Her thoughts were disrupted when she heard her name called.
“Victoria! Victoria, is that you?”
“Aunt Sarah!” she responded before she even saw the owner of the voice, her head whipping around as she found her aunt in the crowd and then ran toward her.
Sarah looked just as Victoria remembered, with a little more gray in her hair, more lines on her face, and more plumpness in her chest and around her middle. But her eyes still sparkled, her smile still stretched from one ear to the other, and she hugged Victoria to her with the same enthusiasm she always had.
“Oh, Victoria,” Sarah exclaimed, as tears ran down her face. “You’ve become such a beautiful young woman, and so brave for escaping when you did. You’ve traveled so far — what a journey it must have been. I cannot wait to hear all about it. Come, you must meet Charlie.”
A man standing a short distance away, watching the reunion with tears in his own eyes, turned and enveloped Victoria in a hug as big as Sarah’s had been. His bushy red beard scratched the top of Victoria’s head.
“Hi Charlie, nice to meet you,” said Victoria with her face squished into the strange man’s chest. “You must be… ummm…” Victoria couldn’t figure out why Sarah hadn’t told her about the man in her letters if he was important enough to be meeting her here at the train station.
“Oh!” Sarah cut her off. “Charlie is my neighbor. He helps around the house and the yard, and he runs the general store. He offered to drive.”
Sarah had lived in Qu'Appelle since she and her husband, Albert, had immigrated years ago. Albert had been the community’s doctor with Sarah as his nurse until Albert had suddenly died after a short battle with smallpox. Sarah, never one to despair, had picked herself up, and when the new doctor came to town, she offered to continue on as nurse. After working with her efficiently for a day, the doctor had kept her on.
And now there was Charlie. Interesting. Perhaps there was more there than Sarah let on, but Victoria was content to let it be, for now at least.
“Thank you for all you’ve done, Aunt Sarah,” Victoria said, smiling at her warmly. “I could never have even imagined leaving without you.”
“I’m so happy you’re here,” said Sarah, placing her arm around her once more and squeezing. “Come, let’s get on the road. It’s not a short journey, so we should get started now to be home before dark.”
Charlie swung Victoria up into the wagon, which was attached to a pair of beautiful chestnut horses. Off they went, Victoria telling her aunt the full story — everything she had said in her letters, but now with Sarah’s arm around her and her shoulder to lean on, it seemed so much easier to let everything spill out. How angry she was at being used and at the whim of men as they played for money and power. How as a woman it seemed she would never have the freedom to make her own decisions, or live as she chose.
Sarah did everything Victoria could have asked for — patted her shoulder and gave her words of understanding. “There, there, everything’s going to be all right. And,” she added, “you did make your own decision. You’re here, are you not?”
12
The sun was setting by the time they reached the top of the valley where the road headed down into Qu'Appelle. As the wagon picked up speed when the rutted road descended toward the town, Victoria’s spirits lifted. Gone were the endless plains. Stretching out below her in the valley, the trees were emerging from their winter gloom and beginning to leaf again, in shades of green that Victoria knew would be glorious come summer. Ahead were expanses of shimmering blue water as the setting sun glistened off the calm, flat lakes.
“Why, it’s beautiful!” Victoria exclaimed.
The town itself was a hive of activity nestled between two lakes and stretches of prairie trees. Charlie soon turned down Broadway Avenue, which held nearly every building in town that wasn’t a home. The street included the general store, the doctor’s office, the post office, the inn, and a diner that turned into a saloon at night.
Sarah’s house was directly behind the doctor’s office. She and Albert had lived on the second floor of the office building when they first arrived in the town. Albert had thought of expanding his practice with another doctor, and built the small house behind the office. It proved perfect for Sarah in the following years when the new doctor came to town. As a bachelor, the office’s upper residence suited him just fine.
The town which Victoria had discovered through Sarah’s letters was coming alive before her eyes as the horses clipped down the main street. The Hudson’s Bay Company occupied the beautiful red brick building that commanded its rightful presence as the centerpiece of town, and rightly so, as it was the fur industry that had led to the creation of Qu’Appelle, Sarah told Victoria as they entered town.
Victoria couldn’t wait to explore the area, but that would come another day. She was hungry and tired and ready to stretch out and sleep in a real, soft bed, for the first time in what seemed like forever, since Victoria didn’t count the cold cot at the duke’s house as a real bed.
They stopped in front of a quaint little house, and when Sarah opened the door for her, Victoria could sense her aunt’s anticipation of her reaction. The rooms were rather small compared to what Victoria was used to, but Sarah had added many warm touches, with knitted quilts, candles, and the odd family heirloom filling the space. It made this house feel more like a home than any Victoria had lived in recently.
Sarah pointed the way to Victoria’s room as she prepared her a cup of tea. When she brought it to her, Victoria was sitting in silence on the bed. It was as though it took actually arriving, sitting here in her final destination, to realize how much her life had incredibly changed in a short time. She might never return to her home in London. Instead, it was here, in a small town in the middle of a country hardly yet settled, that she would have to create an entirely new life for herself.
“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” said Sarah, mistaking her blank expression for disappointment, “expansive ceilings and fireplaces and the like, but…”
“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Victoria said, rising and hugging her aunt. She could never repay her for all that she had done. “It’s just perfect.”
The room made her feel like she was back home — her real home, out in the country with her father. Victoria’s father, John, was bumbling yet loving, nurturing, and vastly intelligent. Her father was everything — her teacher, her father and mother, and her best friend. Her mother had spent most of her time in London and had little use for the adventures in imagination of her husband and daughter.
Aunt Sarah reminded her of Victoria’s father, and she now only wished she had come here sooner.
There was a beautiful quilt covering the bed, with a birch table beside it, and a chest of drawers in the corner topped by wood carvings that Victoria knew her uncle Albert had finished. A window overlooked the foliage behind the house. Hanging outside of the window was a box for plants once the weather warmed. It was exactly what Victoria would have built for herself, but she was too exhausted to enjoy it at the moment. Sarah must have sensed her feelings, for she soon left, and Victoria tucked herself into bed under her aunt’s warm quilt, and fell easily into a dreamless sleep.
* * *
After checking one last time on her niece to ensure that she was truly here with her and not some figment of her imagination, Sarah tidied up the kitchen and reflected on what a day it had been. It had been years — fourteen, in fact — since she had seen her niece, and yet she had come to know her so well through their correspondence over the years.
Seeing her had been almost a shock. Victoria’s character was so like her father, John, that Sarah had forgotten how much Victoria actually looked like Maxine. Although if Maxine did have anything worthy of inheritance, it certainly was her looks.
How Victoria had grown up in that household following John’s death and still turned into such a beautiful woman, inside and out, was beyond Sarah’s imagination. It did explain w
hy Victoria was always so lost in her novels. She had often written to Sarah about the characters in the books she read as if they were her best friends. It had saddened Sarah, but she had been pleased when Victoria had found a friend in the librarian to confide in.
Sarah had pleaded for years with Maxine to send Victoria to live with her, but to no avail. Maxine didn’t know if and when it would pay off to have Victoria close. And look what a mess it had all turned into.
Perhaps, Sarah thought as she absently wiped the counter where she had prepared a small snack for Victoria, she should have gone back to England to watch over her niece. But she and Albert had created such a life here. Albert’s passing had been a trial of course, but thankfully, Charlie was around to help out.
Charlie … Sarah smiled to herself. The big man was becoming dearer to her every day. She knew how he felt about her, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to take the next step with anyone quite yet. It had been two years since Albert had succumbed to his illness, but their life had been as one for so long.
Ah well, first things first, thought Sarah, as she picked up the candle and started up the stairs to her bedroom. Victoria was here now, and she would look after her before worrying about herself.
* * *
The supposedly unruly horse proved to be no match for Callum, who had grown up taming horses. Callum decided he would call him Ansgar, as he reminded him of a Celtic warrior. McLaren said he didn’t need to be called anything in particular, but for the time they would be together, anyway, Callum insisted that the horse deserved a name. A horse truly did become a partner and should be treated that way.
Callum appreciated the beauty of the valley. When they had crested the hill, his face had stretched out into a broad grin. It wasn’t the Highlands, but it wasn’t just prairie land either. It was something he could live with — for now.
The Johnsons’ inn was at the end of Broadway Street, before the turn toward the North-West Mounted Police Depot. It was perfect. He could ride out there anytime he liked without all of the townspeople watching him go.
He took Ansgar to the stable to wipe him down and found everything he needed before knocking on the boarding house door.
“Hello, sir,” said the stoutly built woman who stood on the other side. “You must be Mr. McDougall.” Callum took her outstretched hand and was treated to a strong handshake. “Come in, dear,” she said and led him inside the wood-framed building, just as strong and solid as she was.
The inn itself was bare and sparse. Off the front entrance was a large dining area, with plank benches surrounding a wooden slab. He supposed the kitchen was through the swinging door beside it. Next to the dining area was a small sitting room with a few wooden rocking chairs and table.
“Mr. Johnson and I live in the back,” said Mrs. Johnson, pointing to a door past the sitting area. “You have an emergency or need anything, holler or knock on the door. Now come on upstairs, I’ll show you to your room. All the rooms for rent are on the second level.”
Callum followed Mrs. Johnson up the winding staircase and down the hall to the last room on the second floor.
“Should have all you need. But if you’re wanting anything, come find me. Supper is at six.”
The room did have everything he needed — a bed, a chest of drawers, and a washstand in the corner. Simple but livable. Meals were three times a day.
After dinner — finally one that filled his stomach and didn’t taste too bad either — he had a drink with some of the other guests, mostly bachelors working in the fur trade. He met Daniel and Nathan, men new to the area who were affable and welcoming, staying at the boarding house as they completed homes for themselves. While Daniel was a bachelor, Nathan awaited his family. Callum was also introduced to Chester, Brandon, and Alistair, a trio who stayed close to one another. The Englishman and two Scots had arrived years before to ply their trade. Now, as the fur trade diminished, they worked as salesmen for Hudson’s Bay, selling off parcels of land. They all seemed to be bachelors and slightly nomadic, hence the rooms here.
“So, lad, what’s your interest in Qu'Appelle?” asked Alistair, suspicion in his gaze. They must not see many new arrivals. “Are ye interested in Hudson’s Bay yourself? Or is farm life your game?
“Farming,” he replied, using the story he had concocted. “I’m looking at some land nearby. I’m unsure if this is where I want to stay. Thought I’d see what the community is like, how many Scots live here, and decide before investing.”
“Well, it’s not much of an investment when it’s nearly free at ten dollars,” said Brandon, looking at him with confusion evident in his eyes.
“The investment is not the money. It’s my time and my work,” replied Callum with an easy smile. “Do I want to put everything into a place if it’s not where I want to stay?”
They continued to question Callum — where he was from, why he had come, what he was planning, and his next steps.
“Honestly, I needed a fresh start,” Callum responded to them, continuing to recite his well-rehearsed story. “There is no work in Scotland, no food. So here I am.”
He tried to turn the conversation, questioning them about their trade and their new roles, but they were more interested in him and the day’s events.
“Did ye see that lassie get off the train?” asked Alistair. “My, but she was something. There’s going to be more than a few men lined up at Sarah Carter’s door to ask the miss out for a walk around the lakes.”
“Who’s Sarah Carter?” Callum asked, keeping his tone light.
“She’s the doctor’s widow,” said Mrs. Johnson, as she came to clear the plates. “The old doctor, I should say, not the new doctor. Sarah stayed on to help Dr. Hampton.”
“And the girl?” asked Callum, pretending he was simply making conversation.
“You didn’t notice that beauty on the train here? She’s Sarah’s niece,” said Mrs. Johnson with wide eyes. “If you’re interested, you best get over there before the rest of the town sees her.”
So Victoria was here. It must have been her, as there was no one else who would be described as “that beauty” traveling to the end of the line.
“Not interested,” said Callum with a shrug of his shoulders. The rest stared at him in surprise.
“If I was thirty years younger I would be,” said Alistair with a snort.
“Worth a shot,” said Chester, a grin widening in the face that could be described as handsomely rugged. “Ye think we should head over tomorrow, Brandon?”
Brandon responded with a shrug of his own but stared into his cup.
Callum looked them over and decided he’d had enough of this conversation. He downed his drink, and headed upstairs. No matter how hard he had tried, he couldn’t help it. He saw Victoria as his.
13
The next morning after breakfast, Victoria wandered down to the general store to ask Charlie if he would mind if she borrowed one of his horses. He had no objections, and offered her a crudely drawn map of the area off his shelves. He told her she could take it, “as a personal favor, for Sarah’s niece.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, bestowing a warm smile upon him, more curious than ever of his relationship with her aunt.
He interrupted her musings to provide her with a friendly warning not to travel far or alone before she took her leave.
Victoria mounted the sorrel mare, named Star for the marking on her forehead, and led her toward the lakeshore. The horse, she realized with a laugh, was not built for speed. She was more what would be called a workhorse.
Nevertheless, the air was crisp and fresh, and a smile of contentment teased Victoria’s lips. As she failed at containing her hair in pins, she had tied it back at the nape of her neck in a shiny blue ribbon. The shoulder of her dress kept slipping. She would need new clothes that were better suited for wandering in the woods than walking through Hyde Park, she thought as she steered the horse off the road, edging closer to the lake.
She di
smounted and took her boots off, poking a toe in the water to test how cold it was. A shiver ran through her at the chill. Still too cold for a swim, though warmth ran through her at the return of the childhood memories of her father teaching her to swim in the lake near her home. She had nearly forgotten how much she had enjoyed the feeling of sliding through the cool water. How long would it be until she could attempt to swim once more?
As she was re-tying her boots, the clip-clop of horse’s hooves reached her ears, and she hurriedly stood to greet the arrival, when suddenly she caught a glimpse of just who was rounding the corner. She gasped and then slapped her hands over her mouth as she resumed her crouch beside the water’s edge. Whatever was Callum McDougall doing here? She would have thought he would be days away by now.
Callum and his horse trotted past without any sign of seeing her. Her interest piqued now, Victoria bit her bottom lip for a moment before finally scurrying forward to her horse, mounting as quickly as she was able to. If he didn’t want to tell her what he was doing here, or that he was even here in the same town, why not see for herself? She knew he wouldn’t like her spying, she thought as she urged Star down the path following after him, but it was his own fault — he should have told her his plans.
She stayed a good distance behind, which wasn’t hard as his horse seemed to have twice the conditioning as hers, as they continued another mile down the well-worn path. She lost sight of him multiple times, but the path continued only straight ahead.
Finally, Callum turned in at a large, stand-alone building, with an attached stable where he saw to his horse before proceeding inside.
Victoria had always enjoyed solving puzzles, and a good mystery was nearly as entertaining — though not quite — as a romantic novel. The fact that this mystery was the man who had captivated her attention for the past few weeks was just a coincidence, she tried to convince herself.
Callum’s Vow: The Victorian Highlanders Page 8