A popular game around school was that if you counted nine stars for nine nights in a row, the first boy who shook your hand would be the one you married. After a number of attempts, the only thing Maud and Mollie had succeeded in was laughing. It was all just as well; if they had succeeded, Maud was sure she would inevitably shake Nate’s hand, and that was the last thing she needed: as Grandma had warned her long ago, a good Presbyterian didn’t associate with Baptists, and Nate was most certainly a Baptist.
“Good day, Mollie.” Nate paused and winked at Maud, who blushed. “Polly.”
“How are things, Polly—with a y?” Jack said. Maud smiled at him. He was generally a quiet boy, but he had a solid nature, and lovely light brown hair and green eyes.
“It’s ie,” she said. “Happy to be back.”
“That’s our tree,” Mollie said, pointing to the birch tree the Four Musketeers always sat under. “Clemmie, Mamie, Nellie, and Annie are standing there on purpose.”
“We can go sit somewhere else,” Jack said.
“No,” Mollie said. “It’s the principle. We need to fight for our territory, just like when my brother thinks he can take the last piece of pie.”
Maud couldn’t quite see how pie represented one’s territory, but she understood the sentiment. “Come along, boys, we’ve got a tree to save.”
The boys casually saluted and followed a few steps behind.
“I believe you are lost,” Mollie said, approaching the girls lounging on the tree’s trunk.
“We wanted to give Maud a nice warm welcome,” Clemmie said, in a not-so-welcoming tone. “Welcome back, Maud. Did you have fun? Get some well-deserved rest and relaxation while we toiled away with Miss Robinson?”
The name of last year’s teacher made Maud want to pull the curl right out of Clemmie’s hair, but instead she took a deep breath. This called for a technique that her Aunt Annie was always recommending: you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
“Clemmie!” Maud marched right over and hugged the girl, a little too tightly. Clemmie’s whole body went rigid. “I didn’t know how much you cared!” Maud pulled away and put on her best smile.
Clemmie flushed and looked from Maud to Nate. “Will we be seeing you at choir practice tonight, Nate?”
“It’s my stepfather’s choir, Clemmie. Of course I’ll be there,” he said.
Clemmie harrumphed and marched inside with Annie, Mamie, and Nellie in tow.
“Good going, Pollie,” Mollie said.
Maud grinned. It felt good to be here, with her friends, showing Clemmie Macneill that what she said couldn’t touch her.
Mollie extended her arm. “Come. Let’s get our seats by the window.”
Taking her friend’s arm, Maud started to walk inside, but Nate moved to stop her. “Polly,” he whispered. “Do you have something for me?”
“We’re going to be late,” she said. She was having second thoughts about giving him the note. She had promised Pensie that she would be careful so she wouldn’t be sent away again. Still, she and Nate were only friends.
Oblivious, Jack had already entered school. Mollie dropped Maud’s arm and whispered, “I’ll meet you inside.”
“Have you read Undine yet?” Nate said, dangling his books loosely in front of him.
“You just gave it to me yesterday,” she said, giggling. “As the son—”
“Stepson.”
“Stepson, then, of a minister. You know one only reads the Bible or sermons on the Lord’s Day.”
Nate cleared his throat.
Was it possible for someone to have such perfect freckles?
“So.”
“So.”
“We’d better go inside.” She turned to go in, but then paused and spun back around. “I do have something for you.”
“Do you?” His ears perked up when he grinned.
Maud reached into her satchel and pulled out her copy of Little Women. “It is only fair we exchange books.” She held onto it. To lend him her favorite book was almost too intimate. She had underlined moving passages. Perhaps it would reveal too much. But she knew by the way he was looking at her now and the book in her hands that she could trust him. “This is my favorite book,” she said out loud, as if to make it clear to both of them what she was doing. “And while you might think it is silly—”
“I only said—”
“I know what you said.” She paused. “But I would like to sway your opinion.”
Their fingers brushed together as he took it. “I look forward to having it swayed,” he said.
CHAPTER FIVE
As Maud and Nate went inside, she was relieved to find that not much had changed in the new schoolhouse: five rows of desks neatly lined across the room, which smelled like sunshine, polish, and chalk. The younger children sat in the front row, while the older ones sat toward the back.
Mollie waved them over. Maud gladly took the seat beside her, and Nate took his seat beside Jack, behind them. Clemmie’s group—Annie, Mamie, and Nellie—sat in front of Maud, while Lu was in the second row with the others in her level.
Maud couldn’t believe she had been so bold, lending Nate her favorite book. Would Nate get any silly ideas? Perhaps see himself as her Laurie, the wealthy boy next door who came from away? She certainly couldn’t ask for it back now. There would be too many questions. She would put it out of her mind. But Nate joking with Jack behind her was rather distracting.
Miss Gordon turned around and clapped her hands, bringing the class to order. She wore her hair stylishly in a tight bun on top of her head, and was dressed in a long brown skirt with a matching high-necked bodice. She had nothing of Miss Robinson’s sourness, and there was a wise mischievousness about her that Maud found immediately appealing. Yes, Miss Gordon was definitely her style.
As she walked toward them, her skirt brushed the floor. “I’m looking forward to learning how to help you succeed in the future.” It felt as if her new teacher was looking directly at her.
Deep down, Maud worried that if she didn’t get married, the responsibility of taking care of her grandparents would fall to her. And while it was expected she would marry, the idea wasn’t appealing. Not right now anyway. Her Aunt Emily had appeared so tired when Maud had visited her in Malpeque, tending to her children, her husband, and her home. Maud wanted to see things, do things, and write about those things. She wasn’t sure yet how, but if Louisa May Alcott, who had fewer opportunities than she did, could do it, maybe, just maybe, Maud could write too.
“Lucy Maud Montgomery.”
Maud cleared her throat. “Present.” She paused. “But everyone calls me Maud.”
“Of course.” Miss Gordon penned something in her notebook and continued to call names. “Nathan Spurr.”
Maud couldn’t help herself; she turned around when Nate’s name was called, though she tried to not look at her copy of Little Women on his desk.
“Present.” His smile showed the completely charming space between his teeth. “But, Miss Gordon, could you please change your record to reflect a recent name change? I had hoped my mother would have spoken to you about it.”