Alice resumed her biscuit-making as Uncas played with Byron, which really meant just swinging and throwing the toddler around in the air. Byron gurgled with delight and Uncas' harsh features softened noticeably. They had at least had something in common - having Byron as a nephew. The child proved to be a blessed distraction - and excuse - for the two adults and banished the need for them to strike up a conversation.
"Pretty hair." Byron crowed to Uncas in Mohican, pointing at Alice. He obviously didn't inherit his preference for women from his father. Uncas disregarded his nephew's compliment to his blond aunt and heaved the boy to sit on his shoulders. "No children?" Uncas swivelled around at Alice's voice and answered brusquely , "No." Then he added sardonically, "No man?" She didn't reply.
Everyone was back in time for supper. "Like the cabin?" Chingachcook inquired casually. Alice chewed on her meat vigorously and gave a quick nod, avoiding the elder's eyes. "You can stay too - plenty of space." Uncas suggested levelly. "Too cold." his father responded enigmatically, causing Uncas to ponder whether there was a double-meaning to his words. "It is a little too big for one person." Alice mused offhandedly. "Too empty." Chingachcook agreed dispassionately. "Pass the salt, please." Cora intervened quickly. And the subject of Uncas' home was dropped.
" Are you really all right staying with Uncas?" Cora quizzed worriedly as the sisters boiled water to make tea. The men were reclined on hides in front of the hearth. Byron had been put to bed just before supper. Alice arranged the biscuits she had made earlier on a plate, "Yes." "If you feel uncomfortable being around him -" "He's never around and he won't be. Don't worry." Alice enunciated succinctly, picking up cups with her plate-less hand and making her way to the men.
To Cora's surprise, Alice set the plate and cups down in front of the men and walked away. In fact, she walked towards the door and before shutting it behind her, she informed softly, "I'll be outside." Nathaniel looked as if he was going to say something but stopped himself. Uncas popped a biscuit into his mouth and chewed leisurely. Cora flopped down beside Nathaniel with a defeated sigh. Chingachcook sipped his tea, casting a thoughtful glance at the door.
Alice inhaled the crisp, fragrant air as she took a slow stroll around the cabin, absently playing with the silver chain around her neck. Three years. She recalled how she had cried the entire journey home from New York to London. How she cried herself to sleep every night in her bedroom in London until she could cry no more. Alice didn't know why she couldn't stop crying then; she still didn't know why now.
Aunt Maura was a dear and fretted over her niece like a mother hen. Aunt Maura had been her pillar of strength for the past three years. Alice didn't know what would have happened to her if Aunt Maura hadn't been by her side. It was because of her gratitude to Aunt Maura, Alice dutifully listened and did everything Aunt Maura told her to do. Though in retrospect, Alice bleakly wished she hadn't obeyed Aunt Maura's every instruction. Alice's fingers unconsciously slipped down the chain to the pendant that lay hidden beyond the bodice of her gown. She had been such a mess then that she had only herself to blame for everything.
She heard leaves crunch and turned her head. Uncas stood at the edge of the clearing. Alice realised she had wandered further than she thought. She also was aware that Uncas moved like a ghost so he had wanted to get her attention by stepping on those leaves. He could have just called my name. Then nearly snorted out loud - he probably despised the sound of her name too. "Getting late." he said, his deep voice resonating in the darkness. Alice gestured distractedly at the cabin, "I'll get my things."
Alice was pleasantly shocked to see that the wooden tub had been moved to a corner of the cabin, partially shielded by a low cupboard. "Thank you." she expressed sincerely. "I'll get water from the stream." He replied in a civil tone. He disappeared with two wooden buckets and Alice took the opportunity to remove her dress. Wrapping herself in her robe, she cleansed her face at the wash stand, scrubbing the grime of the day away. She recalled seeing a few pieces of worn cotton in the bedroom - they would be useful as washcloths for bathing.
Stepping in the bedroom, she found what she was looking for. Clutching the cotton squares, she paused and inspected the roomy space. Everything was neatly arranged in clinical fashion, with nothing out of place. Cora had told her Uncas kept mostly clothes and random knick-knacks in the chest. If Uncas hadn't made that comment of his former wife sleeping on the bed, she would never have guessed that the room - and the cabin - once yielded the presence of a woman. It was stark and overwhelming male. The only items in the home were rifles, knives, bows and arrows, books and tools. Uncas obviously thought little of personal possessions.
She heard water splashing - he was back from the stream. She made her way back to the living area just in time to see Uncas round the cupboard, hefting the buckets. His hair was damp and his skin glistened wetly - he had washed up before coming back. He was wearing a loose white shirt over his buckskins, and his feet were bare. This was what his former wife enjoyed before she turned in every night. A steadfast warrior who loved, cared for her, and looked after her every need. Not to mention a devastatingly good-looking one at that. When was the last time a man did anything for her?
Uncas peered at Alice through the hazy glow of the cabin. She was staring at him listlessly, pieces of cotton dangling forgotten at her fingertips, her mind obviously somewhere else. She blinked when she caught him looking at her. She thanked him again in her subdued manner and went behind the cupboard. He crossed the floor to head outside to give her some privacy when she mumbled tiredly, "You don't have to leave." Uncas treaded out of the door, shutting it with a thud.
Uncas leaned against the doorframe, gazing at the midnight sky. He could barely hear splashes - she must be just languishing in the tub. He had asked his father earlier at supper why Alice was putting up at his place. His father had retorted with a rhetorical, "Why not?" To tell the truth, Uncas truly never expected to see Alice again. He never once thought she would visit Cora in America since all Cora ever discussed was her visiting her old home and younger sister when Byron was old enough to travel.
He had waited for her then. Even when his father broke the news that she had left on a steamer to London, even when there was no farewell note or letter from her - he had waited for her. Uncas waited for her for three months, refusing to believe she had left him high and dry without a word. Refusing to believe she could just walk out on him after that soul-scorching night under the falls where she gave herself to him.
The day Chingachcook and Nathaniel suggested he marry Aponi, his former wife, he had taken off to the port in New York. He had stood here watching the steamers glide in and out for three days, three nights in the brittle cold of winter. Come back. His heart had screamed in desperation and mounting fury. When he returned to the Delaware camp a week later, he was dead inside. He finally accepted that Alice was never coming back. He didn't want her to come back. Ever.
He had married Aponi the following day in a low-key ceremony. Aponi had been one of the women who had helped nursed him back to health in the weeks he had been rendered immobile from his injuries. She had been a sweet, quiet, pleasant girl and had been more than willing to be his wife. Just before the ceremony, Cora had sought Uncas at his wigwam. Gripping his arm tightly, her eyes flooded with tears, she had apologised, "I'm sorry about Ali-" "Don't." he had cut her off chillingly. Cora took one look at the hardened, remote features of her brother-in-law and conceived that he meant it. He didn't want to hear her sister's name ever again.
The door creaked open and Alice's head popped out, her mane a tousled, dripping mess. "You can come in now." Uncas pushed off the wall and went back inside. The first thing he noticed was the two piles of fur: one in front of the hearth and the other in a corner. One bold eyebrow arched in question. "It is ridiculous that you have to sleep outside - this is your home." Alice explained stiltedly, waving her hands around helplessly. When his eyes narrowed, she hurriedly continued, "You can sleep in the room and I'll sleep in the living area. Or I can sleep outside and you..." She trailed off nervously.
"Take the room." He finally responded and headed to the pile of furs in front of the hearth. Alice bit her lip - she actually preferred sleeping in the living quarters. Uncas had shared the bedroom with his former wife - it felt like she was violating his privacy. But she didn't want to rile him further so she dragged her feet to the bedroom. She studied the bed with its spotless white sheets. Throwing herself on them, she tugged the blanket, which was at the foot of the bed, up to her chin. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed herself to sleep.
One hour later, Alice was still wide awake. Her senses were buzzing with awareness instead of being in repose. The blanket, though laundered clean, oozed hints of Uncas' unmistakable scent. She fought the urge to bury her face into it. She was in the middle of the bed - the bed Uncas shared with his ex-wife. He had lain on this very bed with his ex-wife...she sat up abruptly. Tearing the sheets off the bed, she tossed them on the floor and plonked down. The ground was hard and cold without furs in between but anywhere was more comfortable than the bed now.
Uncas roused with a start, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife strapped on his ankle. Something had jolted him from his sleep. He listened with concentration - muffled sounds were coming from the bedroom. He frowned and rolled to his feet. Was Alice still awake? The bedroom door was ajar. Moonlight trickled through the window - the bed was empty and disposed of sheets. He glanced down and saw Alice's blond head near his toes. Did she really prefer sleeping on the floor so much, he wondered, unreasonably vexed.
He was intending to leave when she whimpered softly. That was what had disrupted his slumber. He crouched down and up-close, he saw sweat beading her forehead and matting her hair, her eyebrows were drawn tightly together. He lightly felt her forehead - her temperature was normal, she was just distressed. Probably homesick and fatigued from the long journey, he surmised. Without thinking twice, he picked Alice up, sheets and all, and deposited her on the bed. For a second, he scrutinised her sleeping form, bundled in the sheets. Her blond tresses tumbled around her face and glimmered white in the moonlight. Her feathery lashes lay on her cheeks, her mouth slightly pouted. The toes of her left foot peeked out from under the sheet, while a pale arm streaked across it. She looked eighteen. Uncas left the room.
Alice groggily stirred - her throat was dry and she was perspiring. She needed a drink of water. It was still dark outside. She cracked her eyes bigger - why was she on the bed? Logically Uncas could be the only reason for her shift in position but why would he have done so? Had he heard her in the throes of yet another bad dream? Alice fervently hoped not since Uncas was the last person she wanted to explain her recurring nightmares to.
Tiptoeing to the kitchen, she swallowed a cup of water and sighed. She wished she could sleep through the night - she must be still adjusting to her new surroundings. Uncas was sprawled in front of the hearth on his side, one arm flung over his face. She went to him and sat on heels next to his prone physique. She quaked in the chilly air and on impulse, she lay her palm in the middle of his chest. His heart throbbed strongly. And the incredible warmth that radiated from him felt achingly familiar. Alice felt her anxiety ease...and stifled a scream when his fingers suddenly wrapped around her wrist like a vice.
Her gaze flicked up guiltily and collided with his isolated one.
"Don't touch me."
