Page 15 of The Lady of Red River Valley (Ladies of the Wilderness #2)

“Mrs. Ferguson,” Arran said, forcing himself to return her smile.

“Mr. MacLean.”

“Could I speak with you?”

Her surprise was evident in her raised brows, but she was kind and she nodded. “Aye. What can I do for you?”

The sun was bright, and he was forced to squint. “I just saw Miss Brooke and she told me that your children were her only students today.”

Mrs. Ferguson was a tall woman, with wide shoulders and a thick waist. Her blond hair was worn in a crown of braids around her head and her clothes were clean, but practical.

She didn’t appear to be someone who was easily intimidated, but she fidgeted now.

“Aye. Angus and I agreed we should take advantage of the school while we can.”

“What about the others? Will they not use the school?”

“They’re a wee bit uncertain about Miss Brooke. They see the school as charity.”

“Charity?” Arran frowned. “How so?”

Mrs. Ferguson glanced over Arran’s shoulder and nodded at a passerby.

When the other lady had gone, Mrs. Ferguson leaned in.

“There’s a rumor she came all this way out of pity for our children, and she’s not taking an income for her time.

They say her father is an earl and he sent her here with all the money she needs. ”

“None of that is true. Have you not asked her yourself?”

Mrs. Ferguson put up her hands. “I dinna say I agreed with the rumors. I like Miss Brooke just fine, and even if she did come out of charity, we agreed to swallow our pride and take it, for the sake of our children.”

“She’s not teaching out of charity—and her father left her destitute. She’s just as dependent on this colony as everyone else.”

“The poor lamb.” Mrs. Ferguson clucked her tongue.

“I will try to correct the others, but it will be hard to convince them. We’re a proud lot and dinna take kindly to charity.

Everything we have, we have earned. If the others know that Eleanor is earning her keep, as well, mayhap they’ll take advantage of the school. ”

“Mayhap we need a little entertainment to bring people together.”

“Entertainment?”

“A dance.” He remembered that Lord and Lady Selkirk had hosted a dance when Arran visited them to introduce him to their friends and neighbors at St. Mary’s Isle. Eleanor had been a magnificent dancer and had enjoyed herself quite a bit.

“It couldna hurt,” Mrs. Ferguson said.

The more Arran thought about the idea, the more he liked it.

He hoped it would help Eleanor interact with the other families.

But more than that, he liked the idea of dancing with her again.

The soft sound of dripping water fell from the eaves of the house as Eleanor sat near the fireplace, sewing a small dress for Miriam.

In the seat opposite her, William sat with his Bible, reading silently as he held it up to the firelight.

Governor Semple had left that morning with his secretary, Mr. Pritchard, for his trip to Brandon House, and Nicolette had gone into the room she shared with Eleanor to put Miriam down to sleep.

The only person missing was Arran. He had left directly after supper to help move the long tables in the main hall, where there was to be a dance.

A log popped in the fireplace, sending a cascade of embers up the chimney. The faint scent of woodsmoke filled the room and mingled with the aroma of fresh-baked biscuits, which Nicolette had made for their Sunday morning breakfast the following day.

William set his Bible on his lap and quietly stared into the flames.

Eleanor glanced up at his movements and admired the profile of his face.

He was a handsome man, in a sort of scholarly way.

He wasn’t very tall, but his presence was large, especially when he preached.

He wore his light brown hair short and combed back, and when he read, he set a pair of spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

In almost every way, he was Arran MacLean’s opposite, though Eleanor had no reason to compare the two men.

They were as different as night and day, each serving with their own God-given purpose.

“Will you attend the dance?” he asked, shifting his gaze from the fire to her face, catching her watching him.

She set her sewing on her lap, almost certain that she would be ignored again, but determined to win over the colonists. “I believe I will.”

“Do you like to dance?”

A small smile tilted the edges of her mouth. “I enjoy almost nothing more.”

He watched her, a bit intently. “Do you think they will want you there?”

It was no secret that the colonists were uncertain of her.

She had held school for five days in a row and the only children who had attended were the Fergusons.

When she had gone to the colonists’ homes, and asked if their children planned to come, they had given one excuse after the other.

Not only had it been disappointing, but she’d also been humiliated.

She didn’t want more of the same at the dance, but she wouldn’t give up now.

“I don’t know if they will talk to me, but I can’t miss an opportunity to try. Will you attend?”

“No.” He smiled and shook his head. “I do not believe I shall. I find my presence at such gatherings puts a damper on everyone’s fun. They think they must behave a certain way, or I will pass judgment on them.”

“Do you mind missing it?”

Again, he shook his head. “I am not a good dancer, so I do not miss such things.”

Her thoughts slipped to Arran, who was a good dancer. Her cheeks warmed thinking about their dances together at St. Mary’s Isle. He had left her breathless with delight each time he held her in his arms.

She caught William watching her, so she said, “Surely, you can dance.”

He slowly removed the spectacles from his nose and set them on a nearby table.

“I’m sorry, Eleanor. I used to be more exciting.

There was a time when I would not have hesitated to ask a pretty lady to a dance.

Before I became a minister, and before—” He swallowed and looked down at his clasped hands. “Before Anne,” he said quieter.

Compassion tightened Eleanor’s chest. She reached over and gently placed her hand on top of his. “I know.”

He looked at her hand for a heartbeat, then laid one of his own over it. “Thank you. I long to ask you—”

The front door opened, and Arran strode in. His eyes took in the scene in an instant.

Eleanor pulled back her hand, while a rush of heat crept up her neck. She had done nothing wrong but felt guilty all the same.

Slowly, Arran closed the door.

William rose from his seat and held the back of his chair as he faced Arran. “Is everything set for the dance?”

“Aye.” Arran looked from William to Eleanor. “Are you ready to go?”

She glanced at William and then back at Arran. “Yes, though I’m afraid no one will want me there.”

“I want you there.” His gaze was steady and very serious. “I planned the dance for you.”

William stiffened, watching them intently.

“This dance is in my honor?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Truly?”

Arran did not move from his place near the door. “When I was new to St. Mary’s Isle, Lord and Lady Selkirk held a dance in my honor to meet their friends and neighbors. ’Tis the least I could do for you.”

“What if no one comes?”

He smiled and his brown eyes sparkled. “They’ve already started to fill up the hall, lass.” He extended his hand. “Will you come, then?”

Eleanor stood, turning her attention to William. “Are you certain you won’t join us?”

He shook his head, as he regarded her. “You go and have fun.”

She nodded at him and then said to Arran, “I will need to change before I go.”

“You look bonnie in what you’re wearing.” He smiled. “I wouldna change a thing.”

“I can’t go to a dance in this.” She lifted the hem of her brown dress. “It isn’t meant for a party.”

The light in Arran’s eyes dimmed and he shook his head. “Your second-best dress is better than anything the other ladies wear, lass. If you walk into the hall in a party dress, you’ll only distance yourself more.”

Remorse and embarrassment at her thoughtlessness filled her throat and she had to swallow it down. “You’re right, of course.”

She had brought several gowns with her, including a stunning ball gown, not knowing when she might have the chance to acquire another. But now that she’d come to the Red River Valley, she realized how frivolous it had been to waste the space in her trunk.

Arran motioned to the door, taking her shawl and bonnet off the hooks. “Shall we go?”

He helped her to put them on, and with a farewell to William, the two of them slipped out of the house.

Lights shone from the windows of the main hall and music spilled out into the muddy yard. Overhead, the stars sparkled in all their brilliance without a moon to dull their shine. Though it was October, the air had cooled, but it was still much warmer than it had been when they traveled to Pembina.

Arran was strong and steady as he walked beside her, causing her heart to beat an irregular rhythm. Would he always elicit these feelings inside her? He had made it clear he didn’t want her to stay, but she could not convince her traitorous heart to stop responding to him.