Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(84)
Angelique straightened and, at the sight before her, gasped. There, crisscrossing Pierre’s back, were at least a hundred red welts, some of them wide scabs where his skin had been ripped open.
With trembling fingers she reached out and grazed his mangled flesh. He stiffened and slowly turned. His mirth was gone. In its place was a deadly seriousness, an acknowledgment of how close he’d come to dying.
“How did you bear it?” she whispered, her lips quivering at the thought of the pain he’d endured.
“I’m tough,” he said with a gentle smile. “And I deserved it. I shouldn’t have been playing both sides or been so deceptive.”
He grabbed his shirt from a nearby boulder where he’d spread it to dry. He jerked it over his head as if anxious to hide the marred skin.
“Don’t worry,” she teased, “you’re still just as handsome as you’ve always been.”
He paused, the shirt only half on. Then with a grin he flexed one of his arms, showing off the muscles there.
Red Fox leveled a censuring glare at Pierre. “His head is already as big as a moose’s. You should not make it bigger.”
“That’s why Pierre likes me so much,” Angelique said, smiling. “I supply him with plenty of praise for his oversized pride.”
Red Fox didn’t smile back. Instead his eyes narrowed on her.
Pierre tugged his shirt down his chest and then slid his arm around Angelique’s waist, drawing her to his side. “Admit it,” he said to Red Fox. “She’s perfect for me.”
Even though Pierre’s tone was playful, there was a hint of something serious and expectant as he watched Red Fox.
The sun glinted off Red Fox’s strip of hair and the grease he slathered over his body on a regular basis. His expression was sharp, and Angelique had to resist the urge to cower against Pierre.
The brave turned back to the canoe, retrieving the grain sack that contained all the possessions Angelique owned. He held it out to her with a nod. “She is good for my brother.”
Angelique sensed that Red Fox wasn’t the type of man to give praise lightly, and she nodded at him with her thanks, hoping he could see that her gratitude went much deeper than his kind words.
“She’s mine now,” Pierre said, his arm tightening possessively. “Forever and always mine.”
Her heart expanded with a love so fierce, she was helpless to do anything but hug him in return. Although the warning in her head clanged louder, for now all she wanted to do was enjoy being in his arms again, she was too happy to think about anything but their being together. Later she would sort through how she needed to do the right thing this time.
Chapter
23
The brigade teased him mercilessly about Angelique, for he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. After the past several days of waiting for Red Fox to catch up to them, he’d nearly driven his men crazy with his worry.
He hadn’t wanted to stop and wait for Red Fox. He knew he needed to put as much distance between himself and Michilimackinac as possible. He had no doubt Lieutenant Steele and Colonel McDouall would send out an Indian war party to hunt him down. And when they found him, they’d kill him on the spot. In fact, he expected they’d cut him up limb by limb and completely destroy every trace that he’d ever existed.
The officers would be desperate to make sure he was silenced. They couldn’t risk any word spreading that he was alive. Such news would only make them look inept. After all, no prisoner had ever escaped from the Black Hole or the fort before, and they wouldn’t want anyone to think it had happened under their command.
But after three days of paddling hard with his crew, Pierre hadn’t been able to shake the worry that something had happened to Red Fox and Angelique. So he’d stopped. And they’d waited all morning, until he’d been as tense as a bowstring.
When he’d finally heard Red Fox’s war cry and caught sight of Angelique’s stunning red curls, his relief had swelled in his chest, almost choking him. He’d wanted to linger on the beach with Angelique, had wished he could send his brigade ahead so that he could have a whole afternoon alone with her to fish and hike and talk for endless hours. But one grave nod from Red Fox toward the east told him that a war party was on their trail.
They loaded their canoes with their usual speed. Then he tucked Angelique securely behind him in his spot at the head canoe, and they pushed off from the shore.
They paddled swiftly, and he prayed their speed as experienced voyageurs would give them an advantage over the band of Indians on his trail.
Even with the threat of danger creeping up on him, he relished every moment of the day spent with Angelique so near. They managed to talk more than he’d expected. She was full of questions about all that she saw.
As the day wore on, he could almost believe Angelique belonged in the canoe behind him, that she could fit into his life as a fur trader. Even in Lavinia’s fancy gown, she maneuvered with a naturalness that had likely developed over the years from all her fishing. She wasn’t afraid, didn’t complain, and seemed to enjoy the ride. With each passing mile she’d observed the landscape with an eagerness that fueled his own love of the land.
Had he been wrong to think he couldn’t bring a wife along during his voyages?
He urged the brigade onward until well past dark, using the excuse that he wanted to get as far away from Michilimackinac as he could. He didn’t have the will to tell them that he was being hunted. He wanted to deny the truth for as long as possible—the truth that eventually he would have to leave his brigade and strike out on his own. It was the only way to keep his men and Angelique safe.