Page 28 of The Lady of Red River Valley (Ladies of the Wilderness #2)

Yet, how could she leave Arran? Her love for him was different, but equally as powerful.

He had told her he wanted her to leave, but she was willing to stay and face the dangers, whatever may come, if it meant being at his side.

She had made great progress with the school and longed to restart classes in the fall, building on the things she’d taught the children.

Their curiosity and thirst for knowledge had given her a sense of purpose as she tried to meet their enthusiasm.

But there was so much she still wanted to accomplish.

She dreamed of one day building a school and opening it to all the children in Assiniboia who wanted to come.

Another streak of lightning filled the house with a flash of blue light. Eleanor wiped the tears and looked toward the window, hoping Arran would arrive soon. He had not been home all day. The last she had seen of him was directly after the church service when he had gone to the lookout tower.

Nicolette and Miriam had gone to sleep in the room they shared, while the governor was already snoring in his room upstairs. William had quietly said good night, but Eleanor knew he would be up studying for hours, as was his habit.

It was nights like tonight when Eleanor usually filled the pages of her journal with the events laying heavy upon her heart.

But she could not bring herself to record the possibility of William taking Miriam from her—or the choice that would lead Eleanor away from Arran for good.

They had not spoken in private since the long-ago feast, yet there were so many things she wanted to tell him—and so many things she wanted to hear.

She would need to give William an answer concerning his proposal by tomorrow.

Governor Semple had spoken to them that evening about his plans to leave in just two days.

Eleanor would need to make a decision by the morning so she would have time to prepare for the journey—if she decided to go.

But what other choices did she have? If Arran did not want her, then she would need to leave.

There were so many unanswered questions stirring in her heart.

She finally set her pen down and placed everything back into her writing desk.

She would not know what to write until she’d spoken to Arran.

But what if she didn’t see Arran before morning?

How could she give William a final answer without giving Arran one more chance to open his heart to her again?

Eleanor stood and went to the window. The sky was dark and overcast, with flashes of lightning jumping between the clouds.

The wind had picked up and was blowing the tops of the trees near the riverbank.

The only place Arran might be at this hour was in the southwest watchtower.

Would it be wise to go to him? Would he be alone and able to speak?

Without giving it another thought, Eleanor lifted the shawl over her head and slipped out the front door, closing it softly behind her. She had to take the risk.

The wind pushed at her gown, whipping the hem around her feet.

She had to walk carefully so she did not trip over the uneven ground.

No one was in the fort yard this late at night, offering her some privacy as she rushed across the hard-packed dirt.

If anyone saw her moving about in the darkness, her reputation would be in question—but with only one night to make the most important decision of her life, she cared little about what other people thought.

She had lived through two scandals in her lifetime—a third would be of minor consequence.

Up ahead, the watchtower loomed under the swirling storm.

Eleanor reached the ladder and climbed it on stiff legs.

Her heart was pounding so hard, she feared she might become lightheaded and tumble to the bottom.

But there was no other choice. She could not leave Assiniboia without speaking to Arran one last time.

She just hoped he was there, alone.

The watchtower was not large. A man could not lie down in it, and not more than two or three could stand comfortably in the space. When Eleanor finally reached the top, Arran stood in the opposite corner, leaning against a post, staring out at the dark prairie.

He was alone, thankfully, and there was not another person around to see them together.

She finished climbing the ladder, but before she could pull herself fully into the tower, he turned, his entire body alert as he lifted his musket into his arms and swung it in her direction—stopping a split-second before aiming it at her.

“Eleanor!” He quickly leaned the musket against the half-wall and came to her.

It was not easy to climb a ladder in a gown, and even less so to pull herself into the tower.

He offered her his hand. “What are you doing here?” He did not sound pleased to see her. On the contrary, there was accusation and anger in his voice.

“I need to speak to you.” She finally stood on her feet and smoothed out the skirt of her gown. “I waited all day, but you did not return home.”

It was difficult to see in the darkness, but the occasional flicker of lightning allowed her to get glimpses of the hard lines in his face. He returned to where he’d been standing in the corner of the lookout tower and turned his back to her. “I have a job to do.”

“There are over a hundred other voyageurs and company men in the fort. Could one of them take a turn in the lookout tower?”

“James is in the northeastern tower.”

Eleanor had not considered that someone might have seen her from the other tower, but would James tell anyone?

“You shouldna be here,” Arran said, his voice devoid of emotion. “You should return to the house.”

The tower was open on all four sides, with a half-wall coming up to Arran’s waist and a roof overhead. Wind pushed through the openings and cooled Eleanor’s skin. She pulled her shawl closer to her body. “I will not leave until you speak to me.”

“We have nothing to say to one another.”

Frustration warred with the pain in her heart. She crossed the small space and stood beside Arran, though she did not look out at the prairie. Instead, she looked up at him. She stood so close, he could not ignore her.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

“I want to speak to you. That is all.”

He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. “Then speak and be quick. You should be back at the governor’s house. If someone found us together—”

“Why are you ignoring me? You’ve avoided being alone with me since the buffalo feast.”

The first smattering of rain hit the roof of the tower as Arran finally looked at Eleanor.

“You ken why I’ve ignored you.”

She shook her head. “I know you want me to leave, but does that mean you must treat me as if I’m already gone?”

He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked back at the prairie. “I thought it would be easier.”

“Has it been?”

Arran’s muscles were tense and unyielding. He stood like an immovable statue beside her. She longed for him to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be all right.

But he did not.

Eleanor put some space between them and rested her hands on the top of the half-wall. “William asked me to marry him and return with him and Miriam to England.”

Arran did not move or react to her statement. Did he truly not care that another man had proposed to her? That she might leave for good? A wave of sorrow washed over her as the rain began to pour in earnest, making it impossible to see past the lookout tower.

A fine mist wet her skin, causing her to shiver. “Do you not care?” she asked just above a whisper, hoping he would hear her over the sound of the storm.

Arran finally turned to look at Eleanor. Her eyes had adjusted, so she could see him more clearly in the dark. Pain and longing were written upon his face.

“Aye, I care. More than I should.”

A spark of hope lit in her heart. “I have not given him my answer.”

He studied her for a moment. “Why not?” His voice was strained, as if it was difficult for him to speak. “He is a good man, and he could offer you a good life.”

“I do not love him.”

He shook his head, his eyebrows coming together. “What good is love?”

What good was love? She stared at him. “It is the very thing our hearts long for. It is the thing for which marriage was made.”

“It does not serve a purpose in places like this, or in marriages like the one West has proposed. He is offering protection, stability, and comfort.” His voice almost sounded angry. “You would be foolish not to accept.”

“You do not seem surprised that he has asked me.”

He did not meet her eyes. “I suspected he was attracted to you, but he thought you and I had something between us.” He swallowed and finally returned his gaze to hers. “I set him straight and he said he would take you away from Assiniboia if you’d go.”

A flash of lightning filled the space. “But we do have something between us.” The storm and the impending departure of William and Miriam made her bold. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she did not let her gaze waver. “I’m in love with you.”

Thunder shook the tower as Arran drew her into his arms, intensity thrumming through his muscles. He held her tight, as if he was afraid to let her go.

She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as her tears fell.

“You love me?” he asked, his lips pressed close to her ear.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her then, with all the passion and pent-up longing he had held for the past four years.

Liquid warmth filled her stomach, pouring into her limbs, making them weak with desire.

The kiss was both gentle and tender, and at the same time powerful and all-consuming.

Eleanor could not get enough of Arran. His lips explored her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, making her entire body tremble.

She entwined her fingers through his hair, holding him close, never wanting him to stop.

This kiss was the kiss she had dreamt about for years, and it was as wonderful as she’d always expected.

“Eleanor,” he whispered as he clung to her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She hugged him close, allowing her fingers to explore the curls at the nape of his neck. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since we walked in the gardens at St. Mary’s Isle.”

He was no longer kissing her, but he still held her, his face buried in her neck. “I have no respect for a man who takes advantage of another man’s fiancée.”

“I am not William’s fiancée. I have made no promises to him.” She needed Arran to understand. “How could I, when my heart belongs to you?”

“You shouldna say such things.”

“Why not?” Pain filled her voice. “Do you not love me, Arran?”