Winter Shadows Read Online Free Page B

blustered her ignorance of any “condition” at first, but soon grew very quiet on the subject. No doubt, working out her defense. I was angry with Papa for accepting Ivy’s lies, but I also knew he had been distracted by the loss of his work and his own physical pain. I made sure, however, that he saw his mother’s scarred back
.
    I could tell, like me, Mrs. McBride was aghast, but she quietly set to work on nôhkom. I so love this plain, unfussy woman. The last time she came, she was satisfied that nôhkom’s open sores had finally healed, thanks to her hot poultices of alumroot and my turning nôhkom regularly when she was in bed
.
    Mary McBride came as Mary Macfarlane from the island of Islay in Scotland, where she had been a healer and midwife. A short, broad, cheerful body with rusty flyaway hair and red cheeks, she had just turned thirty when she’d married a widower with five children – James McBride – a kindly Rupert’s Lander and a great friend of my papa’s. At the time, she was working in the settlement as a midwife. She moved to St. Cuthbert’s with Mr. McBride and became a willing student of the Indian shaman who visits our village. We have one English doctor for the entire settlement, and as he must tend to all families, from the river forks seventeen miles away to the Lower Fort six miles past us, he has come to rely on Mrs. McBride for much of our parish health concerns
.
    Note to myself: Call by her farm soon and buy more
winsikis
- which she calls snakeroot – for nôhkom’s persistent cough
.
    When I’d helped Mrs. McBride put the final steaming poultice on my grandmother’s back a week ago, she’d looked at me intently. “Can I help you, lass? Are you no’ sleeping well? You need a tonic, I think. Do you no’ have some Laborador tea around?” When I shook my head, she added, “Well, I’ll leave you a mixture of that and dried birch leaves – makes a good all-round tonic, that does. If that doesna help, I’ll make you a tincture of valerian. I used that a lot back home. I think you might need it.” She chucked me under the chin and left
.
    Her concoction of leaves helped give me a bit more energy, but the shadows remained. I couldn’t ask for the other medicine. We owed her enough for nôhkom’s treatments as well as the massages and specially prepared mixture for Papa’s
constant pain – and Mrs. McBride deserves every penny of the small amount she charges. Besides, what could possibly help disperse this darkness in my mind? I must find my own way out of the shadows
.
    As I settled nôhkom, making sure she had everything at hand, the guilt I still felt for having left her to go to school in Upper Canada flooded me again. I couldn’t talk to Papa, who was dealing with too many dark things of his own
. What does the future hold for us all? For me?
I wondered
.
    “Go, child, or you will be late for sure!” nôhkom called
.
    Unable to speak, I gave her a hug, gathered up my books and papers, shoved them into my pouch, and ran down the stairs. I heard Ivy’s and Papa’s voices in the kitchen. Suddenly Ivy’s grew shrill and Papa’s silent. A dark wing fluttered across my vision. Dressing quickly in my outer clothing, I grabbed my snowshoes, wrapped a warm scarf over my fur bonnet, and escaped into the snow
.

4

CASS
    W ith Daisy asleep in her bed, I sat against my pillows in the dark, letting Debussy’s
Clair de Lune
flow through my earphones. I’d learned to play it on the piano because Mom loved it so much. Suddenly, on a swell of music, I knew my heart was about to burst. I shut the music off, picked up the little star brooch, and, holding it tight, fell asleep, only to be woken up by raspy murmuring followed by heavy coughing. Daisy must be getting a cold. That’s all I needed – a snottier than usual roommate.
    I lay there, groggy and dry-throated. The room was freezing.
Have the electric baseboards gone off again?
Outside my window, snow was falling heavily and