"Why should I be grateful?"
"Sometimes I don't even know why I bother to talk to you. You can be nice one moment, and so nasty the next, I'm sorry we're even acquainted. I had to sacrifice part of my lingerie, because I didn't have anything else to use as a bandage. Next time you're stabbed, try and have something suitable with you, so you won't insult the person who saves your life with ridiculous complaints!"
Infuriated with him, Alanna got up and walked off into the shady enclosure where she had left her dress. When she didn't return within a few minutes, Hunter began to worry. He called her name, but there was no response. She hadn't left him when their lives were threatened, so he doubted she would leave him now, but he did not enjoy being ignored. He propped himself up on one elbow and, expecting to see the clearing littered with bodies, he was amazed to find the natural setting unspoiled by any such grisly scenes.
"Alanna!" he shouted this time. "Where are the bodies?"
Alanna finished buttoning up her bodice, but didn't bother with her stockings and boots before she reappeared. She walked up to Hunter and, still feeling tired, sat down a few feet away. Because they had only each other for company, and she wanted to get along, she considered his change of subject an apology, and let their argument drop.
"I took care of them." When he looked astonished by that feat, she explained exactly how she had gone about it.
He was relieved the bodies were gone, and didn't comment on the way she had disposed of them, but he was nevertheless amazed that she had been calm enough to be so resourceful. He had not expected such bravery from her. "I still don't understand how you found the courage to risk death by joining my fight, rather than saving yourself. Even after the Abenaki had seen you, you could have gotten away."
Perplexed that he didn't understand her motives, Alanna tried not to insult him with her reply. "I know you and I aren't really friends, but how can you even imagine that I'd abandon you?"
Not as concerned with protecting her feelings as she was with his, Hunter responded with a rueful laugh. "Experience has taught me not to trust white women."
The Sacandaga presented a far more appealing sight than her obstinate companion's sly smirk, and Alanna glanced toward the lake, as she replied, "
I didn't confuse you with Blind Snake. Why are you blaming me for Melissa's faults?"
Conceding her point, Hunter nodded. "You are nothing like your cousin, are you?"
"She's dead. Whatever quarrel you had with her is over."
Just talking had again made Hunter feel ill, or perhaps it was the distasteful subject. He closed his eyes and sighed softly.
"Hunter?"
"I'm tired."
"Rest then."
Her voice held the sweet serenity of a benediction encouraging a lengthy nap, and when Hunter next awakened, it was late afternoon. He felt stiff and tried to flex his muscles, only to be rewarded with a fresh burst of pain from his leg. Thirsty, he looked longingly toward the lake, and then called Alanna's name, but produced only a disappointing croak. Fortunately, she had been fishing only a few yards away, and came to his side.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
Hunter could not think of the precise words in English to adequately describe how wretched he felt, but that didn't stop him from trying to communicate his distress. "My leg feels like it's on fire. My whole body hurts from sleeping on this pile of rocks, and I'm thirsty."
Thinking his last complaint the easiest to remedy, Alanna brought him water in her cupped hands. He placed his hands beneath hers as he drank, and eagerly gulped down every drop. She made several trips to the river before he kept hold of her hand to keep her with him.
"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?"