“She wrote poetry?”
“Not quite like you.” He squeezed Maud’s hand. “She mostly imitated other people’s poems, but she also enjoyed collecting them, having people write down their own favorites. I was back from one of my trips abroad. I knew of her through the Campbells, of course, as they lived across the road from your grandpa. She was such a sweet young thing, your mother. Barely twenty when we met, and so beautiful. She loved hearing about my adventures and I loved telling her about them. I wasn’t planning on staying; I had lined up another job, but—things happened as they do—and I stayed.”
“You fell in love.”
Father was quiet for a while. “Things changed and I had to adjust.” He gave the book back.
“What happened?”
Father tapped his knee. There was something he wasn’t saying. Wouldn’t say. “Your grandparents didn’t approve of me. So we did what we had to.”
The prairie wind puffed the curtain away, revealing low gray clouds caressing the sky.
Mrs. Simpson was right: her parents had eloped.
Maud had so many more questions. Why did they have to marry so quickly? Why didn’t he ever take her with him? Why wouldn’t he fight for her now? But Father quickly stood up and kissed the top of her head. And then he was gone.
But she had gotten her answer, hadn’t she? Sometimes it’s what isn’t said in the story that gives the most answers. Mother must have truly loved Father to marry him against her parents’ wishes.
She was the daughter of people who had taken risks for love and happiness; she could live with that, even if others could not.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The end of August came. Maud had spent a busy few weeks preparing to leave, but she’d also had another writing opportunity. Mr. Maveety had been so impressed by Maud’s essay about Prince Albert, “A Western Eden,” that he agreed to publish one of her poems, “Farewell.” She had written it during one of her “2 a.m. moments” in the middle of July, when it was so hot that she couldn’t sleep. That day, she’d walked with Will and Laura down the river toward Goschen, as was their ritual. While nothing significant had been discussed, there was the mingled pleasure and sadness of a perfect moment combined with the knowledge that at this time next summer, she would be back in Cavendish.
She wrote:
Farewell, dear friends, your kindness,—
I will cherish
Among all memories sweet
Long years may pass ere once again
I’ll greet you,
Yet oft in thought we’ll meet.
She would see them again in memory, but she also knew that in memory things changed, and what she had now would never be the same.
And now here she was, finally packing up the last of her things, preparing to say goodbye to Southview. It had been a good room for her, a refuge from the rest of the house.
She had to say goodbye to Laura. She had to say goodbye to Father and Katie and Bruce. She had to say goodbye to Will. And unlike her parting from Cavendish, where a small part of her always believed she would return, she couldn’t imagine ever coming back to Prince Albert.
During the last week at Bible Study when they all stood up and sang, “God Be with You Till We Meet Again,” Maud almost couldn’t finish for the tears lodged in her throat.
Afterwards, she and Will exchanged their ten-year letters. Maud was tempted to read hers, but she quickly placed it in her trunk, out of view. Some things were better left in the unknown future.
Dr. Stovel gave her Washington Irving’s The Sketch Book and a copy of Emerson’s Essays. “Promise me you’ll keep up the writing,” he said. “I hope to buy one of your books someday.”
But an additional sadness hung over this final morning. Laura had told Maud that Mr. Pritchard had to go to Battleford, leaving Will in charge of Laurel Hill; he didn’t know if he could get away. The last time they’d seen one another was at Bible Study, and they had promised a final goodbye. Maud couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing him one last time. She finished packing slowly, hoping that perhaps if she prolonged the process, he might make it after all.
In the afternoon, Father and Mrs. Montgomery went to visit the McTaggarts, so Maud had some time alone with Laura. Alexena, Annie (who was home from teaching for the summer), and Lottie had also promised to call and say goodbye.
Laura and Maud washed up the tea dishes—for even in Maud’s final moments, Mrs. Montgomery found a way to get her to do chores—and then went to the garden and picked bouquets of mignonette, petunias, and sweet peas. They were quiet as they did this. A solemn vow of friendship was made as Laura placed her bouquet in Maud’s arms and kissed her on either cheek. Then, Maud did the same.
“You have changed me, Laura Pritchard,” Maud said. “I will never have a friend like you again.”
They hugged each other tightly, careful not to crush their precious bouquets. The comfort of Laura’s arms around her made her feel not so afraid of what lay ahead, but she desperately didn’t want to leave her dear friend behind. Maud caressed Laura’s tear-stained cheek with her thumb and kissed her softly on the lips for the last time.
In the evening, when the sun had set so it was only a faint red glow over the prairie, they sat out on Eglintoune Villa’s porch. “This will be my last prairie sunset,” she said, adding silently: I won’t get to share it with Will.
As if reading her thoughts, Laura said, “I have a letter from him. I’m supposed to give it to you in case he couldn’t come.”
Maud’s chin trembled and she swallowed. She was about to allow herself to cry when she saw him coming around the corner with a determined stride.
Maud leaped up. “Is that him?” She held herself steady.
“Do you want me to keep the letter?” Laura asked when Will breathlessly sat down beside them.
“No,” he said, taking it back. “But I don’t have much time.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s in it?” Maud said. She couldn’t believe that this would be the last time she would see him. She needed more time to say a proper farewell.
Will opened his mouth, but just then, Reverend and Mrs. Rochester came through the gate. “Hello!” the reverend said. “We wanted to make sure that we gave you a proper goodbye.”
Maud hugged them both. “It was good of you to come.”
“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Rochester said. “You were such a wonderful addition to the Bible Study. Be sure to continue your studies in Cavendish.”
“I promise,” Maud said, as she caught Will checking the angle of the sun.