Vailstream Valley

March 5th

Vardentown

“You ever seen anything quite like it before, Miss Adeline?” Jeffery Winston asked.

“No, Sir,” Adeline Knightley replied, looking across the rolling hills of Vailstream Valley just sprinkled with the first hints of budding white wildflowers. She felt as if she had been reunited with an old friend seeing Winston’s wrinkled countenance where she had run into him on her way into town to run errands.

Vailstream Valley, nestled gracefully in the midst of three soaring snow-capped peaks—the location of which is unimportant so long as you know it is remote enough to be untouched by modern technology and the climate moderate with four equal seasons—is a place that nobody ever comes and nobody ever leaves. If you were born in the area surrounding Vardentowne you stayed there, had kids to maintain the never-changing population and then you died there.

Until recently, this had been the case anyway. But the last few years had provided an influx of newcomer’s escaping their fast-paced modern lives for the quiet solitude of the mist-filled valley, lush with trees and ferns, orchards and wildflowers, streams and ponds.

“How long you been in the Valley now, little darlin’?” Winston—that was what he preferred to be called—asked, turning his face from the hills spread before them to look at her.

Her reply was unhurried. “About three weeks now.”

Adeline Knightley was the newest of these interlopers. She was to take over the inheritance bequeathed her, her Grandfather’s orchard and vineyard—Applewood Meadows. It wasn’t that she was interested in farming or agriculture, or even rural life—rather that she was escaping the soul-sucking corporate city life.

“That’ll mean your gramps has been gone about six weeks then, surely,” he nodded to himself. “I could swear it was just yesterday I was standing here watching the first blooms of Spring with him.”

“He always wrote to tell me how beautiful it was in Spring,” she said, her tone wistful. “But I never made it here to see while he was alive.”

“Nah,” Winston said with a half-smile, glancing at her then back to the road. “If you’d been here… well, I woulda remembered freckles like that, surely.” He drawled out the first syllable of the last word, which sounded a lot more like shore than sure.

Winston had been there when she’d arrived in Vardentowne, picking her up from the bus stop. Adeline’s Uncle, Winston had explained, had been delayed in the city—indefinitely, no doubt. He was not at all interested in owning or running an orchard and vineyard much less visiting the one he grew up on. Even to see his niece. He had requested that the old farmer pick Adeline up and help her get acquainted with the town and her new property.

That Winston recognized her that day was no surprise, she had known he was her grandfather’s best friend. George Hollis had talked about the old farmer constantly in his letters.

“They’re hard to miss,” she replied absently and not without a hint of resentment towards what she knew littered her face like spots on a leopard.

“I knew it was you right off though,” Winston continued. “Your Gramps and I was best friends, surely. He tol’ me all about them freckles and showed me all your school pictures. He sure was proud of his little sunshine girl. Strange your folks never made it out here.”

Adeline aimed for diplomacy. “My Dad doesn’t care for the country.”

“Aw, you don’t gotta be coy with me.” Winston barked out a short laugh. “That was a joke. I know all about your pa and his drink. There weren’t no secrets between your Gramps and me, no. He even let me read some of those letters you wrote him. A shame though, ’bout your folks. I don’t suppose they’ll come out to visit now that you’re here will they? Woulda been nice to see your ma again, surely. I ain’t seen her since she was younger ’an you are now.”

“I honestly don’t know if they’ll visit,” Adeline answered. “I don’t speak with them much anymore.”

“I don’t blame ya for that, Miss Adeline,” Winston said with a frown. “I don’t blame ya for that.”

Adeline let the conversation trail off at that and once again turned her eyes to the sprawling hills around her. The winter’s snow was nearly gone by now, except for small pockets of glittering white huddled together in the lowest, most shaded parts of the valley. The smooth hills were covered in dry brown grass. Yet, if you looked closely enough you could see patches of vibrant green pushing through to greet the early spring sun. The valley was separated in the middle by a slow-moving river that sparkled in the light of mid-morning. The eastern side of the valley was all smooth hills and wildflowers, with a few sparse trees surrounding Vardentowne shading it from the view of the highway. The western side of the river was steeper hills, covered in dense forest.

Winston and his wife Celeste had been the first people to make Adeline feel at home in the Valley. Celeste was a kindly sort of woman, with a mischievous sparkle of youth in her cloudy blue eyes that hinted at a great sense of humour. She had welcomed Addie with open arms, insisting she be allowed to come over and help Adeline get her new home into a liveable state. With reluctance, Adeline had agreed.

She’d been invited to dinner at their house that night and the entire evening was spent regaling Adeline with stories of the townsfolk and their many idiosyncrasies. Sam the grocer whistled a lot, which seemed innocent at first but it became rather disruptive when it happened during a town meeting or Sunday church service. Teddy the postman wore shorts every day of his life, even when making his deliveries in the dead of winter. And Louis the cook down at the old watering hole suffered from an unfortunate lazy eye.

Spending time with the Winston’s was the happiest Adeline could remember herself feeling for a long time. Their kindness and warmth erased any anxiety she might have had about her decision to move here. She left that evening feeling there was nowhere else in the world she was meant to be.

The next morning she’d awoken to find both Celeste and Winston in her kitchen unpacking fresh biscuits and homemade jam.

“She insisted on comin’,” Winston had explained. “Says you oughta meet the folk ‘round here and I oughta do the introducin’.”

“But your kitchen still needs fixing up in the meantime, darlin’,” Celeste had interjected, “So that’s what I’m here for.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you—” Adeline had mumbled around a mouthful of jam smothered biscuit.

“But you didn’t ask,” Celeste had said with a smile, “I insisted.”

“But—” she’d tried to argue.

“Consider it a housewarming gift then.”

Adeline had finally agreed. It was one thing to be polite and decline help, but quite another to refuse a gift from new friends.

The next day Winston paraded her around Main Street as though she had been his own granddaughter, not George Hollis’. She felt grateful for the companionship. She was introduced to all the characters mentioned the previous night, Sam the whistling grocer, Clarence the stock-boy, Teddy the shorts-wearing postman and Louis the Cook at The Tavern. Prepared as she was, she felt she had done a wonderful job of ignoring Louis’ lazy eye situation. She also met many others including Agnes the florist, Bertha the bus driver and Mary-lee the bartender/waitress at The Tavern.

“What brings you into town today then, Miss Adeline?” Winston asked, stirring her from her recollections of her first days here. She felt so comfortable now; it was as if she’d always been in the Valley.

“I need to visit the clinic,” she explained. “King Arthur had a brush with some barbed wire this morning and I’d like an antiseptic stronger than what Sam’s got in the General Store. I was hoping the doctor would be able to sell me something medical grade.”

King Arthur was her grandfather’s horse—actually her’s now, she supposed. He was a three-year-old white gelding with fine grey spotting. She remembered when Grandpa George had purchased him. He had let Adeline name the horse through their correspondence and she had chosen the title character of her favourite stories—Arthurian legend. King Arthur had stayed at Winston’s farm since grandfather became too sick to care for him, but she and the horse had taken to each other upon introduction and she’d brought him back to Applewood meadows with her.

Winston placed a hand at her elbow and guided her away from the platform overlooking the Valley that they’d been standing on. “I can take ya, darlin’.”

“If you’re not busy,” she smiled.

“Never too busy for my best friend’s little girl.” He nodded, and they made their way through the town to the clinic.

Vardentowne was like something out of a storybook. Pastel houses with Victorian porches and white gingerbread molding led into the charming town center, comprised of quaint brick or plaster shop fronts with mullion windows and fanciful, hand-painted signs. Some even featured columned porches and decorative shutters on the windows.

The clinic was located in the center of main street.

“Mornin’, Miss Kamal,” Winston greeted the bronze-skinned, blacked-haired girl behind the reception desk. She was wearing scrubs and a stethoscope which indicated she was a lot more educated than a simple receptionist, but a practice this small probably wouldn’t allow the doctor enough space for more than one employee. A plaque on the wall behind boasting a medical degree with the name Dr. Richard Ford on it suggested she was not the doctor either.

She eyed him sharply from behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “Good Morning, Overseer Winston.”

“Oh, just Winston, girl, surely,” he winced. This was not news to Adeline—Jeffery Winston was the Town Council Overseer. He had been for nearly 50 years, unanimously voted in every election year. Vardentown was not large enough to have a mayor, so instead, they had a council that met monthly, led by the overseer, that decided on important town issues and bylaws. He didn’t like himself considered as any different from the rest of the townsfolk, and he didn’t have a whole lot of power except what years of respect had earned him.

The girl shrugged. “Well, you’ve skipped your last three checkups and I don’t expect that to change anytime soon... I assumed you to be here on Council business.”

Adeline laughed at this, or perhaps it was the shameful blush that crept over Winston’s ears at her reproachful tone. The sharp black eyes jumped over to her for the first time, narrowing critically.

“It’s close enough to council business,” Winston’s muttered reply was sheepish. “This here’s Adeline Knightley, George’s granddaughter.”

Adeline extended her hand. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Kamal Rana,” she said, giving Adeline’s hand a firm shake. A smile finally broke her face now that she was satisfied there were no patients in need of care. The smile contained a surprising warmth in contrast to the sharpness of her previous gaze. “You’re from The City then?”

“Yes,” Adeline replied, “you are as well?”

“What gave it away?” Kamal arched a sarcastic brow, but her eyes were not without humour. “You don’t see a lot of brown people around here. I might be the only one in the whole valley, but I’ve heard rumours of a barber in Eastlake...”

“It was the education that gave it away more than anything.” Adeline pointed to another degree on the wall, this one a Registered Nurse.

Kamal followed her gaze to the framed papers on the wall. “Rich and I were in school together. He grew up here, and when he moved back to open his practice he insisted I join him.”

“Rich?” Adeline asked.

“Dr. Ford,” Winston explained.

“I’ll suppose you’ll want to meet him,” Kamal said, “I’ll grab him.”

“Odd girl,” Winston said when she disappeared into the back of the clinic.

“How so?” Adeline opened her eyes in feigned innocence.

“Well—” he stuttered.

“Mr. Winston,” called a deep, warm voice. “So good to see you!”

The face that emerged from the back was handsome in a classic sort of way. He had warm brown eyes, brown hair speckled with silver on the sides, a rough five’ o’clock shadow and a generous smile. He shook Winston’s hand heartily before turning to Adeline and gracing her with a smile that brought a blush to her cheeks. “And you must be Miss Knightley, your grandfather told me all about you.”

She laughed and shook her offered hand. “That seems to be a bit of a theme—you all seem to know me yet I know none of you.”

He nodded and flashed another pleasant smile, then glanced at Kamal before continuing. “Well, that hardly seems fair. Anything you want to know, ask away. Anytime.”

“I will, absolutely,” Adeline replied.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “Maybe... over coffee tomorrow evening?”

Adeline blinked, glancing down at his hand, then at Kamal’s hand, devoid of any rings. She had assumed there was something there based on Kamal’s story about moving from The City just for a job in a small clinic... but who was she to judge? She had her own reasons for wanting to get away from The City and they had nothing to do with following a man.

“S-sure, why not?” she replied.

Blindsided as she was, she found no reason to say no. He was good-looking, educated and nice, if a bit forward.

“Do you know where Gemma’s is?” he asked.

“Gemma’s?” She blinked.

“I’ll show ’er the way, surely,” Winston offered, looking between them and beaming.

“Gemma’s is a Tea House,” Kamal said to her, the only one able to correctly diagnose her bewilderment. That was the moment she decided she and Kamal were two of a kind.

“Thank you,” she said so only Kamal could hear, with a grateful smile.

Kamal leaned in even further, to whisper. “We’re not an item.”

“Also helpful,” she murmured back, feeling as though she and Kamal may be kindred spirits.

“That’s settled,” the doctor announced. “How can we help you then, Adeline?”

Upon leaving the clinic they encountered Celeste coming back from a visit with Agnes the florist. Both Winston’s insisted on escorting Adeline back to her truck. She fell into step beside them happily while listening to the comforting banter of a couple who have been together far too long and still not long enough.

“I tell you that girl of Walter’s is his niece,” Celeste argued as they walked, breaking from her polished etiquette enough to let her polite tone become fierce.

“And I say she’s his daughter, comes down every summer for a few weeks, sent by her mother, surely,” Winston said. “Ye can see the woman when she comes if ye’re lucky enough to catch her.”

“That’s Walter’s sister!” Celeste cried.

Adeline smiled and asked, “Who’s Walter?”

“Walter lives down on the beach and runs the bait and tackle shop,” Celeste informed her. “He’s the cantankerous sort, not a lot of friends. Most folk simply can’t stand ’im and I can’t say as I blame them. That newcomer—Elliot is his name—Winston did you introduce our Addie to Elliot yet? One of the only bachelor’s in town and a handsome one too.” Celeste gives Adeline a knowing wink. “Anyway, he sure took a shine to Walter, not sure as to why.”

“Oh, Elliot’ll be too late, surely,” Winston said when a satisfied smile. “Addie’s got a date with our own Dr. Ford.”

“Well, I’ll be!” Celeste exclaimed, “You can’t do any better than that young man.”

“I didn’t come here for that,” Adeline said softly, blushing.

“Oh, Jeffery, we’ve made the poor thing blush,” Celeste took pity on Adeline and patted her arm. “You’ll have to forgive us old folk. We get all caught up in the affairs of young’uns sometimes. It keeps us youthful.”

“When I have something to report, you’ll be the first to know,” Adeline promised.

Celeste gave Adeline’s arm another squeeze. “You’re a good girl.”

Adeline stood a little taller. In her upbringing and subsequent adult life, it was not very often she received any kind of praise for the people who mattered. In Vardentowne, if anybody’s approval mattered it was the Winston’s, those who were closest to her grandfather.