Arran could not wait even another day. His feet itched to move and his muscles contracted with the need to expel the anxious energy he felt at the knowledge of his freedom. There was nothing keeping him from Eleanor now. Nothing but an earl who had need of the soldiers.
“If you are amenable, I will leave for Jack River House immediately, on my own. I can be there in half the time and collect the settlers. We will then head directly to the colony and meet your soldiers there.”
“You will not go alone,” James said. “I will go with you.”
“And I,” Archie said.
“And I,” Heden, Pritchard, and Burke echoed.
Selkirk was quiet for a moment, but then he nodded. “I can spare a dozen soldiers to accompany you, in case you meet trouble.”
“I insist we leave immediately,” Arran said. He could not wait another moment.
A slow smile lifted Selkirk’s mouth. “I understand your eagerness. Go, with my blessings. We will see each other again in Assiniboia.”
The Red River men did not let another minute pass before they went to their room and gathered the few possessions they had brought to the fort.
“I hope you are ready to travel hard,” James said to the men with a wide grin. “Because I dinna think Arran will let any of us rest until we reach Jack River House.”
The men laughed for the first time in a long time.
September 14, 1816
“Nay,” Isla said as she looked at Eleanor, sorrow in her rheumy eyes. “Not my John, too.”
“I’m sorry.” Eleanor sat beside the now twice-widowed woman, feeling as if she’d had to apologize far too many times for the loss of loved ones this past year. “Old John was a good, kind soul.”
“Ye dinna have to tell me, lass.” The widow did not cry but looked at her husband of only ten months. He lay completely still on his cot, having died of an illness no one was able to identify. He had not suffered long and had passed in his sleep. “I never thought I’d live to bury two husbands. I count myself blessed that both men were good to me. I ken some women who marry and regret their decision. I never regretted mine.”
Eleanor smiled, appreciating the older woman’s positive attitude.
“I wonder if I’m too old to marry a third time,” she mused. “There are men enough to go around.” She glanced out to the fort yard beyond the flaps of her tent. “I wonder.”
Eleanor did not know if she should applaud the woman for her practicality or be appalled by her tactlessness. In the end, she did neither, just sat with the widow until she was ready to have John’s body buried.
It was a simple ceremony, one that Old John would have been proud of, though Eleanor could not help but think that Arran and James should be there to say goodbye to their friend. They were fortunate to have a missionary priest visiting the fort who had said a word and a benediction for the aged fur trader. Old John had faithfully given his life to the Hudson’s Bay Company, and though he’d never had the ambition to rise to a chief factor,he had been a senior clerk for several decades and had done his duty. He was well-known and well-loved.
Eleanor could not stop thinking about Arran and how much he would miss Old John as she and Nicolette walked back to their tent with Miriam toddling along between them.
When given the opportunity, Miriam would rather walk than be carried. Though it often took longer for Eleanor to complete her tasks this way, she loved the little girl’s independent spirit. It would serve her well in a world that was not always kind.
Clouds hung on the horizon, covering what little sun they had left to the day. Isla had stayed behind to speak to the priest, but it was time to get supper ready. A hungry little girl did not appreciate a deviation to her schedule.
The small camp they had inhabited with Old John and Isla felt oddly deserted. No more would Old John be nearby to offer his entertaining stories or his protection. Eleanor did not anticipate any problems, but it had been good to know the fur trader was there, if the need arose.
Nicolette did not speak as she stirred the coals and coaxed them to life. She put sticks on the fire and brought it to a flame. Eleanor helped by retrieving the precious ration of corn they had tucked away in their tent from Mr. Barlas.
“I wish we had a garden of our own,” Eleanor said, almost to herself. Nicolette rarely responded, though it did not stop Eleanor from talking to her. “I appreciate the squash and beans and corn from the fort garden, but I haven’t had carrots or peas since leaving England.”
More and more, she found herself longing for the life she once had. If not for her, then for Miriam, who knew nothing of a different sort of existence. Eleanor’s childhood had been full of comforts she’d taken for granted. Warm beds, roaring fireplaces, delectable foods, leisure time for lessons, games, and riding.
The only thing that gave Eleanor a bit of reprieve from the monotony of their current predicament was the classes she offered four days a week for anyone who chose to attend. She had both children and adults now, those who had never learned to read. They did not meet for long, but the two or three hours she spent with them a day had made a huge difference in their ability to read and write.
Fiona Ferguson was one of those adults. While Nicolette and Isla had watched the children, Fiona had learned how to read, practice simple sums, and write a letter. She had rejected Mr. Kelly’s proposal, to his great dismay, and had allowed other men to start to court her favor. She had yet to choose which man would be honored with her hand in marriage, but Eleanor was certain she was getting close to a decision. She had watched her and Mr. Aiken on several occasions and saw a spark of interest in her friend’s eyes.
Nicolette took the last stick of wood from the pile that Old John had kept stocked.
“I’ll retrieve more,” Eleanor said. “Will you watch Miriam?”
