Father rubbed his hand through his hair. “No, that’s true. We’ll celebrate this evening!”
Not even Mrs. Montgomery could ruin this moment for her. Grabbing her Bible and the newspaper, Maud floated to church.
The moment Maud arrived, however, Mrs. Rochester, the new reverend’s wife, pulled her aside. She was a stout woman who always had a cheery disposition, but today she looked worried. “Oh, Maud. Kate McGregor didn’t show up to teach the girls’ Sunday School,” she said. “Would you please take her class?”
Maud was surprised she was even being asked, and she felt a bit cheated, too; she had so wanted to share her good news with her friends—and with Will. She suppressed a smile as she remembered she would soon see him since Will worked in the church library, which was in the same room that was used for the girls’ Sunday School classroom. She turned her attention back to Mrs. Rochester. “I’ve never taught before,” she said.
“It’s easy.” Mrs. Rochester squeezed Maud’s arm. “This week’s lesson is Noah’s ark.”
Although Maud certainly knew the story, that didn’t mean she could teach it. But Mrs. Rochester looked so desperate, and Maud knew what her grandmother would say: “A good Presbyterian doesn’t shrink from her duty.”
“All right,” Maud said.
After many exclamations of gratitude, Mrs. Rochester introduced Maud to the group of little girls dressed in their Sunday best and then left her alone.
Six pairs of eyes gazed up at her. Maud told them to open their Sunday School readers and asked them a series of questions she herself had been asked a hundred times about the Lord telling Noah to build an ark that would save only his family and each and every animal, two by two. But none of the girls had done their homework, and instead of answering her questions, they had a few confounding ones of their own:
“Was Jesus on the ark?”
“Did everyone go to heaven or hell?”
“How did Noah know the voice came from God and not Satan?”
She was saved when Will entered with a pile of books. “Noah knew that it was God because Satan’s voice is deeper,” he said, placing the books on the shelf.
The girls listened, entranced, as he began a long explanation as to how Noah would know the difference, and then they peppered him with questions. Eventually, Mrs. Rochester came to take them to their parents, and Maud and Will were left alone in the room.
Maud leaned against the wall and started laughing with deep relief. Thank goodness that was over.
“Got caught today?” he said, shelving a book.
“Yes,” Maud said, collecting the readers. “I’ve found myself transformed from pupil to teacher.”
He took the books from her and placed them on the shelf. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I enjoyed it well enough. One thing I can say is that I’m certainly better at it than Mr. Mustard.”
Will laughed.
“Thank you for your help,” she said. “They definitely know how to put someone on the spot.”
“And you wouldn’t know anything about that,” he said in a way that made her cheeks warm. She turned her face to the picture window so he wouldn’t see.
“How about being the librarian here?” she said, after she regained her composure. “I mean, do you enjoy your time here?”
“Yes,” he said.
“That’s good, if I’m going to be a teacher.”
“Me being a librarian?” He chuckled.
Maud laughed nervously, and she helped him put away the rest of the books. “Actually,” she said, “I have some interesting news today.”
“Really?” he said. “A teacher and a holder of secrets?”
She handed him the Charlottetown Patriot, and he smiled widely when he saw her name. He had the most agreeable smile. “Congratulations! I know you always have a pen in your hand, but I had no idea you had real aspirations. This is excellent, Maud. We’ll have to find a way to celebrate your good fortune.”
“Father said the same thing,” Maud said. “But nothing is as wonderful as seeing one’s name in print.” She breathed deeply. “Will, this proves to me that my greatest dream will come true. I am going to be a writer.”
“It is good to know who you really are,” he said. They stared at each other for a few moments, and Maud found herself suddenly anxious to fill the silence with words. But before she could do so, Annie burst into the room.
“Those boys are such terrors!” Annie taught the third-grade boys.
“They need you to show them the way, Annie,” Maud said, turning toward her.
Annie placed the books on the table next to Will. “Hello, Will.”
“Hello, Annie,” he said, picking up the pile. “I’d better finish this so I can get to my aunt’s in time for lunch. My mother, father, and all of my brothers and sisters are coming too, and it promises to be quite a feast.”
Maud pictured Will and Laura gathered around a table with their family, and then remembered the tension and arguments that awaited her at home. She felt a sudden stab of jealousy.
“Goodbye, Will,” Maud said.
“Goodbye, Maud,” he said in a way that made her feel as though he was saying “hello.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
After weeks of preparation and rehearsal, the day of the Christmas concert arrived. Mid-December brought with it terribly cold weather, with the kitchen thermometer reading forty below.
“Could the Lord have picked a colder day?” Mrs. Montgomery said, wrapping a red wool scarf around Katie’s head. She glared at Maud as though she had somehow conspired with the Almighty to inconvenience her stepmother with the inclement weather.
“Maud and her friends have worked so diligently on the Christmas concert,” Father said, straightening his gloves. “Besides, your niece Mrs. Stovel has directed it, so you might want to show your support.”
“At least it is only across the street.” She flounced out, leaving Maud to carry Katie—and part of her costume.
When they got to the church, Maud handed Katie to Father and went to the makeshift dressing room, which was much too tiny for anyone to get around in. No one could find their costumes, Alexena kept tripping on her skirt, and Lottie was sure she’d forgotten “everything she’d ever learned.”
But once on stage, the performers played with near perfection. Only one of the tableaux was a complete disaster: when Lottie almost fell into Alexena because Frank accidentally stepped on the sheet she was wearing as a cape. But Maud’s recitation of “The Child Martyr” was so excellent, she received a standing ovation. The audience even demanded an encore, so she recited part of her own work about Cape LeForce and spun it as well as her grandfather had.
The ladies had baked their finest for the tea that followed the performances, and the room smelled of sugar and pine. Many people came up to Maud to congratulate her.
“I knew you were scribbling something,” Mrs. McTaggart said, “but I had no idea you were such a talent.”
“I was so impressed by your elocution.” Aunt Kennedy hugged her. “Laura told me she helped you practice and knew you would be a success.”
Mrs. Rochester invited Maud to the Bible Study that was beginning in the manse in the New Year. “We need someone with your talents,” she said.
After waiting patiently for everyone to leave, Will came up to Maud and asked if she was going with them to the train station. Now that the train was coming through Prince Albert, a popular evening activity among the young people was watching it come in. Because of her duties at home, Maud had yet to be allowed to go.
“I’ll have to ask my father,” Maud said. She hadn’t been able to get to him because people kept stopping her to talk and offer congratulations.
“Will!” A tall man who was an older version of her friend called to him.
“My father,” Will said to Maud, before turning to face him.
“How do you do, Mr. Pritchard?” she said.
“Will,” he puffed. “Didn’t you hear me c
alling you?”
“Yes, Father,” Will said. “I was finishing up my conversation with Maud. Didn’t she perform her reading wonderfully?”
Without acknowledging her in the slightest, Mr. Pritchard looked over Maud’s head and said to Will, “When I call you, you must come. Your mother was looking for you. I believe she wants you to drive her and your brother and sisters home.”
Will and Laura’s five other siblings lived at Laurel Hill with their parents. “Aren’t you going home, Father?”
“I have people to speak with,” he said. “Be sure to take her and your siblings home.”
And then he was gone.
Maud realized she was deeply disappointed that Will wouldn’t be at the train station—not that Father would let her go anyway.
“I guess I’d better go,” he mumbled and walked away.
Maud had drifted across the room, moving closer to her own father, when Laura came up and kissed her. “Will has to take Mother and the brood home, but you’ll come, won’t you?”
“Go where?” Mrs. Montgomery said. “You have to put Katie to bed tonight.”
Katie was looking rather tired; the little blue bow Maud had fought so hard to tie earlier in the day was halfway out of her hair. “I guess I have responsibilities,” Maud said to Laura.
“There you are, Maudie—Maud.” Father hugged her. “I’m so proud of you.”
For the first time in a while, Maud saw that old spark in his cobalt-blue eyes. The fact that she had caused it was all Maud needed to make it the perfect night.
“I was telling Maud that Katie needed to go home,” Mrs. Montgomery said.
Katie yawned widely and laid her head against Maud’s skirt, pulling it a little. Maud lifted her sister up and let her rest her head on her shoulder.
“You might have told me, Hugh, that you had such a talented daughter,” Mr. McTaggart said. “People are asking about her.”
“Really,” Father said, and exchanged a glance with his father-in-law. “Yes, she is quite a marvel, isn’t she?”
Maud shifted Katie. Mrs. Montgomery had crossed her arms, as if refusing to take her own daughter.
“Mr. Montgomery,” Laura piped in. “Perhaps Maud would be allowed to join us at the train station after she puts Katie to bed? On a night such as this, we wanted to celebrate.”
What was her friend doing? Couldn’t she see that Mrs. Montgomery was not going to allow Maud to go out? Her role in this family was quite clear.
But then Father did the most extraordinary thing. “Laura, you are right. Maud can go with you.” He extended his arm to his daughter. “After I introduce her to some of my friends, that is.”
“What about Katie?” Maud said.
Father didn’t say anything as Mrs. Montgomery continued to stand with her arms crossed.
“Mary Ann,” Mr. McTaggart said. “You can see how important it is for Maud to say something to your husband’s possible voters.”
“It’s much too cold for either of us to be out,” she said, but there was no longer any power in it, and she took Katie from Maud. She didn’t even wish anyone good night as she left.
If she hadn’t so enjoyed being taken around on Father’s arm, Maud might have felt sorry for her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Finally, they all left the church. It had started to snow, warming up the early evening air enough so that being outside was tolerable. As the group of performers walked up the hill toward the train station, reliving their successes and tragedies, Maud felt as though she might be able to make Prince Albert her home after all. With Laura and Annie, Alexena and Lottie—even Frank—it felt as though she was becoming part of a crowd again.
Maud was sorry that Will was missing it. He was as much part of the success as anyone else.
“Will he stay at Laurel Hill tonight?” Maud asked Laura as they rounded the corner.
“Most probably,” Laura said. “It will be too dark to come back.”
“It is too bad he couldn’t stay,” Maud said.
Laura was silent for a moment. “Mother needs help. She has so much to take care of on the ranch and with all of us. With me away, I know it is harder for her, but she wanted me to finish school this year.”
“She cares about your education,” Maud said.
“She was a teacher before she got married,” Laura said. “If it were up to Father, I would have left school last year. Particularly after my sister died. Mother was sick for a while.”
“I’m so sorry, Laura,” Maud said. “I didn’t know.”
Laura stopped walking and gazed out to the frozen river. “It was right before you got here. We don’t talk about it much.”
They were quiet for a few moments.
“Mother said she wanted me to enjoy my freedom while I could,” Laura said, after a while. “I’m so grateful I get to study art at the convent.”
“You are very talented,” Maud said. “I enjoyed those sketches you showed me when I was last at your aunt’s.”
“We’re going to have a show in June; you must come.”
June seemed so far away. By then her little brother or sister would have been born, and Maud would no longer be in school herself. “I hope to be there.”
Laura took her arm and the two walked on.
When the group arrived at the station, people began to pair off. While one of Laura’s suitors, George Weir, wanted her attention, it was Andrew Agnew who won out, taking her to a quiet corner near the ticket window. Frank was trying to get Alexena’s attention, but she would have none of it.
For once, Maud was happy to be watching without anyone really noticing her.
“Now, how come you are alone?” Maud jumped at the unexpected sound of Will’s low voice.
“I thought you were staying at Laurel Hill tonight?” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray how excited she was to see him.
“Once I got everyone home, Mother said I had done such a fine job tonight that she wanted me to celebrate with my friends. Besides”—he grinned—“I’m used to traveling in the dark.”
“You must have ridden quickly,” Maud said.
He didn’t say anything, but his grin made it impossible not to blush.
“Will, you came after all,” Laura said, rushing over. “I was telling Maud that you probably wouldn’t be.”
“So you were talking about me,” Will said.
Maud opened her mouth, and then shut it.
“We were amusing ourselves,” Laura said, slapping her brother’s arm. “The station manager tells me that a train should be coming through in about ten minutes. Shall we go get a good view?”
The cold wind hit them the moment they stepped out onto the platform. Maud pulled her wool scarf over her mouth. Will went to the edge where the tracks started, picked up some snow and packed it into a ball, and then threw it into the dark. Maud followed him.
“I’m sorry about my father,” he said. “He can be so focused that he forgets his manners.”
“What is he so focused on?”
The wind blew open the door and it banged against the wall, letting out the warmth and the conversation of those who’d had the wisdom to stay indoors.
“He trusted our neighbor to watch out for our farm a few years ago when he went to help fight in the rebellion. Many of the men went—”
“Yes, my father did,” Maud said.
Will concentrated on the train tracks. “I was too young.”
Laura and Andrew walked up ahead.
Will extended his arm and, despite her nervousness, she took it. The train’s wheels chugged in the distance.
“So what happened?” she asked.
“When you make a homestead claim, you must stay on the land to prove to the government that you are farming it. But being gone for those six months meant that he wasn’t.”
“But you were,” she said.
“Yes,” Will said, and didn’t speak for a few moments. Maud squeezed his arm to encourage him to go on. “The c
laim isn’t in my name. And as my father is so fond of reminding me, I wasn’t a man yet.”
Maud understood how it felt to disappoint someone you love.
“Mr. Coombs has always wanted our land, so he told the homestead office. Father has been successful so far explaining the matter, but this Inspector Coon won’t relent. Father has had to prove his claim twice. It’s no excuse, but…” He let go of her arm and turned to face her. “Maud, I hope we are friends,” he said. “I wish to get to know you better.” She could see his breath in the snow-haloed lantern lights of the station.
“Don’t you already? My grandma says I wear my heart on my sleeve.” She walked away from him and heard his soft steps shuffle the snow.
“Your grandma doesn’t know you.”
Maud laughed and turned around. “No, but she thinks she does.” She blew on her hands.
“My father thinks he knows me,” he said, throwing another snowball into the dark.
“I’m sure he thinks he does,” Maud said, wondering how much her own father really knew her. “In his way.”
“Perhaps.” He breathed puffs of white air. “He wants me to take over the farm when he’s gone. I like farming, particularly working with the horses,” he said. “But I also like learning, and I think I would enjoy going to college, but it would mean going back East, and he can’t spare me.”
“I often feel as though I’m stuck.”
“Something else we have in common,” he said. Their eyes met, and as he opened his mouth to say something more, a shrill whistle blew twice, forcing them both to look away.
In the distance, Maud could see a red light coming toward them. It would have been so much easier if her cross-country trip had taken her directly to Prince Albert.
Will grabbed more snow and tossed it onto the track. Then he rolled another snowball and handed it to Maud. “Here,” he said. “I find that sometimes taking action in one small way helps keep a person heading in the right direction.”
“Such as?” She took it.
“Such as getting lost in someone’s brown hair.” His green eyes shone in the dark, and she shivered.
Maud Page 20
