Down Jasper Lane (Amherst Island Trilogy)

“If you pass the examination,” Ruth said abruptly, “we will think about it.” And she turned away, bustling out of the room before Ellen could so much as stammer her thanks.

In the middle of June, with a bright blue sky above, Ellen and Louisa boarded the train to Rouse’s Point, as Hamish waved cheerfully and Mrs. Hopper cried noisily into her handkerchief on the station platform. Aunt Ruth hadn’t come to the station, which didn’t really surprise Ellen but hurt her nonetheless. “Someone needs to mind the store,” Ruth had told her sharply.

The train journey was uneventful, and after the first few hours Louisa’s excited chatter died away and she asked no more questions about the island. They were soon both lost in their thoughts, exhausted by the time they reached the boarding house, and then onto the train to Ogdensberg and on to Millhaven the next morning.

“I heard another little lady was coming,” Captain Jonah greeted Ellen as she and Louisa stepped on board the rickety little boat to Amherst Island. The blue-green waves were frilled with white and the breeze was chilly even though the sun shone. “Rose said a friend of yours was going to summer here. What’s your name, missy?”

“Louisa Hopper.” Louisa looked taken aback by Captain Jonah’s craggy face and toothless grin, and despite the churning anxiety at how Louisa would take to the island, Ellen had to suppress a smile. Louisa had a look on her face that said she’d wished she’d lent credence to the things Ellen had warned her about.

The spray from the lake stung Ellen’s face and the blue-green waters fairly shimmered in the sunlight. She could barely keep from laughing aloud for joy, for she couldn’t believe she was finally here, on her way to the island, over a year since she’d last seen its shores. And soon she’d see all the McCaffertys again, and Lucas and Jed and all her friends from school as well. Ellen leaned forward in the boat, as if she could will it to travel faster.

Captain Jonah chatted for a few minutes about island affairs—the money raised for a new library, the scandal caused by Mr. McGuiness’ hiring of two boys to fetch a horse from Kingston, only to have them let the animal loose in the city streets for a prank.

“Was the poor creature hurt?” Ellen asked, and Captain Jonah spat neatly into the foaming water.

“Scairt, more like. The wretched beast won’t ever be the same now, and Mr. McGuiness wants his money back from those boys, but he ain’t getting it from the scalawags, and that’s a fact.”

Louisa’s eyebrows rose to her hairline at the Captain’s colorful language, but Ellen just grinned. It was good to be back.

This time when Ellen came off the ferry, a wagon hitched to two horses was waiting in front of the station, and Dyle stood by it, a wide grin on his face, his dark eyes snapping with life and excitement. He looked, Ellen saw with relief and joy, just the same. Everything, from Stella’s neat wooden buildings to the old weathered barns and the rolling hills in the distance, looked exactly the same. Ellen could have cried with both joy and relief.

“Ellen, my girl!” Dyle called, and held out his arms. Ellen ran straight into them.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said, breathing in the scent of hay and pipe tobacco that was completely her uncle’s and yet reminded her, just a little bit, of her own father. “It’s so good to be back.”

“It’s good to have you back,” Dyle replied as he hugged her tightly. “You need to keep us all on the straight and narrow, remember!” He turned kindly eyes to Louisa. Now, this must be your friend Miss Hopper.”

Louisa nodded stiffly, and taking pity on her, Ellen pulled her forward. “Louisa, this is my Uncle Dyle.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Louisa said in a scratchy whisper, her face pale and her manner horribly stiff. Ellen tensed, but Dyle, taking the measure of her in one knowing gaze, smiled easily.

“And you, Miss Louisa, if I may be so bold as to call you that! Climb in the wagon, girls, and I’ll get your valises. Rose has made us all a fine slap-up meal.”

Dyle regaled them with news of all the McCaffertys and the Lymans all the way home. “Ruthie’s shot up a foot this year, Ellen, she’s quite the little madam. Peter can’t wait to go to Glebe, he’s practicing for his exams already and he’s only eleven. Lucas will go up to Glebe in the fall, of course.”

“And Jed’s been at Glebe this whole year?” Ellen said. Dyle didn’t say anything for a moment, and Ellen saw his eyes were narrowed against the lowering sun, his mouth a considering line. “Isn’t he at Glebe, Uncle Dyle?”

“Well, now he has been,” Dyle answered, twitching the reins. “But the fact is Maeve Lyman’s taken another poorly turn, and Jed’s come home to help with things.” He paused, glancing at Ellen with a somber look, especially coming from him. “Truth is, people say this’ll be the last turn she’ll ever take. Spring came more than a month ago now and she hasn’t got up from her bed the way she used to when the weather turned for the better.”

“Poor Mrs. Lyman,” Ellen murmured. She remembered taking that pie to the Lymans, and seeing Jed and Lucas’ mother lying in her bed, her face pale and waxy, the smell of the sickroom all around her. She’d read a psalm, and Mrs. Lyman had smiled. “I’ll pay her a visit,” Ellen said now, and Dyle smiled.

“That’d be nice of you, Ellen. I remember she took to you while you were here. And now you haven’t asked about Patch!”

“Caro’s written me all about her,” Ellen said with a laugh. “She’s three times the size she was, or so Caro says. How is she doing, Uncle Dyle?”

“Patch?” Louisa said uncertainly, and from her wary expression Ellen knew Louisa was wondering if this was yet another strange islander.

“Patch is Ellen’s dog,” Dyle explained. “A lovely little thing, black as coal, with a white patch over her eye. She looks like a pirate.”

“I can’t wait to see her!” Ellen exclaimed. She’d missed her little dog, along with everything else.

Louisa shot Ellen a curious look. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“I expect there are plenty of things you don’t know about Ellen,” Dyle said in his same affable tone, yet Ellen thought she detected a thread of possessive steel under her uncle’s friendliness, and it made her glad. She had a feeling Dyle had taken the full measure of Louisa in those first few minutes, and the anxiety that had knotted in her stomach eased a little.

The farmhouse was awash with the last of the sun’s rays as they drove up Jasper Lane with its arch of oak trees, the leaves golden in the fading sunlight, the soft summer twilight beginning to settle on the rolling meadow.

Rose had opened the door before Dyle had even stopped the wagon, fiddling impatiently with her apron strings as she hurried to greet Ellen, the children tumbling like puppies behind her.