"Uncas."
Alice replied serenely though she was shaking inside. Eight years.
Uncas eyed her stoically, looking neither angry nor happy to see her.
Alice tore her eyes from him and transferred her attention to the boy standing motionlessly in between them. In the middle of his parents.
But the child regained his composure and extended his hand hesitantly, "Hello, how do you do?"
Callum spoke perfect English. Ichante, Alice corrected herself. His diction was clear and concise, with little inflection.
Alice clamped down on her sudden urge to cry and leaned down to take his hand reverently. His palm was already callused at such a young age.
"I am very fine, thank you. You look...very well." she smiled gently at him. She longed to hug him but she could not. She gave up those rights seven years ago.
Just then, Cora ambled into the garden, with Mikayla at her hip. Her eyes widened when she saw her nephew and brother-in-law. "Ichante? Uncas? Why are you here?" She hurriedly put down Mikayla, who ran straight to Alice and hid in her mother's skirts. Cora embraced Ichante and smacked a kiss on his cheek, "Hello, darling. Your father did not tell me you two were coming down to Albany." The boy hugged his aunt back, his features relaxing.
"You could have sent a note, my dear brother-in-law," Cora chided, sending Uncas a quelling look. Uncas merely shrugged apologetically in response. Alice patted her daughter's head, not knowing what to do next. To her astonishment, Uncas spoke up, "Cora, could you take the children in first?" Alice gulped. He wanted to talk to her - in private. Cora nodded amicably, "Of course. Ichante, can you get your sister? Her name is Mikayla."
Sister. Alice's heart skipped a beat. Of course, Ichante and Mikayla were half-siblings. How would Ichante take to that? How would Uncas take to that? She stole a glance at Uncas, whose expression frustratingly remained inscrutable, though his eyes followed his son keenly.
She watched nervously as Ichante obediently approached Mikayla, who peeked at him from behind Alice's skirt. He crouched down and held out both his hands, palm up. "Let's go in and play, Mikayla. There are many toys inside." The little girl studied her brother suspiciously, her brows knitted. Ichante stretched out his hand and brushed an errant white-blond curl off her cherubic face, "Aunt Cora made chocolate cake. It's really good."
Mikayla's eyes brightened at the mention of chocolate and released her hold on her mother's skirt. An amused smile tugged at Ichante's lips and he stuck his hands closer to his sister. Mikayla tentatively placed one of her hands in his. Ichante led her towards their aunt, who looked delighted that the siblings had not taken long to connect. With a cheery wave at the adults, she shepherded the children into the house.
Alice turned to face Uncas, her eyes misty, "He knows his name is Callum."
"We told he had an English name when he was old enough to understand. I don't think he actually remembers you calling him that." Uncas commented mildly, sauntering towards Alice in that unhurried manner of his.
Alice squashed the instinctive reaction to flee, digging her toes determinedly into the ground. He halted about half an arm's length away from her. She cleared her throat, "Did he know before today..."
"He has known for a long time that his mother is English and sister to his Aunt Cora." Uncas confirmed, " He also knows his mother named him Callum. Never thought of hiding the truth from him."
Alice fidgeted under his scrutiny, feeling like a child who misbehaved. "You must have been shocked all those years ago when Cora returned from London," she finally said, mustering her courage to look at him in the eye.
"I was more shocked to find out you kept the baby," he answered bluntly, his dark eyes glinting enigmatically.
Alice flushed darkly. She struggled to find a suitable response but failed. Her shoulders drooping in defeat, she croaked, "I'm sorry." She was not sure what she was sorry about and whether it was appropriate to answer him as such. But whatever the reason, her apology was sincere.
"Don't be. He's a good boy." Alice heard the unmistakable pride in his tone and her heart squeezed painfully.
Uncas gestured at her simple black mourning gown, "I'm sorry about what happened to your husband."
Alice accepted his condolences with a brief smile and changed the subject, "Are you unhappy that I am here?"
There was a pregnant pause before he answered shortly, "Ichante has the right to know his mother."
He had not answered her question, which spoke volumes on his opinion about her decision to move to America and seeing her again.
Alice figured she was better off keeping their conversation impersonal, "How have you been?"
"How do you think I have been?" came his rather rhetorical reply.
Alice blinked at him, thrown off-balance. So much for keeping things impersonal.
Uncas kept his gaze trained on her, his head cocked patiently to one side. His stance triggered the memory of eleven-month-old Ichante, regarding her in exactly the same manner.
Flustered, she pinned a forced smile on her face, "Very well, I presume. I never doubted you would get on well."
Her remark sounded loaded though Alice did not intend it to be such. Or did she?
"You look well. I'm glad," he returned quietly, ignoring her unintentional barb.
Why was he not asking her why she had sent their son to him? Was he ever going to tell her how he felt when he first knew about Ichante? Why was he not upset with her for abandoning her baby?
"Go home, Alice." Those words rang in her ears as if she heard them yesterday, and not eight years ago.
"Callum... Ichante... he... I... Seven years ago..." Alice stuttered, unsettled by Uncas' lack of judgment or reproach. It made her feel more guilty than ever for ditching her son all those years ago.
She looked up at the man who once caused her heart to flutter, who once broke her heart.
He looked back at her, his eyes searching hers intently.
Alice shook her head, "I'm sorry. I should not have... Cora needs my help with preparing supper. I should go in."
With that, she whirled around and made a beeline to the house.
"It was never your fault."
Alice stopped in her tracks.
Uncas drew up next to her, his eyes fixed ahead.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
Alice felt something inside her snap and without a backward glance, she dashed into the house.
Uncas watched as Alice disappeared from his sight into the house. He sighed heavily, kicking a pebble on the ground. His mind travelled back eight years...
Eight years earlier.
"Let me stay, please."
Uncas leaned his back against the door, his hands tightly fisted at his sides. He could hear Alice breathing erratically on the other side of the door. She was crying. He could hear the tears in her voice. Tears and betrayal. They were at Reverend Wheelock's cottage in Albany. He had just informed Alice he was sending her back to England. Cora and Nathaniel were with them. Nathaniel had tried to dissuade him while Cora simply opined she would let Alice make the final decision. Alice had been standing outside the door of his room for at least half an hour. Everyone else had left the house at his request - he wanted to be alone with her when he broke the news.
"You lied! You said we were coming to Albany to buy supplies! You planned to send me home all along!"
She started banging the door, pleading with him to let her stay, let her into his room.
Uncas tried to block out her voice, but he could not. A lone tear seeped from the corner of his eye and dribbled down his cheek.
"I will do anything you say. Please let me stay." Alice hiccupped.
Uncas could not bear it anymore. He wrenched open the door and Alice collapsed through it. Uncas caught her and shook her shoulders, "Stop it, Alice. Just go home."
Alice lifted her head and noticed immediately that his cheek was wet. She ran her thumb over the dampness. "You are crying. Why?" She whispered brokenly, her large grey eyes welling up with fresh tears.
Uncas knocked her hand away, " Just go. I don't want to see you anymore. Go back to England, marry a white man, have his children. Forget everything that happened here."
"What about that night in the cave? Do I forget that too?" she demanded hoarsely.
"That night was a mistake. A stupid mistake. You are a mistake." Uncas grounded out roughly.
Alice turned white at his words.
Their unforgettable night together. Her first time with a man. It was a stupid mistake to him. She was a stupid mistake to him.
Uncas resumed ruthlessly, "You are the biggest mistake in my life, Alice."
One-and-a-half years later.
"Uncas?"
Uncas sat up at Cora's voice outside his wigwam - his sister-in-law was back from England. He swiftly rolled to his feet and stepped out of the wigwam. The sun was setting fast, with swathes of violet and orange painting the sky.
Cora looked tired and dishevelled, with his brother hovering next to her, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "What's wrong?" Uncas asked sharply.
Nathaniel chewed his bottom lip, "Er... Cora has something for you."
Cora whipped around to glare at her husband, "Some thing?"
Nathaniel corrected hastily, " Well, not a thing but -"
Before Nathaniel could complete his sentence, Cora swivelled around and presented her back to Uncas. Uncas took a step closer and peered at the bundle on her back. A little face poked out from the swaddle of cloth - a child. He gingerly brushed back the hood that shrouded the child's head and the child looked up at him curiously. His heart slammed into his ribs and a choked gasp escaped his lips.
A boy. His son. His child with Alice. It was like looking at a miniature version of himself, only that the toddler was fairer and his eyes an exotic shade between grey, green and brown. The child was all him except that he had Alice's ears, mouth and her default innocent, wide-eyed expression. So much of her. So much of him.
"His name is Callum." Cora offered kindly, noting that her brother-in-law was in a state of unprecedented shock. She was certain he was not aware that tears were streaking down his cheeks as he reached out to cradle his son's face. The baby did not avoid his touch but continued to eye his father with rapt attention.
"What did she say?" Uncas grated out as he carefully lifted the boy out of the makeshift carrier. Callum clung to him immediately, somehow sensing Uncas was someone he could trust.
"She wishes for you to raise him." Cora stated plainly.
Uncas tightened his arms protectively around Callum - that he could do for her. He had been powerless to do anything for Alice while they had been together - but now he could finally do something worthwhile for her. He would raise their son - and raise him well.
"She doesn't want him?" Uncas could not help asking.
Cora averted her eyes and muttered, "She is married to a family friend of ours. The Earl of Craven."
Uncas had enough knowledge of the English ways to know that an earl held importance and status in the English society. Alice belonged to another man. Though Uncas knew that would happen eventually, the confirmation still sent a stabbing pain through his heart. But at least there was closure now.
Cora used a silk handkerchief to dab sweat off Callum's forehead, "He's not used to the weather here yet. He looked uncomfortable throughout our journey from the port."
Callum seized the silk cloth from Cora and held on to it stubbornly, "Mama." He waved it around, "Mama." Uncas caught a whiff of Alice's familiar lily scent. Cora would have washed the handkerchief during their journey but a lingering fragrance remained. Alice.
"Mama is not here, darling. You have your papa now," Cora assured her nephew, kissing his soft cheek.
Nathaniel tousled Callum's hair, "He doesn't cry. He looks for her but he doesn't cry."
"Who is this child?"
Pamuy, his wife of five months sashayed towards him. She had been helping the other women in the village to prepare the evening meal.
"My son."
Present
Alice loved their son. It was obvious to Uncas from her reaction to Ichante earlier. She had almost been afraid to touch him, worried she would unwittingly hurt him if she did. Uncas had no clue what her memories of her time with Ichante comprised; Ichante had no recollection either of his brief year with his mother. Mother and son were not complete strangers to each other; but there was a vast chasm between them.
Not once had Ichante brought up his birth mother - not to Uncas, not to Cora. Not even to his uncle and grandfather though he was aware that they knew Alice too. It was Uncas who would occasionally mention Alice and when that happened, Ichante would nod dutifully but would not probe further.
Uncas sighed again and made his way to the dining room. A few of the boarders regarded him with open fascination as he greeted Cora's employees and chatted with them. Alice was helping to serve the food, while Ichante and Mikayla sat with the children on a table in one corner of the room. He approached them and crouched in between the two, noting that though they were half-siblings, they looked nothing alike. Mikayla probably looked more like her sire.
Ichante was busy picking chunks of carrot from Mikayla's bowl of beef stew. "She doesn't like carrots, too." Ichante announced happily. There was a pile of carrots on a plate next to his bowl, too. Uncas revised his earlier opinion - maybe they were alike in other ways, and like their mother in some.
"Your mother doesn't like carrots either," Uncas murmured in reluctant amusement. Mikayla flashed him a toothy grin, her mouth smeared with stew. She was adorable.
"I have grown to manage my distaste for them." Alice briskly informed Uncas as she set a basket of freshly-baked bread on the table. She was bewildered that Uncas had remembered she disliked carrots. "How?" he responded with a straight face. Alice replied flippantly, "I just bite and bear it - then swallow it down with all my might even if it is horrible."
"Is that what you always do... bite and bear it?" It was his turn to deliver a loaded question.
" Yes - and force myself to swallow it down. No matter how horrible. " Alice reiterated firmly.
"Even if it hurts like hell?"
They were not talking about carrots anymore. Uncas snagged Alice's skittish gaze and held it.
Alice considering lying and declaring she could take anything thrown at her, no matter how awful. But it was not true. There was a moment in her life when it hurt so much that she could barely swallow, let alone breathe.
"That I find horribly impossible to swallow."
Author's Note
Sorry for the long wait! And very grateful to all the reviews and insightful info you guys have been providing to tickle my creativity and help me write better. Thank you all so much.
