Down Jasper Lane (Amherst Island Trilogy)

“It’s not a competition, Louisa.”

“Maybe not,” Louisa agreed, “although, after all, there is only one island.”

“One Amherst Island,” Ellen amended although she had the odd feeling that they weren’t talking about the island at all. Louisa nodded with a grim smile.

“Yes. Exactly.”

They both left the island a week later. The wind off the lake was chilly, blowing up white caps, and the leaves were touched with crimson and gold. Jed drove them to the ferry, his hat pulled down low over his eyes. He didn’t speak to either of them.

“Thank you for driving me to the ferry, Jed,” Louisa said with a pretty smile, and he just nodded, tipping the brim of his hat at her. It was, Ellen thought, a touching farewell—for Jed.

Then he turned to Ellen, and she could barely make out his expression under the low brim of his hat. “We’ll see you soon enough, I suppose.”

“In May, I hope.”

“You’ll come with the black flies.”

“And annoy you just as much, perhaps,” Ellen dared to tease. Then Jed smiled and chucked her under the chin. “Good thing the black flies disappear after a month. But I reckon you’ll stick around.”

“I mean to.”

“Working with the good doctor.”

She nodded, her throat suddenly ridiculously tight. Under the brim of his hat she caught sight of Jed’s eyes, dark and gray and as unreadable as ever. “Goodbye, Jed,” she said quietly.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes dark, his expression still so impossible to read, and yet Ellen had the strangest feeling that he was going to say something—something important.

Then Louisa gave a dainty little cough. “I think the Captain is waiting, Ellen,” she said, and sure enough, Captain Jonah was there in his boat, grinning toothlessly at them. She nodded and turned to leave.

“Goodbye, Miss Bossy,” Jed called after her, and for the first time it didn’t feel like he was teasing her.

Neither she nor Louisa spoke as Captain Jonah carried them to the mainland. Ellen sat facing the island, watching it until it was no more than a speck on the horizon, and then turned back to face the mainland that was coming up fast.

She felt a weight settle heavily inside her and knew that despite her intentions to try to enjoy being with Hamish and Ruth, already she was counting the days until she was back on the island... and her true life began once more, and not just that, but a new life brimming with possibilities and hope. Maybe not high school, but something. A future she could call her own.

“I’ll be back,” Louisa said, almost smugly, and Ellen turned to her, startled from her own thoughts.

“For the summer, you mean?”

“At least that,” Louisa said, and neither of them spoke again until they’d reached the mainland and all that awaited them there.

PART THREE

ONE

September, 1909

Three years later

The birch trees by the pond were tinged with yellow as Ellen sat with her sketchbook on her knees. It was early September, and there was a chill to the air that hadn’t been there a week or even a few days ago.

She leaned her head against the maple tree behind her and closed her eyes. This last summer at Jasper Lane had been a golden one, full of happy memories, days tending the garden or playing with the children, evenings telling stories by the fire. Berry picking and jam making, working in the garden, the MacDougall wedding (Captain Jonah had had too much to drink and serenaded the bride, singing terribly off key) and long, lazy days on the shore, paddling in the lake or looking for smooth skipping stones.

And it was all about to change. Ellen opened her eyes, shielding them from the sun as she gazed out at the fields that seemed to roll right into the blue-green waters of Lake Ontario.

Dyle and Peter were tending the harvest, and she could see on the other side of the pond Jed and Lucas were hard at work with their father. Ellen, Rose, Caro, Sarah and even Ruthie had all taken turns bringing in the wheat, and they jealously tended the McCafferty kitchen garden with its fat tomatoes and waxy yellow beans. The groundhog had eaten all the peas—Rose had been pragmatic about it.

“I never liked them anyway,” she said as she inspected a stripped plant. “So much fuss and bother for such a few little peas!”