Faith Meredith turned onto her side with a sigh. The bed was uncomfortable, and she'd been lying awake in the small cabin looking out into the dark for hours. Would this trip ever end? They'd been at sea for nearly five days, and tomorrow they were due to reach the dock and then she'd be back to the home she'd left nearly three years ago. She sighed again and fiddled with her ring. Her engagement ring. Its clasp was still foreign to her—foreign and absolutely right. It'd been five years since Jem had 'officially' asked her to marry him, five years since she accepted with her whole heart, five long years of blood and worry and pain.
The war had been over since November 1918—five months ago. It was nearly May, and at first, Faith had been told that she would not return to Canada until September. There'd been a change of plans, and here she was, hours from home.
The sea was getting rough again and she took some deep breaths and tried to comfort herself with thoughts of how close she was to home. Home—family, friends, her beloved Canada, and…Jem. Her roommate was sound asleep at the moment and Faith was glad. She had a lot on her mind and her emotions were moving around roughly inside of her, much like the waves that beat at the ship outside.
She hadn't told her family that she was coming—she wanted it to be a surprise. Twice before she left, she'd begun writing to tell them, but stopped. It would be wonderful to surprise them, she couldn't wait to see them all…she closed her eyes. Her thoughts took her back ten years—back to the world of youth and fun and good times, back to Rainbow Valley. She could smell the flowers; hear their childish, carefree laughter; see Di's fiery red hair and Mary Vance's flashing white eyes; feel Una's hand holding hers in a silent, comforting way. The way it had been, before the war, before life had forced them to grow up too fast and early, before they'd forever been changed by the chaos and hell upon earth on the other side of the world.
Faith opened her eyes. She'd never regretted her decision to volunteer and go to Europe. She could help people, learn new things, see the world, and she was closer to Jem. Her time there had forever changed her, and though she did not regret it, she was grateful to be going home. That was the last thing on her mind before she fell asleep.
The next morning she awoke early and soon set about getting her things together before going down to breakfast. Her roommate, Mary, was already gone, and again she was grateful. As much as she liked Mary, she could not to keep her mouth shut for more than a minute to save her soul.
The morning passed quickly, though Faith didn't know why. It'd been announced at breakfast that they were ahead of schedule, and that they'd be arriving in Canada soon. Maybe that's why the morning flew by, or maybe it'd been Mary's constant chatter. Either way, it was well past noon when the ship docked, and in a blinding flash, she found herself next to Mary, worn down with baggage, on Canadian soil once more.
Faith looked around, overwhelmed. She was home, safe and sound. Home for good. Even Mary's gushing about being home couldn't distract her. The realization that they had a train to catch snapped her out of her wonder. The two would catch a train to Charlottetown, where Mary lived, and then Faith would catch another train that would take her back to the Glen. If there were no delays, she thought she would be back late that night, or very early the next morning.
As they boarded the train, Faith took one last look at the ship that had carried her from Europe, where she'd spent many months of her life, many horrible, long months. She knew an important, life-changing experience was drawing to a close, and for a moment, tears pricked her eyes as she said good-bye.
Mary's urging made her forget her farewell, and they stepped into the train. The train was full of people from the ship, full of soldiers, some whole and in one piece, others disfigured and missing limbs, all wounded from the horrific images they'd seen overseas. As they walked by, Faith especially earned looks of interest. Then they caught sight of her engagement ring, glimmering in the bright sunlight, and scowled as they realized she was taken.
Mary spent the trip talking and then dozing off on Faith's shoulder. Faith tried to read, then to knit, and to write, before succumbing to sleep as well. Both slept long and soundly, only the jolt of the train screeching to a stop and the conductor announcing they'd arrived in Charlottetown awakened them.
"Well, that's me," yawned Mary, blinking at the bright light. Together they walked off, sleep and luggage weighing down on them. Mary's older brother had not yet arrived to pick her up, so as they waited for their trunks to be unloaded, they went into the station and soon learned Faith's adjoining train was delayed, and that an alternate train would not arrive until the very early next morning.
"Honestly," Mary exclaimed after learning the news, "this is ridiculous. We've just come from Europe, and all we want to do is go home, and this is what greets us?"
"Mary, it's alright," Faith said.
"No really, Faith, the railroad is as slow as molasses. I hate to leave you here by yourself."
"Don't worry about it, Mary, really. I could use a little quiet, and the time will pass quickly. I'll probably sleep through most of it."
Several honks and a yell made them turn their attention to the road. A young man with brown hair and Mary's snapping blue eyes was waving, a huge grin of his face. Mary squealed, dropped her bags, and ran towards the man. The man parked the car and jumped out and held his arms open. Mary threw herself into his arms and he spun her around, hugging her hard, the two of them laughing and talking excitedly. Faith watched the scene with happiness and longing. She was happy that Mary was home, that her brother was safe as well, and she couldn't wait to be held like that.
Mary's brother set her down, and Mary pulled him over to Faith. She bounced the whole way, her blinding smile never faltering.
"Faith," she said, "this is my brother, James."
His name made her heart skip a beat, but she smiled widely and held out her hand. "Faith Meredith."
James smiled and took her left hand, as her right was weighed down with bags. Her ring glimmered.
"Nice to meet you, Faith," he smiled. "So you're the girl whom my sister has written so much about."
"That would be me," she grinned.
"It's great to put a face to a name."
"It is," she agreed. "I feel like I know your entire family from her letters from home."
The three exchanged small talk for another few minutes before James announced that their mother was keeping dinner and had a whole houseful of people waiting at home for her. Faith was invited to join, but she declined. With many hugs to Mary and promises to write, they were off towards home.
Faith learned the expected arrival times of her next train and settled back into the lobby to try and doze off until it came. Several other people were stranded as well and were attempting to sleep the time away until five the next morning, when the train arrived.
Faith was able to sleep most of the night and the new train was right on time. She dozed most of that trip as well, and that was just fine with her. The time flew along with the train, and it was late afternoon when she finally awoke and discovered that they were nearing the Glen St. Mary station.
The sun was beginning to sink into the sky when the train finally stopped in Glen St. Mary. Faith was one of the last passengers off, and when her feet finally touched the wooden deck of the station, a thrill shot up her body.
She was home.
She clutched her carpetbag in her hands as she made her way across the planks, her heels clicking on the wood. No one knew she'd been coming, so she was alone. With a laugh, she realized no one was here to help her load her trunk and take it home, and there was no way she could do it alone without a buckboard or car.
"Well, that's what I get for coming home secretly," she chided herself, and for the next ten minutes, she busied herself in having her trunk brought inside where she made arrangements to have it picked up the next day. Most of what she really needed were in her carpetbags, and she could borrow anything she didn't have from Una. Una. The thought of her sister made her want to shout with joy or do some other action that would be most improper in public, so she stifled a squeal of giddiness and started off home down the sun-soaked road.
She kept her hat off, soaking in the fading rays and breathing in the fresh Glen air. Many people were out enjoying the golden evening as well. Faith smiled and nodded at all of them, and exchanged small talk with a few people, but walked quickly, her eagerness propelling her.
Farther down the road, Faith could make out a figure. It was a tall man, and as she came closer noticed that his hair was red. The sunlight behind him set his tresses ablaze, and her heart caught in her throat.
Could it be. . . ?
She drew a little closer, and the man stopped. Despite the distance that separated them, she could see his eyes. The hazel eyes.
It was Jem.
For a moment to soak up the picture of him—the living, breathing sight of him, the man she'd loved for over ten years, the man she'd said good-bye to nearly five years ago, the man who she'd nearly lost in the wretched chaos the world knew as war. . .
He seemed to be doing the same thing. He came a little closer, and Faith could see his eyes clearly…and they were shining with tears. Tears. Big, strong, adventure-seeking Jem Blythe…crying.
A sob caught in her throat and tears flooded her eyes as well. She dropped her bags, hiked up her skirts in a most improper, unladylike way, and rushed towards him.
He threw his arms open and came to meet her halfway, and the next thing she knew, she was safe in Jem's strong arms. He spun her around, clutching her tightly while she cried and laughed into his chest.
The old gossips of the Glen would have been shocked to have witnessed such a passionate scene in public, but in this case, even Kitty Davis could make an exception. Jem and Faith's courtship was a regular topic of conversation for the town's busybodies, as their parents were some of the most respected figures in the Glen St. Mary community.
The fact that people may be watching them was the last thing on Jem's mind as he held Faith. Let them look, he thought. Let them all look. Let them talk. Let them make their assumptions. He hugged her tightly once more and set her down and just looked at her.
She was still Faith. The same beautiful, vivacious, caring, impulsive Faith he'd fallen for at Queen's. Her hair was as unruly and wavy as ever, her eyes—glowing a hypnotic golden-brown from the light of the setting sun—still sparkled as they had at Rainbow Valley all of those years ago. . .he was mesmerized. It was this image—this precious picture—that he'd kept tucked away in a very special place in his heart all of those years overseas. It was this face he'd thought of when buddies dropped dead on the blood-soaked, war-torn land all around him; it was this face that he'd focused on before falling asleep as the sky was lit up by falling bombs; it was this face that kept him going in the German prisoner-of-war camp and it was this face that brought him home. He took her hands, her left one still adorned by the engagement ring he'd placed there nearly five years ago, and brought them to his lips.
Faith couldn't believe this was happening. She was home safe, back in Canada, back in the Glen, back home for good. Jem was holding her once again and he was safe, too. He would never have to go overseas; war could never claim him now…he was here, alive and well.
Jem was the first to break them from their reminisces. "How are you here?" he asked. "We were told you weren't supposed to be here until September."
"You honestly think I would wait until September to come home?" retorted Faith mischievously, eyes dancing. "No, there was a change of plans. I really don't know how, but they said we could go home early—and I took that chance the second I heard about it." She grinned. "And here I am."
"And I've never been happier," said Jem, taking her arm. They started walking when Faith stopped.
"My bags!" she exclaimed. "I had to leave my trunk at the station, so all I have are my two carpetbags."
Jem walked back to where the bags had been abandoned before rejoining her. She took one bag and Jem took the other.
"When did you get back?" asked Faith, after they'd begun walking, hand in hand, down the sun-soaked road.
"Didn't you get my latest letter?" asked Jem.
"No, I suppose I left before it could've reached me."
"That's alright," Jem said. "I know everything I wrote to you by heart."
"You'll have to tell me sometime," said Faith.
"I promise will," he responded. "To answer your question, I came back in March."
"Two months ago," breathed Faith.
"Some of the best two months I've spent in awhile. Well, they were the best in the sense that I was back home, back to this place. I never realized how much I love it here, and how lucky we are to call this place home."
"I know what you mean," agreed Faith, surveying the serene and familiar surroundings.
"But they were also some of the worst because you weren't here," he continued.
Faith smiled and blushed.
"And, it was also awful be—because Walt isn't here." His voice cracked, and it sounded like he was fighting back the urge to cry and failing.
Faith's smile disappeared. She squeezed his hand. "I know," she said quietly. "Nan wrote to me about that."
"And the thing is—he's been gone for almost three years, and I was just told when I got back. That's the horrible part. All of that time—years, really—I was over there, and I never knew. When I got back, everyone else had known for years, and they'd gotten used to it. But I've just barely begun to grasp the fact that he's never going to come back again."
Faith hugged him then, bags and all. When she pulled back, she saw that his eyes were indeed filled with tears, though not of joy this time. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
"No, don't ever apologize for feeling emotions, Jem. I appreciate it when men aren't afraid to express how they feel. You're human—and humans experience things and feelings they need to express. I miss Walter, too. How could I not? He's the male version of Una: dependable, caring, kind, dreamy, shy with a hidden strength and determination and courage...so many things. An impossibly dear soul. A kindred spirit, to quote your mother," she smiled.
Jem returned the smile and took her hand before beginning to walk again. "You're very good at making one feel better."
"Thank you. I try."
As they continued down the road, many a neighbor greeted Faith and claimed her attention for a little while. Few girls from the Glen had done what Faith had done—gone overseas as a nurse—and her early return surprised everyone. Luckily, they didn't run into any of their family. After finishing up the tenth conversation, Faith was eager to keep going.
They reached Rainbow Valley soon after that. Late spring was the most rewarding time to be at the valley—though it was beautiful all year round. Their magical place was coming back to life. Signs of awakening were everywhere. Faith set her bag down and walked slowly around, observing each fresh green leaf, every hesitant, fragrant flower, every little delightful nook and cranny. . .all of it had been precious and alive in her thoughts, but being here once more in person after so long, after seeing so much, she realized her memories hadn't done this place justice.
Jem watched her observe silently. "This place is as pretty as ever, isn't it?" he said.
"Pretty isn't the right word for it," replied Faith. "It's so much more than common old pretty. But gorgeous, spectacular, or marvelous don't really fit, either."
"I know what you mean."
Faith walked around, examining the trees carefully. Jem laughed when he saw what she was doing.
"Here it is," she smiled, her hand resting on a carving in the white bark of a birch tree.
J.M.B. + F.C.M.
Underneath her hand was an inscription the two of them had done ten years ago, right before Jem had left for his second year at Queen's, and Jerry his first year. Jem had always been an especial chum to her, and her to him, and that golden summer when he was sixteen and she fourteen, they'd begun to see each other as more than a brother and sister. It was right in front of this tree on the night before Jem and Jerry had left that he'd kissed her for the first time. It wasn't a kiss of longing or one that guaranteed that they'd get married in the future, but it was a sweet, sincere kiss that made them both realize they were falling for each other. Everything had continued from there. . .and now, here they were.
Faith wouldn't have minded staying longer in the valley with Jem, but she was anxious to see her family. With one last lingering look that promising the valley she would be back soon, she and Jem left.
"Jerry's latest letter told me that he came home in January," said Faith.
"Yes. He came along with Joe Milgrave. You know he and Miranda Pryor got married right before he left?"
"No!" Faith exclaimed.
"And it was my own sister—Rilla—who organized it for them!"
"Rilla did that?" Faith asked.
"Yes, she did. I tell you, Rilla's changed. Before the war she was vain and self-centered, and to be blunt, irritating. But she's grown up so much. I left my last little sister a girl, and when I came back, she was a completely different person."
"She's a woman now," said Faith easily. "She's going on twenty."
"I suppose you could say that," Jem said slowly. He was reluctant to admit that his littlest sister was an adult now. "Mother told me Walter's death hit her hard." He shook his head. "I feel really bad for her. She and Walter grew to be especial chums right before I left—and then he went a signed up—and then he was...killed."
Faith was silent for a moment. She was very rarely at a loss for words, and in this case, she was glad for it. She couldn't always trust herself to reply gracefully.
Jem remained quiet, and then his face lit up. "So, you want to surprise Jerry with your early arrival?"
"How do you know he's home?"
"He's had a bad cold lately, and much to his dismay, he's been ordered by my father to stay inside. I've had great fun enforcing that order," he grinned.
"Now don't be too hard on him!" Faith exclaimed. "My brother and I are very similar in that way. We hate being told what to do."
"Oh, I know," chortled Jem. "I saw that similarity immediately. Like brother, like sister." He saw Faith's expression and continued. "I know this would be a great surprise—maybe even get him better faster."
"Of course!" She grinned like a little girl.
They arrived at the manse five minutes later. Faith stayed on the porch, but slipped out of sight from the door and the windows. Jem knocked three times before Faith could hear a very familiar grumbling inside the house. A second later, she heard the door open and Jerry's voice. She very nearly burst with excitement at the sound of his voice, even though it was quite irritated.
"Honestly, Jem, you've checked on me and ordered me to do this and that five times today," he grumbled. "I'm doing everything you said. Stay inside, drink water, take that horrible medicine every two hours...what now?"
"Hello to you, too," replied Jem easily. "I wasn't coming by to check on you, but I'm glad to hear you're following directions."
"Oh. Well then why are you here?" he asked, surprised.
"Where's everyone else?" Jem inquired.
"Dad was called to be with an old lady on her deathbed, Mother Rose and Una are at Ingleside, Bruce is upstairs sleeping, and I, incase you were wondering, have been right here—inside—for days."
"Well, I think I have something to make you feel better," said Jem with a grin. He motioned for Faith to come over, but it was too late. She'd already dropped her bags and thrown herself at her brother.
Brother and sister were caught up in an excited, giddy embrace. Jerry finally set his sister down and placed his hands on her shoulders, wearing a look of bewilderment.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"What a way to be welcomed home by my brother," said Faith in mock anger. "There was a change of plans, and the hospital didn't need us anymore. They began sending us home in groups, and here I am."
Jerry simply hugged his sister again. Faith clutched him tightly, savoring the feeling. He suddenly stiffened and set her down. Faith looked confused.
"I'm sick," he laughed. "I wasn't thinking."
"Oh, Jerry, do you think I care?" said Faith, planting her hands on her hips. "I'd hug you even if you had some highly contagious deadly disease."
Jem cleared his throat. Jerry shook his head. The two exchanged a look. Faith either chose to ignore the look or didn't see it because she ushered herself inside and upstairs in search of Bruce.
She found her littlest brother sound asleep in his room that he shared with Carl and Jerry. He'd grown and his face had lost some of the round chubbiness of a little boy, the sharper features of a pre-adolescent replacing it. She sat on the edge of his bed and gently smoothed his curls out of the way. Could he really be nearly eleven? she thought as she stroked his hair. He stirred and blinked sleepily, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him.
"Faith?" he asked, not sure if he was dreaming.
"Hello Bruce," she smiled, and held her arms open just in time for her little brother to throw himself into them.
"Oh, Faith!" he exclaimed. "You're ho—why are you home?" he asked.
Faith's laugh rang out and she hugged her brother tighter.
"Can I just hug you for a moment?" she whispered into his hair.
He didn't say anything; he just hugged her tighter.
A/N: Well, here is the first chapter of my attempt at a true FF story. I hope you enjoyed it…please let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!