But as they left, Alexena and Lottie came with Frank. She would never forget how Frank and Mr. Mustard had come to blows. They all tried to stay positive, teasing Maud about going back to the quiet of Prince Edward Island after life as a pioneer. Will tapped his fingers impatiently against his worn brown pants. The sun had almost disappeared. He would have to leave soon.
Finally, everyone but Laura—who stood an appropriate distance away—left.
Will pulled out the letter.
“I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it, what with Father away—”
“Laura told me.”
He pressed the letter into her hand. “Something to entertain you on the train.”
Maud traced the ring on his finger. Her ring.
“Maud.”
“Don’t say any more. Not now,” she said.
And his lips were on hers. She grabbed his auburn hair and caressed his back, memorizing the way his strong but gentle fingers felt against her neck, the way his kisses tasted like home.
After a while, he reluctantly pulled back. “I have to go,” he said, kissing her forehead.
She took his hand.
Laura emerged from the dark and the three walked silently to the gate. On the other side, they let go of each other’s hands.
Laura said goodbye, as she had promised her aunt she would help with dinner, telling Maud she would see her later that evening at the train station.
Maud stopped at the corner where Eglintoune Villa stood. The stars were just starting to shine in the clear August sky. She wanted to memorize everything she loved about Prince Albert in this moment. The way the prairie wind touched her cheek. The sloping hills and the sparkling river. She wanted to stand there with Will forever.
“Well,” Will said, his voice shaking. “Goodbye.” He held out his hand, and she took it. “Don’t…forget…me—us.”
How well their hands intertwined, the poet and the farmer, with her gold ring always connecting them. She was glad to be leaving it behind, with him.
“I’ll never forget you,” she said.
One last kiss. Couldn’t she? Dare she?
“Goodbye,” she said.
Their hands fell apart.
“Goodbye, Maud,” he said.
Will Pritchard walked away.
Maud was numb, her mind silent. Her heart screamed to run after him, call his name. Something.
But she stood there instead, watching him disappear up the hill.
BOOK THREE
Maud of the Island
1891–1892
…our long journey is over at last and our destination reached. And as our feet press the dear red soil once more we exclaim, with heart-felt delight:-
‘This is my own, my native land.’
—L.M. Montgomery, “From Prince Albert to P.E. Island”
KENSINGTON STATION, KENSINGTON, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND SEPTEMBER 1891
CHAPTER ONE
Maud’s thumb rubbed against her naked index finger as she waited, her back pressed firmly against the wall of Kensington Station. She was oddly grateful that the bustle had gone out of fashion again so she could sit with ease.
Grandpa Montgomery hadn’t specified who was coming to get her; she had assumed it would be one of her uncles. But she’d been sitting at the station for two hours now, and no one had arrived or sent a message, and she was beginning to wonder if anyone was coming.
Her new dark mauve travel suit, purchased at Andrew’s store (while Laura flirted with him), was dusty from the long trip, and the adventurous spirit Maud had tried invoking when she left Prince Albert had completely abandoned her.
Maud had believed she understood loss, even what it meant to have one’s heart disappointed in love. But as she sat in Kensington Station, the cool afternoon air brushing against her skin and the sun splitting shadows in the red earth, Maud realized she had not known true pain until now.
The long, dreadful farewell. The memory of Will fading away up that hill.
Why hadn’t she called after him?
It had been so different from the other warm, tearful farewells she had experienced upon leaving Prince Albert.
Thankfully, Mrs. Montgomery had decided to stay behind at Eglintoune Villa. Maud had nothing more to say, and couldn’t even feign sorrow at parting. Purely for Father’s sake, Maud went to the kitchen to say goodbye. Mrs. Montgomery was having tea, blankly staring out the window into the yard.
Maud cleared her throat. “I’m leaving now,” she said. She knew her grandmother would have expected her to show gratitude for the room and board, but Maud couldn’t will the words. Mrs. Montgomery sipped her tea and said nothing. She didn’t even turn around. Without another word, Maud left that woman behind.
Maud then went upstairs to kiss a sleeping Bruce good night; she wondered if he would remember his big sister. Katie, however, had refused to go to bed, and made such a fuss Father brought her to the train station where all of Maud’s friends had come for one final goodbye.
When it was time to go, Maud picked up Katie, who was getting a bit too big for such things, and brought her over to one of the benches.
“It’s going to be all right, Katie,” she said, lying to them both. “We’ll see each other again.”
“Promise.”
Maud didn’t promise, as she knew the importance of not making vows one couldn’t keep, but she kissed her sister’s forehead and promised that she would write soon.
After the ordeal, she said goodbye to Father, who hugged her tightly. There was regret in his tone as he wished her “a safe journey.”
And although she knew better, Maud couldn’t help but keep looking for Will. Laura, knowing, as she always did, gave Maud a sympathetic hug and kiss that was “from both of them.” A last-minute miracle was not to be. Will’s father needed him, and the patriarch’s word was law.
—
Maud might as well have been traveling on her own. When she and Eddie arrived in Fort William, Ontario, five excruciatingly long days later, and were forced to wait overnight, Maud had asked Eddie what they should do, but he simply stood there, saying nothing.
Maud refused to, as Mollie would say, “stand around like cattle waiting to be wrangled,” and took control. She had already met another Islander onboard, Mr. Porter, and so she asked him if there was anywhere she could stay for the night. With an apologetic smile, he suggested that the Avenue Hotel was the least dreadful option.
The least dreadful option. If the Avenue Hotel was the most decent place to stay, then Fort William had much work to do. Although with the mountains and groves it was rather pretty, the town was still developing. The streets were littered with tree stumps, and Maud came upon more than a few pigs. However, sometimes one had to make sacrifices, so Maud thanked Mr. Porter, and she and Eddie went to the Avenue Hotel.
Maud almost wept when she saw it. The place was dark, dilapidated, and overcrowded.
“We have a room at the top of the stairs, Miss Montgomery,” said a worn-out woman who desperately needed a bath. “And, you, Sir, can share with one of the men.”