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.
"Run!" he called out to her. "Get away!"
Hunter fought on, despite the agonizing pain in his leg that made it increasingly difficult for him to maintain his balance. Through pure force of will he was relentless in his attack, striking out with a furious determination that forced his opponent to constantly back away. Then, feigning weakness, he lured the man in close, and with a swift upward thrust, drove his knife deep into his chest. His heart pierced, when Hunter withdrew his blade, the Abenaki slumped to the ground dead.
Before Hunter could catch his breath, Alanna shouted a warning, and he turned to find Blind Snake not only on his feet, but again holding his musket trained on Hunter's chest. In the next instant, the sound of gunfire echoed all around, and he looked down, expecting the front of his shirt to be awash in gore, but it was stained only by a small splattering of his foe's blood. It was Alanna who had fired, not Blind Snake, and her aim had been as good as any of the militiamen who had battled the French in the Ohio Valley.
Shuddering with revulsion and disgust, Alanna dropped the musket and came toward Hunter. "You're losing a lot of blood. Sit down, and I'll do what I can for your leg."
Hunter glanced toward the Indian she had stabbed. He had fallen silent, and the utter stillness of his pose proved he no longer clung to life. Hit from close range, Blind Snake would never draw another breath, nor would the man Hunter had fought hand to hand. They had turned an ambush into a stunning rout, but that Alanna could take credit for two of the three kills, robbed Hunter of any sense of satisfaction.