Not My Father's House by Loretta Miles Tollefson

Author:Loretta Miles Tollefson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical fiction, western, frontier fiction, old new mexico, american southwest, american west, historical suspense, historical womens fiction, postpartum fiction
Publisher: Palo Flechado Press
Published: 2019-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

The two dozen beaver plews Gerald collected on his trapping trip aren’t likely to bring him much. At least, that’s what Ceran St. Vrain says when he shows up in early December. He’s fought his way through yet another snowstorm up Taos Canyon and over Palo Flechado Pass, then swung north to the cabin on his way to the Santa Fe Trail and St. Louis.

“Things are quiet in Don Fernando at the moment, so I thought I’d slip through before winter really sets in. I want to spend some time with my St. Louis relatives and then be in place to bring trade goods back early next year, as soon as it’s warm enough,” he explains from the carved bench by the fire. His tall broad forehead gleams in the light.

Suzanna hands him a hot cup of tea and he smiles up at her. “This certainly brings back memories.” He frowns slightly, sets the teacup beside him on the bench, and begins patting his pockets. “I came your way partly because I saw your father right before I left and he asked me to bring you this.” He pulls out a carefully folded and sealed packet of paper.

“Oh! Thank you!” Suzanna gives him a brilliant smile and carries the lamp to the corner so she can read her letter while the men talk by the fire.

Gerald swings Alma onto his knee. “Are you taking furs with you to St. Louis?” he asks St. Vrain. “I picked up a few plews recently, if you’d like to make me an offer.”

The big merchant shakes his head regretfully. “It wouldn’t do either of us much good. The news from St. Louis is that beaver prices have dropped off a cliff. The Hudson’s Bay Company has been busy in the Northeast and they’re unloading everything they take in New York. The merchants there have more furs than they have warehouse space.”

Alma twists from her father’s knee and he stands her on the floor. He holds her hands, steadying her, while she thumps her feet up and down, pretending to walk. Gerald glances up at St. Vrain. “So Hudson’s Bay is flooding the market?”

“Trying to push us all out of business,” St. Vrain says grimly. He shrugs. “I’m wagering that it’ll pass. The best thing for you would be to hold those plews until things get back to normal and Rocky Mountain beaver is king again.” He leans back on the bench. “For my part, I’m seriously considering the potential for moving out of the fur trade altogether and putting my money into calico and other female geegaws instead.” He twists to grin at Suzanna. “And maybe glass windows.”

She looks up from her letter and smiles at him. “Set some aside for me when you bring them back.”

Gerald’s head is bent over Alma, coaxing her to move her feet forward instead of just up and down, but Suzanna sees his face tighten. “Even just one or two panes would be lovely,” she adds wistfully.

Gerald looks up at St.

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