“Are the Indians involved in moonshining?” Faith set two cups on the table, along with a teapot, and poured some for each of them.
“We aren’t exactly sure,” Calvin replied after taking a sip. “Commander Scott said he felt that there has to be some sort of agreement between the Ojibwe and the moonshiners because of how easily they’ve been evading the law—that perhaps one or more of the Ojibwe is helping to hide the still, for instance. We have no concrete evidence of this, though.”
Faith seemed to consider that. “So, what sort of danger would I be in, heading out that way? If I stay on the path, wouldn’t I be safe?”
Calvin nodded. “Yes, I imagine you would be. The stills are always tucked far back into the more densely wooded areas, not visible from roads or paths, and you should be all right.” He set his cup down and studied her eyes. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “Yes, it does. I can’t explain why—I just feel a pull to learn about our neighbors and make the most of my time here.”
Her tone of voice made it sound as though she thought she’d be leaving soon. That was odd, but Calvin chose not to ask about it. “I think that’s admirable. I’d like to ride out there with you the first time you go and introduce you to the Ojibwe I’ve met so far. We can do that on horseback until you feel proficient on the sled.”
“We can? Oh, I’d love that,” she said, her eyes sparkling. He loved seeing her so enthusiastic—it was like she was lit up from the inside. “When can we go? My first lesson is at one tomorrow, but I’m free otherwise. Well, I do need to make food for my hungry husband, but I can work around that, too.”
Calvin grinned. “Your hungry husband will be fine. Let’s ride out at ten, all right? I’m due at the office at two, and that will give us time to visit and come back.”
“Thank you, Calvin. This means a lot to me.”
Chapter Eight
That night, there seemed no point in sending Calvin back out to sleep in front of the fire. It was nice having him snuggled up next to her where she could listen to his gentle breathing—now that she was a little more used to it. He mumbled something in his sleep at one point, startling her awake, but she just smiled and drifted off again. She wasn’t alone anymore, and that meant a great deal.
After Faith put breakfast on the table, she packed up some bread and cheese to take with them, and Calvin saddled his horse. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to ride behind me,” he said. “The other horses assigned to the Mountie station are being used right now—Colton and Robert are out on patrol, and Malcolm needs access to his horse in case something comes up while he’s on duty at the station.”
“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t,” Faith replied. Truth be told, the thought of being that close to Calvin made her heart thump a little faster.
“Hmm. Then maybe I won’t be in such a hurry to get you a horse of your own,” he replied, sounding thoughtful.
“I’d be more likely to want my own sled dog team, but I can’t imagine how expensive it would be to keep one fed.” Faith held up the sack of bread and cheese. “I’m ready if you are.”
Calvin put the food in the saddlebags, and within minutes, they were headed off toward the village. Faith had spoken with the other brides about their encounters with the Ojibwe, and that made her even more eager to go out there.
As the horse moved along the path, Faith found it necessary to wrap her arms around Calvin’s waist very securely so she wouldn’t slide off. Hmm. It was every bit as nice as she’d imagined it would be, and she was disappointed to see spirals of smoke coming from up ahead, meaning they were almost to their destination and she would soon have to let go.
When they reached the village, she noticed several women and children working out of doors. The snow had been cleared away from the ground in front of their homes—or perhaps the large fires they’d built had melted it away. Huge pots were set over those fires, and some young girls had been set to the task of stirring the pots’ contents.
“I thought they’d live in teepees,” Faith commented as she dismounted, sliding down into Calvin’s waiting arms. “These homes are made of bark.”
“They’re called wigwams, from what we were told yesterday,” Calvin replied. “Teepees are best for groups that travel—hunters, mainly, who follow the herds. Homes like these are more for the groups who prefer to remain in one spot for longer periods of time.”
He turned and lifted his hand in greeting to an older Ojibwe man who had stepped out of his home. “That’s Edward,” he said to Faith. “Many natives use common names when interacting with white men to avoid language confusion. He told me his given name when I met him before, and I’m sure I’d mispronounce it horribly if I tried.”
Faith understood, but she still wanted to give it a go, and she decided that learning the Ojibwe language would be first on her list of objectives. It was good that so many of them spoke English, but it wasn’t fair for them to do all the hard work when it came to communicating—she could put some effort into it as well.
Calvin presented Faith to Edward, and the man seemed pleased to meet her. “Ah, you met Jane and Sammy,” he replied when Faith asked after them. “She is my niece. They live over here.” He motioned with his hand, and Faith and Calvin walked with him along the edge of the cleared ground. “Her husband was killed last year when he tried to stop a fight,” Edward explained as they walked. “Her life has been difficult.”
“What sort of fight? Was the murderer put in jail?” Calvin asked.
Edward shook his head. “We don’t know who it was. No one is talking, not even so Jane can have justice.”
Faith’s eyes flicked to Calvin. “You . . . don’t know who killed him?” she repeated, thinking she must have misunderstood.
Edward looked down at the ground. “Sometimes things are not said that should be said.” He didn’t go on, and Faith wasn’t satisfied with that cryptic remark. However, she thought it best not to push, and instead followed their guide the rest of the way.
Jane seemed surprised to find that she had visitors, but she welcomed them graciously. Sammy darted out from behind his mother just long enough to touch the fabric of Faith’s cloak, then disappeared again. He seemed drawn to the color like a moth to a flame, which got Faith thinking. She’d seen some red fabric at the mercantile—she could sew a shirt for the little boy so he’d have some red of his very own.
Edward invited Calvin to walk around the village a bit more, leaving the women to visit. Faith hoped she wasn’t being intrusive, but she couldn’t hold back her many questions. Jane answered each with a bit of a smile, probably wondering why she was being interrogated, but she willingly spoke about their traditional foods and how they were prepared, and also shared a few stories about the spiritual guidance that had led the Ojibwe to this part of Canada.
“The spirits spoke to my people and told them of the coming of white men who would seek to take over the land,” Jane told Faith. “So my people moved toward the west, and the white men did come, just as the spirits said.”
That was utterly fascinating. “When was this?”
Jane waved her hand. “Before my grandparents were born. Longer.”
She must have been speaking of Europe’s expansion into Canada. “How does that make your people feel, having to move because someone else wants your land?”
Jane shrugged. “There’s room for everyone if each person only takes their share.”
Over the course of their visit, Jane said many things that spoke to Faith’s heart. This Ojibwe woman wasn’t pointed or overbearing at all in her manner, but the things she said carried their own weight and their own importance, and Faith came away from the conversation feeling as though she’d been instructed in some of the deeper mysteries of the world. She might not have understood everything that was said because her own experiences were so different, but she appreciated hearing about the world through such a vastly varied perspective.
“I feel as though
I’ve read a hundred books all at once,” Faith said over the top of Calvin’s shoulder as they cantered away from the village. “I never would have learned those things back home—the culture simply isn’t written about or shared in a way I could have accessed.”
“So, you’re glad you came?” he asked, sounding amused.
“Oh, absolutely,” she replied.
He led the horse just slightly off the path to where a few trees had fallen and created natural benches. As he helped her dismount, he gathered her into his arms for a moment, studying her eyes. “I’m glad you came too,” he said softly. “The other fellows are all right, but I have to say, you’re a sight prettier, and better company, too.”
“I don’t know,” Faith said, pretending to consider it. “Colton’s rather pretty, isn’t he? Or handsome, I should say?”
Calvin looked shocked. “Mrs. Montrose, what are you saying? Do you prefer the looks of one of my fellow Mounties to mine? I could arrest you for treason, you know—treason on the grounds of preferred handsomeness.”
“There’s no such law, and no.” She met his gaze squarely. “I prefer your looks over everyone else’s in the world.”
“Good. Because I didn’t want to have to arrest you.” With a slight tug, he brought her just a little closer, and then he lowered his mouth to hers. She closed her eyes and leaned toward him, soaking in the moment, loving the strength she could feel in his arms, not even noticing the chill in the air. He kissed her for a long, wonderful moment, then released her only enough to say, “We should eat and be on our way.” Instead of letting her go, though, he kissed her again, and she had to confess, she rather liked it.
A moment later, he did actually let her go, and they sat on the logs and ate. “You should have something hot before you leave for your shift,” she said, feeling bad that his lunch was so simple. “I have some soup at the cabin that I can warm up for you.”
“That would be nice, depending on what time we get back,” Calvin said. “I know you’re meeting Mr. Larsen at one—I can warm my own soup if you need to leave.”
“I’d almost forgotten about that—I was completely wrapped up in what I was learning from Jane.” Faith ate the last bite of her cheese and then brushed all the crumbs from the front of her cape. “I suppose we really do need to hurry, although I don’t mind our reasons for being a little late.”
He grinned, and she knew he understood that she was referring to the kissing. “I don’t mind those reasons either, but we should go.”
She snuggled up to his back again as the horse began to move, and after they hit an easy pace, Calvin covered her hand with his as it rested on his stomach. She closed her eyes and sighed, feeling almost completely, perfectly happy in that moment.
***
“And that’s how you get the dogs to turn,” Mr. Larsen said. “So, we’ve covered starting, stopping, and turning—now all that’s left is for you to try it.”
Faith took a deep breath and looked down at the dogs, who were looking right back at her with anticipation. “Are you sure I’m ready?”
“No amount of standing here and talking about it is going to take the place of actually doing it,” Mr. Larsen replied. “You have to feel the shift and the balance of the sled and sense the movement of the dogs before you’ll really understand what I’m talking about. Up you go.”
She pressed her lips together and stepped onto the runners of the sled, grasping the handles with shaking fingers. Mr. Larsen had piled some sacks of flour on the front of the sled so it wouldn’t be too light, and she supposed she was as ready as she’d ever be. “All right,” she said, closing her eyes tight and then opening them again. “Ready.”
“Off you go, then.”
The longer she thought about it, the more she’d delay. Without giving it another thought, she yelled, “Mush!” as she’d been taught to do. Mr. Larsen had explained that it had nothing to do with eating porridge, as it sounded like, but rather, came from the French “marche,” meaning, to walk. She’d been glad for the explanation—she’d always wondered what porridge had to do with dog sledding.
As soon as the word left her mouth, her new furry friends leaped forward, and she could understand why Calvin had gone flying on his first attempt. The sled moved forward with a jerk, and if she hadn’t been hanging on with a white-knuckled grip, she would have flown right off as well. Instead, she adjusted her feet a bit better as the sled moved across the frozen surface of the snow, and found herself really enjoying the moment. She almost wished she could bark right along with the dogs—they had such a free and easy way of expressing their joy.
She didn’t manage to turn very smoothly and nearly fell off as she brought the dogs back around, but she did maintain her grip, and she was very pleased with herself when she finally stepped off the runners, her legs like jelly. “How did I do?” she asked breathlessly.
Mr. Larsen nodded, a big grin on his face. “We’ll make a musher out of you yet,” he replied.
***
The morning patrol didn’t have anything to report, and now Robert and Calvin were riding out to investigate the eastern sections of land they’d marked out on the map. Malcolm was holding down the office while Colton went home, and it seemed that their rotation schedule was working well. Calvin smiled to himself as they cantered along, thinking about how nice it had felt to ride with Faith’s arms around his waist. She was so trusting, it made him want to be even more worthy of that trust.
“I know there are some trap lines laid out through those trees,” Robert said, motioning off to the left. They’d veered off the trail several moments before, hoping to create an element of surprise, but in many spots, the undergrowth was still too thick, and their horses had to be selective in their footing. That was just as well because the traps were more likely to be in the spots where the horses couldn’t step. Calvin hated to imagine what would happen if a horse were to be caught in a bear trap, for instance—it could snap the poor animal’s fetlock and cause untold suffering.
“And trapper cabins?” Calvin asked.
“Just a couple that we’ve been told about. Malcolm said he’s been asking around.” Robert dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. As he handed it over to Calvin, he added, “What I wouldn’t give for decent street addresses out here.”
Calvin studied the page. Three fur trappers, with directions such as one mile past the fork in the trail. He chuckled. “Yeah, this is hardly useful, but it’s the best we have for a start.”
They rode around in what felt like circles, searching for any signs of activity. Here and there, they found footprints and hoof prints, but they didn’t stumble upon anything that looked at all suspicious. Calvin was beginning to wonder if he’d even know what something suspicious looked like.
“Time to head back in,” Robert said after a few hours had gone by. Calvin was glad to hear it, as his nose had long since lost all feeling, but he was disappointed as well. He knew he shouldn’t expect results on their first time out, and yet he disliked feeling as though all that time had been wasted.
“We’ll bring them in,” Robert said, clapping his hand on Calvin’s shoulder. Somehow, the more experienced Mountie knew what Calvin was thinking and feeling—he’d probably been there himself many times.
Chapter Nine
Faith’s legs were still rubbery from her driving lesson, but she managed to get some bread in the oven and start some soup for dinner. It was almost like she could still feel the vibration under her feet and flowing through her hands. She supposed it was just a matter of getting used to it, but for now, it certainly felt odd to be standing on solid flooring and to feel as though it was slipping out from under her.
A knock came at the door, and she moved to answer it. It was almost dark, and she startled when she found herself looking into the face of a skinned rabbit.
“Surprise!” The rabbit was lowered, and behind it was the face of a certain suspected moonshiner. “I was out hunting and bagged one more rabbit th
an I really needed, and I thought you might use a little extra thank you for your hospitality.”
Faith caught her breath and smiled. “Thank you, Henry. That’s so thoughtful of you. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, but thank you, ma’am. I’m heading home now and want to get there before too much later.” He handed her the rabbit, touched the brim of his hat, and then paused.
“Ma’am, would you like me to remove the head for you before I go?”
“Oh, yes, please, Henry. I’d be so grateful.”
He grinned, took the rabbit back, and stepped out of sight. From the sound, she assumed that he’d moved over to the chopping block and made use of the ax. She tried not to shudder thinking about it. She wasn’t necessarily squeamish, but she didn’t enjoy pondering on all the things that went into making a meal from a once-live animal.
Henry brought the rabbit back, gave her another grin, and disappeared into the evening light.
Faith stood in the doorway for a long moment, holding the rabbit, perplexed. Fresh meat was a blessing, and not something she’d ever turn down, but she’d never cooked a rabbit in her life. How in the world . . .?
Finally, she carried it over to the counter, placed it in a large bowl, washed her hands, and crossed over to Minnie’s cabin. If ever she needed cooking advice, it was now.
Minnie laughed when Faith told her about opening the door to see the rabbit staring at her. “Oh, my,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “Yes, that must have startled you.”
“It was just staring at me with this accusing look,” Faith said, unable to keep from pulling a face as she spoke. “Like it blamed me for everything, but it wasn’t my fault.”
Minnie giggled. “Well, I can’t help you with that, but I can tell you how to cook it. Did you want to serve it tonight, or did you want to freeze it for later? You could put it in a snow basin and eat it another time.”
“I think I’d as soon cook it now,” Faith replied.
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