But wasn’t this what he had wanted? What he had set into motion? He forced himself to meet West’s gaze. “Congratulations.”
West nodded. “Thank you.”
It was even harder to face Eleanor, though he knew he must. “I hope you’ll be happy,” he said to her, his voice sounding hoarse and unnatural to his ears. All he could think about was the kiss they had shared the night before. It was the only thing he’d thought about in the watchtower. He could still feel the sweetness of her embrace.
“Thank you,” she said just above a whisper, distracting herself with feeding Miriam.
“I think this is cause for a celebration,” Semple said. “Nicolette, do we have any ingredients to make a special dessert for supper? A pie or cake, perhaps?”
Nicolette was rarely addressed, and she paused now, surprise on her aging face. She shook her head.
“Perhaps I’ll stop by the fur post to see if McIntosh has any food supplies he could part with. Some flour and sugar would do just fine.” Semple dipped his spoon back into his hominy, blissfully unaware of the tension ricocheting off the other three tablemates.
Semple continued to blather as Nicolette placed a bowl of hominy in front of Arran. He had eaten the meal a thousand times since coming to the Red River, but it had never tasted as bland and pasty as it did today. He had to force himself to eat it, only because he knew he would need the strength. But the moment it sat heavy in his gut, he stood. “I will await you in your office,” he said to Semple.
Semple looked up in surprise but nodded. “I will be there shortly.”
Arran left the room without a backward glance. He felt as if his body was moving slower than usual, and his mind was working extra hard to keep up with the events transpiring around him. How would he be of any use to the settlers in the fields today?
With a weary sigh, he took a seat in Semple’s office. As he waited, his eyes grew heavy, and the next thing he knew, Semple was entering.
He must have fallen asleep.
“You look tired,” the older man said to Arran. “Perhaps you should get some sleep before you see to your other responsibilities.”
Arran sat up straighter and wiped his eyes. He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He’d gone without sleep before. “I wanted to check in with you before I head to the fields.”
A knock sounded at the door leading outside. Semple had not yet sat, so he went to the door and opened it. James stood on the other side, two Cree Indians behind him.
“May we have a word with you?” James’s face and voice were heavy with unspoken news.
“Of course. Come in.” Semple opened the door wider.
Arran stood, alarm making the hair on the back of his neck rise. He recognized these men. They had come and gone from the fort many times in the past four years to trade furs. Both were considered friends to the Hudson’s Bay Company and were honest in their dealings.
There were not enough chairs in the room, so they stood in a circle.
“What do you have to tell us?” Semple asked.
James shared a look with the two Cree men. All three wore serious expressions.
“We have come to warn the post.” One of the Cree men, known simply as Bill, crossed his arms as he spoke. He had been educated by missionaries and spoke almost flawless English. Both men were dressed in clothes similar to those worn by Arran and James, though their Indian heritage was also visible in their long black braids, and the earrings and other jewelry they wore. “Bois-Brûlés and Nor’westers have made camp at Portage a la Prairie,” Bill said, “and plan to attack in two days’ time. All are armed and mounted.”
In two days? Arran’s heartrate began to accelerate. It would be just enough time for Eleanor and Miriam to leave. Portage a la Prairie was only fifty miles to the west, but Eleanor would be heading due north.
“How many?” Semple asked.
“One hundred, maybe more.”
It was as they had feared. “And is Cuthbert Grant among them?” Arran asked.
Bill nodded. “He leads the men. He vows he will clean out settlement and leave no one.”
“Are you certain?” Semple asked.
Bill nodded, his face grim. “You are friends,” he said, looking from one man to the next. “I warn you to be ready.”
“Thank you.” Arran wished he could say more, but what else was there?
