Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (48 page)

Eager to follow her, Hunter started to rise, but slipped; jarred by the pain that coursed through his leg, he needed a moment to catch his breath. He was trying so hard to be gentle and kind, but Alanna wasn't giving him even the slightest bit of encouragement, and he didn't know how to reach her. She was as skittish as a fawn, and he had no idea how to tame such a restless spirit. He pulled a clump of grass up by the roots and hurled it after her, but his anger wasn't nearly as easy to toss away.

As promised, Alanna returned shortly with everything they had left behind. She handed Hunter his shirt, leggings, and moccasins, but he just laid them aside. He had picked a magnificent heap of berries, and she scooped a handful off the top. "These are very good, aren't they?"

"Delicious," Hunter agreed. He looked up at her, his expression sullen. "I'm sorry I can't hunt yet."

Alanna had brought the two muskets she had taken from the dead Abenaki, along with the one belonging to Hunter. His bow and quiver lay with them. "We have weapons aplenty," she remarked absently, "but I'd rather not fire a musket again, and I've no idea how to use a bow."

"I'll teach you when I feel better."

Worried, Alanna knelt by his side. "Are you feeling ill again?"

Surprised that she had to ask, Hunter shrugged slightly. "I'm no worse than before, but I'm far from well."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." Hunter popped a berry into his mouth and munched it slowly. "Catch some fish, if you want them. I'm not hungry."

No more willing to chat than he, Alanna moved away and busied herself collecting fist-sized stones to ring a fire. Next she gathered firewood, but left it unlit while she went down to the lake to fish. She could feel Hunter watching her, and each time she glanced his way, she found his expression dark and brooding. Glancing up at the sky, she wondered where the day had gone. She wasn't really hungry either, but fishing gave her something to do. The trout weren't nearly as easy to catch in the afternoon as they were at dawn, but she persevered until she had six.

"I thought you might change your mind about eating," she told him.

Hunter shook his head. She had not danced over the rocks in the way that had amused him so the last time he had watched her fish. She had simply stood at the water's edge, looking as lost as he felt. She roasted her catch, and from what he could see, again overcooked it, and he was ashamed he hadn't offered to help. He knew he was being very poor company, but by the time she had finished eating supper, he was positive he knew what the problem was. He could not believe he had been so blind.

"Because I'm Indian, I know I'm the last man you could ever love, but I wish things had been different, better, so that we could stay together."

He was rolling the shaft of an arrow slowly between his fingers rather than look at her, but the sadness in his voice broke her heart. "Do you really want me to stay with you?" she whispered. When he glanced up at her, she couldn't tell if he were hurt, or insulted. "What I mean is, I'm nothing like Melissa."

Hunter swore a particularly vile oath, but wisely chose to do so in his mother tongue. "I know," he then agreed in English. "It's what I've always liked best about you."

Alanna had to swallow hard to force away the painful ache in her throat. "I didn't think you wanted me."

Hunter laid the arrow aside. "Come here."

They were seated just a few feet apart, but when Hunter extended his hand, Alanna wondered if they could ever truly bridge the wide gulf that separated them. She had so many questions. Questions she knew he and Melissa should have answered, before they had begun their brief affair. She hung back, but when Hunter began to smile, her only thought was how remarkably handsome he was, and how desperately she wanted him to make love to her. In the next instant she was in his arms, the answers she had sought, forgotten.

Afraid of scaring her off, Hunter wrapped her in a relaxed embrace. He rested his chin atop her head and patted her back lightly. "I have nothing to give you," he admitted sadly.

Alanna sat back slightly, so she could look up at him. "I have no need of things."

Hunter caressed her cheek, then slipped his fingers through her shiny curls. "Yes, you do. White women need a great many things."

"I don't need anything that you can't provide."

A slow smile played across Hunter's lips. "And what is that?"

"A home, food, whatever we'll need to survive."

Hunter wanted to give her so much more. "Is that all you want?"

His seductive whisper sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She reached up to trace the edge of his jaw, and he turned his head to move with her and prolong the touch. That he would lean into her caress like an affectionate cat amused her. There was an animal wildness about him that his soft-spoken manner had never fully disguised, but now she found it enormously intriguing rather than frightening.

"All I want is you," she replied in a tone as inviting as his.

"Can you wait until I'm well?"

Alanna broke into a mischievous grin and shook her head. "No, I don't think I can wait another minute." She leaned down to flick his nipple with the tip of her tongue, but when he flinched, she sat back.

"Does that bother you?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Hunter admitted, but he sounded appreciative rather than annoyed. He wound his fingers in her hair to pull her lips to his for a fervent kiss he didn't end, until she was lying beneath him. Cradled in the soft, spring grass, her eyes glowed with the same iridescent sheen as the new spring leaves overhead, while her tawny curls caught the last of the sun's vermilion rays.

Hunter rested on his elbows and struggled to find the right words to make her understand without frightening her. "I wanted to make love to you this morning, but the pain got too bad, and I couldn't. Please be patient with me. If we have forever, a few days shouldn't make any difference."

That she had mistaken his lack of passion for disinterest, when pain had been the cause, made Alanna blush with shame. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so stupid." She tried to sit up, but he blocked her way.

"The fault is mine. You couldn't have known."

"But I should have. I knew how badly you'd been hurt."

She was again blaming herself for something that wasn't her fault, and Hunter couldn't bear to see her suffer so needlessly. "I want to make you laugh until your sides ache, but neither of us is in the mood for jokes." He rolled over on his back and pulled her against him, so her head would rest comfortably in the hollow of his shoulder. Loss of blood had left him feeling tired and weak, just when he needed all his strength to impress her.

"I can't keep you with me, if I don't get well," he announced suddenly. "To take an Indian for a husband will be difficult enough. I won't tie you to an invalid."

Alanna sat up slowly. "What if
I'd
been the one who had been stabbed? Would you send me away, because I was no longer perfect?"

"It's not the same," Hunter argued.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's the man who provides for his woman, not the other way around."

He was confusing her again and Alanna drew back. "In one breath you talk about us being together forever, and in the next of sending me away. Can't you make up your mind? I'm sure you'll recover completely, but even if you don't, I'd not leave you. It just so happens that I have some money of my own, and if it's managed properly, it will be enough to take care of all three of us."

It was now Hunter who was badly confused. He sat up so they could discuss the matter more easily. "I would rather starve to death than live off your money," he insisted. "There are only two of us," he added. "Why did you say three?"

Alanna couldn't believe he had to ask that. "Have you forgotten why Elliott and I came to see you? You have a son, Hunter, and he belongs with us."

Sickened by her mention of the boy, Hunter turned away. "His mother despised me, and her poison is in his blood. I could no more love him than he could love me. Do not speak of him again. He will never be a part of us."

The love that had filled his gaze only moments before, had been replaced by a look of such virulent hatred Alanna couldn't bear to remain with him. She rose and walked out of the clearing without offering any apology for leaving, or promise of when she might return. Afraid of becoming lost in the woods, she wandered down by the lake until it grew too dark for her to see the way. She had forgotten to take her shawl, but hoping the night would be mild, she lay down and slept in the grass.

Hunter kept waiting for Alanna to reappear, but when he heard the howl of a wolf in the distance, he feared it might be a warning that she would never return. He thought she still had Elliott's knife at her belt and, having seen her kill two men, he knew she wouldn't hesitate to defend herself should any danger arise, but he did not want her to have to face any such challenge ever again. Frantic with both worry and despair, it took him a long time to fall asleep. When he awoke the next morning and found himself still alone, he became even more depressed.

He got up and tried putting some weight on his injured leg, but the resulting pain wrenched a groan from his throat, and he had to ease back on his cane. He knew he had to eat to grow strong, but he still had no appetite. Forcing himself to fish, he caught enough trout for two, but there was still no sign of Alanna by the time they were finished cooking. Although quiet and shy, she had been such good company, he missed her very badly and hoped she would come back before noon.

Alanna had berries for breakfast, and then, wanting to be certain Hunter was all right, she circled around their camp and approached it from the south. When she saw him leaning on his cane to fish, she crept away before he felt her presence, and returned to the spot where she had spent the night. Feeling drained of all emotion, she sat watching the lake for most of the day. She retreated into herself as she had as a child, but she no longer had her cousins' happy laughter to draw her from the sadness of her daydreams. Disconsolate, she did not even notice the sun had set, until long after it had grown dark.

Hunter had known women who pouted when they failed to get their way, but after briefly considering that possibility, he rejected it. Alanna wasn't the type to sulk. She was far too considerate a person to manipulate others. Clearly she saw herself as Christian's champion, and perhaps he had been unforgivably harsh, but didn't his feelings merit equal consideration?

Then a truly awful thought occurred to him. What if Christian was the one she loved? What if her only interest was in providing a father for the boy? With Elliott gone, he had been a convenient and logical choice, but once he had refused to raise Christian, Alanna had immediately lost interest in him. Perhaps she had not said so in words, but didn't her absence make her position clear? If it was Christian she loved, and not him, then she had made an even bigger fool of him than Melissa had.

Infuriated that he had again been duped by a white woman with beguiling ways, Hunter channeled all his energies into getting well. His leg was still sore, but he could take a few steps at least, and the next day several more. He removed the bandage and found that Alanna had wrapped his wound so cleverly, it would leave only a thin scar rather than the ugly puckered gash he had expected.

Encouraged that his leg was healing properly, he began walking a few steps each hour, making a great effort to stand tall, rather than bent over favoring his left leg. It was difficult, and painful, but by the time Alanna had been gone five days, he felt fit enough to go after her. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say, and would be brief rather than abusive. He would sign whatever statement she wanted about Christian. He would gladly give her the boy, but after taking her back to the trading post and putting her on a barge, he did not want to ever see her again.

His handsome features set in a disgusted frown, he prowled along the lake's edge, attempting to follow her last set of footprints. She had stepped across rocks here and there, but every yard or so he came across a clear print. It was no challenge to track her, but rather than return to their last camp as he had expected, she had gone on. Perplexed, he continued following the river's curving path, until at last he sighted her seated on a rocky point that jutted out into the water. She was so still, he thought she might have fallen asleep sitting up; and when he called out to her, she didn't turn, or answer.

When he got close enough, he could see that her hair was damp, but so was her dress, as though she had gone swimming fully clothed. That seemed like a very silly thing to do. Now within a few feet of her, he again spoke her name. As before, she remained oblivious to him and continued to stare out at the lake. It wasn't until he knelt by her side and touched her arm, that she noticed him.

Lacking a way to catch and cook fish, she had been living on berries, and while the juice had lent her lips a subtle rose tint, she was noticeably thinner. Perfectly calm, she sat staring at him now, her features serene, but there wasn't the slightest glimmer of recognition in her glance. Terrified that he had lost her in a way he had not even imagined, Hunter grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

"Alanna, answer me!"

Alanna cocked her head slightly. Hunter was again fully clothed in buckskins. He looked fit and strong. Compared to him, she felt very small and insignificant. He seemed insistent that she speak, but only one thought occurred to her.