Henry nodded. “I think the weather’s probably one of your biggest enemies, as you’re seeing now. The wild animals tend to skirt clear of the settled areas unless they’re injured or have some other reason to be out of their minds. As far as men go, well, don’t cheat at cards, and you should get along all right.” He laughed at his own joke and Calvin joined him, not missing the fact that his question hadn’t been answered at all.
Chapter Seven
The storm didn’t blow over until Monday morning. Faith thought she’d lose her mind before then. Thankfully, they’d had enough food for Henry as well as themselves, and they’d managed to stay warm. But being forced to remain inside was difficult, and she could tell it was taking its toll on Henry and Calvin, too, both being used to the outdoors.
“I sure do appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” Henry said as he put on his coat and hat. She’d filled him up with one more hot breakfast before agreeing to send him on his way. He didn’t look like a man who ate home-cooked meals very often.
“It was the least we could do,” she replied. “I have to ask, though, if you’re ever going to go wandering in a snowstorm again. That doesn’t seem like the wisest thing to do.”
“Well now, I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said with a chuckle. “I was out visiting friends down thataway and didn’t realize the storm was coming up so fast.”
“Do you think your friends are all right? Where do they live?” Faith asked
“Oh, I’m sure they’re fine. They’ve got themselves a pretty solid cabin. I appreciate your concern, though,” Henry said. “I’d best be on my way. Thanks again for everything.” With a tip of his head, he was gone, and Faith closed the door behind him.
“Well, Constable Montrose, sounds like you’ve got yourself a clue to follow up on,” Faith said as she joined Calvin at the table.
“Hmm?”
She nodded off toward the east. “Henry has some friends who live out that way in a cabin. He knew there was a storm coming—he didn’t know how fast it was coming, but he still braved it. Whatever his reasons for going there, they were pretty compelling. Enough to warrant some investigation, I’d say.”
Calvin looked at her, a smile growing across his face. “You’ve got some investigative skills of your own, Mrs. Montrose. I’m duly impressed.”
She shrugged. “Just doing my part for the RNWMP.” Secretly, though, she was pleased with herself. Not a bad piece of detective work if she did say so herself.
“And I’d better do the same. We need to make sure that everyone is safe after this onslaught. You’ll be checking in with the other Mountie wives, I’m guessing?”
“The minute I get the dishes done. I can’t wait to be outside again.”
“Why don’t you leave the dishes? There’s no rush—you can always get them later.”
“Really? But that seems so . . . slothful and lazy.”
He chuckled. “And who’s to know? I won’t tell a soul. Go see your friends.”
That sounded wonderful. “I think I will. And I’ll go to the mercantile, too.”
As soon as Calvin finished eating, he put on his coat and hat, pulled on his newly finished gloves, and bent to kiss her cheek. But as his lips left her skin, he paused. “That doesn’t seem like quite enough,” he said, meeting her gaze. Then he drew close again, sliding his gloved hand behind her head and pulling her near.
She didn’t know what she’d expected for their first kiss. Something quick, perhaps, because their relationship was still so new. Something friendly, something light . . . this was nothing like any of that. As soon as he brought her in partway, it was like a magnet brought them the rest of the way, a pull neither one could have resisted. That sense of belonging to him, that sense of rightness, leaped up in her chest and confirmed itself a million different ways. This was what it meant to fall in love.
When he released her, he stepped back and smiled. “I’ll be back as soon as I can—no idea how long it will be.”
“That’s all right. I’ll get new supplies put in and reintroduce myself to the outside world while you’re gone.”
He bent and gave her another kiss, then was out through the door. She pressed her hand to her lips, realizing how very much like a young bride she was acting. How much of a young bride she was. She laughed at herself as she pulled on her cloak and gloves. She was only being herself, and it felt good.
She made her visit to each cabin relatively short, making sure everyone was all right and asking if they needed anything from the mercantile. Each one said they had quite a list and would head over themselves, so she only had her own supplies to worry about. As she walked into the store, the first thing on her mind was the possibility of a mail delivery.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Montrose,” the store owner told her. “With the storm, we’re delayed by a few days.”
“That’s all right. I assumed as much.” She gave him a smile to reassure him, but she couldn’t push back the disappointment she felt in the middle of her gut.
As she turned to examine the shelves for the things she needed, she noticed a little pair of black eyes peering out at her from around a large barrel of crackers. The child was probably three years old and most definitely didn’t want to be seen, but his curiosity was getting the better of him as he stared up at her.
“Hello,” she said softly, bending down to his eye level. “How are you?”
He didn’t reply, but stuck his finger in his mouth. His clothing and his darker coloring gave him away as one of the natives in the area, and she was excited to meet him.
“My name is Faith,” she told him. He reached out and touched the fabric on her arm. “Oh, you like my cloak? Red is my favorite color.”
“He likes it too,” a woman’s voice said from behind, and Faith turned to greet the speaker. She was a young native woman, probably not much older than Faith, but clearly the boy’s mother. “You’re one of the new wives?”
“Yes. I’m Faith Montrose.” How odd that sounded, but it sent a thrill through her.
“I’m Jane, and this is my son, Sammy. We live in the village.”
Faith turned back to the boy. “Hello, Sammy.”
Again, there was no reply, but his eyes followed her every movement.
“We’d better go,” Jane said, seeming a little uncomfortable. “I’m glad you’ve come to Reindeer Rock, Mrs. Montrose.”
“Wait,” Faith said before Jane turned away. “May I come visit you in the village?”
Jane seemed confused. “You want to visit?”
“Yes. I’d like to make friends with you and meet your family. If that would be all right.”
“I . . . I think so. Yes. Come, Sammy.” She held out her hand and Sammy took it, casting another look at Faith over his shoulder as he walked off.
Once Faith had made her selections, she carried them to the counter. “I’m so pleased that I was able to meet Jane and Sammy just now,” she said conversationally.
“Oh? Why is that?” the storekeeper asked.
“I’m fascinated to know about people whose lives are different from mine. How they celebrate, how they mourn, what they eat, how they live.”
He raised an eyebrow. “There aren’t a lot of people around here who feel that way, Mrs. Montrose. We get along all right living side by side, but we don’t do a whole lot of interacting. Not unless we have to.”
“Why not? I think you could learn a great deal about each other.”
“I don’t want to learn how to be an Indian. I’m sorry if that makes me sound narrow-minded, but that’s just how I feel about it.” He wrote her total in the ledger. “Do you need any help getting this home?”
“No, I think I’ll be all right. Thank you.”
She hefted her box into her arms and began her walk back to the cabin. It was a little difficult to navigate around the snowdrifts at times, but she made it safely. What bothered her more than the snow was the conversation she’d just had. Of course, not everyone had to be interested in the same
things she was, but it seemed to her that part of the joy of living was learning, and part of learning was understanding those around her. Shutting yourself off from that purposely . . . well, it seemed like choosing to miss out on a great deal.
As she walked up to the cabin, a movement caught the corner of her eye, and she looked over to see Finnegan standing there, flicking his tail. “Hi there,” she said to him. “You were a busy boy during the storm.”
He blinked.
“Thank you for bringing Henry our way,” she went on. “I’m not sure how that’s going to play out, but you know what, he sort of grew on me. I actually think I like him, moonshiner or not. And I’d hate to think of anyone getting lost out here in a storm like that even if they are breaking the law.”
He tilted his head to the side, blinked again, and trotted off.
As she put the food away, Faith thought about Finnegan, which of course got her thinking about sled dogs, and by the time she had a batch of bread rising on the counter, she had a plan worked out in her head. She wasn’t sure it was the very best idea in the world, but she had to find something to do or she’d go crazy with inactivity, and she didn’t think Minnie wanted her over there every single minute to play with Olivia.
She put on her cape again and picked her way across the snowy ground toward the shed where the sled dogs were housed when they weren’t in use. She remembered it well from when they had arrived, and she also remembered Mr. Larsen, who trained the dogs. It took her several minutes to reach his place because it was on the outskirts of town—not that Reindeer Rock was large by any means, but the snow definitely slowed her progress and doubled the length of her journey.
When she reached the property, she was greeted by the sounds of many yipping dogs, and soon she could see them jumping up and down inside their large enclosure. “Hello there,” she said to them, laughing. “Hello.” They were scrambling all over each other, trying to get to her.
“Hello,” a voice called out, startling her. Of course it wasn’t one of the dogs, but it took her a second to get her bearings and realize it. Mr. Larsen came out of the nearby shed, pulling on his gloves, and she smiled at him.
“I’m sorry to drop by without warning, Mr. Larsen, but I’ve had an idea, and I’m afraid that when I get an idea, I’m rather prone to acting on it immediately.”
He smiled in return. “Just what’s this idea of yours? It’s Mrs. Montrose, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. You’ve got an excellent memory.” She motioned toward the dogs. “Is it difficult to learn how to drive a sled? For a woman, that is?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t think it’s any harder for a woman than a man to learn how. I’d say the difficult thing might be the physical strength involved, not the gender.”
“I’m a bit small, but I’m strong,” Faith told him. “Do you think I could learn?”
“I don’t see why not, if it’s something you’re wanting. I’m curious why, though.”
She had no idea where he stood on the question of the natives, and she wasn’t in the mood to get into a conversation that might ruffle her feathers after she’d spent time smoothing them down from before. “I’d like to be able to get around on my own,” she said, deciding to remain somewhat vague. He didn’t need to know that what she really intended to do was drive out to visit the Ojibwe. She wouldn’t do it without telling Calvin, of course—she’d never want to alarm him—but it would be a nice thing if she was able to do it without relying on someone taking her.
Mr. Larsen nodded. “You’re always welcome to rent a sled and team, and I’m more than happy to teach you. It might also be . . . advantageous . . . for your husband to have a few lessons as well.”
She chuckled at his attempts to speak circumspectly. “It’s all right, Mr. Larsen. I think we can all three agree that Calvin is more enthusiastic than skilled when it comes to sledding.”
He nodded. “Let’s set up a time for your first lesson—how about one o’clock tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’d appreciate that, Mr. Larsen. I’ll see you then.”
She turned to leave, but he spoke again. “Would you like a ride back to your cabin, Mrs. Montrose? I was just getting ready to take these boys out for a run—they’ve been cooped up because of the storm, and they’re eager to get out.”
“I’d love that,” she replied, and watched as he hitched them all up. She’d paid a little attention to the process while they were out on the trail before, but this time, she took careful mental notes, thinking that someday, she’d like to do this part herself too.
The dogs were quivering with excitement when she climbed into the sled and got settled. She could feel their energy radiating around them—she was sure that only their careful training kept them from leaping and running off once they were out of their enclosure.
“Are you ready?” Mr. Larsen asked, and she called back that she was. With only the slightest bit of encouragement, the dogs were off, barking joyfully as the sled skimmed across the top of the snow. Once again, she pulled her scarf up to cover her nose and mouth so she wouldn’t be breathing the bitterly cold air, but she loved the speed and the rhythm of the ride.
When they reached her cabin, she climbed out and thanked Mr. Larsen for his kindness. Then she stood and watched the dogs run off, their tails wagging and their tongues lolling, looking as happy as any dogs she’d ever seen.
She looked across the courtyard and caught a glimpse of Olivia peering out of Robert and Minnie’s front window, no doubt watching the dogs as well. What was it about children and animals that could make a person feel so happy?
***
Malcolm spread a map of the area out on his desk, and the four Mounties gathered around it. “Commander Scott said he and his men had already investigated much of the land out in this area,” he said, pointing to the forests east of Reindeer Rock. “It’s too bad that your visitor didn’t get more specific with his instructions, Calvin.”
“One thing we have to keep in mind is that moonshine stills can be moved from place to place,” Robert pointed out. “That’s what makes them so difficult to locate. They could have waited for Commander Scott to clear one area and then set up camp in that same spot the very next day. We can’t rule anything out.”
Calvin nodded. “The fact that Henry showed up on foot and never said anything about losing a horse tells me that he couldn’t have been traveling too far afield,” he said. “Do we know where his house is?”
Malcolm indicated another spot on the map, this one out to the west of town. “I asked Mr. Pettigrew on our way back in,” he said. “He pointed me here.”
“I wondered why you were lagging behind,” Colton said with a grin. “I thought maybe our fearless leader was getting soft in his old age.”
“Never,” Malcolm replied. “And after my afternoon nap, I’ll challenge you to an arm-wrestling match to prove it.”
Calvin went back to the map. “I think we should ride out and check these places that have already been marked off. If Robert’s right and they’re moving their operation behind our backs, we’d have a better chance of catching them.”
Malcolm nodded. “Agreed. Now that we’ve checked on the community and made sure everyone’s all right after the storm, we can set up some regular patrols, and part of that will be choosing outlying areas to investigate. I’d like to keep those random, without a predictable pattern.”
They spent the remainder of their meeting discussing their goals and objectives and deciding which areas they’d patrol the next day. They would ride out in sets of two, with Colton and Malcolm taking a general route and then Robert and Calvin riding out to the east later in the day. They arranged their shifts to overlap so someone would be at the station on a rotating basis, and when they were done, Malcolm sat back with a satisfied nod.
“It feels good to have our schedule established. Being snowed in wasn’t the best way to start our assignment here, but now we can get on track.”
Calvin was
given the rest of the afternoon off, and he whistled as he walked across the snowy ground toward his cabin. He glanced toward the outhouse the four Mountie cabins shared and thought he saw one of the wives stepping behind it with a plate of food and then reappearing without it, but decided he must be mistaken. Why would she want to leave food at the outhouse?
“Hello,” he called out as he stepped inside. “How was your day?”
Faith turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a towel. “It was so good to get outside for a while,” she told him. “And I’ve had a wonderful idea, but I need your . . . well, I don’t like to say ‘permission’ because that sounds utterly barbaric, but I think I do need it . . . or at least, your approval . . . because you’re law enforcement as well as my husband, and . . .”
He chuckled and held up a hand. “You’re making me a little nervous. What’s going on? You aren’t thinking of going into moonshining yourself, are you?”
“No, although it does sound like a rather exciting career.” She grinned and went on. “I’d like to learn to drive a dogsled. That way, I could drive out and visit the Ojibwe or just get out for some fresh air and exercise whenever I wanted. I’ve already spoken with Mr. Larsen and he’s agreeable to it.”
Calvin was surprised to hear what she’d been concocting, but not in a negative way. “I think that would be a very good idea. In fact, while we were out today, we talked a little bit about how we could help our wives settle in and feel more at home here, and we talked about sleds and horses and things like that. I don’t have any objection.”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” She clapped her hands together, but she was still holding her towel, so it made a muffled sound. “And what about going out to see the natives? Is that safe? You see, I met a young Ojibwe woman and her little boy this morning at the mercantile, and I would love to visit them and see how they live.”
“From what I understand and what I’ve seen, the Ojibwe are a kind, peaceful people with a rich spiritual heritage,” Calvin told her as he sat down at the kitchen table. “My only concerns would be with the moonshiners in the area.”
Bride for Calvin Page 6
