Winter Shadows

by Margaret Buffie

  Why did he come to Rupert’s Land? He shows such clear disdain for his mother, but also a kind of amused pity. Not love. Why doesn’t he go back to Scotland?

  He stood far too close to me as we added the garland to the tree. I could feel the heat of his body. Then he made me irritable by devouring most of the scones.

  Fortunately, it didn’t take long to wind the garlands through the branches, but it took much longer to place each tiny decoration. Duncan watched benevolently from a chair by the stove, where I’d ordered him to sit. I found candle-holders with metal guards that Papa had made when I was a child, which somehow missed Ivy’s sweep, and I tied them carefully to the tree. I placed small candles in each one, then commanded Duncan to tie a metal star to the highest branch.

  “We can’t light the candles yet,” I said. “For these are all I have.”

  “I will make you more,” he said.

  I saw one of the girls elbow Dilly and smile, but one narrow-eyed glance from me stopped this silliness in its tracks. When I turned quickly to tidy our clutter, my little spirit girl moved across the room toward me. Her cloud of hair seemed to fill the room. She gazed at me sadly, almost desperately. I looked at the others. No one saw her.

  She stood by our tree, looking intently at the shadow of a strange white one beside it. She looked so distressed, I walked right up to her. “What is upsetting you? Is it me?” I whispered.

  My heart stopped when I saw us both reflected in the window. Her lips moved, but I could only catch the words “It’s her.” And then she was gone. Who was she talking about? Her mother?

  “What are you seeing out that window?” Duncan murmured behind me.

  “I-I was thinking of my mother. I was thinking of Christmases past. I was thinking how long our winters are.”

  He looked at me carefully. “This is my second winter in the New World. I spent my first in Upper Canada. I hear the winters in Rupert’s Land are even colder than in York. We must do something this year to brighten up –”

  “The minister man is here. The young one,” Dilly announced, returning from refilling the teapot in the kitchen.

  I smoothed my apron. “Show him in, please, Dilly.”

  Duncan sat down and crossed his legs. Truly, his nerve is astounding at times!

  “Mr. Kilgour,” I said, “would you please help my grandmother to the kitchen? I’ll give her some dinner there later. And I will receive Mr. Dalhousie in here alone.”

  The girls scuttled toward the door after putting some of the tattered tree branches onto the fire, where they fizzed and crackled. Kilgour fussed over nôhkom until the minister walked in.

  “Dalhousie! Good to see you so soon,” called Duncan. “How is your lovely sister this morning?”

  I clenched my teeth.

  “She is rather tired, but quite well, considering. The girls you sent, Miss Alexander, are being a great help to her. “

  “Duncan, Beatrice has asked us to leave,” Grandmother said softly.

  Duncan picked her up. “Of course. Excuse us.”

  Grandmother frowned at me over his shoulder. She was trying to send me a message, but I couldn’t work out what it was.

  “Will you accept a cup of tea, Mr. Dalhousie?” I asked.

  “Thank you, Miss Alexander.” He took the cup.

  “You said you had a hymn to add to my choir’s list?”

  “I’ve decided that learning a new piece would only put more pressure on you, Miss Alexander. We have more than enough music.” He put his teacup aside. “I –” he cleared his throat, “I have another reason for coming here today. “

  “Oh, yes?”

  He seemed reluctant to speak. “I’ve decided to remain in St. Cuthbert’s just until spring. That should give the church authorities plenty of time to find a man who is right for the job.”

  Why was he telling me and not Papa, who was an elder of the church? “I’m sorry you’ll be leaving. You will disappoint so many eager mamas.” I laughed lightly, trying to imitate his sister, but failed miserably.

  “I’ve been asked by an old friend to go to the wilderness, along the northwestern coast, thousands of miles from here. There I can practice true missionary work.”

  “But how will Henrietta take to the hard travel and remote land?”

  He looked down at his hands. “If she had a kind companion, she would do well. As would I.” He cleared his throat. “I rather hoped that might be you, Miss Alexander. “

  “Me? Why me? There are young women in the parish who’d suit the role much better than I. I would not be an easy companion.”

  “You do yourself an injustice, my dear. You have integrity and compassion. I will open a school there, and I want a wife from my own church – a servant of God, like myself, ready for hardship and challenge. One who would teach alongside me.”

  “You’re asking me to come as your wife? But you hardly know me, Sir! To say nothing of your feelings for me.”

  “Surely, Beatrice – if I may call you that – a deeper affection will come to both of us in due course. I’m not wrong in thinking we like and admire each other?”

  “I do like you … er, Robert … it’s just…” But did I admire him?

  “It would be a grand adventure in God’s name for all three of us,” he said, his eyes alight. Something gave me an inner warning, but I tried to ignore it.

  I looked at my clenched hands. I was being offered an escape and was suddenly faced with a choice. A life-changing choice. But what about Grandmother? And Papa? Yes, Papa was physically stronger since my return, but …

  My mind hurtled into the future. What if I suggested making Dilly responsible for Grandmother? That might work out well. And what about your confused faith – or lack of it? my small voice asked. Perhaps my faltering beliefs would solidify and strengthen by serving others. I could keep a journal describing our journey. Perhaps have it published one day. This might be my only chance to finally leave my shadows behind.

  Duncan Kilgour’s mocking smile floated across my inner vision. He would tease me mercilessly. But Duncan Kilgour didn’t care two pins for me, any more than I – no, I wouldn’t think about him. No doubt he would up and leave this village one day with a cheery wave, and I would be even more alone.

  Robert Dalhousie broke into my tortured thoughts. “May I speak with your papa, Miss Alexander?” His thin face was guarded.

  I knew I had to confront the reality of my situation then and there. I knew there was little real hope of ever taking nôhkom to the settlement to live. It was a young girl’s romantic dream, nothing more. I would never have enough money to live an independent life – my own life.

  As if someone else were speaking the words for me, I said, “I require time to sort out how my grandmother and Papa will be taken care of. For if I agree to your proposal, Sir, I will not return to my home for many years. If their future comfort is settled, then, yes, I will give you permission to speak with Papa.”

  He bowed slightly, then began to talk to me about his new mission with an enthusiasm that I wished he had injected into his proposal. I must confess, I barely heard a word about his future plans.

  Before he left, he’d taken my hand. “I am sure your papa will not deny you this opportunity.” His fingers were cool and dry. Was his smile just a little smug?

  As the door closed behind him, my inner voice spoke up. Beatrice, Beatrice … what have you agreed to?

  26

  CASS

  Aunt Blair was turning the key in the front door when we climbed the front stairs. Once inside, she threw her coat on an old wooden pew against the wall. “Go into the living room, you two.”

  We tossed our jackets on top of hers. My old cat, Tardy, wandered into the hall, his long tail twitching. When he saw me, he leaped into my arms. I stroked his fur, holding back tears. Aunt Blair’s house always smelled of sanded wood and varnish from her private work space, beside the dining room. Tonight those odors mingled with the scent of a balsam tree, covered in t
he decorations that Blair had collected since she was a kid. The living-room floor was layered in rugs, the couch and chairs soft with down pillows. The walls were covered in watercolors and sketches she couldn’t or wouldn’t sell. Odd-shaped floor lamps with silk shades dotted the room, casting pools of low light.

  Aunt Blair clicked on the tree lights. I sat on the couch, with Tardy on my lap. Martin stood, looking at the tree. “My gran has decorations like these,” he said.

  Blair lit the fire. “One thing I can never pass up, Martin, is an old decoration. My dad made sure I always got first pick before he sold them.” The phone rang in the kitchen. “That’ll be Jonathan, Cass. I’ll make some cocoa while I’m in there.”

  She headed down the hall. I silently thanked her for not asking me to answer it. But I still needed to know why she was at Jean’s party.

  When she returned, she threw me a mohair blanket. I tucked it around me, but couldn’t stop shivering, even with Tardy’s warmth against me. I sipped the cocoa she’d made. Martin looked relaxed.

  “I told your dad to wait until later tomorrow before calling again,” Aunt Blair said. “The shops in Selkirk are open early. I’m doing my final Christmas shopping and told him I’d take you along. He said to use the credit card he gave you last week – that you might like to buy yourself a nice outfit for Christmas Day. Look, you guys talk for a bit while I make up your bed in the spare room, Cass.”

  “Dad’s just trying to make everything okay again,” I muttered. “He likes things to be swept away fast. He’s never figured out it just makes things worse.”

  “We’ll talk later,” she said as she left the room.

  Martin moved over beside me. We stared at the fire.

  “Maybe you should call your place and –”

  “I feel stupid about what I did tonight, Martin, but not enough to say sorry to Jean, okay?”

  “I wasn’t going to say that. I –”

  “I’m not sorry for what I said; I just feel stupid that I did it in front of all those people, especially about a tree.” I gulped back the quaver in my voice. “Martin, Jean told strangers about this baby at the same time she told me. Dad was too much of a coward to tell me first. I can’t go back there yet.” I swallowed my tears.

  He wrapped one hand around the back of my neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe Jean will be over with an apology tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered, “and Santa’s reindeers really can fly.”

  “What? You mean they can’t?”

  “Go home. You’re as punch-drunk as me!” My stupid tears just wouldn’t dry up. I pretended they weren’t there.

  He smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I climbed off the couch still wrapped in the soft blanket, swiped away the wet on my face, and followed him to the front door. He stepped out into the night.

  Leaning on the door frame, I said, “Thanks, Martin, for being … you know, so great. I’m not sure why you bother, when you could get Tricia to go out with you again.”

  He tapped my temple with a fingertip, his face coming closer. “I like you. I like what’s in there. Besides, you look so lost half the time; it gets to me.”

  “Glad I get to somebody. Mostly I don’t even feel like I’m here, you know?”

  “Oh, you’re very here.” He leaned closer, and I met him halfway. He tasted of cocoa and cinnamon. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned my cheek against his. “I know this baby thing is different than losing my mom, but Jean is using it to force me farther away from my dad.”

  He leaned back. “I don’t know … I guess we all have to move away from our parents a bit. Maybe so we can find someone just for us. Let’s face it, I’ve been hooked since I first saw that runny nose of yours in math class.” I hugged him again.

  A few minutes later, the twin beams of his truck swept the house, and I watched through the door window until the red taillights fluttered out of sight.

  “He seems like a really nice kid,” Blair said from a chair beside the fire.

  She was holding a glass of wine. A plate of cheese and crackers was on the table. She’d changed into jeans, a black turtleneck, and a pair of fur-lined moccasins. I noticed for the first time how skinny she was, her face all hollows and angles.

  I should have asked her if she was okay, but instead I said, “Why were you there tonight, anyway?”

  “Your dad asked me to come. He said it would be good for all of us if we met halfway. Get rid of this tension between us. That it would be good for –”

  “For me, right? For annoying, troublesome Cass? He used me as bait. And you didn’t tell him to drop dead? You know who was behind it, don’t you? Jean. She wants to get to know you so she can undercut me. And she wanted you to be there to hear all about their baby. To remind you that Mom is gone. I know you can’t stand her. I know you think she was working on Dad even when Mom was sick.”

  She held up a hand. “Not going there, Cass. I was really emotional when Fiona died.”

  “But I heard what you said when Dad told you he was going to marry Jean.”

  It was last July. Dad had invited Aunt Blair for dinner. I was glad she came … at first. Aunt Blair and Jean sat side by side, not saying much, while Dad barbecued steaks and potatoes for all of us. After dessert, he’d lifted his wineglass and said, “Here’s to my future wife, Jean. We hope to get married in a month. Lots of plans to make!”

  Aunt Blair stared at him like she was stun-gunned. She didn’t lift her glass, so Dad stood alone with his in the air.

  “Daisy, go upstairs for a bit, okay?” Jean said. Daisy looked ready to argue, but Jean repeated, “Go upstairs, please.”

  Aunt Blair motioned for me to leave as well. I went to the kitchen, then crept back and stood outside the door.

  “ … can’t be serious!” I heard Dad say.

  “It’s been barely a year since Fiona died, Jon. Have you really thought this through?”

  “Excuse me, I’m here, too,” Jean said. “You’re accusing us of having a relationship while Jon’s wife was sick? That’s simply not true.”

  “You were going out together almost as soon as she was gone,” Blair said, “but I figured Jon couldn’t cope without his wife and that you’d be there for him until his grieving was over. Mind you, I knew you were after him right from the time you first laid eyes on him. So did Fiona.”

  “What? She did not. That’s ridiculous!” Dad cried.

  “Maybe you didn’t see it, but we did. Fiona thought it was funny and that Jean was pathetic. She said you were too stressed and clued out to notice, Jon. Well, I won’t sit here and toast either of you. I don’t want any part of this.”

  I ran down the hall and up the back stairs two at a time. When I opened my bedroom door, Daisy was sitting on my bed, looking around.

  “Mom says we’ll have to share this bedroom when they get married. I have way more stuff than you. I should have this room just for me.”

  I’d headed back down the front stairs and straight outside, just in time to see my aunt drive away. She hadn’t even said good-bye. It was still light out, so I went for a long bike ride along the river, pedaling away from it all.

  Now, in the glow of her Christmas lights, I said, “But you came to Dad and Jean’s wedding. Why?”

  “To be there for you. Also to remind them that Fiona was … I don’t know … important to remember. Look, Cass, it wasn’t an easy time for anyone. I can’t say anything with certainty about what happened when your mom was sick. I’m still working through it all. I decided to go to the party tonight to see how things felt to me when you were all together.”

  I laughed. “Well, we didn’t disappoint then, did we?”

  She took a sip of wine. “I have to let it go. Accept things as they are, if I can’t change them.”

  “Let it go? Accept things as they are? Did you swallow some of Jean’s personal cliché pills? Next you’ll be talking about closure!” I cried.

  “Maybe I
already am. Cass, I’ve spent the last two years in a sad dreary place. Fiona wasn’t my identical twin, but she was my heart twin. I was the levelheaded sensible one; she was the fairy sprite. I thought she’d live forever – way past me – but that we’d be together until we were doddering old bats, no matter what. But she didn’t stay, and when she left, she took away her bright light. I was left alone in the dark. Then I cut off contact with Jon. I stopped seeing Tom Hunt – the best relationship I’d ever been in. I started taking prescription pills to try and feel better. I worked in my shop all night sometimes.”

  Why didn’t I know?

  She took another sip. “But I’ve been for help and I’m coming out of it. I’m feeling more hopeful. Or, I was until tonight.”

  “So, you’ve had shadows all around you, too.…”

  “Shadows? I guess I did. But all that time, I was being selfish, too. I left you on your own. For too long. Sure, you came over, we watched movies, we talked about books, schoolwork, and all kinds of stuff, but never about any of this. I knew you were suffering, but I couldn’t step out of my own pit and help you. I’m sorry, Cassy.”

  “Don’t feel guilty. You made things seem normal now and again for me. That’s what I wanted. But I didn’t know you were going through so much.”

  “How could you know? You were dealing with it too. But, after tonight, I feel you shouldn’t be in that toxic environment – and yet I know I have no rights – I’m not your parent.” Her voice shook. “So I guess what I’m trying to say is, if we both let your mom, Fiona, go a little, maybe we can accept that your dad has moved on and is trying to make a life –”

  “For himself!” I cried. “Not for me! You saw Jean. She hates me.” I stopped. “Wait. Daisy told me this morning that a secret was going to be announced at the party. So she knew Jean was expecting a kid. So did Dad! Why didn’t he –”

  “I don’t know, honey. That surprises me. I think maybe he only found out ahead of the party, too.”