by Rita Feutl
Mrs. McDougall clutched the bottle gratefully. “You’ve been so kind, Mrs. Black Bear. There are so few of us women here; I didn’t know...Thank you.”
Outside, Louisa waited until they’d passed the pipe smoke from the men gathered in front of the store before she turned to Janey. “Come and meet my husband. He’ll be glad to see you again.We’ve both been waiting for you.”
Lucas walked with them to where Blackfoot was hitched, saying that he would stay by the store to listen for news. Janey hardly noticed. She just wanted to get somewhere quiet so she could question Louisa about...well, everything.
BUT IT WAS ONLY LATER THAT EVENING, as the last of Louisa and Black Bear’s children were tucked into bed in the rafters of their snug log house, that Janey finally got some answers. It was Black Bear who began.
“I knew you had magic when you disappeared in that hole,” he said. “When I found out you had lured Martin Jameson into the water, I knew it was good magic.”
“I didn’t lure him into the water,” Janey sputtered. “I was just helping and then I think he kicked me and I fell in and the letters all... What happened to him anyway?”
Black Bear grinned, turning to Louisa. “She talks as fast as you used to. I have forgotten.”
Louisa rolled her eyes, but turned to Janey. “You mean Martin? He was fine, though some of the men had to go into the river and pull him out. He was not a good swimmer, you know. Even now he hates the water. And from that day on he had this awful red scar on his cheek that he said you gave him.”
“What do you mean, ‘even now’? Is Martin still here?” Janey asked anxiously.
“Martin Jameson is still here,” said Black Bear.“He runs a farm south of the river.”
Instantly Janey wondered whether those nasty brats who’d used her for target practice in 1907 were any relation. It’d be a hard question to ask, she decided. Instead, she asked another.
“The letters, Louisa, please tell me what happened to the letters.”
Louisa sighed. “We had no word from Papa that night, or for many years later. When I was twelve, Mama told me that Papa had married another woman, a white woman, in the East, and that he was never coming back to get us. Maybe he wrote us and the letter was washed away when you fell in the water, or maybe he had forgotten us already when he stepped into the York boat that spring.”
The quiet that followed was broken only by the crackling of the fire and the steady breathing of the children sleeping in the attic above. Black Bear gently covered his wife’s hand with one of his own.
Janey’s curiosity finally urged her on. “What happened then? Did you have to leave the fort?”
“We still lived there, but Mama worked hard; harder than before, and I did too. I made enough pemmican to fill ten York boats.”
“When I watched you pound that dried meat into powder, I knew you were the wife for me,” said Black Bear, a sly grin spreading over his face.
Louisa elbowed him playfully in the side. “And when you promised to build me a cabin so I could farm while you went off hunting and trapping, I figured you’d be the husband for me.”
Black Bear leaned into his wife. “Better even than that Mr. Martin Jameson?”
“That ugly old man! What would I want with him?”
Black Bear chuckled and sat back. “And I can still hunt better than he can.”
“Didn’t I tell you that he was boastful?” said Louisa, turning to Janey. “Besides, I didn’t want to become Martin’s country wife and have him go East whenever it suited him.”
Again, Janey cut into the silence that followed. “You’ve learned English well,” she said to Black Bear.
He nodded. “I’ve learned many things from the white men.” His eyes narrowed briefly, but he continued. “I always wished I could have called to you that night by the fort. You were so frightened. I was just following to make sure you would be safe, and then you...were gone. I always wondered...where did you go when you went down that hole? And why are you here now?”
Janey sighed.What on earth should she tell them? Louisa leaned forward. “Tell us about your world, Janey.The one that you come from.”
“Some of it will be yours too,” said Janey finally.“I will meet you again, somewhere in the summer of 1907, I know that much.”
Louisa nodded gravely.“Then I will grow to be an old woman. Will I see my children grow old around me?”
“I don’t know. It will be such a short meeting. But I can tell you that lots of people will move to Edmonton and that it will have many buildings and a bridge across the river...”
“Humph, that will put John Walter and his ferry out of business,” said Black Bear.
“And there will be cars...” she caught Louisa’s puzzled expression. “I mean automobiles...” Still nothing registered. “Carriages with engines...horseless carriages!” Janey was delighted when her small audience grasped her description. “And airplanes...machines that will carry people through the air! Oh, and telephones which will let people talk to each other from far away, and another machine that will let you see moving pictures...pictures of people and animals and things that are actually moving.”
From the attic upstairs a voice called down softly: “Mama...Mama...is this all true?”
“Daniel, go to bed now. Right away.” Louisa rose from the table.
“But Mama, imagine...”
“Not another word, Daniel. It’s late.” She turned back to Janey. “What you say is almost impossible to believe, and yet, part of me thinks...” A rustle from upstairs interrupted her. When it quieted, she whispered, “I think it’s time for sleep.You are welcome to the bench here. I’ll bring you blankets.”
Before Janey drifted off, she realized she’d forgotten to tell Louisa that it was her words, about a disaster, that had driven Janey into the past. She must ask her about them tomorrow.
BUT JANEY NEVER GOT THE CHANCE. Early the next morning, an insistent banging shook her awake. Black Bear was already at the door when Janey stuck her head out from the covers.
“Is...is Jamie there? I really need to see him,” said a small child’s voice.
Puzzled, Black Bear turned into the room. It took Janey a few seconds to realize that the child was asking for her; she’d forgotten about acting like a boy in front of her hosts. “I’m here, I’m here,” she called, after sitting up and stuffing her cap on her head.
Black Bear beckoned the child inside, and Lucas edged past the tall imposing man.
“Jamie, I’m so glad I found you. The men, they said they’re getting ropes and goin’ to Pa’s property. Jamie, there’s just him out there an’ me, an’...an’, you said...” Lucas seemed to run out of steam before he took a deep breath and began again. “You said...you said you were here to stop something bad from happening.”
Janey had nearly forgotten all about the small boy who now stood shivering before her. She noticed that the toes of his shoes were worn through, and that his pants hardly reached his ankles. His hands were rough and callused, and his ears were as red as his cheeks.
Before she could ask where he’d spent the night, Louisa bustled forward with mugs of warm milk for them. Lucas clutched his gratefully, then took a long appreciative sip. Janey, who normally hated heated milk, recognized the rumbling in her stomach. She swallowed it quickly, then reached eagerly for a slice of buttered bread Louisa handed her.
“Quick, Jamie, please... Them men are looking mighty determined.”
Louisa and Black Bear were exchanging words by the stove in Cree. As Louisa turned away, Black Bear switched to English. “It’s not about us, Louisa. It’s white men arguing over land now. Leave us out of it.”
Louisa spoke again, and Black Bear finally sputtered, “Fine, take them. But stay out of it.”
Children tumbled down from the attic, led by a young boy. “Can I come too, Mama?”
“No, Daniel.” His father spoke sharply.“I need you with me on the north trapline today.”
Dejected,
the boy turned away, then sidled up to Janey. “Will there really be machines that can fly?” he whispered. Janey nodded, but before he could ask another question, Louisa had flung Janey a blanket to wrap about her and pushed her toward the door. Lucas danced in front of them on the path toward the stables, nervousness jittering through him. Louisa had to speak sharply to him before she could lead Blackfoot out of his stall.
In the early morning light, their breath left a trail behind them as they rode toward the main path. Once they found it, Louisa urged the horse into a trot, but slowed it down when she saw the crowd of men ahead. There were dozens of them, carrying sledgehammers and axes, with grim faces that gave Blackfoot’s riders only cursory glances as the horse picked his way past on the frozen ground. Glimpsing a particular face, Janey shivered under her blanket. A long, red scar that started near one eye and ran down to the bottom of the nose seemed to glow furiously in the dawn light.The man’s eyes caught Janey’s.
“Whatcha starin’ at, boy?” he said gruffly. Janey swung her eyes away, relieved that Blackfoot had overtaken the crowd, and could break out into a brisk trot again.
“Was that Martin?” she asked timidly.
Louisa nodded. “Mr. Jameson himself. I wouldn’t cross paths with him again, if I were you. He has said many times that it was an unlucky day for him when a certain strange young boy came to the fort.”
Janey gulped. She had no desire to even come near Martin again, especially now that he was a grown man with, what?...fifty years of bullying behind him. Not a chance. Janey shifted uncomfortably on the saddle, suddenly wondering why she was even on the horse, heading down this path.
“Louisa, why are these men so upset with Mr. George?”
Louisa sighed. “The land Mr. George is building his house on used to belong to Mr. Sinclair, but he sold it.The man who bought it isn’t living on the land, so Mr. George just figured it was his to build on.”
“That’s why those men are so angry?”
“Well, they don’t have any official papers for any of this land, because the government hasn’t come out and measured it to tell anyone who it belongs to. Of course, when you think about it, it belonged to Black Bear’s people before anyone else.”
Janey felt squirmy inside. She’d studied some of this back at school, but it had never really sunk in until now.“Well, if these men behind us didn’t really pay for the land, then...”
“Most of the men claimed the land after they stopped working for Edmonton House. They just agreed amongst themselves who owned what. If someone new comes in now and jumps their claims, it will make a mess of their system.”
The framework of the little house appeared before them in the clearing. Mr. George was busy hammering away, and only looked up briefly when the horse approached.
“Pa! Pa! There are all these men comin’, Pa! They got axes, and one man said he was gonna get a rope. Pa? They’re not gonna, gonna...” his voice faltered.
Mr. George looked down at his son. “Hang me? Is that what you been thinkin’? There ain’t no crime in wantin’ to put up four walls and a roof, son. That rope ain’t for hangin’, though it might be for destroyin’.” He looked at Louisa. “Thank ye kindly for bringin’ my boy back.”
Louisa climbed back onto Blackfoot. Panicking, Janey ran up to her. “Louisa, what am I supposed to do?”
“I am Mrs. Black Bear,” she said, pulling herself up. “And this is your people’s fight, not mine.You told the boy you must stop a terrible thing. Perhaps this is your destiny.”
How would she know? thought Janey as she watched the woman ride away. Just as she rounded a corner, the first of the men came into view.
“George! You got no right to be building on this land,” called one of the men.
“There ain’t no law that says I can’t,” said Mr. George, edging toward the tent that huddled in the middle of the half-constructed building.
“The men in this community already know who owns this land, and it ain’t you, George,” called another.
“Yeah, but the government hasn’t said who owns it neither, so I reckon I can claim it just as well as any of you.”
From the edge of the clearing, Janey and Lucas watched as more and more men poured in. “Every man from around these parts is here,” whispered Lucas nervously.
A burly man elbowed his way toward the front of the crowd, which had now grown to more than one hundred onlookers. “George, if you do not remove this building from these premises in half an hour, these men here will be willing to render you all the assistance in their power. They’ll knock it clear into the river if you don’t see some sense.”
Without turning his back to the crowd, Mr. George reached inside the open tent flap, then straightened again. “I ain’t plannin’ on movin’ this building, and I’ll shoot me the first man who tries,” he said, and pointed a revolver at the burly man. The crowd fell silent for an instant, but as Lucas and Janey watched, a nimble farmer leapt through the studs behind Mr. George and knocked him down.
“I got the gun,” yelled another man, and the crowd roared and surged forward.
“C’mon, Jamie. We gotta go help,” shouted Lucas, scrambling around the crowd for an opening that would get him to his father. Janey followed reluctantly, uncertain of what she should do. If this was the disaster she was supposed to stop, she didn’t have a clue about how to do it. Reaching the upright studs of the building, she watched as at least four men tried to pry Mr. George from the frame of his house, with little success. He had wrapped arms and legs around the sturdiest of the studs, and looked for all the world like a firefighter about to drop down his pole.
Little Lucas darted frantically between the men, blindly pulling at their coats and kicking at their ankles. He was crying, Janey saw, and when a fierce-looking man grabbed him by the collar and shook the small child, Janey did the only thing she could. An ear-splitting whistle pierced through the clearing, and everyone turned to stare at her.
“Now, now, look,” said Janey, making her way forward and snatching Lucas from the stranger. “There has to be some sensible way to solve this.” She had no idea about what she should say, but figured that as long as she could speak, the crowd might not do anything drastic. Besides, if it worked in 1907, it ought to work in 1882.
She turned to face the glowering men. Somewhere along the way she’d lost Louisa’s blanket, and a sudden gust of wind made her shiver in her flannel shirt and overalls. “There’s so much land out here that you can’t just wreck a man’s house for no reason,” she urged. She ignored the mutterings and continued. “This man’s just trying to build a home for himself and his son, just like all of you.”
“Who are you to tell us?” came a growl from the right side of the crowd. Janey swung toward the voice, and realized, to her horror, that she was looking into Martin’s scarred and angry face.
“Yeah, well? Who are ya?” Martin advanced on Janey as she backed away. “I know ya, don’t I? I been watchin’ ya and yer a troublemaker if I ever knew one.” He grabbed hold of her arm and muttered, more quietly, “Same shirt, same eyes, same funny shoes. I don’t know how ya did it, but you’re that same lazy, spiteful good-for-nothin’ come back to cause me more trouble. Well, not this time.” His voice rose and he turned to face the men.
“Boys, this here’s a troublemaker of the first sort and it was probably all his idea. What are we waitin’ for? Get the rope.”
Eager hands pushed the long coils of rope over the crowd and toward the studs.Terrified, Janey closed her eyes. “Thinkin’ you might deserve this, aren’t ya?” said Martin close to her ear. He yanked her out of the house frame. She opened her eyes to watch as men tied the rope to the studs, and started pulling.
“Pa! Pa!” cried Lucas, his voice thin and high-pitched in terror. Mr. George still clung to his stud, and with every yank of the house, he seemed to settle more firmly around the wood.
Grunting, swearing, and sweating, the throng pushed the little house frame to the cliff �
��s edge. “Ya better get out, George,” said one of the men. “This is goin’ over.”
“Then let me get my tent and our bedrolls,” said Mr. George, resignedly. His little tent had already collapsed; he folded it together in four quick movements, scooped up the bundle, and stepped gracefully from his house.
“Let’s go, boys,” shouted Martin, and with one final, grunting heave, the house crashed over the side of the cliff. While most of the men cheered, others flung the extra lumber after the demolished house.
“Now it’s your turn,” said Martin. Before she could turn, or struggle, or even shout, he picked Janey up and flung her over the side of the cold, snowy embankment. It was only as she was tumbling down, feeling the icy slush soak through her overalls, that fury took hold, and Janey thrashed around wildly, hoping to break her fall. But nothing worked. Exhausted, bruised, and dizzy, Janey finally landed in a puddle of slush at the bottom.
Please, please let this be present-day time, thought Janey before she opened her eyes. But the cold water seeping into the front of her overalls made her panic. It had been hot and dry in her own time.What if she was stuck in 1882?
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE COULDN’T, SHE JUST COULDN’T, OPEN HER eyes and face those awful men anymore. Maybe if she lay here quietly on this cold, wet riverbank, everyone would go away and she could find a way to get back, thought Janey. She was obviously in the wrong time period. And she’d been absolutely no help to Lucas. If anything, the sight of her had goaded Martin on. But what was she supposed to be doing here, in a muddy little town with a guy who had decided she was his arch-enemy? And how was any of this supposed to help her keep from moving to Edmonton?
A whimper rose to Janey’s lips, but she swallowed it back down. All right, Janey, she said to herself; you can lie here feeling sorry for yourself or you can pull yourself together, get out of this puddle, and face the world. Drawing her arms under her, she felt the earth shift. Janey’s eyes flew open and there, beside her, was Granny’s locket, dangling off a button on her flannel cuff. She grabbed it, and sat up.
