Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (42 page)

"We'll soon reach the southern foothills of the Adirondack Mountains. They won't be able to track us through the rocks, and even if they could, we'll have the advantage of having a well-protected camp and can defend ourselves. Come on, we still have a long way to go before dawn."

"Dawn?" Alanna repeated weakly. "I can't take another step."

"Do you wish to become the Abenaki's whore?"

"Of course not!"

"Then you will walk!"

Before Alanna could protest that she could not, Hunter had taken her hand and, towing her along behind him, again made good progress through the stream.

* * *

Alanna awoke as the first faint rays of sunlight appeared in the east. Hunter had removed her boots and stockings and was rubbing her feet with insistent circles, but she was so numb, she couldn't decide if the pressure of his thumbs felt pleasant or painful. All she knew was that keeping her eyes open was impossibly difficult. She didn't recall his giving her permission to take a nap, but if he had, apparently the time was up. She didn't speak until he looked up at her.

"I really mean it this time," she vowed weakly. "I can't take another step."

Hunter slapped her calf playfully. "Yes, you can. You're a strong girl, Alanna. I like that."

She was merely confused by his compliment. "I don't feel strong."

"Well, you are, or you wouldn't have made it this far. Look around. We're in the foothills. We're near Lake Sacandaga, and I'll catch us some fish for breakfast."

The mere mention of food sickened Alanna. "I think what I really need is to sleep for a week or two. Then I might feel up to eating."

"Are all white women so lazy?"

"Lazy?" Alanna sat up and jerked her bare feet from his grasp. "You kept me running all night, and you dare to call me lazy?"

For some perverse reason, Hunter was enjoying teasing her. "Would you rather that I had taken you to Blind Snake's camp, and left you with him?"

"How do I know Blind Snake was even there?"

"You think I made up that tale just to keep you moving all night?"

Hunter looked horribly insulted, but Alanna was too tired to care. "I wouldn't put it past you."

Hunter picked up her stockings and boots and tossed them into her lap. "I have no reason to be mean to you. Unlike Melissa, you and Elliott were kind to me."

At the moment, all Alanna remembered was the way he had kissed her and then told her to sleep with Elliott. That was no way to repay kindness. Had that only been the day before yesterday? she wondered. Looking at Hunter again, she could see the strain in his face; she felt that same strain clear through.

"We ought not to fight amongst ourselves," she suggested. "I'm sorry for what I said."

Choosing to ignore her conciliatory gesture, Hunter's tone was harsh. "Put on your boots and hurry, or I won't wait for you."

Alanna managed to slip on her stockings without too much difficulty, but her feet were so badly swollen, she did not think she could wear her boots. She envied Hunter the comfort of his moccasins, and kept twisting and turning her foot in an attempt to wedge it into her boot. She was certain that if she could just figure out how to get one boot on, the other could be donned with ease.

Hunter stood silently watching Alanna's pitiful efforts to make her once small feet fit into a pair of impossibly tiny boots, and knew she was never going to be able to do it. He again knelt beside her and drew his knife. "Give me that boot," he ordered. When Alanna complied, he made several lengthwise slits in the vamp to give her more room. "Try that."

Alanna stared at the shredded boot. "You've ruined it!" she exclaimed.

"If you can't get your sweet, little feet into them, then they are no good anyway. Now just try it on, and if it fits, I'll cut the other one to match it."

Much to Alanna's dismay, her swollen foot slipped right into the boot; and while it certainly wasn't attractive, it was wearable. She stood up and tried taking a step. Her feet ached all the way to her knees, but at least she would not have to walk barefoot over the rocky soil.

"I suppose how my boots look is the least of my problems. Thank you." She sat down again to wait, while he made the same cuts in her other boot, and then put it on. When he offered his hand, she got to her feet.

"How far is the lake?"

"Not far," Hunter promised. "After we've eaten our fill of fish, you can bathe and wash your clothes. That will make you feel better."

Alanna could easily imagine how dreadful she looked, and she doubted a quick bath in a lake would do all that much to enhance her appearance, when what she longed to do was soak in a hot tub for hours. He was trying to be nice to her, however, and she did her best to smile. "I'll look forward to it."

It took them more than two hours to reach the lake. Hunter made no demands upon Alanna whatsoever, while he used a hook and line to provide the breakfast he had promised. He then gathered wood and built a fire to roast his catch, and gave her the first bite. "I hope you don't mind eating off leaves rather than dishes."

"Why no, unlike plates, leaves don't have to be carried or washed, and I couldn't manage either chore now."

Hunter ate the next trout himself and another, while Alanna continued to consume the first one he had roasted. She ate with dainty, ladylike bites, while he was so hungry he gave no thought to eating like a gentleman. "You should eat more," he scolded.

"Do you like fat women?"

Hunter shook his head. "You know what I like: pretty blond women like you."

Unable to believe he was flirting with her, Alanna paused in mid-bite. Hunter was smiling slightly, but it was enough to convince her there was some truth behind his jest. "I never think of myself as pretty," she admitted shyly.

"You're even prettier than Melissa."

To be compared to Melissa was the last thing Alanna wanted to hear. She rose, brushed away the particles of fish clinging to her fingers, and looked out toward the lake. "Do you really think it's safe for us to stay here long enough for me to bathe?"

Hunter could see by the abrupt change in her manner that he had hurt her, but he didn't understand how. "Yes, go on. Bathe, wash your dress. I won't bother you."

"It's not you I'm worried about."

Hunter captured her glance and held it. He thought that in many ways he was more dangerous than Blind Snake, but if she did not understand why, he was not going to explain. "Good. Now go on, hurry. I don't want to camp here all day. We need to find a more secure place before nightfall."

It was not even noon, so Alanna knew they had plenty of time. She walked down to the lake's edge and sought a spot where the surrounding foliage would provide the privacy she desired. She hung her shawl and the belt with Elliott's knife still suspended from it on a branch, and then peeled off her torn and soiled dress. She waded into the lake and did her best to scrub the garment clean, then came out and spread it out over the bushes to dry. Her once snowy white cap was dirty and tattered, and after she had washed and wrung it out, there wasn't much left to dry. Too shy to slip out of her chemise and drawers, she again entered the lake still wearing them.

The water was too cold to be enjoyable, and she had to force herself to bend down to wet her hair. She wished Hunter carried a bar of soap with him, but lacking that, she rubbed her long curls between her hands and hoped that the fresh water alone would rinse them clean. She had to wash her lingerie as best she could while still wearing it, but thinking any effort toward cleanliness would be an improvement, she hurriedly completed the task and came out of the water.

She would have to wait for the sun to dry her clothes, and shook herself to fling the remaining water out of her lingerie, before sitting down on a grassy spot several feet from the water. The natural beauty of the scene, and the sun's warmth lulled her into a dreamy mood, and she soon began to yawn. She got up to turn her dress over, so the sun would dry the other side, and then returned to the comfortable patch of grass. Telling herself she had time for a brief nap, she stretched out and closed her eyes.

When Alanna didn't reappear as soon as Hunter had expected, he rose and went to look for her. When he found her sleeping soundly, he swore under his breath and reached for her dress. It was still damp, however, and thinking she could use additional rest more than a dress that wasn't dry, he let her sleep and went for a swim. He left the water clean, but no less apprehensive about their situation. He wanted to move up into the hills where no one would ever find them; impatient to go, he dressed hurriedly. He then set about erasing all trace of their campfire, thinking that when he finished, he would wake Alanna and they would move on.

Rather than Hunter's deep voice, it was a rude shout that jarred Alanna awake. She sat up with a start, her heart pounding furiously in her breast. She heard several male voices then, but they were speaking a language she didn't recognize. Praying that Hunter was talking with trappers who had happened their way, she slowly got to her feet and peered through the shrubs, which had provided such a convenient screen.

When she saw Hunter was being confronted by Blind Snake and his two companions, she felt sick, but knowing this was no time to faint, she forced herself to take deep, even breaths. Hunter's back was to the water, but Blind Snake had his musket pointed at his chest to prevent him from diving into the lake. The other Abenaki braves were standing back, laughing as their leader taunted Hunter with insults she was certain were vile.

Apparently eager to draw blood, one of the braves took a step closer. Brandishing his knife, he made a suggestion which brought forth raucous laughter from his friends. He was now standing near the bushes that shielded her from view, and Alanna was presented with the most difficult choice of her life. She could slip away unnoticed and save herself, while Hunter would undoubtedly die as hideous a death as her family at the Abenakis' hands. Or, if she found reserves of strength she had not known she possessed, both she and Hunter had a chance to survive.

Her decision made in an instant, she reached for Elliott's knife.

Chapter 19

Not wanting to give away Alanna's hiding place, Hunter avoided looking in her direction, but with all the yelling Blind Snake and the other two braves were doing, he felt certain she had to be awake. He hoped she had sense enough to wade back out into the lake to cover her trail. Blind Snake kept asking him where his woman was, but he stubbornly refused to acknowledge that he understood him.

He masked the steps he had taken toward his enemy with broad gestures of confusion, but from the moment the three Abenaki had sprung from the woods to surround him, his plan had been clear. He intended to kill them all, and now regretted he hadn't made an attempt to slit their throats while they slept. He smiled and shrugged, his attention apparently focused on Blind Snake's evil smirk, but taking in the actions of his two bloodthirsty companions as well.

The man closest to Alanna's hiding place was holding a musket, but when he let out a strangled shriek and spun away from the shrubbery spraying a haze of blood from the long, deep gash in his side, Hunter didn't waste an instant. His attention diverted momentarily, Blind Snake didn't see Hunter coming, and he not only wrenched the musket from the Abenaki's hands, but drove the stock into his nose with a stunning blow. Dazed, and in excruciating pain from his crushed nose, Blind Snake staggered crazily, and Hunter's next blow caught him in the side of the head, rendering him unconscious.

Hunter turned toward the only uninjured Indian, but the man was already running for him. Before Hunter could either fire Blind Snake's musket or swing it as a club, the Abenaki dove low and hard, stabbing Hunter in the left thigh. Flinging the weapon aside, Hunter drew his own knife and, ignoring the blood running down his leg, he went for his attacker with the same wild vengeance he had gone after Blind Snake. The Abenaki was skilled with a blade, but not nearly as proficient as Hunter, and he was soon bleeding from a half-dozen cuts on his shoulders and arms.

From the corner of his eye, Hunter saw a white flash, and knew it had to be Alanna. The Indian she had stabbed had fallen to his knees, crawled a few feet, and collapsed. Mortally wounded, he was clutching his torn side and moaning pathetically. Alanna made a grab for the fallen brave's musket, but Hunter didn't need help from a woman.