Authors: Mona Ingram
“Well she wouldn’t, would she? But that’s no reason to take against her, surely.” Jason was acting completely out of character.
He shot her a quick glance. “She’s so darned prickly. No matter what I say to her, we end up in an argument.”
Wendy nodded and lowered her eyes so he couldn’t see the smile lurking there. “You know, Jason, not every woman is as easygoing as the ones you’ve been dating. Even Christine went along with everything you wanted.”
His head came up. “Yeah. Everything except living on a farm. She drew the line at that.”
Wendy didn’t want to get into that again. Jason’s heart had been broken when Christine announced that she was going back to Regina after living with him for almost a year, but that was in the past. In her opinion it was for the best; it never would have worked out, but she kept those thoughts to herself.
Wendy took a deep breath. “Does this mean that you’re going to judge every woman that comes along based on what happened between you and Christine? Because if that’s so, something tells me you’re going to be a lonely old man.”
He shrugged and downed the rest of his tea. “I know, but…”
“What’s her name?”
“Charlie. That’s about all I know. Oh yes, she’s from Calgary.”
“Aha. Named after her great great aunt Charlotte.” Wendy glanced northward, toward Janelle’s land. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Charlie had some relationship problems of her own recently.”
“Oh?” He looked up hopefully. “In what way?”
“I don’t know all the details, but she was involved with a chap and they were planning to live together but it all blew up. Janelle said they’d been going out for quite a while. Charlie took it hard. No wonder she’s so…what did you call her…prickly.”
“That explains some of it, I guess.” Jason glanced up, smiling ruefully. “But even at the best of times, this woman could try a guy’s patience.”
“And is there anything wrong with that?” Wendy’s rebuke was spoken gently. “Seems to me that a woman with a little backbone would make life interesting. After all, as you’re so fond of saying, we’re in the twenty-first century.”
“Yeah, I do, don’t I?” Jason smiled at his sister-in-law. “Thanks, Wendy.” He stood up and stretched. “I suppose I’d better get over there and do the evening chores before dinner. I’m thinking of running into town tonight.”
Wendy watched him disappear. Where Brad was dark and solid, Jason was the golden prince. Tall and lithe, he’d always seemed unaware of the effect he had on women. Maybe he’d finally met someone who would challenge his way of thinking. In spite of her affection for her brother-in-law, she was all too aware that he viewed the world in black and white. Deep in thought, she drank the remainder of her tea. Perhaps Jason’s way of looking at the world was the result of growing up on a farm. Here, there was little time for anything other than practicalities. Farming four sections of land was tough work.
Wendy pushed herself out of the chair and walked to the porch railing, where her gaze roamed slowly across the familiar landscape. Jason was the younger of the two brothers and when he’d announced that he wanted to stay and work the farm with Brad, she and her husband had been filled with pride. His love for the land equaled his brother’s and they worked well together. But he needed a life partner, and so far he hadn’t met any likely candidates.
The sweet smell of baked apples and cinnamon broke into her reverie and she headed downstairs. Jason wasn’t the only one who preferred to deal with practical matters.
* * *
Janelle hummed softly to herself as she hobbled up the stairs. She was pleased with what she’d accomplished on the sculpture today and was looking forward to getting away from the farm and spending an evening at The Trip. Thankfully, she’d be switching to a walking cast and a cane in a few days. She paused on the landing to catch her breath. Charlie’s bedroom door was open and she lay sprawled on the bed, fully dressed and sound asleep. Janelle turned away and then looked back. Her niece’s dark, curly hair was tousled by sleep and she fingered her own straight locks, wishing she’d been in line for that particular gene. She hadn’t noticed it yesterday, but Charlie’s strong, thin nose and generous lips were vaguely familiar. With a frown, she studied the line of Charlie’s chin and her graceful neck. “She reminds me of someone,” Janelle said to no one in particular. Perplexed, she made her way down the hall toward her own room. She badly needed the shower that would wash away the dust of today’s efforts. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows, bouncing off the glass in one of the framed portraits. With a smile of recognition, she paused in front of the portrait of Charlotte Freeman, her grandmother’s sister.
“The resemblance is uncanny,” she said thoughtfully, tilting her head to one side to study the portrait. She searched the corners of her memory for what she knew about the young woman in the portrait. None of what she had been told was happy.
* * *
“You’re sure I look okay?” Charlie climbed into the driver’s seat of the pickup truck and glanced over at her aunt. She wasn’t usually nervous in new situations, but she wanted to make a good impression. She thought about Jason and winced.
Janelle’s smile bolstered her confidence. “You look wonderful. I wish I had your clothes sense.” Her lips twitched. “You didn’t get that from your mother.”
Charlie nodded. “I know I shouldn’t criticize, but you’ve got that right. What can I say? Mom’s never been a happy camper.”
Janelle gave a wry smile. “Don’t worry, she’s my sister, remember?” They’d come to the end of the long driveway and Janelle indicated that they should turn right on the paved road, heading toward town. “Let’s just say that your Mom and I see things from different perspectives. She always wanted things to be just so. When we were kids she kept her half of the room neat and tidy and mine was a mess.” Her voice turned thoughtful. “I would guess that that’s what went wrong in her marriage too, although it isn’t my place to say. I think she wanted everything to be perfect and she thought she could mould your Dad into her version of what a husband should be.”
“And we all know how well that worked.” Charlie turned silent for a moment. “At least he’s content now with his new wife. Mom won’t even allow me to mention his name, but I’m happy for him.” Charlie darted a quick look at her aunt. “You know, I never talk about them, even with my best friend. You have no idea what a relief it is to have someone to talk to.”
“Actually, I do.” Janelle tilted her chin toward the last streaks of colour in the darkening sky. The undersides of the distant clouds were painted brilliant orange, bruised plum and soft peach; a rapidly fading fruit salad of colour. “Stop here for a moment, would you? I love to watch the sky when the sun is going down.”
Charlie pulled over and her aunt continued talking.
“When we were young, Matt and I used to drive out to the middle of nowhere and watch the sunsets. I can still remember the first time I told him about my dreams of becoming a sculptor. He was the first one who encouraged me and the only person who took me seriously.” Her voice trailed off as the last colour faded from the sky. “So yes, I know what it’s like to have someone to talk to. Someone who understands.”
“He sounds like a great guy.” Charlie was glad her aunt could talk so freely about the man she’d loved.
“He was.” Janelle motioned for Charlie to pull back out onto the road. “But tonight we’re going to listen to some music and enjoy ourselves. You never know what will happen at The Light Fantastic. That’s what makes it magical.”
“This dance hall…” Charlie searched for the right words…” Is it something to do with life on the prairies? I mean, I’ve never heard of an actual dance hall before. When you first mentioned it, I thought you were kidding.”
“Really?” Janelle chuckled. “Back in the 1920s and 30s people would come from miles around to dance and to visit. It was the center of social life in the area, and one of the few forms of entertainment. That was back before I was born, and growing up I thought every town had one. It wasn’t until I started travelling that I realized how unique it is.” They were entering the outskirts of the small town, where large grain elevators dominated the skyline, towering over the buildings clustered around the railway. Janelle watched Charlie’s reaction with interest. “I keep forgetting you’ve only been here once in your life, and you were only…what?...eight or nine?”
“Something like that. Mom couldn’t quite remember. Charlie craned her neck to look up at the massive structures.
The main road led them through the commercial center of town before making a wide, sweeping turn down toward the lake. Along the waterfront, buildings and trees sparkled with white lights, a virtual fairyland.
“It’s beautiful,” sighed Charlie. “I had no idea.”
Janelle smiled as though she too was seeing it for the first time. “It is, isn’t it? The thermal springs attract lots of tourists and the town council decided to spend some money to brighten up the waterfront. ” She pointed proudly. “And there’s The Light Fantastic.”
A large rectangular building dominated the shoreline. The entire building was outlined with lights and the words Dance Hall blazed across a tall false front. Janelle pointed to the entrance. “If you’d drop me off here, I’ll wait for you. You can park in the alley down beside the building. We normally go in the side door, but it’s your first time, so I want you to see it properly.”
Charlie parked and joined her aunt on the sidewalk in front of a set of broad, open doors. “Charlie Mitchell, welcome to The Light Fantastic.”
Several groups of people lingered in the foyer, chatting and laughing. Janelle led Charlie to an ornate ticket window, presided over by an older woman. “Margie, I’d like you to meet my niece, Charlie Mitchell.”
“Well, hello dearie.” Dark eyes assessed her quickly, and Charlie had the distinct impression that she’d just passed some sort of test. “Welcome to our little family.”
“Margie has been running the ticket booth for over thirty years now.” Janelle’s voice held genuine affection.
“That’s right.” The woman scanned the lobby before bringing her gaze back to Charlie. “I started here the year my boys finished school. Been at it ever since.” She gestured grandly toward the entrance. “Go on now, show her around.” She leaned forward, resting her ample bosom on the counter. “You come visit me any time, you hear?” She turned to greet a newly arrived foursome.
Charlie’s eyes adjusted slowly to the dim lighting inside the hall. Her aunt stayed back, allowing her to take it all in.
Stepping inside was like going back in time…and into the center of a carousel. The building was tall, the height easily accommodating the traditional carousel top. A central pole completed the illusion. Around the perimeter, twelve large niches had been cleverly inset into the walls and each one held an exquisitely carved carousel horse. Lit for maximum effect, the painted animals appeared to dance and float through the air, manes and tails flying as they galloped around the room.
Booths around the edge of the room had been designed to resemble the seats of a carousel. At each booth, a pool of candlelight cast a soft, intimate glow. The setting was pure magic, and Charlie gasped in delight, trying to take it all in.
“This is amazing.” She turned to find her aunt watching her. “Can you feel it?” She continued to turn in a slow circle, her gaze briefly caressing each horse, then lifting to take in the sweeping canopy of the carousel roof.
“Feel what?” Janelle looked at her curiously.
“The history.” Charlie raked her fingers though her hair, not caring if she messed it up. There were too many competing images stampeding through her mind. Too many different stories had played out here, in this amazing building.
She tilted her head, as though listening to voices from the past. “The hope, the disappointment, the love.” A sudden chill slithered up her spine. “The sorrow.”
Janelle gave her an odd look. “You can feel all that?”
Charlie laughed self-consciously. “Don’t listen to me. I have an over-active imagination.”
“That’s better than no imagination at all.” Janelle gave her a clumsy hug, balanced on her crutches. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the band. They start their first set in five minutes.” They made their way to a raised dais. A tall man with a dark tan and a white moustache beamed as he picked up his guitar. “Charlie, this rogue’s name is Clint Jackson. Clint, this is my niece.” She nodded to the rest of the band members, most of whom were as old as Clint. “Hi boys. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” She guided Charlie away and leaned closer. “Clint Jackson and His Prairie Gentlemen. The ladies love them.”