Disclaimer: I own nothing from the original books (as if you didn't know
that already)
A/N: Sorry it's been so long. New job and everything. Anyway, here we go. Oh, one more thing. After I read 'Mistress Pat' again the other day, it finally hit me as to why L. M. Montgomery makes no mention of WWII in that book. She wrote it before WWII and died in 1942. I feel horrible for not having realized this before. How could I call myself a true L. M. Montgomery fan? But, I'm getting off the subject. Although, technically, the end of Mistress Pat overlaps with WWII, I've decided not to mention it in my fic. It just makes things easier.
Pat hurried her steps as she tracked down her older brother. If she caught him in his present mood, he would have his carefully built guard down and he'd talk to her. If she caught him too late, he would be sullen and gloomy, not at all prone to conversation. As she reached her destination, she made out his silhouette against the brilliant scarlets and oranges of the sunset sky. He turned just as she reached him.
"Please don't say 'I told you so', Pat. I don't think I could bear it."
Pat was all at once shocked and embarrassed. Shocked that Sid would think her capable of saying such a thing to him and embarrassed because she had mentally said those words to him several times over the last five years. She shrugged off his comment and concentrated instead on comforting this miserable brother of hers.
"Oh, Sid, I would never say that to you." It was true. No matter how many times she may have thought it, Patricia Gardiner would never intentionally say something that would hurt anyone she loved. Sid had realized his mistake in marrying May years ago. There was no need to rub his nose in it. Seeing the ever present guarded look gone from his eyes, Pat pressed her luck. After all, they were alone. And in the place that held so many fond memories for both of them. She looked straight into Sid's eyes, knowing that, like their father, he could never hold out against that look for long.
"Talk to me, Sid. Tell me everything about the past few years. I'm your sister. We used to talk about everything. Remember?"
Sid shook his head and turned away.
"We were kids then, Pat. Too many things have changed. We can never go back to the way things used to be. Judy's gone, Silver Bush is gone, you'll be leaving soon. It's too late."
Pat fought back tears. She would not cry now. Not now. Instead, she pressed on.
"But we're in our Secret Field," she said, coming around to face him again. "Our Secret Field, Sid. No matter how many people actually know about it, it will always belong to us. In your heart you know that. Whatever you say to me here, stays here. No one will ever find out."
Sid looked into his sister's eyes and felt himself weakening. How many times over the last few years had he longed to run to Pat and tell her everything as he used to do? But May had always been around, complaining if he spent too much time with his sister. Whining and crying until he could no longer take it and so, for peace's sake, he had quit going to Pat. Or anyone else for that matter. Now, without May around, and standing in the place that held so many happy memories for him, he felt it was the perfect time to speak with his sister.
Pat contained a smile as Sid sat down on a large stone nearby, a sign that he was ready to talk. She sat down across from him on the grass, ignoring completely the fact that she had on a light colored dress which would most likely be ruined by her actions. What were grass stains on a dress compared to the opportunity for a heart to heart with your brother?
She listened sympathetically as Sid poured everything out to her. The poor young man was quite unhappy and feeling very guilty about several things. He told her what life with May was really like. He had been fond of her to begin with, in a way. She was pretty and full of life. But he hadn't counted on her being controlling and possessive. Nor had he counted on her continuing her rivalry with Pat once they were married. By the time he was through telling her all the details, the sun had long since disappeared beyond the horizon and brother and sister were illuminated by starlight and moonlight. When Pat realized how responsible her brother was feeling for the demise of Silver Bush, she was horrified.
"Sid," she said softly, yet firmly, " you shouldn't blame yourself for Silver Bush burning down. It was an accident. To tell you the truth, I don't even blame May for it."
Sid's eyes grew wide. He was shocked by this revelation.
"But Silver Bush was your heart and soul. You loved it so dearly. How could you not blame her? It was her carelessness that started the fire."
"I did love Silver Bush. I still do. But, over the past month, I've come to realize that, as much as I loved it, a lot of that love was attached to the people in the house, not the home itself. And, Sid, none of our family was harmed. I thank God for that every day. There will never be another place like Silver Bush. But the land is still here. The graveyard, the Hill of the Mist, Happiness, the Secret Field. Some of our favorite places have been scarred, but their wounds will heal. And our home will always be part of our hearts. No fire can ever take our memories from us."
Sid had listened to this in astonishment. He had been so sure the fire would destroy Pat. Yet, it seemed that the person it was destroying was himself. He had always loved Silver Bush, but not with such devotion as Pat had. As he watched her now, her golden-brown eyes taking in everything around her, a sudden idea came to him. But he would have to talk to his father first.
They sat in silence for a few minutes longer until Hilary found them. He, too, made himself comfortable on the ground and the three of them settled into conversation. Sid and Hilary had long ago buried their small hatchet and, in the past couple of weeks, had become fairly good friends. They remained there long after the Bay Shore folks at Swallowfield had returned home and Swallowfield had darkened it's windows. All but one. The light in Sid and May's temporary bedroom burned until Sid came home. And it remained on long after that, as Sid, for the first time in five years, laid down some firm rules in no uncertain terms.
A/N: Okay, that's all for now. I promise I'll update again soon. I want to thank everyone who's reviewed so far. Keep reviewing, please. Emiri, Cordelia, Tiriana, Miri, and gnome girl, you were all a big help. And you guys (well, girls) are the only reason I've continued this story. Thank you so much.
A/N: Sorry it's been so long. New job and everything. Anyway, here we go. Oh, one more thing. After I read 'Mistress Pat' again the other day, it finally hit me as to why L. M. Montgomery makes no mention of WWII in that book. She wrote it before WWII and died in 1942. I feel horrible for not having realized this before. How could I call myself a true L. M. Montgomery fan? But, I'm getting off the subject. Although, technically, the end of Mistress Pat overlaps with WWII, I've decided not to mention it in my fic. It just makes things easier.
Pat hurried her steps as she tracked down her older brother. If she caught him in his present mood, he would have his carefully built guard down and he'd talk to her. If she caught him too late, he would be sullen and gloomy, not at all prone to conversation. As she reached her destination, she made out his silhouette against the brilliant scarlets and oranges of the sunset sky. He turned just as she reached him.
"Please don't say 'I told you so', Pat. I don't think I could bear it."
Pat was all at once shocked and embarrassed. Shocked that Sid would think her capable of saying such a thing to him and embarrassed because she had mentally said those words to him several times over the last five years. She shrugged off his comment and concentrated instead on comforting this miserable brother of hers.
"Oh, Sid, I would never say that to you." It was true. No matter how many times she may have thought it, Patricia Gardiner would never intentionally say something that would hurt anyone she loved. Sid had realized his mistake in marrying May years ago. There was no need to rub his nose in it. Seeing the ever present guarded look gone from his eyes, Pat pressed her luck. After all, they were alone. And in the place that held so many fond memories for both of them. She looked straight into Sid's eyes, knowing that, like their father, he could never hold out against that look for long.
"Talk to me, Sid. Tell me everything about the past few years. I'm your sister. We used to talk about everything. Remember?"
Sid shook his head and turned away.
"We were kids then, Pat. Too many things have changed. We can never go back to the way things used to be. Judy's gone, Silver Bush is gone, you'll be leaving soon. It's too late."
Pat fought back tears. She would not cry now. Not now. Instead, she pressed on.
"But we're in our Secret Field," she said, coming around to face him again. "Our Secret Field, Sid. No matter how many people actually know about it, it will always belong to us. In your heart you know that. Whatever you say to me here, stays here. No one will ever find out."
Sid looked into his sister's eyes and felt himself weakening. How many times over the last few years had he longed to run to Pat and tell her everything as he used to do? But May had always been around, complaining if he spent too much time with his sister. Whining and crying until he could no longer take it and so, for peace's sake, he had quit going to Pat. Or anyone else for that matter. Now, without May around, and standing in the place that held so many happy memories for him, he felt it was the perfect time to speak with his sister.
Pat contained a smile as Sid sat down on a large stone nearby, a sign that he was ready to talk. She sat down across from him on the grass, ignoring completely the fact that she had on a light colored dress which would most likely be ruined by her actions. What were grass stains on a dress compared to the opportunity for a heart to heart with your brother?
She listened sympathetically as Sid poured everything out to her. The poor young man was quite unhappy and feeling very guilty about several things. He told her what life with May was really like. He had been fond of her to begin with, in a way. She was pretty and full of life. But he hadn't counted on her being controlling and possessive. Nor had he counted on her continuing her rivalry with Pat once they were married. By the time he was through telling her all the details, the sun had long since disappeared beyond the horizon and brother and sister were illuminated by starlight and moonlight. When Pat realized how responsible her brother was feeling for the demise of Silver Bush, she was horrified.
"Sid," she said softly, yet firmly, " you shouldn't blame yourself for Silver Bush burning down. It was an accident. To tell you the truth, I don't even blame May for it."
Sid's eyes grew wide. He was shocked by this revelation.
"But Silver Bush was your heart and soul. You loved it so dearly. How could you not blame her? It was her carelessness that started the fire."
"I did love Silver Bush. I still do. But, over the past month, I've come to realize that, as much as I loved it, a lot of that love was attached to the people in the house, not the home itself. And, Sid, none of our family was harmed. I thank God for that every day. There will never be another place like Silver Bush. But the land is still here. The graveyard, the Hill of the Mist, Happiness, the Secret Field. Some of our favorite places have been scarred, but their wounds will heal. And our home will always be part of our hearts. No fire can ever take our memories from us."
Sid had listened to this in astonishment. He had been so sure the fire would destroy Pat. Yet, it seemed that the person it was destroying was himself. He had always loved Silver Bush, but not with such devotion as Pat had. As he watched her now, her golden-brown eyes taking in everything around her, a sudden idea came to him. But he would have to talk to his father first.
They sat in silence for a few minutes longer until Hilary found them. He, too, made himself comfortable on the ground and the three of them settled into conversation. Sid and Hilary had long ago buried their small hatchet and, in the past couple of weeks, had become fairly good friends. They remained there long after the Bay Shore folks at Swallowfield had returned home and Swallowfield had darkened it's windows. All but one. The light in Sid and May's temporary bedroom burned until Sid came home. And it remained on long after that, as Sid, for the first time in five years, laid down some firm rules in no uncertain terms.
A/N: Okay, that's all for now. I promise I'll update again soon. I want to thank everyone who's reviewed so far. Keep reviewing, please. Emiri, Cordelia, Tiriana, Miri, and gnome girl, you were all a big help. And you guys (well, girls) are the only reason I've continued this story. Thank you so much.
