“How are you feeling?” he asked Marguerite.
She smiled up at him. “Much better now that I am getting fresh air.”
Her parents had been reluctant to let her out for such a long walk, but he had assured them that he would look after her.
“If necessary we will come back for her in our caleche,” Etienne said.
With the melting of the snow and the coming of spring an open carriage called a caleche had replaced the larger winter cariole.
“William has decided to appoint Uncle Pierre as the head of the recruiting for the paddle and in charge of the voyage,” Phillippe heard Antoinette say.
“How can he do that?” Jeanne asked. “I thought the men do not like him. He is too hot headed.”
“But he does know the men and the fur trade. If his stories are half true he will get us the best deal.”
“If you can trust him.” Jeanne said.
“Andrew will keep an eye on him and will record all the transactions.”
Phillippe did not like the way his sister and cousin talked about his and their uncle. Everyone seemed to dislike him and yet they all knew he was the best voyageur in Montreal and probably in the province of Quebec. They did not have the memories he had of Uncle Pierre, a man who took him fishing when he could barely walk, who took him hunting as soon as he could hold a gun, who got him hired on with William as a birthday gift. And it seemed they had forgotten that Uncle Pierre also risked his life when he jumped into the river to save Jean-Luc a few years ago. Just because Louis was the one who actually grabbed Jean-Luc and carried him out of the water did not take away from Uncle Pierre’s brave act. They would change their minds once he came back with the best furs for the merchant house.
Pierre glanced down at Marguerite. She had a smile on her face and her eyes were shiny. He felt the familiar tug at his heart. He wondered if he was in love with her. He was not sure what love was but he felt a strong need to be with her and he missed her when they were apart. He liked to feel his arm around her and liked when she hugged him. He wondered if it was a sin to love and want a woman who was going to be a nun. Was it against God’s rules to feel the way he did about his cousin?
He did not dare say anything to her or to anyone else. Maybe he would ask Uncle Pierre while they were on their trip west. He would know the answer. And that way Phillippe would know how to act towards her when he came back.
* * *
As they neared the church Jeanne saw Florian standing outside the door. Her pace faltered.
“What is it,” Antoinette asked. She followed her cousin’s gaze. “Oh.”
“Oh, is right,” Jeanne muttered. She had been trying to avoid Florian the past few weeks. He had asked her father for her hand in marriage and had been given approval. When he had proposed marriage to her, fear had engulfed her instead of happiness and she had asked for time to decide.
At one time she had thought it did not matter who she married, but things had changed during the spring. Andrew had begun to pay more attention to her, taking her on drives and walks. He seemed much happier as if now that the winter was over he could enjoy his life here. She knew it was Andrew she loved and was willing to wait to see what he did.
But what to do about Florian. He had written letters to her, shown up at her home with gifts, professed his love to her. If she answered no to his proposal and Andrew did not ask her to marry him, then she would not realize her dream to marry and have children. But she needed to tell Florian now because it was not fair to him to take so long. If he wanted to marry, then he should be given the opportunity to do so.
Florian smiled broadly when he saw her. She returned his smile but her heart did not do its flip. She realized it had not done so since he had proposed.
“May I join you?” Florian asked.
Jeanne looked at the others. They nodded their consent. The five of them found a pew and sat down.
Florian immediately reached for Jeanne’s hand. He held it between both of his. “I will be leaving soon,” he said quietly. “I would like an answer before then so I have something to look forward to on my return.”
Jeanne looked at him and wished the feelings for him of her younger years, or even a few weeks ago would return. He was so handsome and seemed to care so much. He would make a wonderful husband. But she liked to believe that love was important in marriage and she knew that she did not love him.
“We will talk after church,” she said.
He stared into her face as if trying to see the answer there. She dropped her eyes and heard him groan. He let go of her hand and sat back in the pew.
During the sermon Jeanne did her best to concentrate on what the priest was saying but her mind wanted to go over the conversation she would be having with Florian. She knew he had figured what her answer would be when she dropped her eyes but she still had to say it. And it would be hard. She hated to hurt him.
She glanced over at Marguerite. Like their parents she was worried about her sister making the walk to the church. But she seemed invigorated to be in the building. She was raptly listening to the sermon, mouthing the words as the priests read from the Bible.
Her eyes moved to Phillippe. She almost gasped at the look of love in his eyes as he watched Marguerite. That was the look she wanted to see in Andrew’s eyes when he looked at her. She wondered if Phillippe knew that he loved Marguerite. Everyone, including Phillippe, knew she wanted to go to the convent in France to become a nun. He must know his love would not be returned.
Chapter Thirteen
“I need him to help encourage young men to join the fur brigade,” Pierre said.
“And I need him to help me with the planting,” Louis said.
The brothers glared at each other across the kitchen table. They had been arguing since Pierre arrived to pick up Phillippe. Pierre had explained the shortage of voyageurs due to so many staying inland and the other merchants signing up most of the remaining the previous fall. William had been trying to hire paddlers all winter with little success. Pierre was now going to the small farming areas to hire farm boys. He wanted Phillippe along to show the young boys that someone their own age was going too.
“This is of benefit to your daughter and son-in-law. They need the paddlers or their business will fail.”
“If I do not have Phillippe to help me with the planting, my farm will fail.”
“It will not and you know it,” Pierre scoffed. “You just do not want Phillippe to go west.”
“I will admit that I am afraid for him.”
“Why?” Pierre asked. “You went and survived, Etienne also came back safely. And I do not have to tell you about my years.”
“But not everyone is as lucky as us three. Many break limbs, many get sick, and many die on the rapids.”
“He has me to look after him.”
“That, I am also afraid of. I know what you are like when you get drinking. You start fights with the other men, you complain about the food. Even though you deny it everyone knows that you steal whenever you get a chance. You will be a wrong influence on Phillippe. I saw that the night you took him to the tavern.”
“That was for a little fun. He needs some experience to be accepted by the other voyageurs. I will bet he has not even smoked his pipe. He will embarrass himself on the paddle if he has not tried to inhale before then.”
“Everyone has their first summer,” Louis said. “It is understood that he will not be able to do the work or act the role of a voyageur.”
“I did,” Pierre said. “My first year I could carry the packs as well as the older men. I could paddle as hard as anyone. That is why I am still the best voyageur today.”
“Do not let the fact that William signed you on go to your head. You know that William had decided to hire Phillippe as a birthday present to him and you only were hired because you agreed to look after him. Do not think it was because you are a great voyageur. We have all heard the stories about you not being able to do your work anymore, tha
t you rest on the portage and pull your paddle when you should be paddling.”
Pierre knew it was true but he had thought he had hidden his pain well. But he did not have time to mull that over. He had to get more voyageurs hired.
“Why do we not leave the decision to Phillippe?” Pierre asked. “After all, he is an adult now and can make up his own mind.”
“I will call him.”
* * *
Phillippe ran around the corner of the house. He had seen his Uncle Pierre’s horse standing in the yard when he finished plowing the garden for his mother. He wanted to surprise him so he had snuck up to the house. Now he wished he had not. He did not want to believe what he had overheard.
Uncle Pierre had lied to him. He had not gotten him hired as a voyageur. William had already decided to sign him on. But Antoinette and William did not believe he would be a good voyageur and hired his uncle to look after him. And everyone knew about it. Everyone in his family had lied to him. How they must be laughing at him.
He was so disappointed, just as disappointed as he had been on his birthday when he had thought he would never become a voyageur. Only now it was because his family had so little faith in him. And Phillippe did not know why. What had he done or not done that would make his family think that he could not take care of himself and do his job?
Phillippe slumped against the outer wall of the house. The hurt was deep in his chest. He wished he was leaving tomorrow on the paddle so he would not have to spend any more time with them.
He heard his father calling his name but he did not want to answer. He did not want to face anyone in his family right now. But he had also heard that Uncle Pierre wanted him to go with him to small towns and farms to help recruit new paddlers. Again, though, it was not because he thought Phillippe would be good at convincing other boys to join but because he would be an example to those boys. He could just stand in a corner and have his uncle point to him every once in a while.
Phillippe’s disappointment turned to anger. He had never felt so angry. It engulfed his mind and tightened his stomach. He punched the wall of the house. How could they think so little of him? How could they? He worked hard on the farm, he visited Marguerite when he was in Montreal and took her out when she felt up to it. What more could he do to prove he was worthy of being treated like a man?
He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm. There were two ways he could deal with his family’s lack of respect for him and his abilities. He could take revenge on everyone, sabotage the paddle so that Uncle Pierre would look bad and William and Antoinette would lose money. Then next year he would sign on with someone else or maybe go inland and never come back.
Or, he could prove them wrong. He could demonstrate to William that he had hired a true voyageur; he could show his uncle that he did not need looking after; he could impress the rest of the family with his strength to overcome the hardships of the paddle he was about to face.
As much as the revenge idea appealed to him, he still loved his family and he could not knowingly harm any of them. He would have to prove his worth and that would start today.
He stepped out from around the house.
* * *
Pierre was dressed in his leggings, moccasins, red shirt, sash, and had on his cap with his Northman feathers in it. He struck an impressive figure and in spite of himself, Phillippe could feel his admiration rising. Years of hero worship could not be wiped out easily.
They had just arrived in La Prairie where Pierre found the local tavern. They entered the building and Pierre headed to the table nearest the door. Phillippe sat beside him. The room was mainly filled with young men. Pierre ordered an ale from the barmaid. Phillippe refused a drink.
“What?” Pierre demanded. “If you are going to be a voyageur you have to drink with the men.”
“I really do not want any.” The memory of his visit to the tavern with his uncle was still fresh in his mind. He had never felt so sick and he still reddened at the remembrance of his father undressing him and putting him to bed. He really did not want to experience any of that again.
“Bring the boy a beer,” Pierre said, winking at the barmaid. “We will make a man of him yet.”
When they had their drinks in front of them Pierre began talking in a voice loud enough to carry across the room.
“Did I tell you about the time Bernard and I ran into two Indians while we were portaging on the Mattawa River?”
Phillippe shook his head on cue. “No,” he said. “Tell me.”
Pierre took a drink from his tankard giving enough time for the words to sink in to his audience. Phillippe could see that the others in the room had turned to look at them. Pierre set the tankard down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and began his tale.
“Bernard and I were each carrying two ninety pound packs on our backs. We were walking along the trail when two Indians jumped out of the trees. They stood in front of us and pointed at the packs gesturing that they wanted them. Bernard and I grinned at each other as we dropped the packs on the ground. We each picked one up and held them in our hands. We nodded at them.”
Here he paused to take another drink. Phillippe saw that the young men were hanging on his uncles words, waiting eagerly to hear what they did. He sipped his ale. It did not taste any better than the last time he had had some. Should he make an effort to like it? After all, every man in the room had enjoyed more than one. He took another drink.
“The Indians started towards us. We stood and waited until they got close. When they were a few steps away we threw the packs at them. The force of those heavy packs toppled both the Indians and the weight knocked the wind out of them. They tried feebly to push the packs off their chests as they fought to get their breath back.”
When the laughter in the room had died down Phillippe asked. “What did you do then?”
“We picked up the two packs off the ground, walked over and got the two packs off them and continued on our way. When we looked back they were just getting to their feet and had to scramble out of the way of the other men carrying their bundles. We never saw them again.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the tavern while Pierre narrated more stories. In the evening a fiddler came to the tavern and Pierre danced with the barmaid while the men clapped.
Phillippe moved to a table in the corner. One of the young men who had been listening to Pierre came and sat with him.
“My name is Maurice,” he said.
“Phillippe.”
“Are you going?” Maurice asked.
Phillippe nodded.
“Have you been there before?”
“No, this is my first time.”
“It sounds exciting.”
“My uncle has a lot more stories. I have been listening to them since I was a child.”
“I am going to sign up.” Maurice said. “My father will not like it. He wants me to stay and help with the bakery. But I want to have some fun in my life. I want to go west and see what the land is like. I want to make some money.”
“I will tell my uncle,” Phillippe said. He waved to Pierre who came over to the table.
“This is Maurice and he wants to sign up.”
“Good, good.” Pierre pulled a contract from his shirt. “Just sign this piece of paper.”
Maurice signed his name to the contract. “Now what?” he asked.
“All you have to do is be in Montreal for the launching on May 1st,” Pierre said.
Pierre set the unsigned contracts on the table. “You can look after these,” he said to Phillippe. He returned to the bar and spent the rest of the evening enjoying the company of the barmaid.
Phillippe picked up the contracts and walked to each of the tables. Two more boys and one man put their X on a contract before the evening was over. Phillippe was not sure if they really understood what they were signing, all of them being quite drunk.
Pierre finally staggered back to their table. Phillippe wondered if he had for
gotten the reason they were there. He showed his uncle the contracts he had gotten signed.
“Well done,” Pierre said. He tried to clap Phillippe on the back and almost fell out of his chair.
The door opened and another man dressed in a voyageur outfit entered. He looked around the room and scowled at Pierre when he saw him.
“I supposed you have signed everyone here.”
“Yoursh too late,” Pierre slurred, waving the contracts in the air.
The man went to a far table and ordered an ale. He talked with some of the men around him but no one signed a contract he pushed towards them.
When the tavern closed Phillippe guided an inebriated Uncle Pierre to the stables where they had left their horses. They spent the night in an empty stall.
As Phillippe lay on the prickly hay he decided he was glad he had agreed to come. He was going to show William that he had hired a man who would do his job. He was going to show everyone he could be counted on to work hard for his money. If William needed more men, Phillippe would help his uncle find them or find them himself as he had done that night. They were up against some competition. Other merchants needed more voyageurs and it was a race to sign up paddlers.
They would have to get up early to beat the man to the next community.
He thought about his family. The feeling of letdown was still there. He wondered if he should ask William if what he had heard was true. No. Why let them know he knew about it?
His thoughts turned to Marguerite. He had not seen her for a while. He wondered if she, too, thought he could not look after himself. He fingered the cross on the chain around his neck. When she had given it to him on his birthday, she had told him he was stronger than he thought. He now believed it and he hoped she really did, also.
West to Grande Portage Page 9
