Vital Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

should, but he dared not.
    â€œWinn an’ Thomas had to keep what grain they took off last fall to feed the oxen, the three cows, and our pigs.”
    â€œErastus told me about their troubles.”
    â€œThey haven’t had it worse than any others in the township.” Marc caught the edge in her voice, but when he glanced over, she was staring resolutely ahead.
    â€œRastus also told me how well you’ve nursed Aaron through his illness.”
    The low morning sun blazed through the fringe of Beth’shair below the tuque and transformed it into a russet halo. It took all of Marc’s willpower to resist pulling the tuque away.
    â€œI’d have even prayed to the Anglican God if I’d thought He could help,” Beth said.
    â€œAh, but you know perfectly well He’s always been a Congregationalist.”
    Beth laughed, and for the first time glanced sideways at Marc. The force of her gaze, the infinite blue intelligence of her eyes, struck him like a blow. He felt numb and then, strangely, invigorated. His blood hummed.
    â€œWhichever gods intervened,” Beth said, guiding him briefly around a submerged stump, “Aaron’s made a wonderful recovery. In a minute you’ll hear him chopping wood out behind the summer kitchen.”
    â€œChopping wood? But—”
    â€œOh, I see that he naps every afternoon. But I figured he needed to get outdoors as soon as he could. He lives for the animals and his chores around the barn.”
    â€œAnd he’ll be needed more than ever now that Thomas has a battered hand.”
    â€œSeems we just get through one trial when a new one comes on.”
    â€œWho’ll help with the spring ploughing and planting?” Marc said, trying his best to make the question sound disinterested.
    Beth slowed her pace, for which Marc was grateful, as it suggested she was not overeager to arrive at the cabin. In thedistance he could now hear the staccato chunk of an axe on wood.
    â€œWell, Winn won’t take money, from me or her father, so it’ll have to be mainly me and Aaron and Winn. Winn and me have done some sewing this winter, so we’ll have a few goods to trade for a bit of hired help. And we can work the ox-team together if we have to.”
    Of that Marc had little doubt, even though, under the bulky mackintosh and cloth trousers, Beth was tiny and trim and not much more than a hundred pounds.
    â€œBut that means you might be stuck down here until June or later?”
    â€œIt’s not a matter of choice. We often get ‘stuck’ where we ought most to be.”
    Marc winced at the reproof. And he realized with a sinking heart just how difficult and possibly hopeless a task lay before him. How could he plead a lover’s cause in the face of such competing exigencies, of such overriding moral claims? There seemed for him, equally, to be no choice: he, too, was where he “ought most to be.” So he plunged recklessly ahead: “But surely your aunt Catherine will be needing you at the shop? Spring and summer are your busiest seasons.”
    â€œI hadn’t realized you were so well acquainted with the millinery business.”
    Ah, that teasing tone again, but he persevered. “Your aunt did pull up stakes in New England, as I recall, to join you in Toronto. Surely you can’t—”
    â€œYour ‘recall’ is as keen as it’s always been. But I can do without your ‘surelys.’”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œNo, you’re not. But it doesn’t matter because I’ve taken care of Aunt Catherine and the business.”
    â€œYou haven’t sold it?”
    Beth laughed for a second time. “No, we haven’t. When I left in January to come here to nurse Aaron, we hired a young girl from the town to help Aunt Catherine with the seamstressing side of the business. And next month a distant cousin from her husband’s side of the family is coming