Page 43 of The Lady of Red River Valley (Ladies of the Wilderness #2)
“Please.” She stopped on her way to the tent. “I prefer Miss Brooke.” What she actually preferred was Mrs. MacLean, but she wondered now if that was ever meant to be. Tears threatened, but she needed to be in her tent before she gave in to their demands.
Chait nodded and bowed, his hands behind his back, as if he was saying good night to her in a formal parlor at an English manor.
She said good night to the others, her curious gaze returning to Chait Fraser more than once before retiring to her tent.
As soon as she laid down, with Miriam tucked in by her side, Eleanor finally gave in to the tears and despair.
Fort William
North West Company
Northern Lake Superior
August 16, 1816
The mid-August sun bore down on Arran as he and the other five men from Assiniboia walked toward the Great Hall at Fort William.
Two armed men followed them from the Bell House, where they had been kept among senior North West Company clerks since their arrival four weeks before.
None of the Red River men spoke when they were under guard—which was almost constantly.
They had learned early on that they were being observed, their conversations repeated to the partners.
Instead, they kept their mouths shut and their eyes and ears open.
In this way, they had learned several important details about the North West Company and their plans.
The Great Hall sat in the middle of Fort William, the hub of the village-sized headquarters for the North West Company since 1803.
The old headquarters at Grand Portage were now part of the United States since the Louisiana Purchase, and to avoid US tariffs, the company had moved forty miles north over the border into Rupert’s Land.
Almost five thousand fur traders, voyageurs, and native people came through the fort during the months of May through September.
There were at least forty buildings of various sizes, built specifically for the needs of the fort.
Warehouses, dormitories, shops, a tinsmith, a cooper, a blacksmith, as well as boat builders, an apothecary and infirmary, not to mention the gaol, all within the walls of the fort.
Trade goods, sent from Montreal, and before that from England, were delivered in the spring by voyageurs known as pork-eaters who were strong French-Canadian men employed to haul the thousands of tons of cargo in light-weight canoes.
Once the cargo arrived at Fort William, it was dispersed to the voyageurs known as north men.
These were rough, seasoned French-Canadians who stayed in the interior throughout the long winter.
The north men would arrive at Fort William with all the furs collected by the Indians through the long winters.
Here, the pork-eaters, named for their primary food source, would take the furs and return to Montreal, where they would be put on ships bound for England.
The north men would take the trade goods brought by the pork-eaters and return to the interior to use them to purchase more furs.
It was an endless cycle that had begun over sixty years ago, and many men had become very powerful and rich because of the trade.
Now, in mid-August, the commotion of Fort William had dimmed as brigades of north men returned to their interior posts, and the majority of the pork-eaters had gone back to Montreal.
There was still a strong contingency of employees, though, and every time the men left their room in Bell House, there were guards to keep them from escaping.
They stepped onto the long porch attached to the Great Hall and Arran opened the door leading into the dining room.
Two hundred people could sit within, though only about fifty men were there now.
Arran led his men to a small table in the corner, where they had taken all their meals.
The Great Hall was reserved for partners, clerks, interpreters, and guides, while the voyageurs were strictly forbidden from entering.
They allowed the Assiniboia men to eat there, as well, and Arran was grateful for that small favor, though he and his men were treated no better than the lowly voyageurs.
The guards left Arran and his men at their table and then went to a different one occupied by their friends.
“When do ye think they’ll send us to Montreal?” Archie asked Arran quietly.
“I dinna ken.” Arran was surprised that they hadn’t been sent already. Their September first court date was only a few weeks off, but it would take at least six to reach Montreal.
“Mayhap they’re waiting for McGillivray to take us,” James said, sitting across from Arran. “I heard yesterday that he plans to stay for another week, until the rest of the pork-eaters are ready to return.”
William McGillivray was the most prominent partner still residing at Fort William for the remainder of the summer.
There were others, of lesser rank, men who had come in from Montreal for the annual rendezvous, in large flotillas and great fanfare.
These wealthy men lived in luxury for the winter months in the east, and then made their way to Fort William for the summer to conduct business—still living in grand style at the fort.
Many had been wintering partners, spending their time at posts throughout the interior, years before, and knew the land as well as those who traded with the Indians now.
“Aye.” Arran nodded at James’s assessment. “They’ll send us back with McGillivray.”
For four weeks, they had resided at Fort William, waiting to be removed to Montreal. Before that, it had taken them almost four weeks to travel to the fort from the Red River. It was an infuriating experience to sit idle, when Arran knew how hard Eleanor must be working just to survive.
The dining room was overly warm, though the windows were open to allow a breeze to blow in from the Kaministiquia River.
The river ran parallel to the fort, which had been built near the mouth of the river as it emptied into the northern shores of Lake Superior.
A long wharf had been built on the banks of the river for the ease of the canoes that came in and out almost daily through the warm summer months.
An Indian woman arrived at their table with steaming platters of delectable food.
Fresh bread, salt pork, beef, ham, fish, peas, Indian corn, potatoes, butter, and cranberry sauce.
They were also offered tea, high wine, and plenty of milk.
Arran had not gone hungry since arriving at Fort William, but each time he filled his belly, all he could think about was Eleanor and Miriam, wondering if they were as fortunate.
“I ken what you’re thinking when you get that look in your eyes,” James said as he put a spoonful of Indian corn on his fine china. “Old John will take care of her and the bairn.”
The other men glanced in Arran’s direction, though no one mentioned Eleanor’s name. Arran was not the only man among them who had been forced to leave the woman he loved. Heden and Burke were married with children, and Pritchard had been courting one of the settler’s daughters.
“I wish there was a way we could know if they arrived at Jack River House.” Arran had said the same at least a hundred times since arriving at Fort William. “What if something befell them along the way?”
Heden’s face was long as he said, “My fear is that they tired of waiting for us and left, or took up with another man.”
“That’s a rotten thing to say.” Pritchard shot Heden a stony look. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, then keep your mouth shut.”
“And why wouldn’t they?” Heden challenged. “There are five men for every woman among the settlers. Why would they wait?”
“Mayhap they love us?” Burke asked with sarcasm dripping from his voice. “And they’re committed to us.”
“You all need to calm yourselves,” James admonished. “We are not the enemy. They are.” He pointed with his fork. “We’ll have to leave our loved ones in God’s hands and deal with what comes one step at a time.”
Arran pushed his boiled potatoes around his plate, the injustice of the entire situation making his stomach turn to knots.
There was no way of knowing if the settlers reached Jack River House, or if they would be waiting for them on their return.
He had asked Eleanor to wait for him, but what if circumstances forced her to leave Jack River House?
What if she lost hope of seeing him again and accepted someone else’s proposal to ensure her and Miriam’s survival?
Arran couldn’t think about such things. He had to do as James said and trust God.
A clerk burst through the front door of the dining hall and everyone’s conversation died.
“It’s Lord Selkirk!” the clerk exclaimed, rushing to McGillivray’s side, a missive in hand. “He’s landed at a point a mile upriver, and he’s in the possession of at least a hundred or more soldiers!”
“What’s this?” McGillivray rose and tossed his napkin on his plate. He ripped the missive from the clerk’s hand and quickly scanned the contents.
Arran’s entire body became still as he watched and waited. James and the other men did not move a muscle. Selkirk was here? It was too good to be true.
McGillivray crumpled the missive and turned his angry gaze on Arran and his men.
His jaw clenched and for a moment, he looked as if he might address Arran, but then he turned and spoke to the partners and senior clerks sitting at his table.
“If this report is true, Lord Selkirk is currently at a point west of here, with over a hundred retired de Meuron soldiers.”
De Meuron soldiers! The regiment of Swiss mercenary soldiers was first raised over forty years before for the Dutch East India Company and named for its commander, Colonel Charles-Daniel de Meuron.
Arran was familiar with their service in both the Napoleonic wars, as well as the War of 1812, when they were posted in Canada.
He had heard they were disbanded, but had never dreamed Selkirk would think to hire them—if indeed he had.
“I want the Red River men returned to their quarters,” McGillivray ordered, “until further notice.” He stormed away from the table toward his room, which also served as his office.
He spoke to the other partners as he went.
“No doubt Selkirk is here for his men. If he gets them now, they’ll never face charges.
We must remove them from here before Selkirk demands them, and sneak them off to Montreal. ”
A handful of the clerks rose to remove Arran and the Red River men from the dining hall, but they did not need to be told. They left their food on their table and walked back to Bell House, on the other side of the Great Hall, with several guards following them.
“I dinna like this,” Arran said the moment they entered their quarters. He still spoke quietly, knowing the guards were posted outside their door. Three bunks filled the spacious room and a table with six chairs sat in the center. The men went there now.
“I wouldna doubt that the Nor’westers are hatching a plan to assassinate Selkirk in his sleep,” Archie said. “He is the only man who stands in the way of their plans.”
Arran leaned forward and whispered, “If Selkirk delays in coming for us, McGillivray will remove us from the fort. Once we’re in Montreal, he’ll not be able to free us from prison.
Our fates will be sealed.” He tapped his fingers against the wooden table, unable to sit.
He left his chair and walked to the window, looking out at the back side of the fort.
“He needs to be told to strike immediately. And I will be the one to tell him.”
“It won’t work,” Pritchard said, his voice low. “They’ll be watching us even closer now.”
“I’ll find a way to escape.”
“We’ll all go,” Heden said, his voice tight and quiet.
“Nay. It’ll be harder to escape with the six of us. If I can get away tonight and warn Selkirk to strike in the morning, it’ll be our best chance.”
“And what if Selkirk is not ready to come in the morning? What will we tell the Nor’westers when ye dinna appear for breakfast tomorrow?”
“He’ll have to be ready. We won’t have any other choice.”
“And what if you’re captured?” James asked.
“What more could they do to me?” Arran lifted his shoulder. “I’m already a prisoner, facing trial for murder.”
“It could be a lot worse, my friend.”
“I will take the risk.” Arran had sat around for four weeks, wishing he could do something. Now was the time to act. He had to save his friends.