A Scotsman's Promise

Chapter 16

Christian chuckled as he looked at his best friend. Calen's expression was sober, not exactly in a pleasant mood after the laughs at his expense at the tavern for lunch. Will had claimed the honor of story teller, regaling them with a story riddled with theatrics. He had made himself out as the hero, the saviour of the day, which he undoubtedly had been, and added as much humour as he possibly could to Calen's accidental bullet wound. He had also done a superb job of embarrassing Micara with the exaggerations he had placed on her role in the incident, making her blush with his praise. Christian was impressed by Micara. From Will's description and the limited time he had spent with the petite French spitfire, she had already showcased more courage than half the women he knew. He could also tell that she had made a certain impression on Calen as well, even if he refused to admit it. Christian had a feeling this girl would be important to Calen somehow.

Calen scowled at him, as if reading his thoughts. "What are ye so giddy for?"

Christian grinned. He'd rather face a hungry grizzly than admit what he had been chuckling about to such an ill-humoured Scotsman. "It is possible I'm just in good spirits today, Calen."

Calen scoffed, "Och, aye, and it had nothing to do with William makin' a fool of me in front of the whole pub, did it?"

"Do you honestly think I'd admit it if it did?" Christian joked.

They were walking down to the river, Christian carrying the bulk of the supplies Calen had purchased to the canoes. They had discussed Calen's situation after leaving Will and Cara at the tavern, and had come up with a solution to the transportation problem. When the trio left in the morning, Christian would be going with them, at least as far as Montréal.

Christian had originally planned his stay in Trois-Riviéres to be a short one. It was simply to look in on his adoptive father to see if Old Jim needed anything before he returned to his and Calen's shared cabin to prepare for an extended summer trap route. He had secured a contract with the new North West Trading Company in Montréal, and he was itching to start. Escorting Calen's group to Montréal was the perfect reason to keep him from lingering in Trois-Riviéres any longer than was necessary.

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Cara strolled through the settlement with Will. Christian had shown her most of the town already, but there were still a few interesting spots she had yet to explore. Will was leading her to one of the trading posts, promising Micara that the most unique merchandise in the whole settlement was sold there. Cara recognized the building as the one Will and Calen had been leaving when she and Christian found them. It was a plain wooden building, not remarkable in size or appearance, with only one unadorned sign declaring it to be anything more than a simple cabin.

Will lifted the door's latch string and they stepped inside. The smells of pipe tobacco, cured animal hides, coffee and salt pork, and the unhygienic scent of the other possible customers present all assaulted Cara's nostrils as she entered.

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she was amazed by what she saw. In one corner animal pelts, beaver, muskrat, fox, deer, and even a couple bear, were piled to the roof, all bundled and ready to be shipped down the river and eventually across the ocean. Along the wall beside the mountain of furs were two planks set up as a bar with shelves behind it holding dozens of amber coloured bottles and several glasses. The rest of the building was filled with floor to ceiling shelves stocked with everything from clothing and household wares to farming tools, weapons, and food supplies. A couple buckskin clad trappers and one Indian women milled about the shop, examining the merchandise. 

Cara joined the shoppers, perusing the shelves. She was carrying a small sum of money, given to her by Papa for anything she might need on the trip. A splash of bright blue colour caught her attention. Near the back of the room was a section of shelf holding a wide array of Native merchandise. In the centre of the selection was a pair of moccasins similar to her own, covered in intricate blue bead-work. She picked up one and studied it, glancing at the price tag pinned to the supple deer-hide. She set the boot down quickly when she read the price. It seemed lovely footwear came at a hefty price, possibly guilt , for accepting such an expensive gift from Calen, even though he had given her no choice. The moccasins she wore now must have cost him dear.