apple trees, to continue grafting various strains. But he did not want to give up the other farm and cattle he owned on Salt Spring Island, so his sons Maynard and Adam stayed behind with their mother to run it. His daughter Ruby is a schoolteacher in the Cedar district, not far from Chase River.
Jane pulls all of this out of him with questions, when she delivers his clothes to him. By nature, he is a quiet man who does not like to talk about himself. His cabin has become the schoolroom she misses so much, where she can dwell in visions from realms other than her own. She grieves to think of him as a young lad wearing only one garment for night and day, sleeping on a straw mattress on a dirt floor in a shack with rags for covers. One pot of stew set in the middle of the floor fed all the children, eating from their knees. In fact, whenever Mama mentions the Monmouths now, Jane thinks of the young Louis Strong instead. And she no longer takes her familyâs covers for granted; they are quilts that Mama and Margaret sewed back in Wales, threadbare now in places, but more than adequate to keep everybody warm. Probably Margaret and Catherine are stitching new counterpanes at this very moment to replace the ones sent to Canada. Jane lifts her pen from the paper and can almost hear her older sister scolding Cassie to stay at her task and stop daydreaming so much or playing with Gwynyth and Evan.
A snort from Gomer reminds Jane it is time to move him from Tommyâs bedroom to the couch. Bundled in blankets, he wheezes as she guides him, still asleep, the few steps to the front room. When Tommy finishes the two small bedrooms he plans to add, Gomer and Jane will each have a sleeping space. She would gladly share hers with Cassie, as she did in Wales. On her way back to the letter, Jane checks to make sure Mama is still sleeping. And as if someone else might be looking over her shoulder, she swivels her head before writing: Last week I met his younger son and his daughter at his cabin. They are golden in colour with smiles all over their faces. She could never record that she spent half an hour alone in the company of Louisâ son Adam after Ruby rode her horse back to her schoolhouse. Even putting his name on paper feels bold, and she omits it.
Jane cannot reveal that she considers Adam Strong to be the most beautiful boy she has ever laid eyes on. Standing next to him in Louisâ yard caused all kinds of sensations she has never felt before: pounding heart, light head, and gibberish coming out of her mouth. At eighteen, he is almost three years older than Jane, who will be sixteen in December. She once met Mrs. Strong when she came over to help her husband make apple cider; Adam is not as dark as his mother but darker than his father who carries the imprint of his own white father. Louis, in fact, could almost pass for someone of Spanish or Greek descent, though he would never have tried such a thing in the United States. She thinks of Adamâs shade in terms of the old dressers and tables Tommy picks up from other miners, then sands and revarnishes to a gleaming finish. Light oak is the colour of Adamâs face in the sun; his neck, polished maple, and his arms, a rich mahogany. He seems as strong and still as an oak himself, just like his father, whom he shows respect and affection at all times. He works hard tending his parentsâ cattle and farm, because his older brother comes to Salt Spring Island only on his time off from prospecting for gold on the Skeena River in the north. With Maynard away so much, Adam has become the one his mother depends on. Jane smiles to think of Gomer taking on such a load when he cannot yet build a proper fire in the stove. All this she will tell Catherine when they are finally together again. For now she closes with kisses, inserts from a can on the shelf the $10 bill Tommy has instructed her to send, and seals the letter in an envelope.
The sun has begun to break through
Jane pulls all of this out of him with questions, when she delivers his clothes to him. By nature, he is a quiet man who does not like to talk about himself. His cabin has become the schoolroom she misses so much, where she can dwell in visions from realms other than her own. She grieves to think of him as a young lad wearing only one garment for night and day, sleeping on a straw mattress on a dirt floor in a shack with rags for covers. One pot of stew set in the middle of the floor fed all the children, eating from their knees. In fact, whenever Mama mentions the Monmouths now, Jane thinks of the young Louis Strong instead. And she no longer takes her familyâs covers for granted; they are quilts that Mama and Margaret sewed back in Wales, threadbare now in places, but more than adequate to keep everybody warm. Probably Margaret and Catherine are stitching new counterpanes at this very moment to replace the ones sent to Canada. Jane lifts her pen from the paper and can almost hear her older sister scolding Cassie to stay at her task and stop daydreaming so much or playing with Gwynyth and Evan.
A snort from Gomer reminds Jane it is time to move him from Tommyâs bedroom to the couch. Bundled in blankets, he wheezes as she guides him, still asleep, the few steps to the front room. When Tommy finishes the two small bedrooms he plans to add, Gomer and Jane will each have a sleeping space. She would gladly share hers with Cassie, as she did in Wales. On her way back to the letter, Jane checks to make sure Mama is still sleeping. And as if someone else might be looking over her shoulder, she swivels her head before writing: Last week I met his younger son and his daughter at his cabin. They are golden in colour with smiles all over their faces. She could never record that she spent half an hour alone in the company of Louisâ son Adam after Ruby rode her horse back to her schoolhouse. Even putting his name on paper feels bold, and she omits it.
Jane cannot reveal that she considers Adam Strong to be the most beautiful boy she has ever laid eyes on. Standing next to him in Louisâ yard caused all kinds of sensations she has never felt before: pounding heart, light head, and gibberish coming out of her mouth. At eighteen, he is almost three years older than Jane, who will be sixteen in December. She once met Mrs. Strong when she came over to help her husband make apple cider; Adam is not as dark as his mother but darker than his father who carries the imprint of his own white father. Louis, in fact, could almost pass for someone of Spanish or Greek descent, though he would never have tried such a thing in the United States. She thinks of Adamâs shade in terms of the old dressers and tables Tommy picks up from other miners, then sands and revarnishes to a gleaming finish. Light oak is the colour of Adamâs face in the sun; his neck, polished maple, and his arms, a rich mahogany. He seems as strong and still as an oak himself, just like his father, whom he shows respect and affection at all times. He works hard tending his parentsâ cattle and farm, because his older brother comes to Salt Spring Island only on his time off from prospecting for gold on the Skeena River in the north. With Maynard away so much, Adam has become the one his mother depends on. Jane smiles to think of Gomer taking on such a load when he cannot yet build a proper fire in the stove. All this she will tell Catherine when they are finally together again. For now she closes with kisses, inserts from a can on the shelf the $10 bill Tommy has instructed her to send, and seals the letter in an envelope.
The sun has begun to break through
Similar Books
