Tricia looked around her with delighted eyes as Uncle Bev's car came to a stop. Uncle Bev and Aunt Becca had offered to bring her and Katia out to the Island with them, since she had never gone before.
Uncle Bev smiled at her. He was a kind man, short, with brilliant blue eyes and a pleasant smile. "I remember my first trip out here, to the King farm. I thought I had come home for the first time in my life. See that willow there?" pointing to an absolutely enormous willow tree by the front door. "That was planted by my Grandfather King, after coming home from plowing one day. He stuck his willow switch in the ground, and it took root, and there it still stands to this day. There's a monument for you, eh?"
"Now, Bev," admonished Aunt Becca. She was only a year older than Tricia's own departed father, and very like him by all accounts. "You'll keep the girls out here all day with your stories if we let you. Let's get inside; the girls must be exhausted."
Uncle Bev smiled sheepishly. "My apologies, ladies. Just wait 'til Alan's Aunt Sara gets here, though. Then you'll hear some stories!"
Tricia followed her aunt and uncle inside the old farmhouse, her eyes taking everything in. Suddenly remembering the silent child along with her, she turned her head to check on her. Katia smiled brilliantly up at her.
"It's just like something out of a fairy tale, Aunt Tricia," she whispered.
Well, Tricia thought, to a girl who escaped the horrors of revolutionary Russia and then lived in a city the next several years, an Island farmhouse probably was just like a dream or fantasy.
They were met just inside the door by "Uncle" Dan and "Aunt" Kitty—all Alan's relatives told both Tricia and Katia to call them aunt and uncle to keep confusion to a minimum—and their two youngest: Steve, who was Tricia's age and engaged to his cousin Felicity Giraud ("Aunt" Sara's daughter), and Cecily, who was fifteen and very sweet and shy.
They poured welcomes on them effusively and whisked them off to the kitchen for a meal. Aunt Kitty was a fine cook, and Tricia watched with satisfaction as Katia tucked in and ate as heartily as she'd ever seen.
Dinner over, Tricia saw that Katia's eyes were drooping, so she put her up to bed in the room they both were to share with Cecily, despite the child's protests.
"I'm not a bit tired, Aunt Tricia," she claimed, stifling an enormous yawn with her arm.
Tricia hid a smile. "If you don't get to bed now, you'll be too tired to join in all the fun tomorrow. Aunt Sara and Uncle Laurent have two children close to your age. Don't you want to be awake enough to play with them?"
Thus reasoned with, Katia saw sense and was willing to be tucked in. Tricia kissed her goodnight, went back downstairs, and was met by bedlam.
Alan had come in from taking Anna for a stroll through Uncle Stephen's Walk and was hugging and kissing his parents. He saw Tricia and grabbed her into a bear hug.
"If it isn't little Patsy!" he cried.
Tricia made a face. "Oh Alan, must you call me that? I hate that nickname."
Alan dropped a kiss on her cheek. "I know. That's why I use it." He led her over to where a tall, lovely woman was standing with his parents. "Cousin o' mine, I want you to meet Anna Petrova, the most beautiful woman in the world—except you, of course, Mum."
Anna immediately hugged Tricia warmly. "I am so pleased to meet Alan's favorite cousin I have heard so much about," she said in perfect, though slightly accented English.
She was tall and stately, with dark gold hair, high, broad cheekbones, and warm brown eyes. Tricia liked her at once.
"And I'm happy to meet the girl who stole my cousin's heart."
"But where is the little Russian girl Alan said you were bringing? I was so looking forward to meeting a countrywoman."
Tricia smiled. "She was worn out from the trip and excitement, so I put her to bed. you'll meet her in the morning."
"Good."
The two talked for a bit longer, until Uncle Dan finally begged all the young people to adjourn to the orchard.
"You young fry may be able to stay up all hours of the night, but we old folk need our rest. Go on, now, out you go."
Laughing, they all piled out to the famous King orchard, the trees aflame with the triumphant colors of late September.
"Oh," Tricia breathed.
"It is beautiful, is it not?" Anna agreed. "We are so hoping the weather stays fine so that we may be married underneath Alan's birth tree. The bridesmaids—you must see your dress, it is lovely—will be in crimson and deep green, and I'll bear a coronet of leaves on my head instead of a veil. Oh, it will be perfect, if only the weather cooperates!"
Tricia put her arm around the taller girl. "I'm sure it will. How could it not? Everything has to come together for your wedding."
They were met in the orchard by yet more cousins—Olivia and Felicity Giraud, elder daughters of the famous Sara Giraud nee Stanley; Maud, Elizabeth, and Sara Craig, minister's daughters from Avonlea, where Di's brother Shirley lived; Uncle Dan's older two, Alex and Katie, and…
Tricia caught her breath at the sight of him. Tall, broad-shouldered, devastatingly handsome, with dark brown hair, a dreamy, tender mouth, and velvety brown eyes…her head whirled around.
Alan let out a shout. "Blair! I was wondering when you were going to show up. Where've you been all day, you shirker?"
Blair—Tricia knew now that this was Blair Giraud, just Alan's age and as close to him as a brother—smiled distantly. "I've been exploring…visiting the old haunts Mother always told me about. This is my first trip here, you know. I must become acquainted with the land of my forefathers."
Oh, his voice! There were no words to describe it. One could say that it was clear and vibrant; one might call it pure and deep; it could be called rich and full and charming, and yet that still didn't do it justice.
His voice was as alive as he was—as alive or more so than Tricia or any of the other people there. He suddenly made everyone else seem plain and faded away—even Alan, Tricia's best friend and hero since childhood, suddenly seemed washed out and dull. Blair's voice was effervescent and animated and—
Before Tricia could gather her thoughts, he was right there in front of her, and Alan was introducing them.
"Blair, I want you to meet my cousin on Mum's side, Patricia Woods. Patsy, this is Blair Giraud."
Tricia writhed. Oh, why did Alan have to use that horrible childhood nickname in front of this marvelous creature? She'd always hated being called Patsy—loathed it. When she was thirteen she had announced that she was Tricia, and refused to be known as anything else from that day forward. Alan just called her Patsy now to annoy her.
Blair smiled. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Patricia," he said in his melting tones.
"As—as am I," she managed lamely, stuttering a little.
He moved on, leaving her blushing and furious. Why—why did she have to make such a fool of herself? Why couldn't she be poised and dignified, like Di? Di would never let herself be flustered by a handsome face and mellifluous voice.
Tricia was still kicking herself later that night when she crawled into bed next to Katia. She swore to herself that she wouldn't be such a little idiot again—the next time she saw Blair Giraud, she would be smooth and calm and elegant. He wasn't going to think of her as a foolish, stammering, idiotic little girl!
The next day—the day before the wedding—was full of preparations. Tricia met Alice and Jasper Giraud, the thirteen-year-old twins, who promptly whisked Katia off to Golden Milestone (their home when they stayed in Carlisle). The little girl was as lively and lively as Tricia had ever seen her. She smiled and thanked her lucky star that she had thought to bring Katia along with her. This seemed just what she had needed to perk her up.
Anna didn't have any family in Canada, so her bridesmaids were all from Alan's family. Tricia was maid of honor; Maud Craig, a black-eyed, black-curled, jolly twenty-two-year-old, Felicity Giraud, who was as beautiful as her brother was handsome, though without his unnamable charm, her fifteen-year-old sister Olivia, who was rather plain but spirited, and Cecily King were the bridesmaids.
The girls accepted Tricia instantly as one of their own, and several hours were spent ooh-ing and ah-ing over their frocks—Tricia was to be in crimson with green trim, and the rest were green with crimson trim.
They had barely emerged from the fittings when the young men strolled up. Everyone partnered off—Alan and Anna, obviously, while Steve and Felicity went off somewhere together, and the rest magically melted away, leaving Tricia alone with Blair.
She was telling herself sternly not to blush when he spoke.
"It would seem we have been abandoned."
His voice was laughing; it seemed to draw Tricia in and invited her to be a part of his private joke. She felt herself relaxing.
"So it appears. I think Alan's forgotten that I'm a stranger here."
"Have you never been to Carlisle?"
She smiled deprecatingly. "I've never been to Prince Edward Island at all. In fact, I've rarely been out of Toronto in all my eighteen years."
Blair raised his head and gazed off in the distance, over the farmers' fields and wooded spaces. "I was born in France—my father is French, you know—and traveled most of the world, but I've never seen a lovelier sight than this island. I almost can't forgive my mother for never bringing me here before." He shook his head and laughed; his laugh was as delightful as everything else about him. "Not that it's her fault. She's been back a few times with my siblings; I was just either in school or otherwise occupied."
"I wish I could travel," Tricia said wistfully. "I've never seen anything."
Blair offered her his arm. "Well, I happen to know we have a few hours yet before we must rehearse tomorrow's ceremony. Might I offer myself as your guide to Carlisle? I've been exploring ever since I arrived, and I know this area rather well."
Tricia smiled. "I would be honored."
They wandered all over that afternoon. He took her by Golden Milestone and told her the story behind how it came to be in his family's possession: its original owners, Jasper and Alice Dale, had been extremely fond of his mother in her youth, and never forgot her after she left. When they died childless, on the same day, it came out that they had left their home and everything in it to her. She was pregnant with the twins at the time; she and Blair's father came immediately to Carlisle to see their new home. While there, she gave birth to her two youngest children, and named them Jasper and Alice in loving remembrance of the dear, departed former owners.
"How sweet," Tricia breathed, looking at the old farmhouse. It wasn't a fancy house, by any stretch of the imagination—no wealthy Torontonian would have been caught dead inside a house like that—but Blair's story infused it with an air of romance.
By the time they made it back to the King farm, Blair and Tricia were firm friends and had known each other forever. As Di would have said, they were both of the race that knew Joseph.
Anna's prayers were answered, and the wedding morning dawned bright, crisp, and clear. As Tricia helped the blushing bride into her frosty white gown and carefully arranged the chaplet of leaves on her dark gold hair, she couldn't help tearing up a little.
"I am so very, very happy for you," she said, handing Anna her bouquet of golden chrysanthemums, orange nasturtiums, white camellias, and a few sprays of grey-green rosemary. "I couldn't think of a better match for my Alan."
The two hugged briefly, not wanting to spoil either of their dresses, and then made their way out to where the rest of the bridesmaids were waiting.
As Anna's parents were both dead, the couple had decided to eschew the traditional method of walking down the "aisle"—in this case, between two rows of fiery trees. Instead, each groomsman met his bridesmaid at the foot of the path and walked her down, and Alan himself met Anna and they walked hand-in-hand to stand underneath his tree and say their vows.
The wedding ceremony, performed by Alan's Uncle Peter, was long afterward talked of as one of the most beautiful ever done in Carlisle, but Tricia heard not a word of it. She had been escorted by Blair, and she could still feel the warmth of his hand under her arm. His deep brown eyes locked with hers the moment Alan began his vows, and she didn't notice anything else until she found herself, somehow, walking back down the path with him.
The reception, in the King tradition, was a large affair, full of dancing and food and fun. Tricia danced one dance with Blair, and decided that it really wasn't quite safe to do so again. she contented herself with the other cousins, even honoring dear Uncle Bev with one dance.
She laughed to see Katia's hand contended for amongst the young fry. It seemed every young boy at the wedding wanted to dance with the lovely girl. Before she agreed to dance with any of them, however, Alan swooped down upon her and whisked her away, beaming.
Tricia smiled and found Anna by her shoulder. "Alan and I have both quite fallen in love with your Katia. She is such a sweet child."
"Yes, she is," Tricia agreed sincerely. "Everyone who knows her loves her."
Uncle Felix, the plump, jolly bachelor brother of Uncle Bev, came up then to claim Anna for a dance. Tricia stayed on the outskirts, glad to rest her feet for a while and watch the whirling mass.
Blair looked across the orchard at her and wondered what had happened to him. He had no desire to marry yet. His mother had been thirty-four when she married, and he fully intended to wait at least that long. Then he came to Alan's wedding and met this slender slip of a girl, with light brown hair and hazel eyes and a smile that seemed to hold all the secret knowledge of women from before time began…and he was lost. He knew now that he was meant to marry Patricia Woods—how beautiful she had looked, when she scowled at her cousin for calling her that! The only question remaining was how long it would take until she knew that they were going to marry.
Tricia caught sight of Blair watching her intently and blushed. She didn't understand the way she felt—she had barely met the man two days ago!—but she was relieved she was going to be going back to Toronto in a few days. She liked her life and her work at the Home, and she didn't want anything interfering with that—not even the most handsome man to ever set butterflies dancing in her stomach.
Author's Note: I thought it was time to give Tricia a little life of her own--let me know what you think! I hope you all like the introduction of the "Story Girl" characters--we'll see a bit more of them as the story progresses.