What the Heart Keeps

by Rosalind Laker

  By chance they were alone one evening in the hall before the show started. Almost automatically they dropped into the dialogue of the current movie until they realised simultaneously that it was the lead up to the scene of passionate embrace. They trailed off the words that were not their own and fell silent, looking at each other. There was no light-hearted foolishness in them now. Only a shared sense of wonder illumined their faces as they drew together. She felt him trembling as he put his strong, young arms about her. They sank into a kiss, she responding to the eager passion of his mouth, and when they drew apart at the sound of voices approaching in the lobby outside, they gazed at each other with intensity. Each knew that the kiss had been a turning point in their relationship. Henceforth, nothing would be as easy and uncomplicated as it had been previously. They were in love.

  It was when Lisa was playing some introductory music for a performance during the fourth week of her independent enterprise that she knew Peter was one of those taking their seats. How she knew it was impossible to say. There was no tingling down her spine, no sensation of being stared at, only an intimate knowledge throughout her whole body that he was close at hand. Searching her memory, she tried to recall if she had experienced a similar awareness, without realising its source, when they had both been in Calgary or when he had visited the sawmill unbeknown to her. She could well have mistaken it for the bouts of restlessness that had ever come upon her when sometimes her thoughts had drifted to him.

  She did not look round, but continued to play herself into the programme with a few dramatic chords as the opening reel projected its flickering image on the screen. In the interval before the main motion picture, she did turn her head, it being her custom to acknowledge with a smile and a nod those people she knew who had caught her attention. And there he was, seated no more than a few feet from her, and as their gaze locked across the short distance between them she felt herself drawn deep into the love she saw in his eyes.

  When the show was over and the patrons were departing, he came to her as she was stacking her sheets of music together. “How are you?” he asked her.

  She cradled the music against her with an arm. “I’m fine. And you?”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, my love,” she breathed. Then she glanced about her, for the hall was far from empty yet. “We can’t talk here.”

  “Later then. I’ll wait for you.”

  She shook her head despairingly. “I must drive home straight away. Minnie would ask questions if I deviated from my routine at this late hour of the night.”

  “Let me at least ride home with you and I’ll walk back.”

  She could not refuse him that one small favour. “Wait for me by the automobile. It’s parked by the trees at the side of the hotel stables. I’ll be about half an hour.”

  He nodded and departed. She went to pull the curtains across the screen, which remained as a semi-permanent fixture on the wall, and afterwards helped Risto and Minnie with the rewinding of the films and the stacking of the reels. When everything was done, Risto hurried out to fetch the horse and wagon and bring it to the side entrance to facilitate the loading up of the equipment. Lisa waited, as she always did, until everything was in its place and Minnie had taken up her seat beside Risto. Normally she overtook them on the road. Tonight she would not.

  As the wagon rolled away she shot home the bolts of the door, checked that all the lights in the hall had been extinguished, and then set off through the kitchen, her cashbox with the evening takings under her arm. Those still working there bade her good night as she left the stifling heat and cooking aromas to emerge into the warm air of the night, which seemed almost cool by comparison.

  She had gone more than a few steps when she heard someone coming behind her. Thinking that Peter must have been strolling about while waiting for her, she swung around expectantly in time to glimpse a brutish-looking man leaping for her. Her sudden turning saved her from the unseen attack that would have been made upon her, and gave her a second to scream before he landed a savage punch in her breast and snatched the cashbox from her. She fell sprawling and screamed again. Footsteps clattered from the kitchen as people ran out to see what was amiss. The cook reached her first.

  “Mrs. Fernley! Are you hurt?”

  She sat up with his supporting arm about her shoulders. Pain filled her breast and she felt nauseous with it, but she chose to shake her head. “I’m all right. Somebody stole my cashbox.”

  “Don’t you worry,” he said. “I guess that guy ain’t going no place with it.”

  There was certainly a lot of noise and shouting to be heard. Those in the saloon had poured out to join the crowd gathering somewhere out of her range of vision. Somebody else gave a helping hand as the chef assisted her to her feet. Then Mae was there, taking over and having her brought through to the private parlour. The door was shut and she was able to lie down on the velvet couch. Mae peered closely at her.

  “No damage to your face, thank God. But you’re white as paper and in pain, too, I can see. Where’s the injury?” When told, she used colourful language to describe what she would do in return to the thief if the opportunity for revenge could be hers. “As for you, Lisa,” she continued, “a cold compress on your bruises and you’ll spend the night here. As soon as Risto returns with the wagon, he can go back and tell Minnie where you are and why. That will give him a double portion of spooning with her at the gate.”

  In spite of the pain she was in, Lisa smiled faintly. “You’ve noticed how they feel about each other, too, have you?”

  Mae, handing her a drink of water in a glass, for she had refused anything stronger, raised an eyebrow and directed a clear look at her. “I know love when I see it. Sometimes it causes a whole lot of trouble that should never be.”

  Lisa returned the glass and closed her eyes wearily. “Don’t preach, Mae. And don’t let your conscience trouble you about bringing Peter and me together again.”

  “I must have been crazy.”

  “We would have met sooner or later. He had already rented some local stables.”

  “So I’ve heard since, but at least the responsibility wouldn’t have been mine in the first place.”

  Lisa frowned anxiously, raising herself up from the cushions. “I wonder where he is. He’ll be worried when he hears I’ve been robbed.”

  “Hears about it?” Mae chuckled. “He caught the thief. He heard you scream and by the time he reached the yard others were going to your assistance, so he gave chase. The cashbox is intact and in future you’ll leave it in the hotel safe overnight and pay the takings into the bank from here in the mornings. Peter is waiting to see you, but your bruises need attention first and you can receive him afterwards.”

  Wearing one of Mae’s less flamboyant silk robes over a voluminous nightgown of satin and lace, Lisa was installed in the hotel’s best bedroom when Peter came to see her. She exclaimed at the sight of his torn suit and cut mouth.

  “You’re hurt!” She hurried to him.

  “No, I’m not. The thief was just desperate to get away and I was equally determined that he shouldn’t. The result was a punch-up.” He took her hands into his, his knuckles bandaged. “I can’t do justice to kissing you on the lips at the moment,” he added regretfully, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. Seeing that she was suffering some reaction to the shock she had received, which had not been helped by the sudden sight of his damaged appearance, he led her across to a couch where they sat down.

  “It didn’t matter about the wretched cashbox,” she said huskily. “Suppose that man had had a knife or a gun?”

  “Maybe he did. I don’t know. I didn’t let him get the chance to use either and that’s what counts. In any case, I didn’t know he had robbed you at the time. All I knew was that he had attacked you, and for that I wanted to kill him.”

  Her cheeks became hollow and her lips quivered uncontrollably. “I’m scared that we love each other too much.”

  “Th
at’s nothing to be scared about.” He drew her to rest against him, her head against his shoulder. “We just have to sort out our lives as soon as we possibly can. Have you heard from Alan?”

  “No, I haven’t. When he’s far away in the logging camps it isn’t often I get word from him. It does happen occasionally that someone, such as a travelling preacher, might be coming this way and will bring a letter, but that’s rare. Why do you ask?”

  “I brought a new team of horses to the stables today and tomorrow I start moving them to one of the logging camps. I reckon it will take me four days to get them there. It may happen that I’ll meet Alan somewhere and, in spite of what you say, I want to speak to him and get everything into the open.”

  “No! I must be the one to tell him. Please!” She hugged an arm about his neck in her desperate plea.

  “I find the waiting hell.”

  Her upturned face was filled with anguish. “You think I’m being cruel to you, but I long to be with you for a few hours away from every spying eye and wagging tongue.”

  He spoke softly. “I know somewhere.”

  She shook her head despondently. “Impossible. Perhaps you don’t realise what a close community this is. For a married woman to be sighted with another man in her husband’s absence gives rise to talk immediately. It’s only thanks to Mae’s discretion that nobody knows you’re with me now. I will not let Alan hear gossip before he hears the truth from me.”

  “You were seen publicly with me last time.”

  “Oh, once was harmless, but we couldn’t repeat it. In any case, Alan wasn’t away in the forests then.”

  “He was in Seattle that day.”

  “That’s not the same. It’s the long absences of menfolk that make wives fretful. That’s when they’re watched by other women, and woe betide those that slip from the straight and narrow path. They are ostracised at once. I know myself to be watched as closely as any logger’s wife whenever Alan is away for weeks at a time. For his sake I’ll take no risk.”

  “You’re the only woman who drives an automobile in this district, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Then you’re free to go where you like and no one can follow you.”

  “On some terrain a horse and buggy is faster.”

  He smiled and took a map from his pocket which he spread out between them. “You know this road?” he asked her, pointing to the one along which she had driven Minnie and Harry to the lake.

  She bent her head forward. “Yes. Is that the route you’re taking tomorrow?”

  He nodded and traced a trail around the lake that led on past it in an easterly direction until his fingertip came to a spot marked in ink. “That’s a log cabin hidden amongst the trees. It belongs to a friend of mine. He’s away for some weeks, but when he knew I was to be in the area he offered me the use of it if I needed to rest the horses or sleep overnight. It’s a long walk from where you would have to leave the automobile, but there wouldn’t be a spying neighbour for many miles. Will you meet me there?”

  She hesitated only briefly before shaking her head, her face torn by the decision she felt compelled to make. “I’ve only a limited amount of will when I’m with you, my love. It would be all too easily swept away in such sublime isolation, and I must remember that Alan still has the right to stand between us.”

  “I’ll be at the cabin for two days.”

  There came a hasty knocking at the door and Mae’s voice called to them. He went to admit her and she entered at once. “You can leave now,” she said to him. “There’s no one around at the moment. I’m protecting Lisa’s good name if it kills me.”

  He grinned at her. “You’re a good friend, Mae.”

  She threw up her hands in a gesture of impatience with her own foolishness and waited while he kissed Lisa once more on the cheek. Then together Mae and Peter went from the room. Left alone, Lisa looked again at the map, drawing it onto her lap from where it had been left open on the couch beside her. The inked markings of the cabin’s location seemed to leap out at her. Although she ripped the map across several times in quick succession, she knew in her heart that she would be able to find her way there by day or night for as long as she lived.

  Ten

  When morning came Lisa was free of the aftermath of shock although her bruise matched the amount of pain it had caused her. She had bathed, dressed and breakfasted by eight o’clock when Minnie arrived in great anxiety. The girl had left Harry with Tuula Saanio and brought Lisa a bunch of flowers which she accepted gratefully.

  “They’re lovely, but I don’t deserve them. See how well I am today.”

  “I wanted to come back last night, but Risto said Mae was in charge and putting you to bed and I was not to worry.” She gave a gulp. “But I did worry.” With a gush of tears she threw her arms about Lisa. “I remembered how it was on the train to Calgary.”

  “Hush. It was nothing like that. Don’t upset yourself, Minnie dear. Dry your eyes. That’s better. Have you eaten? No, I thought not. I’ll order some breakfast for you.”

  Minnie was in luck. Risto served the food, soon convulsing her with giggles as he behaved like a comedy waiter in a movie, pretending to stumble and almost drop the tray. Afterwards he danced about as if he had burned his fingers on the coffee-pot. Fortunately they were in Mae’s own parlour or else his antics would have brought forth a furious reprimand.

  “That boy!” Mae shook her head between exasperation and amusement as she handed Lisa the cashbox that she had taken from the safe, where it was to be placed every night in future. “He should be on the stage, not waiting at table. Oh, my! Look at him now! He’s juggling with the bread rolls.” She slapped her hands together sharply and stamped her foot. “Risto! Stop!”

  He caught the rolls deftly and tossed them back into the basket, which he bore out of the room with gliding steps as if on skates. Lisa and Minnie both burst out laughing afresh, but Mae’s patience had ebbed. She made to follow him out to the kitchen but Minnie quickly blocked her way.

  “Don’t be cross with him, Mrs. Remotti,” she pleaded, her eyes dancing. “That’s the best breakfast I’ve had for a long time.”

  Mae chucked her head in sustained exasperation, although she took notice of the girl’s appeal and let him be. “He’s seen too many movies, that’s his trouble,” she declared.

  “It’s too late now,” Minnie answered merrily. “He’s like me. We’re both movie-struck.”

  Minnie went with Lisa to pay the cashbox money into the bank after they had left the hotel. Lisa had decided it should be a daily event instead of the twice-weekly procedure it had been before. Everyone they met had heard of the attack on her, women stopping in the hope of gaining more details, the men raising their hats and expressing the hope that she had recovered from her ordeal. If she had had any thoughts of meeting Peter as he had wished, however innocently, this particular morning would have eliminated them. People in a small community seemed to gather news of everybody’s business in a matter of seconds, almost as if they drew it in from the air itself. She looked across at the rented stables as she and Minnie went past and saw the place was locked up. Peter had departed early with his horses for the forest. She followed him in her thoughts.

  She tried not to think of him too much as day after day went by. It was Alan on whom she wished to concentrate, deciding how best to present her situation. He had always been fair to her and she could not believe he would stand in her way when she requested her freedom. As for loving her, he had never repeated those words since the night he had first told her.

  Perhaps the lack of a reciprocal reply on her part had confirmed for him that it could never be otherwise for her, and he had reconciled himself to that fact. It would make everything easier for them both if that should prove to be the case. She became gradually more hopeful that all would go well. At times when she glanced at the calendar on the wall, she noted in her mind’s eye Peter’s progress through the forest, and his return journey. Whe
n it drew near the day when he would arrive at the cabin she began to suffer for the disappointment that would be his when she failed to appear, for he had made it clear that it was his hope that she would reconsider and be there. She tried to find some consolation in the resolve that she would make up for every lost moment they had both endured when at last they were together in true belonging.

  A sense of desolation became acute in the morning when, after a disturbed night of looking after Harry, who was cutting a new tooth, she awoke to the certainty that Peter would have installed himself in the cabin. He would be watching for her in vain as one hour and then another went by. Downstairs, when Tuula Saanio left to go home to breakfast as she always did after staying the night, Lisa forgot to thank her for looking after Harry, a courtesy that normally was natural to her. Then she was unnecessarily brusque with Minnie for some minor carelessness and afterwards was sharp with Harry over something equally unimportant. Already highly irritable from his inflamed gum, he became twice as difficult and obstreperous.

  Lisa knew no relief when Minnie bore him out of the house to divert him with a walk and playtime. She sank down in a chair and put her head in her hands, trying to blame her tiredness on a poor night’s sleep and for the screaming tension of her nerves, but knowing that it came from an entirely different cause.

  It seemed like the last straw when Minnie came rushing back into the house an hour later, making the screen door bang and shaking the house. “Guess who’s here!” the girl cried, whirling into the parlour where Lisa was trying to divert her thoughts with some letter-writing. “Alan is home! Harry and I met him leading his horse into the sawmill stables. I’ve run ahead to let you know.”

  Lisa sat for a few moments with the pen motionless in her hand. It seemed almost more than she could bear that Alan should return today of all days. She made some acknowledgement to Minnie for bringing the news, put the pen back in the ink-stand, and rose to check her appearance automatically in a mirror before going out onto the porch to meet him.