Down Jasper Lane (Amherst Island Trilogy Book 1)

by Kate Hewitt

  She tried for a smile, her sketchbook clutched to her chest. “I’d better go find Louisa,” she said, keeping her voice as light as she could. “In case she runs into another cow.”

  Lucas didn’t smile back, just drove a hand through his hair and gazed moodily off into the distant fields, where Jed’s broad back was just visible as he strode away.

  TEN

  A few weeks later, about halfway through the summer, all of Amherst Island prepared for an exciting event—an island wedding.

  Never having ever attended a wedding before, Ellen was amazed at the vast preparation the entire island set to. Everyone was invited, everyone was involved. The Presbyterian church in Stella would be overflowing; even the Methodists and Anglicans would attend, albeit a bit grudgingly, and the party afterwards was to be at the bride’s family farm, with the whole barnyard turned into a dance floor, and everyone on the island who played an instrument, even a tin harmonica, roped into providing music.

  All the McCafferty girls were busy baking for the feast, as well as sewing new lace and ribbon onto their best dresses. Even Louisa entered into the cheerful fray, laying out her gorgeous silk and satin dresses, allowing everyone to admire them, wondering which one to choose.

  Caro could not resist stroking the smooth, rich fabric with a touch of envy, although Ellen knew she would never admit such a thing to Louisa.

  “I’ll do your hair for you if you like,” Louisa told Ellen with a toss of her own burnished curls. “Maybe then it won’t look like such a haystack.”

  Ellen forced herself to smile back. Ever since the day in the Lymans’ barnyard, her friendship with Louisa had been more strained than usual. Ellen had duly sought Louisa out and apologized for the episode, and while Louisa had stiffly accepted, she remained frosty and distant.

  In some regards Ellen had been relieved, for a little distance from Louisa was no bad thing. Yet she also felt an uncomfortable pang of guilt, for as Jed had so coolly reminded her, Louisa was both her guest and responsibility. She’d spent the last few weeks being as attentive to Louisa as she could, even though it made the days long and dull, and she missed being with Lucas and the little ones.

  When the day of the wedding finally arrived, everyone was fairly dancing with excitement, even though the music had yet to begin. Louisa and Ellen walked with the other McCaffertys down Stella’s Front Street to the church. Ellen had added lace to the cuffs and collar of her best green dress, and Louisa wore a frilly concoction of blue silk with a wide sash of deeper blue, her hair in ringlets. She looked very pretty, Ellen thought, and entirely overdressed, but then all of Louisa’s frocks were too fussy for island life.

  Still, she tried to mend the bridges between them and offered, “You look beautiful, Louisa.”

  “Thank you.” Louisa preened a bit, but there seemed something false about both her gestures and words, and she didn’t quite look at her. Instinctively Ellen walked more slowly so they fell behind the McCafferty children. Louisa matched her pace, and when they couldn’t be overheard, she spoke.

  “You were right about your island. I was jealous of what you had, but I should’ve realized I could hardly snatch it for myself.”

  Ellen looked at her uncertainly. “What do you mean?”

  “That secret you have? The way you love this island and it loves you? That’s yours.” Louisa shook her head, bitterness spiking her words, her hands clenched on the stiff, shiny silk of her dress. “It will never be mine.”

  Ellen was silent for a moment. She knew what Louisa meant. Before coming to Amherst Island, she had never felt like she belonged. Even back in Springburn, she’d been a stranger, set apart, spending most of her days in the sickroom with Mam. Only here, among friends, did she feel a part of things. Loved and accepted for herself, not out of duty or charity.

  She’d just never thought Louisa, with all her pampered privileges, might see that—or want to feel the same way.

  “You’ve made friends here...” she began, but Louisa just laughed sharply.

  “Friends? Like Lucas, who thinks I’m no more than a spoiled brat? Or Caro, who says so to my face?” She turned to Ellen, her face hard despite the vulnerability and hurt lurking in her eyes. “Do you think I don’t notice the way you all look at me, Ellen? Do you think I can’t hear the whispers?” She shook her head. “I see it all. I hear it all.” She paused, her face averted once more. “I feel it all.”

  Guilt ate at her, hollowing out her insides. She should have been kinder to Louisa. More understanding, more patient. “Louisa—” Ellen began, “I’m sorry...”

  “I know it’s my own fault,” Louisa cut across her. “I should try to fit in, to make myself useful and liked. I know that, but I can’t.” Her hands clenched once more on her dress. “I’ve never had to before, and I won’t start now.”

  Ellen’s sympathy lessened a bit at this willful remark. “You’re just stubborn, then,” she said. “And it’s worse because you know it. If you just helped out a bit, Louisa, dirtied your hands or your apron and didn’t turn your nose up at island ways—”

  “It’s not quite so easy, Ellen Copley,” Louisa snapped. “You can’t change the way you think just like that.”

  Ellen sighed. They were well behind the others now, and they would have to hurry to catch up. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, Louisa. I did warn you—”

  “Oh, don’t say that!” Louisa shook her head angrily. “‘I told you so!’ I know you want to gloat, Ellen, but don’t do it to my face.”

  “I’m not gloating!”

  “Aren’t you?” Louisa replied shrewdly. “You were worried I’d steal this island from under your nose, and I haven’t. It’s still yours. It will always be yours.”

  Ellen had a prickling awareness of Louisa’s meaning. It was a competition in her mind, between the two of them. Perhaps it always had been, although how Louisa could think anything between them was a competition Ellen had no idea. In Seaton Louisa had more friends, more dresses, more everything. All Ellen had was this island; was there really any question that she would feel protective, and yes, even possessive of it?

  “It isn’t my island,” Ellen said, but even she could hear how halfhearted she sounded. A part of her was quite vehemently insisting that this island was hers, and always would be. It made Ellen feel a little childish and selfish, but still defiant. In her own way she was just as stubborn as her friend. She took a deep breath and tried again. “But you’ll never find your place here if you don’t try to fit in. This isn’t Seaton, Louisa.”

  “I know that,” Louisa answered. “I’ve always known that.”

  “If you wanted to belong here,” Ellen said, “you could. Even now. People here are accepting, Louisa. Forgiving. If you just made an effort—”

  “Did you make an effort when you arrived?” Louisa demanded. “Isn’t the point that you don’t have to?”

  Ellen hesitated, remembering her uneasy beginning, how Jed had picked her up from the station, so surly and silent. She thought of how she’d made dinner and bathed the McCafferty children, all because she’d thought she might be sent away again. Remembering it was like seeing herself through a gauzy veil or a fog. She was a different person now. A stronger one. And despite her childish possessiveness of the island, another part of her wanted Louisa to succeed and be happy.

  “You’re not being reasonable, Louisa, and I’m not saying that to be mean. If you’re going to be prickly and standoffish, then how can people ever get to know you, or even want to? I’m not saying you have to change yourself, but just be friendly—” She stopped, for she was now well able to see when Louisa was coming into a fine temper.

  Her eyes flashed and her mouth hardened. “Maybe I’ll just have to find someone who likes me for myself,” she said frostily, and with a strange little thrill of foreboding Ellen wondered if that was a threat... and who it would be.

  The wedding was a classic island affair, with the church crowded and Captain Jonah blowin
g his nose loudly on his large spotted handkerchief right in the middle of the service. The happy couple led the way back to the homestead for the party, with everyone following behind in the gathering twilight.

  The simple farm had been transformed by music, food, and people. Long wooden trestle tables fairly sagged with plates of ham and biscuits, pies of every berry and fruit, and bowls of punch and lemonade.

  The band, twelve strong and playing a merry tune, struck up after the eating was done and just about everyone took to the floor. Ellen stood uncertainly on the side of the swept yard, watching the ladies’ skirts swirling up clouds of dust as her own foot tapped a happy rhythm.

  “Do you think anyone will ask you to dance?” Louisa asked, her eyes narrowed speculatively as she searched the crowd for a prospective partner. Since that uncomfortable conversation on the way to church they hadn’t really spoken, and even now Ellen felt the tension radiating from Louisa, along with a steely determination. Louisa, she suspected, was on a mission to dance.

  “I don’t know,” she said, fiddling with the scratchy new lace at her cuffs. “I haven’t danced much before.” She wasn’t quite ready to admit even to herself, much less Louisa, how much she wanted to dance.

  “You could always dance with Peter, I suppose,” Louisa said, spite spiking her words, and Ellen bit back her sharp reply. Dancing with Peter would be a laugh, but he was still a full head shorter than her and not the kind of partner she had in mind.

  Just then she saw Jed walking towards her, scuffing his feet and not quite meeting her eye. Her heart lurched at the sight of his hair, usually so scruffy, now brushed back from his forehead and glistening with pomade. His eyes looked almost silver and his jaw was cleanly shaven. He was over six feet tall, with broad farmer’s shoulders and work-callused hands. His Sunday suit looked uncomfortable on him, as if the clothes knew he wasn’t used to them. Both he and Lucas had come to the wedding while their father had stayed behind with Maeve, who was no better even though it was high summer, the windows of her bedroom open to the light and air.

  Ellen’s breath nearly stopped as he came to stand in front of her, ducking his head a bit as he asked, “Would you have this dance—”

  “Yes—” Ellen began in shy pleasure, only to have Jed finish,

  “—Louisa?”

  “Oh.” Ellen’s cheeks burned and she took a step backwards as if to distance herself from her terrible gaffe, while Louisa purred,

  “I certainly would, Jed Lyman. Thank you for asking me.” Taking his extended hand as elegantly as a ballerina, Louisa sashayed towards the dance floor, tossing Ellen a glittering, triumphant look over her shoulder.

  Ellen’s feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor even as she longed to hike up her skirts and sprint away from the party. Why, oh why, had she assumed Jed was asking her? He’d been so cross with her over the stupid joke with Lucas, and they hadn’t spoken since. She should hardly have expected him to ask her to dance. Yet she was angry, and also hurt, not just because he hadn’t asked her, but because he had asked Louisa. Louisa, who was so spoiled and shallow and silly. She wasn’t an island girl at all, not the way Ellen was, or at least wanted to be.

  Ellen told herself she was being ridiculous for caring, that she didn’t even like Jed. He teased her mercilessly and he was so sullen his face could sour milk. Why on earth would she have wanted to dance with him? And yet she knew she had.

  “If he was going to ask Louisa, he should’ve stood in front of her,” Ellen muttered, only to have a voice behind her say softly,

  “Ellen?”

  “Lucas!” Ellen smiled in relief. In her moment of mortification it was good to see a friend.

  “Will you dance with me?”

  “Of course.” She took his hand easily, gratefully, glad that she wouldn’t stand on the side any longer. “I’m still not much of a dancer, you know.”

  “I’m good enough for both of us,” Lucas said with an impish grin. “And fortunately we’re both wearing sturdy shoes. Our toes should be all right.”

  Ellen thought of Louisa’s silk slippers, dyed to match her dress, and suppressed a flash of jealousy. She wondered if Jed was as good a dancer as Lucas. She knew Maeve Lyman had taught both her sons to dance, humming a tune as they waltzed around the kitchen table, but Ellen couldn’t see Jed taking to it the way Lucas did. No doubt he’d step all over Louisa’s poor slippered feet. The thought gave her a surge of satisfaction.

  Lucas led her with easy confidence, his hand steady on her waist. He smiled down at her, his hazel eyes glinting. “You’re good.”

  “Only because I’m letting you lead,” Ellen said with a little laugh.

  “It would look rather strange if you led,” Lucas observed, and Ellen smiled.

  “I suppose it would.” Her gaze moved from Lucas’ smiling face to the couple just over his shoulder.

  Lucas, seeing her gaze, glanced back, his mouth hardening just a little. “Jed shouldn’t dance in his work boots,” he said after a moment. “He’ll wreck Louisa’s feet.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Ellen said, although she felt uncomfortable admitting as much to Lucas. And although she noticed that Jed could not be said to be a graceful dancer, he wasn’t stomping around the dance floor either.

  “I don’t know what he sees in Louisa,” Lucas remarked. “She’s such a spoiled, vain creature. Hardly the kind of girl for Jed.”

  Ellen tried to keep her voice casual as she asked, “does he really like her, then?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Who knows? But Jed doesn’t usually ask anybody to dance.”

  How could Jed like Louisa? She struggled to keep herself from tensing as Lucas guided her around the dance floor. Or was he so shallow that he was taken in by her pretty looks and airs? If that was the case, they deserved each other. And, Ellen told herself fiercely, it had nothing to do with her. She couldn’t care less—

  Lucas touched her chin with his finger, tilting her face upwards. “You’re scowling, Ellen.”

  She tried to smile. “Just concentrating on the dance steps.”

  There was no reason, Ellen told herself, for her spirits to sink when Jed danced with Louisa again, especially as she found herself never short of a dance partner for the rest of the evening. After the dance with Lucas, there was always another island boy eager for her hand, and Ellen accepted every invitation, refusing to take any notice of either Jed or Louisa or what they might be doing.

  Several hours later, with the soft night settling over the farmyard, the lanterns lit and the music still going strong, Ellen fanned herself with her hand as she finished another dance, and suddenly found Jed right in front of her.

  She stiffened, remembering her embarrassment, and his mouth curved in a smile, his eyes lightening to silver. “You’re not cross at me now, are you, Ellen?”

  “I thought you were cross at me,” Ellen admitted, her voice just a little stiff. “Because of that silly joke about the cow...”

  His smile deepened, revealing a dimple in one cheek that Ellen hadn’t even known about. “I couldn’t stay mad about that for long.” Another tune started up, and she slapped a mosquito away from her arm. Jed held his arms out with a shrug. “We might as well dance.”

  It was so far from a proper invitation that Ellen was stung to reply, “Not if you’d rather dance with Louisa.”

  Jed looked at her in surprise. “Ellen Copley, are you jealous?” He sounded so smug that Ellen decided she most certainly was not jealous.

  She fixed him with her haughtiest look, borrowed straight from Louisa, and said, “What do you think?”

  He shook his head. “You couldn’t be jealous,” he said, “not when you barely have two words to say to me.” Ellen opened her mouth to refute this accusation, but before she could say anything he had reached for her hand. “Now let’s dance before the song ends and I have to go home to put the cows to bed.”

  It felt strange to be so close to Jed, one hand, warm and dry, clasping h
ers, the other lightly touching her waist. She was eye level with his chin, and could see the dark stubble glinting there, and the strong pulse in his throat. Jed was surprisingly light on his feet, and Ellen prayed she wouldn’t stumble.

  “You couldn’t be jealous,” Jed resumed, his voice pitched low for only her ears, “because you don’t even like me.”

  Ellen glanced up, surprised. “That’s not true.”

  Jed raised one eyebrow in blatant skepticism. “Really, Miss Bossy?”

  Ellen gave a little smile. “You might have been the most ill-tempered boy when I first met you, but you’ve improved a little.”

  Jed laughed and twirled her round. “So have you,” he said, leaving Ellen breathless. “A little.”

  And that, Ellen supposed, was the closest Jed Lyman would ever get to paying her a compliment.

  The party lasted well into evening, with the moon high and yellow in the sky, and the crickets chirping a loud evening chorus. The bride and groom were finally run off with many cheers and bawdy jokes, and the McCaffertys began to pile into the wagon, Andrew asleep in Rose’s arms, and Ruthie trying to stay awake as she leaned heavily against Ellen’s shoulder.

  “That was wonderful,” Louisa said to Ellen as they began the bumpy ride back to Jasper Lane. A silk ribbon had fallen from her hair and she twisted it dreamily through her fingers, her expression distant. “I reckon I could make him fall in love with me.”

  Ellen, still lost in her own memory of a certain dance, barely registered Louisa’s words. “Who are you talking about?”

  Louisa’s smile was that of a cat, smugly contented, whiskers dipped in cream. “Why, Jed, of course.”

  Ellen felt as if her stomach, or maybe her heart, had been suddenly plunged in ice. “I can’t imagine Jed in love with anyone,” she said, and Louisa chuckled.

  “I can. I’d almost think you were jealous, Ellen, but you can’t be, not with the way Lucas makes calf eyes at you.”