“And what if Selkirk is not ready to come in the morning? What will we tell the Nor’westers when ye dinna appear for breakfast tomorrow?”
“He’ll have to be ready. We won’t have any other choice.”
“And what if you’re captured?” James asked.
“What more could they do to me?” Arran lifted his shoulder. “I’m already a prisoner, facing trial for murder.”
“It could be a lot worse, my friend.”
“I will take the risk.” Arran had sat around for four weeks, wishing he could do something. Now was the time to act. He had to save his friends.
Chapter Nineteen
Jack River House, HBC Northern Lake Winnipeg August 16, 1816
Fog rolled over Little Playgreen Lake, hovering above the waters like a soft blanket. The sun had not yet crested the horizon, but there was a pale purple hue to the sky, with ever-brightening shades of pink on the rim of the earth. Eleanor liked this quiet part of the day best of all. Few of the fort’s occupants were awake, allowing her to sit for a bit on her favorite log, facing the lake, praying.
If she had her journal, she would have used this time to write about the past six weeks since arriving at Jack River House. She mourned the loss of her books almost as much as she mourned everything else that had been taken from her. The words she’d written could never be recaptured. They were a part of her heart and soul. An extension of her deepest thoughts and most precious memories. To know that strangers were reading them felt like the worst sort of intrusion, as if she had been stripped bare for all to see.
A sigh deflated her chest as she let her eyes linger on the horizon, forcing herself to find a reason to be thankful for thisoncoming day. She had started the school again, to keep the children occupied and provide weekly entertainment as they had done over the winter in Pembina. Mr. Barlas lent her the use of his books and the main room of his fur post. It had given her a sense of purpose and kept her mind occupied.
For the most part.
Jack River House was a modest fort, residing on Little Playgreen Lake at the head of the Nelson River, which ran from Lake Winnipeg to Hudson Bay. They had passed this way on their journey to the colony the year before, when Miriam was only two months old. It had been difficult for the fort to take over a hundred refugees, with no supplies and few necessities among them. But the voyageurs and Indians who summered there had given what they had, and everyone had learned to make do. Thankfully, there had been a large garden planted by the half-blood women who resided at the fort year-round, and it had started to produce vegetables. Fish had been their mainstay, as well as small game. They still had their tents and blankets, and a few cooking utensils, for which Eleanor was grateful.
Her thoughts turned to Miriam and how the baby had grown, having passed her first birthday the month before. Though, she could hardly be called a baby any longer. She toddled around the fort as if she’d been walking her whole life, and made friends with several company men, including the chief factor, Dugan Barlas, who doted on the child as if he was her long-lost grandfather.
A heavy footfall sounded behind Eleanor and she turned to find Fiona Ferguson approaching.
“Mind if I join ye?” Fiona asked.
“Of course not.” Eleanor moved to the side to allow her friend to sit beside her. The two women had grown closer over the past few weeks as they had endured the hardships of grief and uncertainty together. “How is Catriona feeling this morning?”
Fiona nodded. “Her fever broke in the night. She is sleeping peacefully now.”
Catriona, the youngest of the Ferguson children, often had ear complaints, and would cry for hours on end. The doctor at Jack River House had given her oils to use and it had done a great deal to help the baby.
“I’ve come to a decision,” Fiona said quietly as they both looked out at the calm lake. Indian wigwams were spread out along the shoreline and dozens of overturned canoes dotted the landscape beyond the stockade. “I will marry Mr. Kelly, in the custom of the country, until we can make it legal. He will start sharing my tent tonight.”
Eleanor closed her eyes briefly and took a few breaths before she responded, her voice tight. “He is old and prone to drink.”
“Not all of us have the luxury of waiting for a knight in shining armor to come and rescue us.” Fiona’s back went rigid. “I have four babies who need a faither, and Mr. Kelly is the only one who has offered.”
Eleanor had known this conversation was coming. Mr. Kelly had been relentless in his pursuit of Fiona from the moment they had reached Jack River House. “It’s only because he has not allowed anyone else the opportunity. He monopolizes your time and threatens anyone who might approach you.” There were dozens of eligible bachelors among the settlers. Eleanor was well-aware. Ever since Arran had been taken away, several had made advances.
“Who would approach me?” Fiona asked. “I’m ugly and large—”
“You are beautiful.” Eleanor turned to face her friend. “You are perfect the way you are.”
Tears filled Fiona’s eyes as she played with a stray thread on her worn skirt. They were the first Eleanor had seen her shedsince Angus’s death. Fiona dipped her chin and impatiently wiped at her cheeks.
“I want you to be happy, Fiona.”
“How will I ever be happy again? My Angus is gone.”
Eleanor gently took Fiona’s work-roughened hand into her own. “Please,” she begged. “Do not settle for Mr. Kelly. I know Mr. Aiken and Mr. McGlynn have both spoken about you, and I see them watch you as you go about the fort. They are strong, able-bodied men who both love God and have impeccable reputations. I will even speak to them on your behalf.”
“Ach, ye couldna!” She shook her head. “I’d be mortified.”
