Beside Still Waters

by AnnaLee Conti

  Violet groaned. She hoped they were not rescinding the job offer.

  All night, she tossed and turned in the hot, airless room and felt like a wilted flower by morning. Washing up at the sink refreshed her somewhat. She sat in the ladder-back chair at the table but was unable to eat her usual, unappetizing breakfast. The cup of unsweetened tea was all she could manage.

  Should she wear her mourning clothes? They were so heavy. Did anyone really care? She finally decided on her best cotton dress in a soft blue and her straw hat. Walking to the bus stop, she noted the overcast sky. The air was muggy, as though it might storm by evening. She hoped it would hold off until she finished her business today.

  In Cambridge, Violet knocked on the door of the Henderson home. As before, Mrs. Henderson graciously invited her in. “I’ve set up brunch on the back patio.” She led the way. “Sit, dear, and help yourself. Is there anything else you would like?”

  “Oh no, this is wonderful!” Violet’s mouth watered at the sight of the scrumptious display. She hadn’t seen such a feast since her uncle died. Mrs. Henderson wouldn’t feed her and then rescind the offer, would she? Sitting on a cushion in a wrought iron chair, she relaxed a bit.

  Mrs. Henderson served her a generous slice of egg casserole and a scone before she took the matching chair opposite her. “You’re probably curious to know why I invited you here today.”

  “I did wonder.” Violet hoped she didn’t sound too fearful.

  “I want to take you shopping to buy what you’ll need in the Yukon.”

  Violet let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “When I received your note, I was worried you’d changed your mind about hiring me.”

  “Oh no, my dear! The longer I know you, the more certain I am that you are the answer to my prayers.”

  “You don’t know what it means to me to get this job.” Violet’s voice trembled. “I was afraid I’d have to work in that old dress factory forever.”

  “I’m sorry I worried you. That wasn’t my intent.”

  “That’s okay. So many hard situations have come my way so rapidly, I guess I’ve begun to anticipate the worst.”

  “Did George Jr. send you a list of what you’ll need?”

  Violet fumbled with her fork. “He did, but you don’t have to buy anything for me. I got paid yesterday.”

  Mrs. Henderson waved away her protest. “You’ll need that money for food and other expenses on the trip. Besides, it’s not charity. I want to do my part to help my granddaughter.”

  Violet felt her cheeks grow hot. She knew Mrs. Henderson was being tactful, but the truth was, Violet had been wondering how she’d be able to afford everything on that list. “Well, when you put it that way, thank you. I appreciate the help.” She took a sip of her tea and smiled. It was sweet. “Tell me about your granddaughter.”

  “Jenny’s mother died of pneumonia several years ago.”

  “How sad! I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I lost both of mine when I was eleven. I went to live with my uncle and aunt. They’re both gone now too. In fact, my aunt died a little over a month ago.”

  “I’m so sorry, dear.” Mrs. Henderson reached out to pat Violet’s hand. “You are certainly the right one to care for Jenny.” Mrs. Henderson brushed a tear from her cheek. “She misses her mother very much. You’ll know how to comfort her.”

  “I hope so. Sometimes nothing helps.” Violet’s voice dropped away, and her appetite fled at the thought of the sorrow that still threatened to overwhelm her at times. Violet set her nearly empty plate on the coffee table, knowing that later she’d regret not eating more.

  Mrs. Henderson didn’t seem to notice but kept talking. “Twice a week, George Jr.’s job takes him away overnight. Jenny used to stay with a friend—until she contracted rheumatic fever. We nearly lost her. Even now, she’s not strong enough to travel, or George would bring her east to live with me. I’d go there myself, but at my age, I can’t stand the extreme cold.”

  “So, that’s why I’m needed.”

  “Yes, dear. I hope that by next summer Jenny will be well enough to travel.” Mrs. Henderson handed Violet the fruit bowl. “Here. Help yourself.”

  “Thank you.” Violet selected a large, red strawberry. Savoring its juicy sweetness, she tried to remember when she’d last eaten one. It was too early for strawberries here. It must have been shipped in from warmer places. It soothed her dry throat. “I’ll certainly do my best. What are Jenny’s interests?”

  “She’s an inquisitive child. She loves to draw and read, but the supply of books, especially for older children, is limited there. Today, we’ll look for some you can take with you.” Mrs. Henderson gestured toward the back door. “I’ve already gathered up the books I have here to add to what we’ll buy today.” Violet glimpsed a few of the titles: several of the Elsie Dinsmore series and Anne of Green Gables. She’d enjoy reading those to Jenny.

  From somewhere inside, a grandfather clock chimed the hour. “Oh, my!” Mrs. Henderson stood. “We’d better get going.”

  She piled the dishes on a tray and headed inside. Violet picked up the bowl of fruit and followed her into the kitchen. While Mrs. Henderson put the leftovers away, Violet brought in the rest of the dishes. Before long, they were ready to leave.

  “We’ll take the subway downtown and hire a cab to bring us back with all of our purchases.” Mrs. Henderson took Violet’s arm as they set out.

  Hours later, they climbed out of the cab with their arms full of packages—everything on George Henderson’s list, plus books, some special items for Jenny, and a formal gown Mrs. Henderson insisted Violet would need for special occasions. When she protested, Mrs. Henderson said, “A pretty girl like you will be in demand socially up there.”

  Violet set her armload on the sofa. “Now all I have to do is fit all this into my trunk.”

  “Why don’t you leave everything here while you close up your flat?” Mrs. Henderson laid her purchases on the table and removed her hat. “Bring over what you’re keeping and stay with me until you leave.” Violet began to protest, but Mrs. Henderson fluttered her hand at her. “Hear me out first. You’ll need someplace to stay, and I have this huge house all to myself. It will be good to have some companionship.”

  “How can I refuse?” Violet laughed. Mrs. Henderson reminded her of Aunt Mabel before Uncle Chester’s death. Violet felt more carefree than she had in years.

  “Take off your hat, and we’ll go to the kitchen to rustle up some supper. That light lunch we had at the department store is long gone. I’m ready for something more solid.”

  Light lunch? Violet didn’t protest. The meager fare she could afford at her flat was scarcely enough to keep body and soul together. She’d already eaten more today than she usually ate in an entire day. If George Henderson was anything like his mother, she would enjoy this new job. Hope erased the feelings of despair she’d been fighting for so long.

  A few days later, Mrs. Henderson sent a car to pick her up. Violet resolutely closed the door of her flat behind her for the last time. Besides her clothes, her mother’s Bible, and a few tintype photographs of her parents, all she kept of her old life were Aunt Mabel’s delicate china teacups, tucked among her woolen undies in the center of her trunk. Although she missed her aunt terribly, she wouldn’t miss this wretched apartment with all of its sad memories. She hoped the next tenant would enjoy Aunt Mabel’s furniture.

  The cab driver carried her trunk down the rickety stairs and loaded it into the car. Without a backward glance, Violet climbed onto the hard seat of the Model T and set her mind on the long trip ahead. Excitement fluttered in her stomach.

  Whitehorse, here I come—for better or worse.

  Chapter 3

  EN ROUTE TO THE YUKON, MID-MAY 1915

  Mrs. Henderson accompanied Violet to the Boston train station. “Write and let me know when you arrive. And I’d certainly appreciate a woman’s assessment of how my son and granddaughter are doing.”


  “I’ll write,” Violet assured her.

  Mrs. Henderson slipped some cash into her hand. “What’s this for?” Violet asked in surprise.

  Mrs. Henderson squeezed Violet’s hand closed over the money. “I’m sure you’ll find use for it. You’ll need to buy your meals, and you never know what unforeseen expenses may arise when you travel.”

  Thanking her, Violet tucked the bills into her handbag, deciding to buy a souvenir for Jenny en route. After hugging her new friend, she boarded the train for Montreal and Toronto. From her window seat, she waved to Mrs. Henderson until she was out of sight. She would miss this dear, sweet lady, whom she had grown to love in such a short time.

  Exhausted from packing and vacating her flat, she settled into her seat. Was she really on her way, or was this a dream?

  As the train sped through the long afternoon, Violet reviewed the events since her beloved Aunt Mabel’s death. So much had happened so quickly, she’d had little time to think or grieve. Sitting quietly now, she felt an overwhelming need to share her good fortune with the aunt who had mothered her after the death of her parents. Instead, she comforted herself with the knowledge that her aunt would be happy for her.

  The gentle, rocking motion of the train relaxed her and soon lulled her to sleep. She awoke as her train slowed down and pulled into Toronto, where she would switch trains. Scurrying around construction work that had begun on a huge new railroad station, she boarded the Canadian Pacific train that would carry her across the continent.

  Leaving the suburbs of Toronto behind, they passed through Ontario’s spruce forests, broken up by bare rock, rivers, and a multitude of lakes. That night, she shared a curtained upper and lower bunk with a single nurse, Elsie, who was headed home to a place in British Columbia Violet had never heard of. The tourist sleeper came with her tourist class ticket. And the money Mrs. Henderson had given her made it possible for her to eat all her meals in the dining car.

  The first night Violet slept well, but the next night she wasn’t as tired as she had been the night before. Her mind kicked into high gear, and she began to worry. Would Mr. Henderson like her? Would she be able to help Jenny live with the loss of her mother? She hoped she would not disappoint anyone. Practicing conversation starters with her new boss and Jenny, she tossed and turned for several hours before finally falling into a restless sleep.

  The next day, the forests gave way to the prairies of Manitoba. The land seemed to stretch monotonously as far as her eye could see. Violet tried to read, but the train rocked her to sleep. When she awoke, the scenery was just the same—flat grasslands.

  “Welcome back, sleepyhead!” Elsie said with a laugh.

  “I worried so much last night that I didn’t sleep well.” Apprehension mixed with excitement about meeting George Henderson and his daughter again tugged at Violet’s thoughts.

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  Elsie’s gentle demeanor invited trust. Violet told her about the new job awaiting her in Whitehorse. “I keep wondering if Jenny will like me.” Violet twisted her handkerchief. “Will I be able to make her happy in spite of her illness and being confined to bed?”

  Elsie laid her hand on Violet’s arm. “I like you. Why wouldn’t she? What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “I guess if they don’t like me, they’ll send me home. I’d have to go back to work in that firetrap of a garment factory. But I really want to teach. I need one more year of normal school. I’m hoping to save enough money to finish my education.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

  Violet frowned. “What if I don’t like them?”

  “How long is your commitment?”

  “One year.”

  “You can cope with anything for that long, can’t you?”

  “Yes! But I hope I’ll be happy too.” Violet brightened. “I don’t know why I’m so worried. If George Henderson is anything like his mother, I have nothing to fear.”

  Elsie’s logic prevailed. As they returned to watching the prairie slide by, Violet settled back. Everything would work out.

  Just when Violet thought the grasslands would never end, the train pulled into Winnipeg’s enormous Union Station, completed a few years earlier, according to the conductor. There, the passengers were allowed to disembark. She and Elsie strolled together through the station until the call came to reboard.

  From Winnipeg, the train rolled through cultivated wheat fields on the fertile prairies west of Manitoba. Colorful wooden grain elevators dotted the landscape. Past Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, however, the country became hillier. Then a great phalanx of bare rock flecked with snow rose above the carpet of spruce and pine as the train headed into the mountains beyond Edmonton, Alberta. Violet gasped in awe at the sheer grandeur of spectacular waterfalls that frequently split the towering rocks. Violet caught Elsie smiling at her expressions of delight.

  In Jasper, Alberta, in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, the train stopped long enough for the passengers to stretch their legs along the main street and enjoy the beauty of the area.

  “I want to buy something for Jenny.”

  Elsie stopped in front of a tourist shop. “This place might have something.”

  Violet picked out an illustrated book about minerals and a geode, a spherical rock which had been split to reveal a hollow filled with sparkling amethyst crystals. She paid for them with some of the money Mrs. Henderson had given her. “Jenny’s grandmother says Jenny likes to read. I hope these might be something of interest to help start a conversation with her.”

  “What girl wouldn’t like amethysts?” They both giggled.

  During the last segment of the journey, Violet was totally enthralled with the landscape in the Canadian Rockies. She set her book aside, along with her worries, as she craned her neck back and forth to catch all of the scenic vistas. The conductor pointed out the tallest peak, Mount Robson, to the north. “It’s 12,972 feet—3,954 meters to you Europeans on board,” he said.

  Shortly after Kamloops, British Columbia, the Thompson River they’d been following widened into a large lake. Elsie pointed out several species of birds—mallards, spotted sandpipers, and osprey. And then the train entered the narrow Fraser River Canyon, with its engineering marvels—rapids, tunnels, and avalanche shelters. Before they emerged from the defile, the train squeezed through Hell’s Gate with its whitewater rapids guarded by a gigantic, black rock. The topography softened abruptly into a valley dotted with a few farms and grazing cattle.

  Violet’s trans-Canada journey ended near the Pacific Ocean at Waterfront Station in Vancouver, British Columbia, another beautiful city built on the water’s edge with mountains as a backdrop. After traveling nearly three thousand miles in six days, Violet was eager to detrain.

  The sun was sinking behind Vancouver Island when they arrived. The conductor announced that lodging and restaurants were available in the massive station. Violet made arrangements for her trunks to be sent to the Canadian Pacific Railway Coast Service steamship leaving for Alaska the next morning.

  Elsie was taking a train north. After saying their goodbyes, Violet took her tapestry carryall bag with her to find an inexpensive room for the night. Once again, she was thankful for Mrs. Henderson’s thoughtfulness in giving her extra spending money for the trip. She ate a light supper and took a long bath before she slid between the fresh sheets. How good it felt to stretch out. She fell right to sleep.

  Early the next morning, Violet twisted her long, light brown braids around her head and donned a clean, blue shirtwaist and her freshly brushed, black traveling suit. Feeling refreshed from a good night’s sleep, she located the coffee shop in the Waterfront Station for a sweet roll and a cup of hot tea with sugar. By then, it was time to board the S. S. Princess May for the trip up the Inside Passage to Skagway, Alaska.

  After checking to be sure her trunks had been delivered to her cabin, she went up on the crowded deck to stand at the rail and watch the steamer pull away from
the dock. Overwhelmed by the beauty around her, she breathed in the crisp, salt air.

  A male voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you traveling all the way to Skagway?”

  She turned and looked up into a pair of clear brown eyes that seemed to be lit by an inner glow. “Y-yes.”

  “So am I!”

  The young man, whom she guessed to be about twenty-five, smiled warmly at her. The breeze tousled his curly, dark hair. He wore a navy blue peacoat, and a white captain’s hat with a black brim was tucked under his arm. He was so handsome that her heart did a somersault.

  “Is this your first trip up the Inside Passage?” he asked.

  The pounding in her chest made it difficult to answer. Her mouth was so dry her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, but she managed to squeak out, “Yes.” At the questioning lift of his eyebrow, she added, “I’ve been hired to teach a sick child in Whitehorse.”

  “That’s where I’m headed too. I’m the captain of one of the sternwheelers on the Yukon River.”

  That piqued her interest. “Sternwheeler?” She licked her lips. “With a paddlewheel on the back? Wow! Do you take it on the Yukon all the way across Alaska?”

  “I have piloted the Yukon Belle, my steamer, to St. Michael, at the delta of the Yukon River, and back a few times. That’s a much longer trip than I like to make. Depends on where my company sends me, though.”

  “Is all the river ice melted now?”

  “It’s usually all gone by the first of June, so I’m on my way back to prepare the Belle for the summer. She’ll run until the river freezes over in the fall. Whitehorse is my home port in the summer, but I spend the winter months in Seattle.” He smiled at her, and heat coursed through her.

  “Which child will you be teaching?” he asked. “Whitehorse is such a small town that I know most of the people.”