Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1: COME UP TO MEET YOU
My Dearest Uncas,
I fear I do not have much time to explain. Cora has been watching me like a hawk since our arrival in the New York colony. Those first few days, both her and Nathaniel allowed me to stay next to you as you slept and your body healed. I would read to you from a book I found. Did you hear me? I like to think that you did. When I read, it was as if your whole body relaxed. Nathaniel did not like it. On the sixth day he forced me away from you. He told me Cora needed my help. I did not want to leave your side, but I also did not want to be seen as a burden. I left you to help her. I see now what they had planned.
Cora and Nathaniel are forcing me to return to London. During our fight disagreement, Cora revealed to me the significance of the braid you weaved through my hair. Neither Cora nor Nathaniel believe I am brave or strong enough to be with you. They will not give me the chance to prove to them that my feelings are true, nor that I am capable of what lay ahead should you choose me. I had hoped to find an ally with your father. Alas, he has retreated to the mountains to find herbs to aid in your healing. I leave for port on the morrow and it is doubtful he will return before then. My ship will set sail to London the day after next.
I beg you to forgive me for my forwardness, for there is no time to be subtle: I love you, Uncas. I do not wish to return to London. I wish to stay here in the colonies with you. I want to build a life with you. I believe you feel the same. I know that, together, we can show Cora and Nathaniel that I am worthy of you.
The ship will dock in Boston Harbor before making its final departure to London. I will disembark the ship and wait for you at the Crown Tavern Inn. Please do not rush to come to my side and thus injure yourself further. Cora says you will be fully healed in four weeks. I will wait for you.
Yours in heart,
Alice
TWO YEARS LATER…
Alice Munroe sleepily opened her eyes. Through the curtains, she could see the sun was barely beginning to crest over the trees that surrounded the modest farmstead she called home. The cock crowed three times, his song a gentle reminder that in this new life of hers, there was no lying about until the maid came to fetch her with a warm cup of tea and her day’s dress. It was time to awaken on her own and begin the day in hope that, perhaps just this one time, she would be the first one to the kitchen.
The smell of bacon and tiny feet running towards her bed was a signal that Alice was, once again and no matter how hard she tried, the last to rise.
“Alice!”
Alice barely managed to raise her arms in time to catch the little girl throwing herself atop her bed. She spun her over until she was on her back, Alice leaning over her. The girl giggled delightedly as Alice tickled her cheeks.
“Do you remember what day it is?”
Alice stopped her tickling to bring her finger to her chin. She hummed as she pretended to think.
“I do believe it is Wednesday…”
The girl giggled some more. She began to kick her legs in excitement.
“… and your birthday!”
Rosie Brown clapped her hands together and squealed. Alice laughed at her childlike excitement. She placed a kiss on the tip of Rosie’s freckled nose and climbed out of bed, the young girl following her.
“Do you remember what you promised me?”
Alice looked down to see Rosie’s big blue eyes looking at her like a puppy. Her golden curls, a Brown family trait in all but one of the children, cascaded down her back in a mess of tangles.
“Aye.” Alice said, leaning over to ruffle Rosie’s hair and make it even more of a mess. “I remember.”
Rosie let out a loud whoop as she ran to her and Alice’s shared closet. She took out her favorite dress and began to change out of her nightgown as Alice saw to her morning activities. Alice had never shared a room with anyone else in her life. Rosie has been the perfect girl to share with, so excited to finally have another girl in their home who wasn’t her mother that she had to be constantly reminded by her parents and older brothers not to smother Alice when she first came to live with them. In truth, Alice hadn’t minded at all when Rosie asked her to read to her, or play with her, or lay in the glass and look for shapes in the clouds with her. In the beginning, it had helped Alice to have someone who needed her and wanted her, while also being a welcome reprieve from Alice’s constant need to prove to those who would never see her again that she was worthy, that she could learn and grow in both knowledge and strength and be a contributing member of a family unit. In the present, Alice found Rosie’s presence a known comfort, something that symbolized her life was now predictable and steady. After a week of not knowing if she would live or die, and three months of waiting for someone that never came, Alice felt it to be a blessing.
Dressed, Alice made her way to the kitchen and smiled. Ingrid was, of course, already in the kitchen, dollops of hot cakes cooking over the fire and a mound of bacon cooling on the dining table. Alice glanced at the bacon with a source of pride. It came from the very first pig she had learned to skin. Though she had thrown up at the very beginning, William had only laughed, clapping her on the back and telling her how he had had the same reaction when his father taught him as a boy, as had Paul and George, the two oldest Brown boys. William had resumed teaching her once she had calmed her stomach with a bit of warm water with lemon, something Ingrid already had waiting for her just in case the ordeal made her sick to her stomach. He was patient with both Alice’s unsure movements and her questions. When she was done, he had patted her on the shoulder and told her how proud he was of her. She had written a letter to Paul that very night, excited to tell him what she had learned. He had written back, saying how excited he was to be home soon and see firsthand this new skill of hers.
Never once did William or Paul say they were surprised that she could do such a thing. Rather, it was as if they had always known and were patiently waiting for her to request their help in teaching her once she had come to a similar conclusion.
“Good morning, love.” Ingrid gave Alice an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “The boys are already out collecting eggs and milking the cows.”
Alice frowned slightly. Those were her morning chores, and she didn’t like that someone else was doing them for her. She opened her mouth to protest, but Ingrid continued to speak before she could say anything.
“Before you go getting yourself in a tizzy saying that you can do the work, I know you can.” Alice blushed to have her ire be so easily figured out by Ingrid. “You are a strong girl, Alice, and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. However, there is a pie to be made and school to be taught. The boys wanted to help.” Ingrid smoothed Alice’s hair with motherly affection. “It is important to make one’s way in the world. It is also important to accept help from time to time. Hm?”
Alice nodded, instantly contrite.
“I don’t want you worrying over them anymore, ya hear? You are my daughter and I won’t have you thinking you aren’t capable.”
“I—I don’t—”
“Of course you do, dear. Why wouldn’t you? William thinks often enough about the man who told him he would never be able to farm having come from Boston. I swear he repeats it to himself every morning and again every night before he goes to bed. Now, I’m not saying it wasn’t a blessing. William’s stubbornness to show that man what’s what is why we are doing so well. Still, I wish he could see that he has nothing to prove anymore.” Ingrid raised her blonde eyebrows. “You understand what I’m saying, don’t you love?”
“I do.”
Ingrid placed her flour covered palms on Alice’s cheeks.
“You’re a good girl, Alice. I am grateful everyday Paul brought you to us, though I wish the circumstances had been different.” She caressed Alice’s cheeks with her thumbs before motioning to the worktable behind her. “Best get to work now and have me stop distracting you. I will never hear the end of it from Rosie if I kept you from making her pie, or the boys if you are even a second late to school.”
Alice kissed Ingrid on the cheek. She had no memories of her own mother, the second wife of Colonel Munroe dying when she was very young. By simply being who she was, Ingrid had filled a role in Alice’s life she had never known she needed. Equal parts comforting and no-nonsense, Ingrid had encouraged Alice to pick herself up by her own bootstraps and keep moving forward no matter how hard the past had been.
Heavy boots and laughter soon filled the kitchen as William, followed by sons George and James, joined them for breakfast. Alice watched from the corner of her eye as George scooped up his wife of twenty years and placed a loving kiss on her lips.
Yes, Alice thought to herself as she forced her mind to not replace the image with something that would never be hers, she must keep moving forward.
XXXXX
“Why do I have to go to school?” Jamie huffed as he kicked a rock with his boot. “I should be staying home with Papa and George to help mend the fence.”
“You’re going to school because your numbers are bad.” Rosie said matter-of-factly as she skipped down the well-trodden path towards the schoolhouse. She stopped suddenly, placing her hands on her hips and peering down her nose at Jamie. “James Brown,” she said in an overly dramatic interpretation of their mothers’ voice and mannerisms, “if you don’t learn your numbers before your twelfth birthday you will bring shame upon his house! Shame!”
Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Mama did not say that.”
Alice sighed. Rosie, while capable of being very sweet, was also very tart, a consequence of having two older brothers who teased her mercilessly. However, unlike Paul and George, Rosie had yet to learn that Jamie did not take well to teasing, no matter how harmless it was meant to be.
“Rosie…” Alice warned.
Rosie’s shoulders drooped as she turned instantly contrite. To her credit, Rosie always felt bad when she realized she had hurt her brothers’ feelings.
“I should have thought first again, huh?”
Alice nodded.
Rosie walked over to Jamie. She flung her arms around his waist and apologized for accidentally hurting his feelings. Jamie quietly thanked her for her apology. The matter settled, at least to Rosie, the young girl commenced skipping down the lane, singing a song she had made up about how the trees in Lexington were the most beautiful trees in all of Massachusetts.
“Jamie?”
Alice placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jamie sniffled as he rubbed his nose with his sleeve.
“I’m not stupid.”
Alice frowned. At eleven, Jamie was by far the most sensitive of the Brown siblings. Paul, the eldest and the same nineteen years as Alice, was genial and carefree. He did his work with a smile on his face and never complained about anything, often making jokes at his own expense and teasing others with no malice behind it. It had taken Alice a few months to get used to his character, as it was something that London society would never have allowed. Once she had taken to him, Alice found herself becoming more relaxed, a bit freer with her words and less worried about what others might have thought.
Having been with her in Boston, and experiencing everything as it happened, Paul had become her biggest supporter, cheering so loudly when she had baked her first pie without burning it that Alice had been sure all of Lexington had heard him. Alice had smiled the entire night and went to bed feeling lighter than she had in months.
George, fifteen years old and the second eldest, was as energetic and friendly as Paul, though more quiet and less boisterous of the two.
“Nobody said you were.”
“I can read!” Jamie whispered defensively. “I can read better than anyone! Even George! I just… I don’t understand numbers. They don’t make sense to me like letters and words do.”
Alice knelt next to Jamie. “Numbers can be difficult, can’t they?”
Jamie nodded his head glumly.
“I will make you a promise. How about you stay a while after school? I have it on good authority that your teacher would be willing to stay and tutor you.”
Jamie looked at her though his dark, thick lashes. Like his disposition, Jamie also looked like his siblings the least. While the rest of the Brown children had their mother’s golden hair and blue eyes, Jamie’s eyes were a dark brown, his hair the color to match and pin straight. He was the perfect picture of William Brown. The only thing he shared with Ingrid and his siblings was the freckles across his cheeks and nose.
“The schoolteacher is pretty nice.”
“You think so?”
Jamie threw his arms around her and squeezed tight.
“I do.”
XXXXX
Alice hummed absent mindedly as she swept the floor of the Lexington school house. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would become a teacher, nor did she think she would like it as much as she did. When she had ridden with Paul to Lexington, her stomach in knots and thinking that nobody would ever see the potential within her, she was sure her letter of recommendation would be tossed to the side. Not only had she been accepted, but Alice had practically been hired on the spot. The farming towns schoolteacher was with child and would be giving birth within six months. She found Alice to be intelligent (she was, after all, privately tutored by London’s best) and patient, a skill that would come in most handy when teaching children of different ages and skill levels. It had also helped that Alice’s letter of recommendation had been written by one of Boston’s most notable families. While Alice had not wanted to leave them, her time as a governess the only thing in Boston that had given Alice a modicum of happiness, her employer had agreed with Paul’s sentiment that in order to heal, Alice needed to leave Boston and live in a place that held no memories of her past and the people who had hurt her.
“I’m done, Miss Alice.”
Alice smiled affectionately as Jamie called her by what Rosie referred to as her ‘teacher name’. She looked over Jaime’s board. Multiplication was very difficult for Jamie, and multiplication by six was proving to be exceptionally so. There were a few mistakes towards the end, and Alice made sure to praise him for his improvements before discussing where he went wrong and how to correct his mistakes for tomorrow. His whole face lit up when Alice told him he could take a piece of peppermint candy from the jar on her desk.
Thunder clapped ominously overhead as Alice locked up the school for the day. A shiver ran down her spine, the sky above them an ominous dark gray.
No matter how much time had passed, her fear of thunderstorms had not diminished.
“Do you think we will be able to make it home before the rain starts?” Jamie asked as the two of them headed down the steps, Rosie having already walked home with her friends at the end of the school day.
“I hope so.” Alice held out her hand for Jamie. It was shaking slightly. “Will you help me be brave?”
Jamie nodded very seriously before taking her hand. Though Alice had tried to hide her fear when she first began to live with the Brown’s, it had all been for naught. One night, after five weeks of staying with them, Alice had gone to bed hearing thunder. Hiding under the blankets as if she was a child, she prayed to fall asleep quickly and to see no faces in her dreams. She awoke an hour later to the sounds of her own screams.
Her pleas had not been heard.
A pair of warm arms enveloped her almost immediately. It was Paul. He knew the story she had yet to share with his family and knew why Alice was frightened. He stroked her hair and promised her she was safe and that no harm would ever come to her here. Alice had held on to him tightly as she cried. When the storm was over, the entire family was with her and stayed with her until she was able to fall asleep once more. Rosie had crawled into bed with her to hold her close and sweet Jamie had given her a stuffed toy dog that he still slept with, declaring it would keep her bad dreams away. No member of the family ever asked her any questions, though Alice could see in their eyes how they wanted to know what ailed her so they could be of assistance when Paul was away. Shoulders back, and with a steady voice, Alice told them the following morning what had happened to her that fateful day when she and Cora left Albany.
She never mentioned his name, only referring to him as ‘Nathaniel’s brother’. She had promised herself on the road to Lexington she would never say it again.
“It will be okay Alice.” Jamie soothed as another sound of thunder echoed all around them. Fat rain drops began to fall from the heavy clouds. “If you want, we can splash in the puddles. I won’t tell Mama.” He pulled Alice down until her ear was close to his mouth. “I promise.”
Alice smiled despite herself. Jamie truly was a sweet and tender boy.
“How about we sing a song instead, hm?”
Jamie nodded. He opened his mouth and began to sing a tavern song Paul had taught him, much to the amusement of both William and Ingrid. Alice laughed and began to sing along. Taking the hand he was not holding, Jamie spun her around twice before clapping his hands together and doing it once more. Every spin and clap and occasional skip brought them both further down the lane and closer to home. Jaime stopped dancing once they were a quarter of the way home, declaring it time for another game. He lunged forward with both hands, touched her waist, then took off running, declaring that Alice would never catch him.
A small cry left her lips as the curved root of a tree, growing up from the dirt, caught her toe as she ran after Jamie. Alice’s lunch pail went flying as she fell onto the muddy forest floor. She winced in pain upon realization that her body had fallen in the opposite direction of her caught foot.
“Alice!” Jamie screamed. He ran towards her as fast as he could, breathing heavily as he knelt. “I am so sorry! I shouldn’t have run away like that. I’m—”
Alice gently shushed Jamie. “I am alright.”
“Promise?” Jamie’s large brown eyes shined with tears and his lower lip trembled.
“I promise.” Alice confirmed, smiling through the pain as she disengaged her foot from the tree branch and tried to stand.
Her ankle screamed in protest.
Bitting her leap to keep herself from crying out and thus causing Jamie more worry, Alice gently sat back down in the mud and leaves.
“My ankle is sprained.” She said bluntly. Alice had learned quickly that when it came to the life of the homesteader, one did not mince words when it came to injury.
Jamie’s face fell.
“Do not worry, I will heal quickly.” Alice hurried to explain before Jamie could apologize again. Jamie had been so kind keeping Alice’s thoughts away from her fears; she would not allow him to chastise himself for a simple accident. “I do not think I will be able to walk home without help, though.”
“Should I run home and fetch Papa and George?”
Alice shook her head. They had not been walking home for very long. They were closer to town than they were to the farm.
“Run back to town and go to Buckman Tavern. One of Paul’s friends should be there. Tell them what happened. They will come and help me.”
“Will you need a horse?”
“No. I think if I have something to lean on, I can manage that rest of the walk home. Besides,” Alice stifled a shudder as another round of thunder sounded over the rain, “the weather will spook them.”
Jamie hugged Alice tightly. He took off running in the direction they had come from, promising he would be back soon and that if she got scared, to sing the tavern song again and think of how delicious her cherry pie was going to taste after dinner.
XXXX
Alice sat with her knees against her chest, her arms clutched tightly around them. Jamie and been gone all of five minutes and it felt like an eternity. She closed her eyes in fright as thunder echoed through the forest. Her clothes hung heavily against her body. Her only luck was that it was daytime, and though it was cloudy, she could still see through the forest.
Alice had not always been afraid of thunder and rainstorms. When she was a young girl, she had found them fascinating. Her governess had to beg her to come inside and stay away from the windows when all Alice had wanted to do was watch them form and feel the thunder reverberate in her ribs. There was something magical and romantic about it all. Alice would make up stories in her mind about the maiden stuck in the storm and the knight who would save her, or of the father and mother saving their lost children before a wild animal could claim them.
Now, whenever Alice heard thunder and rain, it wasn’t stories of people doing heroic deeds that filled her thoughts. Like a play happening before her, she would see Chingachgook, Nathaniel, and his brother, standing behind a waterfall, telling them that they must leave their little group in the hopes it would protect them. She saw Nathaniel promising to find Cora, not Cora and Alice, just Cora. He never once looked to or tried to comfort Alice, though she was terrified. She saw Magua and his men coming through the water, killing the poor young soldier with them and throwing Duncan to the ground. She saw rough hands grabbing her and tying her hands together. She saw herself climbing up a steep rockface, terrified that no one would ever come to save her, while also hating herself for being so scared and useless. She saw Un—
Alice closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The thunder and rain never showed her strong, lithe arms surrounding her, cradling her and promising to protect her, nor did it allow her to see nimble fingers separating her hair into three strands and creating the most simple and beautiful braid Alice had ever worn. It never showed those moments to her because Alice would not allow it to. In some twisted way, the fear hurt her less than the pain.
Resting her head against her arms, Alice opened her mouth and began to sing.
Come haste to the wedding ye friends and ye neighbors,
The lovers their bliss can no longer delay.
Forget all your sorrows your cares and your labors,
And let every heart beat with rapture today.
Come, come one and all, attend to my call,
And revel in pleasures that never can cloy.
Come see rural felicity,
Which love and innocence ever enjoy.
It was the first song Paul had ever taught her. He would sing it while he planted a flower garden for her, and then again when he taught her how to keep it. Alice knew he sang it because it was a merry tune, and because he hoped it would help her believe that one day, she would be the girl in the song and marry someone who never once thought her unworthy and incapable.
It had never worked.
Alice hated that song more than any other song Paul would sing.
Though Alice never allowed herself so much as a fleeting moment of daydreams once she boarded Paul’s wagon and left Boston behind her, this song always made her think of him, of the way he looked at her and held her and protected her and came for her when all hope was lost. How she had believed he would come for her again, only for her to be met with bitter disappointment and finality. It never made her think of anyone else; only him.
Alice had loved him.
He had not loved her.
Let envy, let pride, let hate and ambition,
Still crowd to and beat at the breast of the great
To such wretched passions we give no admission,
But leave them alone to the wise ones of state,
We boast of no wealth, but contentment and health,
In mirth and in friends, our moments employ
Come see rural felicity,
Which love and innocence ever enjoy.
Alice could not stop herself. With each word, she pretended that he was next to her, holding her and keeping her safe from the storm. Even when she hated him, even when she had done so much to prove to everyone that she could do what they thought her too delicate for, she still wanted him with her.
With reason we taste of each heart stirring pleasure,
With reason we drink of the full flowing bowl,
Are jocund and gay, but ‘tis all within measure,
For fatal excess will enslave the free soul,
Then come at our bidding to this happy wedding,
No care shall obtrude here, our bliss to annoy
Come see rural felicity,
Which love and innocence ever enjoy.
XXXXX
“Alice?”
Small hands jostled Alice’s exhausted body.
“Alice!”
Alice opened her eyes and slowly lifted her head. Sometime during her third song (she had only allowed herself one love song before sternly reminding herself she did not need to rely on old memories for comfort) she had fallen into a blissfully dreamless sleep. During that time, the thunder had stopped. While it was still raining heavily, and Alice suspected they had yet to see the last of the thunder, she was grateful it had at least ceased during her time alone.
“You’re alright!”
Jaime’s face was mere inches from her own. His cheeks were red and he was breathing heavily from exertion. The right side of his body and face were covered in mud. Alice guessed he must have fallen while finding help. His dark hair was soaked and clung to his forehead, ears, and neck.
“I found someone! He was already on the path and headed our way. When I told him my sister was hurt, he said he would help us. I told him how scared you are of the thunder, and he ran with me all the way here.” Jamie’s entire face lit up with a proud smile. “I know you said to ask one of Paul’s friends, but I was worried about you here alone and with no one to help you be brave. I did well, didn’t I?”
Alice smoothed Jamie’s hair off his forehead.
“You did very well, Sir Jamie.”
Jamie giggled at the nickname she had given him. Like Alice had as a young girl, Jamie loved reading stories of adventures and battles in faraway places. Alice had made up one such story just for him one night while they were stargazing. It was about a strong and brave knight named Sir Jamie who had fought a dragon in a faraway land and saved his country’s stolen king. Jamie had looked at her with awe and reverence as she told it. The evening happened before Alice could bake, or collect eggs, or clean laundry; she had nothing to offer Jamie but her imagination, and it had been enough. Paul, ever her watchful shadow those first few months, had been quick to tell her that those who did not see what she could already offer had been fools.
Alice looked past Jamie to find her momentary savior. He had been standing directly behind Jamie, and her neck protested at looking upwards too quickly. Her eyes saw his feet first, and they widened in surprise to find the man wearing moccasins. While there were natives who lived around Lexington, and even a woman who had married a white man living on a farm close to the Brown’s, Alice didn’t think she had ever seen any Indians using the tail that connected the town to the northern farms. It was curious, but not enough to give Alice pause, until her eyes continued upward and saw the man’s left wrist. There, between the thin gold bracelets that adorned his arm, was a bracelet made of white ribbon, brown leather, and purple cloth braided together.
“Alice.”
Her traitorous heart fluttered at the sound of her name.
His voice had not changed at all.
Alice turned her head (and gaze) away from the man and squared her shoulders.
“I thank you for your help, sir, but I believe my ankle has already healed. I am no longer in need of your assistance. Good day to you.”
Jamie positioned himself in front of her eyesight once more. His brow furrowed as he looked from Alice’s defiant jaw to her ankle, to the man who was already bending down and reaching out to—
Alice forced herself to stand before the man could help her.
“As you can see, sir, I am quite alright. I thank you for your offer.” Alice gave the man a crude bow, a result of both angling her body away from and because she still could not put any weight on her ankle without it shooting pain into her toes. “Come along, Jamie.”
Jamie, completely confused and not understanding what was happening around him, hesitated to take her proffered hand.
“But you said—”
Alice stubbornly took one step forward.
It was a mistake.
Her ankle, unable to bend or hold any weight, gave out beneath her at the same time thunder cracked overhead.
Alice knew what would happen next. It had always happened, until the one time it didn’t, causing the world to come crumbling down around her and leaving her to mend the pieces on her own.
“I’m here.” His voice whispered into her hair as he cradled her in his arms and against his chest. “I’ve got you.”
Uncas