“What is the matter?” Callum asked, not enjoying the frown on her face. He preferred her eyes lit up with excitement and laughter.
“It’s so…”
“Open? Free? Fresh?”
“Dreary,” she finished.
“Oh cheer up,” said Callum, who was fighting his own inner doubt about the land, missing the green, rolling Highlands. “Imagine all that can grow here. It’s a new beginning. And it’s spring. Winter has left everything slightly barren but you can see the leaves growing and the flowers preparing to burst to life.”
She raised an eyebrow at him in doubt, but smiled at his positivity.
They sat in silence as the train slowly eased into the station — the last on the line. Those disembarking here could be going anywhere west in the Northwest Territories, and it was a vast expanse of land, at least from what Victoria could tell from the map. The small one-room station had a few plank boards out front that led down to the muddy road. There were quite a few people waiting for friends and family. Victoria strained to find Aunt Sarah through the window, but couldn’t see her anywhere.
“Well,” Victoria finally said as she turned from the window to look at Callum, who had a serious look on his face. “I suppose this is goodbye. Have a pleasant trip, wherever you’re off too. It has been… interesting knowing you.”
She looked back to the window before he could see the tears in her eyes. Why this goodbye was affecting her so much, she didn’t know. She had only met the man three weeks before, for goodness sake. And he’d been so rude at the beginning that she hadn’t even liked him for the longest time.
He clearly had his reasons for coming west and didn’t want to share with them with her, which could only mean there was a woman waiting for him. She should appreciate the friendship they had developed. One thing was for certain, she knew now that there was a man out there who could make her blush and her heart beat faster. Who she wanted more than she would ever admit, even to herself. Perhaps there would be another like Callum in Fort Qu'Appelle — another Scot with an easy laugh, broad shoulders and gorgeous thigh muscles apparent through his clothing. And if there was not, why did it matter? She had told herself it did not matter whether she ever married anyway.
“Victoria,” he said softly, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “We’ll cross paths again if it’s meant to be. Take care of yourself.”
By the time she blinked back her tears and turned around, he was gone.
Callum cursed himself as he scanned the crowd that had gathered at the station. He should have done something. But what? Kissed her? He would have either have insulted her or created false expectations. He wasn’t here to stay, so it would do nothing but bring him fleeting satisfaction and that just wasn’t fair. He sighed and tried to focus on his true purpose in Fort Qu'Appelle.
The station was small. There was a short platform, and a building which housed a ticket counter and a minuscule waiting room. People had gathered outside, where the air was crisp, but with a warm wind from the south signalled that the late spring should hopefully soon turn to summer.
People looked at him with interest, as they did with most passengers, taking stock of who was new to the area. He figured the train brought the most excitement this place had had for days.
He felt a large hand grasp his shoulder.
“Callum?”
He turned. “Aye,” he replied, looking up to the man’s face before scanning him up and down.
The tall, thin man was dressed in a red jacket. He wore a hat dipped low on his forehead. His blue pants were striped in red, and his brown boots completed the outfit. It was colorful compared to the clothing Callum had seen on his journey, and brought back warm feelings of the bright plaids of Scotland.
“I’m Angus McLaren, from the North-West Mounted Police,” the man said, with a Scottish burr as thick as Callum’s own. His angular cheekbones and weather-beaten skin outlined a serious face, but his smile for Callum was pleasant enough.
“Pleased to meet you finally,” said Callum, who had come to know Angus through letters they had exchanged for the past few months.
“Aye, although the circumstances are unfortunate,” replied Angus.
“My hope is a positive outcome,” Callum responded.
“I’ve made the arrangements you requested,” said Angus as he led Callum to the fence where a few horses were tied to the posts. “It’s not something the force would typically do, but for a fellow countryman I’m happy to have helped. I’ve brought you a horse. He’s feisty but fast. You can pay Mr. Johnson for both the horse and your lodging. He and his wife run the boardinghouse in Fort Qu'Appelle. They will keep a tab for ye until the time comes when you wish to return home.”
The horse Angus had chosen seemed sturdy enough, and Callum would soon test his speed. He secured his few belongings in the saddlebags and mounted his horse. “Aye then,” he said to Angus, who had mounted a gray stallion, as tall and thin as he was. “Away we go.”
9
Victoria helped Maisie collect her things, and held Archie’s hand as they made their way down the platform.
“Oh, there’s Gilbert!” said Maisie and waved excitedly at a man in the crowd. He was an average looking man — brown hair, brown eyes, regular height and build, and dressed like the rest of the farmers in dark pants, a vest over his shirt and a handkerchief tied around his neck.
Maisie turned towards Victoria and threw her arms around her. “I shall come visit you soon, I promise!” Victoria gave Archie a quick hug and kiss goodbye before watching Maisie run to hug the man she hadn’t seen in over a year, Archie trailing behind her. Victoria felt a touch of envy, but told herself to keep moving. She loved her freedom more than she ever could a man. She remembered England — always having someone constantly telling her what she could do, could not do, where she could go or not go. A husband would only replace her stepfather, who she had traveled halfway across the world to escape. It was nauseating to think a man could control her like that again.
Her thoughts were disrupted when she heard her name called.
“Victoria?! Victoria, is that you?”
“Aunt Sarah!” she responded, her head whipping around as she found her aunt in the crowd and ran towards her.
Sarah looked just as she remembered, with a little more gray in her hair, more lines on her face, and more plumpness in her chest and around her middle. But her eyes still sparkled, her smile still stretched from one ear to the other, and she hugged Victoria to her with the same enthusiasm she always had.
“Oh Victoria,” Sarah exclaimed, as tears ran down her face. “You’ve become such a beautiful young woman. You’ve come so far, what a journey. I cannot wait to hear all about it. Come, you must meet Charlie.”
A man standing a short distance away, watching the reunion with tears in his own eyes, turned and enveloped Victoria in a hug as big as Sarah’s had been. His bushy red beard scratched the top of Victoria’s head.
“Hi Charlie, nice to meet you,” said Victoria with her face squished into the strange man’s chest. “You must be… ummm…” Victoria couldn’t figure out why Sarah hadn’t told her about the man in her letters if he was important enough to be meeting her here at the train station.
“Oh!” Sarah cut her off. “Charlie is my neighbor. He helps around the house and the yard and he runs the general store. He offered to drive.”
Sarah had come to Fort Qu'Appelle with her husband, Albert. Albert had been the community’s doctor with Sarah as his nurse until Albert suddenly died after a short battle with smallpox. Sarah, never one to despair, had picked herself up, and when the new doctor came to town, she offered her services as a nurse. After working with her efficiency for a day, the doctor had kept her on.
And now there was Charlie. Interesting. Perhaps there was more there than Sarah let on, but Victoria was content to let it be, for now at least.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” said Sarah. “Come, let’s get on the road. It’s n
ot a short journey, so we should get started to be home before dark.”
Charlie swung Victoria up into the wagon, which was attached to a pair of beautiful chestnut horses. Off they went, Victoria telling her aunt the full story – everything she had said in her letters, but now with Sarah’s arm around her and a shoulder to lean on, it seemed so much easier to let everything spill out. How angry she was at being used and at the whim of men as they played for money and power, and how it wasn’t right that as a woman she couldn’t have the freedom to make her own decisions.
Sarah did everything Victoria could have wanted — patted her shoulder and gave her the “there, there, everything’s going to be ok.”
“And,” she added, “You did make your own decision. You’re here, are you not?”
The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the valley heading down into Fort Qu'Appelle. As the wagon picked up speed on the rutted road toward the town, Victoria’s spirits lifted. Gone were the fields of endless plains. Stretching out below her in the valley, the trees were emerging from their winter gloom and beginning to leaf again, in greens that Victoria knew would be glorious come summer. Stretching ahead were expanses of shimmering blue water, the setting sun glistening off the calm, flat lakes.
“Why, it’s beautiful!” Victoria exclaimed.
The town itself was a hive of activity nestled between two lakes and stretches of prairie trees. Charlie soon turned down Main Street, which held nearly every building in town that wasn’t a home. Main Street included the General Store, the doctor’s office, the post office, the inn, and a diner that turned into a saloon at night.
Sarah’s house was directly behind the doctor’s office. She and Albert had lived in the second floor of the office when they first arrived in the town. Albert had thought of expanding his practice with another doctor, and built the small house behind the office. It proved perfect for Sarah in the following years when the new doctor came to town. He was single, and fine with the office’s upper residence.
The Hudson’s Bay Company was the centrepiece of Main Street and had been for 20 years. The beautiful red brick building commanded a presence in the town, and rightly so as it was the fur industry that had led to the creation of Fort Qu'Appelle.
Victoria couldn’t wait to explore the area, but that would come another day. She was hungry and tired and ready to stretch out and sleep in a real, soft bed, for the first time in what seemed liked forever, as Victoria didn’t count the cold cot at the Duke’s house as a real bed.
Sarah opened the door into the quaint little house. The rooms were fairly tiny compared to what Victoria was used to, but Sarah had added many warm touches, with knitted quilts, candles, and the odd family heirloom filling the small space. It made this house feel more like a home than any Victoria had lived in recently.
Sarah pointed the way to Victoria’s room as she prepared her a cup of tea. When she brought it to her, Victoria was just sitting on the bed, taking in how far she had come in such a short time.
“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” said Sarah, mistaking her blank expression for disappointment, “expansive ceilings and fireplaces and the like, but…”
“Oh it’s wonderful,” Victoria said, hugging her aunt. “It’s just perfect.”
The room made her feel like she was back home — her real home, out in the country with her father. There was a beautiful quilt covering the bed, with a birch table beside it, and a chest of drawers in the corner topped by wood carvings. A window overlooked the foliage behind the house. Hanging outside of the window was a box for plants once the weather warmed. It was exactly what Victoria would have built for herself, but she was too exhausted to enjoy it at the moment. She tucked herself into bed under her aunt’s warm quilt, and fell easily into a dreamless sleep.
Sarah tidied up the kitchen and reflected on what a day it had been. It had been years — 14 in fact — since she had seen her niece, and yet she had come to know her so well through their letter exchanges over the years. Seeing her had been almost a shock. Victoria’s character was so like her father, John, that Sarah forgot how much Victoria actually looked like Maxine. Although if Maxine did have anything worthy of inheritance, it certainly was her looks.
How Victoria had grown up in that household following John’s death and still turned into such a beautiful woman, inside and out, was beyond Sarah’s imagination. It did explain why Victoria was always so lost in her novels. She wrote to Sarah about the characters in her books as if they were her best friends. It saddened Sarah, but she was pleased when Victoria found a friend in the librarian to confide in.
Sarah had pleaded for years with Maxine to send Victoria to live with her, but to no avail. Maxine didn’t know if and when it would pay off to have Victoria close. And look what a mess it had all turned into.
Perhaps, Sarah thought, she should have gone back to England for Victoria to watch over her. But she and Albert had created such a life here. Albert’s passing had been a trial of course, but thankfully Charlie was around to help out. Charlie… Sarah smiled to herself. The big man was becoming dearer to her every day. She knew how he felt about her, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to take the next step with anyone quite yet. It had been two years since Albert succumbed to his illness, but their life had been as one for so long.
Ah well, first things first, thought Sarah, as she picked up the candle and started up the stairs to her bedroom. Victoria was here now, and she would look after her before worrying about her own self.
The “unruly” horse proved to be no match for Callum, who had grown up taming horses. Callum decided he would call him Ansgar, as he reminded him of a Celtic warrior. Angus said he wasn't named, but for the time they would be together, anyway, Callum felt he deserved a name. His feeling was that a horse truly did become a partner and should be treated that way.
Callum appreciated the beauty of the valley. When they had crested the hill, his face had stretched out into a broad grin. It wasn’t the Highlands, but it wasn’t just prairie land either. It was something he could live with.
The Johnsons’ inn was at the end of Main Street, before the turn towards the North-West Mounted Police depot. It was perfect. He could ride out there anytime he liked without all of the townspeople watching him go.
He took Ansgar to the stable to wipe him down and found everything he needed. He knocked on the door and it was soon opened. “Hello, Sir,” said the stoutly built woman who stood on the other side. “You must be Mr. McDougall.” Callum took her outstretched hand and was treated to a strong handshake. “Come in, dear,” she said and led him inside the wood-framed building, just as strong and solid as she was.
The inn itself was bare and sparse. Off the front entrance was a large dining area, with plank benches and a wooden slab. He supposed the kitchen was through the swinging door beside it. Next to the dining area was a smaller sitting room with a few wooden rocking chairs and table. “Mr. Johnson and I live in the back,” said Mrs. Johnson, pointing to a door on past the sitting area. “You have an emergency, or need anything, holler or knock on the door. Now come upstairs, I’ll show you to your room.” All the rooms for rent were on the second level. Callum followed Mrs. Johnson around the winding staircase and down the hall to the last room on the second floor.
“Should have all you need. But if you’re wanting anything, come find me. Supper is at six.”
The room did have everything he needed — a bed, a chest of drawers, and a washstand in the corner. Simple but livable. Meals were three times a day.
After dinner, finally one that filled his stomach and didn’t taste too bad either, he had a drink with some of the other guests, mostly bachelors working in the fur trade. He met Daniel and Nathan, men new to the area who were affable and welcoming, staying at the boardinghouse as they completed homes for themselves. While Daniel was a bachelor, Nathan awaited his family. Callum was also introduced to Chester, Brandon, and Alistair, a trio who stayed close to one another. T
he Englishman and two Scots had arrived years before to work their trade. Now, as the fur trade diminished, they worked as salesmen for Hudson’s Bay, selling off parcels of land. They all seemed to be bachelors and slightly nomadic, hence the rooms here.
“So, lad, what’s your interest in Fort Qu'Appelle?” asked Alistair. “Are ye interested in Hudson’s Bay yourself? Or is farm life your game?
“Farming,” he replied. “I’m looking at some land nearby. I’m unsure if this is where I want to stay. Thought I’d see what the community is like, how many Scots live here, and decide before investing.”
“Well it’s not much of an investment when it’s nearly free at $10,” said Brandon, looking at him confusedly.
“The investment is not the money. It’s my time and my work,” replied Callum. “Do I want to put everything into a place if it’s not where I want to stay? That’s what I’m here to decide.”
They continued to question Callum — where he was from, why he came, what he was doing and his next steps.
“Honestly, I needed a fresh start,” Callum responded to them, reciting his well-rehearsed cover story. “There is no work in Scotland, no food. So here I am.”
He tried to turn the conversation, questioning them about their trade and their new roles, but they were more interested in him and the day’s events.
“Did ye see that lassie get off the train?” asked Alistair. “My but she was something. There’s going to be more than one or two men lined up at Sarah Carter’s door to ask the miss out for a walk around the lakes.”
“Who’s Sarah Carter?” Callum asked, keeping his tone light.
“Oh, she’s the doctor’s widow,” said Mrs. Johnson, as she came to clear the plates. “The old doctor, I should say, not the new doctor. Sarah now helps the new doctor, Dr. Hampton.”
“And the girl?” asked Callum.
“You didn’t notice that beauty on the train here? She’s Sarah’s niece,” said Mrs. Johnson. “If you’re interested, you best get over there before the rest of town sees her.”
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