Elliott stepped forward to offer his clean handkerchief. "Here, use this."
Alanna dropped Peter's soiled handkerchief and dipped Elliott's into the rainwater. After wringing it out, she knelt beside Hunter and held it against his brow. "You should probably have stitches."
Hunter replied with a distracted grunt.
"I suppose you think gruesome scars are handsome?"
She was only inches away, and when Hunter looked up at her, the concern mirrored in her beautiful green eyes surprised him. "You should have been the one to write," he said again.
"She had better things to do with her time," Elliott answered for her.
"Just you hush, Elliott," Alanna scolded.
"Can't you see what he's doing?" Elliott chided. "He's not content to have ruined Melissa's life. Now he's trying to do the same thing to you."
Unwilling to believe Hunter would ever consider seducing her, even if he felt up to it, which she doubted, Alanna rose, rinsed out the handkerchief, and used it to wipe the blood from Hunter's face. This time she took great care to concentrate on her task without really looking at him, but touching him brought a flush to her cheeks that wasn't due to embarrassment. His skin was warm, and his blood was as red as Melissa's. With that realization, his face began to swim before her eyes.
"I'm afraid I can't do this," she whispered, but before she could hand the handkerchief to Hunter, she fainted across his lap.
"Now look what you've done!" Elliott cried. He knelt beside Hunter, meaning to take Alanna from his arms, but the Indian pulled her into a tight embrace. "Let me have her," Elliott demanded. "I'll take her inside where
she can lie down."
"No, she's better off out here in the air."
Thinking that might be true, Elliott still had an objection. "Well, it's certainly not going to help her any to wake up and get another look at you. Had someone split your head with an ax, I doubt you'd look worse."
Hunter handed Elliott the damp handkerchief. "Then rinse this out, and I'll take care of myself."
"She's my woman. You understand that?"
"I once asked Melissa if you two were in love. She said no."
"Well that was another of her mistakes, because we are." Elliott grabbed the handkerchief, decided it was beyond rinsing, and went inside the long house to fetch another from his valise.
Left alone with Alanna, if only for a few seconds, Hunter leaned down to kiss her lips lightly. Thinking it might be the only opportunity he would ever have to take such a liberty, he quickly kissed her again, but when Elliott returned, he was staring off into the forest, rather than gazing at the beautiful young woman in his arms.
Chapter 17
As the smoky haze of unconsciousness began to lighten, Alanna gradually became aware of the tangy scent of pine filling the air, and then the high-pitched chatter of squirrels dashing from tree to tree in an endless game of tag. In a soothing contrast to their raucous rhythm, she felt the slow, steady beat of Hunter's heart through his soft buckskin shirt.
How had she come to be in his arms? she wondered. That was the last place she belonged, but his easy embrace was so comfortable, she continued to lie still. He was tracing gentle circles across her back, which felt too good to end; and she was also far more tired than she had thought.
Hunter saw Alanna's eyelashes flutter slightly, but made no move to shake her awake. He had not held a woman in a long time, and she felt too warm and sweet to release until he absolutely had to. Elliott was talking about the need for him to relinquish all claim to his son, but he was only half-listening.
After months of striving to banish any thought of the Barclays from his mind, he had been badly startled by the sudden arrival of two of them, and most especially these two. The news of Melissa's death had awakened painful memories, and to talk of a son he would never see was nearly unbearable. He allowed none of his anguish to show in his face, but he felt every bit of it deeply.
When Hunter began to caress her nape lightly with his fingertips, Alanna opened her eyes. Not because his touch didn't feel wonderful, it did, but she did not want to give him the impression that once awake she would welcome more of his affection. Obviously aware that she had been feigning unconsciousness for several minutes, he responded with an amused grin. Aghast that he would surely think she had been enjoying his caress, she struggled to sit up without touching him, but it was impossible not to rest her hands on his broad chest. When their eyes met, she saw something more than the hint of laughter in his dark gaze and, unwilling to explore just what it might be, she took Elliott's hand when he offered it.
Once on her feet, Alanna struggled to gather her composure. She pulled her cap back into place and adjusted the folds of her gown. It was a simple gray dress designed for traveling, but not for reclining in the dirt, and she quickly brushed away the leaves and soil that clung to her skirt. When she had run out of ways to primp, she spoke to her cousin rather than the handsome Indian who was still seated on the ground.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."
"You needn't apologize," Hunter assured her. "I'm not fond of the sight of blood either, especially when it's mine."
Still nonplussed, Alanna again turned to Elliott. "Where were we?"
Elliott relayed only what suited him. "You were scolding us both for behaving badly, but I'll put our argument aside if Hunter will." When Hunter nodded slightly, he continued. "Not knowing what would be available here, I brought writing materials. I think we can come up with a satisfactory statement in a few minutes time. After it's signed, Alanna and I will go back to the barge to be ready for the return trip to New York tomorrow."