Tag: prairie-life

Fury of the Wind

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Excerpt

The Nimkus Fall Fair proved a huge success. Even some of the
town matrons relented at the last minute, or at least before it was
too late to enter their exhibits. Most of them grew flowers and vegetable
gardens, and they could not pass up the chance to compete
against the farm women.
But this year, not only the town matrons participated. Miss Carrington
entered her crocheted doilies and embroidered pillow case
as well as a couple of jars of Saskatoon preserves. She also agreed to
be a judge for some of the exhibits, a prestigious job that had always
been reserved for two or more of the business men’s wives, or town
women from Bradshaw.
Millie Osborne was not to be outdone, either. She had worked all
through the previous winter and most of the spring, knitting socks
and sweaters. Her grown sons had laughed at her, asking if she was
trying to get in with the high mucky-mucks around town. But Millie
would not be discouraged.
“After all,” she told her boys, “Mr. Carson says I have to support
the Association now that I’m an Ag member.”
“Aw, Maw,” they chided, “you can’t compete with the biddies who
live in this town. They’ve been doing this stuff for years.”
“You mind your own business, you louts,” Millie said. “My things
will look just as nice and tidy as any others on display.” And they
did, as her boys were forced to admit when they saw them next to
other exhibits on the day of the fair.
Pong, the laundryman, did not have anything to exhibit but
he worked tirelessly all day, as well as the evening before the fair,
helping to set up booths, carrying and fetching, happy just to be of
service to Will and Missy Ben.
Holding the clipboard that had once been Will’s responsibility,
Sarah looked around her at the people gathered on the fair grounds.
Many greeted her with a nod or a cheery, “Good day, Mrs. Fielding,”
or, from the less reserved ones, “Hi there, Sarah, how’s it going?”
Was it her imagination or were there actually more people than
there had been last year? She saw Mrs. Thompson leading little David
McNeill by the hand, and walked over to them.
“I see you have your hands full for the day,” Sarah said, bending
to give David a hug.

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Wellspring of Love

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excerpt

She’s not a bad person. The kids from church call her fast, whatever
that means, but she’s not what they make it sound like.”
“If you say so. Anyway, you were at her graduation ceremony yesterday.
Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s not the same thing, Ronnie, and you know it. The party
tonight is at her place and it’s just for special friends.”
“Well, you’d just better forget it.” Ronnie picked up his mug and
got to his feet. “I’ve got to get to work. Morley’ll be ready to start the
cutting. And listen, Rachael, give your mom a break and don’t make
things harder for her. She has enough to worry about with Aunt
Millie being sick.”
Rachael’s look changed from one of self-pity to a worried frown.
She stood up. “Ronnie, do you think … that is … is Aunt Millie going
to make it?”
A cloud passed over his face. “I hope so, I really hope so. But only
God knows that, and all we can do is pray for her.” He put his mug in
the sink, retrieved his cap and went out.
Rachael stood for a minute longer staring at the closed door, then
she went to the phone to call Lyssa.
ͣMorley and Ronald were sitting at the kitchen table when Tyne walked
in a little before nine o’clock that evening. Both men turned quickly
to look at her. The aroma of coffee drew her eyes to the stove where a
pot hissed and bubbled an invitation. Responding to their greeting, she
bent to kiss Morley’s cheek. Sensing his intention as he started to rise,
she murmured, “Don’t get up, honey. I’ll help myself to the coffee.”
“But you look worn out, Sweetheart.”
“And you have been working all day in the fields.” She filled a mug
with coffee and sat down at the table.
Both men spoke at once. “How’s Aunt Millie?”

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763327

Water in the Wilderness

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excerpt

Tyne held her breath, partly from anxiety, partly to avoid breathing in the stale, musty odour coupled with an even stronger smell of cigarette smoke than she had detected in the lobby.
“Here it is,” Arthur said suddenly with a slight tug on her arm, “room 312.” He rapped lightly on the door and waited. When there was no response, he raised his hand and rapped louder and longer.
They heard the creak of bed springs followed by a low groan. Arthur rapped again. A muffled voice from inside the room rasped, “Whatdaya want? Go away.”
“Corky Conrad,” Arthur boomed, “is that you?”
The answer was drowned out by several doors along the corridor opening simultaneously. Tyne swung around to see three grizzled heads peering out. A woman from the room across the hall pulled a threadbare dressing gown around her and whined, “Why don’t you shut up? It’s enough to wake the dead. Whatchadoin’ here, anyway? It’s the middle of the night, and you won’t get any response from old Corky for hours yet.”
Arthur ignored her and banged on the door again. “Come on, Corky, open up. There’s someone here to see you.”
From inside the room they heard a shuffling sound accompanied by angry muttering. “Can’t ya even wait till a man gets his pants on? All right, I’m comin’, I’m coming.”
Tyne felt weak in the knees. She longed to lean against the wall for support, but one glance at the greasy, peeling paint changed her mind. She wanted to yell at Corky to hurry up; she could stand the suspense no longer.
Finally, the door opened a crack, and Tyne saw an unshaven face with bloodshot eyes below rumpled graying hair. Corky Conrad had deteriorated even since she saw him in December. Holding tight to the door with one hand and the waist of his pants with the other, he glared at Arthur, then squinted hard at Tyne.
“Wha … Tyne? What’re ya doing here?”
Tyne started to answer but Arthur took her arm and propelled her through the door. “We’d like to come in if you don’t mind.”

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Fury of the Wind

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excerpt

…and Sarah did not complain. The old house had no insulation,
and the wind found its way in through walls that, in other seasons,
appeared sturdy enough. It was not unusual for them to awaken in
the morning with the flannelette sheet and blankets, where their
breath had dampened the material, frozen against their chins. Each
night Sarah moved the house plants – geraniums and begonias
that Ben said his mother had lovingly tended – to the centre of the
kitchen table where she covered them with a light cloth. She did the
same with the pitchers of milk and cream, carrying them from the
pantry to the kitchen where the cookstove would provide enough
warmth until the early morning hours to keep them from freezing.
The weeks passed slowly. No one came to the house, and Sarah
was unable to ride Flicka or drive the old pickup truck to the Mc-
Neill farm. She spent the days sewing new curtains and knitting
socks and mitts from the wool she had bought on her last trip to
Nimkus in late October. She wrote endless letters to Margaret and
Elizabeth in Ontario, and waited impatiently for the mail that Ben
brought home from his infrequent trips to town with the team and
sleigh.
For the most part they lived by their own resources on the provisions
they had in the house. But Sarah looked forward to the vegetable
garden she planned to plant in the spring. She had searched
out Mrs. Fielding’s canning jars so that she could preserve everything
she could get her hands on through the summer months.
These plans and activities helped to pass the long days and the
even longer evenings. But she missed the companionship of others,
especially Penny. What would she give to be able to sit down to a
cup of tea in Penny’s cheerful kitchen? And how she longed to see
little David who, when she had last seen him, was beginning to take
a few faltering steps around the furniture. By now he would be running
all over the house.
She thought of David when she read Margaret’s latest letter. It
was four pages of the delights of motherhood, along with every
detail of her new daughter’s first two months of life. As she read,
Sarah felt a familiar ache deep inside her where she had been sure
that, by now, new life would be growing. Why wasn’t it? Could there
be something wrong with her? Ben never spoke of a family and,
although she had once casually mentioned that he needed a son to…

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Still Waters

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excerpt

…made and she could not take a chance on hurting them by refusing
their generous offer. It was kind of them to even think of an engagement
gift, but she wished they had decided on something less ostentatious.
Oh well, maybe if it was a small, inexpensive car she wouldn’t
feel so bad about accepting it.
She had not told her parents. She did not want them to feel they had
to give the newly engaged couple a gift. Such a thing had never entered
her mind, and she hoped Cam did not expect it either. And anyway,
her parents certainly could not afford anything as lavish as a car.
Maybe I’m out of my league, Tyne thought. We’re just simple
country people. I shouldn’t be marrying someone like Cam.
This new revelation made her uneasy, taking the edge off the excitement
she felt about returning to the city. She turned to look out
the window onto the bleak winter landscape, but a little girl in the
seat beside her suddenly caught her attention and offered a welcome
diversion for her thoughts. The blond-haired child held up a story
book and asked her a word.
“That says hospital,” Tyne replied, smiling into the innocent face.
Noting the pictures in the book, she asked, “Is your story about a nurse?”
The child beamed. “Yeth. When I grow up, I’m going to be a nurth.”
“Are you? That’s lovely. I’m a nurse, and I work in a hospital like
that one in your picture book.”
The little face turned up, the blue eyes wide and incredulous. “Oh
… oh, you’re a nurth … oh.”
Tyne laughed softly, and could not resist the urge to put her arm
around the little one and hug her. Looking up, she saw the warm
smile of a young woman sitting across from them.
“You’ve made her day, thank you,” the woman said, smiling.
“Are you her mother? Oh then, I’ll trade places with you so that
you can sit with her.”
“No, no,” the mother waved her hand. “She wouldn’t thank me for
that.”
Tyne laughed and turned back to the admiring child. Someday,
would she and Cam have a little girl like this dear one? A girl who
wanted, more than anything, to be a nurth?

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Prairie Roots

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excerpt

…farmer’s crops in preparation for a lean winter. We would spot
coyotes loping across fields or chasing down field mice. The magpies
became even noisier and the crows would start bunching as
they began their preparations for the long flight south.
But most impressive was the sight of waterfowl as they flew
overhead, the geese in their perfect formations, noisily announcing
their over-flights, and the ducks, less organized but in even
greater numbers than the geese. They came by the thousands, and
when low, we clearly heard the flutter of their wings.
School classes lasted forever and it was difficult to get serious
about homework when there was serious activity waiting for us
outdoors. We would hurry home to see if threshing had started
and to head out to the threshing site and watch the activity. After
the harvest, the days quickly shortened and the fall season intensified,
with the cold rains of mid-autumn inexorably turning into
the snows that would blanket the earth for the next six months.
The first morning after a major snowfall was an exciting time,
with new winter clothes donned and new pathways made to
school. We would be careful about these first paths, taking
shortcuts but also keeping to areas sheltered from cold north
winds. These paths were followed all winter and we would walk
single file, occasionally backwards if strong head winds were
blowing. The school was directly east of our home and we often
walked facing a rising sun which, pleasant as it was, had no
warmth radiating from it and frequently had a pair of sundogs,
the harbinger of even colder and stormier weather to come. We
noted all such phenomena and asked our parents about them after
school.
After major storms the winds cleared the softer snow away,
leaving the packed snow of the paths exposed and raised in the
open fields and pastures. Elsewhere, through woodlots, the new
snows covered the paths and we made new trails to follow. After
major storms the banks of hard packed snow at the edges of
woodlots, where the wind swirled and piled the snow, would
tempt us to climb and explore before moving on towards school.

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Wellspring of Love

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excerpt

Jeff straightened up and took a deep breath. “Maybe you’d better
go in now,” he said hoarsely. “She was asking for you earlier. She’s in
room one.”
Tyne patted his hand and got to her feet. “I’ll let you know what
Dr. Dunston says, Dad.”
A brief nod was the only sign that he heard her. She turned away
and headed for the corridor leading to the two private rooms in the
building. She was not surprised her aunt had been put into a private
ward; after all, no one deserved it more. Millie Harper had been a
tireless advocate and worker for the hospital since before it had been
on the drawing board. Tyne remembered her own brief stint on her
aunt’s committee during the building year. She had come home from
Calgary to nurse her dad back to health following his stroke, and
Millie had recruited her for the Building & Furnishing committee.
Since then Millie had been a fixture on the board of the Emblem
hospital, at times serving under Morley’s chairmanship.
Tyne stopped before the door which bore the room number and a
plaque with the name of the donor who had furnished it. She could
hear low voices which stopped when she tapped lightly. The door
opened to reveal her mother, an anxious look on her pale face.
“Oh, Tyne, come in. Dr. Dunston is here.” She stood aside to let
Tyne enter.
Grant Dunston raised his head. “Hello, Tyne.” Then he turned
his attention back to Millie Harper who lay quietly in the bed, her
eyes closed.
Tyne was conscious of two disturbing thoughts, the first that Dr.
Dunston had seldom greeted her in any other way than with his usual
cheery, “Hi, sis.” Her second thought was that the woman in the bed,
frail and ashen-faced, was hardly recognizable as her beloved aunt.
Her heart in her throat, Tyne made her way to the bedside and
gently took hold of the cool hand that lay motionless on top of the
covers. Millie opened her eyes and a flicker of a smile made her lips
twitch.

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763327

Fury of the Wind

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excerpt

usual from the heat and being on them all day, were propped on an
ottoman.
“I really am vexed with you, Will.”
“Oh?” Will did not look up from the prize list in his hand.
“Yes, you certainly were not using your head when you put that
Fielding woman to work in the same booth as Jean McKinnon.”
Will leaned over and switched on the lamp beside his chair.
“Damn it, Molly, I’m not in the mood to argue.”
“I don’t intend to argue,” Molly said in a tone Will recognized as
being sarcastically sweet, “because you must have realized by now
that you were in the wrong.”
Will looked at her over the top of his eyeglasses. “If giving the girl
a chance to get to know the town women was wrong, then I plead
guilty. As a matter of fact, now that you’ve mentioned Sarah, I’ll tell
you I’ve been thinking of asking her to join the Agricultural Association.”
His eyes twinkled mischievously. “With her background
she’ll make a great secretary.”
Molly’s mouth fell open then clamped shut with a click of her
dentures. “Will Andrews,” she gasped, “you wouldn’t dare.”
“Why wouldn’t I?’
“You know perfectly well why. Not one of the town women would
ever have anything to do with the Association again, and you know it.”
“Then it would be their loss, not mine.” He felt his bile rising.
“Anyway, none of you even know Sarah. What’ve you got against
her except that she married Ben Fielding?”
“Well, that’s it, isn’t it? She married Ben Fielding, and only a
coarse woman or a slut would have considered doing that.”
“Then,” said Will mildly, “there must have been sluts in Nimkus
long before Sarah arrived.”
Molly sprang to her feet, her lower lip trembling. Turning her
back to him she strode, with all the dignity she possessed, to the
bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Will watched her over
the top of his gold rims.
Oh drat, why wouldn’t she talk about it, even after all these years?
“Oh, you’re an old fool, Andrews,” he muttered under his breath.
He should know by now that needling her never got him anywhere.
He sighed and looked down at his papers.

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Water in the Wilderness

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excerpt

Rachael didn’t answer. Maybe if she kept quiet Mrs. Milligan would keep quiet, too. Didn’t the woman know she didn’t want to talk?
“Rachael? Did you hear me, honey?”
It was too much. She turned an angry face up to Auntie Tyne’s mother and shouted, “I don’t want a candy bar, an’ I don’t want to walk with you. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
Turning abruptly, she took off at a run, slipping and sliding on the snowy sidewalk as she ran back to the house.
She had seen the hurt, shocked look on Mrs. Milligan’s face but she didn’t care. She didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her. She didn’t want anyone to be nice to her, because she didn’t deserve it. What she should do is go back to Harrison’s and take her beatings, and work herself to death for Aunt Ruby. Why should anyone care about her, anyway? She wasn’t worth it. She never deserved a Shirley Temple doll in the first place, so what did it matter if Lyssa had gouged its eyes out? Lyssa should have got the doll – or Lark should have. They were both better girls than she was. They didn’t drag their young brother around in a blizzard. In fact, they didn’t do any of the bad things she had done.
Reaching the back door of the house, Rachael looked around. Mrs. Milligan was coming behind her, walking so fast that she was sliding on the path, almost losing her footing. Rachael hurried to get inside. Without removing her heavy coat and boots, she ran to her bedroom, slammed the door behind her, and fell face down on the bed.

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Fury of the Wind

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excerpt

“She’d better not be Alan’s girlfriend,” said a raunchy male voice,
“because she’s Ben Fielding’s broad.” The speaker began to laugh
again but his mirth was cut short by an arm that reached out and
thrust him roughly aside.
“Here, what do you think you’re doing?” the speaker demanded,
glaring down at the short man with the furrowed forehead elbowing
his way, none too gently, through the crowd.
“Mind your tongue, Gus, and your own business,” Will snarled
through clenched teeth, “and everybody get the blazes out of my
way, or I’ll call the Constable over.”
The gawkers quieted and moved aside, their mouths agape. Some
of them raised their eyebrows and looked at each other as if to say,
What’s eating the station agent?
Will felt both relief and alarm when he saw Sarah – relief because
she was sitting up and did not appear to be badly hurt, but alarm
because of her obvious distress. All concerns about the Agricultural
Association’s involvement were forgotten, Sarah’s welfare uppermost
in his mind.
On reaching her side he took her hand. “I don’t think there’s a
doctor here, Sarah, but I’ll get you to the Bradshaw hospital right
away.” He thrust his clip board at Charlie Draper. “Here, Charlie,
find Arnold Johnson will you, and tell him he’ll have to take
over. And tell him he’d better damn well do something about these
bleachers or I’ll know the reason why not.”
Alan put a hand on Will’s arm. “No need for you to leave, Will,
I’ll take Sarah in Dave’s car.”
Will hesitated while he considered Alan’s offer. “Well, all right
then,” he said at last. “But you’d better go and find Penny and take
her with you.”
Sarah looked up at Will with eyes full of gratitude. Not only had
he ensured there would be no cause for gossip, but he was getting
her out of this crowd who seemed to be enjoying the spectacle of
Ben Fielding’s wife’s misfortune more than they were enjoying the
ball game.
“Just wait ’til Ben gets her home,” said a woman in the stands,
“he’ll kill her.”
“More likely he’ll kill Will Andrews for not seeing to the bleachers
afore they got in this condition,” a man answered her.

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