Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (44 page)

"Enough?"

Rather than reply in words, Hunter placed a gentle kiss on her palm. Thinking his gesture prompted by gratitude, Alanna pulled away. "A simple thank you will do."

"I wasn't thanking you."

Too embarrassed to inquire just what had caused his affectionate display, Alanna moved back a bit, sat down, and folded her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry to have left you lying on the bare ground, but I didn't want to risk reopening your wound."

Refreshed, Hunter tried to sit up, but had to again settle for propping himself on his elbow. He had so little energy he felt as though he had been running for days and, after stopping for rest, could not go on. "Can you gather some pine branches to make us a bed?"

Alanna was more than willing to provide branches to form a cushion between him and the ground, but to share such a bed was completely out of the question. He was in no condition to force either his cynical opinions or his handsome self on her, so she let any further discussion of their sleeping arrangements slide for the moment, and went to fetch the pine boughs. She had to make several trips, but in less than half an hour, she had a fair-sized heap of tender young branches stacked beside Hunter.

The problem then became one of finding a way to shift him over onto them. Just talking exhausted Hunter, and she did not want moving him to prove to be another test of her strength and his ability to withstand pain. There didn't seem to be any way to accomplish the task without hurting him, until she had a sudden inspiration. "Can you roll over toward your left side long enough for me to shove the boughs into place?"

"I can try."

He did try, and seeing how much the effort cost him, Alanna quickly slid the boughs into place, taking care to position the needles so they extended toward the ground rather than upward like a live pincushion. "Good, now can you roll back this way, while I prepare the other side?"

Hunter couldn't stand to move his injured leg, so he was much less successful this time, but Alanna hurriedly placed the pine branches beneath him. When she stood back to assess their progress, she was almost pleased. She had managed to create a thick rectangular mattress of branches, and Hunter was stretched across it diagonally. They had failed to provide enough support for his injured leg, and she thought it ought to be propped up slightly, rather than lower than the rest of his body.

"Will it hurt you too badly, if I shift your leg up onto the branches?"

Already resting far more comfortably, Hunter tried to smile. "Just do it."

Cradling his knee in one hand and ankle in the other, Alanna lifted his leg and slid it onto the pine-scented bed. Hunter didn't cry out, but she felt a wave of pain roll through him.

"I'm sorry. I wish there were more that I could do. I don't think I can find my way back to the trading post for help. Is there another settlement near here?"

Hunter managed to shake his head, but, swimming in dizziness, he passed out again. Alanna reached out to smooth his hair off his forehead, unconsciously petting him as though he were a sleeping child. She had only just begun to fish when he had awakened, and, committed to providing something for him to eat when he felt up to it, she returned to the water's edge, where she had left his line. As a child, she had fished off the dock with her cousins, and thoughts of them brought a painful tightness in her chest she had no time to assuage with tears. If she and Hunter were to survive, it was up to her.

She baited her hook with a worm and tossed it out into Lake Sacandaga with a determination born of desperation.

* * *

It was the savory aroma of Alanna's roasting catch that coaxed Hunter awake. He knew she must be rightly proud that she had not only caught half a dozen trout and built a fire to cook them, but her achievements made him feel like a helpless fool. He tried not to sulk, or at least to hide that he was.

"You're not only strong, but smart," he greeted her.

"I was hoping you'd be awake soon. I've carved a wooden cup. It isn't pretty, but it does hold water." She carried it down to the lake and returned with a drink for him.

Hunter was somewhat cheered by the crude nature of her handiwork, but he was too thirsty to tease her about it. "Thank you," he remembered to say this time.

"Do you want more?"

"Maybe later."

Alanna didn't know how to phrase her next question delicately, but tried her best not to embarrass him. "If only we had a chamber pot, you could use it. Since we don't, can I help you in some way?"

Rather than being appalled by the sensitive nature of her inquiry, Hunter was merely amused. He laughed, and then, seeing how stricken she looked, tried to behave more like a gentleman. "Find me a sturdy stick to use as a cane, and I can get up to take care of myself. Not that your offer isn't appealing, it is, but I don't feel up to returning any favors as yet."

Alanna had not been offering as intimate a service as Hunter clearly thought she had, and her face filled with a bright blush as she turned back toward the fire. He was as adept at flirting as Melissa had been, but coming from a man, she saw his teasing as a blatant request for more than she wished to give.

Recalling the kiss he had placed in her palm, she rubbed her hand lightly to rid herself of any lingering trace of his touch.

She had watched him construct a sturdy wooden rack to roast their breakfast over coals, and had done her best to create a similar structure out of good-sized sticks. Like the cup, it wasn't much to look at, but while it had grown charred, it hadn't caught fire before the fish were done, and she thought that was all that mattered. Again a handful of broad leaves served as a plate.

"I hope this is done. If it isn't, just say so."

Hunter looked at the crispy tail and fins of the roasted trout and thought it was probably overcooked rather than underdone, but he dared not criticize her cooking, when he wasn't strong enough to handle that chore himself. "This is fine," he assured her without taking a bite. "I was tired of my own cooking."

He used his knife to fillet the fish and, while the meat wasn't as tender and flaky as he had served that morning, it was still good. "I think I am lucky to be stranded here with you."

Alanna waited for him to add another thought, but he remained silent as he ate the rest of his dinner. They each had three trout, and Alanna feared she had eaten too much, while he hadn't had nearly enough. "I'm sorry, I should have given you another trout."

"Why? You're the one who's done most of the work today. It seems you've become my slave after all."

"I certainly don't feel enslaved," Alanna argued.

"Good, then you'll have no trouble being obedient."

"That isn't funny, Hunter. Our situation could scarcely be worse. What if Blind Snake and those men weren't the only Abenaki traveling this way? What if we wake to find three more, or six more, or God knows how many others storming through our camp tomorrow morning?"

"I think you better stay up tonight to make us a canoe, so we can escape them on the lake."

In no mood to appreciate teasing, Alanna lost all patience with him. "Elliott's dead, and you can't find anything better to do than make jokes?" She got to her feet and, although the light was now fading, she sent a searching glance around the camp. "I'll go find you a stick to use for a cane, but I'm warning you now, if you keep laughing at me, I may use it to beat some manners into you."

Her curls bounced across her shoulders as she stomped off, and Hunter could not hold in his laughter. She was right. Things were bad for them, but he liked her so much, he wasn't truly worried. It wasn't until she returned and handed him a sturdy branch, that he realized he was going to have to follow through on his promise and force himself to stand.

He had eaten dinner leaning on his elbow, but now sat up slowly and braced himself on his hands. He was used to being agile, and finding himself pinned down by the knife wound in his thigh was not only physically painful, but emotionally draining as well. He had thought he could stand up long enough to relieve himself, but just getting upright posed a serious problem.

Because Hunter had ridiculed her last offer of help, Alanna stood silently waiting for him to politely request her assistance, should he need it. Thinking he probably outweighed her by at least fifty pounds, she hoped she wouldn't be too weak to make a difference. She wondered if he was getting cold without his leggings, but waited to ask that question.

Hunter felt Alanna hovering over him, and knowing she did not deserve to be the target of his ill humor, he swallowed the harsh demand that she leave him be. It wasn't until he finally had to accept the fact he could not get up on his own, that he looked up at her. "I need help," he admitted grudgingly.

Not one to gloat, Alanna moved to his right side. "If I put my arms around your waist, you can lean on me to stand, and then use the cane. Shall we try it?"

Hunter nodded. Realizing clearly that it was going to hurt, he still cried out in pain, and Alanna quickly let him sink to the ground. "I can do it," he insisted.

"Of course, you can." Alanna waited until he had caught his breath. This time he managed to find the leverage with his right leg to push himself up. Afraid he might pass out again, Alanna kept her arms locked around his torso, until he seemed firmly balanced on one leg and the makeshift cane. Then she released him and took a step back.

"Can you make it?" she asked.

Hunter's head felt impossibly light, at the same time his body felt at least double its usual weight. When he swayed slightly, and came dangerously close to falling, Alanna again encircled his waist with her arms. "I'll help you walk over to the bushes. Is that where you want to go?"

To be dependent on a slender girl for a walk of no more than ten paces left Hunter feeling totally humiliated. He knew he would probably fall without her help, but he was loath to ask for it. It was only the very real possibility of bleeding to death should he hit the ground on his injured leg rather than his seat, that prompted him to nod.

"I grew up with Byron and Elliott," she reminded him. "They liked to swim in the nude, so how men are made is no mystery to me. I know you're embarrassed to have to ask for my help, but you needn't fear that I am."

Hunter was concentrating so hard on just reaching the bushes, he couldn't respond to her encouragement. He had a firm grip on her with his right hand, and an even tighter hold on the cane with his left, but the combined weakness of his limbs and dizziness of his mind made what should have been an easy few steps, close to impossible. Alanna kept guiding him gently, however, and once they had reached the shrubbery, made certain he was steady enough to take care of himself, before she stepped away and turned her back.

Hunter remained upright long enough to relieve himself, but then when he tried to reach out for Alanna again, he pitched forward into the bushes, and would have slid all the way through them to the ground, had she not been quick enough to yank him out of them before that tragedy occurred. His buckskin shirt had saved him from suffering any deep scratches, but his dignity was definitely tattered. He resorted to his native tongue to express his displeasure, but Alanna could easily tell he was swearing by his tone.

"Come on," she coaxed sweetly, "let's get you back to bed." She eased him around, and he hobbled back to the pine mattress without further mishap. Getting him back into a reclining position was almost as great an ordeal as helping him to stand, but she finally succeeded in returning him to bed. "We'll do better next time," she assured him.

"There won't be a next time," Hunter grumbled. "I'll be much better in the morning, and I'll take care of myself."

"Good. Would you like another cup of water? I wish I'd thought to look for berries, so we'd have some dessert. I'll find some tomorrow."

Missing dessert was a matter of absolutely no consequence to Hunter, and he motioned for her to lie down beside him. "You come to bed, too," he ordered in a lazy slur.

Alanna hadn't planned to sleep with him, but she had had no time to gather additional branches to make her own bed. With Hunter so weak, she easily convinced herself she ought to sleep next to him, just in case he awoke and needed her. "Are you cold? Do you want your leggings?" she asked.

The prospect of having to wiggle into them, when it would surely be a painful ordeal, convinced Hunter they were the last thing he needed. "No, come to bed."

Alanna spread out her shawl to soften the crude mattress. "I had thought yesterday was bad," she related absently. "I'm almost afraid to hope that our situation will improve tomorrow."

Hunter was too weak to reply, but when she stretched out beside him, he reached for her hand and gave it a fond squeeze. "You should have stayed at home," he mused darkly, but if she bothered to argue with him, he didn't hear it before he fell asleep.

Chapter 20