Page 31 of The Autumn Wife
Benoit
Just as the Mass bells of the Montreal chapel came to a ringing stop, Cecile stepped out of the birchbark canoe onto the grassy common that led up to merchant’s stands. She would have preferred to stay in the convent schoolhouse today, rather than venture into this babbling crowd. This morning, however, a conversation with Sister Anne had unearthed a surprising—and stronger—argument to buttress Cecile’s plea to become a nun. She couldn’t wait to present that argument to Sister Martha, so Cecile had tagged along with Etienne, who paddled an extra canoe to Montreal to hold the supplies Sister Martha was gathering on market day.
Cecile was all too aware that this might be her last chance to plead with the nun before Talon’s investigation unearthed dangerous secrets.
“Ceci!”
Glancing up the slope, Cecile felt her heart leap with surprise. Her old friend Marie raced toward her. The swiftness of Marie’s pace made her fur-lined cloak fly open to show her protruding belly. Beyond her came Marie’s giant of a husband, Captain Girard, struggling to keep his dignity while also straining to catch up to his wife.
Cecile hurried toward her friend. “Marie—slow down!”
“Sister Martha didn’t tell me you were coming today.” Marie flung her arms wide. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“Goodness.” Cecile made anoofas Marie threw herself at her “Look at you, racing like that. Do you want to birth this child on the market square?”
“You sound like Lucas.” Marie pressed away, eyes crinkling as the captain came up behind her. “But I’ve got almost a month more to go.”
Cecile couldn’t get over how big Marie’s belly was, pressing hard against her own midriff. When she’d left the Girards’ homestead earlier in the year to come to the convent, Marie’s belly had been a gentle bump. “You should be sitting with your feet up in confinement.”
“Would you have me tied up in a locked room? You know I couldn’t bear that.” Marie looked her over from head to toe. “And why on earth are you wearing thatawfulhabit? Gray is not your best color—and you are no nun.”
“Not yet.” The matter of her joining a convent had always been a bone of contention between her and Marie, so she swiftly deflected. “You look wonderful in your autumn furs, Marie.” Indeed, her friend looked so happy and bright and full of life that Cecile’s heart beat sore. “How I’ve missed you!”
“Let’s never be parted so long anymore. Wait.” Marie’s gaze shifted “Etienne, is that reallyyou?”
Cecile glanced over her shoulder at her grinning son, who’d yanked the birchbark canoe higher on the bank.
“Madame Girard.” He stepped toward them, bobbing his head at Marie. His face lit up as he glimpsed who followed. “Captain!”
“You look strong, son.” The captain laughed. “From the stonework? Mother Superior told me you’d become an apprentice.”
Her son beamed at his idol, and Cecile couldn’t help but mentally compare the glow on his face to the dark, suspicious scowl he reserved exclusively for Theo.
“He’s practically got a beard.” Marie reached forward to pinch Etienne’s chin. “When did that happen?”
“Too fast.” Cecile nudged her son, now flushed and ducking his head. “Sister Martha is waiting for you at the dry-goods warehouse, Etienne. Go on ahead and fetch the supplies.”
“I’ll help with the loading.” The captain slapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I saw the mountain of boxes and barrels Sister Martha purchased. You’re going to need another set of hands.”
“The men are gone. Now we can really talk,” Marie whispered as they made their way up the slope. “Though I warn you, Ceci. I’m determined that the only way you and I will ever have enough time to catch up is if you agree to live with me over the winter.”
“Can we not do this today?” Cecile eyed her. “You, of all people, know my plans.”
“Joining the convent was always a terrible plan,” she retorted, “doomed to fail. Besides, Ceci, Ineedyou this winter.” Marie slid a palm over the roundness of her belly. “You don’t want me to be trapped in a cabin for months with a growling, sleepless father and two children in diapers to care for—”
“Stop. I’ve lived with you. I know that Lucas does half the work.”
“You’re just being stubborn.” Marie pouted, though with teasing in her eyes. “Think about Etienne. He would love to spend more time in the woods hunting with Lucas.”
“Yes,” she conceded, “he would.” In fact, after her difficult conversation with Sister Martha about Talon’s investigation, Cecilehadconsidered spending the winter with the Girards. Marie’s isolated landholding would offer protection from the law, at least through the isolation of winter. But it would never be apermanentsanctuary. And, though it shamed her to admit it, living with the Girards meant witnessing, day after day, the joy and love between Marie and Lucas.
The kind of love she’d glimpsed in a kiss by the riverbank but was never destined to be.
“Oh, Ceci, I do hope you decide to stay with us.” Marie bounced in her step in a way that belied the ripeness of her pregnancy. “I have so very much newsto tell you! Including some about our little outlaw, Genny.”
“Is Genny all right?” The only thing Cecile knew about their redheaded friend from the orphanage was that she now lived, safe from the law, in the deep wilderness with the fur trader she’d married. “She’s not sick, is she?”
“She’s fine—and happy. But she sent me a message through a Chippewa trader from their far west trading post. She and her husband André will be sneaking back into Montreal soon to stock up on trading goods…”
