Arran forced his feet to stay planted, recalling how weak he’d felt when he could not save his mother. This time was different. He was using his strength and willpower to protect Eleanor the only way he knew how.
By sending her away.
She didn’t speak as she walked slowly to the ladder and then started her descent.
The rain was barely falling now, offering him a view of the prairie and the fort yard once again.
Right before she disappeared down the ladder, she looked at him one last time.
He swallowed, resolved to remain steadfast.
Her eyes were filled with the deepest sorrow he’d ever seen. Without a word, she left his sight.
A few moments later, he saw her walking across the muddy yard to the governor’s house.
She did not look back to see if he watched her.
Chapter Thirteen
The first hint of dawn drifted over the prairie in subtle shades of dark pink and purple. Not a single gust of wind pushed against the tall grass or rustled the leaves of the sparse bushes that dotted the terrain. Arran watched as the sun slowly lifted itself from its eastern slumber, casting shadows over the dips and rises. He couldn’t help but wonder what the day would bring. All was peaceful and quiet—for now. Would it end as it began?
Life started to stir in the fort yard, and soon, one of the voyageurs came to replace Arran in the lookout tower. He could have been replaced hours ago, soon after Eleanor came to speak to him, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep anyway, so he had sent the other man to bed and stayed at his post.
But he could not avoid his other responsibilities forever.
He climbed down the ladder and entered the yard. The earth was still muddy, with puddles in the low spots. He would need to report to Governor Semple before he began his work. Despite the oncoming danger, the voyageurs and company men hadplanted the crops and gardens before the colonists had returned to Assiniboia, and now they must be weeded and maintained. Arran would oversee the protection of the colonists as they went into the fields to work.
His eyes were gritty and his head pounded, but he would face the day regardless.
He paused outside the governor’s house and took a deep, steadying breath. The last thing he wanted to do was face Eleanor, especially feeling the way he did, but it could not be helped. He had made his decision and would have to live with it, come what may. It was for the best.
He pushed open the door and stepped into the common room.
Eleanor sat at the table, a bowl of steaming hominy before her. She was feeding Miriam, who sat on her lap. William was across from them, watching, as he also ate. There was a light in his countenance—that dimmed when he met Arran’s gaze.
“You’re just in time to join us for breakfast,” Governor Semple said as Nicolette placed a bowl of hominy in front of him at the head of the table. “Sit. You look like you could use something to eat about now.”
Arran was in no mood to be polite or conversational. His lack of sleep, coupled with his encounter with Eleanor, had left him especially out of sorts. But he couldn’t be rude, so he took a seat across from Semple, with Eleanor to his left and West to his right.
Miriam grinned and clapped her hands when she saw Arran. Her blue eyes sparkled and her four front teeth gleamed when she grinned at him.
Arran’s heart warmed at the enthusiasm of the baby. He smiled back at her, thankful to know that he still could. And then he met Eleanor’s gaze and his smile disappeared.
Her eyelids were swollen and she looked as if she hadn’t slept, either.
Not for the first time, Arran’s resolve threatened to crumble at the look on her face. His love for her was so overpowering, he felt as if he was standing on shifting ground and could be swept away at any moment.
To know she was just as miserable only heightened his pain. Yet, how much more so would she be if she had to witness Arran’s death? He kept reminding himself that this was for the best.
“Mr. West and Miss Brooke have shared exciting news with me this morning,” Semple said as he scooped a spoonful of hominy from his bowl. He looked at West and then said, “Do you mind if I have the honor of telling Mr. MacLean?”
Dread filled Arran, even though he knew this moment was coming. He wanted to get up and escape from hearing the news but knew it wouldn’t make it less true.
“By all means,” West said to Semple.
“William and Eleanor are to be married at York Factory.” Semple grinned. “Isn’t that marvelous news? Though I am sad to see them go, in time, I hope we have more ministers and teachers than we know what to do with.”
The tempest won the battle and Arran felt as if he was being swept out to sea, with no hope of ever returning to solid ground.
