"Well, that settles it then," said Antonia happily, " - this cheese is delicious by the way, Marie!"
"There's plenty more," Marie replied, gesturing toward the massive block missing only a small wedge.
"Thank you. I shall definitely have some more. It's excellent. Anyway, where was I?"
"We were discussing the possibility of each Ladies' association holding their own quilt sales from now one," said Diana.
"Right, yes," Antonia continued, pressing a hand on Diana's forearm, "I shall table the idea at our next meeting meeting. What do you say, ladies?"
Seated with Leo, Isaac, Henri, and Angélique's husband, Valérien Paré, Godfrey couldn't help but overhear the women's conversation. And though he wasn't at all interested in the topic of quilts and church politics, he found it difficult to ignore the pretty, doe-eyed brunette lying propped on one arm beside Diana.
"So can you can help with that, Godfrey? Or are you too busy walking in the clouds?"
Henri's voice brought him rudely back to the present and he quickly returned his attention to the men seated opposite him.
They stared at him, waiting for him to answer.
What the heck had they been talking about?
"Uh...help with..."
He swallowed the knot in his throat.
"Sure...I can help."
What had he just signed up for?
"Are you sure?" Henri asked, "because it seems to me you might be too busy gawking at my sister."
Godfrey stared, dumbfounded, at the handsome man with the twinkling brown eyes, the infectious smile, and the stubble on his chin.
"She's your sister? That's Antoinette?"
He nodded while the other men had a good laugh.
"That's Antoinette. You keep your hands off her now, y'hear? She's only out for a visit - and I'm sending her back home in one piece - if you catch my drift."
Godfrey gulped as Henri's face grew serious, the bright smile disappearing.
"I catch your drift..."
"Right then," said Henri, nodding sharply as Godfrey took one last look at Antoinette and sat up straight, "my barn. We start next Saturday morning. Bright and early. It's a bee so there'll be plenty of food and wine - and you know I'm good to return the favour anytime."
Leo, Isaac, and Valérien grunted their agreement.
"We'll be there," said Leo, glaring sharply at Godfrey.
Godfrey ignored his older brother's glare. Ever since the "incident", Leo had been treating him like a child.
"Do you need us for the Sunday as well?" asked Isaac, packing a fresh pipe with tobacco.
"No," Henri answered, "the Saturday should be good enough - but we'll see come sundown, how much we've got left to do. It's really just the raising and the roof. The rest I can do myself."
Isaac nodded as he struck a match and lit the sweet-smelling tobacco picked from Edmond Grenier's two weeks earlier.
"Alright."
Later, much later, with the sun sinking below the horizon, and as the last remaining friends, families, and parishioners packed their picnic baskets and picnic blankets away, Godfrey found himself suddenly alone with the beautiful young woman he'd been admiring earlier.
"Hi."
She smiled. A shy, but vivacious smile.
"Hi."
"It was a good day for a picnic, eh?"
She smiled a second time. "Yeah. It was nice. I didn't know there were so many Quebecers out here. I thought we'd be the only ones. By we, I mean my brother and Diana and me," she added, relieving Godfrey's questioning stare.
Godfrey grinned. "Right. Well, as you can see," he said, gesturing toward the tired mothers and sun-burnt children making their way up the hill, fathers at the reins and wheels of wagons and motorcars, waiting (impatiently) to take them home.
She nodded. "Yes, I must have met close to a hundred people today - and they all spoke French. Kind of nice."
"Reminds you of home, eh?"
She looked at him as though she hadn't expected him to understand.
"Yes."
Godfrey blushed, happy he'd said something she'd approved of.
"I don't know if I would have lasted out here this long without all these good people," he said, gesturing once more at the people still visible in the fading light. "They've been good to me. Your brother and Diana especially," he added, returning his gaze to her.
"Yeah, I'm staying with them at the moment."
"Oh."
There'd be plenty of opportunity to see her...
"That's great."
She shrugged. "It's alright. I feel a little under foot at times - but Diana's been really good about it," she added hastily, clearly sensing Godfrey's love for her brother and his wife. "She makes me feel right at home."
Godfrey nodded, glancing warily over his shoulder to see if Henri was around.
"That's good. She's a good cook too."
The young woman smiled, her eyes warm and smoldering as she returned his gaze. "The best. I'll have to learn to cook as well as her. I'm out here until the Fall - so that'll give me plenty of time."
Godfrey smiled. He liked this girl.
Quick to smile - and yet shy - a sign of modesty.
"Well, Leo and I will be over to test out you're cooking - Diana has us over quite a bit. Every other Sunday in fact. The other Sundays were at Isaac and Antonia's - "
He stopped himself abruptly. "I don't think I gave you my name yet."
The young woman shook her head, her head cocked to one side as she took him in.
"My name's Godfrey. Godfrey Leduc."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Godfrey. My name's Antoinette. Antoinette Lapalme."
THE END
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Once again, as with the first two novellas in the Godfrey series, I found the Wainwright Star digital archives (c/o Wainwright Public Library) https://www.wainwrightlibrary.ab.ca/Newspaper-Archives to be extremely helpful. Simply perform a search for a name, place, date and you’re likely to find something of interest. If your family has roots in the Wainwright area, I highly recommend you check out this fantastic resource.
Now for acknowledgements. I’m thankful to all of you who purchased and read the first two books in the series. It means a lot and I hope you’ll enjoy what’s to come. Also, this may seem somewhat odd, but I have to thank the Canadian winter (and not the West Coast version! All you lucky folks out there!) for providing me with the first-hand resources (snow, ice, cold, wind, sleet, arctic blasts) needed to write the storm scene. It was easy to put myself in my great-grandfather’s place. : )
FACT VERSUS FICTION
As with the first two books in the Godfrey series, Book Three contains elements of both fact and fiction. I prefer to be factual, but to make a story work - and to provide enough of a plot - sometimes I need to sprinkle in a bit of fiction. Godfrey, to my knowledge, was never caught in a snowstorm. But then, every Canadian prairie settler had a snowstorm story (former Prime Minister John G. Diefenbaker, of Saskatchewan extraction, coming home one night from some social function, found himself caught in a snowstorm and stopped in the road, turned up the sled, and passed the night underneath it) and it’s quite possible Godfrey had one too. Hopefully not as harrowing as the one I wrote about!
Moving on, the place to get your haircut in early twentieth century Wainwright was at the Telford’s barbershop.
Billings Bakery was where you got your bread and baked goods.
The Ukrainians were colloquially referred to as “Ukies” in Alberta.
Thompson’s Grocers is fictitious.
The Wainwright Hotel was real (see the back of Book Two for more details and a photograph.)
John Edward Brownlee, fifth Premier of Alberta, became leader of the United Farmers’ Association political arm in 1925 at the request of then leader, Herbert Greenfield. The UFA enjoyed enormous popularity and success throughout the 1920s and won landslide victories in both the 1921 and 1926 provincial elections. Unfortunately for the p
arty, Brownlee was embroiled in a sex scandal - no small matter in the eyes of early twentieth-century Albertans - and the UFA saw a dramatic drop in support by the mid 1930s. (You can of course read all about this interesting Canadian history on-line. And I encourage you to do so. Lots of great stories there. And as the old adage goes, truth really can be stranger than fiction!)
As mentioned in the closing notes for Book Two, Godfrey used the Wainwright Star and the National Geographic to learn English. He would copy out entire pages and in this day got a good handle on the language.
Again, as mentioned in the closing notes for Book Two, Father Joseph McGrane was pastor at Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church from approximately 1933 - 1940. These dates, of course, come later, but I decided to use him as pastor since he would be pastor at some important parts in the books to come and I wanted the reader to have a history with him.
Edmond Grenier was a good friend of the Leduc brothers and was known for the tobacco he grew.
Atlas Lumber, owned and operated by the Welch family, was one of the sole sources for lumber, paint, and building supplies in the Wainwright area prior to World War Two.
Sulfanilamide was commonly used by farmers to treat infections and flesh wounds on their animals.
The Elite Theatre really did exist and hosted hundreds of plays, social events, and showed movies.
The names of most of the people in this book are the names of friends and family members of the Leduc’s. I’ve met a number of them and I have pictures of many others. The Quebec expat community in the Wainwright area was fairly tight-knit. Several notable descendants of these expat families have gone on to achieve great success. Famed Canadian hockey player Mark Messier and Leon Benoit, current Member of Parliament for Vegreville - Wainwright, are but two. (The Leduc’s, coincidentally, knew both families. Antonia Messier, who married Isaac Leduc, was most likely a relation.)
Joseph Lapalme, the father of Henri and Antoinette Lapalme (among others), was born c. 1839 and died January, 1924. In this book, I have his passing take place in the late Fall of 1925 (for purposes of the story). In 2012, I traveled to St. Dominique, Quebec and found the Catholic church there. After just fifteen minutes of exploring the small cemetery behind it, I located his tombstone. Joseph Lapalme is my great-great-grandfather. He is descended from Jean-Baptiste Gaboriault dit Lapalme, born September 15, 1734 at Chambly, Quebec. (The father of this Jean-Baptiste, Pierre, was born c. 1704 in Bordeaux, France and died in 1776 near Chambly, Quebec.) Jean-Baptiste Gaboriault dit Lapalme got the Lapalme nickname when he saved several people from drowning in the Chambly rapids. On the medal awarded him for his heroism, there was a palm tree and this, according to several sources, is how the Gaboriault’s came to get the surname Lapalme. (You can find all of this information on-line.)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Originally from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan , Adrien Leduc makes his home in Ottawa with his fiancee and their two crazy cats. He is a graduate of Carleton University (B.A. ’10) and is passionate about Canadian history. An avid reader and writer, Adrien hopes to write and publish many more books in his lifetime.
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