Her eyes shivered open to the sound of life stirring in the reaches of the forest, the plaintive cooing of mourning doves suffusing the misty, blue-grey sky. Sleepily, she rubbed her eyes with her knuckle.

Alice felt something under her head, solid and warm. Opening her eyes wider, in an instant remembering how she had come to lay where she was, she turned her gaze upwards to see the form of the young man beside her, his arm clasped around her shoulders, her body leaning half-way onto his.

She remained very still, her breath held tight within her ribcage.

They were touching in a way that she did not want to think about, in a way that made her heart beat so loud she would have sworn he could hear it. She could justify the times they had touched before; there had been a purely human need for comfort, there had been danger and panic to keep at bay. But what was there now? What had she become that she could turn towards him in the night, cleaving to him as a wife might, to this man, so dark and strange, so manifestly different?

Men did not touch Alice in this way.

Out in society less than a year, she had attended balls and assemblies where the young men might have too much to drink, and be freer with their hands than propriety occasioned. Once, in a darkened corner, the music and laughter fogging her senses, a young officer had put his hand on her tightly-cinched waist and moved in to kiss her, but she had wriggled free and fled from him. In all her years, her father was the only man she had ever embraced, which was as it should be.

But what was she to do? How was she to remove herself from his side? And how was she to make him understand that it had all been a mistake, that she was not in the habit of doing such things, that he should not think of her in such a way?

She rolled onto her back, feigning to stretch and yawn. His arm released her shoulders, though blessedly he did not wake, and she quickly sat up, scampering over to where she had lain beside Cora. From the corner of her sight, so still she had thought him part of the landscape, she caught a glimpse of the watchful Chingachgook, leaning against a paper-white birch tree, his eyes narrowed and hard as they found hers. Her cheeks burned as she lay down on her side, her legs curling protectively into her chest.

She waited for what seemed like hours for the rest of them to stir.

At last, Nathaniel rose by the first light of the morning, shaking Cora gently and whispering something in her ear. Alice kept her eyes closed, even as her sister, now up and alert, went straight to look on Uncas, even as she heard him groan awake, even as she listened to Cora beset him with questions and instructions.

"Alice."

She opened her eyes, but kept still, her back turned towards them.

"Alice, wake up. I need your help."

Alice tottered to her feet and walked hesitantly in their direction. Uncas was sitting up, grimacing and leaning heavily against Cora, as she was attempting with some difficulty to wrap a clean strip of cloth around his wound.

"Here, help me tie this."

Alice kneeled on the ground, staring downward, staring left, right, anywhere but his eyes or his bare chest. She knotted the ends of the cloth together tightly, almost from touch alone, and as she finished, her fingertips inadvertently grazed his skin. She pulled back as if they were on fire.

"Can you get the shirt as well?"

Her hands shook a little as she took it from Cora, gathering the fabric around the collar, leaning towards him as he lowered his head. She didn't understand: did he remember nothing? How could he not see her there, blushing to the roots of her hair, her heart quavering in her chest like a cornered animal?

She lowered the calico shirt over his head and then held out each of the sleeves as he stiffly tucked in his arms. Reaching her arms around his neck, she gently pulled out his hair from under the collar, releasing it into a gleaming spray across his back.

"Hssstttt!" The low-pitched sound Nathaniel made was barely human, but it caught their attention, both their faces turning towards him, cheeks almost brushing against each other.

"Someone's coming," Uncas whispered.