The Pelican Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

grin curling his thin-lipped mouth.
    “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Julien stuffed his kerchief back into his coat. “When are you fellows going to have enough bricks made to turn this quagmire into a decent thoroughfare?”
    Alexandre shrugged. “Soon enough. Like most things, brick must dry before it is useful.” There was a sour silence which Julien refused to fill. Finally Alexandre chuckled. “Come down off yourhigh horse, Dufresne. You know we’re all calculating which of the brides we can draw into the net.”
    “Twenty-five women to two hundred men.” Julien passed Alexandre a sidelong look. “The odds aren’t favorable for a mud-slinger with a face like a trowel.”
    The mason laughed outright. “This particular trowel-faced mud-slinger has been saving against just such a contingency. I may be able to afford considerably more than can a penniless rooster-crowned by-blow!”
    Julien snarled under his breath and put a hand on his sword hilt, but Alexandre swung onto a side street, whistling. Fuming, Julien stared after him, but common sense cautioned him not to abandon his assignment. He could always deal with Alexandre at a later date.
    He turned his steps once more in the direction of the L’Anglois home, located nearly a mile from the water’s edge, whence he was to deliver his lovely freight. He observed the women from the rear, watching for reactions to their surroundings. The bare bones of a town were lines marked off with flagpoles bravely struggling to stay upright in the face of daily thunderstorms. Still, it would be hard for the uneducated eye to discern order in the muddy streets and thatched cottages built precariously upon stumps in an optimistic attempt to escape the incessant flooding.
    At the largest of these homes—and the only one finished—the young soldiers leading the procession halted and turned. The taller of the two presented Dufresne with a smart salute.
    The cottage door burst open, spitting out a stout little woman who bowled down the steps and pushed between the two soldiers as if they were a couple of wooden pins. “Oh dear, you are here!” She rolled to a breathless stop before the Gaillain sisters and grabbed a hand of each. “I am Madame L’Anglois, you precious ones! It has been my delight to arrange lodging for you until you are all, shall we say, situated.”
    The elder of the sisters gave Madame her friendly smile. “We are all grateful to have arrived safe and sound.”
    Madame L’Anglois made the rounds of the younger women, kissing cheeks, patting hands, and clucking like a biddy. “Come in, come in, and we shall manage a cup of tea, though it’s that nasty Indian brew that isn’t fit for man nor beast. But here, it’s all we have, so I shan’t apologize, though I’m sorry as can be.”
    Duty discharged, Julien called his men to order and bid the women adieu. He caught the eye of Mademoiselle Aimée and smiled, pleased when she blushed and looked away. Clearly he had established himself as a man of importance and authority.
    “To the munitions house, boys,” he said curtly. “Clean weapons and rearm, then report to mess.” Laying a hand on his sword hilt, he executed a smart about-face and headed toward the fort without a backward look at the blonde beauty.
    A bit of inattention would do her good.

    M OBILE VILLAGE , TWELVE MILES NORTHEAST OF F ORT L OUIS
    The village was quiet this afternoon. Nika sat on the floor of her chickee with Chazeh’s sweaty little head in her lap. He had been running a high fever since the day before, and she did not want him out in the sun. The others were all three miles away at Little Cedar creek; the women would be washing their few belongings—clothing, cooking utensils, and pots—while the children swam and splashed one another, practicing shallow dives off the natural bridge formed by a couple of felled water oaks. Chazeh’s twin, Tonaw, had begged to go swimming with his cousin Undin, and Nika