Where the Trail Ends: American Tapestries (28 page)

“I will return,” Alex said.

He walked bristly across the piazza to the tiny schoolhouse by the back gate. He admired Miss Waldron’s tenacity as much as McLoughlin did, but every member of the fort was critical to their survival. He didn’t know what Miss Waldron intended, but they needed the women to work as much as the men.

Opening the door, he stepped inside the schoolhouse and then stopped abruptly, shocked at what he saw. The room was teeming shoulder-to-shoulder with children and women alike. About forty of them. Some of the women sat on the floor, a child in each lap, while others sat on the benches made for children. And they were all listening to the woman at the blackboard as she pointed to a list of words.

Miss Waldron confidently met his gaze, and all those in the room slowly turned and stared at him. He needed to talk to her, but only a fool would dare to go up against this crew.

He cleared his throat. “Might I speak with you...outside?”

Curiosity filled her eyes. “Certainly.”

She stepped down the stairs, looking up at him with eyes that changed from blue to green in the light. “What is it?”

He breathed deeply, willing himself to be strong. “Why are these women in the schoolhouse with their children?”

She crossed her arms. “Do you know that some of these ladies don’t know how to read?”

“What does that have to do with—”

“Some of them don’t even know how to speak English!”

“Miss Waldron—”

“For heaven’s sake,” she said, interrupting him again, “call me Samantha.”

“Miss Waldron,” he continued, “we have hired you to educate our children at Fort Vancouver, not their mothers. All the adults at the fort must work.”

She put her hands on her hips. “How do you expect these children to learn English if their mothers can’t speak it?”

“Well, I—”

She didn’t give him the opportunity to finish. “Not only do the children need their mothers to learn English, but they are completely unmanageable without them. None of them obey me one lick while their mothers are at home.”

He lowered his voice, afraid those inside might hear him. “Not all the children have mothers.”

She matched his whisper. “No, but they listen much better to their friends’ mothers than they do to me.”

The brilliance of her idea slowly dawned on him. “So...you can teach these children now?”

She nodded. “And their mothers.”

Why hadn’t he and the governor considered this before? Perhaps the women could attend school in the morning with their children and then work until dusk.

“I shall ask Doctor McLoughlin for permission.”

“No need,” she replied, climbing the stairs. “He already gave it.”

She closed the school door behind herself, but Alex didn’t move. What kind of woman was this who didn’t seem to falter in the face of danger on the Columbia or buckle before a man as powerful as the governor?

She didn’t even seem to be afraid of those children.

Apparently Samantha Waldron had passed their test.

He was still shaking his head when he crossed the piazza to immerse himself back into his work.

He had to stop thinking about this woman.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The night before Christmas, the fort was lit with candles, its doors decorated with hundreds of ribbons and wreaths. The aroma of evergreen rooted itself on the winter air, reminding Samantha of home—Papa playing his fiddle, Mama roasting a goose, she and Micah stringing popcorn to hang on their tree.

As she crossed the piazza alongside Alex and Micah, she wished God would give her parents a glimpse of how wonderfully He was caring for them in this waiting place.

Papa and Mama would have liked the tall officer who now escorted her and Micah to the Christmas Eve service at Doctor McLoughlin’s request. They would have liked his integrity, his strength—and the fact that he allowed Micah to trail him around on Sunday afternoons, visiting the gardens and barns as if he were in need of a herder.

Mama would have liked his refined British manners. Papa might initially have found him too proper, but when he learned how Alex rescued her and Micah from the icy river, Papa wouldn’t care one bit about Alex’s manners. The important thing was that Alex knew when to discard his reserve in the face of danger.

Micah stopped in front of Bachelor’s Hall. “Which room is yours?” he asked.

Alex knelt on one knee next to Micah, pointing up at the second floor. “The third window from the left.”

Micah counted the windows until he stopped at Alex’s.

Samantha sighed. She’d never given any thought to where Alex
lived, but now whenever she passed the hall, she knew she’d find herself looking up at that second floor, the third window over.

Candlelight flickered on some of the windows as their residents moved slowly toward the entrance to the hall.

Alex tapped Micah’s shoulder. “How do you like our fort?”

“It’s my favorite place in the whole world,” Micah said. “But I still want to play outside.”

Alex glanced over at her as he stood. “Perhaps one day we can all explore together.”

Micah shook his head. “Samantha won’t go back outside the walls.”

He turned back to Micah. “Doctor McLoughlin said your sister is doing a fine job as a teacher.”

Her face warmed at the compliment, but Micah shook his head. “She’s too hard.”

“I heard she has even been tutoring some of the women after dinner.”

She looked looked up at Alex. “They are anxious to learn.”

He smiled at her. “It was a good idea to teach them English.”

She was grateful for the darkness that hid her blush. “Thank you.”

Micah tugged on Alex’s hand. “Can we show my sister the Fur Shop before we go to the service?”

“I don’t think—” she started.

“C’mon, Samantha,” Micah urged.

She took a deep breath. She’d seen plenty of animal skins along their journey, but it didn’t mean she could stomach a roomful of them.

“Unless they pose a threat”—she looked back at Alex, trying to rid herself of the images of the bear and wolverine—“I have a soft heart for animals.”

He nodded slowly. “Then the Fur Shop would not be a good place for you to visit.”

“Please,” Micah begged.

Alex rumpled his hair. “We have to protect your sister’s heart.”

She thanked Alex again, but neither of them moved toward the mess hall. She was well aware that Fort Vancouver was an outpost that dealt primarily with capturing animals and trading their fur, but she had not come to Oregon Country to pilfer animals from the land. She wanted to grow things, raise herds of animals, as her father had wanted to do.

She ran her fingers over the ribbons threaded through a wreath on a post. “When did you decide that you wanted to be part of the fur-trading business?”

He eyed her with curiosity. “I never decided. It is my family’s business.”

“Are your parents back in London?”

He shook his head. “They died when I was young.”

Compassion filled her heart, the aching for her own parents still fresh. “I am sorry.”

“My uncle raised me as his son.”

They continued walking, and Samantha watched as Alex looked down at Micah and then at her. He could understand her brother’s loss and it inspired her, knowing what an accomplished man he had become after his parents died.

“Your parents would have been proud of you,” she said.

A smile broke on his face. “I hope they would.”

Micah rushed through the door of the mess hall, but she and Alex stopped outside. “How old were you when they died?”

“My father died not long after I was born, and my mother remarried. She died when I was ten.” He looked at the candlelight in the window. “I did not know my father’s family until after she died.”

She saw the grief in his eyes and wondered how long it had been since he spoke about his parents. “Your uncle came for you when she died?”

He nodded slowly. “My aunt and uncle arrived within hours after she passed. They were distraught at the squalid conditions in which
I had been living, but I had never found it dirty or unkempt. It had been home to me.”

“You must care for your aunt and uncle a lot.”

“My uncle is a great man.”

The bell rang to announce the beginning of the service, and several people hurried past them to go into the room. Neither she nor Alex moved.

“If he were here, I’m sure your uncle would be quite proud of you as well.”

He looked into her eyes, and their intensity made her stomach tumble. “I fear I have failed him.”

“How could you possibly have failed him?”

“By caring for an American.”

She took a deep breath, her heart beginning to wonder how much he cared.

He cleared his throat. “Caring for all of the Americans who have come here—their food and supplies.”

“Of course.” He may try to hide it—and fight it—but it was clear to Samantha that Alex would never let a person, American or otherwise, suffer if he could prevent it. “God created you to care for others,” she said softly. “Why shouldn’t you care for Americans?”

He shook his head. “My family relies on me to make the appropriate decisions on behalf of the company.”

“Don’t they know there is One much higher than any company?”

A flutist began to play music on the other side of the door. “They already have a god.”

“But not you, Alex. You know the truth.”

His eyebrows climbed, and she wasn’t certain if it was because of her words or because she had used his first name. He didn’t correct her on either account.

“My family’s livelihood is being threatened.”

“Because the Americans are coming?”

“Partially.”

“Then perhaps you should reconsider your livelihood.”

He shook his head. “It is too late—”

“Micah and I are not a threat, are we?”

“Micah is not.”

“But I—” She swallowed her words, her pulse racing at his implication. “We have traded fur for hundreds of years. We need this country to trap animals.”

She dug her heel into the dirt pathway. “This country is also for growing and harvesting. Perhaps you and your company could raise animals instead of taking them from the land.”

“The company has plenty of sheep and mules in the barns.” He paused. “When the weather is better, I shall take you and Micah to see the gardens and barns.”

“We would like that.”

He took her elbow, and goose bumps spread over her skin. “We should join the others,” he said, his voice low.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I have not done anything—”

She stopped him one last time. “Thank you for caring—for all of us.”

Alex opened the door to the bachelor’s mess hall, and the aromas of cinnamon and orange peel wafted out into the night air. Miss Waldron stepped into the crowded room and he walked in behind her, the words from their conversation playing in his head, confusing him.

Had he just told Samantha Waldron he cared for her? He tried to recall his exact words as he guided her through the benches.

He didn’t care for her, at least not in the way he might have implied. She intrigued him, inspired him—that was all. Perhaps he shouldn’t have invited her and Micah to tour the garden and barns, but McLoughlin had asked him to watch over both of them. He was glad to attend to the boy who’d lost his father as well as the woman who loved her brother.

Alex’s mother had loved him when he was a child, but his aunt hadn’t wanted an orphan in their home. Lady Clarke had never liked Alex much—she had always desired children of her own to carry her husband’s name and title. But she’d never had children, so she allowed Lord Clarke to pretend that he had a son.

Thank God she had done it. Without his uncle’s influence and direction, he might never have left the East End. Or he might have become a sailor and spent the remainder of his life as a miserable wretch.

Perhaps in some small way he could help Micah as well.

Miss Waldron pointed to her brother sitting in the midst of the clerks and their wives on the fourth row. There were two seats reserved to the boy’s right, for his sister and Alex.

They joined Micah as Doctor McLoughlin read the Scripture for Christmas Eve. Then Alex held the candle for Micah and Miss Waldron as they took the bread and cup together. As they prayed, he glanced at the bowed heads of the beautiful woman on his right and the boy on his left.

Then Alex closed his eyes as well.

It was almost as if they were a family.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Instead of snow, January and February brought torrential rain to Fort Vancouver, so much so that Alex hadn’t been able to take Samantha and Micah to visit the barn animals or the gardens. Alex had said that March usually brought several days of sunshine, but as the rain continued to drown the fort, she wondered if it would ever end.

Samantha buttoned her new dress, made from the emerald-green muslin she’d purchased at the Sale Shop. Then she glanced at herself in the looking glass above the washbasin as she prepared to leave for the church service that met down the hallway in the dining room.

She’d tried to make the dress before Christmas, but she’d been so busy with the school that she hadn’t had time. Two of her students, wives of the officers, finished it for her as a gift, and they had even embroidered white flowers on the sleeves and hem.