Homecoming Girls

by Val Wood

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she began, but he interrupted her. His face was serious.

  ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Why is Da so set against Jewel? He told Dan that if he married her he needn’t come back home.’ His face creased with anxiety and puzzlement. ‘He’s always been against her, but more so since we grew up.’ A torrent of words tumbled out. ‘This’ll sound daft, but it’s as if he’s scared of her for some reason, and more scared that Dan might ask for her. Not that she’d have him, of course,’ he added.

  Grace gave a sigh. ‘I think we’re all agreed on that. But as for why . . .’ She hesitated. ‘Have you spoken to your mother about it?’

  He gave a small shrug. ‘Not really. I don’t like to interfere. But it’s Ma who takes ’brunt of his bad humour, and lately she hardly talks to him. It’s as if she’s given up trying to coax him any more.’

  ‘He never used to be like this,’ Grace said softly. ‘He was the kindest, gentlest man you could wish to meet.’

  ‘Well, you knew him better than anybody, Aunt Grace. Why do you think he’s changed so much?’

  Grace knew why; she’d always known the reason for Daniel’s discomfort when Jewel was around, but it wasn’t her place to tell his son.

  ‘You’ll have to ask your ma and da, Thomas,’ she said. ‘I really couldn’t say.’

  He nodded, and changed the subject. ‘Have you heard from Clara? I’ve only had one letter.’

  ‘Not since they left for California, but I’ve written to her to tell her about Dan travelling with Georgiana.’ She frowned a little. ‘Georgiana wrote to tell Jewel, but she was unsure what his plans were, whether he would go to Dreumel’s Creek or travel to San Francisco . . .’ Her voice tailed away. ‘What do you think, Thomas? What do you think he’ll do?’

  ‘I hope he’ll be diverted from thinking about Jewel by being in another country and seeing different things,’ Thomas said. ‘He’d be devastated if he travelled to San Francisco and Jewel didn’t want him there. I just hope that there’ll be so much for him to do and see that she won’t be ’chief object of his thoughts. She’s always distracted him from ’true purpose of his life.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Why, being happy and satisfied with what he does. He’s a fine wood worker. He never really enjoys making small crafts as I do; but he could build a house if he’d a mind to.’

  ‘And what about you, Thomas?’ Grace smiled. ‘Do you never get distracted?’

  ‘Oh aye!’ Thomas’s cheeks took on a rosy hue. ‘All the time. But ’difference between me and Dan is that I have hope, and I’m prepared to wait for what I want. And in ’meantime, while I’m waiting, I’m busy. Busy thinking and making plans.’

  He took a breath and chewed on his lower lip, and Grace realized that he wasn’t as confident or self-assured as he made himself out to be. ‘But what I need is somebody to say I’m doing ’right thing.’ He swallowed. ‘And that somebody isn’t here right now.’

  Ruby called round to see Grace later in the day. ‘Thomas said you’d been whilst I was out.’ She slipped off her shawl when Grace asked her to sit down and rang for tea. ‘Did you come for owt in particular?’

  Ruby always slipped into her local dialect when she was with Grace or people she knew well, although she tried her hardest to modify her voice when she was with customers, even though Grace told her that she should always remain true to her real personality.

  ‘I did,’ Grace said, unable to keep a beam from her face or her voice. ‘Elizabeth visited us yesterday. She has some news and she said that I might tell you.’

  ‘Oh!’ Ruby put her hand to her mouth. ‘She’s expecting?’ she breathed. ‘Is she?’

  ‘Yes. Isn’t it wonderful? I’m so pleased.’ Grace clasped her hands together. ‘I was bursting to tell you and you weren’t there! I didn’t say a word to Thomas, of course; it’s early days and Elizabeth’ll want to make the announcement herself once they’ve told Patrick’s parents.’

  ‘Is he pleased? Patrick, I mean.’ She leaned forward and whispered confidentially, ‘He seems such a cold fish. I wouldn’t know what to say to him; not that we’re likely to mix in ’same circles.’

  Grace laughed. ‘I think he’s better for knowing. Elizabeth says he’s very witty, but I can’t say I’ve noticed. But yes, Elizabeth says that he’s delighted and of course he’s hoping for a son.’

  Ruby preened, having two sons of her own. ‘Well, he will be.’ Then she smiled. ‘And you’ll want a little girl.’

  ‘As long as it comes safely, I shan’t mind what it is,’ Grace answered softly. ‘But it’d be rather nice to have a little boy to play with. I haven’t told Clara yet. I’d only just posted a letter to her when Elizabeth called. She’ll write to tell her herself, of course.’

  ‘I won’t breathe a word, I promise,’ Ruby said, and then looked rather disconsolate. ‘I wish my lads would shake themselves up in that department. I don’t know what Dan’ll do if – when Jewel spurns him.’

  ‘Ruby, you ought to speak to Thomas,’ Grace said earnestly, and then waited as the maid brought in a tray of tea and left it on a side table for her to pour. ‘Tell him why his da’s acting in ’way he does over Dan and Jewel. It would clear the air.’

  Ruby took a sip of tea and nodded. ‘I know, but I can’t. I’m too embarrassed and ashamed, if I’m honest.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby!’ Grace exclaimed. ‘It was such a long time ago. We were living a different life then. Your sons and my daughters have no idea what we went through, although I’ve told some of it to Clara and Elizabeth. Martin and I did that when they were small children; we took them to see ’courts and alleys where ’poor still live, to give them some understanding that life is not always fair.’

  Ruby took out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. ‘I know you did; but you pulled yourself up, Grace. I fell into ’gutter, and sometimes,’ she gave a huge sigh, ‘sometimes I feel as if that’s where I really belong.’

  As she walked back home, Ruby huddled into her shawl. Grace had told her that she shouldn’t feel any shame. That what she did was her means of surviving, but Ruby couldn’t see it that way. I was wicked, she thought, and that’s why Daniel acts in ’way he does. He just never forgets that he wasn’t ’first.

  She went into the house by the side door. There was a fire burning brightly. Somebody was home and had added more coal. I’ll never get used to seeing a fire burning in ’hearth, she mused. It’s one of my greatest pleasures; that and having food on ’table every day.

  She called out ‘Hello’, and two voices answered. Daniel and Thomas. ‘You’re both home, then,’ she said with forced cheerfulness as she went into the kitchen. ‘That’s good. I’ve got some nice chops for supper. I’ll put them on in a minute.’

  Her boots were nipping her toes and she sat down to take them off.

  ‘Here, let me do that.’ Daniel knelt on the floor beside her and began to unfasten the laces. He pulled off her boots and tenderly rubbed her toes.

  Ruby gazed at him in astonishment. They had travelled to Beverley and back in virtual silence. No topic of conversation she instigated had brought any more response than a brief yes or no. So what had happened since then to make a change in him?

  ‘Da and me have been having a bit of a chat while you were out, Ma,’ Thomas piped up. ‘We’ve got summat to discuss.’

  ‘Have you?’ Ruby said nervously. ‘What?’

  ‘Mainly about Jewel and why Da’s set against her. When I asked him he promised he’d discuss it when you came home.’

  ‘Nay, lad,’ Daniel broke in, getting to his feet. ‘I’ve nowt against Jewel personally.’

  Thomas gave a grunt. ‘You could’ve fooled me.’

  ‘No,’ Ruby said slowly. ‘He hasn’t. It’s me. It’s me and our Dan that your da’s got a concern about. He’s scared that Dan will ask Jewel to marry him and that she’d be family – not that she’d have him, but your da can’t see that any more than Dan can.’

  ‘I don’t unders
tand,’ Thomas said. ‘Will somebody please explain?’

  ‘Yes,’ his mother said. ‘I will. It can come out in ’open and then you, Daniel, once I’ve spoken of my shame, can decide what you want to do. We can live in harmony as man and wife or I can just become somebody who cooks and cleans for you.’

  ‘Ruby!’ Daniel protested. ‘Don’t say such a thing.’

  She ignored him, even though she could see tears in his eyes. ‘When I was young, Thomas, I was as poor as ’proverbial church mouse—’

  ‘I know that, Ma,’ Thomas said.

  ‘But I reckon that ’church mouse had more to eat than I did.’ She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘Or Grace did or anybody that I knew, including your father, did. Church mouse at least had a bone or two to chew on. Grace sold a few things in ’market. Do you remember that, Daniel? After you’d left to go to sea, she sold some of ’carvings that you’d left behind for her to burn on ’fire. Me and my ma, we didn’t have a hearth so we had no fire. Nothing,’ she said bitterly. ‘We had nowt but a mattress on ’floor. Not even a chair to sit on.’

  She took a breath, and when she began again her voice trembled and Daniel put his hands over his face.

  ‘But I got an offer,’ she said. ‘From a gentleman; and I accepted it. This gentleman fed me and clothed me, gave me a room of my own with a hearth and furniture – and a bed. It’s that bed that’s causing your da such a problem. Oh yes,’ she added. ‘And this fine gentleman was so besotted with me that he left his wife and asked me to go away with him to America.’

  Her face was awash with tears but she didn’t brush them away. ‘But do you know what, Thomas? Even though this gentleman said that he loved me and would look after me . . .’

  Her voice was choked and Thomas bit his lip but didn’t move to touch her or say anything, for he felt that she would break in two if he did.

  ‘Even then,’ she continued, ‘even though I could’ve had so much, I refused to go. I refused because I loved Daniel – your da – and I couldn’t bear to leave him.’

  She looked up at Thomas, standing so still. ‘It was Edward Newmarch who was my lover. Jewel’s father.’

  Thomas was silent for a moment, then he glanced at his father sitting with his head in his hands. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘And so – am I right, Da, in thinking that every time you see Jewel . . .’ he frowned as if puzzling it out, ‘when you see her, you think of him?’

  Daniel nodded and blew his nose hard. ‘Aye.’

  ‘But – he went on to have a different life, just as you and Ma did, and surely you were both young at ’time and fighting to survive?’

  Ruby gave a hiccuping laugh. How simple it sounded.

  Thomas shrugged. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I reckon that Edward Newmarch saved Ma’s life by being there, and if all he got in return was her virtue and not her love, then I’d say that he was the loser.’

  Daniel looked at his son and blinked as if he had suddenly come out of darkness into the light.

  Thomas gazed at them both in turn. ‘Well,’ he said again, ‘if that was what all ’fuss was about, then think on this, Da. Edward Newmarch was, as I understand it, ’brother of Martin Newmarch, Aunt Grace’s husband and Clara and Elizabeth’s father.’

  ‘I’ve nowt against Martin—’ Daniel began.

  ‘It’s just as well, Da,’ Thomas said tersely. ‘And even if you had it wouldn’t mek any difference. Because when Clara comes home, I intend to ask for her hand in marriage; and if she’ll have me there’ll be a Newmarch in ’family after all. So you can put that in your pipe and smoke it.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Georgiana borrowed a mount from the hotel stables, a steady ancient mare which would do little more than plod and trot if urged. A stable lad helped her on; she hadn’t ridden for a long time, and she accustomed herself to the mare’s gait as they ambled down Dreumel’s main street.

  There was a slight breeze and the water of the creek gushed and surged as it raced down the valley. Mmm, she breathed. That’s good. I’m feeling so much better after these few days in the mountain air. Her spirits were lifting and the lethargy which she had felt for some weeks was slipping away.

  Wilhelm had gone to Yeller this morning. Although he had spent time with her since her arrival, sitting outside the Marius, talking of plans or escorting her on gentle walks through the town, she knew he was itching to get back to his project, that of rebuilding Yeller. He’d taken Dan with him that morning as the young man had expressed an interest in helping if he could, and so she was alone, to do with the day whatever she wished, but with Wilhelm’s warning not to overtask herself ringing incessantly in her ears.

  ‘I won’t,’ she’d told him. ‘I’ll be very sensible and take it easy with a good book.’ She hadn’t told him that she intended riding out towards the mountains.

  She patted the mare’s neck as she approached the bridge. ‘I used to ride out here on Hetty, you know,’ she murmured, and the mare snickered and pricked her ears. ‘She knew the way all right, we’d done it so many times.’

  The horse increased her stride and trotted over the bridge. ‘So you know the way too,’ Georgiana murmured. ‘I suppose new people are curious and come and look at Dreumel from the other side of the water.’

  After they’d crossed she reined in and looked back. The town looked much as it had always done, as if it had grown into the valley. True, there were more buildings, stores and houses than there had been when she was last here, but the town hadn’t lost its sleepy character, in spite of the activity which she knew went on within it.

  She took in a deep breath of satisfaction. It was so very good to be back. She wheeled the mare’s head round to face the mountain and the track running up it to the plateau where Dan had seen the black bear. She gazed up. There was nothing there this morning, just the pine trees gently swaying and white clouds scudding across the blue sky.

  Georgiana lifted her chin, and with her lips parted slightly and her nostrils flaring, she sniffed. With her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth, she sniffed again. It was what Lake had taught her to do. ‘It takes practice,’ he had said. ‘A lifetime of practice.’ He was a master of it, despite having only had a short lifetime.

  ‘You can smell the weather,’ he had told her. ‘You can smell the snow even if it’s across the mountains. You can smell bear and wolf, and you can smell danger when it’s coming for you.’

  She dug her heels into the mare’s flanks and urged her up the track. Had Lake been able to smell the danger that was coming towards him, she wondered? Did he know it and yet face it head on?

  She had first met him at an Iroquois settlement on the long journey between New York and Dreumel’s Creek in the days before the railroad crossed the country. Lake was a hunter and trapper, a half-breed; his mother was an Iroquois Indian, a descendant of Handsome Lake, who had brought together Indians and white men to live in peace; his father had been a French trapper. It was Lake who was entrusted with seeing her and Kitty safely though the mountains to visit Wilhelm Dreumel, and it was during that journey that they had each recognized a kindred spirit and eventually learned to love one another.

  But he was a man of the mountains who lived beneath the stars and earned his living trapping beaver, both for their pelts and for the meat. A city life wouldn’t suit him, walls wouldn’t contain him, and neither could she live the life that he did, brought up as she had been amongst gentlefolk, and with the earnest desire to be independent, which was why she had gone to America in the beginning. And then, whilst she was away in San Francisco, rendezvousing with the dying Edward and rescuing his daughter Jewel, Lake was killed by his sworn enemy, his half-brother.

  It was Wilhelm who was waiting to tell her. Wilhelm, who comforted her and eventually told her that he loved her, that he had always loved her.

  They eased their way up the track, the mare sure-footed as if she knew the route. It was another lifetime. And would I change it if I could? No, she thought. I wouldn’t. Not
one single part of it. I loved Lake then as he loved me, but we could not have lived together. I couldn’t have lived a life in the wilderness and I would have been a constant worry to him. He would always have been watching over me, keeping me from danger, from wolf or bear or enemy. I would have ruined his life.

  She reached the plateau and dismounted, tying the reins loosely to a branch. How well I remember it, she thought, looking down at the valley. I recall so well the first time Kitty and I came here.

  ‘It’s a secret valley,’ she had proclaimed to Lake and he’d agreed. Unknown, then, except to Indians and the chosen few who had come here because of Lake. Wilhelm was the first, the visit his reward for saving Lake’s life the first time his murderous half-brother attacked him. Wilhelm brought Ted Allen, then old Isaac; Pike, who was killed blasting through to Yeller and whose name was given to the road; the young Jason; Ellis, a man of few words; and others who could see the potential of the valley, not just for the gold they were sure was there, which cost them life and sweat and tears before they found it.

  It’s still so beautiful, she thought, her gaze traversing the lush meadow, the green uplands, the gushing creek and the rocky mountain range; and the town itself, looking as if it had always been there.

  She leaned her back against a pine tree as she contemplated. Why would anyone ever want to move from here? Not Wilhelm, and – would I? I should be torn, there is no doubt, but would I be beset by old memories? She closed her eyes and breathed in steadily the smell of pine needles, the fresh cold air and something else, something musty like sweat or something animal.

  She kept very still. Imaginings, she told herself. The horse would be disturbed if there was a bear or wolf; and yet she recalled two occasions when there had been both, once when Lake had been distracted by her presence and a lone wolf had come upon them. Lake had killed it, the animal’s blood spattering them both. The other time she had been with Kitty and a female black bear had strayed into their territory. She had kept her nerve then and it had gone away.