Chapter Thirteen

The day of the Avonlea skating party was everything a day for a skating party should be— brilliant, crisp, windless, and just cold enough to make a vigorous skate around the pond seem irresistibly inviting. Not only that, the much- wished-for snow had fallen, turning the fields into smooth, glittering carpets and topping the evergreens with jaunty caps of white. Into the sheds went the buggies and out came the cutters and sleighs, including the big cutter from the King barn.

Now sleighs were arriving at the pond from all over the neighborhood. Frisky horses were stamping their feet and releasing great clouds of breath. Children were tumbling out from under sleigh rugs and racing towards the benches set up around the ice, their skates bouncing on their shoulders. People were milling on the shore and whizzing about the pond. Some did twirls and pirouettes and others gamely scraped their way back and forth, holding onto each other for support.

The King sleigh, hauled out, polished up, and hitched to the team, pulled up in the middle of all this. Alec drove. Blair, Janet, Hetty and Sara were aboard, presenting a gratifyingly united front. A firm peace treaty, or at least a lasting truce, had been hammered out between Blair and Hetty. Blair even helped Hetty down from the sleigh, making a great show of gallantry as he did so. Janet, getting out herself, lifted the rug from Sara’s lap.

“Sara, how are you?” Janet inquired, a bit anxious about how Sara had managed the ride. This was really Sara’s first time outside since the accident. Nothing short of total unconsciousness could have kept Sara away from the skating party.

There was no question about how Sara was. She was excited, delighted and as eager to get over to the ice as every other child in Avonlea. Lamentably, with her leg still in a cast, she couldn’t go anywhere without a great deal of assistance. Her father hoisted her up effortlessly in his arms.

“I’ll take your luggage,” he said to Janet with a grin. Blair, like Sara, had been on his own too long, and was rediscovering the joys of family fun.

Crunching through the snow, Blair carried Sara to a bench with a prime view of the pond. There, he settled her comfortably, with her cast propped up out of harm’s way. When he was done, he smiled at her fondly.

“Well, young lady, you certainly scared some sense into your Aunt Hetty and me. Now, you come back to Montreal whenever you’re ready. Just don’t leave it too long.”

Although Blair couldn’t neglect his business affairs any longer, he had been completely won over to Sara’s point of view. Blair was going back to Montreal alone and leaving it up to Sara to decide when she was ready to uproot herself from Avonlea. Besides, Sara couldn’t go anywhere very well until her leg was back in use again.

Hetty bustled over with the fur rug and tucked it solicitously around Sara. It seemed beyond Hetty’s ability to be anywhere near her niece without finding a way to fuss.

And, naturally, the Kings’ arrival at the pond hadn’t passed unnoticed—especially by those in Avonlea who concerned themselves with everybody’s business but their own. Mrs. Potts and Mrs. Ray had arrived early, claiming to be interested in the exercise. Exchanging a significant glance, they immediately skated over to where Sara sat with her father and her aunt. They knew all about Constable Jeffries being called, of course, and the frantic search for Sara. All of it had been spiced with the most delicious rumors about fighting between Blair and Hetty, but nowhere could the two ladies glean any real details of the squabble. Now, if they poked in just the right spot, some juicy information might shake loose.

“Why, Blair Stanley,” Mrs. Potts twittered in that fake, sugary tone guaranteed to set a person’s teeth on edge. “Isn’t it wonderful how nothing was proven against you? I must say, we’ve followed your case with such interest.”

When she wanted to, Mrs. Potts had a way of saying things that could make even an angel seem black with guilt. Hetty’s mouth grew prunish.

“Of course you have, Clara Potts,” Hetty rasped, deliberately diverting the woman away from Blair.

“Good day to you,” Mrs. Potts said, forced to acknowledge Hetty, with whom she was not on the best of terms. The two had exchanged words before, none of them to Clara Potts’s advantage.

“Good day,” added Mrs. Ray, in grudging support of her companion.

Blair, far from being annoyed by their insinuations, doffed his hat with exaggerated courtesy and favored both women with an impudent grin.

“Good day to you, ladies,” he returned pleasantly, not even bothering to disguise the irony in his voice.

Transfixed by Hetty’s stare and Blair’s brash good humor, the two women realized they had come to the wrong place to fish for a scandal. Faces stiff, Mrs. Ray and Mrs. Potts backed up and lumbered away across the ice. They could hardly wait to get out of earshot to break into sniffs of censure and disparagement.

After the two women had vanished into the swirling crowd, Sara looked up at her father. There was a twinkle in her eye.

“I said all the people in Avonlea were interesting, Papa. I didn’t say they were all nice.”

Hetty, pleased at the rout of her old antagonists, turned to tug the rug over Sara’s knees.

“Now, you keep yourself covered there, Sara. We don’t want you catching pneumonia on top of all this.”

Hetty was getting back to her old form, seeing a calamity behind every bush. Sara smiled back at her affectionately, then spotted Felicity and Cecily, who had come earlier with Olivia, chasing each other merrily among the other children.

Then, amazingly, a long, thin figure appeared on the pond, legs rubbery, arms flapping, skates slipping and sliding in a desperate effort to keep the wearer upright. The figure was Jasper Dale, twice as ridiculous on ice as he was on dry land, yet bravely daring to appear before all of Avonlea. Such a sight hadn’t been seen within living memory, and everyone stared as Jasper tilted sideways, skidded in a half-circle, caught his heel and finally fell into a heap right at Sara’s feet.

“Oh, hello, Sara Stanley,” he said cheerfully from an inch above the ice. A year ago, Jasper would have died of mortification at making such a spectacle of himself. Now, Sara and Olivia had given him the courage to fall down and not mind a bit.

“Hello, Mr. Dale,” Sara smiled. She was used to Jasper’s ways and hardly blinked when he collapsed beside her.

By dint of great effort, Jasper got himself to his elbows and brushed some of the snow off his clothes.

“So, how’s the, uh, leg?”

“Oh, much better, thank you.”

Now Hetty finally appeared to notice the man who was sprawled before her. If anyone had looked at her closely, they might even have suspected a glimmer of tolerance in her eye.

“Jasper,” she said, with less than her usual asperity. “This is a surprise. When was the last time you attended the, uh, Avonlea skating party?”

A word from Hetty, and Jasper was thrown into confusion again.

“Oh, well, I haven’t been s-s-sk—”

“Skating,” Hetty supplied, thinking Jasper might strangle on the spot if she waited for him to get the word out himself.

“—skating in a dog’s age. I just came to see Sara.”

This fooled no one, least of all Hetty.

“And Olivia, too, no doubt,” Hetty added. “Well, she’s over there.”

With an air of making a great concession, Hetty pointed to Olivia, who was halfway across the pond, talking to some of her friends. At the same moment, Olivia spotted Jasper struggling to get up. She immediately laughed and beckoned him to come over.

For Jasper, this was a major challenge, but he faced it stalwartly. Rising from the ice, he stood teetering on the thin, silver blades of his skates.

“Bye,” he said to Sara and her party.

Without falling once, Jasper wobbled all the way over to Olivia and offered his arm. Olivia grasped it firmly, doing her best to provide a firm support for Jasper without in the least appearing to. Swaying precariously, they skated away, with Hetty watching every movement.

“Sara, will you look at that?” she sniffed. “I must say, Olivia’s quite forward, taking his arm like that. Hmm, you’d almost think they were courting.”

“I think they are courting, Aunt Hetty,” Sara replied sagely and with high humor.

“What?”

But before Hetty could provide any prickly opinions regarding Jasper Dale, Alec arrived. He held out his hand for Hetty to join him. Alec was feeling jovial, as any man would after the way the family disagreements had worked themselves out.

“Come on, Hetty, don’t be an old stick in the mud.”

“I, I don’t skate,” Hetty shot back in alarm, for Alec, she saw, was in a reckless mood.

“It’s never to late to learn. Come on, you don’t need skates when you’re with me.”

Before Hetty could resist, Alec had her by the arm and up on the ice. Ignoring her squawks, he swung her round on the slick surface, laughing heartily. Though no youngster, Alec was a lot like Felix. He still liked a chance to tease his older sister.

“Aunt Hetty had better watch out,” cried Sara, as Hetty executed a skidding arc, her skirts flying out behind her. “She’s liable to break her own leg.”

Hetty was a sight indeed, trying madly to hang onto her dignity in front of all Avonlea while at the same time hissing fiercely under her breath for Alec to stop. Grinning at her, Alec continued to swing Hetty until he got so carried away he hit a patch of rough ice with his foot and lost his grip completely.

Sara’s mouth popped open as she saw her Aunt Hetty whirl around one more time on her own momentum, her high-booted feet frantically scrabbling under her. Her boots got no purchase at all on the ice. The next thing Sara knew, Hetty was seated flat on her behind, skidding sideways halfway across the pond on her bottom, coming to rest not a yard away from Olivia and Jasper and Mrs. Potts. Her skirts were tangled up around her knees, her hat was hanging off over one ear, and her expression would have frightened a crocodile.

In an instant, a crowd of other skaters closed around Hetty, helping her to her feet and roaring with laughter. Even Sara gave way to a fit of giggles, especially seeing how sheepish her Uncle Alec looked, and how quickly he took to his skates as soon as Hetty’s ruffled figure pushed through the ring of spectators, searching for him.

Blair, also very guilty of enjoying Hetty’s tumble, turned to Sara.

“May your father have the honor of skating with you?”

“How?” asked Sara incredulously. With her leg in a cast, she couldn’t even shift from the bench.

“Ah, like this!”

Lightly, Blair picked Sara up and deposited her in the little wooden sleigh he had provided as a special surprise for his daughter. It was painted bright red, with slender runners, and a high, curved handle behind.

“Gently...yes,” Blair assured her.

With an ease and grace that outdid everyone else on the pond, Blair got behind the sled and pushed Sara almost magically over the ice.

“All right, you’re in control,” he laughed, weaving right and left just as Sara directed.

Beaming, Sara made sure he pushed her past every one of her friends and everyone who had ever tried to taunt her. She did have a father, a handsome—innocent father—and she wanted everyone to see how terribly proud of him she was.

The crowd opened readily for the sled, shouting and waving as Sara flew by. Sara waved back, ecstatic at having her father by her side, the familiar people of Avonlea around her, and her Aunt Hetty, brushed off and restored to good temper by Uncle Alec, actually smiling at Blair. Sara didn’t know what the future held and, for the moment, didn’t care. She was taking her life one day at a time—and today was absolutely perfect.

 

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