by Nancy M Bell
“Hello, Apple Tree Man,” she said and laughed at her own foolishness.
“Annie?” A figure disengaged itself from the shifting shadows.
“Oh! My, I didn’t see you there. George, is that you?” Annie took a step back, just in case she needed to beat a hasty retreat. The last thing she wanted was to run into one of the guests who were in their cups.
“It’s me, Annie. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” George moved out of the darkness into the small patch of pale moonlight between the trees.
“It took longer than I planned to get free, and I had the chores to tend to,” she replied, holding her breath and daring to move closer to him.
“I’m right glad you came,” he sounded a bit breathless.
“Me, too. I’ve hardly even seen you since…well…you know…”
“Did you get in much trouble?”
George started to wander between the rows of trees and Annie followed in silent accord. The cricket chorus was background music to the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the call of the whippoorwills. The night wrapped them in black velvet lighting their way over the grass glistening with dew in the starlight. A million thoughts whirled in Annie’s head but she was loath to break the silence and shatter the spell that seemed to have enthralled her. George’s shoulder brushed against her for a moment and her heart skipped a beat and breath caught in her throat. She glanced up at him to find him smiling at her, teeth shining in the faint light, an enigmatic expression on his earnest face. Annie found herself smiling in return and when he took her hand she didn’t hesitate or pull away. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to stroll through the abandoned orchard while the stars wheeled overhead.
They reached the edge of the bush and halted. Enchanted evening or not, there was no way Annie was going to go walking in the bush at night. Not without a shotgun and a lantern at any rate, and then only if the cows had gotten out again.
George pulled her down beside him on a fallen tree, not relinquishing his hold on her hand. Her fingers twined with his, she tipped her face up to look at him. His features were in shadow and he suddenly looked like a stranger to her. A thrill of fear speared down her spine, the night suddenly filled with danger.
“Annie,” he whispered, raising a hand to touch her cheek. His voice dispelled the sensation of strangeness replacing it with another emotion altogether.
She covered his hand with hers, fingertips finding the rough calluses on his workman’s hands. “What happened to Peter?” Annie uttered the first thing that came to mind, anything to distract her from the excitement gathering in her belly that she somehow knew her parents wouldn’t approve of. Though she couldn’t have told why she thought that.
George’s expression changed and he dropped his hand from her face. Though he still held her fingers in his, she felt he had withdrawn from her even though the warmth of his thigh still penetrated her skirts.
“What is it? What happened?” Any other emotion was forgotten in the face of her companion’s obvious distress. “Was it my fault? Because of what we did on Dominion Day?” She freed a hand from his grip and pressed it to her throat.
“Aye, in a way, I guess it was. ’Twas the straw that broke the camel’s back at any rate.” He paused and stared out into the shadowy orchard where the trees threw faint images across the wet grass.
“Was Mister Munroe awful mean to him? Oh, I couldn’t bear it if he was beaten because of me.”
“It weren’t the first time he got his arse scalped and it weren’t the last. Munroe always seemed to be looking for a reason to lay into him, and nothing I could do to stop it.” George’s fist clenched on his thigh, impulsively she laid her hand over it and squeezed.
“What happened, George? You can tell me, I won’t breathe a word to anyone. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Annie suited action to words.
A grim smile twisted his lips. “Weren’t your fault. If anything ‘twas mine. I should have known better, should have thought about the consequences. Instead all I could think of was spending time with you.” He bit his lip as if he’d said more than he intended to.
“I wanted to spend time with you too, so that makes me responsible too,” she confessed.
The boy beside her fell silent for so long Annie feared he wasn’t going to tell her where Peter was and what happened to him. Morbid thoughts chased around her head and she was more than half afraid to hear the truth of the matter. What if he was dead? Or maimed?
“Peter’s gone.”
The flat finality of the words startled her so she almost slipped off the log.
“What?”
“He’s gone. My little brother’s gone, again. We got separated in the foundling home in Liverpool. I got shipped to Canada and thought I’d never see him again, but somehow God arranged for Peter to get shipped here too and placed near enough we could see each other. Now he’s gone again…” His voice broke and moisture glistened on his cheek.
Annie moved without thinking and cupped his face in her hands. “Tell me what happened, George. Let me share your burden, help you if I can.” He pressed his cheek against her hand and blinked.
“Peter’s gone and joined up. Went to the Recruitment Office in Eganville and volunteered. Nothing Munro could do to stop him what with Petey supporting the cause and all.”
“Why would he do that? I mean, he didn’t have to being a farm labourer and all. Father tried to keep Steve and Evan home but they were bound to go. From the letters they send it doesn’t sound like being in Belgium is a bowl of cherries. It’s hard to tell what with the censor’s black marks all over the paper.”
“He went because he couldn’t stand staying another minute at Munroes. The old man about beat the skin off him and he vowed he’d not go back. But you know our situation, we got nothing but the clothes on our backs and those we’re beholden to our masters for. There was nowhere for him to go and no money to get there if there were a place.” George’s faced twisted bitterly.
“But surely, there was money set aside from the work he did, I mean he did the work to cover his keep at Munroes, but then he worked all over the county too—”
“And not a penny of it do we see, Annie. We’re nothing more than rented mules and not as valuable as all that.”
“But, he’s safe right? Is he in Toronto, or Kingston? Where did they send him…” Annie faltered at the bleak look on her companion’s face. Her hands fell to her lap where she clasped them together.
“He’s overseas. Near as I can figure he’s in France somewheres. I haven’t had a letter from him yet, just the one right after he enlisted and told me he was getting on a troopship to London and then on to France.”
“Oh my stars! You must be worried sick.”
“I am that. I’m his older brother, dammit.” He smote the log with his fist. “Begging your pardon for my language.” George tipped his head in her direction. “I should be able to protect him and there’s nothing I can do. I feel so…useless!”
“I can’t even begin to imagine,” Annie found herself saying. “It would be like Ivan going to war. I don’t think I could stand it.”
“Well and all, it doesn’t seem I have any choice but to stand it,” his voice was grim.
Annie was at a loss for words and the silence stretched between them like an overtight elastic band. An owl hooted in the maple trees and she started to her feet, heart racing. “How silly of me,” she gasped and made to sit back down.
“No, it’s far past time we were going back.” His words kept her on her feet. “Someone will no doubt be looking for you by this time.” A frown creased his brow.
“Probably not, they’ll be far too busy arranging the chivary and planning mischief. I don’t want to go back yet, it’s so peaceful here.” She boldly reached out took his hand, when he didn’t protest Annie led him back into the orchard, smiling at the tracks they left in the dew wet grasses.
“What are you going to do? Are you planning on volunteering as
well?” She tilted her head up at him.
“Can’t. I’m still tied to the Miller’s. I promised I’d stay for another six months. I can’t in all honour break my word. It’s about all I’ve got, that and what little pride I have left.”
“So, you’ll be around? We can still see each other once in a while?” Annie quivered at the forwardness of her words. Mother would have kittens if she ever found out her youngest daughter had been so bold, and with someone so far below her social standing. She snorted and kicked at a mushroom. Social standing be damned! George is far nicer than those fellows Father wants me to walk out with. It’s my life. I should be able to do what I want!
“What are you snorting at, Annie?” George’s expression lightened and the beginnings of a real smile twitched at the corners of his lips.
“Nothing, really. Just all this silliness about not marrying beneath yourself and damned if you actually even like the person they want you to spend the rest of your life with.” She paused and swung his hand gently. “You never answered me. We can still see each other can’t we?”
“I’d like nothing better, surely you know that.” The intense look on his face set her heart racing and heat flooding her body. “But I can’t see how. Mister Baldwin would pin my hide to barn door if he caught me sniffing around his daughter.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to know, does he?”
“What?” George stopped walking and turned to look down at her.
“With Steve and Evan gone, I have to go bring the cows in out of the bottom field every morning and night for milking. I’d be missed if I loitered in the morning, but in the evening it’s just me doing the milking and shutting up the chickens, sheep, and pigs. It’s usually just coming dark by the time I’m finished. If you can get away, meet me by the big stand of pines on the bank above the cedar swamp. The cows generally go that way for some reason. It wouldn’t be for long, but at least I could see you and know you were doing okay. What do you say?” She tipped her head back and to her dismay the last of the pins slipped from her hair which cascaded over her shoulders.
George caught his bottom lip in his teeth and reached a tentative hand to smooth the shining blonde strands back from her face. “It’s risky. More for you than me. I have no reputation to speak of, you on the other hand, have a lot more to lose. Your Father is correct, you know. No decent man will have you if your reputation is lost.” Starlight gleamed in his grey eyes.
“Are you not a decent man, then?” Annie whispered and leaned closer to him, one hand coming to rest on the rough material of his shirt. His heart thumped under her fingertips, drumming as fast as her own.
“It’s fire we’re playing with, Annie,” his voice went husky and he cleared his throat.
“Aren’t you a decent man?” she repeated. “Would you not have me, reputation or no?”
“We shouldn’t do this. It isn’t right and it isn’t fair. To me or to you.” George took both her hands in his and set her away from him. Raising their joined hands he kissed her knuckles, the rough hair of his moustache tickling her fingers.
“Will you meet me in the evenings when you can?” she persisted, running her tongue over her dry lips. Her gaze riveted to the column of his throat where it rose out of his open collar. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.
“God help me, I will, Annie,” he whispered.
Without another word he led her back to the edge of the orchard, pausing in the last of the shadows. She opened her mouth to speak but he laid a finger over her lips and shook his head. “‘Tis better this way.” He kissed her fingers before releasing her hands. “I will come when I can, but it won’t be every night,” he cautioned.
Annie glanced down at her clasped hands, the imprint of his mouth burning her skin. When she looked up a moment later she was alone.
Chapter Eight
The low winter sun bathed the snow in a red-orange glow and touched the bare trees with gold. Annie’s breath puffed out before her as she struggled to wade through the knee deep snow. Where were those blasted cows? She’d searched all their usual haunts when they managed to knock down the cedar rail snake fence. Today they’d simply walked over the top of it where this afternoon’s wind piled the drift high and hard enough to make easy passage.
She glanced at the sun. If they didn’t miraculously appear soon she’d have to leave them. Father would be livid, but there was no way Annie wished to be caught in the wintery bush after sunset. The moon was full and the chorus hunting wolves had serenaded her for the past two nights while she lay with the quilts pulled up to her nose in bed.
Sighing, she stopped on the edge of the gully where the small creek lay frozen below. No sign of the five cows she was searching for. Thank heavens for small mercies the bull was in the barn and so she wasn’t also dealing with his fractious nature. Most of the time the animal was quite tractable for her, but in the bush with his harem…? Annie shook her head. Quit woolgathering, girl. Or you will be wolf bait. She let go of the trunk of the maple sapling she was using to balance and stepped back. The wind changed and she froze. Is that them? Is that Sally’s bell?
The evening wind carried the distinct, but faint, clang of a cow bell. Annie frowned, they never went east when they went on a ramble, especially in the winter. Setting her jaw, she turned her footsteps toward the sound. Now she’d found a trace of the missing animals she couldn’t very well in all good faith head for home. Although that was exactly what her frozen fingers and toes were urging her to do. Wrapping the scarf tighter around her neck and lower face she set off.
A branch sprang back at her and slapped her cold cheek. Uttering words which would earn her a beating if Father ever heard her, Annie blinked back the sting of tears and plowed on. If only Steve and Evan were home she wouldn’t be out in the rapidly darkening woods on her own. Ivan was helping search but only closer to the house. Why couldn’t the stupid war in Europe just end? Annie missed her brothers more than she ever thought she would and not just because they made her lot in life easier. She forced herself to keep moving, distracting herself with thoughts of the war and her brothers. Evan’s last letter had the return address of a convalescent home, he said he was fine but had come down with the influenza that seemed to be running rampant through the wet muddy trenches in Belgium and France. Some associates of Father’s in London had sent some newspapers with their last post. Of course they made the whole affair seem much more glory filled than it was, but Father said if you read between the lines and what they weren’t saying you could determine a great deal.
A loud moo startled Annie so she nearly tripped and landed on her bum. Only by grasping a young birch sapling did she manage to avoid falling. However, the tree did dump its small load of snow on her head. Yelping, she jumped back and beat the wet snow from her coat and scarf. The light was fading and the bush was full of deepening shadow. The cow mooed again and she turned in that direction. In a few minutes she came across the track the silly things had beaten in the snow. Moving quicker on the easier going Annie called for the herd. If she was lucky they would be cold and hungry and quite tired of their adventure and happy to come to a familiar voice. Only Sally and Maud were still milking, but their udders should be making their demands made by now too. Another point in Annie’s favour.
Shoving through some serviceberry bushes she emerged into a bit of a clearing. Releasing a sigh of relief at the sight of all five missing bovines, she spread her arms and began herding them back toward the barnyard. The sun was mostly behind the trees and low hills but there was still enough light in the sky for her to determine which way was home. A long shivering howl rose into the clear royal blue heavens which was answered by another and then another.
“C’mon, girls. Get moving unless you’d rather be somebody’s dinner.” She waved her arms and the cattle obligingly moved off toward home. Annie smiled, their sense of direction when it came to food and home was probably more finally honed than her own. Although, left on their own they would have sta
yed where they were waiting for someone to come find them and urge them home.
“Need some help?” George’s voice sounded from the deep shadow just to the right of the trail.
“George? Is that you?” Annie couldn’t keep the breathlessness sound from her voice. “You scared the life out of me,” she declared coming even with him. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Ivan told me which way you were planning to go.” He fell into step beside her, the cows moving ahead of them at a quicker pace now.
“You went to the house? Was that wise?” She frowned at him.
“Just by luck Mister Miller sent me with a message for your father. It was fairly late when I arrived and Ivan was just coming in from the bush. Mister Baldwin was worried for you and I volunteered to go out and look for you. Your mother didn’t want him out in the dark with that cold he has.”
“Well, I’m glad it was you who found me. Go on, git up there, girls,” she interrupted herself to urge the cows on.
“I’m happy to hear that.” George took her mittened hand in his.
“You must be frozen! Where are your mitts?” Annie was aghast to see his hand was bare.
“Don’t have any, I’m afraid.” He shrugged.
“Why, that ridiculous! Surely the Millers can spare you a pair of mitts!”
“Not so far, but the winter’s young yet. It’s just the end of November.”
Annie stopped in her tracks digging in the big pockets of her coat. She pulled out a pair of thick hand knit mittens and shoved them at him. “Here, they’re a bit tattered, but they’re warm.”
“No, now. They’re yours, I can’t just take them.” George shook his head.