is a rather distant man, Papa, but good. We will get along fine, I think.”

  “Is it only me and kôhkom you’re worried about?” he asked.

  “Who else would there be?”

  He smiled. “I will give Dalhousie my permission, but think carefully on it first, my dear. I would hate to see you burdened by a loveless marriage. It’s painful to lose someone you love, yet I thank God every day for those years with my Anne. Ivy has never known that kind of love – where you breathe easier knowing your cherished one is in the next room.” He shook his head. “I’ll miss you, but I want you to be happy.”

  I hugged him. “Nôhkom will advise me.”

  He shook his head. “Make this decision on your own, child. Then tell her. Do not burden her unnecessarily. You may change your mind for other reasons.”

  I left the room, wondering what he meant by not burdening nôhkom unnecessarily. Except for my worries about her and Papa, what could possibly make me change my mind? His words about my mother have gladdened my heart. I am thankful they found years of true affection together. Will Robert Dalhousie and I ever love the way my parents once loved?

  30

  CASS

  The sun was sinking in a dark blue sky when we got back to Aunt Blair’s. As soon as we parked, Daisy leaped out and ran in the front door. We were just in time to see the look on Blair
’s face when Daisy cried, “So, whaddya think? It’s Cass’s Christmas present to me – and Jonathan’s too!”

  She danced around the kitchen. Her hair swung easily, smooth and shiny, cut just below her ears, curving higher at the back. Soft bangs covered her wide forehead. The glasses we chose together were rimless, with cherry red arms.

  Blair stumbled out, “Wow. Gorgeous, Daisy! Cass? Was this okayed by her mom?”

  “No. But the kid really needed it. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’ as Jean would say!”

  “I figure a pound of something will hit the fan when she goes home,” Blair said.

  Daisy laughed, put her arm up around my shoulders, and posed, one hip out. “It’s two against one. But we’ll win. Because Mom can’t take this present back to the store!”

  Martin said brightly, “All we need right now is for your dad to show up.”

  The doorbell rang. “Are you psychic, Martin?” Aunt Blair walked calmly to answer it.

  We could hear Dad’s voice. Daisy made a dash for the kitchen door, but I grabbed her. “Let me tell him first. He’ll go nuts.”

  She grinned up at me. “I think seeing me will make him happy. He agreed to this, right?”

  I let her go, took a deep breath, and followed, passing Blair coming back to the kitchen. All she said was “Oh, boy …”

  When I got to the living room, Daisy’s arms were wrapped around Dad’s waist. “Oh, thank you, Jonathan! I know it’s not Christmas yet, but Cass said I should have it done today. It’s the best Christmas present ever, in my whole entire life!”

  He held her at arm’s length. She gazed up at him, her face flushed with joy. He pulled her close again and glared at me over her head. “I’m glad you love it, Daisy. You look really wonderful. Would you mind going to the kitchen with the others? I’d like to talk to Cass, okay?”

  “Sure!” She sashayed out of the room, touching her hair carefully all over.

  “Sit. Down.” I sat. “What the devil are you playing at? Why would you do something as important as this without consulting the child’s mother?”

  “Because the child’s mother isn’t seeing her. Daisy’s going to be thirteen soon. Kids are making fun of her, Dad. Jean just sees you. Soon it will be all about the new baby. I thought the two of them were working together against me, but I realize Daisy has been trying to get Jean’s attention all this time.”

  “You worked that out on your own, did you, Doctor Shrink? You can wipe that smile off your face. You are coming back with me, and you are going to explain to Jean why you did this.”

  “Okay. I wouldn’t leave Daisy to take the heat alone.”

  “Your heat, Cass.” He stared me down, but I didn’t blink.

  Blair and Martin were trying to keep a conversation going in the next room, but now and again I could hear a pine needle drop.

  “I just don’t understand what has come over you, Cass,” Dad finally said. “I know you miss your mom. I know Jean is not a substitute. But your mom would have –”

  “She had a name, Dad. It was Fiona. And she was your wife. Not just my mom.”

  “Do you really think it doesn’t hurt me to say her name? Do you think I avoid saying it because of Jean? Do you have any idea how much I miss your … Fiona? But she is gone, Cass.…” The skin under his eyes looked bruised.

  “And now you have a new life and a new baby coming. Does it matter what I do?”

  “Are you still depressed, Cass? Is that it? Do you need to go back on the meds the doctor gave you after your – Fiona – died? I know your grades haven’t fallen yet, but –”

  “You think I’m acting out because of depression? Isn’t that what Jean calls it, Dad? Acting out? You think this thing with Daisy is some kind of payback on Jean?”

  “Isn’t it? Jean’s been finding you, everything, so difficult.”

  “It’s all Jean, Jean, Jean. Have you listened to Jean, Dad? She speaks at me, as if I’m a stranger – no, a roomful of strangers. She announces things to me. She proposes things to me. She throws clichés at me. She never talks to me. She didn’t want one thing from our old life in our own living room. And that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s her home. I don’t belong there.”

  “You belong where I am, Cass. I know Jean can be awkward at times, but she’s shy in many ways.”

  I laughed. “Shy? You’re kidding, right? A shy person who announces to a roomful of people at the same time she tells her clued-out stepdaughter – who didn’t even get a say in choosing a Christmas tree, by the way – that she is expecting your baby?”

  He could hardly drag out his next words. “She didn’t tell me about the baby until just before the party. She took a home test while I was out. She’d been suspicious for a while, but … She would have told you if you were home on time. As for putting up the tree – well, isn’t that just a little trite considering a baby is on the way, a baby that will be your half-sibling? I want you to be happy for us.”

  “First off, Jean lied about the test,” I said. “She told Daisy about it the day before yesterday. Daisy said she knew a huge secret. I bet Jean’s known for ages.”

  His eyes widened. He knew I was telling the truth.

  “How can I be happy for you, Dad? You’re married to a person who talks to me like I’m your distant relative visiting her home and she’s waiting for me to leave. And where do you fit in her house, Dad? She told Daisy about the baby before she told you! Where’s your favorite chair Mom bought you? In the old barn, right?”

  “And so to get even for all of this, you took that twelve-year-old out and bought her an expensive pair of glasses and a haircut on my credit card, so that she is almost unrecognizable. I’m surprised you didn’t get her a nose ring or a tongue stud.”

  “You didn’t look very closely at her, did you, Dad?”

  “You didn’t!”

  I shouted, “Of course I didn’t! Who do you think I am? Jean’s version of a head case who would put a ring in a twelve-year-old’s nose?”

  A small voice came from the kitchen door. “You and Cass didn’t plan this, did you, Jonathan? I thought it was your idea to give me a makeover.”

  I would have laughed at Daisy calling it a makeover, but her look of sad awareness wasn’t the least bit funny.

  31

  BEATRICE

  Just before I left for choir practice, I opened my journal to make a short entry and found scribbled words on the last page that were not mine. My spirit girl wrote them! Her name is Cass. She told me to think hard about marrying Robert Dalhousie. And to be strong. Just as nôhkom’s spirit told her to be strong. Then she printed in bold letters What about Duncan? What on this earth did she mean by that?

  I closed the diary and stared out the window. How could she write in my diary without nôhkom seeing her? I knew everyone in our village. Cass didn’t live in St. Cuthbert’s. She was a figment of my imagination. Why would she tell me to wait? Did I, in fact, at some point put the wide-looped handwriting on the page myself – under some mad delusion I was a girl called Cass? I hid the diary immediately.

  Little did I realize that I would see her again so soon.

  As I pulled on my second-best wool dress to wear to church, frost glistened in the corners of the bedchamber. I added more wood to Grandmother’s small hearth and left her dozing in its warmth.

  It was bitterly cold outside, and the hard snow crunched under Tupper’s hooves. The harness bells clacked with cold. He wore a heavy blanket, and another one lay in the carriole to cover him when we arrived. The church bell bonged deeply over the farms, calling the choir to practice. Despite the cold, my hands were damp in their fur-lined pouches. I was uncertain how to greet Robert. Would Duncan Kilgour make things worse by saying something tactless or spiteful? I decided I would act as if nothing was agreed between Robert and me. And I would ignore Kilgour.

  Earlier at dinner, Papa, Ivy, and I had eaten my fish-and-potato dish with little appetite. Ivy sat rigid at the table, throwing pleading lo
oks at Papa, who spoke to the girls and me, but not to her. The girls had great helpings. I was pleased to see Dilly blooming under her friendship with the Three Graces.

  Note to myself: You must tutor both Dilly and Minty after Christmas, right up until you leave, and then ask Miss Cameron to take Dilly into the school a few days a week.

  If Robert followed through with his plans, we could be gone by spring. That thought set up a heavy banging in my chest, and I could not eat another mouthful.

  I knew Duncan Kilgour was angry with his mother over the upset, but as he didn’t care two pins for me or my feelings, why would he miss his fish dinner this evening? I recalled the contraction in his eyes when I told him about my impending engagement. Did he think I was doing the wrong thing, leaving nôhkom and Papa? Did he dislike Robert that much?

  Then it came to me. Of course! Henrietta would be leaving with Robert and me! Duncan had probably run off to do his own proposing before she could get away. But she had to be five years older than him at least!

  A shadow drew one wing across my vision, but I swept it away. What did it matter what Duncan Kilgour said or did? He didn’t see me as anything but a silly young woman, easy to make fun of.

  The Three Graces were already at the church, having traveled with Minty in the sledge to visit with their schoolmates before practice began. As I hitched Tupper to a post in the church’s open stable, the moon’s light sheared off the rolling sheets of snow, throwing itself back into the air with a luminous glow.

  When I opened the church door, a breath of tepid warmth fluttered over me. The sexton can never be convinced to use enough wood to make the small church truly comfortable. I could hear voices in the nave.

  The door swung open behind me, and Robert Dalhousie entered, his fur hat low on his forehead. “Good evening, Miss Alexander.”

  He could have been addressing one of the choir members. I nodded back, suddenly irritated. Someone pushed through the door behind him. Duncan Kilgour beamed at me. Had he proposed to Henrietta? Had she said yes? I gave him a cold glare.