Page 26 of The Lady of Red River Valley (Ladies of the Wilderness #2)
“Would you like to take a seat?” West asked.
Arran shook his head. He needed to stand for this conversation.
“Within weeks, the fort will be under attack.” He didn’t know how else to start.
“An army of North West Company men is on their way from Fort William and a band of Bois-Br?lés are on their way from Qu’Appelle.
I dinna ken when they will arrive, but it will be soon. ”
West slowly removed the spectacles from his nose and set them down slowly onto his desk. “How bad do you think it will be?”
The truth settled deep in Arran’s gut. “There will be bloodshed, I’m certain.” The mounting tension coupled with Duncan Cameron’s arrest and the destruction of Fort Gibraltar almost guaranteed it. “No one will be safe inside Fort Douglas.”
“And what of reinforcements?”
“We await Lord Selkirk’s arrival, though I dinna ken what kind of support we can expect from him. The additional voyageurs in the fort are the only ones Semple could muster.”
West paced to the window and looked out into the dark fort yard, his countenance heavy. “What hope do we have?”
“I have lived through two attacks on Fort Douglas.” Arran spoke with a heavy voice.
“And each time, the settlers were driven away by force. The violence has only increased, and I fear the Nor’westers and Bois-Br?lés will not be as lenient as they have been in the past. The only hope we have is to send those away from the fort who are most vulnerable, while we still can. ”
West turned back to look at Arran. “Miriam?”
“And Eleanor. This will be no place for either of them when the fighting begins.”
“What do you propose?”
Sweat began to gather under Arran’s coat. His heart beat so hard, he had to take a moment to breathe and remind himself this was the best choice. “I would like you to take Eleanor and Miriam away from the colony.”
“To where?”
“England.”
West stared at Arran. “My work is here.”
“If Eleanor and Miriam do not leave soon, I fear they will not be able to leave at all. Governor Semple is traveling to Hudson Bay in four or five days. He will take several voyageurs with him on the journey. It will be the best time for you to leave. A ship will return to England in August. You should be on it.”
A gust of wind rattled the windows as West slowly lowered himself to his seat. “Losing Anne was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. Since her death, I’ve struggled with whether I should keep Miriam here. The settlement lacks so many of the things I had hoped to give her as she grows.”
“You’ll take them to England, then?” Arran held his breath, hoping West was a man of common sense.
“It was proper for Eleanor to travel to North America with my wife and me. It would not be proper for us to travel back alone. Her reputation would be ruined, as well as my good name as a minister.”
Arran was well-aware of what could happen if they returned to England alone—and what they would need to do to return home without ruining their reputation. It was the part of his plan that hurt the most. Eleanor and West would need to marry.
He hated to be the one to put the idea in West’s head, though he would be surprised if West hadn’t thought about it already.
Arran had watched the minister over the past few months.
His eyes had often strayed to Eleanor, though he hid his interest well.
Arran wasn’t sure if West’s attention was purely for Miriam’s sake, or if the man was attracted to Eleanor.
No doubt, the loss of his wife had stayed heavy on his mind, and he would be fighting guilt if he had been drawn to Lady Brooke.
“There is a way to avoid ruin,” Arran said, choking on the words. “You could marry her.”
William West snapped his head up and stared intently at Arran. “I was under the impression that you and her . . . that the two of you had an understanding.”
It was Arran’s turn to stare at West. “What gave you that idea?”
“I have eyes. I’ve seen you together. I—” He swallowed and looked down at his hands. “I have kept my distance, because I thought you and Eleanor were in love.”
Arran briefly closed his eyes. So, this was why West had not declared himself to her.
“Do you love her?” West asked.
It was the second time Arran had been asked that question this evening—yet William West was not his friend or confidant. He was the man who could do what Arran could not. He could marry Eleanor and take her away from Assiniboia. Arran did not feel obligated to tell him the whole truth.
“I care for Eleanor and Miriam and do not want to see them suffer.” It was true, if only partly so. “But Eleanor and I dinna have an understanding between us.”
“She’s free?” The hope in West’s voice turned Arran’s stomach sour.
Arran had to force himself to answer. “Aye. She is free to marry anyone she chooses.”
“I could not ask for a better mother for Miriam,” West said, almost to himself. “Or a better helpmeet to serve the Lord.”
Arran didn’t want to hear any more. He needed an answer so he could leave. “You’ll ask her?”
West nodded, slowly at first, and then with more confidence. “I believe I will.”
The air left Arran’s lungs as he watched West’s countenance lighten. His eyes took on a shine and he sat up straighter in his chair.
“Good night,” Arran said without a backward glance, needing to escape.
“Good night. And thank you.”
Arran closed West’s door and stood in the hall to catch his breath. His heart ached and for the first time in his adult life, tears stung the backs of his eyes. He pressed his hands to his eyelids, taking several deep breaths, and felt the scars lacing his fists.
He would have done anything to protect his mother, no matter how much it hurt, or what he had to sacrifice. It was a gift from God that He had allowed Arran the time to offer Eleanor the protection she needed.
But why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much?