Father ignored his remark. “Things are about to move in our favor, Maudie. You’ll see.” Maud was quiet. Father appeared to be all set up in Prince Albert with a new family and new opportunities. Perhaps this “New Eden” would favor her as well.
The three men continued to talk about the expansion and the railroad while Maud took in her new surroundings. A warm sun guided them through rolling prairie hills blanketed in wild flowers and bluebells. Mr. McTaggart told Maud and Grandpa he had moved to Prince Albert with his second wife and children four years ago. Maud couldn’t decide if she liked him or not—he certainly enjoyed hearing himself talk—but she was so tired she was happy to let him.
In the mid-afternoon, they arrived in Prince Albert. Mr. McTaggart pointed out his white-painted two-storey home on the top of the hill, just on the edge of the town. It appeared to be a friendly sort of place. “We call our home Riverview,” Mr. McTaggart said, “because it has a lovely view of the Saskatchewan River from our front window. You can see all the way down the hill.”
As they drove slowly down the hill on Central Avenue, she gasped in delight. Prince Albert was built on several natural terraces along the riverbank, with hills sloping back over the rolling prairies, peppered with groves of willow and poplar trees and tiny blue lakelets. It certainly didn’t have Cavendish’s traveled roads and ancient trees, but it did have a quaint, medieval quality.
As they traveled down Main Street, Father said, “And there it is, Eglintoune Villa.” The house had two storeys, with a porch on the left-hand side, a white picket fence around it, and a tin dog perched upon the front gate. It was much newer than her grandparents’ home, or most of the homes on the north shore. It faced the manse and Prince Albert’s St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church. According to Mr. McTaggart, the Presbyterian Church owned much of the property in Prince Albert, with the Hudson’s Bay Company still trading on the land east toward Goschen. A number of people were congregating in front of Eglintoune Villa waiting to greet them.
“Welcome,” her father said. As he helped Maud out of the cart, she made note of the small yellow house next door with a porch, which, much like everything else in town, faced the river. Two young people and a woman around Aunt Annie’s age sat looking out at their arrival.
“Next door is the Kennedy residence; they’re related to the Pritchards,” Father said, noticing where she was looking. “That’s Laura Pritchard on the stoop with her brother, Will. They’re about your age, Maudie. Their father, Richard Pritchard, was the one who drove me to Regina. He owns a homestead and ranch outside of town near Maiden Lake.”
Following her father and grandpa to the house, Maud glanced over at the Pritchards, who stopped talking and raised their hands to greet her. Maud wasn’t used to people living so close to one another, and her hands were full with her bag, so she gave them what she hoped was a friendly nod. In Cavendish, although it seemed so small, there were a few acres between farms. It seemed strange to see other people on their porches, so close together. She felt rather exposed.
As Maud followed her father through the gate, both siblings stared at her. Maud looked away and then, after a few moments, heard the girl laugh. She hoped that they weren’t laughing at her. Maybe they had somehow heard what she had done in Cavendish and were judging her. Would Father have told his new wife all about it, who, in turn, told the neighbors? Father hadn’t even mentioned Nate, or the real reason she was here. Who knew what he thought of her?
Father pushed the gate open and guided Maud toward the house. She turned away from the Pritchards and recognized her stepmother from the wedding picture. The little girl, who Maud assumed was her sister, Katie, hid in her mother’s light green skirt. Maud’s new stepmother was a few inches taller than Maud and stood so erect that it seemed as though she was waiting for judgment day. Father had written that her stepmother preferred to be called “Mamma.” Maud felt a little old to be doing so, but she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. Mamma didn’t appear to be much older than Miss Gordon, about twenty-five or twenty-six, and wore a plain black chemise, which stretched slightly over her stomach, with pretty embroidery along the sleeves.
“You must be tired after your long trip, Maud,” Mamma said, after giving her a light hug. “I remember being so exhausted when I arrived here, and that was just from Ontario. You have traveled so much farther.”
“Maudie was a good traveler,” Grandpa said, shaking Mamma’s hand.
“I’m sure,” Mamma said in a tone that indicated she wasn’t convinced of any of Maud’s talents. Maybe it was just nerves. It isn’t every day one meets a stepdaughter. Katie extended her arms and called for Father. “This is Katie,” Father said, lifting her up.
“Hello, Katie,” Maud said. Katie had angel curls of the palest gold and the same cobalt-blue eyes as Father. The little girl hid her face in her father’s chest, and then she threw back her head and laughed in sheer delight as he swung her around. Maud gazed at the river, ignoring a prickling feeling in her throat. Father used to twirl her around when she was small.
She focused on the wind and the river. She had never been anyone’s older sister; she had never been anyone’s sibling. In Cavendish, Maud had felt like she was always a visitor, some sort of distant relative. Even with the Campbells, who adored her, Maud felt like she was a guest: not really a member of the close-knit group of cousins.
“We’ll be the best of friends.” She tickled Katie’s ankle and the little girl giggled.
Except for Mamma, who seemed a bit subdued, Maud’s stepmother’s family, the McTaggarts, were all cut from the same cloth, loud and opinionated, each talking over the other. It was all so removed from the quiet reserve of the Macneill clan; even the jovial Montgomerys weren’t as overbearing. But she liked Mrs. Mary McTaggart—Mamma’s mother—who made sure Maud had a place to sit and a nice piece of pie. “I remember how I felt when I first arrived here. Plain worn out.”
The hired girl, whom Maud heard Mamma call Edith, helped with the serving, but as the room filled with conversation and references to people and places Maud didn’t know, her head clouded over and it all became a maze of noise. It was clear the town had its own version of the clans: the McTaggarts and Pritchards, as well as one of the founding families, the Agnews, who ran a hardware store in town. Maud wasn’t sure where she would fit in to this new community.
Finally, one by one, they all said good night and Father instructed Edith to take Maud upstairs.