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ready to eat."
    Even knowing that Hunter was down at the dock rather than waiting in the house, Alanna had never felt less like eating, and she remained right where she was.

 
     
     
    Chapter 3

     
    A perceptive person, Polly McBride noted Alanna's reluctance to follow Melissa and easily guessed why. A tall, buxom woman, who handled all her chores at a careful, deliberate pace, in both appearance and manner she was completely at odds with Hunter's mental image of a female cook. She had been with the Barclays twenty years, and was a warm and sympathetic friend to them all.
    "It ain't right having an Indian here," she mumbled loudly enough for the pensive young woman to overhear.
    "He's a talented scout," Alanna responded.
    "His talents don't matter," Polly argued. "He ought not to have been invited here. It was Indians who left you an orphan."
    Alanna argued without enthusiasm. "It wasn't his tribe."
    "Indians is Indians, Miss Alanna," the cook swore.
    And Melissa was Melissa, Alanna thought to herself, which was an even more terrifying thought. If Melissa had foolishly encouraged Hunter's attentions, she was toying with his emotions when she could not possibly accurately predict his reaction. Her cousin was not merely being incredibly stupid, she was creating a situation which could easily have disastrous consequences for them all.
    Byron and Elliott's arrival brought an end to Alanna's preoccupied mood. She returned their waves, and they drew to a halt just outside the kitchen door. "Did Melissa and Hunter get home all right?" Elliott called out.
    Alanna was uncertain just how such an ambiguous question ought to be answered, but after a moment's hesitation offered a response that supplied the truth, if perhaps not all of it. "Yes, they're here. Hunter said he'd be down at the dock, if you need him."
    Elliott turned to his older brother. "You see, there was no reason to leave the Raleigh so soon. I told you they'd be fine."
    A surly frown was Byron's only reply, and when he rode on toward the barn, Elliott urged his mount to follow. Alanna knew they trusted her, and while she had not lied to them, she had certainly hidden her feelings. She was deeply distressed not only by her suspicions, but also by her inability to confide in the two young men. Not wanting company, she wandered around to the flower garden on the west side of the house, rather than her usual spot by the well. She waited on a bench there until she was certain the midday meal had been eaten, and Melissa would have gone upstairs to their room to rest.
    Hoping to make Melissa see the danger in continuing a flirtation with Hunter, Alanna then slipped in the backdoor and hurried up to their room. She had minimal experience with young men compared to Melissa, but what she did know made it impossible for her to keep still. "So that I won't misunderstand," she began tactfully, "would you please tell me what happened between you and Hunter this morning?"
    Melissa had been sorting through her handkerchiefs before adding her latest purchases to her collection. Interpreting Alanna's genuine concern as nothing more than blatant prying, she paused to control her temper before looking up. "You have a wonderfully creative imagination, but it's led you astray this time," she countered with sweetly laced sarcasm. "Hunter and I are no more than friends."
    "Do you roll around in the grass with all your friends?"
    Shocked by the accuracy of her cousin's accusation, Melissa instantly grew indignant. "We did no such thing," she denied sharply. "How could you even suggest that I would stoop to cavorting with an Indian brave in such a shameful fashion?"
    Alanna merely shrugged. "Tell me what you did do then."
    "I already have. We rode home together. There's nothing more to tell. If I picked up a blade of grass on the way, it was undoubtedly blowing in the wind."
    "There's no breeze today."
    Totally losing patience with her inquisitive cousin, Melissa plunked her new handkerchiefs