LITMIR.BIZ

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was an Agatha I would liked to have known: Agatha laughing on the Forgotten Bay beach with Johann, the two of them encased in the shapeless sacking that served for bathing suits at that time; Agatha giggling behind a large birthday cake covered with tiny candles, how many I couldn’t count; Agatha and Johann in a canoe, shading their eyes from a hot summer sun; and the two of them sitting on a picnic table, Johann’s arm around Agatha, her head on his shoulder, eyes blissfully closed.

      I chuckled at a picture of Johann, the Hunter, that was almost a photocopy of the one of Great-grandpa Joe with his trophy deer. Decked out in a worsted jacket, laced knee-high boots with a porkpie on his head, a triumphant Baron stood, exactly as Great-grandpa Joe had stood, leaning on a rifle barrel in front of the verandah of Three Deer Point with an Indian guide at his side. But instead of three dead deer hanging from the verandah hooks, there were four. It made me wonder if the Baron wasn’t trying to outdo his father-in-law, something which, given my great-grandfather’s legendary ego, would have only put him in Great-grandpa Joe’s bad books.

      There was nothing of value or interest in the remaining contents of the cookie tin, so I turned to the next one. A top layer of more useless letters, but underneath lay a promising collection of small leather-bound books. My hopes jumped when I read the word “Diary” embossed on the cover of the top book. If William J. Watson had ever been Aunt Aggie’s lover, then surely she’d have written about it in her diary.

      I easily unlocked its brass clasp after a few well placed prods with a nail file and with bated breath opened the stiff cover. But it was with mixed emotions that I read the words written on the inside leaf: Diary of Baroness Agatha von Wichtenstein.

      Although it finally confirmed beyond a doubt the identity of Aunt Aggie’s husband, I thought it unlikely my great-aunt would write about former lovers after she’d married. Still, William J. Watson might have been a friend of the Baron’s. And I was very curious to know what had caused the end of their marriage. So, with the tin of diaries in hand, I retreated to the living room, threw another log on the fire and sank into the chesterfield.

      It took me until the early hours of the morning to read the collection of five journals, one for each year of their short marriage. In the end I knew the tragedy, which no doubt shaped the remainder of my great-aunt’s long life, a tragedy that began without warning.

      June 3, 1915, Montreal

      Today is the happiest day of my life. What a common statement, but it fits my mood perfectly, for today I married Johann, my sweet wonderful Johann. At last I can say I am the Baroness von Wichtenstein, although Father says I shouldn’t use it because of the war. While Father is still not reconciled to Johann being German, he kept it to himself. He was as polite and friendly as any father of the bride should be to his new son-in-law. Life is truly wonderful. I thank God for giving me the strength to forgive Johann. And I bless Johann for his perseverance. If he had not blocked my way onto the ship, I never would have discovered how much he truly loves me. How silly I was to rip up his last letter without reading its tender loving words. But he rewrote them on our wedding day, and I’ve hidden them away in a secret place so they will never be lost to me again.

      And Johann’s words had remained safe until the day I’d dropped the wedding picture.

      July 21, 1915, Three Deer Point

      At last all our baggage has arrived. I thought travelling around Europe with a carriage load of trunks was difficult enough. Little did I know how difficult it would be to move to Three Deer Point. Our goods have taken a month to travel from Montreal. The railroad lost them for a time, the wagon bringing them from Somerset broke an axle on the Mountain road which then took a week to repair. While it was fun to wear Snow Flower’s Indian dresses, I will be so glad to return to my finery. Johann, on the other hand, quite enjoyed playing Indian. I think it is with some regret that he has returned to his civilized suits. I’m so glad Johann has fallen in love with this wild country. I was worried he wouldn’t.

      At first, I assumed that the newly married couple, following the Harris tradition of spending summers at Three Deer Point, would return to my great-aunt’s hometown of Toronto with the onset of fall. But I was wrong. As autumn moved into winter, they stayed, and there they remained as the years unfolded.

      February 12, 1916

      I never thought Three Deer Point could be so beautiful. We are locked in a land of snow and ice, completely cut off from all civilized life, including the precious letters from my family and friends. Our neighbour Dieter says it will be late April before the roads are passable again. In the meantime, Johann has become the hunter of the family. Sometimes I join him, but usually he spends his days with Rushing Bear trekking through the deep snow on snow shoes, searching for dinner. I have come to quite enjoy venison steaks and stewed hare.

      April 3, 1916

      I will be glad when the roads are finally passable, and we can have visitors. It has been a long winter and a lonely one, with Johann gone most of the day. One of the first things we will do is raise cattle. With our own source of meat, Johann won’t have to devote so much time to hunting. I thought and hoped I was with child, but this morning put an end to our desires. Thank goodness I kept my hopes to myself. This would have hurt Johann terribly.

      July 5, 1916

      We had a wonderful picnic on the big island today on an absolutely perfect summer day. It took five boat loads to ferry over everything, including our guests, Edith, brother John in his new uniform, and the Vogts with their beautiful baby boy. Such a marvellous change having people around after the long, lonely winter. But with so many friends fighting in France, our visitors are few. Snow Flower brought her youngest sister, Summer Wind, to help out. Snow Flower would like me to hire her sister, but I have no need of another servant at the moment. Still, she is very sweet, so I think I will keep her in mind for when Johann and I have our child. I pray to God it happens soon. Johann is getting impatient. Must ensure the continuity of the von Wichtensteins, you know.

      December 18, 1917

      I believe I can now safely say I am with child. It is three months since my monthlies stopped. Johann is ecstatic. He is so concerned about my health that he spends every waking moment by my side. I’m loving it. He’s not paid this much attention since the first year of our marriage. But I really don’t blame him. There is much to do in keeping Three Deer Point thriving, and of course the lure of the wild hinterland is hard to ignore. Johann can’t say no to the next bend in the river, but must follow it until he has reached the end. Unfortunately, the end sometimes takes weeks before he finally remembers to return to me. I hope with this child he will remain closer to home.

      March 19, 1918

      I threw that harlot out of the house today. I don’t care if it’s still winter. I can’t take another minute of that Irish Jezebel. How dare she think she can have Johann. Edith warned me to watch out. She said that when men like Johann succumb to their animal instincts as he did with that servant in Germany, they will be tempted to transgress again. I won’t allow it. Even if I am heavy with child. To punish him, I will close my door to him till after the birth. Now I will have to find a replacement for Beth. Pity, she was such a good servant.

      April 3, 1918

      I can’t find my child. I don’t know where he’s gone, such a beautiful little boy. Johann says he’s gone away, but Johann’s lying. That hussy took him. My baby will come back to me. I am his mother.

      June 30, 1918

      I can finally say it—my baby’s dead, poor little Johann. These past months have been so dreadful. Without Johann’s calm and caring presence I never would have made it. I love him dearly. He is my life. We are young. We are healthy. Children will come.

      April 21, 1919

      Today we have been blessed, Johann and I, with the birth of a beautiful little girl. She is whole. She is gorgeous. Johann says she looks just like me, but I know that is his way of saying I love you. We are both so very pleased and relieved that there was no mishap. Now we must find the perfect name for such an enchanting child. We have both decided that at least one of her names must be Summer Wind, for she has been a godsend during my long

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