Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(29)
But if anyone caught him leaving the island now that he was back, he’d raise suspicion, maybe even enough that they’d throw him in prison.
As it was, the colonel and Lavinia didn’t know anything. In fact, the colonel still believed he was spying on the Americans for him. He’d resumed their friendship right where he’d left off last summer when he mingled with them in Montreal, though he couldn’t quite muster the same enthusiasm this time.
He wasn’t exactly sure why. Last summer he’d had no problem flirting with Lavinia. He’d considered it one of his more pleasant spying duties.
Maybe he was more uncomfortable now because Angelique had been there watching. What must she think of him? He wished he could confess to her that he had no interest in befriending Lavinia other than what he could gain for the cause.
He didn’t want Angelique to think he was a womanizer, because he wasn’t. Not anymore.
Red Fox tucked the note into the leather pouch at his side and then gave him a curt nod. The bear grease he’d slathered on his arms, chest, and face made him gleam, even in the shade.
“And if any of the North West agents try anything, you have my full permission to riddle them with arrows.”
“You do not need to worry. I have eyes like those of the hawk. Your furs and men will be safe with me.”
Pierre took a deep breath, trying to steady the wild thumping of his heart. Was he making a mistake to stay behind on the island? Even though he trusted Red Fox to help bring the furs safely to Montreal, anything could go wrong.
“I’ll meet you in Montreal in two moons,” Pierre said, hoping he’d have no trouble finding another group heading east in three weeks so that he wouldn’t have to travel alone.
“My brother should stay here until I return at end of summer with supplies.”
Pierre shook his head. He was only staying three weeks, maybe four, just long enough to plant the fields. Then he’d hire someone to help Maman the rest of the summer, someone who could harvest the crops and help her prepare for winter.
“You must do the right thing.” Red Fox’s sober black eyes made him look older and wiser than his eighteen years.
“But that’s the trouble. I don’t know what the right thing is anymore.” Pierre didn’t know what to do when it came to Maman or with his spying. He supposed he’d never really cared before, had just gone about his business without giving anything much thought.
Was God working on him again?
Pierre peered heavenward through the layers of branches. Why did it have to be so painful every time God began working on turning him into a better man?
“You stay with your mother,” Red Fox said. “She needs her son more than her son needs fur.”
“I’ll stay until I can hire the help.”
Red Fox thumped his chest. He was bare except for his breechcloth, leggings, and deer-hide moccasins. “You are my brother.” He then pointed a finger to Pierre’s chest. “You are my brother in here.”
Ever since he’d jumped out of his canoe last spring to rescue Red Fox from drowning in the swollen rapids, the man had been his shadow. No one else had dared to battle the raging river. Everyone else—even Red Fox’s own tribe—had given Red Fox up for dead. They’d all known that any rescue attempt would end in two deaths instead of one.
But Pierre hadn’t been able to stand by and watch Red Fox drown. He’d never been the kind of man to think before acting. Besides, he’d counted on all his years of swimming in the lake to hold him in good stead. And of course he’d always relied on Maman’s prayers.
Thankfully he’d been able to pull Red Fox out of the flooded river. Now the Indian had adopted him as his brother and was willing to do anything for him and go anywhere. Pierre had a feeling the brave wouldn’t be satisfied until he had the chance to save Pierre’s life in return. Pierre hoped such an occasion would never arise.
“My brother should stay,” Red Fox said. “Work hard. Keep out of trouble.”
“Now wait a minute.” Pierre grinned. “Keep out of trouble? That sounds boring.”
“You must keep the Great Spirit happy. Then he will bring me back with many eagle feathers.”
“You are a brave man.” Pierre’s mirth rapidly evaporated at the thought of his brigade leaving without him. “I’ll pray that my God keeps you safe.”
With the war and the lack of supplies coming into Michilimackinac Island, most of the voyageurs and traders had to travel farther east to sell their pelts and restock before returning to the wilderness for another season of trading.
He could only pray that the North West Company agents would be too busy to pay attention to his small brigade. If not for Red Fox’s willingness to ride the final distance with his men and see them to safety, Pierre wasn’t sure he would have been able to keep his rash promise to Angelique to stay for several weeks to help Maman.
He didn’t know what had made him blurt out that he would stay, but it had come out before he’d been able to stop it. And now here he was stuck on the island, sending Red Fox away with his smuggled letter to the Americans along with his men and furs.
All he could do was watch helplessly as Red Fox disappeared into the forest as silently as he’d come to their secret meeting spot. Fighting a heavy dejection, Pierre wandered among the woods, until the distant chopping of axes drew him toward the high bluff at the center of the island.