“I know.” His voice, like the look in his eyes, softened. “I’m sorry.”
She stared at him, stunned. Where had he heard about Colin?
He squeezed her arm gently. “I spoke out of turn. I was wrong to compare your situation to Abe’s. Please forgive me.”
Her anger receded in the face of his sincerity, but at a loss for words, she simply nodded and turned away.
Her thoughts were in turmoil as she and Lane walked back to join the others. Realizing he knew of Colin made her feel exposed and vulnerable. She’d told no one in Peace but Alice about the love she’d lost. Certainly Alice wouldn’t breach good manners so far as to reveal her loss to a comparative stranger. Walter must have told Lane of Colin; and if Walter had told of Colin’s death, what else had he revealed?
Chapter 5
Looks like the whole town’s out to skate,” Lane observed when they arrived back at the millpond. He exaggerated, but not by much. The area of shoveled ice had been enlarged during their absence. At the far end, Jesse and Nate played with boys who were hitting a large flat rock along the ice with sticks and brooms. Parents and older children held the hands of little ones who were learning to maneuver on the ice. Jenny skated close to the river’s edge with a girl about her own age. Mufflers and skirts floated on the breeze their owners created by skimming over the ice. Husbands and wives skated arm in arm. As always, seeing happy couples caught at Mantie’s heart with memories of Colin and the knowledge they’d never again be together.
Lane touched Mantie’s elbow and nodded toward a little girl who wobbled on shiny skate blades a few feet from them. Mantie recognized the banker’s six-year-old daughter, Susannah. Golden braids hung below her black knit hat, framing a round, rosy-cheeked face. As they watched, Susannah’s skates skidded out from under her. Undeterred, she pushed herself up and tried again.
Whomp! Her bottom hit the ice. Pressing her lips firmly together, she struggled once again to her feet.
Plunk! Back down. The front of her blades curved in front of her boot toes like smile lines. Susannah’s mittened hands formed into fists. “Oh, my!”
Mantie and Lane shared a laughing glance.
“Shall we help?” Lane took Mantie’s answer for granted and started toward Susannah.
Mantie followed, walking carefully on the ice. “Hi, Susannah.” Lane smiled at Susannah and held out his hands. “Need a hand up?” Susannah let him take her hands. He lifted her in one swift movement to her feet.
“How about if Miss Clark and I each hang onto one of your hands while you skate between us?”
“Only for a little bit.” Susannah lifted one of her hands toward Mantie. “I’m trying to learn to skate by myself.”
Lane nodded solemnly. “Of course.”
Susannah’s skates thunked rather than rang against the ice. Mantie realized the girl was walking on her blades. “Try pushing your blade across the ice instead of stepping on it, Susannah.”
Susannah tried. One foot moved out in front. Farther. Farther. “Help.”
Lane and Mantie lifted the girl’s arms until both feet were underneath her again.
Mantie tried once more. “Push your foot like this, Susannah. Just a little way at a time.” She shoved the toe of her right boot forward. “See?” Susannah nodded.
Mantie pushed the toe of her left boot forward. “O–oh!”
She thrashed about with her free arm. It was no use. She fell to the ice, pulling Susannah and Lane with her.
“Oh, my!” Susannah pushed herself off Mantie. “I think I’ll skate by myself, thank you very kindly.”
Mantie’s gaze met Lane’s over Susannah’s head. They burst into laughter.
Susannah levered herself with her hands against Lane’s legs and stood up. A second later she sat between them again.
Laughter shook Mantie’s voice as she inquired whether Susannah was hurt. Before Susannah replied, a man asked whether Mantie was all right.
She looked up to see Susannah’s father. “Quite fine,” she managed before breaking into another peal of laughter. She pulled her disarrayed skirt over her boots.
Susannah’s father lifted the little girl into his arms. “I think we’ve had enough skating for one day, Susannah. Thank you for trying to help her, Miss Clark, but she’s determined to do it herself, as you can see.”
Susannah’s protests drifted back to Mantie and Lane as the girl’s father carried her toward the shore.
“The girl is pioneer stock for sure: stubborn and tough.” Lane stood and with a grin helped Mantie to her feet. “You never learned to skate?”
“Whatever gave you that impression?” Mantie attempted a haughty expression but couldn’t keep it up. She grinned back at him. “I haven’t skated since I was a girl back in New York. My old skate blades now belong to Jenny.”
He steadied her with a hand under her elbow. “Doesn’t the general store sell skate blades? Or perhaps you didn’t care for skating.”
“I’m not sure whether the general store sells blades. I liked skating when I was young. I guess I haven’t thought about it for quite awhile.” Life’s everyday duties had filled her days for so long. Spending time at things such as skating seemed frivolous. Caring for the children and Walter, moving across the country after the war, and existing each day with the pain of losing Colin and her brother had taken all her strength.
Lane pointed to the riverbank. “Looks like Walt got the fire going.”
The pleasant scent of wood smoke drifted on the air. A small group gathered about the flames with Walter and Alice. Nearby, boys lying belly-down on wooden sleds sailed down the smooth riverbank and out onto the ice.
Mantie became aware of skaters watching her and Lane. She didn’t mind people laughing at her fall on the ice, but she didn’t want them thinking she and Lane were courting. With a sinking feeling, she realized it was already too late to stop such speculation.
When they arrived at the fire’s welcoming warmth, Mantie immediately moved away from Lane to stand beside Alice. While Lane answered Walter’s questions about the ice downriver, Alice nudged Mantie. Black brows lifted above eyes dancing with excitement and curiosity.
Mantie frowned at her and shook her head slightly, then pointedly looked away.
Jesse and Nate came up the slope from the river, red-cheeked and panting. Jesse’s progress to the fire, made on his skate blades, was slower than Nate’s.
“They must be exhausted,” Mantie said to Alice. “They’ll sleep well tonight.”
Nate stopped beside Lane, waiting with obvious impatience for his brother to stop speaking to the adults. He broke in as soon as he politely could. “Can I go get the sled, Lane?”
Lane laughed. “Sure, if you think you have enough energy to use it.”
“We’re not tired, are we, Jesse?”
“Not a bit of it.” Jesse dropped to the ground. “Wait for me to take off my skate blades, Nate.”
“Looks like you were wrong,” Alice said as they watched the boys race toward town.
“Yes,” Mantie agreed. “I’m glad to see Jesse and Nate get along so well. I wasn’t sure Nate wanted to make new friends at first.”
She felt someone’s gaze on her and glanced about. Lane was watching her with a smile. She realized he’d heard her comment and sensed his thankfulness for her concern for his little brother. His gratitude filled a place inside her with warmth, a place untouched by the fire before them.
Nate and Jesse’s shouts announced their arrival with the sled.
“I’ve never seen such a fine sled,” Mantie marveled to Alice.
It didn’t look like the sleds with which Mantie was familiar. Instead of the usual lengths of wood that completely filled in the space between the sled’s bed and the snow, these runners were made from metal and gave the sled the more delicate, graceful image of a sleigh.
Townspeople surrounded the sled. Men wanted to see how it was made. The boys merely wanted to ride it.
Nate took it for
the first run. It whizzed past the crowd, down the bank, and onto the ice. Instantly the other children crowded around Nate, begging for a chance to ride.
“Nate looks like he’s grown three feet, he’s so proud,” Lane confided to Mantie. “Just hope he realizes that this doesn’t mean those kids want him for a friend.”
“I think it’s nice he’s sharing it with them. It seems to ride more smoothly than the shovels and sleds with wooden runners.”
“Have you ever ridden a sled?”
“No.”
He reached out his hand. “We can remedy that.”
She stepped back. “Oh, no.” The town already thought they were courting. She wasn’t going to cement the idea, tempted though she was to sail down the hill. Besides, she couldn’t imagine a less elegant position for a woman than lying on her stomach racing headfirst down a snowy riverbank.
Lane gave in without a fight.
She wished he hadn’t and was immediately disgusted with her contrary attitude.
She turned her back on the sled and shovels and walked down by the ice. Colin wouldn’t have given in as easily as Lane. He would have badgered and teased and insisted until she rode down the hill whether she wanted to or not. In the end, she’d have loved it. She always loved everything they did together. He’d been so full of energy and fun and laughter. Her stomach tightened at the memory. He’d brought so much joy into her otherwise quiet days.
The longer Mantie watched the sledders, the more she wished she’d accepted Lane’s challenge. The children’s laughter, giggles, and shining eyes told of their fun. The way they ran up the slope, their sleds bouncing behind them, spoke of their eagerness to experience the exhilarating run again. Soon snow encrusted the clothing of all the children, but they didn’t seem to notice.
With a bit of a swagger, Nate agreed to give little Susannah a ride. She sat in front, her eyes wide with excitement. “Hold on to the sides,” Nate commanded. He sat behind her, reaching in front of her to grasp the sled’s rope in both hands. She let out a squeal of delight as the sled gained speed, closing her eyes hard against the flying snow, bringing laughter from the crowd.
Jesse condescended to give Jenny a ride next. The other girls weren’t as fortunate. “Sledding is for boys,” Nate announced solemnly. Jesse nodded in agreement. Disappointed, the girls went back to the river to entertain themselves.
The brightness of the winter afternoon dimmed as the sun neared the horizon. The number of skaters and sledders dwindled as they headed toward home and warmth and dry clothes and supper before the evening church service. Alice left to begin preparing the family’s meal. “Stay for a while if you want,” she urged Mantie.
Walter made sure the fire was out, spreading the embers and covering them with snow.
“Do we have to go? Can’t I have just one more ride?” Nate begged.
“I think Miss Clark should have the honor of the last ride.” Lane smiled at Mantie. “What do you say? Changed your mind yet?”
The temptation was too great. Most of the townspeople were gone. She grinned. “All right.”
Nate sat down on the front of the sled. “You can get on behind me, Miss Clark.”
Mantie shook her head. “I don’t think there’s room for both of us.”
Nate relinquished his sled with obvious reluctance.
Rejecting the idea of lying on her stomach, Mantie knelt on the sled and grasped the sides.
“That might not be the best position,” Lane warned. He explained how lying down kept the weight more evenly distributed over the length of the sled and showed her how it was easier to grasp the sides while lying down. “And of course, if you need to avoid a rock or tree, it’s not as frightening to roll off if you’re already lying down.”
“Cheerful thought.” She darted him a look of disgust and didn’t change her position.
He chuckled.
“Will you give me a push, Jesse?”
Jesse obliged.
She barreled down the slope at a speed that felt considerably faster than when she’d watched others. The sled seemed to leap when it went over a slight bump in the path. Mantie’s heart dropped from her chest to her stomach. Her weight pitched to one side. The next moment she lay in the snow, the sled on its side next to her.
She sat up and reached to brush snow from her eyes. Instead, she made it worse. Blinking, she looked down at her gloves. They were covered with snow. Her wrists stung from the cold of snow jammed into the top of the gloves.
Jesse, Jenny, and Nate raced up to her. “Are you all right?” Jenny asked, panting slightly.
“Did you like it?” Jesse asked. “Isn’t it grand?”
“Yes, to everything.” Mantie struggled unsuccessfully to find a way to get up with a modicum of grace. Jesse and Jenny each grasped one of her arms and tugged.
By the time she was standing, Lane had reached them. “You’re going to try again, aren’t you?”
She had the juvenile desire to stick out her tongue at his teasing tone and laughing eyes. Instead she righted the sled and pulled it back up the hill. He fell into step beside her. “How do you steer this thing?” she asked when they arrived at the top.
“You lean. It doesn’t make sharp turns, of course, just kind of veers to the side you lean toward. Of course, it’s better sometimes to try to find a straight course and keep the sled on it.”
“Do tell. And where on a hillside does one find such a perfect course?”
He had the grace to smile sheepishly. “Why don’t you let me go down with you once and show you how it’s done?”
She wasn’t sure whether that was a good idea, but she obligingly made room for him at the back of the sled. “Pull the rope tight and hold it with both hands,” he instructed. When she’d done so, he reached his arms forward and grasped the rope, too. His breath was warm against her cheek, and she caught her breath at his closeness.
The intimacy was forgotten a moment later in the exhilaration of racing down the hill, flying past trees and shrubs. The bump that had thrown her earlier threatened to toss the two of them. She felt the sled start to lean to one side. “Lean!” Lane’s yell sounded in her ear at the same time his arms pressed against hers. Together they shifted their weight. The sled shifted, too, and they hit the ground and continued their descent. Then they slid across the ice. Lane stuck out his feet and dug in his heels until they slowed to a stop.
It happened in a flash, but Mantie was aware of it all and exuberant at having mastered that silly lump of land, even though it took Lane’s help to do it.
They stood up and she turned to him, smiling. “Thank you. It was wonderful.” She felt as carefree as a child.
“Maybe next time you’ll want to try it alone again. I think it’s getting too dark to sled now.”
She hadn’t noticed how deep the shadows had grown. He was right, of course.
As she walked home with Jenny, Jesse, and Walter, Mantie relived the afternoon in wonder. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had so much fun that she’d lost track of time.
Chapter 6
Mantie, it’s time to get up.”
Jenny’s voice broke through Mantie’s sleep. “I’m awake,” she mumbled.
Light, Alice and Walter’s voices, the smells of oatmeal and bacon, and too little heat rose through the grated opening in the floor near the bed. The room was still gray in the early morning. Through half-opened eyelids, Mantie watched Jenny, with whom she shared the room, grab her dress and high-buttoned shoes.
Jenny opened the door and stopped. “Don’t go back to sleep,” she warned before hurrying downstairs to dress beside the kitchen stove.
I can’t believe I slept this late, Mantie thought. Usually she was up early, helping Alice prepare breakfast for the family while Walter milked the cow and broke the ice in the water for the farm animals. At least she didn’t need to be at school this morning. Mr. Wren had attended church services yesterday, hale and healthy.
She stretched, then drew the
quilt back up beneath her chin. Its heaviness and warmth were so enticing. Just a minute or two longer couldn’t hurt.
Images from yesterday afternoon at the river filled her mind: Lane pointing out animals and tracks in the quiet forest around the bend; Susannah’s determined chin as she tried out her new skate blades; the color and sense of life the skaters brought to the river and millpond; the children’s laughter; the excitement of skimming over the snow with Lane on Nate’s sled.
Lane. She liked the way he played and laughed with the children. She’d enjoyed his friendly, but not too friendly, company. If only men could remain friends and not always try to court a woman.
She pushed the quilt back, sat up, and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Even through her stockings, the floor chilled her feet. She dressed quickly, pulling the warm but itchy wool stockings over her knees, donning her brown wool house-dress and high-buttoned shoes. She left her braid. She’d brush her hair out downstairs. Looking in the mirror, she pinned the locket above her heart.
Shocked, she stared at the locket’s reflection in the mirror. This was the first morning in years that she hadn’t awakened with her first thought being of Colin. Troubled, she walked downstairs, yesterday’s joy-filled memories smirched.
Clothes still draped over the rope Walter had strung across the kitchen the night before. Everyone but Alice had returned from the river wet to the skin and had needed a complete change of clothes for the evening service. Alice had scolded good-naturedly, warned they would all come down with croup, and heated apple cider to warm them.
Jesse and Jenny were ready to leave for school by the time Mantie entered the kitchen. The children’s coats and accessories were still damp from the previous day. Mantie lent Jenny a dry pair of gloves, and Jesse wore the stained pair he used for chores.
Walter left with the children, he for work and they for school. Mantie couldn’t avoid seeing the affectionate look and squeeze of the shoulders Walter gave Alice at the door before leaving. Although she was glad for her brother’s happiness, the signs of their affection were a painful reminder of the life she would never share with Colin.
Tracie Peterson, Tracey V. Bateman, Pamela Griffin, JoAnn A. Grote Page 17