by Jody Hedlund
The sun glinted off Red Fox’s strip of hair and the grease he slathered over his body on a regular basis. His expression was sharp, and Angelique had to resist the urge to cower against Pierre.
The brave turned back to the canoe, retrieving the grain sack that contained all the possessions Angelique owned. He held it out to her with a nod. “She is good for my brother.”
Angelique sensed that Red Fox wasn’t the type of man to give praise lightly, and she nodded at him with her thanks, hoping he could see that her gratitude went much deeper than his kind words.
“She’s mine now,” Pierre said, his arm tightening possessively. “Forever and always mine.”
Her heart expanded with a love so fierce, she was helpless to do anything but hug him in return. Although the warning in her head clanged louder, for now all she wanted to do was enjoy being in his arms again, she was too happy to think about anything but their being together. Later she would sort through how she needed to do the right thing this time.
Chapter
23
The brigade teased him mercilessly about Angelique, for he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. After the past several days of waiting for Red Fox to catch up to them, he’d nearly driven his men crazy with his worry.
He hadn’t wanted to stop and wait for Red Fox. He knew he needed to put as much distance between himself and Michilimackinac as possible. He had no doubt Lieutenant Steele and Colonel McDouall would send out an Indian war party to hunt him down. And when they found him, they’d kill him on the spot. In fact, he expected they’d cut him up limb by limb and completely destroy every trace that he’d ever existed.
The officers would be desperate to make sure he was silenced. They couldn’t risk any word spreading that he was alive. Such news would only make them look inept. After all, no prisoner had ever escaped from the Black Hole or the fort before, and they wouldn’t want anyone to think it had happened under their command.
But after three days of paddling hard with his crew, Pierre hadn’t been able to shake the worry that something had happened to Red Fox and Angelique. So he’d stopped. And they’d waited all morning, until he’d been as tense as a bowstring.
When he’d finally heard Red Fox’s war cry and caught sight of Angelique’s stunning red curls, his relief had swelled in his chest, almost choking him. He’d wanted to linger on the beach with Angelique, had wished he could send his brigade ahead so that he could have a whole afternoon alone with her to fish and hike and talk for endless hours. But one grave nod from Red Fox toward the east told him that a war party was on their trail.
They loaded their canoes with their usual speed. Then he tucked Angelique securely behind him in his spot at the head canoe, and they pushed off from the shore.
They paddled swiftly, and he prayed their speed as experienced voyageurs would give them an advantage over the band of Indians on his trail.
Even with the threat of danger creeping up on him, he relished every moment of the day spent with Angelique so near. They managed to talk more than he’d expected. She was full of questions about all that she saw.
As the day wore on, he could almost believe Angelique belonged in the canoe behind him, that she could fit into his life as a fur trader. Even in Lavinia’s fancy gown, she maneuvered with a naturalness that had likely developed over the years from all her fishing. She wasn’t afraid, didn’t complain, and seemed to enjoy the ride. With each passing mile she’d observed the landscape with an eagerness that fueled his own love of the land.
Had he been wrong to think he couldn’t bring a wife along during his voyages?
He urged the brigade onward until well past dark, using the excuse that he wanted to get as far away from Michilimackinac as he could. He didn’t have the will to tell them that he was being hunted. He wanted to deny the truth for as long as possible—the truth that eventually he would have to leave his brigade and strike out on his own. It was the only way to keep his men and Angelique safe.
Long after nightfall they finally stopped and made camp. After a meal of hominy and salted pork, he sat against a boulder near his fire and pulled Angelique in front of him so that she had little choice but to lean back against him.
The September air was cool, and he wrapped his arms around her like a blanket, telling himself he was only trying to keep her warm and comfortable. But the truth was he couldn’t get enough of her.
She folded her arms across his and laid her head against his shoulder so that her curls tickled his chin. The popping flames and the sparks rising into the black night mingled with the low voices of his men at their campfires. The sky was clear with a magnificent display of stars fanning out over the lake all the way to the horizon.
“It’s beautiful, Pierre,” she whispered. “I’m beginning to understand why you love the wilderness.”
He drew in a breath of the pristine air broken only by woodsmoke. “Do you think you could ever be happy out here?”
She hesitated. “I’m not sure. I’d like to think I could be happy anywhere. I’m learning to trust God to be my rock through every situation. But I love the island, Pierre. I think I love it as much as you love this.” She glanced to the waves lapping against the rocky shore, to the sliver of moon reflected in the water.
Even though he didn’t want her words to bother him, disappointment sliced into him.
“You belong here,” she said softly. “After watching you today, I can see it in a way I couldn’t before.”
He shrugged. After Red Fox’s update on the ongoing struggle with the North West Fur Company that summer and their continued efforts to put the free traders like himself out of business, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to protect his brigade and trade for furs anyway. He had a feeling his fur-trading days were numbered. “It doesn’t matter where I am—”
“This brings you to life in a way the farm never did.”
“That’s not true . . .”
“I always tell you the truth, Pierre.”
He swallowed the words of rebuttal, knowing he couldn’t deny what his heart had already told him. He lowered his head, wanting to kiss her, wanting to forget about everything that stood between them.
Why did it have to be so complicated? They loved each other. Couldn’t that be enough?
He nestled his lips against her hair, dragging in a deep breath of her. Lifting his fingers to her chin, he tilted her head so that he could kiss her.
“Pierre . . .”
He could sense the trust in her voice, the desire, and the same need to be with him that he felt for her. But when he bent to capture her mouth, she turned away.
“Pierre, we can’t.”
He gently nudged her head back, wanting to silence her protest.
She resisted again, this time pulling out of his arms altogether. “I’m not free to love you yet.”
He released a ragged sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re going to let Jean stand between us again.”
She shifted positions and knelt in front of him. “He still believes we’re to be married when he returns. I gave him my promise I’d be waiting.”
“People change, Angelique.”
“Not like this. I can’t do it this way, not by deceiving him.” Her words caught on a sob. “I can’t kiss you and find comfort in your arms, not when I pledged myself to Jean.”
His body tightened with a rush of frustration, the same frustration he’d experienced since the day he’d pulled Jean from the battle.
“I don’t want to become like my mother.” She grasped his hands. “You’ve got to understand that. She cheated on my father and broke his heart. I can’t do that to Jean.”
“You’re nothing like your mother. And besides, you’re not married to Jean yet.”
“But if I can so easily throw aside my commitment and cheat on Jean now before marriage, it’s only the first step down the path to being unfaithful in other things.”
“Then write to my brother and tell him you can’t marry him.�
�
“I can’t end things with a letter. He’s a good man, and he deserves better than that.”
Deep inside, he knew she was right, that he was being selfish again, as he had so many times in the past. But his desire for her and the helplessness of not being able to have her dueled within him, slashing his heart wide open.
“I paid the bride price to Ebenezer,” he said, unable to keep the rumble of anger from his voice. “You’re mine now.”
“Jean paid it too.”
He shook his head. “When he left he gave up his right to have you.”
“Just because he left, he shouldn’t have to worry about me pushing him aside for someone else when he’s gone. How would you feel if the situation were reversed? You wouldn’t want me to do that to you, would you?”
He jumped to his feet. He didn’t want to think about what was right. He’d almost died, almost lost his opportunity to ever hold her again. And he wasn’t going to give her up now that he had her. How could he?
“I had Red Fox bring you out here so that we could be together,” he said hoarsely. “Are you telling me you want to just throw that away?”
She shook her head, the firelight reflecting the wretchedness in every line of her pretty face.
He wasn’t being fair to her. He would have rescued her from Ebenezer no matter what the outcome was for himself. He didn’t want Angelique to suffer, forced into marriage with just any man. He wanted her to be happy. And if he coerced her into marrying him and staying in the wilderness, wouldn’t he be relegating her to the kind of life she’d always dreaded?
“I want you to know I’m grateful you rescued me,” she whispered. “I wish I could just forget about Jean and my promise to him, but I can’t. I have to be a woman of honor.”
“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to take you back so that you can be with him?”
He willed her to contradict him, to tell him she wanted to stay with him, that she loved him more than Jean, but she just hung her head instead.
“So just like that you’re giving up on us and shoving my love back in my face?” He hated that his voice was harsh. He didn’t want to lash out at her, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“I don’t want to give up on us,” she said, lifting her face. In the firelight the tears on her cheeks glistened. “I don’t want to think that this is the end, but don’t you see that even if Jean didn’t stand between us, I could never ask you to give up your fur trading for me?”
He couldn’t find the words to respond to the discussion they’d already had too often. He knew that she was right. And he hated it. All he could do was growl and spin away. He stood stiff and unmoving with his back facing her.
“And I can’t leave Miriam alone for the winter,” she added. “You won’t be able to return to the island without risking your life again. Jean won’t be there. Who will take care of her if I’m not there?”
He closed his eyes against the impossibility of their situation. Why had he ever thought they could make things work? Why had he believed their love could overcome such odds? That maybe she’d want to stay in the wilderness with him?
“I want to offer you my love,” she said behind him. “But love without honor is worthless.”
He didn’t turn.
“I have to do the right thing.” Her words were broken and filled with pain. “Maybe someday, if we do what’s right, we’ll find a way to be together.”
“I’m not waiting for someday, Angelique.” He spun on her with all the anguish pumping through his blood. “You’ve made your choice. So let’s not make this any worse than it already is with false hopes and dreams.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
And before he fell to his knees before her, begging her not to leave him and making an even bigger fool of himself, he forced his feet to move away from her. He strode into the darkness of the forest and let himself mourn silently where no one could see him.
At the barest hint of dawn, Red Fox touched Pierre’s shoulder. “You must go now.”
Pierre sat against the tree at the edge of the camp, where he’d positioned himself for the night. He’d closed his eyes for only a moment, knowing he had to rest, that he would need all the energy he could muster in the days to come.
“Menominee warriors will be here at first light. They will kill my brother.”
Pierre nodded and rose, adrenaline surging through him.
Red Fox shoved a bag into his arms. From the contents within the bag, Pierre could tell his friend had packed everything he would need to survive the coming days of running.
“I will pray to the Great Spirit to give you the swiftness of the hare, that your feet will fly and carry you to my people. They will keep you safe.”
That was if he made it across the miles to the Chippewa winter camp without being caught by the Menominee, but neither of them spoke the words. Pierre stared at the shore, to the fire where Angelique lay sleeping under a thick blanket.
“I will keep her safe,” Red Fox said.
Pierre swallowed the bitter lump in his throat. He wanted to go to her and kiss her good-bye and tell her he was sorry for the argument they’d had. He didn’t want to part with her like this. But what more could he say? She’d chosen Jean and the island.
“Take her back to Michilimackinac, to my maman.” He gripped Red Fox’s arm. “Please.”
Pierre didn’t want to think about what Ebenezer would do with her once she was back on the island. He had to believe the money he’d paid would prevent the corrupt man from trying to hurt her again. He attempted to block out the warning that Jean’s payment of the bride price hadn’t stopped Ebenezer from giving her away to him.
“I will ask Yellow Beaver to stay with her,” Red Fox said as if reading his mind.
“Would he do that?”
Red Fox nodded. “She is kind to him, like a daughter.”
Relief weakened Pierre’s legs. “I’d be indebted to him and will pay him handsomely.”
“You will not need to pay. He will sacrifice for my family.”
The breeze rattled the branches overhead and sent a chill up Pierre’s back. He glanced to the dark shadows moving in the woods behind him. He needed to go now before the shapes became the warriors the British had sent to kill him.
He didn’t know how he’d outrun them or how far he’d make it, not without a canoe. But somehow he had to distract the warriors from attacking his brigade and hurting Angelique.
“Please, take Angelique away from here.”
Red Fox nodded, his expression somber. “I will take her now.”
“If possible, bring my canoe back to this place and hide it.” Pierre didn’t know how or when he’d be able to return. Although he had a slim chance of surviving the chase, he knew he’d have a much better chance if he had his canoe.
Pierre took one final look at Angelique’s sleeping form, then said farewell to Red Fox and turned toward the forest. Whether he lived or not, he had the feeling it was the last time he’d ever see her.
Chapter
24
Angelique fell into Miriam’s arms, and she sobbed against the woman’s shoulder, her breath coming in deep, wrenching heaves. After three days of hard paddling back to the island and containing her sorrow, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Each stroke away from Pierre, every league between them made the parting more painful and more permanent. It hadn’t helped that Red Fox had driven them with a relentless urgency, constantly looking over his shoulder to the lake behind them and to the shore, with fear creasing his weathered forehead.
“Angel, Angel . . .” Miriam murmured, her gentle hands caressing Angelique’s hair, combing it back from her forehead.
Angelique knew she ought to be happy to return to her beloved island. She should be overjoyed to see Miriam after the weeks apart. But she couldn’t pretend any longer how utterly wretched she was.
She hadn’t known just how wretched she’d been until she arrived at
the farm and Miriam pulled her into an embrace. She knew then that nothing mattered to her as much as Pierre. And now he was gone. In fact, he’d left her without even saying good-bye. When Red Fox had awoken her in the early morning darkness with instructions to pack the canoe, there hadn’t been a trace of Pierre anywhere.
Red Fox had answered her questions about Pierre’s absence with grunts. She’d only been able to assume that Pierre had been too hurt and angry and hadn’t wanted to say good-bye.
“Oh, Miriam,” Angelique said as she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “it’s good to see you again.”
“God be praised.” Miriam’s cheeks were wet with tears too. Her beautiful, unseeing eyes shone with both joy and sorrow. “I never stopped praying for your safe return.”
Angelique took quick stock of the farm, the tall weeds, the untended garden with its yellow withered leaves, the fields that were ripe for harvest. All of Pierre’s hard work from the summer was wasting away. Would they be able to harvest enough to last them through the winter?
Yellow Beaver had already entered the enclosed garden and had started picking some of the vegetables that hadn’t rotted. Red Fox had disappeared inside the barn. He’d explained that Pierre had made arrangements for Yellow Beaver to stay with her and Miriam for the winter.
Even so, Angelique couldn’t shake the despair or the fear that had assaulted her the moment she’d stepped onto the beach near Main Street. When she’d walked the sandy path past Ebenezer’s Inn, she’d tried not to think about what he would do to her once he discovered she was back.
She wouldn’t be able to rely on him to help feed her and Miriam in the coming months. Although they’d have Yellow Beaver’s help, would it be enough?
Miriam lifted a hand to Angelique’s cheek after she’d explained all that had transpired during the time she’d been gone. “You’ve changed,” Miriam said, letting her fingers trail over Angelique’s features to do the seeing for her.