Emily didn’t know what his place looked like, but Jane Narraway had been by twice to visit. She sat with Ada and Emily as they talked about how the Narraway farms were lined up a mile apart on both sides of the dirt road that lead straight east from town.
Mr. Arnold had grudgingly agreed Emily could have the evening free for the barn dance, and she was eagerly waiting when Shane knocked on the door. Grabbing her shawl, she escaped, her heart racing.
A horse and buggy waited in the street, his brother Lewis at the reins and Jane beside him. She climbed into the back seat with Shane’s assistance, excitement building in her breast. It had been a very long time since she’d been to a dance. What if she didn’t remember how? Would she embarrass herself?
Shane introduced her to his brother Lewis, but she knew who he was, having seen him in the shop.
The Williams’ place where the dance was being held was situated on the edge of town. Horses and carts were tied to the fence in a long line beside the barn, and light poured from the wide open door. Already musicians were tuning their instruments within, and voices were raised loud in conversation. A crowd of children rushed past as they entered the place.
“That’s Dad, on the accordion,” Shane said, pointing. “Mum is over there with my brothers Joe and Thom.” They followed Jane and Lewis as they led the way to the other side of the building where two more tall sandy-haired men stood, one with an obviously pregnant wife.
She was soon swept up into the family group—brothers Shane, Lewis, Joe and Thom, Jane, Annie, and the mother, Diane, who immediately set her at ease. Shane stuck by her side, introducing and entertaining her.
Emily found herself smiling as the evening progressed and the dancing began, not just to be polite, but because she was happy. For the first time since her family died, she felt like she was in a place where she belonged.
CHAPTER 5~THE PROPOSAL
Shane watched the door of the church from the back pew where he’d squeezed in with Joe and his family. He didn’t see Emily—perhaps Mrs. Arnold had taken a turn for the worse. She had agreed to go for lunch with him at the hotel dining room after the service, and he hoped she’d show. He’d confirmed the date with his last letter.
He’d had a good time at the barn dance. Emily had been full of fun and laughter, and the last few waltzes had been almost more than he could bear—holding her in his arms, then having to take her back to the Arnolds’ place and leave her there.
Since then, there had been many letters back and forth. Dad usually made the trip into town for the mail, as he didn’t do a full day’s work on the land any more. Shane hadn’t seen Emily since the dance. But he’d been encouraged by the lively correspondence and feared he needed to tread carefully. If he moved too fast, it might startle her into retreat.
As the congregation stood to sing the second hymn, the door creaked open and Emily appeared in the entry wearing the green skirt she’d worn for the dance. She didn’t see him, but moved silently up the aisle to an empty spot a few seats over.
As the hymn ended and the pastor began his sermon, she sat with the congregation and picked up the prayer book to find her place. Her profile was beautiful, a high forehead accentuated by the halo of dark curls. He measured the sweep of her long black eyelashes as she glanced down to follow the words the pastor was reading.
Was he interested in her? Hell, yes. Could he convince her to marry him? He didn’t have a clue.
She had no family to help her make a decision, she was under tremendous pressure from the Arnolds to perform her duties, and there were other men sniffing around. Shane glanced at Levon Helms, two pews ahead of him, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman since her arrival. He’d like to kick his teeth in, if he still had some. Levon had lost his two front teeth while playing hockey last winter, and Shane had been playing right alongside him—although not directly responsible for the trip and fall.
Finally the service was over, the last hymn sung, and the parishioners began to file out. Shane moved quickly and reached Emily with time to spare, Levon still coming from behind.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling down at her. “I wondered if you were going to make it today.”
Her cheeks darkened. “Mrs. Arnold was ill, but I was able to calm her down.”
“That’s nice. I’ll bet she’s grateful you’re there. It must be a big help.” There was an impatient shuffle in the crowd around them and he began to move toward the door.
Her smile was dazzling. “Thank you, that’s very kind.”
Her Irish accent charmed him. Shane offered his arm. “Are you free to go for lunch, then?”
“Yes sor, I believe I am.” She placed her hand on his arm, and even through her glove he felt an instant physical connection. He took a deep breath to calm himself and headed through the crowd, no longer concerned that Levon was trailing them, just anxious to get her out of there and over to the hotel dining room. They could sit at a private table and talk without worrying that others could hear.
Shane’s hands were shaking by the time they entered the room and were seated. He had plans and he might be hurrying her, but didn’t want to wait. To do so would risk giving another man the chance to step in.
News from the front in the long drawn-out war was horrendous. The German spring offensive had been devastating for the Allied troops. The British and French, he’d heard, had finally stepped up to form a united front in France, which seemed a good move, but he had no idea where Jake was in all the fighting. Somehow the whole situation was spurring him on to get his life in order, just in case. In case of what, he wasn’t sure.
The table he chose was in the front window, slightly removed from the other customers. It allowed for a public but intimate meeting.
He ordered the daily special for two, which was always a full meal of meat, potatoes, gravy and vegetables, with soup to start and dessert to follow. Then he realized what he’d done and cast an appalled look at Emily. “I’m sorry, I’ll call him right back. I didn’t even ask what you’d like.”
She giggled, her eyes twinkling, and he relaxed. “Tell me what you want,” he said, “and I’ll change the order.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ve only eaten here once before and the special was very tasty.”
Tasty, huh? He’d file that away. The whistle blew as the train pulled into the station down the street, so all talk in the restaurant ceased for a moment. By the time the soup arrived, Shane was more relaxed and enjoying himself immensely.
“Do you read?” he asked. “I like to read in the evenings.”
“Oh, yes. I love to read. The Arnolds don’t have any books, but if I had a chance…”
“Next time I come, I’ll bring you some,” he said, diving into the soup. “We trade them around the family so everyone gets a chance to read what we have. The women like some books more than others.”
He smiled and she laughed at his comment. “Yes, I’m sure that’s true. I’d like that, Shane. My parents didn’t read or write, but my brother and I were lucky to get to school in Ireland, and we learned how.”
“Okay, then.” He sobered. “Emily, I know about what happened when your family died. You have my condolences. I attended the funeral but didn’t really know you to speak about it.”
“Oh, my.” She pushed her half-empty soup bowl aside, and folded her hands on the table. “We hadn’t been here long, not at all.”
“Just a couple of months, eh?” he said.
“Yes, we arrived in late fall. My father and brother and I managed to build a one-room house. But we hadn’t had time to collect enough wood. We arrived too late, do you see. After the snow came, we began to run out of fuel. Dad and Bruce harnessed the horse to the big sleigh and went for the ravine that runs through our land. They were going to come back with a load of firewood for us.”
“I know.” Shane had heard the details and his heart hurt for her.
“But they didn’t come back, did they?” Her eyes filled with tears a
nd he reached to hold her hands in his.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Her hands were small and soft against the heavy calluses on his fingers.
A few minutes later, their soup bowls were whisked away and the meals arrived, a plate of meatloaf—elk according to the cook—mashed potatoes and gravy, squash and yams. It smelled so good, his mouth began to water but he waited.
Emily’s eyes cleared and she gave him a smile. “It looks delicious.”
He picked up his knife and fork. “Then what happened?”
She cut a piece of meatloaf and paused with it halfway to her mouth. “I waited all night, but a blizzard had come up.” She rested her fork on the edge of the plate. “The next morning there was a knock on my window and an Indian man was outside. He motioned me to come to the door. When I opened it, my neighbour was there with his pony and cart. They took me to his home.”
Shane nodded, his gaze pinned to her face. “The Indian was Frank Two Hands, he’s a good man. Word has it he found your father and brother in the ravine, along with the horse. He was too late to save them.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, that’s what they told me.”
There was a pause, and when she began eating, Shane took a bite. “Mmm, the cook’s outdone himself.” He watched her try the squash and noticed the pleased expression that crossed her face. “Worthwhile to eat here, eh?”
“Yes, different from what I’ve been making at the Arnolds’. No wonder Mrs. Arnold doesn’t eat much. There are no vegetables, are there?”
Shane chuckled at her expression. “It was nice they offered you a place.”
“Yes, I’m forever grateful.” She was making short work of her dinner, leaving the potatoes on the plate.
“Not fond of potatoes?” he asked.
She cheeks flushed. “Not really, no.”
“Had too many back home in Ireland?”
She nodded and her smile wavered.
“There are lots of different ways to cook them. Maybe you’d like them roasted.”
She took a last bite of chard.
“Emily, with our family, we don’t leave anything to chance if we can help it.” He took a deep breath and prayed his voice didn’t waver. He was about to take a giant leap. “We moved here when I was nine. My father took out a land grant and as each of us came of age, we all stepped up to do the same. We know something of how the seasons work. Spring is for ploughing and planting, including a vegetable garden. Fall is for harvest. Those things take up a lot of our time and attention. But summer is for repairs to the buildings, stockpiling firewood and other supplies—hay, wild berries, all that. We’re prepared for the winter, the best we can. You’d be secure.”
Her expression stilled as he held her gaze with his own. “I’m asking you to marry me, Emily. To be my wife. You don’t have to answer right away,” he hastened to add, afraid she was on the verge of saying no. “I don’t have a house yet. We’ve begun building, and I plan to be finished this summer, with help from my brothers. But it’s not quite there…”
He paused and she nodded.
“What?” he asked, his heart doing a two-step in his chest. Had he moved too fast? If he’d done this wrong, there might not be a chance to recover. If only….
“Yes,” she said, her cheeks rosy. “The answer is yes.”
CHAPTER 6~THE WEDDING
The wedding was set for the first day of July. Emily thought it was an auspicious choice, and felt very Canadian to be married on Dominion Day. Shane had assured her he’d get a roof on the house by then, so they’d at least have a place to move into, even if it wasn’t totally finished. He wrote a few lines to her every night reporting what he’d done that day and how he missed her. She eagerly awaited the arrival of his letters, but seldom saw him in person, he was so busy. Her time was taken up caring for Ada Arnold.
A very pregnant Annie Narraway, in town for a rare visit, and her sister-in-law Jane had come to see Emily at the Arnolds’, bringing with them a couple of dresses from their own nuptials. She tried both on and soon found herself in possession of a beautiful pale blue gown trimmed in lace which Jane promptly pinned and tucked to fit, offering at the same time to stand as her attendant at the wedding. Her heart was warmed by the support of these friendly women who would soon be family.
Mr. Arnold had ordered a new pair of shoes as their wedding gift to her. Now that she was definitely leaving her position with his wife, he’d softened toward ‘that Narraway lad’. When he offered to walk her down the aisle, she’d been overcome with emotion and gave him a hug, to his obvious discomfort.
She hardly slept a wink the night before the event, rotating in her solitary bed in the cubby below the stairs. She was pierced with sorrow that her family was not there to celebrate with her, and joy that she was joining a new family which had welcomed her with open arms. Her stomach jumped at the prospect of life with Shane. What would it be like? How would they get along? Would there be children? She hoped and worried in equal measure.
Most of the townspeople attended the ceremony, the Narraway family taking up the first rows of seats. When she entered the tiny church on Mr. Arnold’s arm, Shane waited nervously at the front before the hand-hewn altar. Tears came to her eyes at the sight of the tall lean man, sandy hair cut short, wearing a suit that looked slightly too big. He’d lost weight since she last laid eyes on him, and her heart lurched against her rib cage at the thought of all the work he’d done in the preceding months to prepare for their marriage. The longer she knew him, the more she found to love about him. His brother Thom stood at his side in the cramped space.
The ceremony was soon over. Emily rotated the ring on her finger, it felt foreign and at the same time perfect. Shane showed her the engraving inside—Emily and Shane 1918. A potluck lunch had been arranged in the Williams’ barn, and people flocked across the road, children in tow, to bring their donations of food, ranging from sliced tomatoes to platters of shortbread, and set up the tables and benches.
Emily had trouble taking it all in. It felt like she was on a runaway wagon with no control of the horses. First she and Shane were whisked away to have their photogravure taken at a studio at the back of a house in the village. She was ceremoniously seated on a carved chair while Shane stood beside her. Then they were cautioned not to move, and held still for a very long time before the photographer released them to join the throng at the barn.
The meal turned into a gay celebration. It seemed a reason to rejoice in the midst of the great tragedy of the war. News from the front in Europe had been devastating in the last weeks, as details trickled in of the renewed German offensive in France. The numbers of dead and wounded were hard to fathom. Mr. Arnold had hung a bulletin board in the store, and people dropped by to get the latest news. No one had heard from Shane’s brother, Jake Narraway, in months.
So many well-wishers came by their table, most of whom Emily did not know, but Shane introduced her to each one. By the end of the afternoon, she was pleasantly exhausted, and there was a pile of gifts in a large basket by the door.
“Do you mind if we head out soon?” Shane whispered near her ear. “I’d like to get home before dusk. Mum and Dad want to leave, too.”
She turned her gaze to him. “Yes, please. I’m fair tired, I am.”
His expression softened. “We’re not gone yet. It will take a while, I’m afraid.” He stood and tapped the table with his cup. Slowly the noise in the barn quieted. “Emily and I want to thank you for a wonderful celebration. We’d like to pack up now and head home. It’s a long drive.”
Everyone immediately rose from their seats and confusion reigned. Soon packages and dishes of food were being loaded into their wagon alongside her trunk, as Thom held the horses steady and Shane supervised. Emily stared in amazement. She wouldn’t have to cook for a week, at this rate. Then each person had to wish them happy before they could leave.
~~*~~
They finally climbed into the wagon to a chorus of cheers. Shane helped Emily int
o her coat against the evening chill. As he gathered the reins in his hands, he heard the evening train whistle as it pulled away from the station. Ahead of them, the land either side of the dirt road was flat, with a deep ravine running in an irregular path through fields that stretched as far as the eye could see.
“The territory is different from where you’re from, isn’t it?” he said.
She nodded, threading her arm through his. She laid her head against his shoulder and he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yes, but I’m after getting used to it, I am.”
“Yeah.” He flicked the reins to hurry the horses along. The day had seemed interminable so far, and he couldn’t wait to get home. “My folks are from Yorkshire but I was born in Canada, northern Ontario. It’s not as foreign to me as it must be for you. Are you sorry you left Ireland?”
She shook her head. “Mother had died, my younger brother too. We were starving. Taking the offer from the Government of Canada to come settle the land seemed like an impossible dream.”
She tightened her grip on his arm and he felt the pressure of her breast against his bicep. Anticipation curled in his groin.
“What does the house look like now?” she murmured.
He braced his feet on the footboard. “I hope you won’t be disappointed,” he said. “It’s mostly finished, at least the roof is on to protect us if it rains. We’re short of furniture, but I’ll leave that to you to choose.” He wished he was further along in the construction, but he’d done all he could. There was time before winter set in to finish off and seal the cracks.
“We have tomorrow off,” he said, eagerness lurking in his chest. “I’ve told my brothers to give us a couple of days to settle in, so we won’t be bothered.”
Dreams and Promises: Love, Loss and Redemption in a Land of Infinite Promise Page 5
