White Noise

Previously

Dear Stella,

Well, it finally happened. I shouldn't be surprised, really; it was bound to eventually. Walter, the gentleman who owns the ranch land down the river, stopped by unexpectedly. Apparently he's going down to Edmeston for a few weeks to visit his daughter, and wanted to know if I needed anything from the big city while he was down there.

(Yes, I know. Laugh all you want. When the closest town has four hundred people, even Edmeston seems like a burgeoning metropolis.)

In any event, I was not expecting visitors. The farm is so out of the way that I rarely get them. So when he found me chopping wood in one of your old floral dresses, I imagine it was quite the shock. He handled it better than father did, to his credit. He didn't say anything, or at least not to my face. That said, gossip travels fast in a place like this, and when I visited town just a few days later I confirmed that my reputation as "bumbling but well meaning city boy" has been thoroughly destroyed. I don't think they know what to think of me. Nobody has been outright hostile (yet), but they've all given me the Look. Well, if the secret's out, I suppose I can at least stop wearing that thrice-damned suit when I go into town.

In better news, the farmstead is slowly coming together. The cabin has been rebuilt and furnished and I've carved out a path to the river and built a small fishing dock. It has been difficult work but rewarding. You would laugh to see that I have become quite the amateur angler. Not only has it been a much welcomed source of fresh food, but I've found it to be a wonderfully relaxing hobby. I have also been able to alleviate the worst of my financial issues by selling my excess timber and fish in town. I was sorely hoping that I would have crops planted by now, but any progress is good progress. At this rate, I imagine I will have to settle for fishing and foraging through the winter, as the planting season is almost at its end and I have yet to even break ground on the fallow fields.

Enough about me though; how have you been? You must nearly be back from your honeymoon by now. You must tell me about it in your next letter. I'm sure you are looking forward to getting settled in at your husband's estate. Hopefully next year the farm will be in a fine enough state to host guests and you can come visit. I miss you dearly, and look forward to your next letter.

Your sister,

Eveline

Dear Stella,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have arrived safely at the claim, much to father's dismay, I'm sure. Though I suppose he really doesn't care what happens to me, so long as I'm not "embarrassing the family". You don't want to hear me complain about that, though. The countryside here is very beautiful. My new home is nestled in a forest at the base of mighty snow-capped peaks. Spring here is cool, though I've been told that the summer will drive away the chill. My nearest neighbours are some distance away; close enough to reach in a day, but far enough that a round trip is not feasible in the same day without great haste. The town, Raven Brook, is even further. It takes almost a full day just to reach it from my home. The people have been polite, though not particularly warm. Hopefully they will warm to me with more time.

I wish I could tell you that I've settled in seamlessly to frontier life, but I would be lying. Father's claims that the land was ready for farming was, to be generous, greatly exaggerated. The "farmstead" that was here has clearly not been maintained in years. I have scarcely had time to write this letter with how much has needed to be done. While I did a great deal of reading before embarking, I was simply not prepared for the extent of the work that would need doing. The land is wild, and I have been scrambling to get my feet under me. I am writing this to you in a tent, as the cottage was in such a state that I believe it is past repairing and will simply need to be demolished. I have spent what little money I had procuring material, labour, and instruction, and that still has not been enough. As I do not expect Father would send money, nor would I suffer the indignity of asking him for it were he inclined, I have had to pawn all my jewellery to finance my endeavours. I will not miss most of it, though I am worried that, if my progress continues to be as slow as it has been, that it will not be enough. I will figure something out, I'm sure. Don't worry about me.

How have you been? Last I heard, you had gotten engaged. Congratulations. I wish I could be there for your wedding, but I doubt that will be possible with my current finances and the work that needs to be done on the farm. I'm sure it will be wonderful, though. I don't know when you will get this, or when I shall receive your reply. Raven Brook is well off the rail routes, and we only get mail once a month at most. That said, I will write as often as I can. I miss you dearly. Give my love to mother.

Your sister,

Eveline

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