Outcasts of River Falls (18 page)

By the time they arrived home,
Kathryn was ex
hausted from the stress and couldn’t imagine how her aunt felt. While Aunt Belle prepared their tea, Kathryn started the fire. She watched as the hungry flames devoured the wood. It was mesmerizing and she stared blankly into their fiery depths, the day’s events swirling in the embers.

“Katy, you’re very quiet. Are you feeling ill?” Her aunt asked as she placed the tea tray down.

Startled out of her reverie, Kathryn was about to say she was fine, then without warning, something shattered inside her. “I do feel sick, Aunt Belle, but it’s not what you think.” She rubbed her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. “This afternoon...I, well, I...” She didn’t know how to say the words, then, facing her aunt, the shame rushed out. “I was there, I saw what Blake was trying to do to you and I froze. I was afraid and did nothing. I feel sick that I was such a coward.”

“Oh,
ma chère
, don’t blame yourself. Of course, you were afraid. What happened today was terrifying.”

Her aunt reached out for Kathryn’s hand but she pulled it back. “No! No excuses. My behaviour was despicable. I should have been rescuing you and instead, I abandoned you. I am a terrible person. Oh, Aunt Belle, I am so dreadfully sorry. I will never abandon you or anyone else in need again. I promise with all my heart if only you will forgive me.”

The pain in her aunt’s eyes was almost too much to bear. Kathryn felt her knees start to shake. Surely Aunt Belle must hate her, but the words that came next, made Kathryn want to sing with relief.

“You are not a coward and you are most certainly not a terrible person.” Aunt Belle sadly shook her head. “Today was overwhelming Katy, and you have already been through so much. Blake is a rabid dog and no one in their right mind would go near an animal like him. I am a grown woman who has faced abuse for many years and I was afraid! Don’t chide yourself for an honest and normal reaction. There is nothing to forgive. We are home and we are both safe. I love you, dear one, and will always love you.”

Kathryn rushed to her aunt and Belle’s arms folded protectively around her, warm and comforting. They held each other for a long while, then her aunt kissed the top of her head.

“Come, Katydid, you promised me tea.”

With a much lighter heart, Kathryn poured the hot, black beverage and listened as her aunt extolled the virtues of the exquisite buttons, perfect thread and other wonderful bits and bobs she had purchased today.

Finally, as evening crept stealthily in, they sat together enjoying each other’s silent company, the only sound the ticking of the mantle clock and the occasional crackle as the logs burned down to ash.

“It was really quite a day, one you’ll remember, I’m sure.” Her aunt said at last.

“Definitely not one I’d like to repeat,” Katherine sighed, tucking her feet under her as she curled up in the comfortable wing chair. She remembered Aunt Belle mentioning Claude Remy, almost as though threatening the constable with her jealous, tough boyfriend. Unfortunately, Constable Blake hadn’t been the least bit worried about the big woodsman, which was short-sighted on his part. Having an angry suitor the size of an ox hunting you for harassing his fair lady was not something any right-minded interloper should take lightly.

It reminded her of Madame Ducharme’s story about Belle’s fiancé, Gabriel. Her aunt wasn’t unattractive, nor was she really that old. Kathryn wondered if her aunt was lonely having taken on the role of the Spinster of River Falls.

“Aunt Belle, may I ask you a rather personal question?”

Her aunt seemed not the least taken aback. “Of course.... But there is no guarantee I will answer it.” A ghost of a smile played on her lips.

“I was wondering if you’re lonely, living here in your cabin in the woods.”

Belle paused and her face took on a soft expression. “I won’t lie to you. I miss my Gabe. He is the best man I ever met and I cherish every minute with him. We have a destiny together.”

Kathryn noted Aunt Belle’s manner when speaking of her departed beau. She was obviously unwilling to face the fact that he was dead. Sometimes, we keep our loved ones so alive in our hearts that we refuse to let them go. It was tragic and Kathryn ached for her aunt but she understood especially when she thought of her father. “He sounds like he was a wonderful man.”

Her aunt poured the last of the tea. “How about you? Did you leave a special someone behind in Toronto?”

Kathryn blushed. “Me? Oh, no, the convent wasn’t ex
actly overrun with suitable young men and when we did have a social, the ‘black crows’ were ever vigil so that none of our reputations were sullied. What this meant for we young ladies was that there was never a chance to learn more from the young men than their names.”

Picking up her cup, Kathryn’s face filled with mischief. “Aunt Belle, I have to know. What did you throw at the horse?”

Her aunt sipped delicately. “While at the store, I bought a little black pepper since we’re running low and thought I’d share it.”

Her aunt stated this so matter-of-factly, Kathryn was unsure she’d heard correctly. Carefully, she set her cup down and cleared her throat. “Apparently, Aunt Belle, horses don’t like pepper, any more than I like this...” She withdrew the licorice stick she’d tucked in her pocket before the trouble started.

Belle’s face lit up as though Kathryn held an enchanted bean that would grow a stalk to a castle in the clouds. “Oh, Katydid! You clever girl. Thank you.”

She reached for the treat, only to have Kathryn hold it out of reach. “I have to warn you. It’s slightly used.”

“I don’t care if Cyrus Blake licked it...” Aunt Belle stopped. “No, wait, even for a licorice stick, I can’t stoop that low! Darn close though. Now, hand it over.” She made a lunge for Kathryn and both of them dissolved into laughter.

“Back home, ladies don’t drive carriages. We hire men to do that sort of chore.” Kathryn shied away from the proffered reins.

“Out here, we don’t hire people, Katy; we’re the people folks hire. Surely you understand that by now.”

Accepting the challenge, Kathryn tried gingerly shaking the reins: the merest suggestion to Nellie that it would be nice if the old dear could amble slowly, cautiously into town, no rush, they had all the time in the world; then with what Kathryn could only describe as a completely evil sounding whinny, the crazy horse raced off as though the hounds of hell were snapping at her tail.

Controlling the beast quickly proved to be quite beyond
Kathryn’s abilities. They hit a deep rut, causing the buggy to come perilously close to tipping. She shrieked, yanking on the reins as Nellie ran off the road and detoured into the tall grass. Pulling hard, she managed to get both the horse and the buggy back on the road where the Phaeton slewed dangerously back and forth, so violently that Aunt
Belle finally had to retake the reins to prevent a total dis
aster, much to Kathryn’s relief.

The experience was terrifying and Kathryn wanted nothing more to do with driving the Phaeton, or any other conveyance. One had to know one’s strengths and being a mule skinner for a particularly stubborn jackass was not hers.

Nellie, contrary beast that she was, knew immediately who was in control and docilely complied with anything Aunt Belle requested without balking, biting or running wild. By the time they tied up the horse in a shaded alley in town, both Aunt Belle and Kathryn were laughing again.

“Would you deliver these to Sergeant Prentiss at the barracks while I pick up a few provisions?” Her aunt gave Kathryn the bundle of dresses.

“Of course. I’ll meet you back here in a tick.” Kathryn knew that building well as it came with the fondest of memories. It was where she had first laid eyes on her new suitor, Mark.

When she entered the detachment, a big man with a clay pipe clamped between his teeth was pinning up a poster on the wall. His brown field jacket was impeccable and the buttons polished to a gleam. The lanyard running down his barrel chest was spotless and Kathryn’s eye was drawn to the well-worn gun holster on his belt.

“Excuse me; do you know where I can find Sergeant Prentiss?”

He turned to her. “You found him, ma’am.” It was then Kathryn noticed the four chevrons on his sleeve.

“Belle Tourond sent me to deliver these dresses. Where would you like them?”

“My wife’s been expecting those.” The sergeant gave his head a shake as the corner of his mouth opposite the pipe, twitched up into a smile. “There’s a church social on Sunday and she wants her little girls to outshine all the other little girls. Doesn’t seem very Christian to me, but after fifteen years of marriage, I’ve learned not to argue with my commanding officer. You can put them in the storage room in the back.”

He indicated a hallway at the rear of the office.

In the passage, Kathryn found two unmarked doors, one on each side, and further along, barring her way, she saw another labelled
Cells
. Curious, she tiptoed down the hall and opened this one a crack. The three cells were cold and sparse, each with a wooden sleeping platform and a chamber pot. Horrid! There was also an exit to the outside and she wondered if it was through that grave portal that they led the condemned men to the gallows tree. It was a gruesome thought and she hastily returned to the hallway. Wondering which unmarked door was the storage room, she tossed a mental gold doubloon – after all, if one was going to use an imaginary coin, it may as well be a valuable piece – and chose.

Inside there was a chair and slung over the back was the slovenly brown uniform jacket she remembered seeing on Cyrus Blake. What a difference from Sergeant Prentiss’s spit-and-polish regalia. This had to be Constable Dung’s office.

The desk was strewn with papers and folders. She sniffed and winced at the fetid odour. There were stubbed-out cigars, empty bean cans, discarded and mouldy food, any or all of which could be the cause of the stink. How could anyone breathe, let alone work in there? Disgusting.

Trying the door on the opposite side of the hall, Kathryn discovered it was indeed the storage room with labelled boxes of files, rifles locked in a cabinet and a saddle on a wooden sawhorse with a tin of dubbin sitting beside it. Next to this, in a glass fronted cabinet, was Sergeant Prentiss’s dress uniform. The red serge jacket blazed scarlet fire while
the shiny spurs sparked like quicksilver on the highly pol
ished knee high boots. Suppressing the urge to snoop
into the other items in the cabinet, she wiped the dust off a
crate and carefully laid the dresses down.

Closing the door as she left, Kathryn turned and ran full force into Constable Blake.

He leered rudely. “What are you doing here? Did you miss me?”

She stepped back quickly as though this time, she truly had met the Big Bad Wolf with his fangs bared and his breath reeking of rotten meat.

“I’m delivering a dress order for my aunt,” she stammered.

“Belle’s with you?” Blake asked eagerly.

“Yes, she’s waiting for me now, and I’d better not be late.” And with that, Kathryn edged by him, fleeing from the jail. That man was truly unsettling.

When Kathryn joined Aunt Belle, she didn’t mention her encounter with the constable. She knew it would only upset her aunt. Instead, they discussed the new sewing project, or more accurately, Aunt Belle discussed the project as sewing was another of those domestic things Kathryn had no expertise or interest in.

As they made their way down the boardwalk, a group of whiskered men in severe black suits came out of a building. The party were talking amongst themselves as Kathryn watched them approach. Instead of parting for the two ladies, as all gentlemen should, the men seemed oblivious to Kathryn and her aunt.

“I hope Mr. McGraw got in his new shipment of buttons at the mercantile...” Her aunt stepped down off the boardwalk and onto the dirt street, narrowly avoiding dragging the hem of her dress through some fresh horse droppings. Without a pause, she reached up and pulled Kathryn after her. “I’d like something special for the beaver coat.”

The men walked past with no form of acknowledgment or greeting, secure in their position as kings of the realm.

Once they’d moved on, Belle climbed back onto the walkway without comment and continued their conversation. “Of course, fancy will cost more but in my opinion, it will be worth it. If this coat is a success, other ladies will order from me and we’ll be in the furrier business.”

Kathryn was aghast. She stood rooted to the spot, gaping up at her aunt from the dusty street. “Aunt Belle! Those, those...
gentleman!
Why did you make us step off the boardwalk?”

Her aunt’s excitement of a moment before evaporated.
“Katy, we don’t want to cause any problems, and it’s expected for us, for the Métis, to give way to those who live in town.”

“You mean to the
white people
. That’s utter nonsense. Unacceptable. I deserve the respect that should be shown any lady, no matter what her race. Scurrying into the gutter! Impossible!” Kathryn was furious as she climbed back onto the boardwalk and shook the dirt from her skirt. “When I read
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
, I was so thankful I lived in Canada where cruel treatment of another human being
because of his skin colour didn’t happen. I see now, the se
quel to Mrs. Stowe’s novel could easily be written right here in Hopeful!”