August 6, 1859

August 6, 1859

Dear Safiya,

How did you know I went on a picnic with him?  I do not believe that I told you that.  That’s very strange, I hope you do realize that.

As soon as the MacJohns left for St. Paul (they’re not coming back for a few days, by the way), Duncan decided to do all of the chores.  He’s a very friendly person when he’s not around many people.  He can cook magnificently, much better than I can.  He told me that he had watched me do all of the work for too long and that I needed a break.  I replied that he shouldn’t do all of the work, that I should at least put away the laundry, but he insisted on doing everything.  I must admit, it was nice to have someone else do all of the work for a change.

As soon as all of the household chores were done, Duncan said to me, “Now, you had better go and put on a coat, because it’s chillier than I thought it would be today.”

“Why?  Where are we going?” I asked.

He winked at me.  “It’s a secret.”  I really do not like secrets, but I decided to go along with it anyway.  I would probably be able to badger it out of him beforehand, anyway.

However, even though I asked him where we were going numerous times, Duncan would not tell me where we were going!  It was very aggravating, and I almost gave up on him entirely.  It was cold and we had walked along the river a couple of miles, and we were almost to the part where the undergrowth becomes too thick and we can’t get through.  I told him that, and he just laughed and told me to wait.

By then we had gotten to the undergrowth, and I had all but turned around and headed back home, but Duncan took hold of my arm and told me to wait, that we were almost there.  Then he veered off to the left, as the river was on the right, and pushed a bush aside, and there was a path!  He told me that he had been making a path over there, because he had seen a lovely little clearing from the other side of the river that you couldn’t get to because of the undergrowth.  It must have been such hard work, since most of the plants there had thorns.

I followed Duncan down the path and was amazed at what I saw.  The clearing was so beautiful!  It was lined with berry bushes, and there were little pink and blue and yellow flowers all over the place.  I was almost afraid to step on them, but Duncan showed me that even though they were small, they were strong little flowers that weren’t harmed from being stepped on.

I had been wondering what we were going to do in this clearing, since he hadn’t brought anything with us, we were three miles from town, five miles from our house, and I was absolutely ravished.  I asked him, and he replied, “Well, we are going to have a picnic.”

I couldn’t believe it.  “Really?  I haven’t had a picnic in years.”

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing that I came here,” he smiled, his eyes laughing.  When he went to the bushes and got out a basket full of delicious food and a blanket, I couldn’t help but laugh.

The picnic itself was amazing.  It was everything I had ever wanted and more.  The food was simple, but somehow it was better than I could have ever made it.  We finished it quickly, since we were both hungry.  Then we just sat there and talked.

“How old are you, Duncan?” I asked.

He smiled.  “I just turned nineteen a couple of months ago.”

I was surprised.  “You look older!  I thought you were five and twenty, at least.”

He pouted.  “I’m hurt.  I’m not that old!  I graduated high school a little early, I just finished getting my teaching certificate a few months ago.  When school starts in a few weeks, I’ll take whatever job they have so that when I get paid I’ll be able to get out of your hair.”

“What if I don’t want you to be out of my hair?” I demanded.

Duncan laughed at this.  “Well, I’m sure the MacJohns don’t really like me staying in their home without asking and without paying.”

“Of course you’re paying.  You’re helping me with chores!  Doesn’t that count?”

He laughed again.  “Oh, Little Lucy, only to you.  Now come on.  We’re going to go home and light a fire and have as much hot chocolate as we can drink without getting sick.”

“I bet I can beat you,” I replied.

He raised an eyebrow at me.  “Oh can you?  I have to admit, I am a fantastic hot chocolate drinker.”

“I’ll race you home,” I said, jumping up and running down the path.

Even though he had to fold the blanket and put it in the basket, he still beat me home.

Sincerely, Lucy