Winter Shadows (25 page)

“Call me Blair. ‘Miss’ sounds terribly old.”

“Okay, we’ll follow you, Blair. You can make your deliveries afterward that way.”

“Sounds good, Martin. Come on, Daisy.”

“But I want to go with you, Cass. You promised,” Daisy moaned.

“Up to you, Cass,” Blair said.

Half an hour later, we squeezed Daisy into the small backseat and followed Blair’s van along the road to Selkirk.

Daisy was quiet. Martin kept looking at me with a small frown. “So are you put off about what I said last night? About … you know?”

I could almost
hear
Daisy’s ears prick up, so I answered carefully, “No. But I figured you might be sorry you ever said it.”

He took my hand. I heard an intake of breath from behind us. Martin grinned and turned the radio on. “Jingle Bells” was playing. He sang over it, “Jingle Bells/Batman smells/Robin laid an egg/The batmobile lost a wheel/And the Joker got away, HEY!”

Then Daisy did a version from school about Santa smelling and reindeer running away. Martin topped that with a gruesome “Dashing through the snow/on a pair of broken skis/over the hills we go/crashing through the trees/the snow is turning red/I think I’m almost dead/they rushed me to the hospital/I almost lost my head! HEY!”

We made up more verses as we went along. When we pulled up in front of a row of craft and gift shops, my stomach hurt from laughing. We met up with Blair and cruised the shops. I picked out a china Santa for Jean that I knew she’d detest – his suit was flaming pink and a wobbly-legged fawn looked up at him with sickening adoration. One of Santa’s eyes was off-center. Even
better, it cost me three bucks. I looked at a pair of smooth oval green-stone earrings that Mom would have loved, so I bought them for her.

When Blair wandered off with Daisy to look for my gift next door, I picked out a dark green angora hat and scarf set for Daisy and some silver hoop earrings for Blair with a matching clip-on bracelet. Then I bought a black-and-yellow scarf for Martin. In the truck, Daisy showed me a holly-leaf crystal brooch for Jean, but was careful not to show me another small box she covered with her hand. I grinned inside. Jean would hate that hideous pin.
Would she wear it Christmas Day to please Daisy? Would she put my Santa gift on display? Doubters
. I had a prick of guilt about the pink china Santa, but it didn’t last long.

Martin and I picked car stuff for our dads. I didn’t get the usual Terry’s Chocolate Orange for the toe of my father’s stocking. There were no traditions for us left, so why bother?

I walked with Martin toward the truck as Aunt Blair dragged Daisy into a toy store. “You two go on ahead and find some lunch,” she called. “I’ll take Daisy to the tea shop down the street when we’re done. I’ll meet you back here at one.”

The sun was shining, and, despite the wind, the inside of the truck was warm. “You want to go to the tea place with them?” Martin asked.

“No. I’m up to here with crowds. Let’s eat in the truck. There must be a competitor you want to check out?”

We took off, stopping at a chip shop that featured double dogs. We shared fries and analyzed the cheap oil on them.

“My parents don’t want me to run the restaurant,” Martin told me. “They say it’s just long hours, hard work, and worry. They want me to do what I want.”

“And that is?”

“Well, I hope to run the restaurant, actually.”

I laughed.

“Or,” he continued, “a trendy one in Winnipeg. I’m going to chef school after grade twelve. Apprentice at a good restaurant. Work here on weekends. My mom and dad think I’ll be a painter or a poet or an actor.”

I pushed him. “They wouldn’t want that. No money in it.”

He slicked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You want to be rich one day?”

“No. Just happy. I learned when Mom died how fast things can go wrong. Money can’t change that.”
Or buy a whole new day
, I thought.
Or alter something you did that you regret
 … 
but I won’t go there. Not today
.

His fingers twirled my hair. “So what’s with Daisy? It’s like she hangs on your every word. I thought you two hated each other.”

I shrugged, not moving my head in case he stopped. “She’s such a sad case, that kid. Those glasses are hideous. Her hair looks like a Victorian doll’s wig – stuck on her head like it doesn’t belong to her.”

I glanced over his shoulder and saw a couple of stores
that made me sit up. I put my hand on his arm. “I have the best idea!”

He smiled and leaned closer.
“Mmm
. Me, too.” I decided his idea was better … for now.

A few minutes later, someone rapped on the window. We both jumped back. Staring up at us was my unlovely stepsister, her huge glasses shining with interest.

“Where’s Blair?” I asked, rolling down the window.

She pointed at the idling van two cars down. “We’re going to deliver stuff to people who bought from Blair’s store.”

“You can’t. Wait here.” I got out of the truck and ran over to the van. “We’re going to spend more time in town, then take Daisy back to your place, if that’s okay.”

“Good idea,” Aunt Blair said. “I suspect your parents need a day alone.”

“Yeah, so Jean can lecture Dad on how I can’t be allowed to put that toothpaste back in the tube.” She looked puzzled. I added, “Never mind. See you at your place. We’ll be back by dinner.”

When she drove off, I grabbed Daisy’s hand and marched her toward the little shops on the other side of the road.

P
apa groped for his crutches. “Come to my study, Beatrice.”

We’d just closed the door behind us when Ivy pushed it open. She looked like a madwoman, with her thin wild hair, staring eyes, and red blotchy skin
.

“This daughter of yours has fallen with child and claims she is going to marry that upstart of a minister, who is no better than he should be! She doesn’t even deny it! You must cast her out, Gordon!”

“I have been home less than a month, Papa,” I said firmly. “I hardly know the man!”

“She’s lying!” Ivy spat out. “All those choir practices – home late afterward! Why else would a man of his background ask to marry her – a wanton half-breed.”

Papa stamped his crutches on the floor. “Ivy! Be quiet!”

“Listen to me, Gordon! I am telling you, she is –”

“You’ve taken too much laudanum again, Ivy. I have warned you how it twists your mind. Robert Dalhousie asked my daughter to marry him because he knows she will make the best of wives. Unlike you, who spreads poison like
a ripe plague through this household. If you do not stop these slanderous lies, I will send you to your son’s farm for good and shun you forever!”

Ivy backed against the door. “You would send me away? Duncan would not allow you.…”

Papa moved quickly toward her, sticks banging the floor. “Don’t test me, Ivy.”

She covered her face with her hands. “How can you speak to me this way? You know I love you, Gordon. You
know
I do.”

His face softened. “Yes, I know you do, my dear. “

She left the room quietly, head down
.

Had I heard right? Ivy actually loved my father?
And though he didn’t reply in kind, his anger had left as quickly as it came
.

“Papa, I don’t understand,” I said
.

He lowered himself onto the leather chair beside his desk. “I don’t expect you to, Beatrice. Sit down.” He looked out the window into the snow-glazed afternoon light, which glanced off the smooth planes of his face
.

“Ivy told me all about her life shortly after we buried Farmer Comper. She came to St. Cuthbert’s after meeting him at a friend’s house in Scotland. His country marriage had ended with the death of his Cree wife. Ivy was a widow and had been housekeeper to a bishop, who’d recently died. She was living with friends who could no longer keep her. Duncan had lived away from her for years with her aunt. She was destitute
.
Comper was looking for a wife. She really had no choice but to accept him.”

“Why was she so poor? Couldn’t she, too, have lived with her aunt?”

He shook his head. “Ivy came from a family of modest merchants in Edinburgh. She was engaged to marry the oldest son of a rich merchant. A feather in the family’s cap – a dull man, she said, but one who could offer her lifelong security. But then she fell in love with his younger brother. They eloped. Both families disowned them.”

“I can’t imagine Ivy running away with a lover. “

“I have a daguerreotype of her.” He opened a drawer and handed me a yellowing picture of a girl my age. She was thin, with soft eyes and a hopeful smile
.

“You see. She was rather pretty. She fell with child almost immediately, only to find that her young husband’s financial support had been taken away, not only because of her, but because of his enormous debts. She soon realized he was an addicted gambler when intoxicated and a repentant wretch when sober. They traveled around the country, Ivy taking on any work she could find and her husband gambling away what little they had, until he died a drawn-out painful death. She was left destitute. Fortunately, she was able to take on the housekeeper’s position at the bishopric when Duncan was five. He was sent to his great-aunt’s, with the agreement that Ivy would ask for nothing and give up all maternal rights.”

“How sad. For both her and for her son,” I murmured. No wonder the two were so awkward with each other
.

“The aunt ran a private school in the country. She was everything Ivy was not. One of the new intellectual women – a freethinker, as Kilgour calls them – interested in science and nature and in using one’s reason to decide what the world offers, rather than accepting old ideas. She was also possibly a deist – a believer in a divine being, but not in the authority of organized churches. The aunt taught Duncan art, music, and books. Ivy feels he has been terribly corrupted. But from what I know of the fellow, I believe he is open-minded and one who tries to see both sides of an issue. In any case, when his great-aunt died, she left everything to him. He used it to travel the world, having no idea where his mother was by then
.

“Soon after Comper died, Duncan returned to Scotland. Fortunately, Ivy had kept in touch with old friends, and that’s how he discovered where she was – here in Rupert’s Land. He came all this way to find her. “

“When she first came to Farmer Comper’s farm, there were children to look after, weren’t there?” I asked. “Minty and his older brother.”

“The older boy died just after Ivy and Comper married. That left only Minty.”

“Papa, when Minty and Ivy are together, she either ignores him or issues orders. It’s as if they hardly know each other. He must have been a wee boy when she came here. Doesn’t she care for him at all?”

“I asked her about that. She sent Minty to live with his mother’s family at the Indian town, St. Anthony’s, soon after his brother died. When Josiah Comper died, she brought
Minty back to help with the farm. She told me he is not her son, so she feels little affection for him. Despite all this, Minty’s a good lad.”

“Why did you marry her, Papa?”

He smiled. “She started out as my housekeeper. I was lonely; she was company. One day, she told me about her hard life and her bitter marriage to Comper. When I first suggested that we wed, she refused. But when I pressed her, she admitted she was ashamed of her two previous marriages. I felt sorry for her, Bea. I also liked her – she was different before we married.”

“She was in love,” I said
.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I was the first man in her life to be kind. Her father was a tyrant, her first husband a wastrel, and Comper a silent, harsh man. I could see, soon after we wed, that she was hoarding food. I tried to understand why and let it go at that. She and I were quietly content until my accident, and then –”