21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
T he evening had worn on and the sun had fallen, but the campfires in the stockade yard still burned bright. Rain no longer fell, but the air was cold, and the yard was full of mud. Laughter filtered through the open door into the trading room, where Reid worked on his ledger by the light of a candle. His voyageurs were enjoying the company of about a dozen Chippewa men and women who had come to trade at the post that day, making it the most successful day Reid had had since arriving at Crow Wing.
But it had come at a cost, and Reid was angry with himself for giving in to the alcohol.
Instead of leaving when the trading had been complete, the Indians had stayed to share the rum they had been given in exchange for their fur. Reid’s men were more than happy to relieve them of their alcohol, and they had been celebrating ever since. Jacques was among them, not because he was drinking, but because Reid had asked him to keep the peace and if anything escalated out of control, to let Reid know.
Two voices rose above the others, and Reid paused in his work to listen. One was the voice of a voyageur and one of an Indian. If he was correct, they were having words about one of the women in the gathering.
Concern tightened Reid’s muscles as he waited. Would the argument continue? Or would they find a resolution to whatever had caused their anger?
Standing, he went to the open door and looked out at the yard. Two campfires were lit inside the stockade gate. Both were encircled with men and women standing in their capotes and furs. A dog lay in the mud near one of the Indian men, and two children sat huddled together along the stockade wall, all but forgotten in the cold night air.
Reid stepped out of the trading room, and several of the voices quieted as people watched him approach. He hated that they were still drinking, but he’d made his choice. His job was to get the trade. The only way to get the trade was to give the trading Indians what they wanted, and many of them wanted alcohol. If Reid couldn’t do what was necessary to get their business, then he had no reason to be in the interior.
But the children shouldn’t suffer.
Jacques left one of the fires and approached Reid. “Bonjour, Bourgeois.”
“Who is arguing?” Reid asked.
“Robert. He has taken liberties with a woman who did not offer them.”
“Call him to me.” Reid would send Robert to bed so he would cause no more trouble.
“Oui.” Jacques bowed.
“And who do those children belong to?”
Jacques glanced in the direction Reid pointed. The surprise on his face suggested he hadn’t even noticed the small boy and girl.
“I am not sure. I will ask.”
“I would like to bring them into the trading room to stay warm until their parents are ready to leave.” He might not be able to keep their parents from being drunk, but he could offer them some heat and a bit to eat. “Have Robert and the children come into the trading room.”
“Oui.” Jacques left, and Reid returned to the trading room to wait. Though he had a fire blazing in the hearth, he continued to keep the door open to monitor the campfires.
The door from the storage room creaked open, and Charlotte entered the trading room.
“I told you to stay inside.” Reid walked over to Charlotte and took hold of the door, shielding her from the people around the campfires.
“You didn’t join me for supper.” She held a plate of pork and beans. “They’re getting cold.”
“Thank you.” He took the plate and set it on the counter but doubted he would eat. Maybe he’d give the food to the children.
Charlotte looked toward the open door, her lips thinning with displeasure.
“You should go to bed,” he told her. “We’ll have an early morning again.”
“Will it be like this every night?”
He hated seeing the disappointment in her eyes. He was disappointed enough with himself.
“Not every night. But most.”
“I have Robert and the children.” Jacques entered the trading room, a disgruntled Robert at his side. The short voyageur was as grizzly as they came, with long whiskers and small, sharp eyes.
“You’re not needed,” Reid said to Charlotte. He tried to close the door, but she saw the children and wouldn’t budge.
“They’re cold,” she said with compassion.
“Aye.”
The children still clung to one another, their large brown eyes filled with uncertainty as they took in Reid, Charlotte, and the trading room. They couldn’t be more than four and five years old.
“Come here,” Charlotte said in Chippewa. “Warm yourself by the fire.” She moved away from Reid and walked toward the fireplace in the corner of the room. She knelt on the ground near the hearth and motioned for the children to join her.
Jacques nudged the little girl forward, and she came warily into the room, the little boy at her side.
“What do you want with me?” Robert asked impatiently. “I’d like to return to the fire.”
“You won’t be returning tonight.” Reid crossed his arms. “I want you to turn in early. Tomorrow you’ll be sent to hunt at daybreak.”
Robert smelled of rum, and his eyes were glazed from the effects of the alcohol. He grunted. “I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“I disagree.” Reid stepped between Robert and the three at the fireplace.
Charlotte took Reid’s plate of food and handed it to the little girl, whispering words of encouragement to her and the boy. Either she was oblivious to the drunken voyageur, or she was trying to distract the children. Either way, he was thankful she was taking care of the boy and girl.
“I want you in your bunk now,” Reid said to Robert, his voice filled with warning. “I’ll not have you disobeying orders.”
“And I said I’d be fine in the morning.” Robert turned and stumbled out of the trading room.
“Robert!” Reid called to the man.
But Robert didn’t respond. Instead, he strode back to the campfire and stopped next to a woman who didn’t look pleased to see him again.
Sighing, Reid nodded at Jacques to return to Robert. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Jacques left the trading room, and Reid turned to Charlotte.
She glanced at him, but didn’t speak. Instead, she turned her attention to the children and smiled.
The little girl helped feed her brother while watching Charlotte and Reid closely.
“They’re beautiful,” Charlotte said quietly. “But they look so scared.”
“They are freezing.” Reid took a blanket from a pile on a shelf and wrapped it around the children.
Charlotte set another piece of wood on the fire and sat on the ground across from the boy and girl. Her face had softened in a way he’d never seen before.
“Do you hope to have a family one day?” he asked.
A tender smile curved her lips as she looked at the children. “One day.”
She would make a good mother. She had all the qualities a mother needed. Courage, selflessness, kindness, and patience.
“Do you hope to have a family?” she asked, finally looking up at him.
He had not thought about a family of his own over the past fifteen years. He’d been too preoccupied with his career. But more importantly, he’d not found someone he wanted to create a life with.
Until now.
He inhaled at the thought, trying to push aside his feelings, though they were growing stronger with each passing day. He had to remind himself that it was an impossible match, not only because he was a bourgeois in the North West Company and she was an English lady, but also because her fiancé was on his way to claim her.
Yet he couldn’t help but wonder. If Stephen hadn’t been on his way, would Charlotte even consider marrying him? Did her feelings for him run as deep as his did for her?
It was a pointless thing to consider. What would he do if they married? He was so close to becoming a shareholder that it would be ridiculous to leave the trade now. And besides, he couldn’t let Lachlan win—not now, not when he was so close to finally proving to himself and his father that he was the better man. He had a responsibility to the North West Company to secure the trade. And it would be impossible to marry Charlotte and then leave her. It would drive him mad. Yet he couldn’t keep her in the interior either. Not only was it against the rules for European women, but it was no life for her—and if there were children, he could not keep her identity a secret.
“Reid?” She watched him carefully, questions in her beautiful brown eyes.
It wasn’t the first time he’d contemplated these thoughts, but it should be the last. It was too hard to feel a moment of hope and then dash it with all the reasons why it would never work. Not to mention that she might never agree to such a match. She’d chosen Stephen, and it wasn’t Reid’s place to ask her to make a different choice.
“What did you ask me?”
“Do you want a family?”
He nodded, his smile sad. “Aye. But only with the right lass.”
She studied him for a moment, and his insides warmed at the look in her eyes.
Voices rose in the stockade yard again, and this time, they were louder and more forceful than before. Someone screamed, and the hair on the back of Reid’s neck rose.
“Go,” she said. “I’ll stay with the children.”
He wanted to remain with her, but he had no choice. He must deal with Robert—and the consequences of allowing alcohol in his trading post.
Charlotte’s body was weary from another restless night. She lay in the living quarters, near the fireplace, early the next morning. Her eyes burned, but she was unable to sleep. The little boy and girl were asleep on a pile of fur beside her, their parents having either forgotten them or passed out in the fort yard, despite the cold and the mud.
She had never seen anything like the night they had just endured and had no desire to witness it again. Surely Reid would not allow the men to drink after this.
The sun was nearly kissing the horizon, but the revelry had just died down. Perhaps Charlotte could catch a few minutes of sleep before everyone awoke. Hopefully Reid had found some sleep in the trading room, because she had not seen him for hours.
Would he rouse the men and put them all to work at first light? If she had her way, there would be no rest for anyone at Fort McCoy this day.
The front door creaked open. Charlotte raised her head, expecting to see the children’s parents, but it was Daanis who entered the room. She tiptoed inside and gently closed the door behind her.
Charlotte didn’t move.
Why had Daanis come so early in the morning? And why had she come into Reid’s quarters?
The table and chairs were between Charlotte and Daanis, shielding Charlotte and the children as Daanis silently walked across the room and went into the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
Frowning, Charlotte raised herself on her elbow. Should she go after Daanis and ask her what she needed? Uncertainty weighed Charlotte to the spot.
After a few moments, the hallway door opened again, and Charlotte lay down on instinct. She closed her eyes and listened as Daanis walked back across the room and left the row house.
Charlotte finally stood and went to the door. She opened it slowly. Several people were asleep in the yard, but Reid was not there.
Daanis walked around the side of the row house and sent a glance over her shoulder toward one of the smoldering campfires. Charlotte frowned. Where was she going—and more importantly, why had she come?
Charlotte grabbed her coat off the hook and slipped it over her shoulders as she left the row house to follow.
Daanis moved behind Noemie and Jean-Paul’s cabin, further perplexing Charlotte. There was a small gate at the back of the post for easy access to that side of the fort, but it was rarely used.
Charlotte stepped lightly through the slippery mud and hugged the side of Noemie’s cabin as she peeked her head around the corner. The early dawn offered enough light for Charlotte to watch Daanis slip out of the fort through the small gate.
Now more curious than ever, Charlotte walked to the gate and pushed it open. She looked right and then left—and that’s when she saw Lachlan. He stood near a tree, not far from the post.
Daanis handed something to him, but they were too far away for Charlotte to see what it was.
Her heart beat hard as she peered around the gate.
After Daanis handed him the object, Lachlan put his hand on her stomach and said something that Charlotte struggled to hear.
Daanis nodded and looked as if she wiped away a tear.
What were they discussing?
Charlotte’s pulse picked up speed, drumming loudly in her ears. What had Daanis taken from Reid? And why did Lachlan want it?
Her limbs trembled, and she wished she had not followed Daanis. She began to retreat, but the mud oozed under her shoes and made her foot slide. She braced herself against the gate, trying not to fall.
“Who’s there?” Lachlan asked.
Panic overwhelmed Charlotte, and the need to flee overcame her, but she couldn’t get her feet to move.
Daanis screamed.
Charlotte turned toward the sound.
Lachlan had a pistol pointed at her. Before Charlotte could cry out for him to stop, the pistol fired and a searing pain tore through her right shoulder, forcing her backward into the ground.
Her head struck something hard, and the world started to fade.