Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(61)

Pierre pulled the paddle up, rested it on the edge, and let the waves carry him toward the shore. The lake was much calmer this morning than it had been the other times he’d gone out. He was grateful for the easy trip back to the island.

He wiped his hand across his eyes, fighting a heavy weariness. The mist had soaked into his clothes, making him shiver in the cool morning air. What he really needed was to go back to the farm, do the chores, and then sleep for a couple of hours. But there was no time for any of that. The Americans would be arriving on the north end of the island as soon as the fog burned away. Hopefully they’d be able to take the British by surprise.

He had to make sure the landing went according to plan.

With a breath that drew from his last reserves, he plunged the paddle back into the lake and began the steady rhythm he’d practiced over the years, first one side of the canoe and then the other.

The bow scraped against something.

He rammed the paddle deeper, pushing backward. Had he hit a boulder, and if so, how? He knew the island so well that he could navigate the shoreline blind and still not have trouble.

He strained to see through the mist that blocked even the hand he raised in front of his face. For an instant the fog thinned and he caught a glimpse of the side of another birchbark canoe . . . and a tumble of red curls.

“Angelique?” he called.

“Pierre!” came her surprised reply.

He steered in the direction of her voice, bringing his canoe alongside hers. He fumbled blindly, found the edge and latched on, holding the vessels together.

“What are you doing out here?” Her question came at the same time as his.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he answered, dodging the truth. “You should be back in the fort where it’s safe.” The thought of her being outside the walls of the fort, with the imminent threat of a battle with the Americans, turned his blood cold.

“The colonel wanted me to fish this morning. He’s worried they’ll have another shortage of food.”

“I don’t care if every soldier in the fort is starving, you shouldn’t be out here.” How dare the colonel let a young woman venture out alone? He knew the colonel was growing more concerned every day that the American fleet was sitting in the harbor and blocking supply ships from reaching the island. Not only was the colonel needing to feed the soldiers but he was providing for the Indian allies as well. With so many mouths to feed, the supplies never lasted long enough.

Even so, the colonel shouldn’t have allowed Angelique to leave the fort. “Why didn’t he send a couple of his men to fish instead?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. They both knew why Colonel McDouall had sent her. She could make a catch. And the British didn’t know the first thing about fishing in the lake. Even if they had attempted it, they didn’t know the island or how to navigate through the dense fog.

“You shouldn’t have come.” He had the urge to march up to the fort and yell at the colonel for sending a girl out, no matter how well she could fish. “I’m taking you back to the fort right now.”

“I’m fine, Pierre.” She sounded almost amused at his concern. “Besides, I needed a break from Lavinia’s perfume.”

He couldn’t seem to muster any amusement at her attempt at a joke. The situation was too grave. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if she got caught outside the fort during the battle. “Lavinia’s perfume is much better than the stench of blood.”

“Blood?” Alarm tinged her voice. “Whose blood? Are you hurt?”

“I’m just cold and tired.” He bit back the revelation of the upcoming attack and his part in it. She didn’t need to know about his secretive dealings. If something happened to him and he was implicated for spying, he didn’t want anyone to turn around and try to hurt her.

“How’s Maman?” he asked, hoping to divert her attention to another subject.

“She’s as well as always.”

“She’s not too mad at me for forcing her to go to the fort?”

“No one can stay mad at you for long.”

He leaned across the distance between them. It seemed like ages ago that he’d held her and kissed her in the garden at the dance and proposed to her again. Had she really said yes or had he only dreamt it?

“Then you’re not mad at me any more for beating up Ebenezer?”

“I was never mad at you.”

“Disappointed in me?” He was disappointed in himself. He’d thought he was changing, becoming a better man, pleasing God with how he lived. But he’d let his temper get the best of him. Even if Ebenezer had insulted Angelique in the most debasing way, he shouldn’t have hit him.

Angelique’s fingers found his on the edge of the canoe. She squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man, Pierre. You want to do what’s right. But sometimes we struggle to do the good we know we ought to.”

He nodded. “I seem to have a war raging inside me. I tell myself I’m going to do the right thing, but then I end up doing the opposite.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. At least you’re learning from your mistakes, and you have your whole life to practice doing what’s right.”

The mist swirling between them parted for a moment so that he could clearly see her pretty face. He reached out and caressed her cheek. “I’ve missed you this week.”