But Maud was learning to hide her emotions, and she read her essay, proud and strong, even when it broke her. And this time, there was no standing ovation.
Mollie was upset because, as Maud had foreseen, it was impossible for the Four Musketeers to remain as they were. More than once her best friend complained about this, and Maud wondered if Mollie blamed her. Eventually, they saw less and less of Jack, and Maud couldn’t help but feel guilty about the rift she had caused.
School came to an end, which helped a bit, as Maud didn’t have to see Nate and Jack every day. Maud enjoyed her summer the best she could by doing things with her friends: berry picking with Lu, going to lectures with Pensie and Mollie. Jack and Nate were there, but they sat on the other side of the hall. She wished Nate would forgive her. He would see her and pretend she wasn’t even there. In a few weeks he was going off to college, and she would leave for Saskatchewan. She desperately wished to part as friends.
Now that travel plans had been settled, and it was clear to them that she had broken things off with Nate, her grandparents were much easier with her. Most of the summer was spent preparing for her trip, sewing clothes Maud would need. “We don’t know what they’ve got out there in the Wild West, so we’d best make sure,” Grandma said on their way to Hunter River, where they would be doing most of their shopping. It wasn’t quite as big as Charlottetown, but it was only ten miles south of Cavendish and, being a main railway stop, had the materials they needed.
Aunt Annie came to Cavendish to help Maud with her travel suit because everyone knew she had the best needlework this side of the Island and those out in Saskatchewan could not outdo her. She even convinced Grandma that it was appropriate for Maud to wear a long skirt because she was almost sixteen.
Aunt Annie also showed Maud how to dress herself now that she had to wear a more severe corset instead of just a chemise. Drawers, chemise, corset, petticoat, corset cover, bustle, underskirt, skirt, bodice, jacket, and a hat—there were so many pieces that Maud wondered how she would manage. Maud had seen Pensie dress before, of course, but now she understood why her best friend had initially complained at getting up a half hour earlier to get herself ready. Maud was going to have to get used to the weight of these new layers.
Toward the end of August, Maud was picking blueberries down by the school woods for a pie Grandma was going to bake, glad for the opportunity to take one last ramble before she left. She had allowed her hat to fall against her back, the sun stroking her skin. She was bent down, partaking of a few sweet berries, when she heard the familiar whistle.
She stopped mid-chew.
“Hello,” he said.
She swallowed, placed her hat awkwardly back on her head, and stood up. “Oh, hello.”
“Shall I walk you home as though it were old times, Polly?” he asked. “With a ‘y.’?”
She couldn’t help but smile when she heard her old nickname. “Yes, Snip.”
Nate took her basket, and then popped a few pieces of fruit into his mouth. When a smear of juice ran down his cheek, he blushed and wiped it away.
They were silent for a few steps and then he said, “So I’ll be leaving for Acadia next week.”
“Mollie told me,” Maud said. “Father wrote me there is a high school in Prince Albert, so I’ll continue my studies.”
“Do you still want to teach?”
It felt so right to walk together and talk about the future, even if the future wasn’t going to be as either one of them had imagined it.
“Miss Gordon advises it is a good profession for a woman,” she said. “And then I can write too.”
“Perhaps you’ll become famous like Louisa May Alcott,” he joked, but there was an edge to his teasing she hadn’t heard before.
“I’ll never be Alcott,” she said, suddenly wishing they hadn’t taken this walk.
When they reached the path to Maud’s grandparents’ house, he leaned against the old tree and, handing her the basket, crossed his arms over his chest. He looked at her like he had a year ago—like he could see through her. She ached for those days of friendship. Of love.
“When do you leave? I hate to think of Cavendish without you here,” he said.
“This Sunday after church, I think. It depends on whether my Uncle Cuthbert can get away. I’ll be staying with Grandpa Montgomery and then we’ll be traveling west together.”
“It sounds as though it could be quite an adventure,” he said.
“I hope so,” she said. “I need a change. I’ve disappointed—everyone.”
Nate didn’t contradict or defend her. Why would he?
He took a step forward.
“I will miss you, Maud,” he said. “That day at the Hole in the Wall.” He breathed out through his nose. “I’ve gone over what happened and it doesn’t make any sense. It all seems so sudden.”
“It was a wonderful afternoon,” she smiled back, forgetting herself.
He reached out for her hand, but she pulled back. “I see,” he said, letting his hand fall against his leg. “Can you at least tell me what happened to change your feelings? What I did?” He blinked and sniffed. If he cried now, she would let her guard down, and he would know how much she still adored him.
Why couldn’t she have loved him enough?
“It was nothing you did,” she said, finally. “But we come from different traditions and want different things. We are romantics, you and I.” It would be so easy to take his hand. But he was staying east, she was going west. She had grand plans and—as much as it pained her—they didn’t include a future with Nate Lockhart.
“Will you write to me?” she asked.
“Do you want me to?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”
He smiled, sadly. “Letter writing was something we were always good at.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
There was one more thing Maud had to do before she left Cavendish.
The night before she was due to leave, Maud and Pensie took their last walk along the shore, and Maud finally told her about what had happened with Mrs. Simpson and Mrs. Clark, and what they had said about Maud’s parents. Maud watched Pensie’s expression change from shock to sadness and then to anger.
“How could you keep something so important from me?” Pensie said.
“I was ashamed,” Maud said.
“Ashamed of your parents, or ashamed of what you thought I might say?”
Maud couldn’t answer that. As usual, Pensie could see right through her.
“Pensie,” Maud said, allowing her tears to come. “Please, forgive me. It has been such a challenging time.”
“What about your precious Mollie?” The venom in Pensie’s tone surprised Maud. She’d always suspected Pensie disliked Mollie, but she hadn’t thought she hated her.
“What about her?” Maud said.
Pensie didn’t say anything for a long while. She had turned toward the Gulf, her brown hair had come loose, and her crying mingled with the wind.