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Alanna was aghast at the doctor's words. "How could you even imagine that my aunt and uncle won't want their daughter's child? They took me in when I was orphaned, and treated me as one of their own."
"You were kin, Alanna."
"Well, so is Christian! Just look at him. He resembles Melissa as closely as he does his father."
Moses regarded the infant with scant interest. "All I see is an Indian's bastard, and that's all anyone else is going to see. If you object to finding him a home with white folks, what about giving him to his father to raise? Indians are far more generous in their views, and won't ridicule him for having white blood. The reverse isn't true."
The thought of handing Melissa's son—or any infant—to Indians to raise was more than Alanna could bear. "That wouldn't please Melissa," she argued.
"Melissa is dead."
"Yes, I know, but it wouldn't be what she would have wanted, had we asked her."
"I saw her only a couple of times in the last few months, and because it was so unlike her, I couldn't help commenting on her nervousness. Now I understand that she had good reason for it. What could she have planned to tell her husband?"
"She didn't take me into her confidence, but I know she had faith in Ian's love. Had the request come from Melissa, I think he would have accepted her child."
"You're dreaming again, Miss Alanna. Captain Scott couldn't be that great a fool."
"Is a man a fool to adore his wife and raise her son as his own?"
"In this case, he certainly would be."
Alanna couldn't agree. "You've a harsh view of the world, Doctor."
"I'll admit it. Comes from watching pretty eighteen-year-olds bleed to death. Such tragedies will harden any man's heart, or drive him mad."
The doctor fell into a sullen silence and didn't speak again until they had reached the outskirts of Williamsburg. Elliott had caught up with them, but he was riding along behind the carriage rather than alongside it, and could not overhear him. "Have you ever wondered why your uncle doesn't own slaves?"
"I've been told that he freed all the plantation's slaves, when my grandfather died."
"That's true, but you don't know why?"
"I believe he objects to slavery on moral grounds."
"Oh, yes, he certainly does, but not for the reason you might believe. Your Uncle John and your father weren't the only children your grandfather sired, but the others were all born in the slaves' quarters. I won't say mixing with slaves isn't a common practice among plantation owners, because it is, but it broke your grandmother's heart, and hastened her death by at least a dozen years."
Alanna felt a sudden chill of apprehension. "Are you saying that my uncle would be unlikely to accept a grandchild with mixed blood?"
Moses nodded. "Not just unlikely, dead set against it is probably closer to the truth."
Stunned by that revelation, Alanna looked down at Christian. Truly she did see the sweetness of Melissa's features, even if he did have Hunter's black hair and golden skin. She patted his bottom lightly. Don't you worry, she assured him silently. Your Cousin Alanna won't abandon you.
* * *
Alanna had expected Charity Wade to be a matronly woman with silver hair and an ample bosom, but she was a thirty-year-old with thick auburn hair and the reed slim figure a lifetime of hard work imparts. Widowed when she was pregnant with her third child, she supported her family by caring for other women's infants. She answered Dr. Earle's questions with intelligent replies; a perceptive person, she noted Alanna's questioning glance.
"I can tell what you're thinking," she confided with a saucy smile, "but a woman doesn't have to have tremendous breasts to nurse, does she, Doctor?"
"No, Mrs. Wade, she doesn't. Now, the lad's not even a day old and without a mother. If you take him in, it might be only temporary, but then again, it might be for some time."
Charity caressed Christian's cheek. "He's as handsome an orphan as I ever did see. It's high time I weaned Jamey, so I can take good care of him. What do you say, Miss Barclay? I understand it's up to you. I'm real fond of this little house, but if you want me to live at your place, I could do it. Provided that you've room for my children, too, of course."
Charity smiled often, and although small, her home was a model of neatness and order. Her children were clean and handsomely dressed, although their garments were far from new. Alanna could find no reason to refuse to hire Charity, and it was obvious she needed the employment as a wet nurse, yet she hated to leave Christian in another woman's care.
She kept him snuggled in her arms as she described his situation. "Quite naturally, Christian's father and grandparents haven't had time to accept his mother's death. Until they do, and can make decisions concerning his welfare, I'd like to leave him with you. I'll want to come visit him often, perhaps every day. I won't be able to leave him here with you, if that's not acceptable."
"My goodness, Miss Barclay, we'll be happy to have you come visit. I love company as much as I love babies. Besides, babies thrive when they have lots of people fussing over them. You come to see him anytime you want. We'll be here."
