by Nancy M Bell
She ducked her head. “I made them myself. It would please me if you would wear them.”
“In that case, how can I refuse,” he replied gallantly and pulled the mitts over his reddened hands.
“Oh, I can see the lights of the house. We’re almost home. You must come in and get warm,” Annie insisted. The cows broke into a shambling trot at the scent of home and scrambled back over the drift and broken fence into the barn yard.
George halted and caught her hands again. “I mustn’t. Mister Miller was expecting me back some time ago. I still have chores to do there.”
She tipped her head back to see his face better in the strengthening moonlight. “You won’t be in any trouble will you? For being late, I mean?”
“I would for sure, except your father was kind enough to write me a note explaining he asked me to go and look for his lost cows. No, that should set things right.” He paused and leaned down to brush her cheek with his. “You go on in the house, I’ll lock the cows in the barn and throw them some hay. I have permission to borrow a lantern for the walk home. Go on.” George released her hands and gave her a gentle push. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“You will be careful? And be sure to take a full lantern.”
He nodded and moved toward the barn.
“Good night then, George,” she called softly.
“Good night, Annie.” His voice floated back to her through the moonlit shadows.
* * *
With one thing and another, the next time Annie had a chance to speak to George was at Christmastime. Father held a huge prayer meeting on Christmas Eve and everyone who was able was expected to attend. Annie made herself scarce and slipped into the back of the room once everyone had taken their seats. She found a place with the people standing along the wall at the back. Mother would complain Annie was just being contrary by not sitting with the family and the other social elite of the county. She sniffed at the notion and grinned. The corners of the room were cast in shadows though Mother had candles set everywhere along with the lamps and the ornate cranberry glass chandelier which had made the journey from Ireland with her parents. Annie hated the thing, although she had to admit it was beautiful all lit up. It was an absolute pain to keep clean and dusted and that chore fell on her shoulders. So even though she could admire the rosy glow, tomorrow evening would be spent cleaning the soot from the glass, polishing the fittings and filling the reservoir with new lamp oil.
She felt George’s presence behind her before his hand touched her shoulder. Keeping her expression neutral and not looking, she took a half a step back so she fit against his side. When his arm slipped around her waist she covered his hand with hers. In the shadows she was sure no one could notice.
“Happy Christmas.” His breath tickled her ear and stirred the tendrils of hair at her temple.
“Happy Christmas, George.” Her fingers tightened on his. It seemed somehow sacrilegious to experience the feelings racing through her body while Father preached abstinence and fire and brimstone. Somehow the man could even make a joyous occasion like Christmas bleak and full of sin. Annie allowed herself to press a little closer to George’s side and hide a giggle at his reaction. God forbid she be caught smiling at meeting.
“You shouldn’t do that,” George whispered even while he drew her closer, his thigh pressing against the back of her legs.
In answer she rested the back of her head against him. “Why ever not?” she teased boldly though it felt like she was playing with a fire she didn’t quite understand the volatility of.
“We need to talk later. Alone.” He pulled away from her though his hands lingered on her waist for a moment longer.
Annie glanced at him feeling lost and bereft without the warmth of his nearness. Darn it, now she’d gone and ruined everything. She hadn’t done anything more, and considerable less, than those girls in the dime store novels she had hidden under her mattress. Reaching blindly in the shadows she sought his hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please don’t be angry with me.”
Work roughened fingers closed over hers for a brief second before he released her. “Later,” he repeated and moved further away from her.
Humiliated and angry, Annie sniffed deeply through her nose like Mother did when she was deeply vexed about something. Well, if that was the way of it, then fine. Served her right for throwing herself at his head like that. He must think I’m a light skirt. No well brought up young lady acts like that. Haven’t I heard that often enough? What was it Evan and Steve used to say about that girl in town? Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free, that’s it. I never understood what milking a cow had to do with anything, but I think maybe I’m beginning to see what they were talking about. Dear God! How humiliating to be talked about like that. I wonder if she knows. Oh of course she must. Maybe she doesn’t care? But I do! I’ll just find George Richardson later and set him straight.
Clenching her fists in the folds of her dress Annie turned her attention to Father’s sermon, glad the dim light hid the angry spots burning on her cheeks.
Once the preaching part of the meeting was done with Annie was kept busy with making sure the refreshment table was well stocked and the punch bowl never ran dry. Mother had hired a couple of the girls from town to help out and even now one of them was plucking the big tom turkey in preparation for tomorrow’s supper. It was a chore Annie didn’t envy her in the least. It was well past eleven-thirty by the time she had a minute to herself. There was a brief lull and she plunked down on the top step by the landing, hoping she was far enough out of the lamp light that no one would notice her. Her feet hurt in the high button boots and she wished she could just take them off and pad around in stocking feet. No chance of that though. Leaning her head against the railing she closed her eyes and let the tinkling of Mother’s fingers on the piano in the parlour wash over her. Some were singing carols, and one or two people were hopelessly off key. It shouldn’t matter though, should it? It was Christmastime and people were supposed to be kind and generous.
“Found you. I wondered where you’d gone off to.” A waft of air warned her of his presence before George perched on the stair beside her.
“What did I do to make you angry?” Annie opened her eyes and looked over at him, her earlier anger forgotten.
“I’m not angry with you, Annabelle. Indeed, quite the opposite.” He trailed a finger down the curve of her cheek.
“Oh.” She sat up straight and caught his hand in hers, twining her fingers around his. “Then why did you act like you were. And why are you calling me Annabelle?” Bewilderment made her frown and produced an uneasy sensation in her stomach.
“Because what I need to talk to you about is important to me so it seemed like I should use your given name.” His hand tightened and he moved a hair closer so his thigh touched her.
“Whatever could be so important? You’re scaring me, George.”
“Oh, no. No reason to be afraid, I promise you.” He paused and swallowed hard.
Annie leaned closer, catching the sweet scent of punch on his breath, along with something else. “Have you been drinking?” She narrowed her eyes. “Who brought drink into this house?”
“Some of the boys have something in the woodshed, and I only had one swallow. For courage…and luck…” His voice trailed off.
“Why should you need courage, or luck for that matter?” Annie was totally confused now. “Did something happen to Peter? Did you hear from overseas?”
George shook his head. “Annie, surely you know how I feel about you?”
“I think so,” she answered slowly.
“I’m hoping you feel the same about me…I mean you seem to…like being around me…and we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Exactly what do you mean…feel the same about you? I’m not sure how you feel about me…it’s not like we’ve ever talked…about…about our feelings…” She trailed off while his hands tightened on hers.
“That’s what
I’m trying to do right now, but you’re not helping me much.”
Annie huffed a breath and regarded him seriously for a long moment. “Right then. Why don’t you start by telling me how you feel about me? Then I can tell you if I feel something similar. How’s that for a start?”
George swallowed loudly and closed his eyes for a second. “It’s a place to start,” he sounded unsure.
“Go on, then,” she encouraged him controlling a surge of impatience.
“This is hard, Annie. Harder than I thought it would be. You must have guessed how I feel about you. We’ve been friends for years, but this is more…don’t you think so too?” His expression was tense and earnest and his vulnerability wrung her heart.
“More than what?” Annie whispered. “Are you saying you’d like to be more than friends? Like walking out together?” She held her breath, sure George could hear the thunder of her heart, feel the excitement in the pulse throbbing in her fingers.
“Would you be agreeable to that?” His hands clenched on her fingers.
“I think I would like that very much.” Annie nodded in agreement. “Very much.”
“Really?” George drew back to see her face better. “You’re sure? What will your parents think…I know I have nothing to offer you at the moment, but I have a plan.”
“I’m eighteen now, so although Mother and Father will likely not be thrilled I haven’t chosen one of the suitors they deem acceptable, they’re terrified I’ll die an old maid,” she declared.
“But they can make things hard for you, you’re still living under their roof. It might be better to keep our understanding a secret for now. At least until I have the means to support you and a roof to put over your head.”
Annie considered his words for a long moment. He’s most likely correct about Mother and Father pitching a fit, and I do have to live with them. Oh, why couldn’t I have gone to Trenton with Rotha to work for the British Chemical Company in the munitions factory? Her letters were peppered with exciting words like TNT and cordite that Annie had to look up in Father’s dictionary. However, she lived with a bunch of girls from the factory and seemed to have lots of fun even with the long hours she worked. Father was concerned, Annie remembered, because Rotha mentioned her skin was turning a pale yellow, but she wasn’t worried because girls who had been there far longer than her were a brighter yellow and doing just fine. Father muttered to Mother about liver damage and toxicity, but he hadn’t followed through on his threat to go and collect her. Thinking of Rotha brought up thoughts of Alice who, if her letters were any indication, was thoroughly enjoying her post in County Dromore, Ireland
“Annie? What are you thinking? You’re a million miles away,” George interrupted her thoughts.
“Sorry, yes.” She pushed Rotha and Alice to the back of her mind. “It would be easier to keep this between us, at least until we’re in a position to do something about it. You mentioned a plan, what is it?” Annie moved closer to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. His arm came up around her and she sighed with pure happiness.
Resting his cheek on her hair George began to lay out his plan. “I’ve convinced Mister Miller to release me from my promise—”
“That’s wonderful!” Annie straightened up to smile at him.
“There’s a catch, but not one I’m in disagreement with.”
“What catch?” This couldn’t be good.
George took a deep breath and then plunged on. “I’m enlisting in the army. I leave first thing in the new year. I’ve already talked to the recruitment office and Mister Wilcock says they’ll be glad to have me.”
“You’re enlisting?” Annie felt faint, a weird buzzing rang in her ears. “But here, in the reserve. You’re not going overseas, right?” This could not be happening, not on the happiest day of her life.
“No, I’m volunteering for active duty. I’ll be part of the Canadian Infantry, the Eastern Ontario Regiment. I’ve already signed up actually.” He paused and looked a bit sheepish. “I should have said that right up front and not beat around the bush like I did. I passed the medical so I’m just waiting for the call up. I’m a private in the 21st Battalion, Canadian Over-seas Expeditionary Force,” he finished proudly.
“Oh George!” Annie buried her face in her hands to hide her fears.
Gentle hands took her shoulders and pulled her against his hard chest. His arm went around her and one hand stroked her hair. “I’ll have a regular pay packet, Annie. A way to save money for our future. I don’t have any other prospects and to tell the truth I feel like a heel staying here at home when fellows are over there fighting the Huns. For God’s sake, my little brother is over there in France.”
Annie forced herself to calm her expression and sat up a bit but kept close to his side, head on his shoulder. “Have you heard from Peter? He’s safe isn’t he?” She was proud her voice didn’t shake.
The chest under her hand heaved with a deep sigh. “Last letter I got was from a convalescent hospital. He came down with a bad case of the influenza, just like one of your brothers. From what I could decipher around the censor’s black-outs a lot of the lads are down with it. The letter took ages to reach me so he must be back with his unit by now. He said he got a Good Conduct Badge for something he did in one of the skirmishes. Oh, and he thinks he’s going to get attached to the Canadian Railway Troops as a sapper. That’ll mean an increase in pay for him.”
“I’m glad he’s better, but not that he’ll have to go back to the front. I’m sure it’s not as glorious as the newspapers make it out to be. Father says it must be cold and wet and muddy from what he knows of the weather in France.”
“He’s probably not far off the mark, but the censors black out any reference to stuff like that, and any mention of where they are or where they might be headed. I’m surprised they let the bit about Pete joining the Railway Troops through.”
“What’s a sapper, by the way? I don’t imagine it has anything to do with trees and maple syrup.” Annie was glad to see she made George smile.
“No, nothing to do with maple trees. Although he’d be a sight safer if it was.” George’s face clouded with worry again.
“Peter’s a smart lad, he can take care of himself,” Annie comforted him. “But what does he do?”
“Pete said he had to complete the Engineer DP1 training—”
“So, he’s an engineer now? Isn’t that something! What does DP1 stand for?”
“It’s training he had to complete in order to become a sapper.”
“Do you know what a sapper does?” Annie was filled with a sense of pride for the serious youth she had known before he went off over-seas.
“Not exactly, but he does a lot of technical things now. I’m right proud of my little brother. He helps build bridges, does some combat driving, tactical breaching of enemy targets, getting rid of explosive ordnance and they go ahead of the troops and make things ready for them to advance. Setting up living quarters and preparing roads and rail lines for the troops to advance.”
“But, isn’t that more dangerous than actually fighting in the trenches? You mean they actually go ahead of the army toward the Germans with no back up support?” Her stomach was in knots again.
“From what I understand that’s the gist of it. Pete seems to love the building and he says he’s learning all sorts of useful things. He doesn’t say anything about it being dangerous, but I bet he’s scared lots of the time.”
“You’re…you’re not going to get involved with that are you? Be a sapper, I mean?” Annie shivered in spite of herself.
“I might, if I get the chance. If I could get in the same company as Pete I could keep an eye on him. See to it he stays safe.” His eyes took on a cold steely look in the dim light of the landing.
“Just see that you stay safe and come back to me.” Annie pressed against him and was surprised to feel his body tremble.
“Lord, Annie. I love you so much it hurts. I wish we could get married before I l
eave, but I know we can’t. Promise you’ll wait for me? Promise?”
“I promise, George. I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Maybe this stupid war will be over by the spring and all the boys can come home safe and sound.” She hesitated and gathered her courage. “I…I love you too,” she whispered.
Her breath whooshed out of her. Strong arms pulled her tight to his body and his mouth sought and found hers. The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be on fire and a need she couldn’t identify flared in her belly, swelled her breasts where they pushed against his chest.
“Oh my,” she exclaimed when he broke the kiss. “Oh my.”
“Annabelle! Where have you gotten to?” Mother’s voice echoed up the stair well. Her footsteps moved toward the kitchen.
George stood and drew her up with him, holding her tight while they balanced on the top step. She turned her face up for his kiss and was disappointed when he only pressed his lips to hers briefly. She opened her mouth to protest but he forestalled her.
“No, Annie. If I keep kissing you I won’t be able to stop, and I won’t compromise you. Not when I can’t offer you anything right now. There’ll never be another girl for me. You’re sure you want to wait for me? I’ll understand if you don’t or you change your mind when you think on it some.” He looked so miserable, her heart turned over.
“Of course, I’ll wait for you. And I won’t change my mind. I’ve got to go down,” she said at the sound of footsteps in the hall at the foot of the stairs. “It must be midnight by now and Mother will need me to help settle those who are staying over. You wait here and come down after I’ve gone and the coast is clear.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, unable to leave him without one more kiss. “I love you,” she declared, gathered her skirts, smoothed her hair and descended the steps.
“Oh, there you are. What have you been doing, you look like a hoyden?” Mother’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“I went up to my room to lie down for a moment. I wasn’t feeling well, but I’m fine now.” She drew her mother away from the stairwell. “What do you need me to do? How many are staying over?”
