Page 31 of The Lady of Red River Valley (Ladies of the Wilderness #2)

“No.” Semple took out a piece of parchment paper and his pen. “We need all the men we can muster. I will not allow anyone to leave the fort until this trial has passed—including you.”

Sweat began to gather on Arran’s brow. Eleanor was stuck in Assiniboia. He should have found a way to send her to York Factory sooner.

“I have letters to dispatch, gentlemen,” Governor Semple said. “Please send a few runners in to me. I want to get these sent out to Jack River House and toward Montreal as soon as possible. We will need all the help we can get.”

Arran’s brain continued to work at a sluggish pace. He couldn’t think. There had to be a way to send Eleanor to safety—but how?

“Come,” James said to Arran. “Let us fetch runners.”

Arran followed James out of the office and into the blazing sunshine. It made his head pound even harder than before.

“I canna let Eleanor and Miriam stay in the fort.”

“You dinna have a choice.” James’s voice was weary and troubled. “All you can do now is pray they stay safe.”

Arran hated to feel powerless. He had felt it when his mother had died and each time the settlement had come under attack.

But this time, it was infinitely worse.

Two days had gone by in a flash of preparations, and yet they had dragged on as no two days ever had.

Just after the sun set on the second day, Eleanor stood at the window of the governor’s house, watching and praying.

Nicolette had taken Miriam to their room to put the baby to sleep, but the men were nowhere to be seen.

Moments after Governor Semple had told them the news about the impending attack the day before, William had gone to offer his assistance, and that was the last time she had seen him all day.

He had been up and out of the house before Eleanor had risen from her bed this morning.

Arran had not returned after breakfast yesterday, and the governor had been in and out of his office from the moment the Cree Indians had visited.

While the men prepared the fort, Eleanor, Nicolette, Fiona, and the other women had prepared as best as they could with food, extra water, and bandages. There was no way of knowing what might happen, or if they would need the supplies, but it had given them something to occupy their time.

Now, as the last rays of sun fell behind the western horizon, Eleanor could not help but wonder what the morning would bring.

Governor Semple had said that it was too late to leave Fort Douglas, and even if they had wanted to go, there would be no guides to see them to Jack River House and then on to York Factory.

For all intents and purposes, they were prisoners of Fort Douglas.

A familiar figure appeared in the dim fort yard and Eleanor’s pulse sped at the sight of him.

Arran walked slowly toward the governor’s house.

The invisible load he carried was almost palpable.

As his steps brought him closer and closer to her, Eleanor’s breathing became more and more labored.

They had not spoken since their encounter in the watchtower, or since he had learned about her engagement to William.

What would she say to him? What might he say to her?

She stepped away from the window and went to the fireplace a moment before the door opened. Though she knew it was him, she turned at the sound and caught her breath at the look in his weary, sad eyes.

More than anything, she wanted to run into his embrace. But that was no longer an option. She was now promised to another man. No matter how much she longed for Arran, she had made her choice and would have to live with it.

“I was hoping you’d be alone.” Arran closed the door behind him and set his musket against the wall.

He had hoped she’d be alone? For what purpose? Her heart beat even harder at his words.

Standing near the door, he studied her as if trying to memorize her appearance. Fatigue lined his mouth, and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. It had been three days since he’d slept in the governor’s house. He must be exhausted.

“Sit,” she said, walking over to a chair and pulling it away from the table.

His movements were unhurried and deliberate, as if it was a great burden to perform such a simple task as walking across the room.

“You should be abed,” she told him. “You haven’t slept in days.”

“There has been much to do.” He took the seat she held for him.

She crossed her arms and walked around the chair to stand before him. “You’ll be no good to the fort if you do not sleep.”

“The others are meeting in the main hall. I came back early to get a few hours of sleep while I still can.” He watched her closely, the look in his eyes deep and hard to read. “I need to speak to you before I retire.”

She hugged herself but could not take a seat at the table with him. Her legs were too restless.

“I’m sorry, lass.” He shook his head, pain pulling his eyebrows together. “I shouldna let you stay in the fort as long as you have. You should be on your way downriver to Lake Winnipeg by now.”

“There was nothing you could have done—”

“I could have sent you with a guide.”

“With Semple’s plans to leave, there was no reason to send us with a guide.” She wanted to reassure him but didn’t know how. “This is God’s will, Arran.”

He shook his head again. “I canna accept that. God gives us choices.”

“Yes, but the events that have transpired are not of your making. You made the right choices, at the right times. None of this is your fault.”

He clasped his hands on his lap and bent his head. His dark hair was curly and wild, and so tempting. She could still feel the strands between her fingers from the night they had kissed.

“I was foolish enough to think God had given me a second chance,” he said, quietly, almost to himself.

“A second chance at what?”

“At saving someone I love.”

She closed her eyes briefly, the pain of hearing him declare his love a bittersweet reminder of what had brought them to this moment in time. “You did everything you could. We must leave the rest up to God. We do not know what He plans.”

“I’ve not always been keen on His plans.”

Eleanor could no longer stand on her shaking legs. She took the seat beside him. “Please,” she begged. “Don’t add this burden to all your others. I need you to be clear-headed and rested when the real battle begins.”

He finally lifted his head. “How will I be clear-headed when I ken you and Miriam are at risk? It is the thing I’ve feared from the moment of your arrival.”

“Perhaps it will make you fight all the harder.”

“Aye.” He attempted a smile for her. “Mayhap it will. But, whatever happens, I want you to promise me that you and Miriam will return to England with West the moment it’s safe to do so.”

Eleanor nodded, finding it hard to voice her thoughts.

“Even if you dinna have time to say goodbye to me.”

“It’s the reason I agreed to marry him.”

Arran swallowed hard and looked away from her. “Aye. And ‘tis glad I am that you have. It makes the most sense.”

“Does it?” Nothing made sense to Eleanor anymore.

Neither one spoke for several moments. Finally, Arran stood. “I should get some rest. I dinna ken what tomorrow will bring.”

This could very well be the last opportunity Eleanor had to speak to Arran alone—yet there was nothing she could tell him that would change the course of events unfolding around them.

“Good night, Arran.” Eleanor also stood and found herself very close to him. “I will pray for you.”

He looked down at her, his dark eyes full of longing and tenderness. “Good night, Lady Brooke.” He lifted his hand as if he was going to caress her face, but then he lowered it again, and let out a sigh. “My prayers will be with you, as well.”

With those final words, he left her side and disappeared up the stairs.

Eleanor wanted to weep, but she had cried enough the night before.

The door opened again, and this time William and Governor Semple entered.

William caught Eleanor’s gaze, concern in the tilt of his brows. His eyes wandered up the stairs, where Arran had just gone.

“I have a few things I need to address in my office,” Semple said, blustering a bit. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He left the common area and disappeared behind his closed door.

It was just Eleanor and William, alone. Since he had proposed, they had endured a bit of awkwardness around each other. In time, Eleanor knew it would ease, but for now, it was still uncomfortable.

She hadn’t allowed herself to even comprehend what it might be like once they were married and she was expected to share the intimacies of marriage with him. The very thought made her palms sweat and her forehead feel clammy.

One day at a time.

“Is all in order?” she finally asked.

“I believe so.” He walked over to the fireplace, where he picked up the poker to readjust the logs. “Though there is no way to know how or when they will attack. It makes things more difficult to prepare.”

“You’ll not fight, will you?”

He set the poker back on its hook and turned to look at her. “I will do what is required to protect the colonists.”

She was struck, again, by how blue his eyes were. They shone with intelligence and compassion. He was a learned man, not a soldier. “Do you know how to fight?”

A slow smile tilted his mouth. “I’m not completely inept.”

Warmth infused her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Do not fret, Eleanor.” He lifted his hands to quiet her defense. “I have shot a gun before, though, I confess, I am not as skilled as I would like to be. I hope it does not come to warfare.”

Her hands were restless as she clasped them together. “If it becomes dangerous, I pray you do not put yourself into harm’s way.”

He watched her with a curious, almost hopeful, look in his eyes. Slowly, he walked to her.

She held her breath as he drew close, uncertain what he might say or do. Would he try to kiss her? Or would he wait until they were married? Should she offer him some sort of affection, on the eve of battle?

William stopped a couple feet in front of her, a gentle smile on his lips. “I would like to think you care about me, even a little.”

Her response was quick. “Of course, I—”

He put his hand up and rested his fingers on her lips.

The gesture was so unexpected, she stared at him. It was the first time he’d ever touched her in such a personal way. It was not unpleasant, but it did not stir her passion like Arran’s touch.

“I have no illusions of your true feelings,” he said, coming closer to her as he lowered his fingers. “But it does my heart good to think you care about my welfare.”

“Your welfare is very important to me,” she said just above a whisper. “Why would it not be?”

William’s gaze lowered to her lips and her chest began to rise and fall in an unsteady rhythm.

As her fiancé, he had every right to a kiss—yet her heart would not be in it.

At least, not now, not with Arran so close and the memory of their embrace the day before still so fresh in her mind.

She did not want to spend the rest of her life comparing the two men, because she feared William would never measure up and that would not be fair to him.

Her shoulders stiffened and she pulled back, only slightly.

It was enough for William to return his gaze to hers.

She could only imagine that he and Anne had felt passionate about each other, and that he would desire the same ardor in his second marriage.

Guilt washed over her, knowing she could not offer him what he wanted.

“Will you make me a promise?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to find her voice.

“If something does happen to me, will you keep Miriam and raise her as your own?”

“Do not say such things.” Panic filled her chest. “Nothing can happen to you.” She couldn’t even imagine the great loss his death would create. Not only was he zealous about sharing his faith, but he was more knowledgeable than anyone she’d ever met.

“I will do everything in my power to come back to you and Miriam.” He smiled again. “I am very eager to make you my wife and start fresh in England.”

She wished she could share his sentiments, but it would not be honest. Instead, she returned his smile.

She might not be eager to return to England and begin a life with a man she did not share romantic feelings for, but she was very grateful for the opportunity and for becoming Miriam’s mother, in every sense of the word.

“Good night, Eleanor,” he said. “I will pray God’s protection on all of us.”

He began to move past her, but then he stopped. Very gently, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek.

She closed her eyes briefly, overcome by his tenderness.

“Good night,” she whispered.

He left her then, her heart beating an unknown tune—foreign yet hopeful.