Lewis ushered her inside his quarters. Claire stepped in to find Toussaint Charbonneau leaning casually against the wall. Sacagawea was seated on a stool in the corner. She smiled at Claire. Claire returned the expression, but not without difficulty. She knew what the couple’s presence here, clearly on good terms again with the captain, would now mean for her.
Captain Lewis cleared his throat. “As you can see, Miss Manette, Mr. Charbonneau and his wife have returned. Therefore, your services will no longer be needed.”
Her disappointment was palpable. The only emotion stronger was guilt. Foolish girl! Why do you mourn? You knew this work was only temporary. You should have been more careful. You have allowed Pierre Lafayette to become a distraction from your real purpose here!
Captain Lewis walked to his desk. His chair creaked as he sat down. After studying her pensively for a moment, he said, “Miss Manette, I must confess, I am hesitant to see you return to your village. If you wish, I could find other work for you. You could remain here, but you and your mother would have to share the living space with Charbonneau and his wife.”
He signaled for the Frenchman to translate, but Claire held up her hand. She understood the message. If you wish, I could find other work for you... A part of her did wish just that. For all her prayers, for all her talk of faith, she feared returning to her uncle’s lodge.
But what good is postponing the inevitable? She was going to have to go back one day. The longer she remained in Pierre Lafayette’s company, the harder it would be when the time came for him to leave.
And there was a bigger issue at stake here, bigger than the matter of her personal safety. My people need the Lord. And if that means sacrificing my life, my health and happiness, what price is that to pay in the light of eternity?
Her mind was made up. Rather than try to stumble through an explanation in English, she asked Charbonneau to translate. “Thank you, Captain, for your concern. I do appreciate all of the kindness you have shown me and my mother. It has been a great honor to be of assistance to you, but I must return to my people. My family has need of me, and I must not delay any longer.”
Lewis leaned back in his chair, studied her again for a moment. She prayed he would not ask her to reconsider her decision. If he tried to persuade her to stay, she would likely do just that. His kindness served only to make the choice harder to accept. How different her thoughts were of this place than when she first arrived. Here she was protected. Here she was treated with respect.
But I cannot stay! I have to go back to the village!
Captain Lewis sighed. Evidently he recognized her decision as final. “I’ll have one of my men ready a horse. He will escort you and your mother back to the village.”
It would be better if I simply went, she thought, for what soldier might he choose? What if Pierre arrived back at the fort in time to become the commanded escort? Would she be able to say goodbye to him without revealing her growing feelings? “Thank you, Captain, but do no not trouble your soldiers, especially on this day of celebration. I’ve no need for an escort, but if I may beg your indulgence, I’ll take the horse. After I deliver my mother safely to her lodge, I’ll return it to you, along with the first animal you loaned to my uncle.”
If, that is, Running Wolf is willing to return it without incident. Uncertainty washed over her in waves. Oh, God, am I doing the right thing?
But the Almighty did not answer. Captain Lewis shook his head no. “I’ll come for my horses tomorrow,” he said.
Tomorrow. Just what would tomorrow bring? Her uncle had said that her year of mourning had come to an end. Would she be given to the first warrior in sight upon her return to the village? Would Pierre Lafayette sympathize with her plight? Seek to rescue her? Would he even think of her at all?
She was very close to panic, and she knew she could not allow herself to go there. Lord, please give me the courage to follow Your path. Reclaim my heart and please, forgive me for allowing myself to become distracted by earthly pursuits of happiness. Help me remember that no man is my hope. You are my hope.
Her breathing slowed somewhat. “By your leave, Captain,” she said, and with a final curtsy, she turned to go.
Returning to the hut, Claire found her mother up and dressed.
“There is sadness in your eyes,” Evening Sky observed at once.
Claire tried to explain without explaining too much. “Sacagawea’s husband has returned. They have no need for me here now.”
“And we are to return to our village?”
Yes, she should have said, but again she wavered. She told Evening Sky of the captain’s offer.
“And you said no to him.”
Claire nodded. “I did not think it was proper to take work from Sacagawea.”
Her mother smiled knowingly. “That is not all of it.”
“No, it isn’t,” Claire admitted. She could feel the heat building in her cheeks but couldn’t bring herself to admit what exactly was causing it. There were other reasons to leave, very important ones. “We are no longer needed here,” she said. “We are needed there. Besides, these walls are too thin. This cold is not good for you. A warm lodge will be better.”
“You wish to honor me, I know,” her mother said. “But do not try to humor me.” She kissed her daughter’s head. “I am not the only one who occupies your heart.”
“That will soon pass,” Claire said, more for her own benefit than that of her mother. Then she began gathering her belongings. There weren’t that many to sort, just her Bible, comb and brush. The scarlet dress was hanging on a peg in the corner of the room. Conscious of the tremble in her hands, provoked by what it represented, Claire took it down, folded it carefully and placed it inside her deerskin pouch.
With her mother’s meager belongings now packed as well, Claire took one last glance about the hut, gave one last thought to the lists she had compiled here and to the man she’d worked alongside. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she picked up her and her mother’s sacks and stepped outside.
Private Cruzette had readied a horse. He was standing at the gate, waiting for them. Claire helped her mother mount the animal. After securing their bags, she took the reins from the soldier.
“Merci,” she said.
He doffed his cap, then moved to open the door. The wide, white prairie stretched out before her. Resisting the urge to scan the horizon for any sign of the hunting party, Claire started forward. She kept her eyes solely on her destination, the village across the river. There was her future.
Steeling her resolve, she determined to put all thoughts of Pierre Lafayette out of her mind, but as the gate closed behind her, the thoughts came once more. Why did she feel as though she were somehow leaving her life behind?
* * *
“Well done, Lafayette,” Private Howard cheered as the buffalo fell to the snow with a thud. “With this and Coulter’s elk, there will be good eating for the next few days.”
“Indeed,” Pierre said. “A feast.” Just like I promised.
His chest swelled with pride until Jessaume said, “Maybe your squaw can make us some poudingue blanc.”
Pierre’s jaw immediately tightened. It wasn’t that he disliked white pudding, or any other buffalo delicacy. It was who Jessaume thought should prepare the meal—and the way he’d characterized her. “She isn’t my squaw,” he insisted.
Jessaume laughed. “It certainly appeared as though she was last night.”
“Indeed,” added Coulter, “you practically pushed poor Howard out of the way when he tried to sit next to her.”
Now all the men were laughing, except, of course, Pierre. Handing Jessaume his smoking musket, he moved toward his kill. He knew if he were to respond any further to the ribbing he would be in danger of telling a lie—or worse. He’d own up to what he was really thinking about Claire Manett
e, and that was something he wasn’t about to admit to anyone, especially himself.
Claire.
Words could not adequately describe the feeling that came over him when she had given him permission to address her by her Christian name, nor the near rapture he’d experienced as he pressed his lips to her hand.
She was an adventure in her own right, a mixture of mystery and frankness, softness and steel. A woman like that could snuff the flame of wanderlust in a man. And if I’m not careful, that is exactly what will happen to me. I’ll find my roaming cut short, leaving me bound, just like this poor beast here.
Pushing his thoughts of her aside, he began to field dress the animal. As long as he kept focused on his task, he was fine. The second he thought about returning to the fort, he knew he was in trouble. Why was she so prominent in his thoughts? He had seen pretty faces, shared friendships with intelligent women before, but they had never affected him like this.
The men loaded the buffalo on to the sleigh, secured it for transport. Pierre wanted to trek farther, see what else they could find, but Jessaume, Coulter and Howard were against it.
“It’s well after noon now,” Coulter said. “We had better start back if we want to reach the fort before dark.”
“It is supposed to be a holiday,” Pierre grumbled under his breath, but he knew Coulter was right. They had stayed on the plains overnight before and in weather much colder than this, but previously they’d had their captains’ permission to do so. Today we do not.
“Cheer up, man,” Howard teased. “Your mademoiselle will be waiting.”
That was exactly what Pierre feared. He had seen the look in her eyes when he’d bid her good-night. Was she enjoying his company as much as he was hers? If so, that would put a serious strain on his resolve to avoid romance.
It would be a romance that could lead nowhere, have no point. I’m leaving this place and she will remain here.
He sighed to himself. I’ve no one to blame for this but myself. Why had he asked her to dance? Why had he gone to all that trouble, trekking through the snow, gathering greens? It wasn’t completely a wish to bring Christmas cheer to her mother.
Tomorrow will be back to business as usual, he told himself. The frivolity of Christmas will be only a memory. There will be tasks to complete, drills and inspections. They were a military expedition, after all. Eventually the snow would melt and they would march westward.
Today spring seemed like an eternity away and the fabled Pacific Ocean even farther. The snow was deep, and the fresh flakes falling made the going even harder. By the time they reached the south bank of the Missouri, Pierre was chilled to the bone. He was tired, and he was miserable. Christmas or not, he was in no mood for socializing tonight. If Mademoiselle Manette is waiting at the gate, I won’t be captivated by her eyes this time. I won’t linger. I’ll give her a nod, tell her the hunt was good and inform her when she can expect to claim a piece of meat. After that I’ll collect a mug of something warm, change my clothing and climb into bed.
And yet as soon as he stepped into the fort, his eyes betrayed him. While Captain Lewis came to inquire of their success, Pierre found himself scanning the grounds, searching for her. She was nowhere to be found. Toussaint Charbonneau, however, was.
“Mademoiselle Manette was relieved of her duties and returned to her village this afternoon,” Lewis said, as if reading his thoughts.
Pierre’s heart quickened, and all desire to distance himself from her vanished like ice under a warm spring sun. “Returned to her village?”
“Yes.”
“You mean, to her uncle?”
“Yes.” Evidently the captain considered the matter finished, for he turned his attention to Jessaume, Coulter and Howard, giving them directions concerning the distribution of the meat.
Pierre’s mind was reeling. “You sent her back to him? How could you after what he did?”
Captain Lewis’s eyes narrowed. “You forget yourself, Mr. Lafayette. Do not take such an accusatory and insubordinate tone with me.”
Insubordinate? I’m not one of your enlisted soldiers. As a French voyager, I am free to come and go as I please. And accusatory? Did he not send her back to Running Wolf? Surely accusation was warranted! Any officer stupid enough to send her back to such a man doesn’t deserve my allegiance or respect.
He turned on his heel, started for the gate. There was only one thing on his mind right now, one mission. He had to be sure Claire was alright.
Private Howard caught his arm. “Don’t do it, man. You’ll suffer the lash—or worse. Remember Newman?”
John Newman, an original member of the expedition, had been court-martialed for insubordination. He was the man who would be returning to Saint Louis on the keelboat in the spring, the man Pierre was replacing.
Lewis called out, “Stand fast, Mr. Lafayette!”
Only then did Pierre realize his foolishness. He froze. What was wrong with him? Had he been touched by fever? Had he really intended to defy his captain’s orders, set out alone to find Claire? Then what? Spirit her away from her uncle, her tribe? And go where? And at what cost?
One step more and I’ll be on the keelboat with Newman. Or was he already? Pierre turned back to face his angry captain. Lewis’s face was seething. Pierre didn’t know if an apology would help or hurt, but he took a chance and spoke first.
“Forgive me, Captain. You are right. I forget myself.”
Lewis’s hard expression remained. He stared at Pierre, clearly trying to decide what course of action best to undertake. Pierre held his breath.
“You walk on thin ice, Lafayette,” Lewis said finally, his teeth clenched. “I advise you never to place yourself in such a position again.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain turned on his heel, strode away, but Pierre felt little relief. He had maintained his position with the expedition, at least for now, but what about Claire? Sacagawea, who had watched the entire scene from the left of the gate, came to him. She made several signs, obviously trying to tell him something important, but just what, Pierre had no idea.
Her husband came to translate. “My wife is trying to tell you that your squaw left the fort of her own accord,” Charbonneau said.
“Of her own accord?”
Charbonneau nodded. So did Sacagawea. “I was there when Lewis summoned her. He offered her the opportunity to stay, promised to find her other work, but she said no.”
With that, the Frenchman and his wife walked back to their hut, the one Pierre had once worked in with Claire.
Pierre stood there on the parade ground. The snow continued to fall and the temperature had dropped considerably. He was shivering, but he paid his physical condition little mind. Charbonneau’s words echoed in his ears.
Of her own accord? Why would Claire go back to her uncle if the captain had granted her leave to remain here? Pierre had seen the tears in her eyes, felt the tremble in her hands the night Running Wolf had attempted to trade her. Why would she willingly go back to such a man? Why would she knowingly put herself in harm’s way?
And what, if anything, was he to do about it?
Chapter Eight
The three-mile distance to the village seemed more like thirty today. Snow seeped inside Claire’s moccasins, making her toes ache. The horse upon which her mother sat snorted and resisted her lead.
Ahead were her people, her own flesh and blood. Was it not her privilege to live among them? Her opportunity to introduce them to Christ? Yet the closer she came to the village, the more her feelings of inadequacy and fear grew.
Her uncle wanted nothing to do with white man’s religion, and he’d made it perfectly clear he’d part with her without her approval or consent if the price was right. She felt she should return despite the danger, but was she doing so because God had told her
to, or was she simply trying to escape another danger? The danger of falling for a man who would never marry her, who could be no permanent help to her in her circumstances?
He would never be content to remain here, nor would I wish him to be. He must move on. It is part of his nature. He must have his adventure. He must gain his land.
She would not begrudge him that. She was not jealous of him for it, even though she and her mother had lost her father’s land. The night she had spoken with Pierre on the subject, the night he had promised to pray for her, she had finally been able to put the past to rest. She’d been able to forgive Mr. Granger at last. But as for bravely facing her uncertain future, she wasn’t quite there yet.
“Fear not, for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name. Thou art mine. When you passeth through the waters, I will be with thee. And through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee...”
Claire recited the verse from book of Isaiah over and over again in her mind. It comes down to a matter of trust, she thought. Either God is with me or He isn’t. Either He loves me in spite of my weaknesses or He does not. He placed me in this village because this is where He truly wishes me to be.
She drew in a breath. The air was cold but refreshing. I choose to believe He does. I choose to believe.
So she walked on.
As she and her mother reached the village, the women were scurrying about with their daily work. Some paused long enough to offer Claire a disapproving glare. Others whispered. I have been talked about, she thought, and she wondered exactly in what way.
Was the rumor circulating that she was improperly consorting with white men, or did they think her audacious for not going along with her uncle’s plan to sell her to one?
“They stare at me,” Evening Sky said, having noticed them, as well. “They whisper because surely my brother has told them how boldly I spoke to him at the fort.” Evening Sky gave a slight laugh. “They act as though they are shocked, but deep down they probably wish they had my courage.”
Frontier Agreement Page 10
