At the Fort - The Missing Scenes - Part II
Mr. Phelps watched Alice leave then looked at the Indian still standing by the table, shirtless but wearing what appeared to be a challenge in his eyes. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but the Indian turned his back and reached for his tunic. As he slipped it over his head, Mr. Phelps said, "I'm sure the Colonel is grateful for what your family did for his daughters." For a brief second, the Indian froze in the act of tying his belt, but he shrugged his shoulders as if settling his shirt into place before turning back to Mr. Phelps who continued, "You must understand, Alice is an innocent. She has never been away from her homeland." The fingers of both hands clenched and unclenched as they hung by his side. "If you—"
"I would never hurt her," Uncas interrupted in that deep, quiet voice of his.
Mr. Phelps cleared his throat again, unsettled by this Indian's calm demeanor. He shifted on his feet, uneasy with the conversation he himself had started. The Indian could have walked out the door and not looked back, but for some reason, he hadn't. "I've known the Munros for many years. I've been on campaigns with the Colonel and his eldest daughter. They would not take kindly to any attention you might bestow on Miss Alice. Nor would many others." When Uncas did not respond, Mr. Phelps persisted, "Do you understand?"
"I understand," Uncas replied then stepped towards the door.
Mr. Phelps shuffled aside as it appeared that Uncas was not about to stop or excuse himself to go past. He watched the Indian's long strides carry him into the night. He sighed heavily and shook his head. "God help them," he whispered.
While Uncas understood Mr. Phelps' concern, and indeed, a part of him even appreciated that the older man was looking out for Alice, his point of view still rankled. If the Major or another white soldier or even his own brother had paid her any mind, would they have been subject to the same lecture? Uncas thought not. He also understood that while some of the white settlers were not hostile, some even calling themselves friends, many of them would not tolerate anything beyond a passing acquaintance between him and a woman like Alice.
He had held her in his arms twice—at the burial grounds and in the infirmary. She had allowed him to kiss her and it oddly felt like they were made to fit together. Her quiet acceptance of all she'd witnessed impressed upon him that she was not as weak as her sister and father seemed to think. They treated her as if she was a porcelain doll but Uncas sensed steel deep inside her.
He aimlessly wandered towards the sleeping quarters he was sharing with his father and brother when he noticed Nathaniel saunter out of the building. He appeared to have a specific destination in mind. Uncas followed him with his eyes and watched as Miss Cora Munro drifted up to Nathaniel, took his hand and leaned into him. Arms wrapped around one another, they disappeared behind the infirmary.
Uncas stood unmoving for a moment then turned away from the sleeping quarters, unsure where he was going; he knew only that he did not want to be confined inside four walls right now. When he found himself near Colonel Munro's lodgings he was surprised to see Alice sitting on a small barrel outside the door. She was staring down at her hands cradled in her lap but looked up, as if she sensed his approach even though he had not made a sound. She stood. He halted. Had he imagined her mouth forming his name?
"Uncas," she said as she glided towards him. When she reached him, she looked into his eyes and asked, "Did Mr. Phelps say anything to you?" He remained silent, not yet willing to share the physician's warning. "They all think I am a child still," she muttered, "but I am not a child." She raised a tentative hand and touched his upper arm with gentle fingers. He reached up and took her hand, lightly tugging her towards a small copse of trees lit only by the waning half moon. He expected her to protest or question where he was leading her, but she said nothing. This was not the first time she seemed to trust him implicitly.
When they were among the shadowed trees, he turned her so that her back rested against a pine, and wrapped his hands around her waist as he had in the infirmary, with an assured but loose grip. "You are not a child." He touched her cheek and traced her bottom lip with a thumb, his eyes roaming her face. "Know this, I would never hurt you. Never force you in any way."
She placed her fingers over his lips to silence him. "I know," she whispered, "I know," her gaze never leaving his face.
He kissed her fingers then slowly moved his mouth towards hers, affording her ample opportunity to pull away. She rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. Her hands found his shoulders, roamed to his neck and around to the back of his head. She pulled herself against him, stroked his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth to receive her and enfolded her in his arms, running his hands up and down her back.
Her responses continued to surprise and enchant him. When they'd first met, he'd expected shock, disgust, but he'd not seen any of those things reflected in her eyes whenever she looked at him. Even after he'd scattered the horses on the George Road, unlike her sister who'd stood silent and immobile, Alice had challenged him, yelling and pulling at him. He'd gripped her arms and spun her around to face him, expecting fear or revulsion or both, and thinking perhaps in this situation, it was an advantage. He did not expect the wide-eyed fascination he thought he'd glimpsed.
With the exception of a few white women, like Alexandra Cameron, he rarely experienced such acceptance. He tried to reassure with his silence, tried to appear non-threatening, but his dark skin and tattoos seemed to frighten people, especially women. And so he'd begun to let Nathaniel speak in his stead.
Their tongues continued the ancient dance. He felt Alice's fingers dig into his hair. He trailed his mouth along her cheek. When he reached her earlobe, he bit gently. She whimpered, her head falling back. He traced kisses along the column of her neck, used two fingers to push the fabric of her dress aside and expose the top of her shoulder. He pressed his mouth against her smooth, supple skin, his fingers skimmed her nape.
"Uncas," she breathed and gripped his upper arms. Her head tilted against his. "Uncas," she said again, as if she could say nothing else at that moment.
He pulled back, staring at her. "Alright?" he questioned, moving his hands to her face, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs.
She nodded, flicking her gaze up to his eyes. A smile tugged at her lips. "You?" she asked.
He grinned. "Never better," he replied then tucked her head beneath his chin. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders well above his wound and squeezed. He treasured the way she clung to him, as if no one else in the world existed or mattered. The top of her head brushed his lips and he murmured her name.
She leaned back and swept the hair away from his sharply angled cheekbones. Staring into his deep brown eyes only partially illuminated by the light of the moon, she asked, "Uncas, what will happen?"
"Not sure. Whatever happens, stay near your father."
"I don't mean that," she said. "I mean, what will happen . . ."
He tilted his head, waiting, though he thought he knew what she was asking.
"Will I ever see you again?" she exclaimed.
He heaved a sigh. "Will your father send you away?"
She shook her head, "I don't know. Perhaps Cora knows, but they . . . they don't . . ."
He nodded. "Mr. Phelps warned me to stay away from you."
"I knew he said something after I left," she hissed.
"He is only concerned for your safety," Uncas replied.
She gazed up at him, placed her hands on his chest and stated, "I have never felt safer than when I am with you." Her unflinching gaze tore into him and he felt humbled. He shook his head and turned away. "Uncas, look at me," Alice said and turned his face towards hers. "You are unlike anyone I have ever known. You called me brave and strong, but you, you are fearless, undaunted. You give me strength and courage. You make me want to be more than I have ever been allowed to be."
"Alice, it has always been there inside you. I saw it the first time you tried to stop me from chasing the horses away. You confronted me, unafraid. You didn't know if I was friend or foe but you didn't hesitate."
She smiled, rested her head against his shoulder. He felt her fingers explore the tattoos just below his collarbone in the open V of his shirt and pressed her hand flat against his chest. "It is not a safe time. Too many unknown enemies. Too many people who think I am just a savage out for your virtue." When she raised her head and opened her mouth to protest, he gathered her close, kissed her forehead.
"No," she said defeated, "no. You are good and honorable."
"But a savage in their eyes."
"But never in mine," she whispered against his chest.
Voices rang out by the Colonel's lodgings. Uncas stiffened. "We should return. They will look for you if you are not safe and snug in your bed. They should not find us together."
Tears formed in her eyes, overflowed. She shook her head. He palmed her cheeks, wiped her tears with his thumbs. "Let's take each day as it comes, see what tomorrow brings," he said.
"I fear I will never see you again after tonight," she said.
He kissed her tears, each eye, her nose, finally her mouth, and buried his fingers in her hair. She clung to him, indeed as if it was the last time she would see him, touch him. When they finally parted, he said, "Go. I will not leave without telling you. Somehow, I will get a message to you."
"Promise me," this as she clutched his hand.
"I promise."
She looked back only once as she trudged up the slight incline to her father's quarters. He watched her until she entered, waited a few more moments before leaving the shelter of the trees. He saw Cora push the door open as she returned from her own assignation with Nathaniel. With his usual stealth, he made his way back to his sleeping quarters, thinking he would not see Alice again after she and her family reached whatever destination the Colonel decided upon. The Colonel, he was convinced, would make sure of that.
Author's Note: I changed the status from "Complete" to "In Progress" because Uncas (and even Mr. Phelps!) had something to say about all this. Since someone else may want to say a few words as well, I am calling the sections "parts" instead of "chapters" because it may not be linear.
I made a few minor changes to fix the timeline that I hadn't really been paying attention to. Nothing major, just a few lines so it doesn't seem like the surrender has already happened at this point.
Thank you again to all you readers and reviewers! I appreciate your support and encouragement!
