Alice felt the summer heat like a weight upon her shoulders, her limbs turned heavy and slow, a perpetual dampness settling on the nape of her neck. The air was full and ripe, as slowly the sky dimmed and the rolling undersides of the clouds turned grey. She almost hoped for rain, for the heavens to open wide, even though there would be nowhere to hide from it once it began, if only for the small relief it would bring.
They would have to stop soon, she knew. Nathaniel and Chingachgook were clearly growing weary, the weight of Uncas still braced between them. He had not wanted to be carried at all and at first had protested vociferously against the idea. But Nathaniel's resolve had been stronger than the younger man's embarrassment, and, having finally been made to understand that he would not be allowed to risk further injury to himself, for the last few days he had submitted to being borne along.
At night, the heat had lifted slightly, as they made their camp near a copse of trees or beside the bank of a narrow stream. Their meal consisted of the seemingly inexhaustible supply of dried deer meat that Nathaniel carried in his pack, together with a handful of ripened berries or nuts that they frequently found along the way. By the time they settled down to rest, Alice was often so fatigued that she struggled to stay awake, her eyes repeatedly fluttering open with determined effort. Her mind drowning out the ramble of conversation, she found that her unfocused gaze continued to linger on Uncas, taking in the smooth line of his jaw as he turned towards Nathaniel, the stillness of his hands laying in the bend of his lap. She had not forgotten that morning in the clearing, before the sun had broken, the feel of his arm around her, of the violent threshing of her heart. She had felt reckless continuing to glance at him so, but how else was she to ensure that he was not looking at her in a too familiar manner?
Alice dreamed of birds in flight, the tufts of their wingtips splayed open as they latched onto warm currents of air.
The endless hours spent walking, simply being alone with her thoughts, had soothed her mind. Two months was not such a long time, she reasoned. It was not as if they meant to keep her here forever. And what a story they would have to tell, once she and Cora were back in England, enough to keep the fashionable set in Mayfair occupied for half the season.
Stretching her arms over her head, her tired muscles aching with the strain, she looked up: the clouds now turned dark and menacing, the sky itself almost ready to burst open.
They suddenly crossed into an open field as the forest seemed to melt away behind them. To her left she saw a few rows of dried-out crops, a split-rail fence making a half-hearted effort to separate the civilized world from the wilds beyond. She recognized this place. Though no longer covered in a corona of smoke, she saw as she moved closer that it was the same half-scorched log house they had come across on their way to the fort.
Nathaniel and Chingachgook stopped a little ways in front of her, looking at something near the tree line on the other side of the open clearing. When she followed their line of sight and squinted, she could see several mounds of earth, grass growing around but not on them. From each emerged a crude wooden cross.
Nathaniel closed his eyes for a moment and nodded.
"Good man, Jack," he said, in a voice so low Alice barely heard it.
The copper sky suddenly lit up with a crack, the sound both deafening and still, and then warm rain began to pummel the earth with a growing intensity. It soaked into the ground, splashing up against her ankles, and flattened her hair against her face.
They ran towards the ruined cabin, the only visible shelter, Alice making little yelps as she moved, her gathered skirts filling her hands. She saw that half of the roof still stood, as she scrambled up the porch steps and then inside. The rain and darkness were making it difficult to see, but a pair of hands grabbed on to hers, pulling her deeper into the recesses under the protruding beams. A blaze of lightning briefly illuminated the sky and she saw she was looking into the deep-set eyes of Chingachgook. Saying nothing, he led her towards the back wall and deposited her, their hands releasing as Alice slid down to the wooden floor in a heap of sodden skirts. He turned and left, not looking back.
Alice's eyes began to adjust to the darkness. But before she saw him, leaning against the wall less than a pace from her, she had heard the sound of Uncas's breathing.
It was all too much: she was exhausted, distressed by too many things to count, and soaked to the marrow of her bones. She dropped fully onto the floor, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling her arms taut around her legs, as she tried not to think about anything.
Another pair of hands grasped her by her ribcage – these different than the first ones, somehow strong but gentle – and pulled her back a little, until her head and shoulders lay across his thigh. A hand moved over to her shoulder, and she felt the warmth through the thinness of her sleeve.
She thought to get up, to move herself somewhere else, but she didn't. Time was now measured by the unhurried rhythm of his breath, as her curled body relaxed into sleep.
Just this once, she repeated to herself, just this one time. What did it matter, anyway, when she would soon enough be back in England?