The men walked past with no form of acknowledgment or greeting, secure in their position as kings of the realm.
Once they’d moved on, Belle climbed back onto the walkway without comment and continued their conversation. “Of course, fancy will cost more but in my opinion, it will be worth it. If this coat is a success, other ladies will order from me and we’ll be in the furrier business.”
Kathryn was aghast. She stood rooted to the spot, gaping up at her aunt from the dusty street. “Aunt Belle! Those, those...gentleman! Why did you make us step off the boardwalk?”
Her aunt’s excitement of a moment before evaporated. “Katy, we don’t want to cause any problems, and it’s expected for us, for the Métis, to give way to those who live in town.”
“You mean to the white people. That’s utter nonsense. Unacceptable. I deserve the respect that should be shown any lady, no matter what her race. Scurrying into the gutter! Impossible!” Kathryn was furious as she climbed back onto the boardwalk and shook the dirt from her skirt. “When I read Uncle Tom’s Cabin, I was so thankful I lived in Canada where cruel treatment of another human being because of his skin colour didn’t happen. I see now, the sequel to Mrs. Stowe’s novel could easily be written right here in Hopeful!”
“I don’t like it any more than you do, Katy, but we have to live here. This is life for the Road Allowance People. Accept it.” Without another word, her aunt turned and walked away.
Kathryn was stunned. Was this how it was for the Ditch People? They would forever be considered outcasts with every one going along like it was the right thing to do? She thought of all the Métis and the years stretching ahead. How would they bear it?
Silently, she followed her aunt into the mercantile, still dumbfounded by what she’d experienced outside. The most shocking thing had been that no one had thought anything of it. It was business as usual: white men on the boardwalk; Métis in the dirt.
The injustice of what had happened made the future lawyer in her seethe. Kathryn felt anger, shame, hurt and helplessness all at the same time. Toronto and her privileged life seemed very far away.
Aunt Belle took forever to choose the right threads, buttons, needles and other assorted frippery, checking each item a thousand times until she was satisfied.
“There, that should do it. I hope Mr. McGraw will let me put all this on my bill until I’m paid for the work. I don’t have any money right now and there must be over five dollars worth of goods here.” She held up her basket of loot.
They went to the counter so that Aunt Belle could arrange credit, but before she could say anything, a large woman with a garish purple dress and matching hat decorated with drooping bunches of fat grapes approached.
The woman gawked at Aunt Belle in her faded yellow dress, moccasins and braids, and her expression turned to one of intense disgust. It reminded Kathryn of the last time she’d stepped in something that was best scraped off her shoe. The rotund woman pushed in front of Aunt Belle and placed her own purchases on the counter.
After the boardwalk incident, Kathryn couldn’t believe this was happening. Fury flashed white hot as her spine straightened. “Oh, no you don’t. I believe we are next, madam.” She firmly slid the intruder’s basket aside.
“Well, I never!” The woman squawked indignantly, her face blossoming into the same purple shade as her hideous dress. “You sort are getting way above yourselves. You should be run out of town back to where you belong.” Huffing loudly, she turned to the merchant who was at a loss as to what he should do. “Mr. McGraw, you should restrict the clientele you allow into your establishment. The City Ladies League all agree, these half-breeds should be barred from stores where decent people shop.”
Kathryn’s temper shot off the scale. “Why you...” She took a menacing step forward, about to really get into it when her aunt laid a silencing hand on her arm.
“Katy, please, it’s all right, I’ll wait. I have to speak to the proprietor about the details.” She gave Kathryn a pleading look.
“No, it is absolutely not all right!” Then Kathryn realised she shouldn’t cause any more trouble. Without those supplies Aunt Belle couldn’t sew and that would mean no money to buy food. Reluctantly she gave in, biting back the scathing retort waiting to leap off the tip of her tongue. “I’ll be at the chemist’s.”
Using every fibre of self control, she left the store before she turned the huge purple grape into a vat of quivering jelly.
Chapter 14
Outhouse Rendezvous
Over the following days, Kathryn kept busy helping her aunt clean the house, wash the clothes, feed old Nellie, tend the vegetables in the large garden and do a host of other domestic drudgery. How Aunt Belle did all these household chores and was a seamstress as well, Kathryn didn’t know. By nightfall each day, she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to have a hot bath and fall into bed to read more of Sir Giles’s daring exploits.
Kathryn had also been having less than restful sleeps. She tossed and turned all night, strange dreams jolting her awake as cold sweat soaked her nightdress. Many of these dreams were of her father. Always, he would slip from her grasp, ephemeral as the colours of a rainbow, and try as she might, Kathryn couldn’t hold him. She would greet the day irritated and out of sorts.
It was after one of these nightmares that Kathryn awoke with a start. A noise from the main room roused her and then she saw it. Seeping under the gap at the bottom of her door was the strange red light she’d seen before. Jumping out of bed, Kathryn scurried to the bedroom door and yanked it open.
Her aunt, standing at the table, whirled and clutched her chest. “Mon Dieu, child! You scared me half to death.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I saw the light...” She took in the lantern glowing on the table, glowing with a perfectly normal yellow light, and then scanned the room. It was the only lantern there.
“Oui, my child. I don’t go out at night without a lantern. Too many visitors prowling around who don’t like to be startled. You never know how they’ll react.”
“No, it’s the lantern. The light was red. ” Kathryn protested, the whine in her voice verging on childish.
“Well, as you can see, there is only this one and it’s a plain, ordinary light, not some fairy lantern. Now, off to bed.”
Then Kathryn saw something peeking out of the pocket on her aunt’s coat. It was a tiny piece of gauzy material and it was a rich, ruby red.
Kathryn shuffled back to her tiny room. Wide awake now, she sat on the edge of her narrow bed. The walls she had whitewashed herself glowed iridescently in the moonlight, the reflection casting an eerily bright light.
Why was her aunt avoiding telling the truth unless she was up to something she wanted to keep secret – and what was the biggest secret in River Falls?
The Highwayman.
The two had to be connected. Kathryn loved mysteries and there were enough here to keep her busy for a month of Sundays.
Then she remembered the day she and Mark had shared lunch by the river and they’d seen Aunt Belle racing to who-knew-where. Kathryn thought of how well her aunt had sat her horse. Even Mark had been impressed.
Out of the blue, a phrase from Sister Bernadette’s vernacular popped into Kathryn’s head. She had been guilty of a sin of omission – when she’d compiled her list of possible suspects, she had not even considered the Highwayman could be a woman.
This added many more suspects to her list, but Kathryn couldn’t deny the possibility. A bandanna could cover a face, and long hair could be tucked up under a hat. Take her aunt, for example: she was strong, could ride like the wind, plus she lived alone and apart from the rest of River Falls. Kathryn recalled the night she’d seen the Highwayman. How foolish she had been to cut through the woods – the road would have been faster, and she might have caught her aunt stashing the evidence and returning to the cabin...
Kathryn shook her head. Aunt Belle the Highwayman? Impossible! Agitated, she paced the room. Some dime-novel
detective she was. She was surrounded by mysteries and had yet to solve one satisfactorily.
Out of all her suspects, who was most likely to be this unknown hero? She concentrated, trying to think like a lawyer and immediately, Claude Remy again headed her list. Most of the identifying marks fit, if you used your imagination a little for the details. She thought of Claude’s visit when she’d tried to discover if he was the Highwayman. What had been his final words?
“Tell Belle I have the goods.”
The goods! Reaching out, Kathryn stroked her fingers down the spines of the beautiful volumes. Could he have been talking about books – a load of very hard to come by and exactly what she needed books?
She felt her heart speed up a beat or two as a string of events linked themselves together like pearls in a necklace.
The night of the dance, Aunt Belle had said Claude had stayed behind. What if he’d slipped away to do good deeds and everyone thought he was walking them home? And he was a trapper, who came and went for long periods and at odd times. Then there was the way Claude had strolled into the cabin like he owned the place, as though he and Belle had an understanding that this was acceptable.
What if Aunt Belle was using the red lantern to signal Claude Remy – to tell him about some problem at River Falls that needed fixing? A midnight rendezvous would be a great way of relaying the needs of the people without attracting attention, especially if Belle pretended not to like Claude to confuse the gossips even more. Circles within circles. It was the perfect smoke screen.
Those circles whirling in her head spun faster and faster.
It made sense. The Highwayman needed an insider to feed him information, one who wouldn’t be suspected of sympathizing and who lived in a remote area which made meeting with her secret red signal tres easy.
No wonder Kokum has said the Highwayman would know about her troubles immediately. Kathryn was living with the telegraph operator!
It all made sense. She jumped back into her warm bed. She’d done it! She’d positively, absolutely unravelled the mystery of the unknown Highwayman, and given him a name – Claude Remy. This was so exciting: diversion and danger; mystery and mayhem; and, to make it completely intriguing, Romeos and romance. She really was a dime-novel detective!
Kathryn had stumbled on the Métis Robin Hood and his beautiful Maid Marian all in one swoop!
The next day, Kathryn was humming to herself as she swept the cabin floor. She hadn’t decided what to do with her revelation and would have to carefully pick her moment when she told Aunt Belle that the jig was up.
“That’s enough housework, Katy.” Her aunt motioned out the window. “Why not escape and enjoy the sunshine for a while.”
Aunt Belle was busily pinning the hem of the dress she was working on. Even hanging from the dressmaker’s dummy, Kathryn could already see how elegant it would be when finished. “I could use some fresh air.”
“It’s a wonderful day. You should take advantage of our river and go cool off.”
Kathryn considered this. “That’s a great idea.” She picked up the book she was reading, eager to get to the good part, and grabbed her straw bonnet from the coat peg at the door. “See you later.”
Ambling down to the river, Kathryn felt the heat of the early summer sun through her cotton blouse. It was going to be a scorcher later on and she was glad she’d remembered her hat. The sun brought out the freckles on her pale face and she detested them. They made her look like a child.
At the riverbank, she picked the perfect spot for wading, shucked her shiny patent leather shoes and itchy stockings and, hiking up her skirt to a shocking inch above her knee, sloshed into the cool stream.
The rocks were slimy with glistening green moss and small black minnows darted away in the sun-dappled water. The air was fresh and smelled so sweet it made her want to inhale until her lungs burst.
As Kathryn played in the stream, she unexpectedly felt an urgent need arise. All that water, splashing water, swirling water...
She clambered onto the bank and, for fear of wetting her lovely leather shoes, walked barefoot back through the pines to the privy.
No sooner had she sat down, when a branch snapped loudly outside. She paused, listening. “It’s occupied, Aunt Belle.”
Instead of her aunt’s normal reply, all Kathryn heard was a sort of deep grunt, then a snort. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. That was not how her aunt usually sounded.
“Aunt Belle? Is that you?” Her voice quavered.
There was now a distinct scratching sound at the flimsy wooden door. Something was outside! The clawing moved higher up the wood.
Did bears feed in the day time? Did bears use outhouses? Then there was a loud thump and a bang on the back of the rickety building.
Kathryn shrieked and made the sign of the cross. Shaking, she leapt up and put her eye to a crack in the door, expecting to see a thousand-pound grizzly with eight inch claws and ten inch teeth waiting for her to come to dinner where she’d be the honoured guest and the main course!
She couldn’t see anything. Should she run? Was it safer to wait until the beast grew bored and left? Should she play dead? How long would it be before she wasn’t playing?
When the small building started to rock, Kathryn knew she had no choice. Taking a deep breath, she burst out of the door and ran for the stream, remembering too late that grizzlies hunted salmon in rivers and it was a nice day for paddling.
The sound of raucous laughter made her stop. She turned to see JP doubled over with hysterics.
“You should see your face!” he howled, clutching his sides.
Kathryn felt the heat in her cheeks. “You rat, JP! Come here and we’ll see how my fist looks in your face!” She dashed after him, determined to drown him like a rodent in a gunny sack!
He ran behind a large pine, dodging her flailing fists as he deftly leapt onto a log that extended into the river. Not about to be foiled, Kathryn rushed forward, hoping to send the annoying boy flying into the stream.
She miscalculated her momentum, and too late realized she couldn’t stop. The impact sent them both arcing gracefully, even artfully, into the frigid water.
The shock made her gasp. “I can’t breathe!” she squeaked.
He slapped her on the back, a little too hard she thought, which freed her paralysed lungs and she sucked in a huge lungful of air.
Struggling with her soggy skirt, Kathryn dragged herself out of the water and sat with a squish. “You idiot! What were you thinking? You scare me half to death and then you try to drown me!”
JP retrieved his bright red hat from the safety of the branch where he’d stowed it and placed it on his head. “For the record, it was you who tried to drown me.” He adjusted his chapeau a quarter inch to the left. “Thinking about it, I guess I did need a bath.” Satisfied, he came to sit beside her.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” She shook her blouse to release the water, acutely aware of the way it clung to her and caused the chemise underneath to be seen plainly through the now transparent white cotton.
“I came to borrow the promised book. If I remember rightly, that was part of our deal.” There was a challenge in his eye.
“And you couldn’t have come to the door like a normal human being?” She squeezed her braid, draining more water.
“I did! Didn’t you hear me scratching?” He was positively gleeful.
This was too much. Kathryn pulled back her fist and socked him on the arm – hard.
“Ow!” He grabbed his shoulder. “That’s my old war wound. Bit of shrapnel from the Crimea.”
She snorted. “You’re holding up well for your age.”
They sat in mutual silence until pitiful won out and Kathryn relented. “Fine, truce. You can have the book.” There was a detail from a while ago that still bothered her and this annoying boy may be able to help. “JP, you once told me you knew things about all your subjects, is that true?”
“Verily, I say unto
you, I know enough to get more than one of our fine citizens in some rather hot water.”
She pursed her lips. “Can you tell me, if a man keeps his knife on his left side, is he right- or left-handed?”
JP jumped to his feet, brandishing a stout branch. “If one must deal with evil foes, one should carry a sword and be prepared to use it at a moment’s notice. If one is right handed, he would carry his blade thus...” He slid the tree limb into his belt on the left side.
Claude had had his knife on the right side – so he was left handed! She clapped her hands, sensing victory.
“But...” JP paused for effect. “If one carries a knife, one carries it on the side one is most adept with. If you are wrong-handed, you carry it on the left, which always leads to frustration as knives and their sheaths are set up for right-handed folks, which most are.”
This was not what she wanted to hear. This would mean Claude was right-handed...unless it was a ruse. Had Claude deliberately worn his knife on the opposite side to throw pursuers off with misinformation? That would be very devious and clever, and though she could believe Claude was devious, it was a stretch to consider him clever.
“And now, fair maiden, about my book...”
She came back from her wool gathering. “JP, it’s my book; don’t forget that I need it back.” It was going with her when she left. “But I think a knight of your renown can be trusted. Come on, I’ll show you what I have.”
They walked, joking and teasing each other, back to the cabin, where Aunt Belle was now busily hammering inside Nellie’s lean-to.
“She’s making a coop for April, May and June,” Kathryn said excitedly.
JP’s face was a study in bewilderment.
“We have three new chickens and I named them so we could keep track of who was whom,” she explained.
He dusted his wonderful hat, then replacing it, tipped the brim to a jaunty angle. “So will you eat them in order of the months they were named after?”
Kathryn took a swat at him which he easily avoided. “They’ll be ‘egg only’ fowl, thank you very much.”
Outcasts of River Falls Page 13