I do not own The Last of the Mohicans.
I have loved it for nearly thirty years.
A Breed Apart
Time Enough
They walk together to the homestead.
After she releases the one she loves enough to remind herself to greet . . .
"Alice, . . ."
. . . his quietly observing father . . .
". . . it warms my heart to see you so welcome our return."
. . . with his small, knowing smile.
And she blushes.
"Chingachgook!"
But not much.
"I am so very happy to see you!"
She leans in conspiratorially, suddenly a bit shy.
"I helped Rebecca after baby came! With the liver and the tea! Three days!"
But with a touch of pride nevertheless.
"She did not like it in the least, but I made her eat it!"
Then they walk, her and the one who has returned to her.
Close together, heads nearly touching with quiet conversation.
She gives Uncas willingly enough to the others when they reach the homestead.
The returning men are greeted with handshakes and claps on the back.
Another round of joyful physical attack from the boys.
Mary, delighted hugs and stream of consciousness words.
And the introduction of the newly borne babe.
Uncas takes him as he is given, easily cradling the wee one close and safe.
Gazing deep into his eyes.
And Alice swears he is communicating with the child.
Whose wavering, pudgy hand manages to reach up, find the face.
And take hold of the slender, straight nose.
She does not sit at his side at the table.
No, not next, where her hands might wander of their own accord.
Not next, but across.
Across.
Where she may look easily upon his face. Allow the conversations and movements of the others to wash over her, the undulating wave of which she has become accustom.
Stories, laughter, jests, recountings all hold court at their table.
Nathaniel and her sister did indeed lay down stakes on their return travel from Can-tuck-ee.
News from the world beyond the homestead.
Grim tidings of continued war between the white men who fight over possession of land stolen from others.
She engages with those around the table, words, gestures, as is prompted.
She responds courteously . . .
"Yes, of course. Thank you."
. . . at least she thinks she does.
If she were able to look beyond him in any clarity, she would see the amused glances exchanged between the Wall adults.
The fond memories of the fire of youth it revives within their own hearts.
She would see the children, even Mary . . .
"There is a boy who comes to visit Alice, his hair is like flame-"
. . . not understand, so heady with delight are they with the distraction from their normal routine.
And she would notice the father of the one she loves.
The father who has observed all winter, the joy between his adopted son and the woman who has chosen him.
Observed his blood son.
And the women who do not catch his eye, make him smile.
Not so as this one.
This one.
Who sits across from him now.
Eyes hardly wavering from his son's face, her own ashine in the candlelight.
He sees this, sees their path, their journey toward one another.
And accepts it.
With good grace . . .
My son.
His eyes shine bright when he looks upon her.
His spirit is lifted.
By this girl. This woman.
And the love she has for him in return.
. . . and equanimity of spirit.
They make a good match.
She has wiled hours away.
They all have.
First at the cabin's table.
Now upon the porch.
It is evening time now.
And the cow . . .
"Well, I'd best up and get to it then."
. . . will pain if she is not milked.
Alice rises, renewed generosity in her heart
"I will go."
Without her request, Uncas rises also.
Retrieves the milk pail.
And accompanies her.
She does not mind.
She should feel shy, pumping udders in rhythm as he looks on.
Uncas, seated on an overturned bucket, in her view, just to the side of the cow's rump.
She should feel shy.
But she does not.
Instead, she talks.
"What was the winter like?"
Makes him talk.
"Cold."
For some reason, this makes her laugh.
He smiles.
"Do they live in . . ."
She makes a quick triangle shape with her hands and returns to pumping.
". . . teepees there?"
He circles his own hands together.
"Wigwams. Bigger."
She muses on this.
Sees the cat sitting near.
Waiting his turn.
Flicks a sly glance to the man in attendance.
Over to the feline.
And quick as a blink, a move she has observed from Tom, practiced herself throughout the long, tedious winter.
Directs a deft squirt of milk with a twist of the wrist.
Right at the black and white cat.
Whose fang-lined mouth opens at the perfect moment.
And swallows it right down, satisfied.
Mild surprise and amusement cross the face of the man she loves.
"You would be good with a long gun."
She huffs back a grin of pride.
Voices a request.
"And you will teach me."
He smiles and says nothing.
But given the squirrel he brought for her so long ago, she has little doubt before long she will be holding the weapon.
Learning to fill the powder.
Line up a target.
Uncas by her side.
Or perhaps behind her, warm, strong hands adjusting her grip.
Feet widening her stance.
And she will learn by his patient tutelage.
His touch.
She feels a flush move throughout her body, tingles.
And decides to return to their previous conversation.
"I would like to see it for myself one day. The winter village."
He smiles.
"It is a long trek."
She sticks out a moccassined foot to him.
Wiggles it.
"I shall walk in my best shoes then."
They share quiet laughter there in the cow shed.
And reside for a while, in companionship and ease.
For there is time enough.
When she steps onto the porch that night, no woolen sock does she wear.
Her feet bare and careful.
Body wrapped in no shawl.
Shift her only covering, loose about the neck and shoulder.
For the night is warm.
And her skin is too alive to be covered so.
He is there, mere shadow in the waiting night.
Though they have neither agreed upon nor even discussed this clandestine meeting.
But he is there, nonetheless.
Rising from the porch, face turning up to hers.
She cannot help the quiet joy that spreads across her face.
And his to match it.
She pads down the steps.
Reaches out for his hand.
And this time it is she that leads him toward the river.
Thanks to BrynnaRaven, ConBird, BlueSaffire, TithaJaime, The Heartbeat (love that, thanks!) Guest, AsterLaurel, MohawkWoman, and DinahRay for reviewing the reunion chapter!
I must say, you all seemed happy with the way it went. ;)
Thanks also to Calliste9 for adding your support to this story!
And you know that thing that you've probably been waiting for?
Well . . . see you for another chapter tomorrow! ;)