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

by Phoebe Conn

  "Yes, please do." Melissa held out her arms to welcome her husband with an enthusiastic embrace. "That awful Indian is here again, and somehow he thought that I liked him. I'm so embarrassed that he could have mistaken my friendliness for affection, that I'd rather not sit at the same table with him. Do you mind?"

  Alanna closed the door before Ian replied, but she had the uneasy feeling she had just witnessed a performance that would have done a professional actress credit. She would have liked to have provided an excuse herself and also eaten in her room, but unwilling to take such a cowardly option, she forced herself to join the family. Her apprehensions proved unfounded when there was nothing threatening in Hunter's manner during the meal, and as they left the dining room for the parlor, she stepped close.

  "I gave Melissa your message."

  Hunter barely nodded his appreciation, and because Melissa had not asked Alanna to convey a reply, she kept their conversation to herself. John wanted to hear more about the skirmish with the French, and she and Rachel excused themselves and went to their rooms, rather than listen to any more of the disastrous tale. Once there, however, Alanna found it impossible to prepare for bed. She knew she ought not to be so curious about what had transpired between Hunter and her cousin, but Hunter's anger and Melissa's denials had left her aching to know the whole story.

  She was still dressed and wide-awake when she heard her uncle and cousins come up the stairs. She listened at her door, expecting to hear them tell Hunter good night before he went up to a guest room on the third floor, but apparently he wasn't with them. Had he decided not to spend the night? she wondered. Or had he merely gone to meet Melissa?

  She opened her door a crack, and sat down where she would be sure to hear anyone passing by her room. She sat nervously fidgeting in the dark, and prayed that any footsteps she heard would be Hunter going upstairs to bed, rather than Melissa sneaking out to meet him. She had nearly nodded off when the clock in the parlor struck midnight. Instantly alert, she rose and moved to her door. In the next instant she felt rather than heard Melissa tiptoe past her room.

  Alanna did not mean to spy on Melissa, but she did not think her headstrong cousin ought to meet Hunter alone either. She waited a few seconds to allow Melissa to reach the bottom of the stairs, and then followed her outside. The moonlight reflecting off her white nightgown created a ghostly image, and Alanna had no trouble keeping her in sight. She followed at a discreet distance, but realizing that Melissa was headed for the dock, she swung around to the south and approached through the trees bordering the river. She was too far away to overhear Melissa's conversation with Hunter, but she could at least keep an eye on her cousin and run to her aid should she need it.

  Unaware that they were being observed, Hunter rushed forward to greet Melissa. He drew her into a warm embrace and kissed her with a demanding passion meant to inspire the truth. Rather than welcoming his affection as she had in the past, however, Melissa was coldly unmoved by his ardor and stood stiff in his arms. When he released her, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

  "I'm a married woman," she stated proudly, "and I've come to tell you goodbye. I've already spoken to Ian about you, so you can just forget making any vile threats. He'll never believe you."

  Hunter grabbed her arm to again pull her close, and slid his hand over the slight swell of her belly. "Does the fool believe this babe is his?"

  "It is his," Melissa swore.

  "Not if you were wed in May."

  "We were secretly married a month earlier. That's when the child was conceived."

  Her golden hair glowed in the moonlight, but her features were shadowed, and Hunter recalled how many nights he had lain awake trying to see her face clearly in his mind's eye. He had remembered her blue eyes had the bright sparkle of the sun and her fair skin the cool beauty of the moon, but now he saw her as no more than the pale reflection of his own desires. Cold, heartless, that she had deceived him so easily filled him with shame.

  "You were with me in April," he reminded her.

  "That was no more than a foolish mistake I shan't repeat."

  "Neither will I," Hunter responded with equal bitterness, "but how can you be certain who fathered your babe?"

  Melissa knew the truth, but she had buried it so deep in her soul that she could not admit it to anyone, least of all to him. She wrenched free of his grasp and began to back away. "Don't try and make trouble for me," she warned. "If you even hint to anyone that I so much as kissed you, I'll swear you raped me. My honor is as precious to my family as it is to me, and you'd not live to stand trial for the crime."

  Shocked by the venomous hatred dripping from her words, Hunter forgot the string of ugly insults he had practiced, and merely shook his head in disbelief. "Is it really me you despise, or yourself?"

  "You! Now go away and don't ever come back!"

  Hunter didn't try and stop her when she ran from him. Instead, he turned toward the river and wished with all his heart that he had had the sense not to climb out of the bateau the first time he had visited the Barclay plantation. That had been his first mistake. His affair with Melissa had been another, but he vowed there would not be a third.

  The brevity of Melissa's meeting with Hunter had assuaged Alanna's fears for the moment, and she hurried back to her room. She did not know what she had expected, but if Melissa and the Indian could settle their dispute so quickly, then she tended to believe her cousin's story had been closer to the truth than his. Grateful that Hunter would be gone in the morning, she climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep.

  * * *

  Accustomed to waking early, Alanna's late night vigil did not prevent her from following her usual routine and going out to the stable shortly after dawn. She swung open the door and nearly tripped over Hunter, who lay asleep in the straw piled just inside. She hesitated a moment, thinking the sudden burst of light would awaken him, but he continued to sleep undisturbed.

  He had impressed her as being a proud man, and she wasn't surprised that he hadn't wanted to sleep in the house. Melissa had undoubtedly dismissed him with a remorseless vigor that had to have left him feeling both abused and bitter. His happiness wasn't her responsibility, anymore than Melissa's probable cruelty, but she could not help but feel sorry for him.

  She knelt in the straw and reached out to touch his shoulder. "Hunter, it's morning, wake up," she urged.

  Exhausted, Hunter came awake slowly, and because it suited his dreams, he mistook the blond woman silhouetted against the open doorway for Melissa. He reached out to grab her arm, pulling her off balance and into the straw beside him. He closed his eyes as he kissed her and her initial reluctance to respond inspired rather than discouraged him. Peeling away her cap, he wound his fingers in her curls so she'd not escape his eager kisses, and he tried with a tenderness he'd not shown her at midnight to rekindle the passion they had shared all too briefly.

  Taken completely by surprise, Alanna was so shocked by the Indian's sudden passion for her that she didn't have the presence of mind to struggle. Instead, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed against him with such a light touch it went unnoticed. Whenever Graham leaned down to kiss her, she turned her cheek, and therefore she was unprepared for a man who lacked such elegant manners, and instead took what he wanted. His insistent kisses weren't in the least bit unpleasant though, and her initial dismay gradually turned to a ready appreciation of what Melissa must have liked about him.

  She savored the sweetness of his adoring kisses until she realized he had transferred his affections from Melissa to her with unseemly haste, and, unwilling to be a substitute for her cousin, she summoned the anger to shove him aside. "Yesterday it was Melissa you wanted, and now it's me? I had no idea men could be so fickle."

  Finally realizing his mistake, Hunter let out an anguished moan. He sat up quickly and handed Alanna her cap. "You must forgive me," he begged. "I didn't see you clearly, and I thought you were Melissa."

  For a few magi
cal moments, Alanna had believed Hunter's enthusiastic affection was real. To learn that they were both victims of a silly mistake filled her with a sickening sense of disappointment. That the love which had flavored Hunter's kiss had been meant for her cousin, hurt far more than what she had interpreted as mere fickleness had.

  "If I'm supposed to be flattered by that, I'm not," she blurted out as she struggled to stuff her hair under her cap.

  Hunter watched her beautiful green eyes fill with tears and gestured helplessly. "What should I have said? Most people say my English is good, but there are times when I choose the wrong words."

  "Or the wrong woman?"

  "Please, don't laugh at me."

  It was Hunter who now looked ready to cry, and Alanna feared she was treating him as badly as Melissa had. "I'm not laughing at you, certainly not. But even if I had been Melissa, you ought not to have grabbed me like that. What if she had come to tell you goodbye and brought Ian with her? At the very least he would have yanked out a handful of your hair, pulling you off her. I shudder to think what he would have done next. It's too dangerous for you here, Hunter. You've got to go."

  They were both kneeling in the straw, but when she made no move to rise, neither did he. As before, her concern seemed real, and he longed to confide in her, to make her understand he had every right to be there, but he hadn't forgotten Melissa's threatened accusation of rape. He had not the slightest doubt that she would tell such a damaging lie either. It would not only be Ian he would have to fight then, but Byron and Elliott as well. If by some miracle he did survive the combined fury of their anger, he knew his claims that Melissa had willingly lain with him would never be believed in court. He did not know what the punishment for rape might be, but he was positive he didn't want to risk finding out.

  "Melissa married the wrong man," he said instead.

  "You were here only a few days in April. How could you have thought she might marry you?"

  Again, Hunter dared not speak the truth, but despite the fact that neither he nor Melissa had made any promises, he had believed in the unspoken vows of her love. Now all Melissa displayed toward him was contempt, but in April, he would have sworn she loved him. He sighed unhappily. "I have money to pay for the bateau. Will you give it to your uncle?"

  "No, you needn't pay for a boat. We have several, and one more or less won't be missed."

  "I forgot how rich you are."

  Alanna recoiled at the resentment in his tone. "My uncle has worked hard for everything he owns, and he's known for his generosity to others. Won't you need some food to take along? Come with me. Let's go to the kitchen and see what provisions we can find."

  "You won't take my money?"

  "No, of course not. You're Byron and Elliott's friend."

  Hunter rose to his feet, and with a graceful tug pulled her up beside him. "Have I ruined things with you, so that we can't be friends?"

  That his passionate kisses had been meant for Melissa no longer seemed important in light of his obvious pain, and she responded with a smile. "Yes, I'd be proud to be your friend. Elliott has nothing but praise for you, and I believe it's well deserved."

  "Byron thinks I have a wild streak, and had he seen us a few minutes ago, he would know he was right."

  He flashed a charming grin but there was definitely a wildness about Hunter that went far beyond his buckskins and long flowing hair. She doubted that white men were such passionate creatures, but that was not a subject she cared to discuss. "Let's get the food I promised," she said instead.

  Amused by her haste to see him gone, Hunter followed her out of the stable. He had not slept more than an hour or two, but he wanted to be on his way, and he would rest later. He went into the house to fetch the things he had left in the room he hadn't used. He could not help but wonder if it was mere coincidence that Melissa and Ian now occupied his former room. Then he realized he was giving Melissa credit for a depth of feeling she did not possess. She had undoubtedly chosen the green room for the beauty of the view, not out of fond memories of him.

  He walked out of the brick mansion and did not look back. When he reached the kitchen, he found Alanna had filled a bag with enough provisions to see him home; he again offered her money, and she again refused. He slung the bag over his shoulder and carried it down with the rest of his belongings to the dock. When Alanna came with him, he knew he ought to do more than thank her for her kindness.

  "I should not have yelled at you yesterday," he began. "I made a great many mistakes here, and I am sorry for the ones that hurt you. You may need to find me someday. If I'm not at William Johnson's trading post on the Mohawk, he will know where to find me."

  Alanna could not imagine such a circumstance arising, but she thanked him anyway. "Melissa and Ian will move into town after their babe is born. If you came back to see Byron and Elliott, you wouldn't have to see her."

  For a fleeting instant, Hunter wondered if she wasn't really asking him to come back to see her. Then he decided such a delusion was absurd. She was merely being kind, and he would expect no more, nor did he want it. The pain of loving one white woman had been more than enough for him. Still, he couldn't resist the impulse to kiss her goodbye. He slid one arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  "This time I know it's you," he whispered before his lips caressed hers, but the sudden jolt of pleasure as she responded warmly made him long for far more. Melissa's betrayal had left him with an aching sense of loss, but he felt only wonder as he finally released Alanna and climbed down into the bateau. She remained on the dock, and he kept looking toward her until she was lost from view. He stopped rowing then and, unable to contain the pain of his shattered dreams and a love that could never be, he let out a mournful cry that was mistaken for the howl of a wolf from the shore.

  He had made another terrible mistake, he realized. He had blamed Melissa for marrying the wrong man, but he now knew he had fallen in love with the wrong woman, so the fault was entirely his. Sick with loneliness, he began to row again, but he could not outdistance the pain.

  Chapter 12

  "What do you mean he's gone?"

  "I'm sorry, Elliott, but Hunter left hours ago." Alanna could see how disappointed her cousin was, but there was little of her last encounter with Hunter that she cared to repeat. Now that she looked back on it, she didn't know where she had found the courage to wake him, but she was glad that she had. Seizing upon what she could confide, she explained she had given the Indian some food and a bateau and seen him on his way.

  Elliott was still perplexed. "I know he meant to stay with us awhile. What could have happened to change his mind? He didn't go straight up to bed when we did last night. Could he have gotten in a fight with someone? Did he have any cuts or bruises?"

  Knowing how uneasy she had felt listening to what had surely been half-truths from Melissa, Alanna couldn't do the same to Elliott. "Please don't share this with anyone, but he was infatuated with Melissa. When he found out she had married Ian, he had no reason to stay."

  "Melissa?" Elliott repeated numbly. "Oh no, Hunter couldn't have become another of her adoring beaus!"

  "Why should he have been different from any other man? Believe me, it happened, but please don't mention anything I've said about Hunter to Melissa or Ian. She's already embarrassed to tears, and it would only make Ian jealous, when there's no need."

  Elliott shoved his hands into his hip pockets. "Damn it all," he mumbled. "Nothing's going right for us. Absolutely nothing."

  Alanna hated to see him so badly discouraged. "You're alive and well, and you've not fallen in love with a woman who's married to someone else, so you've more reason to rejoice than be sad."

  When stated in those terms, Elliott was ashamed of himself. "Guess I did sound pitiful, didn't I?"

  "I've done that, too," Alanna admitted.

  Alanna had always understood him better than anyone else in the family, and Elliott started to hug her, but then suddenly grew shy and settled for just squ
eezing her hand. "Thanks for helping Hunter, but if he's ever here again and wants to just up and leave, come and get me."

  "All right, I will," Alanna promised, but she doubted they would ever see Hunter again.

  * * *

  Hunter sold the bateau in Newport News, and then booked passage to New York on the first ship whose captain did not try to overcharge him simply because he was an Indian and was not expected to know the difference. From there he traveled on a barge up the Hudson River to the junction of the Mohawk. He had been gone from William Johnson's trading post for nearly six months, but the trappers who frequented the place remembered him.

  "We thought you was dead, Indian," one called out.

  "Not yet," Hunter replied. He swiftly discovered being in familiar surroundings wasn't the same as being home. Johnson had work for him organizing the supplies he stocked, but all it required was a strong back, and he completed it in a few hours each morning. He would begin trapping again in the fall, but until then he spent his idle hours building a small long house.

  It was easiest to peel sheets of bark from elm and hickory trees in the spring, but he managed it even in late summer. After he had pounded the bark flat with stones, he tied it to the frame he had constructed of logs and poles. Mud filled any crevices in the bark walls, and hides draped over the ends formed the front and back doors. Poles lashed to the rafters added more than enough storage space for his few belongings. He built platforms along the walls to serve for both seating and beds, while the space underneath provided ample storage for the furs he would gather.

  Once the house was finished, he considered making a trip home to the southern shores of Lake Ontario, but then lacked the enthusiasm to actually go. His father was dead, and his mother had taken a second husband whom he had never liked. Rather than share his dismal view of their stepfather, his two sisters were overly fond of the man. The whole family was content with the old ways, and ridiculed him for learning English and seeking adventure in the white man's world. He knew he ought to go home once in a while, but he had become so uncomfortable around his family, that he decided to avoid them a while longer.