Down Jasper Lane (Amherst Island Trilogy)

“It will be strange to see Louisa again,” Lucas commented as he settled himself next to her and the carriage rolled down the hospital’s lane. Ellen had already told him of Louisa’s planned visit the last time they’d taken tea together. “Jed always said she was too fancy for the island.”

“Did he?” Ellen asked diffidently, unsure what to make of this comment or the fierce dart of joy—or was it relief?—she felt at knowing Jed had said it.

“I’m surprised she wants to come back again. I thought she’d marry some city slicker and live in New York or Boston.”

“Perhaps she will, in time. In any case, she hasn’t any other place to go this Christmas, and she’s always liked the island, in her own way.” Lucas shrugged, unconvinced, and Ellen adjusted her hat. “It will be good to see an old friend,” she said firmly, needing to convince not just Lucas but herself.

When Ellen finally did see Louisa waiting at the dock in Millhaven, her friend fell joyfully into her arms.

“Oh, Ellen, it’s so good to see you!” Louisa cried. “It’s so good to be here!”

Lucas and Peter stood back, bemused, while Ellen and Louisa exchanged greetings, and Ellen accepted Louisa’s warm embrace with surprise but also affection. She’d actually missed Louisa, silly and spiteful as she could be. Louisa linked arms with her, just as she’d done so many years ago in the Seaton schoolyard, and together they clambered into the sledge driven by Captain Jonah and his two pack ponies across the ice.

All of Ellen’s doubts about Louisa’s visit were quite nearly wiped away in the light of her friend’s bubbling good humor and delight in being on the island and in the McCaffertys’ home. Both Ellen and Louisa were pleased at the winter festivities and amusements that had been planned, from an ice sculpture contest in Stella to a sleigh ride arranged by Jed and Lucas.

Bundled up in their warmest coats and scarves, with thick fur rugs piled over them, Jed led the horse-drawn sleigh down a Jasper Lane transformed by snow and ice into a fantastic fairy land.

Ellen squashed the disappointment and irritation she felt when Louisa took the seat next to Jed, content to share the backseat with Lucas.

She smiled at Lucas, conscious of his closeness under the heavy rugs, and he smiled back. She watched as Louisa merrily tucked her arm into Jed’s, giving a light, little laugh as sh

e did so. Ellen’s stomach clenched as Louisa, giving that irritating little laugh again, brushed a dusting of snow from Jed’s dark hair. Surely that was a bit forward.

“Looks like Jed has an admirer,” Lucas murmured, and Ellen forced herself to smile.

“Louisa loves to be charming,” she agreed, and then turned to gaze at the passing scenery, the evergreens heavy laden with snow, the sky a dazzling blue.

The wind nipped their cheeks and ears, and Louisa, Ellen saw, remained cuddled quite close to Jed. Why did she mind? Why did it hurt? It was nothing to her what Louisa did with Jed. Yet no matter how many times she told herself that, she could not acknowledge it as the truth.

She did mind. It did hurt. And the realization was both alarming and appalling.

Determinedly Ellen turned to Lucas, giving him her full attention. It was a silly, childish ploy, and one that would only hurt her in the end she realized too late, as Lucas’ eyes brightened and he even dared to rest his arm along the top of the sledge, so although he was not touching Ellen, it was as if he had his arm around her shoulders. Almost.

Once Ellen saw Jed glance back, his eyes flicking along the length of Lucas’ arm, but he said nothing, his expression not changing in the least before he turned back to the horses.

It was ridiculous, Ellen thought despondently, to feel this way, to act this way. She was eighteen years old, and yet she felt like a spoiled child, wanting to stamp her feet and cry ‘not fair’.

Jed was her friend. They’d been together for the last three years, without Lucas or Louisa, and while their friendship hadn’t really changed from the teasing mockery and affection of an earlier time, it had deepened and strengthened somehow... or at least Ellen had thought it had.

Perhaps it hadn’t.

For as the days passed, however, there could be no denying the preference Louisa showed for the older Lyman brother. Ellen watched with slightly narrowed eyes as Louisa always took Jed’s arm, lightly and laughingly, yet with a steady purpose all the same. She saw how Jed obliged, even though he seemed to regard Louisa, with her fine clothes and bright gaiety, with some bemusement.

Why, Ellen asked herself again and again, should she care if Louisa and Jed flirted, or even fell in love for that matter? Hadn’t Louisa told her all those years ago she reckoned she could make Jed fall in love with her? Ellen hadn’t taken her seriously, had never taken her seriously perhaps, because the thought of Jed falling for someone like Louisa seemed too ludicrous for words. He was smarter than that, no matter that he hadn’t attended high school or university. He deserved better than Louisa.

Yet as Ellen gazed at the oak tree’s ice-encased branches outside her window on Christmas Eve, her sketchbook untouched on her lap, she was forced to acknowledge that perhaps Jed wasn’t as smart as she thought. Perhaps his head would be turned by Louisa’s pretty ways and he’d fall in love with her. And she could no longer tell herself she didn’t care what Louisa or Jed did, because she knew she did care. She cared a great deal.

Sighing dispiritedly, she leaned her forehead against the cold glass. There could be nothing in Jed and Louisa’s moments together, she told herself. Jed hadn’t really seen Louisa in three years. He was no doubt humoring her, as she was amusing herself.

And yet... and yet... what if there was something it? What if Jed fell for Louisa, with her glossy hair and dimpled cheeks and fancy clothes?

Ellen knew she had not thought seriously of her feelings for Jed before, and now she knew why. She was afraid. She was afraid that Jed felt nothing for her but a light, brotherly affection that could quite easily be disposed of. It was a fear she did not want to face, and one she certainly did not wish Jed to confirm openly, even as she still stubbornly refused to acknowledge what she felt for him.

“He’s rude and oafish and bad-mannered,” she whispered fiercely, and recognized how hollow her words sounded. Jed was no longer the sullen boy she’d met all those years ago, and she wasn’t the timid and uncertain girl fresh off the boat. Yet even though they’d both changed, at least on the outside, Ellen knew that first meeting had marked her forever. She’d been drawn to Jed from the moment she’d met him, had always thought of him and looked for him, and now she could no longer tell herself she didn’t like him.

Restlessly Ellen tossed the sketchbook aside and went downstairs. It was nearing supper, and everyone had gathered in the front parlor before the meal. Ellen could see Peter and Caro playing jackstraws, the light from the fire and the oil lamps casting a cozy glow over the happy, domestic scene.

“Come join us,” Caro entreated. She was thirteen years old now and turning into quite the beauty with her glossy dark hair and green eyes like Dyle’s. “Jed and Lucas have promised to come and roast chestnuts later, too, Ellen.”