Red Rider RIsing: Book 2 of the Red Rider Saga by D.A. Randall (best books to read for beginners .TXT) 📗

“He’s the one you told me about, right?” I asked.

Monsieur Touraine put his hands on his knees and bent toward me. “So you’re the little girl my overbearing friend here rescued. May I say, Mademoiselle, how pleased I am that he did.”

I felt myself blush. “Thank you,

Monsieur.”

“She’s not ssso little anymore,” Francois said with a silly smile. “She just turned eight.”

Monsieur Touraine’s eyebrows rose.

“Eight? I can tell.”

“Thank you,” I beamed.

“Like I said,” Francois continued. “If you ever need anything, if you ever need real help, Gerard’sss your man. He’ll take care of you, whateverrr you need. I promissse.”

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Monsieur Touraine slid a sideways glance at Francois, then smiled back at me. “Well, for now, how about this?” He reached into the front pocket of his apron and pulled out a peppermint stick.

“My favorite!” I gasped.

“Is it?” Monsieur Touraine asked, grinning at Francois. “Isn’t that a coincidence? I had no idea.”

“See what I mean? Anything you need, jussst come to Gerard. He’ll alwaysss take care of you.”

Monsieur Touraine put a hand on

Francois’s shoulder. “Such as taking care of seeing you home tonight, friend.”

Francois sputtered and waved him off.

“The Duke’sss servants’re seeing me home tonight. You hearrr that? The Duke’s!”

“A hero’s wages,” Monsieur Touraine

laughed. He bent to kiss my hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle.” He turned and moved back to the bar, where he poured a drink for one of the men sitting there.

“He’s nice,” I said.

“The nicccest.”

“I’m glad everyone knows you’re a hero now.”

“Awww.” Francois blinked, his face

turning serious. “You know what a – You know what a hero is, Helena? A hero doesn’t have to be big or strong or sssmart. He just has to stand up to do what’sss got to be done. People might not underssstand what you’re doin’ or why you’re 69

doin’ it. But it’s still got to be done, whether they understand it or not. A hero’s just sssomebody who stands up to do it when nobody else will.

That’sss all. You gotta stand up and do something, or nobody’s ever gonna get helped. All I did was stand up.”

I smiled. “Well, you’re my hero.”

He grinned at me. “Yeah? Well, you’re mine!” He lifted his bottle toward me. “Cheersss, Mademoiselle.”

I clinked my peppermint stick against it.

“Cheers, Monsieur.”

He took a deep swig from his ale while I sucked on my candy.

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8.

“That was the best party last night,” I beamed, no longer focusing on the needle and thread in my hands. Mama wanted me to practice sewing straight lines on an old patch, but I was too excited.

She sat beside me at our dining table, creating a new dress. “It was interesting,” she said, her voice subdued as she stared at the linen and lace spread over her lap.

I glanced at my needle to keep from pricking myself. “I met Monsieur Touraine. He 71

owns the tavern and he’s Francois’ best friend. He gave me three peppermints. And we ate peanuts and pretzels and drank ginger beer, and Francois showed me how to blow bubbles in it.”

Mama gave a small smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

I fixed my attention on the needle and thread. “Once I learn how to sew this patch, I can start sewing dresses. And then you can teach me how to sew clothes for you and Papa.”

“That’s right, dear. But keep working on that patch first. Careful you don’t get another snarl.”

“I’m gonna be a great seamstress, just like you and Grand’Mere Marie.”

Her gaze dropped into her lap. “… She made some beautiful things.”

I squinted at the needle and thread, still struggling to make a good backstitch. I stopped again. “When I’m older, maybe I can serve at a fancy party. Like the one last night. Except with more ladies. I could make dresses for everyone.”

“That would be nice,” Mama said. “Or someone might invite you.”

I shook my head. “No. But no