Godfrey: Book Four

  “Hi, Noah,” Henri answered, before turning his attention back to Godfrey and Isaac.

  “Running errands?” Isaac asked.

  Henri shook his head. “No. Bit of a favour to ask of you, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  Isaac looked concerned.

  “Yeah...Albert’s wife took ill and he’s got the kids and a bunch of work piling up. Weeds starting to overrun his fields. Can’t afford to have a bad crop. Can’t afford to hire anyone. Diana and I are headed out there on Saturday to lend a hand and I’m wondering if you could keep an eye on the farm while we’re away.”

  Isaac nodded. “Of course.”

  “And...there’s one more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Antoinette isn’t sure she wants to stay at the house by herself...it’s still so new to her...we’d bring her if we could, but it’s a full car already...so Diana suggested she spend the two nights with you and Antonia.”

  Until now, Godfrey had been content to mind his own business and let the two men speak on their own. But upon hearing Antoinette’s name, his ears perked up and he had to force himself to contain his excitement. Surely if she were to spend the weekend at Isaac and Antonia’s he’d get to spend some time with her. Perhaps when they went over for Sunday brunch? Heck, he’d probably get to sit beside her at Mass. That would make Mass more interesting!

  “I don’t see why that should be a problem,” said Isaac mildly. “I’ll talk to Antonia about it tonight.”

  “Diana’s actually talking to her right now,” said Henri, grinning. “They’re next door at Thomson’s Grocers.”

  Isaac nodded like a professor. “Ah.”

  “That’s how I knew where to find you.”

  “I see.”

  “Hey, Henri! Time for another hair cut?” Noah called without pausing from his work, his scissors in constant motion and the steady snip snip sound they made filling the small barbershop.

  Henri grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Not quite.”

  “Ahhhhh, that’s what all you farmers say. And then it’s a year before I see you and there’s a lion’s mane to cut off!”

  Henri raised his hands in mock surrender and Noah waved the scissors in his direction.

  “Come back tomorrow and I’ll get ya in. I’m just about to shove off after these two animals are done,” the barber continued, gesturing toward the two Leduc brothers.

  “Can’t do it. Got to head out to Fabyan tomorrow to pick up a new foal.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. Little curly horse.”

  Noah looked at him with an expression of amused disbelief. “A curly horse? You pullin’ my leg again, Henri?”

  Godfrey watched the barber closely. He always liked to watch the town dwellers bumble their way through pretending to know what farm life was about. Half of them couldn’t tell you the difference between a Holstein and an Angus.

  But to his dismay, Henri’s face was serious. “No. A curly horse. You never heard of ‘em?”

  “Course I heard of ‘em...just never heard of them bein’ in these parts.”

  Henri and the Leduc brothers exchanged a look.

  “Well, they are in these parts and I’m picking one up tomorrow,” said Henri, turning to face the barber.

  He nodded and returned to cutting the old man’s hair without a word more. The three farmers exchanged another look and a smile.

  “So can you two put Antoinette up for a couple nights?” asked Henri once the humour had evaporated.

  Isaac shook the newspaper he was holding so as to straighten the pages. “Of course.”

  “Great. We’ll bring her by Saturday. Hopefully by noon.”

  Godfrey made a mental note to be at Isaac’s and Antonia’s as early as he could on Saturday.

  Isaac nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Great,” said Henri, looking relieved. “And you’ll check on the farm too?”

  “Yep,” Isaac answered. “Still have to see that new barn, now that it’s painted and all.”

  “Yeah, it looks good. Thanks to you, fellas,” he added, widening his gaze to include Godfrey.

  “Anytime,” said Isaac. “I’ll have a couple projects this Fall I’ll be needing help with.”

  “And you just go right ahead and call on me,” said Henri smartly, replacing his hat on his head and reaching for the door handle. “You came to my worker bee, after all.”

  Isaac smiled. “Damn right - and those were some long days!”

  Henri looked surprised. “Don’t look at me! Your brother was the slave driver! This barn’s gonna take a week to get up at this rate,” he continued, changing his voice to match Leo’s. “What do you think we’re doing here? Havin’ a tea party?”

  Isaac grinned. “That’s our Leo.”

  “Yep.”

  The conversation died then. Henri rested his hands on his hips and looked around, the steady snip snip of Noah Telford’s scissors filling the silence.

  “Right then,” said Isaac after a minute. “We’ll see you Saturday.”

  Henri nodded. “Yes. And thanks again.”

  Isaac raised a hand. “Not a problem. Anytime.”

  “Great. Well, we’ll see you then. Noah,” Henri said, tipping his hat.

  “You’re off then, Henri?” Noah called after him, as though he hadn’t been listening to their conversation.

  Henri pushed the door open and the bells tinkled.

  “Yep. See ya when I see ya. I should be due for a cut in another month or so. We’ll see what the wife says,” he added with a wink.

  Noah gave the obligatory laugh. “Alright. Sounds good.”

  “See you around, gentlemen.”

  “See ya, Henri.”

  And while Isaac settled once more into his chair and resumed reading the newspaper, Godfrey couldn’t help but feel euphoric. An entire weekend with Antoinette!

  Chapter Six

  The following Saturday morning. Isaac, Antonia, and Godfrey Leduc are standing outside Isaac’s and Antonia’s house as Diana Lapalme say goodbye to Antoinette.

  “And we’ll be back on Sunday evening to collect you,” said Diana as the two women finished unloading the last of Antoinette’s things from their motorcar.

  “Oh yes, don’t worry,” was Antoinette’s reply. “I’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll have a great time,” said Antonia, taking a step closer and putting an arm around Antoinette’s slender shoulders.

  Diana nodded, smiling as Henri beeped the horn, impatient to be off. “I’m sure you will. Anyhow, we must be off if we’re to make it to Vegreville before dark.”

  “Oh, you’ll make it with time to spare,” said Isaac pointedly, standing back a ways and gripping his suspenders. “Especially with Mister Heavy Foot there,” he added with a smile, flicking his head toward Henri who was seated in the driver’s seat.

  Diana made a face and touched a hand to her heart. “Don’t I know it! That man is going to be the death of me, I tell you.”

  Antonia smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you’ll make it safe and sound and in good time too.”

  Diana looked doubtful. “We’ll see.”

  “Come on inside, Antoinette,” said Antonia, clearly eager for the show to move along. She took Antoinette by the hand. “I’ll show you to the guest bedroom and we can get you settled.”

  “That would be great, thanks,” said Antoinette politely, glancing at Godfrey as Antonia led her away.

  “You keep an eye on her now,” said Diana semi-sternly, glancing at the two Leduc brothers as she picked up the hem of her skirt and climbed into the car.

  “We will,” said Isaac.

  Diana slammed her car door shut and waved as Henri hit the accelerator. The vehicle lurched forward and Godfrey watched the dirt spit out from under the tires as the Lapalme’s motored down the driveway. He smiled then as Isaac turned and slowly made his way inside, the sounds of the women’s voices carrying through the open door. The
high noon sun beat down on his face and what with the scent of the prairie wind and the sound of rustling wheat fields in his ears, Godfrey couldn’t help but smile. Life was good.

  Later that evening, after they’ve all eaten dinner. Godfrey and Antoinette are seated together on the porch bench. It’s dusk and the sky is a stunning canvas of pink.

  “Joseph Lapalme.”

  “That was your father’s name?” Godfrey asked, curious.

  Antoinette nodded. “And he passed away in November.”

  Godfrey’s expression was sympathetic.

  “That’s why you came out here then?”

  She nodded.

  “Was he quite old?”

  Antoinette looked at him. “Eighty five.”

  “That’s a good life.”

  “And my mother,” she continued, acknowledging his comment with a tiny nod, “Euphemie Sinotte Loiselle, left my father when I was young and went to stay with relations in New Hampshire.”

  “So you never really knew her then. Growing up.”

  She nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Why did she leave?” asked Godfrey, his tone sensitive as the subject seemed to be a difficult one for her.

  She looked at him. “My father wasn’t a nice man.”

  Godfrey bit his tongue. He wanted to ask what exactly it was about her father that made him ‘not a nice man’, but if she wasn’t going to offer up that information, he wasn’t going to ask. It wasn’t polite.

  “And do you have any siblings other than Albert and Henri?”

  Antoinette smiled. “Oh yes...probably eighteen in all if you count my half siblings.”

  Godfrey looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “The half siblings are the ones from my father’s first marriage,” she explained, giggling.

  Godfrey smiled. “I see. I was about to say, your poor mother.”

  “I have seven first siblings. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, not half siblings. But why...had?”

  Antoinette’s expression changed. “Because I only have six now.”

  “Oh? Did something happen?”

  Antoinette nodded and looked away, her eyes settling upon the horizon, the setting sun throwing a glow across her face. “My sister died when she was nineteen.”

  “Oh no. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded, her doe eyes drooping. “It’s alright.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Godfrey again, chastising himself for his blunder.

  You just had to go and remind her about her dead sister!

  Antoinette held her voice and swallowed as tears moistened her eyes. “It’s alright...I’m mostly over it.”

  “Really?”

  You idiot!

  This time, when she moved her head, it was to nod. “Yes, really. It was almost ten years ago already.”

  “Still...” said Godfrey quietly, his voice trailing. “Were you two close?”

  She nodded. “Yes. We were only two years apart. She was born in ninety seven and me in ninety nine.”

  Godfrey gaped at her - though his face wore a smile. “Ninety nine? You’re a year older than me then.”

  “You were born in nineteen hundred?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, I suppose I am a year older then,” she said, looking pleased.

  Godfrey threw her a sidelong glance, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “But that doesn’t mean you’re smarter.”

  “Oh?” she asked haughtily. “Why not? What grade did you go up to?”

  Despite her tone, Godfrey could tell by the look in her eyes that she was only pressing him for a lark.

  “Eighth grade,” he answered with an air of nonchalance, looking away and brushing a stray grain of wild grass from the sleeve of his jacket for added effect.

  He knew full well she’d not expected to hear he’d finished school.

  “Well...”

  Her voice stalled and he smiled as he returned his gaze to her.

  “But I’ll bet you remember more than I do,” said Godfrey.

  She looked at him and returned his smile. “Let’s just pretend I do...even if I don’t! I need to be good at something!”

  “What do you mean you need to be good at something? You’re good at loads of stuff, I’m sure!”

  She balked at him. “Like what?”

  “Well,” Godfrey started, thinking quickly now as he knew he didn’t have much time to come up with an answer, “...you’re good at cooking - for one.”

  “Ha! Mashed potatoes and peas. That’s all I do.”

  “No tourtière?”

  “Never as good as Diana’s,” she pouted.

  Godfrey grimaced as though he didn’t like her answer. “I’m sure your cooking is as good as hers. Diana won’t let anyone do more than her in her kitchen and so you’re probably always playing second fiddle. So you feel like she does a better job...but really you probably make just as good a tourtière as she.”

  They laughed then - Godfrey at the absurdity of his rambling and she about the silliness of the entire subject - and not long after, hearing Diana calling them for coffee and dessert, headed inside.

  At Mass the following morning.

  “And so, as God said to Abraham...”

  Godfrey could hardly listen to ten words of Father McGrane’s sermon this week. But, unlike last week, it wasn’t because he was bored. Rather, he was distracted. For beside him, right beside him, seated so close beside him that he could smell her perfume, sat the most beautiful, incredible girl he’d ever laid eyes on.

  The young man cast his eyes toward Antoinette. She smiled. He smiled. And Blessed Sacrament Church, and the pews, and all the people sitting in those pews, melted away. It was just the two of them in that split second - and in every second when they shared a private smile.

  He had to be careful though. People were bound to start noticing - indeed he’d already caught a few stares an hour earlier when he’d ushered her into the pew ahead of him. Mrs. Traynor gave him a knowing look - that look middle-aged women give a young man when they see him courting a young lady, her eyes saying, “you be good to her.” Earlier, outside, as they’d followed Isaac and Antonia into the church, Mrs. Caron’s look had been much the same. But none of the looks he’d yet received compared to the one Antonia had given him that morning as he’d poured a glass of juice for Antoinette at breakfast. The look she’d given him was more, “I know what you’re up to and I’m not sure I like it.”

  Recalling the look he’d received from her earlier, Godfrey stole a glance at her from out the corner of his eye. She seemed to be doing the same, one eye on them and the other on her Bible, pretending to read but her attention clearly focused on he and Antoinette. She was surely planning to speak to Henri about them. And soon too because Antonia wasn’t one to let such things remain quiet. Henri, presumably, wouldn’t be happy about it. He hoped he wouldn’t be angry. Henri was a good guy and not a scrapper like Claude Caron or Francois Delorme - but he wouldn’t hesitate to give him a thorough beating if he thought he was messing around with his baby sister.

  He wasn’t messing around with her.

  He glanced at her.

  He loved her. He loved everything about her. Her smile. Her warmth. Her laugh.

  Did he want to marry her?

  He looked at her, more obviously this time, and she turned and smiled, her dimples adding to the effect.

  Yes. He did want to marry her. And so long as his intentions with Antoinette were honourable, Henri shouldn’t have a problem with the two of them spending time together. Or so he hoped. With Antonia’s big mouth, he’d surely find out soon enough.

  Sunday evening. They’re all at Isaac and Antonia’s for supper. Henri and Diana arrived back in town a few hours earlier and Antonia invited them in for supper. Godfrey’s been nervous all night, making sure to not appear to cozy with Antoinette. Once the dishes have been cleared away, out come the cards and it’s time for a game of barouche*, guys versus gals. They??
?re seated around the dining room table. There’s a single light on. Coffee and tea and a plate of cookies and squares sit on a small side table.

  “What’s trump then?” Leo growled.

  “Hearts,” Antonia answered matter-of-factly.

  Leo grunted and pulled his cards closer to his chin. “And what are we leading with?”

  “Clubs,” Antonia chimed happily, guessing her brother-in-law had very few. She lay a queen of clubs on the table. “Godfrey, you’re next.”

  “Oh...er...right...sorry,” Godfrey spluttered, prying his eyes from Antoinette who was seated across the table.

  She smiled at him and he felt his face grow hot as Henri looked in his direction.

  “There,” he said, hurrying to pluck a card from the fan of cards in his hand.

  “That’s a diamond,” Antonia said impatiently as he placed it on the table.

  “Whoops.”

  Hastily withdrawing the card, Godfrey swapped it for a three of clubs.

  Leo grunted and tossed down a jack.

  “Give us something good, Dee,” said Antonia.

  Diana smiled and set down a ten of hearts.

  “Good stuff.”

  “What’d you three wager again?” asked Henri, laying down a four of clubs.

  “Ninety,” Antonia answered pointedly.

  “That’s a steep hill to climb,” Henri countered, looking at the three other men on his team.

  “Yes,” said Leo. “And they’re not going to make it.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Antoinette who’d only been shown the game a month ago.

  She set down an ace of hearts.

  “Yes! Good job ladies!” Antonia squealed.

  Isaac threw down a seven of clubs and Antonia gathered all the cards together before passing them off to Antoinette.

  “That’s your hand, girlie.”

  Antoinette smiled, and passed her smile to Godfrey. He caught it and returned it. And it was that moment all over again. Where it was just the two of them and nothing and no one else.

  “Godfrey!”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  He’d lost himself again.

  “Tabernouche my man, your head’s been in the clouds something awful lately,” said Isaac. “We’re going with spades.”

  “Sorry,” he replied meekly, glancing at Henri.

  Henri’s look was scrutinizing. Had Antonia spoken to him yet?

  He scanned his cards and removed a six of spades. Godfrey’s card was followed by a ten of spades from Leo. Next was Isaac, and not having any clubs, he slapped down a three of hearts.