“This ability to make fire,” Rain continued, “could have been what ultimately saved them. And remember, they didn’t have little books of paper matches back then. Perhaps she carefully saved and nurtured coals from the cabin fire, or perhaps she had a tinder box which she had rescued from the fire.”
Rain took a break from his story as he carefully drove around an emergency crew who were clearing some downed power lines from the road. Although the men were dressed for the weather, they still looked wet and miserable. “Poor guys,” Rain said. “I hope they get paid well for being out on a night like tonight.” Emily, too, feeling grateful for the warmth of the car, regarded the workers with sympathy.
Once clear of the road crew, Rain resumed the story. “New Years came and went. It was now 1817 and still no husband. Luckily for history, Emily’s diary was one of the things she had managed to save from the fire. She did not make many entries at this time as you can well imagine, but she did note her birthday. She wrote: If anyone had told me that one day I would be living in a hole in the ground in the middle of the Canadian wilderness in winter, I would have told them they were insane. But here I am, and I am the one going insane. I have little milk for the baby. He coughs all the time. Today, I am eighteen.....”
“Eighteen?” Emily gasped. “She was only eighteen?”
“That’s right,” he said with a glance in her direction. “I can’t imagine an eighteen-year old today being able to cope with the same hardships, but, to be fair, Emily was one of the tough ones as well as one of the lucky ones. Many settlers’ wives did die under the harsh conditions, and others actually went insane with loneliness, fatigue, and the absolute strangeness of their new surroundings. Ever heard of cabin fever?” Emily nodded, fascinated. “We just use the expression to say we’re tired of being cooped up in the house and want to go out. But in those days, it was a serious problem. Confined to a very small cabin with no one around for miles, people literally went crazy, throwing open their cabin doors and running out into the snow in an attempt to escape. Disoriented and confused, they’d soon lose their way and often freeze to death.”
“I’ll never use that expression lightly again,” Emily said earnestly. “But when did her husband get back?”
“Not so fast,” Rain said. “Just when it looked absolutely hopeless, a Mohawk man came across the burnt-out cabin. He found Emily and the baby in the root cellar almost unconscious from hunger and exposure. From diary entries made sometime later, we learn that your grandmother initially thought the Native man was her husband, Michael. He stayed with them until spring, cooking and caring for them."
Rain suddenly braked as they crested a hill. He pulled to the shoulder of the road, and Emily looked with dismay at the scene before them. In the beam of the headlights it was possible to see that the creek, which normally flowed calmly under the road, had swollen its banks and was now rushing over the road.
“Now what?” she wondered aloud.
“Well, that depends on how much you like your car,” Rain said with a mischievous grin that made Emily’s heart miss a beat or two. “Do you know if this thing floats?”
“We should have brought the truck, you mean.” She really hated the idea of having to turn back. She was having such a good time. She no longer cared if they made it to the restaurant. She was quite happy sitting with Rain in the car on the side of the road.
They watched as an approaching vehicle, not much bigger than Emily’s, drove slowly through the rushing water without mishap. The water wasn’t as deep as it appeared. “Go for it,” Emily pronounced confidently.
“Okay,” he said. “The biggest danger appears to be splashing water into the engine and stalling it. I’ll drive slowly.” He pulled back onto the road and steered the car successfully through the section of flooded road.
Realizing she’d been holding her breath, Emily sighed in relief. “Good work.”
“Thanks, Boss,” he replied without sarcasm. He glanced over at Emily and was rewarded with a spontaneous smile that was, to him, like watching the sun come out. He hoped she wasn’t going to be too annoyed when they got to the restaurant. He did owe her one, it was true. But at this point maybe it was best just to forget the slight and come clean with her.
“So what happened next?” said Emily, interrupting his thoughts.
“Where was I?” he said, feeling distracted.
“Emily had just been rescued,” Emily recapped. “What was the Native man’s name?”
“His English name was Gabriel,” Rain said picking up the thread of his story. “He lived on a nearby reserve, a tract of land that had been granted to the Mohawks by the English in exchange for their support during the American Revolution. It’s is about forty miles from here, which means Gabriel was a long way from home. But his Native name meant to wander far, and he later told Emily that he had wandered all his life so that he might find her and save her. Incidentally, it had been Gabriel who had come by the winter before with food for Emily and her husband.
“That spring Gabriel returned to his home, and Emily rebuilt the cabin with the help of her neighbours. That cabin is the one I live in now. It was at this time she learned from people in the village that her husband had returned, but, finding the cabin burned down and his wife and child missing, had assumed the worst and left again to parts unknown. The residents of the village, not knowing Emily’s plight, were unable to enlighten him. This was the first they’d known of a fire. Remember, it was winter, and her closest neighbour was more than five miles away. It would seem they were unaware Michael had left his family to fend for themselves in the first place.”
The car crested another hill, and the lights of town came into view. “There was a lot more that the neighbours didn’t know, but we’re almost there. So the rest of the story will have to keep for another time.”
Emily was disappointed. “At least tell me when Michael came back. He must have come back at some point. After all, he’s buried behind the Blue Church.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong. That’s a whole other story. His name is on the stone, placed there by Emily when she learned of her husband’s death. Michael’s body is actually buried in Churchill Falls where he died. You see, while Michael Alexander may be your great-great-great-great grandmother’s husband and the man to which Maple Tree Farm was granted, the love story belongs to Emily and Gabriel.”
“They fell in love?” Emily asked in surprise.
“Very much. He returned to Maple Tree Farm every winter for the next fifty‑two years.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “What an incredible story.”
Rain turned onto the main downtown street of the town, really a small city. It was a pretty road, lined with handsome nineteenth-century limestone buildings. Since few people were out on such a miserable night, Rain was able to park close to the restaurant.
"You'll have to read the book," he said as he turned off the car.
"I’d love to read it. Do you have a copy?"
"Not yet, but I'll get you one," he promised as he opened the car door. He ran around to Emily’s side, putting up the umbrella as he went. She stood close beside him under the umbrella, her arm pressed against his, and they walked the short distance to the restaurant.
The restaurant was reached through a courtyard surrounded by stone buildings. Converted from a nineteenth-century carriage house, it had an old-world charm. In the reception area, a cheerful fire warded off the damp night. The main floor was a cozy bar, while up the stairs could be glimpsed an intimate dining area.
"Ray!" said the woman behind the reception desk enthusiastically as Rain helped Emily with her coat. “Wonderful to see you. Especially on such a miserable night. Isn’t it horrible?”
“Not my favourite weather,” said Rain. “And how are you?”
“Oh, you know me – irrepressible! Come on, your table is waiting." A waiter coming down the stairs also greeted him by name, giving Emily the impression that he was well known in this stylish rest
aurant.
But nothing prepared Emily for what was to happen next. Instead of taking them to a table for two, the hostess led them to a table where five other people already waited. And while Emily was trying to adjust to the surprise of seeing other people, the group stood up and started to applaud.
Chapter 6
Emily looked up at Rain for an answer, but he seemed to have forgotten her. Everyone was congratulating and hugging him. What’s going on? One thing was for sure – Rain had pulled a fast one on her.
Finally, he introduced her to the group. “This is Emily,” he said, then pointed out in turn, “and this is Jennifer, Sandra, Ivan, Robert, and Sergi.” Emily fought back her rising anger, put on her best smile, and shook hands with everyone.
Rain pulled out a chair for her, and she found herself seated next to Ivan and across from Sandra. Rain sat at the head of the table with Jennifer on his right and Sergi on his left. Robert sat between Sandra and Jennifer. Emily glanced over at the beautiful woman seated next to Rain and felt what she knew was jealousy - the brightest, greenest variety in existence.
The hostess returned with a bottle of champagne nestled in an ice bucket and set it on the table in front of Rain. "On the house," she said, expertly opening the bottle while a waiter set out champagne flutes. Emily scanned the other faces in the group and thought she’d go crazy if she didn’t soon find out what was going on. Why are they congratulating Rain?
"Thank you," Rain said graciously as the waitress filled their glasses. "Can you join us?"
She laughed. "I'd love to. Unfortunately, I’ve got to work."
“Too bad,” he said with one of his dazzling smiles. Emily thought she could see the waitress melt under it.
"A toast," said Ivan as he rose to his feet. "To our good friend Ray. Congratulations on your remarkable achievement. This is clearly only the beginning.” Emily joined in the toast. She sought out Rain's eye as they touched glasses and flashed what she hoped was a look that could kill. He smiled guilelessly back.
"I should tell you that Emily doesn’t have a clue what’s going on,” Rain said after everyone had taken sips and Ivan had resumed his seat. Emily inwardly fumed. "I'm afraid I've kept her completely in the dark."
“So you don’t know about Ray’s book?” Sandra asked with surprise. Emily shook her head as she tried to register what she’d just heard. “Ray wrote a book about the farm where he lives,” Sandra explained. “It’s a history, really, of the family it belonged to. The Alexanders.”
Emily tried not to let the shock of this news show on her face. Rain has written a book? On her family? Is this the book he was referring to in the car? His book?
“Emily is an Alexander,” she heard Rain announce to the table.
"One of the Alexanders?" Sandra asked as everyone at the table looked at Emily in amazement.
“That’s right,” Rain said. “Emily grew up on the farm and is the great-great-great-great granddaughter of the Emily Alexander of my book.” Sandra continued to look impressed.
Emily looked from Sandra to Rain, detecting triumph in his voice. "I wrote my PhD thesis on the history of the Alexander family,” he explained as coolly as if he were telling her what he’d eaten for lunch. “We're celebrating tonight because my thesis has just been published by a major press."
Emily wondered how many more surprises she could take. Rain had a PhD?! The same Rain who had been a farm worker all his life? The same Rain she had felt so superior to....
"Congratulations," she said finally, hoping her voice didn’t betray her inner turmoil. “I’d love to read it.” She repeated the same words she had used a lifetime ago in the car.
"Of course,” he said, feigning an English accent and speaking with mock importance. “I’ll have my agent send a signed, complimentary copy.” Everyone laughed, and Emily tried to smile convincingly.
Touché, Emily thought, wishing the champagne was a glass of straight-up scotch instead. Rain had set her up. This was why he had invited her out after she had thrown a glass of wine at him. It was revenge for suggesting he become a mechanic. What an arrogant fool she’d been! She was still mad at him for embarrassing her in front of his friends, but she knew she deserved every bit of it.
With the exception of Sergi, who had been Rain's thesis advisor and looked to be around fifty, the rest of the party were all younger than Rain, closer in age to herself. They were attractive people: confident, intelligent, gracious. There was no hint of jealousy; they revelled in Rain's success as if it were their own.
Rain's friends did their best to make her feel welcome, asking polite questions about her work and life in Toronto. Clearly Rain had never told them about their relationship. Emily, who was becoming more and more convinced that Jennifer was the girlfriend, wondered how much she knew. She also wondered what Jennifer would think if she’d known that Rain had tried to kiss her the day before. At that moment, Jennifer casually laid a hand on Rain’s arm and murmured something close to his ear. Rain nodded and smiled back at her confidingly. Jennifer glanced over at Emily and smiled, a warm friendly expression. Perhaps because it was so warm and friendly Emily felt herself freeze. Quickly she looked down at her drink, sure that Jennifer could see the conflicting emotions written all over her face.
"When was the last time you were home?" asked Sandra suddenly, jolting Emily out of her thoughts.
"About ten years," Emily answered, hoping that her voice sounded calm and that Sandra wasn’t going to ask too many questions.
"How could you stay away so long?” she asked incredulously. “It's such a wonderful place."
"Just busy, I guess.” She couldn’t help but glance up the table to Rain, where he and Jennifer were still talking in low voices.
Just then the waitress returned to top up their champagne. Rain declined, placing his hand over the glass. "Driving," he explained.
"I'll drive," Emily protested, not knowing whether she was doing this out of politeness or out of a silly desire to out-nice Rain’s friends. "This is your party, after all. Enjoy it."
"Oh, no. You're my guest. Besides, I like driving your car.” He then addressed the rest of the table. "You know, I really wanted to be a mechanic, not a writer."
Everyone laughed while Emily felt the blood rise to her face. She was just about to make a sarcastic comment when Rain smiled and winked at her. She felt her anger instantly diffuse, enjoying instead the warmth of sharing a private joke. She was blushing now for a different reason, so she turned away quickly, fumbling with her menu.
"What do you recommend?" she asked Sandra.
"The pheasant's delicious," she said helpfully. "But then I'm probably not the best person to ask, because it's the only thing I've eaten here."
"Well, it sounds good to me," Emily said, though the idea of eating at that moment was almost nauseating. Her stomach was tied in knots. She closed the menu and took another sip of champagne.
"Has Ray told you his plans for the farm?" Sandra asked.
"No," she said as she wondered at Rain’s confidence at making plans for the farm. Then again, half of it was his. Actually, all of it was his now, almost. But he didn’t know that yet. "I'm afraid we've been out of touch," she said without any hint of irony.
"A writer's retreat,” Sandra said excitedly. “He's going to build more cabins along the lake and lend them out to writers. It's a fabulous idea, isn't it?" It was obvious Sandra thought so.
"I don't know. I thought it might make a nice golf course,” Emily said, immediately regretting her words. She had only done it out of malevolence. Suddenly she resented that these people knew Rain better than she did.
Sandra laughed and called down the table to Rain. "Emily thinks you should convert the farm into a golf course."
Rain looked at Emily. It was his turn to be surprised. He knew she wanted to sell the farm, but this was the first he’d heard of the golf course. His look seemed to say So, that’s what you've been up to. Out loud he said: "Well, don't believe everything Emi
ly says. It's the Alexander family's idea of humour."
"Ray," Sandra said in exasperation. "I know a joke when I hear one. I doubt Emily's about to turn her family farm into a golf course."
Rain laughed and said, “Nothing would surprise me.” Emily was sure she was the only one who caught the irony in his voice. She bristled, wanting to retort that if the family farm was going to be converted into something other than a farm, then why not a golf course. Fortunately, Sandra saved the moment by going back to the idea of a writers’ retreat.
"Ray has it all thought out," Sandra continued. "The retreat would have a guest writer-in-residence who would lead workshops. So more than just a retreat, it would be a school as well."
"Wouldn’t that take a lot of money?” Emily asked.
"Yes, I guess it would," Sandra said as if she had never thought of this practicality before.
Emily took another sip of her drink. One published book could hardly make Rain wealthy, she thought. She listened to Sandra and Ivan discussing the details of the writers’ retreat until the food arrived.
Sandra's recommendation proved to be a good one, and Emily found she could eat after all. Ivan offered her a glass of red wine. Emily declined his offer politely; she had eaten very little in the past couple of days, and the champagne had been enough to make her feel lightheaded.
"Come on, it's a special occasion," he insisted cheerfully. "How often do you have a book written about your family? It's quite an honour."
"I don't know – is it?" Emily said, feeling irritable. Ivan's boyish good-looking face crumpled into confused embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, realizing she had been unreasonable. It wasn't Ivan who had put her in this uncomfortable position. "It's a shock, that's all. Anyway, I'll take that glass of wine after all."
Falling for Rain Page 9
