The hunting moon had arisen. But for Alice Munro, it was commonly known as the month of September, and September implied two things: it was time to harvest the crops, and Uncas would shortly be leaving for the next six weeks. The time of year had come once more when, Uncas, would depart with his father and brother to collect their furs and pelts, and take them to the nearest trading post to sell. From there, they would purchase the much-needed supplies for the approaching winter before returning home. Over the course of the journey, they would traverse nearly a hundred and fifty miles on foot, mostly through hostile territory, and would be sleeping out in the open the entire time. Alice disliked the thought of being separated from Uncas for such a lengthy period. She had been permitted to accompany them once on such a trip, saying she could help to skin and clean the animals they trapped. However, after realizing her presence not only slowed them down, because she couldn't keep up, but also because they had to halt several times for her to rest, which put all of them in great danger. Therefore ever since, Alice had henceforth vowed she would never undertake such a journey again. Well, at least Cora would come to stay with her while Uncas was away.

Standing on the wooden steps outside the small log cabin Uncas had built for her, Alice leaned against the oak post and looked to the forest, which Uncas had moments ago disappeared through. She admired the transition from vibrant greens to hues of beautiful red and orange, just like the color of the sun. She loved the beauty the season of fall exhibited. Uncas had long ago told her Autumn represented life and death. The old year dying with the falling of the leaves, and the new year being born with the gathering of the harvest. Alice considered his explanation to be beautiful and poetic.

The year was 1761. The four years which had passed would find Alice Munro much changed since her arrival to this strange land in August of 1757. She had transformed from the timid English rose into a true woman of the frontier. She cooked, cleaned, helped plow the fields and tended to her beloved garden. Alice was confident, daring, bold, and strong-willed. Yes, Alice had changed much in those four short years. Even her proud, fine English friends wouldn't recognize her - but Alice didn't care, she had no intentions of ever setting foot on English soil ever again. The frontier was her home now, and she was happy here, happier then she had ever been before.

Since the battle between Uncas and Magua on Promontory cliff four years ago, a fight Uncas thankfully won, Alice never left his side. Even when Cora returned to England, to settle their father's estate and then promptly return, she refused the invite to go with her, stating she wanted to remain with Uncas; and stay she did. Over the course of the following months, Alice could often be found sitting, with Uncas, under the maple tree in the same clearing where they eventually built their cabin. They would spend hours talking, sometimes even into the late hours of the night, sharing stories of their families and childhood. Hearing him tell of his first hunt, excited Alice in such a way that she couldn't describe. His stories were like the adventures she had spent so much of her childhood reading. They were simply thrilling. As the couple grew in their knowledge of the other, so did their love: and when Cora returned three months later, the couple married the following December.

Alice smiled to herself as she fingered the simple gold ring on her left hand. The exchanging of wedding rings was a practice commonly observed only among white people; but Uncas insisted she should have one as well, despite her objections that she didn't need one. The argument was of no avail, for Uncas had his way in the end, and bought her a gold wedding band soon after. Later he would lament for not having bought her a jeweled ring, to which Alice would answer she wouldn't want any other ring, then the one he had given her. To say they were deeply in love with each other was an understatement in Alice's mind. She loved Uncas with every part of her body and every fiber of her soul, as he loved her in the same manner. Truly, she never remembered a happier time in her life.

As dusk began to fall, Alice turned and went back into the house where Cora sat playing with her son and daughter. The young girl of twenty-one years smiled at the sight of her sister playing with the little boy of two. Edmund Michael Poe looked exactly like his father, long brown hair, sharp refined features and piercing green eyes. Edmund's twin sister, Margaret Ann, looked more like her mother with each passing day. The only feature separating them was her hair. Where Cora had raven black tresses, Margaret's seemed to take on more of a golden hue. A memento from Cora and Alice's mother no doubt. A slight sentiment of envy rang through Alice. She knew it was wrong of her, but she couldn't help it. Alice had been married for four years, nearly a year longer than her sister, and she still hadn't been blessed with a child. Whereas Cora had two beautiful children, with another on the way. She knew that Uncas wanted children, and so did she. The two pregnancies Alice had, sadly both ended in miscarriages, one of which nearly claimed her life. It broke both of their hearts, knowing their unborn children had died, but Uncas held onto the hope that they would one day, be blessed with a child of their own. However, since then, she had been unable to conceive. Alice had lost all hope of becoming a mother, and she knew Uncas was beginning to lose faith as well.

"Are you all right?" Cora asked, noticing her sister was unusually quiet.

Awareness dawned on Alice's face as she went over and sat on her rocking chair in front of the fire. "I am fine, Cora. Just a little tired, that is all." She answered. Picking up the dark blue calico dress she was making for herself, she began to work on the hem.

Cora watched her sister closely while she worked diligently on the article of clothing. She was surprised at how easily Alice had taken to making her own clothes - especially since she was accustomed to having all her dresses made for her, and of the finest materials as well. Silk, brocade, satin and velvet, were the fabrics which once lined their wardrobes, was now replaced with simple cotton, linen and calico. The two sisters no longer donned the fine clothes and jewels as they were so used too. In fact, Alice found that she quite enjoyed the liberty from the restrictive corsets she was made to wear. She preferred the simple dresses she had learned to make for herself over the years.

"The dress looks very nice," Cora said.

"Thank you! I have enough fabric left to make a matching shirt for Uncas. I think he will simply look dashing in dark blue. Don't you?"

"Yes, he certainly will," she answered gayly. Alice continued on with her work in silence. But Cora's keen senses could tell there was something troubling her deeply, and she knew Alice wouldn't tell her what it was of her own volition.

"What's troubling you, Alice? You forget I can tell when something is wrong." She didn't answer. "Please tell me, my dear. Perhaps I may be able to help."

Alice paused her work and expelled a deep sigh. "Oh Cora, it is not as simple as that. I fear you shan't be able to help remedy what ails me."

Rising from her place on the floor, Cora came over and rested a hand on Alice's knees. "Oh, sweet girl, tell me what's bothering you."

She set her work down on the nearby table and thought for a long moment. 'Would Cora truly be able to help? Would she truly understand? I doubt it,' Alice said to herself. If only it was a simple matter and not one of jealousy.

"The truth is, Cora," she began, "that I envy you."

"Envy me? Why do you envy me?" Cora asked with wide eyes at her sister's sudden confession. 'Why would Alice be jealous of me?' she thought.

Alice looked at her sister and felt guilty for having ever said what she did. She felt the guilt the moment her lips parted to speak. But now Cora presented her with a question and it would only be right to answer. "Because you have been so blessed, where I have not."

Cora came closer and sat next to her sister. She placed a loving arm around her shoulders and thought for a very long moment before speaking. "Dear sweet Alice. You too have been blessed. Do you not see all there is to be thankful for? You have a beautiful home, health, and a man who adores you with every breath in his body. What is it I possess that you don't?"

She looked to her sister, tears beginning to whale in her eyes. "Children," she said. "You have children, and I have yet to be so graced." Tears fell freely down her cheeks, each leaving a trail in their wake. Cora pulled her closer and hugged her tightly.

"Oh, Cora!" she cried, "what am I to do? Uncas wanted children so badly, and I am unable to give him any. I know his father wants him to carry on the Mohican bloodline, and if I'm unable to conceive, then he may leave me. I don't want to lose him, Cora. I can't."

Cora held her sister close, consoling her as best she could. She now understood why Alice always became silent and withdrawn when the twins were present. It wasn't she didn't love them, she adored them. But Alice felt a sharp sting of pain when reminded of her two miscarriages. The deaths of her babies had taken a great toll on her spirit, even though she carried it in her stride. Cora sincerely understood Alice's pain. To lose a loved one, especially a child, is heartbreaking. The innocents' deaths affected everyone, but none more so than Uncas and Alice.

"My dear girl, it'll be alright. It'll be alright." She said.

"No, it won't."

Cora shifted away and locked her eyes on Alice's. "Listen to me, Alice, I know you're heartbroken, and I know Uncas is too. But listen, hope is not lost, not yet. It never truly is. One day, you and Uncas will sit out there on the steps of your cabin, watching your little ones play and climb the maple tree that both of you so love. I promise."

Alice wanted to believe her. She really did. She wanted the hope, faith, the reassurance, but all of that just seemed lost. Cora said she understood, but she didn't know all that had transpired in the previous months. Alice blamed herself for everything. All of it. The miscarriages. The inability to conceive a child. The growing distance between her and Uncas. Alice ladened all of it onto herself. She was plagued by their ghosts day and night. If only she had listened to Uncas, maybe then things would have been different. But her stubborn nature to help Uncas on that hot summer day in June got the better of her. She wanted to be of use. Wanted to work side by side with her husband. If only she had listened...

- June 1760 -

She had awoken that day with sharp pains shooting up her back and legs, and an unspeakable pressure in her abdomen. But the pains subsided just as quickly as it had appeared, so Alice thought little of it when she got dressed that morning. It was going to be a long hot day, Uncas had said so the night before, and she never remembered him being wrong when it came to the weather. Not once.

Alice looked over to where her husband still lay asleep on his side of the bed and smiled. He always looked so peaceful when he slept. Alice made it a habit to get up before he did, just so she could cook his breakfast.

On impulse she went over and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, letting the back of her fingers glide across his cheek as she did. She smiled again, thinking about how lucky she counted herself to have such a man as Uncas for her partner in life. He had done so much for her. Given her everything. Alice now looked around their bedroom. It was modest and humble but she didn't mind.

Spread out across the hard wooden floor was an Elks hide, which Uncas had shot the Spring following Promontory. In the corner to the right of the East window that looked towards the lake, mountains, and fields, was a fireplace, a true luxury for most. Beside the window, sat two rocking chairs, which Chingachgook and Nathaniel had carved for them as a wedding gift. There were many evenings when the couple would sit there in the glow of the warm fire, and look out upon the lake. Other times too, they would spend their nights reading a novel Uncas had bought for Alice from the traveling pedlar, Thomas Wright, or just Old Tom for short. He would pass by their farm every few weeks or so to trade and bring them the latest news from the surrounding settlements. Situated between the West facing windows, looking out to the maple tree, sat their bed with its simple feather mattress and quilted coverlet. The quilt previously mentioned, had been made by Alice's mother during her long confinement in bed with tuberculosis. Cora had brought it back from her final expedition to England and gave it to Alice, knowing she would want it as a memento from their late mother. And Alice treasured it, as though it were made the finest silk and not from old cotton patches. True, it was not Portman Square. It was better.

Outside a lark sang it's morning tune far off in the maple tree. Drawn back from her thoughts, Alice leaned down and placed a feather-light kiss on Uncas's cheek before rising to leave. She felt a hand take hold of her wrist and stop her. Looking down, she saw Uncas smiling back to her, his eyes now wide open. "What did I tell you about waking at the crack of dawn?" He asked in a groggy voice.

Alice sat down on the edge of the bed as he rolled over and kissed her. "I know. But I wanted to prepare your breakfast. We have a long day ahead in store for us." She said, referring to the plowing they were going to do to prepare for planting the following week.

"No, I have a long day ahead of me. You must stay inside and rest." Uncas informed his wife firmly. His hands traveled to her extended belly where their child grew inside her. "You must rest, Alice. Remember what the doctor said?"

She huffed and crossed her arms, plastering a vexed expression on her face. "O pish posh! what does that doctor know? He's not a woman. He's a greedy arrogant fool, who looks down on you and is reluctant to attend to me. I believe he would turn me away from his door if it weren't for one thing. Money. Doctor Ashford is nothing more than a pompous old windbag!"

Uncas let out a soft laugh. "But he is a doctor none the less." He pecked her on the cheek before rising and pulling on his shirt and buckskin leggings. Alice remained sitting with her arms crossed. "Please pet, don't exert yourself. I will handle the work today. Hawkeye and nooch are coming to help, and so is Cora and the children."

"Well, I may not be allowed to help you plow, but I can at least work in the garden," she said stubbornly. "There's weeding to be done if we are to plant vegetables and fruit before August."

"No, I will tend to the garden as well."

Alice shot him an irritated look but gave in. There was no point arguing about it. "Alright!" she agreed, releasing an exaggerated sigh.

Uncas flashed her a smile as he finished fastening the wampum belt about his waist and tucked his knife and sheath into it. He came over to where she still sat and leaned down, gently pressing his lips against hers. He then asked with a wide grin. "Now, how about that breakfast?"

The day wore on slowly. By noon Uncas, with the assistance of Nathaniel, had plowed most of the south field. Despite the adventurous life he once led, Uncas took to being a farm owner quickly. It was easy to see that he enjoyed it immensely. As for Nathaniel and Cora, they lived just a little ways down the path and shared in the work and care of the farm. Both brothers worked the land together and shared the spoils they reaped each year. Chingachgook, after much consideration, settled into a peaceful life with Cora and Nathaniel, while also making frequent visits to his son and daughter-in-law. All in all, life seemed perfect for everyone. Everyone but Alice that was.

Alice watched the hard laborers from her bedroom window. She felt so useless, sitting indoors knitting a blanket for her baby, which would not be born for another four months. She wanted to help, and that made her angry. Angry at Uncas, angry at herself. Nathaniel, who was carrying his daughter on his back, urged the horses onward further up the field. Even Cora was out there being of use. With her son secured in a papoose on her back, she sauntered about the field gathering rocks and weeds and tossing them out of the way. Why couldn't Alice help as well? It wasn't fair in the girl's mind. None of it was. She looked back down at her near finished knitting project and tossed it into the basket on her lap.

"I'll be damned if I have to sit here another moment!" she said to herself. "I'm going out there and at least do something that is of use. Even if it is picking wild berries for supper!"

With that, she tossed the basket on the floor, got up from her seat, and walked out into the open air and down the path into the woods. Well, at least she would get some exercise in, as well as peace and quiet away from her doting family. Ever since the announcement was made that she was expecting, Alice had been barely allowed to pour herself a glass of water. Ever since she had this never ending feeling of slothfulness, and she hated it. So the chance to take a walk alone without the disturbance of others was a welcome change. Alice reveled in the peacefulness of nature. Her hand began to softly rub her protruding belly. She hummed an old Scottish lullaby her mother used to sing to her, and one she planned to sing to her baby when he or she was born. Alice longed for a son; a strong little Mohican, just like his father. But Uncas wanted a daughter with golden hair like her mother. If only he possessed Alice's keen motherly intuition. They would have a son, of that she was certain.

She had barely traversed a half mile when her eyes spotted their prize. There, down by the creek, was the biggest huckleberry bush she had ever seen, covered in thousands of juicy berries just waiting to be picked. Alice came closer and took in the aroma of the wildflowers surrounding the shrub covered in little nuggets of black gold. Reaching out she picked one of the juicy berries from among the thorns and ate it, savoring its sweetness. She filled her basket, filled it to the brim. She thought about how happy Uncas would be when she baked him a pie from her newly acquired treasure.

As she neared the house, a sudden, stabbing pain rang through Alice's slender frame, exactly like the one she experienced that morning. It felt like a white hot knife was being pushed into her belly. A cry stifled in her throat, tangling with her breath and causing her to reach for the nearest tree for support. When the ache subsided, she continued walking back to the glade. 'Just a few more steps,' she told herself nearing the border of the forest. 'Just a few more.'

Tightly she clung to a tree as another excruciating pain radiated through her body. Her eyes traveled downwards and saw blood beginning to pool on the soft earth. Alice's heart nearly stopped beating at the thought of her child in danger.

"Uncas!" she screamed out, falling to her knees as another stabbing sensation rang through her. "Uncas! Someone help! Help! Uncas!"

Halting his work, the young Mohican's warrior senses seemed to hear the call of distress before it was even sounded. Darting in the direction where the sound of his wife's voice had come, Uncas, followed by his brother and father, found Alice lying on the ground, her skirts drenched in blood. Uncas mirrored the look of terror on her face as he scooped her into his arms and ran back to the house...

- Present Day -

Alice lost the baby. Stress. That's what the doctor said it was. Stress which brought on her sudden travail. But Alice knew that it wasn't so. Once again, Dr. Ashford was wrong. He had also said it was miraculous that Alice survived, considering the great amount of blood she lost. The girl's entire body was racked with pain and weakness. Yet none of that could be compared to the pain of her soul.

As she had predicted, it was a boy. She was allowed to see him before they wrapped him up to be buried. He was beautiful. Although only five months developed, Alice could see that he would've indeed taken after his father in appearance. Wisps of dark hair were on his head and his skin already bore a dark complexion. Alice held him and kissed him and cried for him. Her little boy would never see the faces of the parents who were so anxious to meet him. Never hear his mothers voice when she sang him the Scottish lullabies she had learned from her mother. Her little boy.

Fresh tears streaked Alice's face at the remembrance of her little son buried in the field of wildflowers by the creek. He didn't even have a name. Only a little wooden cross, on which a single feather was tied, marked the grave. She looked back to her sister still seated next to her. Alice realized there was no point telling her about the struggles between her and Uncas. It wouldn't be right to burden her with her problems. Instead, she smiled and rested her hand atop her sisters.

"Thank you, Cora! I hope you're right." The corner of her sister's lips curved upwards into a soft, reassuring smile. "I'm very tired. I think I'll retire. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" Cora said watching Alice's figure disappear down the hall and into her room.

Little did Alice know that her sister was indeed correct about her earlier prediction. Soon, she too would be sitting happily watching children play by the old maple tree.

Authors Note:

Hello everyone! So, how did you like the story? It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but the more I wrote, the more ground I had to cover. Soon, I had close to 8,000 words. That's a mouthful. So, I'm splitting it up into three parts. I hope you enjoy the story. Happy reading.

M.M. Darling.