He reached out, took her hand, and pulled her from her seat up to his side.
“Did you prepare that all by yourself?” asked Allison, peeking into the basket.
“I had some help. Now come, before the weather changes.”
“We’ll still need coats.”
“What else were coats invented for?” he answered playfully. “I remember reading all about it. Voila! The coat has been invented; now the world can picnic!”
“Logan, you are crazy!” exclaimed Allison, dropping her sewing and jumping up. “I’ll get the baby ready.”
In ten minutes they were all three in the Austin bumping along a back road that ran south behind the estate. Though rutted and unpaved, the road traversed mostly flat terrain with acres of crop land spreading out to the right and left. Already the farmers were out in the fields plowing and preparing the earth for spring planting. Allison and Logan waved at old Fergie, the estate’s factor, as he huffed and puffed, carrying his jelly-like frame across the newly made furrows back to his truck.
After some distance the road veered toward the west, and the cultivated land gave way to low-lying hills covered with now dormant heather. The Austin groaned and labored its way up and down one incline after another, and at the top of one Logan stopped for a few minutes to let it cool down a bit.
“Where are we going?” asked Allison, finally able to contain her curiosity no longer.
“A secret place,” answered Logan, grinning as he started up the engine and pulled back onto the road.
“I grew up here, Logan. How can you have a secret spot that I know nothing about?”
“Just you wait, my dear.”
Allison sat back expectantly as the familiar countryside of her home rolled past. The day was going to be a magical one; she sensed it in the very air around them. In the four days since Logan had returned to Stonewycke, her confidence in their relationship had grown tremendously. She was more sure of Logan than she had been for some time, and knew that this afternoon would be the perfect time to bring up a subject she now felt certain he would be enthusiastic about. It had been on her mind constantly ever since she had received his telegram, and now the time was right. Perhaps God had at last arranged everything perfectly for the plan that had been in the back of her mind for months.
All at once the car came to a stop. Deep in thought, Allison had scarcely noticed that they had slowed and pulled off the road. Glancing around, she realized that the place was indeed unfamiliar to her. The ground had turned rocky, and the road, which had been gradually disintegrating, now disappeared altogether.
“All ashore!” declared Logan. “We’ve a wee hike before we reach our destination.”
He hopped out of the car and in a moment was lifting the sleeping baby off Allison’s lap with one hand, while he helped Allison out with the other.
“I’ll get the basket,” said Allison.
Logan hoisted his daughter, waking now to the activity around her, onto his shoulders, the child giggling with glee. “Daddy!” she squealed happily.
The sight brought tears to Allison’s eyes. It was so right, so perfect. She had waited so long for this reunion, this rekindling of their love, for the old Logan to surface once again. This was where they belonged. Why had they fought so much . . . why had they even gone to London? This was their life. God had given them a wonderful family and a beautiful home in Scotland. There was no reason for them not to be content. And as she observed her husband and daughter together, Allison sighed, never doubting that they would be together like this from now on.
She followed Logan through a small wood, and after about ten minutes the densely packed pine trees opened out into a secluded little meadow. Three sides remained walled by the wood, and on the fourth, below a steep bank, the icy cold Lindow River splashed and danced on its way to the sea.
“How on earth did you find this place?” asked Allison when they paused in the middle of the lush green grass of the meadow. “It’s beautiful!”
Logan smiled, feeling quite pleased with himself. “Your mother told me about it last night when I asked her where a good spot for a picnic might be. I wish I could say it was my own discovery. But honesty forces me to fess up!”
Allison laughed. “You always were a shrewd one, Logan. But I wonder why she never told us about it, or brought us here.”
“I asked her that myself,” replied Logan. “She told me she always thought it would bring more pleasure to the one who made the discovery on his own. She said she and Alec used to bring you children near here all the time, hoping that one day you would make the discovery. But so far Ian is the only one to have found it.”
“But she told you?”
Logan laughed. “I suppose she figured with my ignorance of the country life and my city ways, I would never find it on my own. Besides, I told her I wanted someplace special.”
“So that’s it,” said Allison. She put her arms around Logan and lightly kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
But the youngster, still perched atop her daddy, had no patience for tender love scenes, and called out, “Daddy, down!”
Logan swung her gently into his arms, and then with a great fatherly hug and kiss set her on the ground where she immediately took off gleefully through the grass. Logan turned to assist Allison with the picnic things.
“Your mother said some old folks she knew by the name of Cuttahay first showed her this spot,” said Logan as he shook out the blanket and spread it on the grass.
“Oh yes. The Cuttahays were the first friends Mother had here in Port Strathy,” said Allison.
“Well, apparently they used to come here when they were courting. Old Mr. Cuttahay used to strip off his shirt, dive into the water, then swim to the other side and back, just to impress his sweetheart,” said Logan. As he spoke he stood up and sauntered toward the riverbank.
Allison giggled. “I can hardly imagine old Nathaniel diving into the Lindow.” Then she gasped, “Logan, what are you doing?”
As Allison spoke, Logan had dramatically begun to tear off his coat and shirt.
“I can impress my lassie, too!”
Allison burst into disbelieving laughter.
“But the water’s freezing. You’ll catch your death of cold!”
“I’m a rugged fellow,” said Logan, making ready to dive.
“But you don’t need to impress me, Logan,” she said, with as much earnestness as her mirth would allow.
“I don’t?” he replied. Though his face continued to smile as he glanced back at her, his voice momentarily sounded as if a small part of him truly was surprised with her statement.
Had Allison been more secure within herself concerning their relationship, his simple question might have slipped by almost unnoticed. She might even have continued the lighthearted banter in kind. However, his tone stung her, and before she even realized what was happening, she had blurted out words she quickly regretted.
“Logan, I don’t think you’ve ever really known me!” Her lip trembled as she spoke, as she fought back tears.
Logan stepped back from the edge of the bank, his merry mood suddenly gone. He gathered up his things, hurried to Allison’s side and knelt down on the blanket, facing her.
“I was only joking,” he said. The fib came so easily to his lips. His inner self excused it on the grounds that lying was better at the moment than strife.
“Oh, never mind about it,” replied Allison, forcing a bright smile to her face, and hastily wiping her eyes dry. “I’d better get the baby.”
She jumped up and went off after their daughter, spending some time helping the child pick flowers and chase a butterfly. Allison prolonged the diversion long enough to regain her self-control.
When she returned Logan had laid out lunch, and the three ate while Logan and Allison chatted about things inconsequential, using the antics of their daughter as a protective shield to keep the conversation light. But a stilted air settled over the remainder of the afternoon, as if e
ach saw that despite the surface merriment, the hurts and stresses continued to simmer as though in a covered pot. Yet both Allison and Logan clung determinedly to the surface appearance of cordiality, not wanting the cover to blow off again, desperate to avoid a confrontation.
Had Allison considered it carefully, she would have altogether forgotten about what she had hoped to discuss with Logan. However, the peaceful meadow, filled with pleasant ghosts from the past, and the reassuring roar of the river, along with the semblance of congeniality between them, all combined to lull her into a forgetful state of security. I won’t let my own emotions out, she thought; only mention the thing and then let it drop.
The three finished lunch, walked about the meadow, hiked through a portion of the wood, and then returned to the blanket to partake of the sweet shortbread the cook had baked the day before. Logan stretched himself out, leaning lazily against an old stump, while little Joanna climbed sleepily into his lap.
“You are a dear thing, my sweet little lass,” he said, lovingly stroking her mass of amber-colored curls. “I often wonder how I could have deserved such a blessing.”
“Lady Margaret would have said that we don’t deserve God’s blessings,” replied Allison, “but we receive them only because He loves us so.”
“Or would she perhaps quote my old progenitor Digory to say it?” laughed Logan. “She did like to tell me about him. I suppose she thought it would make me more receptive to know that spiritual blood flowed in my veins. The dear old lady—I still miss her.”
“Don’t we all!”
“I can just hear her say it, like you said. And the words were never truer than in my case.” Logan reached out and took Allison’s hand. “Why am I not more thankful, more receptive to His blessings to me?”
“I know,” said Allison. “Since I’ve come back home, though I’ve grumbled and complained more than I should, I now see I have everything anyone could want.”
“And you’re happy, Ali?” Logan, too, had forgotten to take care of dangerous ground.
“Now that you’re here with me, Logan, I’m more than happy—I’m ecstatic!”
Logan sighed, then reached out his arm and drew her close. Allison laid her head peacefully against him, and the next several minutes were spent just quietly listening to the lovely sounds of spring.
“For the first time in a long time, Logan,” said Allison at length, “I feel we can begin to think of the future.”
“Not many want to do that during wartime,” replied Logan. “It’s dangerous to make plans when everything is so uncertain.”
“But it’s different for us,” answered Allison confidently. “I know you’ve felt bad about not getting into the army, about not having a job you liked, about not doing anything you felt was important, but now I see that maybe God planned it that way for us.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t say why, but I really believe we’ve been given something special, something better than jobs or wealth or anything, and we’d be foolish not to accept it and take advantage of it.”
“How do you mean ‘take advantage of it’?” asked Logan, unable to restrain the caution creeping into his tone. “Accept what?”
“Accept who we are, where we are, and then try to have the very best family we can have.”
“I see . . .”
“Like it’s been these last few days, Logan.”
“They have been wonderful.”
“And now that you’re going to stay—”
“Allison—”
But she hurried on, unable, or unwilling, to hear her hopes contradicted.
“Logan,” she said excitedly, “I’ve found the perfect job for you—right here in Port Strathy. I’ve been dying to tell you, but it wasn’t confirmed until yesterday.”
“You went out and found me a job?”
“It wasn’t exactly like that,” she hurriedly replied. “But I heard that Mr. Thomas, who manages the fish plant, was retiring. I just knew you’d be right for the job, so I spoke to—”
“I already have a job, Allison.”
“Yes, but this is here, and now that you’re staying—”
“That’s another thing. Whoever said I was staying?”
“But it only makes sense to—”
“I’ll tell you what makes sense,” interrupted Logan, the measured calm of his voice finally breaking and giving way to the simmering anger rising within him. “It makes sense that a man finds his own jobs, and that he has some say in where he lives!”
“But I thought—”
“Allison,” he said slowly and calmly. He closed his eyes and tried to force the anger from his tone. When he continued, a certain forced gentleness had returned to his voice. He deeply wanted to make her able to understand. “I’m sorry if I let you think that. But I never said we were going to live here. I’m not sure myself what the future holds. But right now I’m doing something I enjoy and I’m not ready to make a change.”
“You’re never sure! And while you’re trying to decide what to do with your life, your daughter and I bounce about never knowing what tomorrow will bring. What kind of life do you think it’s been for us?”
“Is that really how it’s been for you?”
“Yes.”
“But we’ve been in the same flat in London for years.”
“With no sense of permanency. We never could feel settled, for at the drop of a hat you might take a job in South America. We are always on the edge, Logan. I’m always wondering what you’re going to be doing next. All I want is a real home.”
“No, Allison. All you want is to live here at Stonewycke!”
“Is that so terrible?”
“But don’t you see—this is your home. It’s not mine—or ours.”
“Why can’t it be yours?”
“Because it’s not mine! You’re the heir, the daughter. I’m nothing but the distant offshoot of a hired hand. I’ve got to make something of myself—on my own! Don’t you see? How else can I stand on my own two feet? I thought you understood that when you married me!”
“I thought I understood a lot of things when we got married.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that I thought I knew you, that’s all.”
“Oh, fine! So you wouldn’t have married me in the first place if you’d known that someday I wanted to be a man in my own right, on my own terms! You wanted me to be satisfied tinkering with farm equipment all my life?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t have married you, Logan.”
“You just as well as said it! I may not know where everything fits, or exactly what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. But I would certainly expect more loyalty than that from a wife!”
“So it’s my fault you can’t hold a job?”
“I’ve held my jobs! And been good at them, too! No thanks to you, always out gallivanting around with your society friends.”
“You leave my friends out of it! If it weren’t for them, I’d have gone crazy in London, thanks to you!”
“You see what I mean? That’s some loyalty from a wife!”
“What do you expect when you never talk, don’t even tell me what you do?”
“You never showed any interest! Then whenever I did try to say anything about my work, all you did was criticize it and tell me I ought to go back to Stonewycke. Is it any wonder I couldn’t find anything that seemed right?”
“If you’d stick to something, maybe it would become right.”
“How can I do that when I don’t know what it is I want to stick to?”
“Logan, you’re thirty-two years old. Don’t you think it’s time you decided?”
The words tore painfully into Logan, for they exposed a part of him he desperately sought to avoid. Were he to face the full implication of Allison’s words honestly, he feared he might have to admit that their problems truly were his fault, stemming from his inability to accept the responsibilities that life had given him. Therefore,
he lashed angrily out at her instead.
“And if I don’t, if it takes me some time to find the right thing, then you are going to do it for me, is that it? You can’t wait for me to make my own way?”
“Oh, Logan, sometimes you can be so immature!”
Had he not been holding baby Joanna in his arms, Logan would at that moment have jumped up and stalked away. But though his entire body was taut, he remained where he was. The child stirred and whimpered restlessly, even though he had fought to keep his voice low. Logan stroked her hair and tried to quiet her; the muscles in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, but he remained silent.
“It’s an excellent job, Logan,” Allison continued, trying to sound calm, as if to make up for her cruel outburst. “Very well-paying, and not without prestige in this town.”
“But I don’t want it!”
“You just said you don’t know what you want,” pleaded Allison.
“When are you going to realize that I can’t live by the patterns you devise? A man has got to live his own life!”
“I don’t understand you!” replied Allison, growing tearful. “Aren’t we supposed to want the same things?”
“But you seem to think you’re in a better position to determine my future than I am.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Allison! You were trying to get me to do what you thought would be best—what would be best for you. How many times have you stopped to ask yourself what might be best for me?”
“I thought it would be best for you.”
“I think you’re deceiving yourself. Just because I’m unsure of my future doesn’t mean I have to jump to your side of the fence and take anything that’s offered.”
“I didn’t know we were on different sides!”
“Well, the way you treat me like a little child who can’t even make his own decision, I don’t know what else you’d call it!”
He deposited the baby in her arms, jumped up, and started to walk away. If they hadn’t had to drive home together, he would have kept going.
“We can’t talk anymore, can we, Logan?” said Allison. Silent tears dropped from her eyes.
“We were doing fine until you started trying to maneuver and manipulate my life.” As he spoke he did not turn to face her. He knew his words were only half the truth. Even in the midst of his anger, he knew she was right about two things. She had only been trying to help, and he was immature. But why couldn’t she just accept him like he was and let him find his own help? He was as good a husband as a lot of men. Why couldn’t she just lay off?
Shadows over Stonewycke Page 8