Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (66 page)

The more he thought about their visit home before joining Washington's troops, the more probable Hunter's story became.

He wished he could seek Elliott's counsel, but lacking that, he had Alanna's. She had been devoted to Melissa, and her marriage to Hunter proved she harbored no ill will where he was concerned.

Byron propped himself on his elbow, and had to force back a nauseating wave of pain. It had been so easy to hate Hunter, and yet clearly Hunter did not hate him, for he was fully capable of giving him a beating that would have left him badly scarred and perhaps crippled for life. Savage or not, Hunter was a remarkable man, and when he returned with jerky and biscuits for their breakfast, Byron found it difficult to discuss what was on his mind. Instead, he ate what he could, slept a while longer, and then, with Hunter's help, managed to walk the few miles those straggling behind with the wounded made that day.

It wasn't until Hunter had bid him good night the next evening, that he finally managed to speak what was on his mind. They were again in a secluded spot where their conversation would not be overheard. "I've been thinking," he began slowly. "Remembering. I'll need more time, but I've been considering what you've told me. I'm not saying that I believe it, but only that it's possible."

Hunter eased himself down into the grass. "Thank you, but it's Alanna and my son I'm worried about. They're part of your family, but your parents have turned against them. That's an awful thing to do to someone as dear as Alanna, or to an innocent babe."

That Hunter was more concerned about his wife and child than himself is what impressed Byron most. "I'll do what I can," he promised. "My father can be very stubborn, and my mother seldom crosses him, so it may take me years to affect a reconciliation, but I'll do my best. I owe you that much for saving my life."

"You're no longer angry with me for that?"

"I heard George Washington lost two mounts and had his clothes ripped by four bullets, without receiving a scratch. I'm not nearly that lucky. Maybe I would have survived without your damned interference, but most likely I would have died. Thank God that in all the smoke and confusion no one missed me. I'd surely have been charged with desertion, if they had."

"No, I would have taken the blame for your absence," Hunter assured him, "and because I'm only a scout, not a soldier, they would have had no way to punish me. Besides, I didn't desert, I fought the whole time. It just wasn't out in the open as Braddock demanded."

"That's why he's dead and you're alive."

"Whatever the reason, I'm alive to return home, and I don't want you to hate me."

Byron was silent for such a long time, Hunter thought he might have fallen asleep, but finally the Virginian spoke. "I'll always miss Melissa, and be sorry for the agonizing way she died, but I no longer hate you. But if you ever disappoint Alanna, you can expect to have to answer to me."

Thinking that was as generous as Byron was likely to get, Hunter did not take offense at his threat. "I'm a very good husband," he assured him. "Alanna will never have any complaints."

Considering his shy cousin, and a man he thought more than a little arrogant, Byron shook his head. "Lordy, what a pair you must be."

Hunter smiled to himself. "Yes, we are."

* * *

Anxious to see his son when he reached Williamsburg, Hunter's first stop was at Charity Wade's. When he found the yard overgrown with weeds and the house vacant, he panicked. Leading Marshal, he hurried next door to ask where Charity had gone, but the residents were so alarmed by the sight of an Indian on the front porch, they refused to answer the door. Frustrated, he tried another house, and then another, until he found a soul brave enough to talk with him.

"Charity moved away a couple of months ago," the old gentleman replied. "In June I think it was, but it might have been May. No, wait a minute, it was in May, early May. I remember because—"

Hunter could not help interrupting rudely. "Please, do you know where she went?"

"Over on Francis Street," the elderly man said. "Haven't been over there myself, so I can't tell you where, but I heard it was a nice house."

"Thank you." Rather than chase up and down the length of Francis Street searching for his son, Hunter next tried Randolph's home.

Mrs. Newcombe peered out the window, recognized Hunter, and opened the door. "Good afternoon, sir. Mr. O'Neil's still at his shop. Would you like to leave a message?"

"No, I'm looking for my wife. Isn't she here?"

"Oh, no, sir, she hasn't lived here in months. She and Mrs. Wade are sharing a place over on Francis Street."

"Can you tell me where?"

Mrs. Newcombe pursed her lips thoughtfully. "No, I've never been there myself. But wait a minute, Stanley must know. He's in the stable."

Again eager for more information, Hunter rode Marshal around to the rear of the house. He called out Stanley's name, and he soon appeared.

"Well, now, I'm real glad to see you. From what the
Virginia Gazette
printed about Braddock's campaign, we didn't know if any of you were alive."

"A few of us are. Mrs. Newcombe said you could tell me where Alanna's living."

Stanley nodded. "Sure can. It's over on Francis Street."

Hunter was fast losing his patience.
"Where
on Francis Street?"

"It's right toward the end, down by the Capitol. Pretty white house with blue shutters. You'll find it easy enough."

Hunter turned Marshal toward the gate, urged the horse to a gallop, made his way to Francis Street, and raced to the end. He found a white house with blue shutters and, hoping it was the right one, he tied Marshal out front and knocked
on the door. When Charity answered, Hunter put his finger to his lips.

"Is Alanna here?" he whispered.

"Yes, but there's no need to whisper," she replied. "She and Christian are out in the backyard. Here, come through the house."

Hunter had rehearsed what he wanted to say the whole way home, but the instant he saw Alanna and Christian, he doubted he could utter a word, let alone a memorized speech. His son was toddling along beside Alanna, gripping her skirt for support, but walking just the same. Alanna was showing him the garden, bending and pointing as she called out the names of the vegetables they had planted. She hadn't noticed Hunter, but he had a clear view of her. After four months, her figure was as slim as when he had left her. He would have to try again to give her a child; eager to try, he broke into a wide grin.

Taking care to avoid being seen, he approached his wife and child with a hunter's stealth, until he was close enough to scoop up the little boy and swing him high into the air. Thrilled by the unexpected ride, Christian squealed in delight, while Alanna whipped around to confront him.

"Hunter!" she gasped.

Hunter shifted Christian to the crook of his right arm, and hugged Alanna with his left. He kissed her soundly and laughed at her dismay. "I promised to come back to you. Why are you so surprised?"

Alanna reached up to caress his cheek, satisfying herself that he was unchanged. "I'd almost forgotten how handsome you are."

"Then I have returned just in time."

"What about Byron? The
Gazette
had the most awful description of the battle, and I've been so terribly worried about you both;"

"Byron is on his way out to the plantation. We're both safe," he told her, taking no credit for the excellence of Byron's health. Christian had begun to yank on his hair, and Hunter caught his tiny hand and placed a kiss in his palm. "He'll say only good things about us to your aunt and uncle, but he has scant hope that they'll ever want to see us."

Understanding Byron's skepticism had good cause, Alanna continued to sweep Hunter with a hungry gaze. She had spent every minute he had been gone loving him, and yet fearing his return. "There's been a good deal of gossip. I was even referred to as Randolph's mistress for a while. He visits us every day, but it's Charity he comes to see, not me."

"Really? Well, he was lonely, so a pretty woman with a houseful of children ought to be perfect for him."

"She has only three children," Alanna reminded him. "That's not a houseful."

Her expression was troubled, rather than filled with the joy Hunter had expected to see, and he gestured toward the grass. "Come sit down with me." He led the way, and set Christian on his feet before he chose a place to sit. The little boy grabbed the fringe on his shirt and made his way around him. "Is he this friendly with everyone?" Hunter asked.

"Charity and her children, Randolph, you and me, we're the only people he knows, but he's not in the least bit bashful with us."

Hunter tousled Christian's hair as he toddled by, and the little boy's giggle made him laugh. "He seems like a very happy child."

"Yes, I hope so."

"And you? Have you been happy, too?"

Alanna shook her head. "Without you? No."

Hunter reached for her hand. "I've not been happy without you either. Is there room for me to live here with you?"

Perplexed by his question, Alanna didn't know how to answer. "Do you want to live here with us?"

"Only until the boy is old enough to be weaned. I won't leave here without him."

Alanna's eyes began to fill with tears. "Have you changed your mind?" she asked. "You no longer want to give him away?"

Hunter had never seen Alanna cry, not when Elliott had been killed, or they had almost died fighting the Abenaki, or even when she had told him goodbye. That she would cry now made no sense at all to him. "How I came to my decision is a long story that I'll tell you at another time, but yes, I want us to raise Christian. I want him to be our son, yours and mine."

Tears continued to well up in Alanna's eyes and began to trickle slowly down her cheeks. She caught Christian and made him a part of the hug she gave her husband. "I love you so much," she vowed.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry. I can't help it."

With the joy of holding his wife and baby in his arms, Hunter was on the verge of tears himself. Christian began to squirm, and they let him go to continue circling them with unsteady steps. That Hunter had once hated Melissa enough to reject her son now seemed like the worst mistake of his life, and he was relieved he had come to his senses in time to make his family whole.

"Isn't Christian ready for a nap?" Hunter asked his wife.

"Soon, and the harder he plays, the longer he sleeps."

With that inspiration, Hunter saw that his little boy had a very good time indeed. Then he and his bride celebrated his homecoming with a passion flavored with warm kisses and husky laughter that lasted the whole afternoon. War with France was still on the horizon, and troubled times lay ahead, but for them, the battles were over, and all three of them had won.

The End

Want more from Phoebe Conn?

Page forward for an Author's Note

followed by an excerpt from

DEFIANT DESTINY

The Hearts of Liberty Series

Book Two

Author's Note

The French and Indian War extended from 1754 to 1763. During this time France and Great Britain battled not only for possession of the Ohio Valley, but also for control of America, India, and the high seas. George Washington's skirmish at Great Meadows marked the beginning of the war. While Hunter, Byron, and Elliott Barclay are fictional characters, the conflicts described in this book were actual historical events. Like George Washington, many of the historical figures who gained prominence during the French and Indian War went on to greater fame during the American Revolution.