“Too much excitement, I suspect,” Maud said, stirring the milk on the stove. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Sit,” she said, removing Maud’s hand from the spoon and starting to stir. “With all these children in the house, a mother always sleeps lightly.”
Maud sat down at the table. She loved this warm kitchen with its yellow wallpaper, raftered ceilings used to hang hams and cured meats, and the blue chest against the wall containing its own mysteries. When her cousin Eliza Montgomery had been left at the altar twenty years before in Park Corner, she put all of her things in it, commanding that it be locked up before she went to live in Montreal. Maud thought it had the makings of a wonderful story.
Aunt Annie poured the milk, putting two teaspoons of honey in each cup, and placed them on the table. They sat in silence. The honeyed drink and her aunt’s warm presence were the magic elixir she needed. She desperately wished she could stay, but she knew her grandparents were expecting her.
“It’s so good to see you again, Maud,” Aunt Annie said with a kind smile. And at those kind words, Maud’s eyes filled with tears; this time, she didn’t bother to hide them. Aunt Annie placed her hand over Maud’s. “You know, I’m a fine listener.” She went to the counter and took out an old tin. “Also, there’s nothing a little shortbread can’t fix.”
Maud laughed lightly through her tears. “I’ve missed your shortbread,” she said. “There’s no one who makes it better.”
“Don’t tell Mother.” Annie bit into one, chewed, and swallowed. “I’d never hear the end of it.”
When she was ready, Maud told her aunt the whole story: from the moment she had arrived in Prince Albert and Mrs. Montgomery’s terrible treatment of her, to the unruly boys in school, and on through Mr. Mustard’s tortuous courtship. She talked about Will and Laura, hoping she wouldn’t show her true feelings, but her aunt smiled in a way that told Maud she hadn’t been successful in hiding her emotions for one particular Pritchard sibling.
When Maud described her trip home, Aunt Annie gasped. “Maud!” she said. “Don’t let my mother hear this story; she’ll never forgive your father for letting you travel on your own.”
“I wasn’t on my own the whole time, only from Toronto to Ottawa—although as I’ve said, the companion he left with me wasn’t much of one.”
Maud then told her what had happened in Ottawa.
“So you’re saying that your grandpa got too busy and forgot to get someone to pick you up?” Aunt Annie said. “And then he did the same thing here?”
Maud shrugged. She knew how much Grandpa loved her; it was inconceivable that he would have completely forgotten about her.
“Grandpa complimented me on the essay I wrote for the Prince Albert Times,” she said, as a way to defend him. “He talked to a friend of his who writes for the Charlottetown Patriot, and he said that a piece on my travels from Prince Albert to Prince Edward Island would be just the thing the paper wanted.”
“We were quite impressed by the essay in the paper,” Aunt Annie said. “You described Saskatchewan so well, I feel as though I’ve been there. And it was funny.”
Maud beamed. It was wonderful to be complimented about her writing. “I took notes in my travel journal on my way back,” she continued. “Strangely enough, I was inspired by the geography book we read in Prince Albert. I’m going to write it as if I am taking the reader on a journey.”
Maud sipped her milk. It had gone cold, but was still delicious. She realized she was truly excited about this new project.
Aunt Annie was quiet for a few minutes and then said, “You will always have a home here at Park Corner. You can stay here as long as you need.” She put her hand on Maud’s arm. “But I know my parents are expecting you in Cavendish.”
“A few days, then?”
“Yes. I’ll send a letter tomorrow so that Mother and Father won’t worry. And then your Uncle John will drive you home.” She squeezed Maud’s hand lightly. “Now, finish up your milk and then it’s time for bed.”
PARK CORNER, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND SEPTEMBER 1891
CHAPTER THREE
Maud had been in Park Corner for almost a week before she allowed herself to read Will’s letter. She would be returning to Cavendish the next day, and something in her knew she had to let this final piece of Prince Albert go before she could begin again.
Sitting on the bank, she gazed out onto the pond’s shining waters. Breathing deeply, she finally opened his letter.
Wednesday, August 26, 1891
Dear Maud,
My hand is shaking so badly I can hardly hold this pen. You know I have more talent with horses than I do with words so I’m taking the same loving but firm approach with myself. Still I’ll defer to you the poet and beg you don’t judge this letter too harshly…
I don’t know if I’ll see you today so I’m writing this letter and trusted it with my sister (as with all things) to bring it to you. I’m doing everything in my power to make sure we get one last goodbye at least for now. And as you know Maud, I always keep my promises. But Father’s law comes first even before the Almighty if he had his way and so I have to tend to Laurel Hill while he goes to Battleford on business. It is good that he trusts me enough to tend to things but I wished wish it wasn’t on our final day together.
I have always been honest with you. Knowing you the past few months has been extraordinary. Had things been different, I think know we could would have had many more good times years together. Perhaps you’re laughing now, but you know we had have something special, something I’ve never had with any girl and I don’t think I ever will again.
I shall wear your ring, and one day will put it back on your finger. Until then, we I will be contented with carvings on a windowpane and a poplar tree.
I need to show you the depth of my feelings for you and the true extent of how much I adore you. But I think these words fail me.
Love,
Will
P. S. p Please forgive the mistakes. I wish you were standing here. I am always better speaking, but will strive to become better as it is our only way of correspondence…for now.
Maud folded up Will’s letter. For now. The image of him walking up the hill still haunted her. It was lovely to dream that one day they might be together, but right now they were nearly three thousand miles apart. It appeared impossible for them to ever be together again.