Frontier Agreement. Shannon Farrington

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СКАЧАТЬ calculations on that, then her year was complete. “Oh, Mother! What am I to do?”

      Evening Sky wiped her own tears, took her daughter’s hand in hers. “The Great Spirit has been our shield and defender in the past, and in Him we must continue to have faith. He provided safety for you at this fort tonight. The dark-haired Frenchman guarded you, and the American officers succeeded in sending Running Wolf away.”

      Claire vividly remembered the look on Mr. Lafayette’s face, the feel of his fingers over hers. His hands were rough, gnarled, but they had conveyed tenderness and compassion. He’d displayed true Christian charity. He’d defended a woman he barely knew, and he had offered his assistance without command or promise of reward.

      “I did not understand their words, but I could see their hearts,” Evening Sky said. “The officers did not like giving your earnings to my brother. But I believe because of their willingness to do so, Running Wolf was willing to grant you a reprieve from marriage.”

      Hope quickened in Claire’s chest. “A reprieve? For how long?”

      “Until the ice on the Missouri melts and the white men go their own way.”

      This meant March or early April at the most.

      “Much could still happen in that space of time,” her mother reminded her.

      “Yes,” Claire replied, though barely above a whisper. She tried to have faith. Much could happen. A warrior of the tribe could come to salvation or her uncle could, and then he would understand why I do not wish to marry outside my faith.

      Her mother smiled at her softly, then turned and reached for the fabric. “The officers made a gift to you,” Evening Sky said. “The one with the three-corner hat said it is for leggings, but I think he meant to say the word dress.”

      A dress? Claire remembered the indignation she’d felt and shown to Mr. Lafayette when he mentioned payment for her services. The Mandan part of her said dried corn or venison would have been a more useful gift, but the French side of her appreciated the gesture. The thick scarlet broadcloth was beautiful, and it had been a long time since she had worn anything besides animal skin.

      “It is a kind and generous gift,” Claire replied. “I will be certain to thank them.”

      “It reminds me of the bright berries your father used to fill our cabin with at Christmastime.”

      “Indeed.” Claire sighed over the memory. Just a few days from now would mark the celebration of the Savior’s birth, the salvation offered for all who believed. The moccasins Evening Sky was crafting were a present for her brother just for the occasion. She had hoped by offering that gift, he would better understand the gift that God had offered him.

      “I shall make a dress for you for Christmas,” Evening Sky insisted.

      Claire was deeply touched but wanted to tell her not to go to the trouble. Such an article of clothing was unnecessary and certainly impractical for the life she now lived, but she could see the determination in Evening Sky’s eyes, the desire to show love, to give Claire some semblance of the life she had once shared with her beloved father. She sensed how desperately Claire longed for such, especially tonight.

      Running Wolf and the rest of their family would not celebrate Christmas, and now, given what had just happened, Claire wondered if her uncle would even tolerate their prayers and gifts, their lack of participation in certain tribal customs.

      Heaviness weighed upon her once more. Faith battled fear, and for the moment the latter was winning. Yes, God had protected her tonight. Would He continue to do so? She had been offered up to strangers by her own flesh and blood. Mr. Lafayette and the American captains had defended her honor, but the day would come when she and her mother would have to return to the village, return to Running Wolf’s lodge. The ice on the Missouri would eventually melt. What lay in store for her then?

       Chapter Four

      Pierre lay in the darkness, unable to sleep. It wasn’t the snores filling the enlisted men’s quarters that kept him awake. It was the thought of Miss Manette lying in the cabin next door. Had she fallen asleep or was she, like him, staring wide-eyed at the timber ceiling, wondering what the sunrise would bring? Was she even thinking of him at all?

      Probably not, he thought, nor should she be. He told himself he need not think of her any further, either. His captains had acted honorably on her behalf. They had issued orders stating no soldier was to make any trade with Running Wolf. I should leave the matter in their hands.

      But he couldn’t stop himself from feeling concerned. Never in his life had Pierre felt such a kinship with another person as he had when he’d learned of her uncle’s plan. Never before had he found himself praying so fervently for a person he scarcely knew.

      All was calm now, but eventually Miss Manette would leave the protection of this fort. By spring the expedition would be on their way. Then what? What of the next visitors to this land? Will her uncle seek to broker a deal with one of them? Pierre’s indignation burned. He and the rest of the men had been warned not to interfere in Indian affairs, that the consequences could be disastrous, not only to them but also to any other trader who would later venture this way. But I will not see her returned to a man who treats her with such disregard. Upon my word, I will not, for she clearly did not wish to be bound to her uncle’s plan any more than I had wished to be part of my father’s. She should be given a choice in whom she would marry...if she wishes to marry at all.

      But just what he would do to encourage that, Pierre did not know. Advocating such a radical idea in New Orleans, let alone an Indian village, would surely be met with contempt.

      He tossed and turned for hours. When reveille sounded, Pierre slipped from his bedding with no more rest gained than when he had entered it, and Miss Manette was no less on his mind. Shivering like his comrades, he hurried to layer on his furs and buckskin. The cold, however, still seeped through his clothing. This morning the mercury stood at twenty below.

      We wanted to test our mettle, he thought. These temperatures and trials will certainly do so.

      Puling on his last layer of clothing, Pierre pushed open the door and stepped into the snow. Despite the stinging cold, the fort was stirring to life. On the catwalk, the changing of the guard was taking place, the sentries gladly relinquishing their posts to the morning men. To Pierre’s left, the blacksmith was stoking his fire. When the men were all assembled, Captain Clark issued the orders for the day. Breakfast was then served.

      Pierre kept a casual watch, but neither Miss Manette nor her mother appeared for their allotted portion of food. Were they still sleeping, or did embarrassment over last night’s events keep them inside?

      After swallowing the last of his breakfast, Pierre knocked upon the women’s door.

      It creaked open. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had expected to find this morning, but gone was the trembling child from the previous night. A stoic expression filled the mademoiselle’s face. Dark circles lined her eyes. She had slept as little as he.

      “You are unwell,” Pierre said.

      She shook her head. “Not I.” Slipping through the door, she shut it behind her. A gust of wind tightened her face. She pulled her buffalo robe closer about her. “It is my mother,” she said. “My uncle—” She rephrased. “The events of СКАЧАТЬ