Maud nodded.
“We have been friends since he came to Cavendish. We go to Sunday School and sing in the choir together. Mother thinks he would be a good match for me, and that I have the right temperament to be a minister’s wife.”
Maud watched as Nate and Jack stopped at the clearing to wait for Mollie, who was coming their way. When Mollie saw Clemmie, she started walking toward them, but Maud held up her hand. This was between them.
“His stepfather is a minister, but I don’t think Nate has similar aspirations,” Maud said.
Clemmie pressed her lips together. “These things could always be managed, if done in a particular fashion.”
“So what’s the warning? You want to turn him into a minister? Go ahead and try. As I said, Nate is his own man.”
Clemmie’s mask fell away. “If you and Nate continue with this courtship—”
“We aren’t courting, we are just friends!”
Clemmie breathed through her nose. “If you and Nate continue with this courtship, I will make tremendous trouble for you. He is Baptist; you are Presbyterian—God help you—and it isn’t right. He’s one of us, and we will make sure he isn’t led astray by your whims.”
Maud guffawed. “You’re overestimating my abilities.”
“Then how do you explain the name change?”
“I don’t know.” She truly didn’t. “I was as surprised as you when he told Miss Gordon. He had never said anything to me. I think he might want to connect to his father. But why would him changing his name have anything to do with me?”
“We—I—think it has something to do with his uncle the poet in Halifax.”
“Pastor Felix?”
“Yes. We—I—think it must have something to do with him.”
“While I admire his uncle’s poetry, I can’t fathom why Nate changing his name has anything to do with him—or me.”
“Don’t you see? He knows how much you enjoy all that poetry nonsense and wanted to impress you.”
Maud laughed again, but it was hollow. Would he do such a silly thing to impress her? No. She didn’t believe it.
“You are being ridiculous,” she said, and turned to go, but Clemmie grasped her arm. Maud stared at the fingers gripping her sleeve, then slowly lifted her head. It was clear from the sternness in Clemmie’s expression, she believed every word.
“You will listen to me. Be careful, Maud, or we’ll make trouble for both of you. You will not ruin this for me.”
Maud shook Clemmie’s hand off. She’d had enough of people telling her what she was supposed to do—and who she could be with. Clemmie could certainly try to get Nate, but Maud would be a dignified Presbyterian and leave this in the hands of Providence. If Clemmie and Nate were meant to be—and she highly doubted this—then God would make it so.
“Clemmie,” Maud said, “I will not allow you or anyone in your congregation to dictate who I can be friends with. As I’ve said to you three times now, Nate Lockhart is his own man and will do as he pleases, whether it be staying friends with me, or ending up with someone of your disposition.”
Clemmie scowled.
“Although, if he did end up with you, I would feel sorry for his predicament.” She turned and marched toward Mollie, took her hand, and then headed to where Nate and Jack stood in the clearing.
“What was that about?” Mollie said.
“Some nonsense,” Maud said. “I’ll tell you all the details later.”
Mollie frowned. “You promise?”
Maud nodded. “How’s your father?”
Mollie tucked her curly hair behind her ear. “He’s just tired, I think. Nothing that a little tea and sympathy won’t cure.” Then she grinned. “Come, let’s go meet our young men.”
“Yes, let’s!” And Maud made sure her laugh was loud enough that Clemmie could hear it.
CHAPTER NINE
That evening, Maud was sewing her quilt with her grandparents in the front parlor. Her grandmother was working on a piece of embroidery and her grandfather was reading the Charlottetown Patriot. Maud had to admit she enjoyed these quiet evenings with her grandparents; there was an ease in the silence of measured, productive work—particularly after the episode with Clemmie.
Since the journal incident, she and her grandparents hadn’t spoken very much, keeping their conversation to safe topics, such as the post office and household chores. It had been difficult working side by side when Maud knew how angry her grandmother was over what she had written. Nevertheless, Maud still felt betrayed.
But now, sitting in the front parlor after dinner with the quiet of their work and the fire’s light making her feel cozy and safe, she felt peaceful for the first time in a while. Maud looked down at her crazy quilt. She was working on the patch that Pensie’s mother had given her.
“Maud,” Grandma said. “There’s something we’d like to discuss with you.”
The stitches Maud had been sewing knotted. She sighed. They would have to be torn out and redone.
“We’ve been thinking that it is time you returned to your music lessons,” Grandma went on.
Maud nearly dropped her square in surprise. If Grandma was suggesting that she renew her lessons, she definitely wasn’t concerned about Maud’s friendship with Nate—she clearly hadn’t read the more recent entries about him in her journal. Maud concentrated on sewing to hide a smile. Despite the fact that her grandparents were still disappointed in her, she felt a heavy weight lift.
“I expect to hear you practice,” her grandfather said.
“Of course, Grandfather,” Maud said as she picked up her square and started removing the stitches. She couldn’t wait to write Nate and tell him.
—
The Spurrs’ gray brick house hid among a clump of trees on top of the hill, across the road from the Baptist Church and the Cavendish Hall.
The organ was proudly placed in the parlor where Mrs. Spurr conducted music lessons, adjacent to a sitting room where Nate would study. Maud’s first lesson didn’t happen until October, and when she arrived after school, Nate was already sitting in the next room, pretending to read Little Women. In her previous lessons, she had liked having him close, but now she was very conscious of his presence, and she lost all coordination.