by Nancy M Bell
“There they are! We’ve found them!”
The cry went up as Annie followed George out of the trees unto the back lawn of the General Store. George’s fingers tightened on hers for a moment before he released her and stepped away.
“Now, there’ll be hell to pay. Begging your pardon, miss.” His jaw was clenched, his expression grim.
“It’s Annie,” she hissed. “And we’ve done nothing wrong.”
George caught her gaze and shook his head. “You know that, and I know that, but do you actually think for an instant anyone else is going to believe that? I can assure you, not your father, and certainly not Mister Miller, or Mister Munroe for that matter.” Anger and frustration darkened his eyes.
The group of people descended on them before Annie could form an answer. Peter stopped and turned back to stand beside his brother, stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets. A small figure bolted forward and slammed into Annie so hard it was all she could do to keep her footing. George’s hand on her elbow was a welcome support.
“Annie, Annie. I thought you were drownded,” Ivan sobbed into her skirts, the battered straw hat clutched in one hand. “I…I…” he hiccupped… “I went down by the river ’cause it was so hot and I found…” his voice broke on a sob. “I found your hat, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” Her little brother raised his tear blotched face to stare up at her. “I looked and looked, but you were gone.”
“Hush, hush, now. I’m fine, I didn’t drown. I didn’t even get wet, you silly.” Annie stroked his silky hair and wiped away the boy’s tears with the edge of her skirt.
“Ivan, quit this silliness. Let go of your sister and come with me.” Hetty marched up and pulled the youngster away.
“Annabel Elizabeth Regina Baldwin, you are a disgrace! You have brought shame and ridicule down on your mother and I.” Father’s fingers bit deep into her arm. The hard set of his jaw and florid complexion didn’t bode well for her.
“I’m sorry, Father.” She met his gaze squarely. “But, I didn’t do anything wrong, we just went for a float down the river, is all.”
“No wrong?” Mother’s voice rose shrilly. “Taking yourself off with two men of low birth for the whole afternoon?” Her trembling hand held a lacy white handkerchief to her mouth and then dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t know how I shall hold my head up in polite company ever again.”
“See what you have done, daughter? Not only shamed yourself by your actions, but your mother as well.”
The arrival of the Millers and Munroes saved her from digging a deeper hole for herself by offering the defense trembling on the tip of her tongue. Annie looked toward the Richardson boys, Peter’s head was drawn down into his shoulders, his eyes on the ground. George met her gaze and something passed between them but Annie wasn’t sure exactly what it was. A feeling of solidarity perhaps? Or something more?
“Stop!” The cry was wrested from her as Mister Munroe belted Peter across the shoulders and dragged him away. “George, don’t…”
The older boy leaped to his brother’s aid but was restrained by Mister Miller who was a bear of a man and easily hampered his attempt. “Nothing more than he deserves, the whelp. And nothing less than you can expect, my lad. Come along, don’t make things worse by creating a scene.” Surrounded by the Miller clan George was herded away.
“See the trouble you’ve caused? Not only for yourself but for those orphan boys as well. They can hardly be expected to know better, but you young lady, you certainly know better.” Father marched her through the crowd of onlookers, her face flaming with heat that had nothing to do with temperature.
“But Father, it isn’t fair…”
“Get in.” Father pushed her toward the back of the buckboard. “I don’t want to hear another word from you until I say you can.”
Biting her lip Annie settled in the bed of the buckboard and blinked back the tears stinging the back of her eyes. Such a lovely afternoon ruined by suspicious minds. Strong fingers pinched her side and she yelped.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Hetty hissed in her ear. “Clarence’s mother is making noises about my suitability as his bride, and all because you behaved like a trollop today. What were you thinking running off with those low bred boys? How is Father supposed to find you a suitable husband if you insist on ruining what reputation you have left?”
“Oh do be quiet, Hetty. You’re just being horrid,” Annie whispered back.
“Horrid am I? How do you think it made Father look today? What with him preaching the word of the Lord and the need for women to be virtuous and keep themselves pure for marriage. And then you, his own daughter, flaunts her wickedness in front of the whole county. It’s you who is horrid and evil.” Hetty stuck her nose in the air and joined her mother on the bench seat in front of Annie.
Annie stuck her tongue out at her sister’s backside. Beside her Ivan giggled and she shushed him with a wink.
* * *
Later that night, Annie tossed in her narrow bed being careful not to wake Rotha or Alice in the other bed. It was impossible to find a comfortable spot to lie as the cheeks of her bum were tender and hot from the attention of Father’s belt. Her face heated with humiliation and anger. She was seventeen years old now, far too old for him to take the belt to her. The idea of sneaking out of the house and running away turned itself over in her mind. But where would she go and how would she get to wherever it was she decided to go? She had no money of her own and no one in the area would hire her for fear of angering Harold Baldwin, the nearest thing the area had to a doctor and man of God. It was a whole year until next June 30th when she’d be eighteen, and even then as a woman she had to obey the male whose custody she was in. Be he father, or husband.
Her thoughts drifted to George and Peter. However much Annie felt abused it was probably nothing compared to what the brothers endured. It was a well-known fact Mister Munroe had a violent temper and didn’t hesitate to vent his spleen on those unfortunate enough to work for him. Poor Peter didn’t even have the option of leaving, he was bound to the Munroes for another three years, regardless of his age. The original agreement between the Munroes and the Barnardo Homes being renewed at the end of the original three years. At least that was what the Munroes claimed, and Annie had no idea how to verify if they were telling the truth. It just didn’t seem fair.
George might fare a little better. Mister Miller was usually a fair man, but there was no way he could turn a blind eye to their escapade. If only to save face in the eyes of the community and Father in particular. Annie thumped the pillow and turned over. We didn’t do anything wrong! What is so horrible about three friends going for a row down the river? Why should it matter that she was a girl and her friends were boys? All these pious people certainly were quick to think the worst of an innocent adventure. Minds in the gutter, no matter how Christian they bleated they were. Sleep was a long time in coming, dawn was streaking the eastern sky before she slipped into a fitful slumber.
Chapter Six
July and August moved by in a blur of activity. Annie was kept busy with weeding the large garden, canning vegetables as they became ripe, and collecting berries and fruit and jam making. If she never saw another strawberry it would be too soon. August brought more heat and humidity and no chance to sneak away for a quick dip in the river. If it wasn’t Hetty, it was Mother with their eagle eye on her. It seemed every time Annie thought to slip away someone suddenly found a chore that needed doing right this minute.
The wheat and oats were ripening, the long stems rippling in the hot breeze while the heat waves shimmered over the fields. The brilliant greens of early summer merged into the gold and yellow of late August. Father still employed the Richardson brothers to help with the harvest, but Annie was forbidden to even take water or food out to the fields where she was not allowed to go no matter how much her help might be needed. She often caught glimpses of them as she worked in the garden and wished for the opportunity to spea
k with them. If only to apologize for getting them into hot water. Given the chance Annie would have traded all the enjoyment of the day for the opportunity to have let the boys go off on their own without her. The biggest furor seemed to be because she’d gone off unchaperoned with two males her own age, the boys wouldn’t have gotten in nearly as much trouble if she hadn’t tagged along.
* * *
Annie shifted the bucket to her other hand and shoved deeper into the brush behind the house. At last she was finally allowed out of sight of the house or the watchful eyes of one of her family. Harvest was over and the chance of her running into either of the Richardsons was negligible. She sang one of her favourite songs to keep herself company and to hopefully scare off any bears that were after the same raspberries and choke cherries Annie was planning to collect. She faltered over some of the words but compensated by humming at the top of her lungs. Reaching the thicket of raspberries she set about collecting the juicy red fruit, popping only a few into her mouth. It was cooler under the trees, but her shirtwaist still stuck to her back and sweat trickled down between her breasts. Her pail was half full when she stopped to rest. Plunking herself down on a fallen tree near the berry patch, she pushed the bonnet off her head and let it hang by its straps down her back.
She couldn’t rest for too long, there was still the mail to fetch from town. Maybe there would be a letter from one of her brothers at the front in Europe. Both men went against their father’s wishes and enlisted in the Army soon after Dominion Day. The government had approved conscription which was to come into effect on August 31, 1917. Steve and Evan figured it was better to go on their own than wait to be ordered to enlist. Annie only got to read the censored missive after everyone else except Ivan had seen it. It was hard to decipher the words at times on the often mud streaked paper, and what with the huge blacked out sections which contained information the censors deemed too sensitive, the reading was more an exercise in guesswork than actually reading. Please let Steve and Evan be well, she prayed looking up at the golden streams of sunlight filtering through the green leaves above her.
The war effort had stolen most of the young men and not a few of the young women from the district. The ones who were left were mostly infirm for some reason or another, or deemed too essential to the production of food on the farms at home. Although, to her eyes there were a good number of malingerers as well. Annie sighed and got to her feet, shaking her skirts out and turning back to the berry patch. One good thing had come of it though, Father quit shoving ‘suitable young men’ at her. She shuddered at the memory of the oldest Munroe boy. No girl with a brain in her head would consider a union with Jack Munroe, he was a large and loutish as his father and his opinion on ‘wifely duties’ was well known in the community.
Granted, Father had tried to get some of the more respectable candidates to court her, but Annie rebuffed them and to be honest, the young men weren’t all that keen on the idea either. Jack Munroe had been Father’s last ditch effort to get her married off. Next June she would be eighteen. An old maid to be sure. The idea didn’t faze Annie in the least. Better to be an old maid and have at least a little say in her destiny than be the property of a bounder the likes of Jack.
Her fingers plucked the remaining fruit with an economy of motion while her thoughts wandered. It had been weeks since she’d glimpsed either of the Richardson boys. Hetty and Mother had been talking about them, she was sure, but they shut up like a steel trap the minute they realized she was within hearing distance. Still, Annie was certain Hetty mentioned Peter and looked disapproving while doing so. Heavens what could he have done that Hetty would be concerned with? Annie supposed she’d find out eventually, perhaps Mrs. Williams at the Post Office would be willing to share a little gossip? Last time she’d seen Peter was from a distance but he’d looked very thin and if she wasn’t mistaken he’d been limping. Surely, old man Munroe couldn’t still be angry over what happened on Dominion Day.
A branch snapped sharply on the other side of the wide thicket of brambles. Annie’s head shot up and she held her breath, lower lip caught in her teeth. Clutching the bucket in both hands she turned toward the sound as quietly as possible. Nothing out of the ordinary met her gaze. Above her the leaves whispered in the light breeze which blew away from her, bird song and the chuck-chuck of squirrels continued uninterrupted. Convinced she must have been imagining things Annie let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and bent to her task again.
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” The sharp thorns of the brambles snagged in her sleeve and skirts when she leaned further into the thicket to reach a bunch of elusive raspberries. Yanking herself free she looked up straight into the eyes of a black bear on the other side of the bramble patch. Okay, so not imagining things. Her lips were numb and the pail rattled in her grasp. Back away, back away. Moving with infinite care, Annie extracted herself from the arching canes and backed away. The bear seemed more interested in cleaning the patch of its bounty than it was in the fact a human was present. Her heart rate kicked up a notch at the appearance of two half-grown cubs waddling out to join the feast. The pulse beating in her ears was so loud Annie was sure the bear could hear it. She swallowed past her dry throat and continued backing away. Once she deemed a safe distance was gained she turned and hurried as fast as her shaking legs would carry her, throwing constant glances over her shoulder.
She burst from the bush onto the grassy verge of Mother’s flower garden and paused to catch her breath. At least the pail of berries was intact, she hadn’t managed to spill them in her haste, so at least she wouldn’t have to hear the lecture about the need to put preserves up for the coming winter months. Already, the still warm air had the intoxicating edge to it that heralded the beginning of autumn. Annie turned her face to the sunlit sky and let the anxiety flow out of her. It only lasted a moment before she returned to the task at hand. Opening the garden gate she followed the sandy path toward the back door. Nodding heads of blessed thistle and fireweed reminded her of the need to get spade and basket and take care of weeding. Another chore Mother pressed on her in punishment for her foolhardy actions in July. Wasn’t foolhardy at all. It was one of the best days of my life. Annie frowned at the heavy headed roses that Mother favoured, the woman insisted on coddling them along even though they thrived much better in the Ireland of her youth than they did in the back woods of Ontario. And it’s my fingers the thorns prick, not hers, she thought bitterly.
Reaching the house, Annie pulled open the screen door and entered the kitchen. Bread was rising on the counter, the yeasty scent tantalizing her nose and making her mouth water. Placing the pail of berries on the table she found the canning pot and went to the pump to fill it with water. She set it beside the pail and began the tedious job of cleaning the fruit prior to starting the jam making. Glancing into her pail she wondered if there were enough to indulge in the luxury of a raspberry pie, or maybe some tarts. She sighed in resignation, that would be Mother’s decision, not hers at any rate.
“There you are finally,” Hetty observed from the door of the hall. “Father wants you to go and fetch the mail. Leave that til later.” She waved a hand at the berries.
Annie shrugged and got to her feet. “I need to wash and change my clothes before I go to town.”
“See that you don’t take all day. Ivan is harnessing Molly and you know how she fusses if she has to stand.” Hetty dismissed her sister with haughty flip of her hand.
Annie moved past her and took the stairs to her room two at a time, skirts bundled above her knees. She reached the landing and settled her skirts just as her mother emerged from the front bedroom. “I’m just getting respectable before I go into town for the mail.” Annie forestalled the criticism that was on the tip of the woman’s tongue. Instead Ella Baldwin clicked her tongue in despair at the state of her youngest daughter’s clothes. “How you ever expect to find a suitable arrangement…” she began and then shook her head before continuing past her and down
the stairs.
“What if I don’t want a ‘suitable arrangement’,” Annie muttered shoving her door open. It took only a few minutes to tidy herself before she hurried back out. “I coming,” she called to Ivan. Pulling the door shut behind her, she crossed the porch and in a most unladylike manner took the three steps in one leap. “Move over,” she commanded her little brother who was sitting square in the middle of the buggy seat with the lines clutched in his hands.
“I want to drive.” His lip stuck out in rebellion.
“You know Father said you have to wait until you’re twelve before you can drive Molly off the farm.” Annie moved him over by simply clambering onto the seat and shoving him over, wresting the lines from his hands.
Ivan huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, shoulders hunched in anger. Annie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a pang of sympathy rearing its head. The boy was painfully conscientious when it came to his chores, and now that Steve and Evan were overseas fighting the Huns poor Ivan tried valiantly to fill his older brothers’ shoes.
“Git up.” Annie clucked to the mare and slapped the lines lightly on her rump. The mare snorted and shook her head, making the harness jangle. She expertly turned the horse and buggy and set off down the lane toward the main road. Turning onto the dirt track, she urged the horse into a jog. Any faster and she feared she’d bounce right off the seat. Father’s buggy was better than some but the suspension still left a lot to be desired. Ivan clung to the iron rail on his side and giggled.
Annie had another reason other than speed to keep a brisk pace, the flies were vicious and even Molly was quite happy to hurry as the road ran through the thick bush on either side.
“Can’t I drive, please?” Ivan looked at her with the expression that always melted her heart. “Please?”