“’Tis not because you are a woman, but because I canna abide the idea of watching you suffer.” His words came out fast and fierce. “I ken what I speak of, lass. This land doesna care who you are, or whether you are strong or weak. It destroys without discrimination. You may be bold and courageous now, but it willna matter in the end.” He shook his head. “You are brave, and you want to make a difference, but I lost you once.” He paused, his careful façade slipping for the first time since her arrival. “I canna lose you to death, once and for all.”
Eleanor inhaled a surprised breath. Snow had gathered on his shoulders and hat and continued to fall all around him. “I’m sorry about what happened between us in St. Mary’s Isle—”
“I dinna want to speak of it.”
“But we must. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
He moved past her and walked to the governor’s front door.
“Arran, I want you to understand.”
“I do understand.”
“No.” She met him at the door. “My father was desperate to save our estate, and I was unable to tell him no. He would have never allowed us to marry.”
“It doesna matter now.” His face was devoid of emotion. “I shouldna asked you to marry me. I was a fool.”
The fort yard was quiet as the snow fell silently. “You were not a fool. I was honored by your proposal. Knowing that you had loved me, even if for only a short time, sustained me through the hardest days of my life. For that, I’m truly grateful.”
Something shifted in his gaze, and she saw a glimpse of the man she’d fallen in love with in Scotland. But just as quickly, it disappeared and in its place was the same wall of indifference.
“Those days are gone now,” he said. “I’m not the man I once was.”
Eleanor nodded. “You’re right. You’re an even better version of that man now. I see it in the way you care for the people of this settlement. They look to you with deep and abiding respect, just as I do.”
He let out a rush of air. “What do you want from me, lass? Why did you truly come?”
She blinked several times, afraid and embarrassed to admit that she had come to tell him she still loved him, especially now that she knew it would be impossible to have a future together. He had put her out of his heart for good. So, she said the only thing that made sense. The only thing she could request. “I want to be friends again.”
He lowered his chin and looked at their feet for a moment.
She held her breath, hoping and praying he would not reject her once again.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze to her and nodded. “Aye. We can be friends.”
Warmth filled Eleanor’s chest. She’d missed him terribly and longed for more, but being friends was better than nothing at all.
“But I will insist you’re on a boat back to England in the spring,” he said. “I will personally see that ’tis done.”
The warmth she’d felt began to cool.
She had no intention of returning to England. She’d cast her lot with the colonists and their education. She would stay—whether Arran MacLean wanted her or not.
Chapter Five
Asharp, northwesterly wind blew against Arran’s back as he rode Tiberius along the shores of the Red River south toward Pembina. The snow had spit at them on and off during the past four days of travel, but it had started to fall in earnest for the past two hours, collecting quickly on the dips and swells of the prairie. It was unrelenting as it blew across the open plains and bent the trees along the riverbanks. The colonists were miserable as they huddled in their canoes, the voyageurs paddling to the pace of fifty strokes per minute. The adults held their children close to shield them from the bitter wind and freezing snow, but several children cried incessantly, tearing at Arran’s heart.
One of the canoes, near the back of the brigade, had drawn Arran’s attention all day. Eleanor sat in the middle of the canoe with William West at her side. She wore the coat the minister had given her, as well as the mittens and moccasins Arran had procured for her from James. He’d also gifted her wool leggings to wear beneath her dress, but Arran could only assume that shewore those now. They would offer another layer of warmth and protection from the cold. He wished he could ease her current suffering, but he admired her for her fortitude and positive attitude each time they had stopped. She was good with the children, bringing a rare smile to their faces with a story or a simple game.
But it was the adult colonists who she struggled to connect with, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. She was kind and courteous, offering a smile or a helping hand, or even a word of encouragement. They were not cruel to her, but they moved around her as if she wasn’t there. Though she chose not to use her title, everyone knew exactly who she was, and it was clear she did not belong with them. Not only was she British, but she was an unmarried woman, and an earl’s daughter. Her position in the young colony was unnecessary, and everyone knew it.
And he was beginning to think that Eleanor realized it now, too.
She glanced up and met his gaze. He did not lower his eyes or turn away from her. Their conversation the night before they left Fort Douglas had stayed close to his heart, warming him now as much as it had done then, though he tried to fight the feeling. She wanted to be friends. It was less than he had wanted at the start, but more than he had dreamed of at the end. Though he knew it wasn’t wise to long for her companionship, they had many long months ahead of them before she would return to England and the thought of enjoying her friendship filled him with more pleasure than it should.
Despite the difficult conditions, Eleanor offered him a gentle smile from the canoe. His heart beat faster, and he smiled back, wanting to reassure her that his words to her were still true. He would be her friend, come what may.
“Fort Daer ahead!” one of the voyageurs called out from the head of the brigade. All the voyageurs lifted their colorful paddles in a celebratory cheer.
