A Forever Kind of Love

  A Forever

  Kind of Love

  by

  Mona Ingram

  Cover design

  Elizabeth Mackey Graphic Design

  ©2011 Mona Ingram

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Prologue

  SASKATCHEWAN, SEPTEMBER 1938

  Charlotte closed the lid of the trunk, barely aware of the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the window of the attic.

  Eloping! The thought took her breath away. There were times she didn’t believe it; didn’t believe that within a few days she’d be far away from here, in the arms of Harm, the man she’d fallen in love with.

  She closed her eyes and conjured up his face. The face she’d come to love over the summer months.

  They’d met at the dance hall in town. It was his first visit; hers too... and when their eyes met, the attraction had been instant. The thought of something as corny as falling in love across a dance floor made her laugh now, but that was precisely how it had started. That first night, the fluttering in her chest was an unfamiliar sensation, but it became one she welcomed in the weeks that followed. They’d met every chance they could get, which wasn’t nearly enough for either of them. The desire to be together was so strong she’d been having trouble sleeping at night. She ached for him; longed to be held by him, kissed by him, loved by him.

  She hated the fact that he’d gone away this weekend. Every time she thought about what he was doing, fingers of unease crept down her spine. He’d gone to compete in a rodeo in a neighbouring town. She hadn’t wanted him to go, but he’d convinced her that they could use the few extra dollars he would earn. Still, she’d been on edge since he left.

  She hadn’t dared to tell anyone of their plans. Besides, who could she tell? Her only close friend had moved away a few years ago and was living on the outskirts of Regina with her new husband. She ran her fingers over the spines of the books on the makeshift bookshelf. Growing up, this attic had been her refuge, her sanctuary. She supposed that her parents loved her, but they had never showed affection. Maybe they didn’t know how, but Charlotte was determined that when she and Harm had children, she’d tell them every day how special they were; how much she loved them.

  “Charlotte! Would you get down here!” Her mother’s voice cut into her reverie.

  “Coming, Mother.” She checked the attic quickly, making sure there was no sign of her imminent departure. Not that anyone else ever came up here, but she wasn’t taking any chances. There would be a full moon on the weekend, and that was when she and Harm planned to elope. Her parents were off to the Agricultural Fair in Regina this weekend and by the time they came home and found that she’d left, she and Harm would be far away, starting their new life together.

  Charlotte stopped at the bottom of the narrow attic stairway and smoothed the skirts of her dress. No sense drawing attention to the fact that she’d been in the attic.

  “Really, Charlotte. You know you promised to get the potatoes ready.” Several neighbours were helping her father with the harvest today, and she and her mother were providing the evening meal. She filled the big pot with water and hauled it over to the stove. She had plenty of time to peel and cook the potatoes before supper. Her mother always got a bit nervous when it was her turn to feed the men.

  She peeled the potatoes with quick, efficient movements, put them in the pot and covered it with the lid. She hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation between her mother and the other women, but as she started to clear the table, a sudden change in their tone caught her attention.

  “Yes, it was a terrible accident. Killed instantly, he was.” Ruby Bowker pursed her lips. “Frank said it was a blessing that he didn’t suffer.”

  Charlotte stared at her. “Who?” she asked, her voice barely audible. She clutched a small flowered teapot in both hands.

  “That nice young ranch hand who was working the Cavanaugh spread. Harm something. He was thrown from a horse at a rodeo yesterday and broke his neck.”

  Charlotte’s vision started to blur and her hands began to shake. The teapot lid fell to the floor and shattered, but she scarcely noticed. “Harm? Are you sure?”

  “Why yes.” Ruby gave her a curious look. “Did you know him?”

  Charlotte looked around wildly. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, and ran from the room.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Ruby looked at Charlotte’s mother.

  “I don’t know.” Jean Freeman’s eyes narrowed as she looked after her daughter. “She’s been acting odd recently.”

  STILL CLUTCHING THE teapot, Charlotte ran up the stairs to the attic and flung herself into the chair at the end of the room. She couldn’t catch her breath, and it had nothing to do with racing up the stairs. She set down the teapot and tugged on the chain she wore around her neck, pulling it out from beneath her dress. A gold ring hung on the chain and she raised it to her mouth, running the smooth metal back and forth across her lips.

  “No!” she moaned aloud. “No.”

  But she knew it was true. She’d known it the moment Mrs. Bowker opened her mouth. She lowered her head and wept.

  Chapter One

  PRESENT DAY

  Charlie looked around her condo, checking one last time. She’d agreed to sublet the condo and her car while she went to Saskatchewan to help her aunt. An aunt she scarcely knew.

  She paused at the sliding glass doors leading onto the small deck and took a moment to gaze past the city of Calgary to the foothills beyond. She was surprised that she didn’t feel more emotion. Had it really been only a few months ago that she and Carson had stood here planning their future together? She gave her head a quick, decisive shake and forced her thoughts back to the present. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. Next thing you know, she’d be re-visiting the ongoing discussion–okay, argument–she’d been having with Allie ever since she told her of her plans to leave.

  “You’re running away!” her best friend had insisted.

  “No, I’m not.”

  Allie’s chin jutted out and Charlie recognized the signs. Her friend simply didn’t know how to back off when she decided she was in the right. “He’s not worth it, Chuck. He’s a tight-ass lawyer and you’re much better off without him, but there’s no need to run away.”

  Charlie clenched her teeth. “Sometimes you can be a real pain, you know that? It’s a good thing we’ve been friends for so long.”

  “Okay, okay.” Allie’s tone softened. “It’s just that I’m going to miss you, ya know? I wish you’d taken a bit longer before you decided to sub-let.”

  “Sure you do, because you would have done your best to talk me out of it.”

  “That’s true. It all happened so fast...” Allie’s voice trailed off.

  It had indeed happened quickly. Charlie’s thoughts drifted back in time.

  CHARLIE HAD TAKEN A deep, calming breath when she saw her mother’s name on call display. It was the second call in as many days. She picked up. “Hi, Mom
.”

  “Do you remember your Aunt Janelle?” As usual, her mother didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

  “Uh... not really.” Charlie vaguely recalled visiting her aunt in Saskatchewan, but that had been many years ago. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine. “Why do you ask?”

  “She’s a widow, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  “Her husband died about four years ago. Lung cancer. But then he was a smoker, what do you expect?” Disapproval hissed through the air.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Charlie trolled through her mind for what she knew of her aunt. All she could come up with was that Janelle was younger than her mother, and that the sisters had never been close. Other than those slim facts, she knew nothing about her aunt.

  “How is she?”

  “Well, that’s what I’m calling about. I called her this morning to wish her Happy Birthday and she’s had an accident. Broke several bones in her foot.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It’s not funny, Charlotte.”

  “I wasn’t being funny...”

  Her mother cut her off. “Anyway, she’s having a hard time and I thought of you. Lord knows why she’s kept that farm, but there’s a lot of physical work involved and now that she’s laid up she just can’t manage on her own.”

  “You thought of me?” Where was this going?

  “Yes. I was thinking about what you said yesterday, when you told me that you’d broken off your engagement to that nice boy. You said that what you’d really like is to get away from Calgary for a while.”

  She should have known better than to confide in her mother, but the call had come when she was feeling low, and she’d spilled her guts. And then there was that small, discreet notice on the tenants’ bulletin board in the lobby, looking for a rental.

  “I know. I did say that but...”

  “I just thought I’d mention it, that’s all.” What was this? Reverse psychology? Her mother usually hammered home a point with all the finesse of a construction worker.

  The ploy, if that’s what it was, had worked. Within a few days, she’d sub-let her condo, packed away her personal possessions, and was about to hand over the keys.

  The decision had been easy once she’d spoken to her aunt, who had insisted that she call her Janelle.

  “None of this ‘aunt’ business,” she’d said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

  Charlie had been intrigued. This woman sounded nothing like her mom. She’d laughed more times in the ten minute conversation than her mother had done all last year.

  “I have to tell you something, though.” Janelle’s voice had lowered as though imparting a secret. “I can manage quite well on my own. I don’t know where your mother got the idea I need help, but I’m delighted you’ve decided to come.”

  Charlie’s stomach fell and she was surprised at the depth of her disappointment. “Would you rather I don’t come?”

  “Heavens, no. I’m thrilled, but I wanted to be up front with you. Your mother always was a drama queen about stuff like this. I suppose you could say we’re opposites in that respect.”

  Charlie bit her tongue. There’d be lots of time to discuss that later.

  “Okay,” said Janelle. “Let’s run over this one last time. You’re leaving your car behind as part of the rental, and you’re coming on the bus.”

  “Yes. I’ve sent some clothes ahead in a small trunk. I hope that’s okay.”

  “No problem. Okay, you know where to get off the bus, then.”

  “Yup.” Charlie checked her notes. “The corner of Old Clearwater Trail and Whiskey Jack Road. It sounds like something out of a book.” She paused. “A Western.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? I’d forgotten that you’re a writer. A heads up, though. There’s nothing there. It’s just an intersection in the middle of the prairie, but someone will be there to pick you up, okay?”

  “Okay. And Janelle?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not a nine year old anymore. I’m twenty six now. I think I can take care of myself if they’re late.”

  Her aunt laughed again. “Gotcha! See you in a couple of days.”

  “HOW FAR ARE YOU GOING?”

  Charlie jumped slightly, startled by the woman in the seat next to her. “I’m going to Clearwater Springs. That’s in Saskatchewan.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever been there.” The woman rummaged around in a voluminous purse and came out with a roll of Lifesavers. She picked off a bit of lint and popped one into her mouth. “Care for a Lifesaver?” she asked, shoving the roll under Charlie’s nose.

  “Ah...no thanks.”

  “How about you? Have you ever been there? Clearwater Springs?”

  “Once, but it was a long time ago.” Memories of a large farmhouse lingered in the corners of Charlie’s mind. She also thought she recalled chickens scratching in the back yard, but she wasn’t sure. Perhaps her imagination was working overtime.

  “That means you’ll be switching buses at Regina.” The woman looked at her watch. “Should be there in about an hour.”

  The change of buses was simple, and the next driver waved her into the front seat. “I’ll be glad to drop you off at Whiskey Jack Road,” he said, smiling at her from behind mirrored sunglasses. The bus pulled out a few minutes later and in no time at all was rolling along a narrow secondary road.

  Charlie relaxed and watched the scenery scroll past. She’d never quite understood why some people considered the prairies flat and uninteresting. Maybe it was her writer’s eye, but she saw it differently; saw gently rolling terrain as far as the eye could see. In some fields, the first crop of hay had already been cut and harvested. Placed randomly along the roadside, the huge rolls made ideal perches for hawks. Unblinking, the magnificent raptors watched the bus roll by, claws firmly anchored in the hay.

  “We’re coming up to your stop now,” said the driver over his shoulder. The air brakes squealed and he swung the door open. A blast of hot air hit her in the face as she jumped down, juggling her computer case and her tote bag.

  The driver scanned the intersection. “Are you going to be all right here?” His brow furrowed, but she could tell he was anxious to get going.

  She looked around, then gave him her most confident smile. “I’m fine. Someone is meeting me here. Thanks, though.”

  “All right then.” With a brisk nod he closed the door and after looking both ways he pulled through the intersection, leaving behind a cloud of exhaust.

  Blinking in the brilliance of the late afternoon sun Charlie turned slowly, looking anxiously in all directions. A small dust devil flirted with the edge of the road and then vanished. In the distance, the sound of the bus grew fainter and she clung to it as long as possible, until there was no denying that she was alone. She aimed a lethargic kick at a clump of weeds and set down her two bags.

  She took out her cell phone and looked at it. Nope. No missed calls, no texts, nothing.

  “What am I doing?” she said aloud, and snapped the phone closed. “Just because there’s nobody here waiting for me...” She stood up and stretched, taking in her surroundings. The stillness was unfamiliar, but surprisingly peaceful. Below her, on the far side of the road, the fields sloped away, revealing the distinctive patchwork of the prairies. Behind her the land rose and she couldn’t see much beyond the crops that edged the road.

  A low rumble broke the silence and Charlie turned in the direction of the sound. It wasn’t a car, and she didn’t think it was a truck either. It seemed to be coming toward her at a fairly fast clip from the high side of the road. A cloud of dust rose into the air, keeping pace with the sound and she realized that there must be some sort of an access road running through the middle of the field.

  The sound grew louder and she watched in amazement as an ATV burst out of the field, careening around the end of the planted area. It came to a stop just above her.

  The dust cloud had a life of its own. I
t billowed down, engulfing her and she waved a hand in front of her face. The growl of the motor stopped abruptly. She took a step backward as a tall figure jumped down. Impossibly white teeth gleamed in a tanned face and the man pushed back his hat, revealing eyes the colour of the brilliant blue chicory flowers growing along the edge of the road.

  “You must be Charlotte.” He grinned down at her.

  “And you’re late.” She regretted the sharpness of her words the moment she uttered them, but he looked so cocky standing here with his hands braced against his hips. To make things worse, he was wearing a Stetson. Not the kind the tourists wore during the Calgary stampede. No, this hat was the kind that ranch hands wore. The kind that made her weak in the knees.

  As she spoke the light went out of his eyes. “If I didn’t like your aunt, I wouldn’t be here at all.” Gone was the smile, the friendly, welcoming tone of voice. Too late she realized that he probably had better things to do. He slid down the incline to road level and pointed at her bags.

  “I’ll help you with those.” Her bags weren’t large, but they were heavy. He hoisted them as though they weighed nothing.

  She took a moment to study him. He was wearing a faded denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up and she couldn’t help but notice the muscles flexing just below the skin, and the way the hair on his arms shone golden in the lowering sun.

  She tore her eyes away. “You don’t expect me to ride on that, do you?” She glanced warily at the ATV.

  He bounded back up the incline and swung the bags onto the rack at the rear of the machine.

  “Not unless you want to go to Janelle’s.” He proceeded to strap down her bags then stood there, looking as though he was trying to make up his mind about something. Finally he stuck out his hand. “Come on, I’ll help you up. By the way, I’m Jason.”

  She ignored the outstretched hand. “I can manage thanks.” She headed up the small incline, but her sandals slipped on the dried soil and she lost her footing. She tried again, and this time she almost made it to level ground before sliding back.