Later that afternoon, Anne walked down to the dugout. With a nervous whistle, she called to the milk cows, just as Erik had done that morning.
“Hey up! Hey up!”
At first the cows simply stared at her, but after a moment of indecision, they began to head for the barn. Anne followed, feeling equal parts pride and relief.
By the time she herded them into the barn, Astrid and Erik were already there, preparing for the evening milking. They ushered each cow into her stall, the mangers already filled with hay and grain. Suddenly Astrid began to chuckle. Then Anne heard Erik’s deep laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
Ingrid walked into the barn at that moment. “Yes, what’s so funny?”
“Oh Anne, I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you, but—”
Astrid snorted with laughter, unable to speak. She pointed toward the two animals in the last stall. Ingrid stepped closer to inspect and then began to chuckle.
“Oh, I see the problem.”
Anne threw up her hands. “Will someone please tell me what’s so damn funny?”
Erik crooked his finger. “Come with me.”
He led her down the middle of the barn, leaning heavily on his cane. The cows contentedly munched on their hay, tails swishing happily, oblivious to the human merriment around them.
“Take a look, Anne. What do you see?”
“I see the backsides of a lot of cows. What of it?”
“Look a little closer, under the cows.”
Anne ducked her head for a better inspection. “I see the bag where the milk is kept. What do you call that?”
“The udder. Now look closely at the udder of each cow.”
Anne walked down the row of stalls, her annoyance growing. What on earth was he trying to tell her? Every cow looked the same from underneath, the same swollen udder waiting to be milked.
“They’re all the same. I don’t understand—”
She stopped short and stared at the bovines in the last stall. Anne smiled, finally catching the joke.
“Well,” she said, pretending to carefully study the animals. “I’m afraid you’re going to have a difficult time milking these two. Unless I miss my guess, they’re male.”
Ingrid broke out in laughter and Astrid wiped tears of mirth from her cheeks. She put her arm around Anne and gave her a squeeze.
“Oh, my dear, I haven’t laughed so hard in a very long time.”
Erik laughed as well, the sound warming her heart. When he smiled he looked years younger, and so handsome her heart caught in her throat.
She blinked at him, confused at her thoughts. It had only been two days since she’d learned of Anders’s marriage. Shouldn’t she still be mourning the death of their relationship? Shouldn’t she still be missing him?
In a heartbeat she recognized that she didn’t miss Anders at all. Her pride had taken a beating because of his dismissal, but she was more concerned about the uncertainty of her future than in losing Anders.
Had she ever really loved him, or had she wanted her own family so badly that she’d convinced herself she did?
“Come on,” Erik said. “Let’s kick these two out and find our missing ladies. When we come back, maybe Ingrid will show you how the milking is done.”
Anne stared into his blue eyes. Someday, if she married, she promised herself if would be for love.
“Lead the way.”
****
Ingrid gently massaged the cow’s udder and then pulled on the teat. A stream of white, creamy milk flowed into the pail below.
“You have to be calm and patient, and gentle. The happier the cow is, the more milk you’ll get.”
“Some farmers, mostly men, are too impatient,” Astrid added. “They pull on the teats so hard that the milk ducts become blocked and the cow gets mastitis.”
Anne’s training as a nurse kicked in at the word. “Human mothers can get mastitis, too. I understand it can be quite painful. At least that’s what I was told. I’ve never worked in obstetrics or pediatrics, other than in short stints during my training.”
“Where did you work during the war, Anne?” Ingrid asked.
“At St. Bartholomew’s in London. I assisted in the operating theater, but mostly I looked after patients on the wards.”
Astrid sighed. “Erik needs another surgery on his leg. The doctor in Prince Albert wants to remove the remaining shrapnel.”
“When is he having the surgery?”
Astrid shrugged one shoulder as she continued to milk her cow. “I don’t know. He’s being stubborn about it. He’s says we haven’t the money for the surgery, and he’s too busy on the farm. I think he’s just scared.”
Anne could understand his fear. The prospect of going under the knife for a second time was daunting. He already knew how long and painful his recovery would be. But she also knew that, without the surgery, the pain might not subside. If the shrapnel moved and damaged tissue, the pain could increase and leave him immobile. Anne went cold at the thought.
Ingrid pulled the bucket of milk from under her cow and set it by the door. “I think the pain is getting worse. He won’t say anything to us, but I can see that his movements are becoming stiffer and slower. That’s why we’ve taken over the milking. He was finding it too uncomfortable to crouch under the cows like this. We kicked him out, but we told him it was because he wasn’t gentle enough with our girls.”
Astrid moved to a new cow, stretching her back before sitting on her small stool once more. “It was nice to hear him laugh again today. I don’t think I’ve heard his laugh since he came home from the war.”
“I think you’re right, Ma,” Ingrid said, winking at Anne. “And I think we’ve got Anne here to thank for that.”
“Because I can’t tell the difference between a female cow and a male one? I have to say, it really doesn’t take much to amuse you people.”
Astrid laughed. “Dear Anne. I’m glad we got to meet you. I only wish things had been different.”
Anne swallowed and looked away. She’d miss Astrid and Ingrid when she left.
And Erik.
“Now it’s time for you to try,” Ingrid said, patting the rump of an enormous white cow. “Old Bessie here is the gentlest of the lot. She’ll be patient with you.”
Anne sat on Ingrid’s three-legged stool and positioned the milk pail beneath Bessie’s udder. She cautiously took hold of one of the teats.
“Remember, keep calm and Bessie will do all the work.”
“Did you hear that, Bessie?” Anne rested her forehead against the cow’s side. “You’re supposed to do all the work. Think you can help me out, love?”
Bessie gave a plaintive moo, as if to tell her to get on with it. Anne took a deep breath, then pulled tentatively on the teat. Nothing.
“Try again, but more firmly. I promise you won’t hurt her.”
Anne increased the pressure. A trickle of milk splattered into the pail.
“Bessie, you did it!”
Ingrid put her hand on Anne’s shoulder, laughing. “We’ll make a farm girl of you yet!”
****
The next three days flew by in a flurry of activity. Erik watched as Anne took the cows to the dugout for water in the morning and brought them back every afternoon. Even though each day felt a little colder and the hours of sunlight were a little shorter, she carried on, dressing in extra layers of clothes borrowed from Ingrid.
She persevered with the milking, as well. Though nowhere near as fast as Astrid and Ingrid, she was quickly becoming a proficient milkmaid.
He was proud of her. After being jilted by his brother, she could have wallowed in self-pity. She didn’t have to face the cold or struggle with lighting the cookstove. But instead she wanted to help, to be part of what they did.
He couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore.
He’d tried to harden his heart toward her, or to at least keep her a safe distance away, but after only seven days of her livin
g at their farm, Erik knew he had to face the truth, at least to himself.
He was in love with his brother’s ex-fiancée.
Could he ask her to stay? He shook his head as he cleaned the stalls. She wouldn’t want to marry him.
And he had to acknowledge his uneasiness about her relationship with Anders. They’d been engaged. Did that mean they’d been intimate?
The thought of Anne making love to his brother caused a knot of anger and jealousy to form in the pit of his stomach.
He pushed the image forcibly away, unable to even think about it.
It didn’t matter how he felt about her; Anne’s feelings for him, if she had any, were more important. He knew he was no prize. He was scarred and barely able to walk. He wasn’t even certain he’d be able to provide for her. And he had dark moods that sometimes took him to frightening places.
Yet since Anne arrived, the sunshine had returned to his life.
Erik finished cleaning the barn and headed back to the house for lunch. His mother and sister were fussing over Anne’s hair.
“What are you two doing?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the woodstove. They’d curled Anne’s dark, shiny hair in waves that fell around her shoulders. His fingers itched to touch the soft curls.
“We’re getting ready to go into town this afternoon,” Ingrid said. “I’ve already put the cream cans on the back of the truck.”
“Cream cans?” Anne asked.
“Whatever cream we can’t use ourselves we ship by train to the dairy in Saskatoon,” Astrid explained. “We make a little extra money for groceries that way.”
“And other necessities, like lipstick and silk stockings,” Ingrid said with a smile. “You wanted to post your letter to the Red Cross, didn’t you, Anne? We can do that today.”
Anne glanced at him before she answered. “Yes, I need to post that letter.”
“I should warn you, dear. People in town are very curious about you,” Astrid said. “Someone might say something that seems a little rude or forward.”
Anne’s forehead wrinkled in worry. “Oh. I see.”
“Most of them aren’t cruel, just curious. In a small town like Emerald, everyone knows everyone else’s business. They know about you and Anders, and that he’s married to Signe now.”
“I don’t want to embarrass you. Maybe it would be best if I stayed home. Perhaps one of you can post my letter.”
“No,” Erik said. “You’ll come with us. And if anyone says a single unkind word to you, they’re going to have to deal with me.”
Anne blinked at him a moment. “All right, if you’re sure it’s the right thing to do, then I’ll come with you.”
“Good. Now that’s settled, what’s for lunch?”
He meant it. He wouldn’t let anyone harass Anne.
And he couldn’t let her slip from his life. Somehow he had to convince her to stay.
Chapter Five
As soon as she entered the dry-goods store with the Gustafsons, all conversation stopped and everyone turned their attention toward them. Though she’d been warned her presence might cause an unusual reaction, she wasn’t prepared to be stared at like the prize chicken at the country fair.
Beside her she felt Erik tense, and when she dared a glance she saw his jaw clenched in anger. Astrid took her hand and led her toward the front counter.
“Hello, Myrtle. I’d like to introduce you to Anne Wakefield. She’ll be staying with us for a while. Anne, this is Myrtle Johansson. She and her husband own the dry-goods store.”
Anne extended her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Johansson.”
“Pleased to meet you too, Anne. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Anne didn’t want to question exactly what she’d heard. Instead she smiled. “I believe Mrs. Gustafson has a few things she wishes to purchase.”
With that she stepped back and let Astrid take over the conversation. Unfortunately, one of the store’s patrons took her backing away from one conversation as an invitation to start another.
“Anne Wakefield, how nice to meet you. Some people said you wouldn’t show your face in town, but I told them you have nothing to be ashamed of. You can hold your head up high in Emerald, as far as I’m concerned.”
Anne had no idea what to say. She blinked at the large woman in the blue wool coat for a moment before answering with, “Thank you.”
This seemed to please the woman. “The nerve of that Gustafson boy, getting engaged to you when he already had a girl back home. And then leaving you high and dry. You must be so angry you could spit.”
Erik stepped to her side and touched her elbow. “Anne, I don’t think Mrs. Weldon has properly introduced herself. Mr. and Mrs. Weldon farm about five miles east of Emerald.”
“How do you do, Mrs. Weldon.”
“Well, how do you do, Anne Wakefield.” She tittered. “Silly me. I was so excited to meet you, I forgot to tell you who I was.”
“That’s all right.” Anne had no idea why she’d be so excited to meet her. Life in Emerald must run at an exceedingly slow pace if she was the highlight of conversation.
“You must come and visit us while you’re here. Have you decided whether you are going to stay in Emerald or go back to England?”
“My plan is to go back to England,” she said. Was there a polite way to end the conversation? She was aware that the half dozen or so other people in the store were listening.
“As I said, it was so unfair of Anders Gustafson to leave you high and dry like that. If I was you, I’d want to tell him off real good. I’d want to shout from the mountaintops how badly he’d treated me. Don’t you want to do that, Anne?”
Erik took a step toward the older woman. “Listen, Mrs. Weldon—”
Anne put out her hand to stop his advance. “Actually, Mrs. Weldon, I wish nothing but happiness for Anders and Signe. Anders is a good man, a war hero. He deserves it.”
Mrs. Weldon’s small, dark eyes regarded her keenly. She shook her head. “Well, good for you, Anne Wakefield. You’re a better woman than me, that’s for sure.”
With that, she said a cheery goodbye and walked out of the store, leaving Anne a little shell-shocked for a moment. Erik gave her elbow a squeeze in silent support. Knowing he’d been ready to fight for her, she felt safe and protected.
His stoic expression gave no hint to his feelings. Aside from showing his protective instincts, he hadn’t given any indication of any deeper feelings for her. He treated her the same way he’d treat Ingrid if she got into a spot of trouble.
Like a sister.
Did she want more from Erik than brotherly affection?
****
When they got back to the farm late that afternoon, the sun hovered low on the western horizon, giving the world a half-light glow. By the time they unloaded groceries and made their way out to the barn, it was full dark, the moon obscured by clouds. Anne shivered. The darkness made her feel colder, despite her layers of borrowed clothing. The temperature had dropped dramatically over the course of the afternoon, and it seeped into her bones. She’d never experienced anything like it.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to find your way to the dugout in the dark?” Erik asked. “Maybe I should come with you.”
“I’ll be fine. You’ve got enough work feeding the animals.” Anne hoped she sounded confident. She didn’t want Erik to think he had to look out for her. “Besides, I’m sure the cows can find their way. They’re a lot smarter than I am.”
He chuckled. “I doubt that. Just be careful.”
“I will.”
She began the quarter-mile trek to the dugout. Though she’d taken this same route morning and afternoon the last three days, the darkness disoriented her, making familiar landmarks unrecognizable. She tightened the scarf around her neck and kept moving.
At last she saw the copse of trees near the dugout, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Just ahead, she could make out the forms of the cattle. They c
ried their annoyance at her lateness.
“I’m sorry, ladies. I was unavoidably detained. Hey up! Let’s go! “
They began to move single file in the direction of the barn. One stubborn cow hung back, refusing to join the others. Anne walked toward her.
“Hey up! Get moving, you old bag! I’m freezing!”
Still the cow remained immobile. Anne walked over a small hill and down the other side. “For goodness sake, cow, get a move on!”
Suddenly she heard a loud crack. Without warning she felt herself falling. Within seconds she was immersed in ice-cold water. She didn’t even have time to scream.
Chapter Six
The cows filed into the barn and headed to their stalls. When they were all in place, Erik stepped through the open door, searching through the darkness. Where was she?
“Anne!” he shouted. He listened but there was no reply.
“Ingrid,” he called, limping back into the barn. “Run to the house and see if Anne is there. She didn’t come back with the cows.”
“Do you think something’s happened to her?”
“I don’t know. Just go!”
Ingrid took off on the run. A couple of moments later she was back.
“She’s not in the house. Maybe she got lost in the dark.”
He knew he should have gone with her. He grabbed his cane. “I’m going to look for her.”
Ingrid put a coat over her heavy sweater. “I’m coming with you. We have to find her. It’s starting to snow.”
“Ma, stay here in case Anne makes it back on her own. If she does, ring the bell,” Erik said, referring to the old cast iron bell mounted to the side of the barn. “We should be able to hear it from wherever we are.”
Astrid nodded, her face grim. “I will. Just find her. Hurry!”
They set off. Ingrid ran several yards ahead of him, and he cursed himself for not being able to keep up. His leg ached unbearably from the effort and from the cold, but he couldn’t stop. Something was wrong. He could feel it.
A few moments later they reached the dugout. Ingrid ran up the small hill and disappeared down the other side. Suddenly she ran back to the top of the hill.
“Erik! She’s here! I think she fell in the water. She’s soaked and she can’t move!”
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