Arran didn’t want to hear any more. He needed an answer so he could leave. “You’ll ask her?”
West nodded, slowly at first, and then with more confidence. “I believe I will.”
The air left Arran’s lungs as he watched West’s countenance lighten. His eyes took on a shine and he sat up straighter in his chair.
“Good night,” Arran said without a backward glance, needing to escape.
“Good night. And thank you.”
Arran closed West’s door and stood in the hall to catch his breath. His heart ached and for the first time in his adult life, tears stung the backs of his eyes. He pressed his hands to hiseyelids, taking several deep breaths, and felt the scars lacing his fists.
He would have done anything to protect his mother, no matter how much it hurt, or what he had to sacrifice. It was a gift from God that He had allowed Arran the time to offer Eleanor the protection she needed.
But why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much?
Chapter Eleven
It was a strange experience to sit in the sunshine at Fort Douglas, on a wooden bench, while guards stood in the lookout towers and patrolled the stockade. William preached with passion and conviction, but even his stirring words could not prevent Eleanor from thinking about the advancing trouble. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the fragrance of warm earth and budding plants, in hopes of quelling the anxiety.
William had requested the Sunday service be held out of doors after the long and tiring winter. Eleanor was thankful for the opportunity to bask in the sunlight, though it was a struggle to get Miriam to keep her bonnet over her fair curls. The baby was spirited and full of curiosity, and it took all of Eleanor’s patience and energy to keep her safe. She pulled herself up to standing on a regular basis and Eleanor was quite sure she would be walking before her first birthday.
“Just as Christ was buried for three days, and then rose again to new life,” William said, “so too do we rise to new life when we confess our sins and ask for forgiveness. The Bible is filledwith stories of rebirth and new beginnings. We are constantly reminded to die to our old selves and pick up our cross to follow Christ.”
Arran stood on the edge of the group, his musket on his shoulder, his eyes roaming the stockade, while coming back to rest on William from time to time. Eleanor had an unhindered view of Arran and could look upon him without turning her head or drawing attention.
She marveled at how much he had changed—but then chided herself, realizing he hadn’t changed at all. She had simply come to know him better, altering some of her preconceived notions and opinions. In doing so, he had grown more attractive in her eyes. He had stolen her heart at St. Mary’s Isle, but it was in the Red River Valley where she had given it to him freely. He held it now, no matter how much he tried to push her away. She knew he was doing it because he loved her, too, and it only made her long for him more.
Arran’s gaze landed on hers and she did not feel embarrassed or shy away from the intensity in his eyes.
“Let us bow our heads in prayer,” William said, drawing Eleanor’s attention back to the minister.
She bowed her head, but her mind wandered as William prayed. Miriam squirmed in her arms, pulling the bonnet on her head. Eleanor patiently removed her chubby little hands from the strings and bounced the child on her legs to keep her occupied for a few moments longer.
“Amen,” William said when he was done.
The congregation, numbering over a hundred, rose from their benches, filling the air with murmured conversations. Nicolette did not speak to anyone but quietly walked toward the governor’s house, where she would prepare lunch. Eleanor should join her, but she hated to leave the sunshine, and shewanted Miriam to use as much energy outdoors before taking her back into the confines of the house.
Setting the baby on her feet, Miriam held herself up using the bench and walked along it, making her soft baby sounds in preparation for words.
“She will be walking soon.” William approached, his Bible clasped in his hands. He wore his long, black robe and white cravat. He made a handsome minister, with his kind blue eyes and confident shoulders.
Eleanor smiled and nodded, turning her gaze back to Miriam. “She favors Anne more and more.”
William took a seat on the bench in front of Eleanor, though he faced her and his daughter. The others had begun to disperse, returning to their tents within the large stockade, or, if they had ignored Arran’s wishes, to their homes in Colony Gardens.
For a moment, Arran remained where he was standing, his gaze on Eleanor and William. The expression on his face was unreadable as he caught Eleanor’s eye. But then he turned and walked to the opposite end of the fort and disappeared around the main hall.
“It pleases me that she looks like Anne,” William said. “I had thought the reminder of her would be too difficult to bear, but I’m beginning to think it will offer me comfort as she ages.”
Warmth filled Eleanor’s chest at his words. “That makes me very happy.”
“Does it?” William studied Eleanor. “I like making you happy.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she simply smiled.
They continued to watch Miriam waddle around the bench, smacking the top as she went.
“I’ve come to a decision.” William’s voice was tentative, as if he was taking his time with his words. “I believe it will be best for Miriam to return to England.”
