by Kate Hewitt
At least half of Seaton stopped by with condolences and casseroles, until a fortnight after the funeral Ellen stood in the kitchen, surveying the stocked larder with a weary satisfaction. Hamish would be well provided for when she left.
Her uncle had held up admirably. It was, Ellen thought, as if he’d grieved already, and now knew he must soldier on. The store helped too, and she was glad he was, at least for the moment, kept busy.
The screen door slapped open and closed, and Ellen heard Hamish’s familiar, shuffling tread.
“There’s a letter for you. From New Mexico.” He stood in the kitchen doorway, a bit paler and thinner, but Ellen was glad to see that his eyes still twinkled, if only a little bit.
“I wrote Da a few weeks ago,” she murmured, taking the letter. “I didn’t think word would come so soon.” Her heart beat heavily inside her; would it just be another short, meaningless missive from a man she didn’t know anymore?
She opened it while Hamish waited, scanning the few lines with a wrinkled brow.
“Well? What does my brother say?”
“Dear Ellen,” she read in a quiet voice, “I’m sorry to hear about Ruth. I know Hamish loved her, and it’s a terrible thing, being parted from a wife. It makes me realize even more how frail we all are, and I am glad you wrote me. I know I haven’t done my best by you these last years, but if you’re still willing I’d be glad for you to visit me here in Santa Fe. Perhaps you’ll stay awhile, even. I have a small house and a good job, which is more than most can say. Please write when you can visit. As ever, Your Da.”
Hamish was silent, and Ellen folded the letter back into the envelope. “I asked him if I could come stay,” she said as she slipped the letter into the pocket of her apron. “I need to see him again.”
“Ruth would have wanted that.”
“Yes.”
“It’ll be strange, I expect.”
“Yes. I’m not sure if we’ll have anything to say to one another anymore, but I need to find out.”
“And you should go in style,” Hamish said, and Ellen stared at him in surprise. “Pullman Palace Car, all the way to Santa Fe. My treat.”
“Pullman Palace!” Ellen had only seen such things in newspapers. “Oh, Uncle Hamish, I couldn’t—”
“And why couldn’t you, missy? It’s about time you did something in style. And I’ve got a fair bit put by, you know. I’d like to spend it on you. A first class ticket and a store bought dress. How about that?”
She smiled, glad to see Hamish looking so cheerful. “You’re too kind. Thank you. I look forward to traveling in such grand style.”
He nodded, satisfied. “And how long will you stay? It will take the better part of a week to get there—your school starts up at the end of the month.”
Ellen took a deep breath. “I’m not going back to school.” It was a decision she’d come to, slowly but certainly, over the last few weeks. It felt strange to say it aloud, but right too.
Hamish’s eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. “Not go back? But you’ve done so well, and you’ve only one more year.”
“Have I done well?” Ellen gave a small smile. “I wanted to become a nurse because it was safe and easy in its own way, although my time at KGH has been some of the hardest work I’ve ever known. But it’s not for me. I know that now. I think part of me knew it from the moment I stepped into the Nurses’ Home, lovely as it is. I don’t want to live my life out on the wards. I don’t want to choose the safest path.”
“Well.” Hamish shook his head slowly. “What shall you do then?”
“I don’t know.” Ellen gave a little laugh, the sound tinged with both hope and fear. “I really have no idea at all.”
“Well, you’ve time yet. And you don’t need to worry about money, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I couldn’t—”
“I told you, I have a fair bit put by. And you’re like a daughter to me, Ellen, whether you realize it or not.” The smile he gave her was slightly shame-faced. “Whether I’ve treated you that way or not.”
Ellen glanced down at her lap. “Thank you. You’re very generous, and it will be good not to have to worry on that account. But I must still do something, Uncle Hamish, and I don’t yet know what that is. I don’t want to be idle.”
“Like I’ve said, you’ve time. You can spend a few weeks with your father and think things through.”
“I suppose.”
Hamish glanced at her thoughtfully. “Are you angry with him?”
“No,” Ellen said after a moment, realizing it was the truth. “But he’s a stranger. And I don’t like leaving you alone so soon.”
Hamish shook his head. “I’ll do fine. The people of Seaton will see me right, and I’ve always got the store.”
“Still...”
Hamish held up a hand. “Don’t make this house into another sickroom, Ellen, taking care of me. Ruth told me you’d try to do that, and I’m warning you, I won’t have it.” He looked so determined that Ellen had to smile.
“You’re hardly ill, Uncle Hamish.”
“You’re darn right I’m not! I’m fit as a fiddle, and I don’t need a nurse. You go to Santa Fe. See your da. What he’s done or not done doesn’t matter. He’s still your da, and he wants you now.”
“Now,” Ellen repeated with just a trace of bitterness, and awkwardly Hamish put his arm around her.
“Ah, Ellen. We can’t choose the way people love us. They just do.”
“I know that.” She sighed and hugged him just as awkwardly back. “I’m not going to be bitter or angry anymore. Ruth was right, there’s no point in it.”
“Good girl.” He smiled at her. “And if you’re not returning to that nursing school, what about doing something with those sketches? I always thought you had a rare talent.”
“Oh, Uncle Hamish—”
“You did say you didn’t want to choose the safest path.”
She laughed and shook her head. “No, I suppose not. I shall think about it, at any rate.”
“Good.”
“Yes,” Ellen said slowly. “It is good.”
She’d spent so much of her life hiding from truth, from opportunity, and all out of fear or anger. She wouldn’t do that anymore, not if she could help it. “Who knows what might happen,” she said, and Hamish smiled, pleased. Ellen smiled back, a fragile new joy billowing up within her. Suddenly the road in front of her seemed, if not bright with possibility, than at least not so shadowed in uncertainty. She could see the patches of sunlight and she would walk in them.
Later that evening, as Hamish closed up the store and the sun began its lazy descent, Ellen dug out her most recent sketchbook and flipped through its pages. She took a pencil, her fingers closing around it awkwardly. It had been so long. She hadn’t even had the faintest spark of ambition or desire in her heart to draw; it had been as if she’d shut away that part of herself forever. She took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, thought of Ruth’s words. Her smile. Then she thought of so many others’ words and smiles: all the people who had encouraged and loved her. Her mother and even her father, Hamish, Rose and Dyle. Lucas and even Jed, in his own way. She remembered Ruth’s bright eyes and trembling smile, the way her thin fingers had closed over her own and squeezed, and opening her eyes, Ellen began to draw.
SEVEN
A week later Ellen returned to Amherst Island. Hamish had insisted she visit Rose, especially as he knew his sister would want to hear Ellen’s news.
Indeed, Rose came running down Jasper Lane even before Dyle’s wagon had drawn up to the front door.
“Ellen! I’m so pleased to see you!” Rose wrapped her in a warm embrace. “We were all so saddened to hear about Ruth. We wish we could have been there.”
“Hamish knows of your regard,” Ellen murmured. “The distance was too far.”
“Still...” Rose bit her lip. “You look completely worn out. We must get you well fed before you return to nursing school.”
&
nbsp; “Yes, about that.” Ellen answered with a smile. “I’m not staying long. There’s a train leaving Kingston for Chicago in two weeks’ time and I plan to be on it. And I’m not returning to nursing school, either.” And as Dyle and Rose both gaped at her, she prepared to explain—at least as much as she could. As much as she knew.
It was lovely being back at Jasper Lane, although Ellen was conscious of skirting the Lyman property and carefully asking about the family as a whole rather than its individual members. She was not ready to see Jed; she didn’t know what she’d say to him when she did. She didn’t know what she’d say to Lucas, either. She’d made a hash of her friendship with both brothers.
She was content to visit friends, congratulating Lily on her engagement to Johnny Spearson, who at twenty was just as clumsy as he’d ever been. Miss Gardiner had left the school to marry a banker from Toronto, and Julia Charbonneau had gone to Quebec for university. Despite all these changes, the island was ever the same and just as dear, and Ellen cherished her time with the McCafferty children, although she could hardly call them children anymore. Little Andrew was seven years old this summer, and Peter nearly a man at sixteen years old and thinking of university. Ruthie was ten and Sarah, still weak from her illness of years ago, was pale and lovely at thirteen. Caro would head to Glebe in the autumn.
No matter what their age, they were as fun and rapscallion as ever, and between helping Rose in the kitchen and garden, Ellen romped with them, playing games and picking berries, enjoying the moments of stillness and peace which seemed to have come so rarely to her this last year.
And she drew. After a year of blank numbness, Ellen felt her creative spirit was coming alive again. She drew everything, yet she found herself returning again and again to Ruth as a subject, images of Ruth she didn’t know she possessed. Ruth smiling, laughing, looking thoughtful or sad. Humor lurking in eyes that Ellen had once believed only to be flinty and hard. Whether it was the Ruth she remembered or the one she wished she’d known, Ellen couldn’t say. But she drew the images as they came, unbidden and plentiful, and they soothed her spirit and nourished her soul.
Late one afternoon she strolled down Jasper Lane to hunt for a stray chicken, when she saw a familiar figure ambling slowly towards her. Her heart leapt within her and her mouth turned dry as her heart and soul both framed one word: Jed. Of course she couldn’t have avoided him forever, and she hadn’t really wanted to.
Yet as the figure came closer, she saw it wasn’t Jed at all. It was Lucas. How had she never noticed how similar the brothers were? Lucas had fairer hair and eyes, but he had the same broad shoulders and steady gait as Jed. She’d just never seen it before.
“I’ve been wanting to see you,” he said with a cautious smile as he approached, and Ellen smiled back.
“I’m sorry I haven’t stopped by, Lucas.”
“I know you’ve been busy. I was sorry to hear about your aunt.”
“Thank you.” Ellen swallowed. “It was hard.”
Lucas’ expression softened. “Poor Ellen. You’ve lost so many people.”
“As have many others. You needn’t feel sorry for me.” Ellen lifted her chin. “I’m strong.” And she was getting stronger every day.
“I know you are. I heard from your Aunt Rose that you won’t be going back to Kingston.”
“No, I’ve decided not to be a nurse.”
“Do you know what you’ll do instead?”
“I’m considering a few options,” she said, and then to her surprise, Lucas took her hands in his.
“Well, perhaps you will consider one more.”
Ellen froze. Surely there could be no mistaking the earnest intent in his eyes and yet—
Before she could frame a further thought, he spoke. “I told you I’d give you a bit of space and I have now, haven’t I?”
Ellen’s hands felt cold in his. “I suppose you have. But—”
“I don’t know how else to say it, so I’ll come straight out with it, Ellen. Will you marry me?”
Ellen’s hands, still encased in Lucas’, felt icy. She stared at him, his eyes sparkling with hope, his expression rapt and so very serious.
“Marry you?” she repeated, trying desperately to frame a response that would be both accurate and gentle. “Lucas, this comes as a surprise.”
“I thought I made my feelings clear the night of the smoker,” Lucas answered. “Ellen, I love you. And I must admit that I have hoped, given time, you might love me.”
“But we haven’t even seen each other since then, not properly!”
“Did you not understand what my intentions were?”
Ellen closed her eyes. “Yes, I suppose I did,” she whispered.
Lucas withdrew his hands from hers. “And?” he inquired stiffly.
“Oh Lucas, I thought... thought in time perhaps...” She swallowed. “I haven’t thought of anything properly since Ruth died. I don’t know what I want to do with my life—”
“You seem as if you know what you don’t want to do with it,” Lucas said, and she’d never heard him sound so cool. Cold, even, and she knew it masked a deep hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Ellen said wretchedly. “I wish I had a proper answer for you—”
“Do you think you could love me, Ellen? In time?” He swallowed and tugged at his collar. “Honestly, now. I want the truth, not simply to be put off with some sop.”
She stared at his open face, so familiar and dear, and ached to love him. How simple it would be. How safe. And yet she’d told Hamish she would not choose the safest path. She was leaving nursing school for that very reason. “Lucas...”
“We could have a long engagement,” he said quickly, and Ellen knew he didn’t want to hear what she was going to say. What she must say. “I have two more years at Queen’s, and you could do what you liked. Perhaps even art school. I won’t keep you from your dreams, Ellen. I swear it. I love you and I want you to succeed.”
She closed her eyes, wishing so desperately she could step into the picture he painted. It was a lovely, welcoming picture. Why couldn’t she want it? Love it? Love him?
“I shouldn’t have pressed,” Lucas said as he drove a hand through his hair. “I’m too impatient, I know that. I just think of how it could be between us, Ellen. We’ve always got along so well.”
She opened her eyes. “I know we have.”
He swallowed, his expression still so eager, so earnest... so knowing. Of course he knew. How could he not? “I just want to love you, Ellen,” he said quietly. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You could have so much more,” she said, her voice aching. “You deserve so much more, Lucas.”
“But I want you.” He glanced away, his lips twisting bitterly. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”
“I do love you, Lucas. I’ve always loved you as a—”
“A brother? Don’t say it, please.”
“You are very dear to me,” she whispered.
“But you don’t want to marry me,” he finished flatly.
“It wouldn’t be fair to you—”
“And in time?”
Even now Ellen was tempted to say yes. She could learn to love him, couldn’t she? She certainly liked him well enough, and the thought of losing him, as she would surely do if she rejected him utterly now, made her heart tremble within her. Yet she could not lie. Not now, not when Ruth had humbled her with so much honesty, not when life demanded so much more. “Not as you want,” she said, her voice so low she didn’t know if he’d heard her. “Not as I want to love my husband, should I ever have one.”
For a second, no more, Lucas’ face crumpled and then he straightened, his shoulders back, a small sad smile curving his mouth. “I see.”
Neither of them spoke. In the distance Ellen heard the baleful lowing of the cows waiting to be brought in, and the sudden, frenzied barking of her dog, Pat. The sounds of home, familiar and comforting, and yet she felt as if she and Lucas were in a world apart, suspended
in this disappointment and sadness.
Lucas let out a short laugh, pushing the hair from his forehead with long, slim fingers. “I thought it might be enough,” he said after a moment. “When I spoke to you in May, I thought all you needed is time. I was prepared to give you that.” Ellen could only nod, and Lucas managed a rueful smile. “But now that the moment is here, and I’ve declared myself, and I see how little you could give me, I realize I want more than a wife who may or may not come to love me in time. I just wish it could be you.”
“Oh Lucas,” Ellen choked, “you deserve someone to fall in love with you, head over heels.”
“I don’t know about deserve. But I couldn’t bear living side by side with you, Ellen, and knowing I wasn’t making you happy.”
Ellen brushed at her eyes with an impatient hand. At that moment she wished she was in love with Lucas, passionately, deeply in love, more than she’d wished for anything else. She wished she could change the leanings of her treacherous heart.
Yet she knew she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“So am I.” Lucas shoved his hands in his pockets and then looked up and stared straight at her, his eyes glittering. “Tell me, is it because of Jed?”
Ellen jerked back. “Jed?”
“I’m not blind. And I know you better than perhaps anyone else does. I don’t mean to sound arrogant in saying that, but I think I’m right. Do you love him?”
Ellen looked away. After Lucas had told her so much, he surely deserved her own honesty in return. “I thought I did, at Christmas,” she confessed unsteadily. “When I saw him with Louisa, I suddenly realized. It took me completely by surprise. I wasn’t expecting to ever...”
“Fall in love?”
“No, I wasn’t.” She turned to give him a small smile. “And now I’m not certain if that’s what it was, or if it was just hurt pride, or... I don’t know.” Her feelings for Jed were too complicated to explain or untangle. “But it doesn’t matter, Lucas, because that has nothing to do with you. What I feel for you.”
“Or what you don’t feel for me.”