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The morning sun streamed through the window and touched Annie’s face. She was warm under a soft quilted cover, but it wasn’t hers. The pillow beneath her head had a familiar scent but it, too, belonged to someone else. Her awakening mind thought, The Navajo build their hogans to face the east. The rising sun must waken them each day.
But it wasn’t a hogan in which she’d slept, though a bearskin rug lay on the floor and the walls were hung with pelts. The room was clad in wood and the ceiling had rough-hewn beams. A peaceful, calming place.
There was that which she didn't want to remember, so she concentrated on the scent of the room. Leather. Tobacco. The dying embers of the fire. And one thing more. She turned into the pillow and breathed into it, felt the warmth, the security it promised. Her heart responded. He will take care of me.
A soft knock on the door. He came in with an armful of wood, leaving the door open behind him. She watched him stir the fire into flame and place the logs upon it. Daniel.
He padded over to her, touched her hair, bent to kiss her cheek. Then he was gone again, the door closing behind his silent steps. He will take care of me.
When she woke again, Annie knew she’d been changed. The first thing she realized was that there was a block before a certain part of her mind. She didn’t question it. Sitting up, she realized she was still in her clothes, though her shoes had been removed. She hunted around, found them under the edge of the bed and put them on, then turned her attention to the room.
It’s neater than my room. Every single thing has its place. Wandering around, she touched the deer pelts that hung on the wall. Softer than she’d imagined. Some had been decorated with beads and silver medallions—Alec’s work. More were rolled lengthwise and stood together in a corner, each tied with a single rawhide thong. He always has a dozen of these laces in his pockets.
She studied the map above the fireplace. The Territory. He claims it as his home. She moved to the desk, brushed her fingers over its polished mahogany surface, found the design for the canyon gates, the plans for indoor plumbing, the sketch for the framework of her cake. He saves everything. Her attention was caught by the shelves above the desk—dozens of books, wooden trains and toys, tools and metal parts of every description. And in the corner, sitting alone, a fat, bedraggled teddy bear with a single eye.
She picked it up, stroked its worn body, carried it to the bed and held it closely against her. Poor little one. Has he been ignoring you? After you have brought him such comfort in the past? Oh, Daniel, I remember the children we were. Life was so very simple then. Why has it changed?
As if she’d conjured him out of thin air, he was again at the door. He left it open but came to sit beside her on the bed. His gentle smile was half-hidden in his mustache as he reached out and touched the head of the bear in her arms. She leaned toward him and he moved closer, drawing her into his arms. She rested her head against his beating heart.
The old voice, cracked and melodious, fluttered into her mind. I am here.
Yes.
He will protect you.
Yes.
Our work is done. She will be well. Do you understand?
Yes.
The pain is over. The guilt is gone. The sorrow will remain for some time. None shall harm her. And none shall harm you, ever. He will protect you. He will be with you for as long as you live. There is nothing to fear. Do you believe?
Yes.
And slowly, the curtain rose. She cringed with the first touch of horror, and trembled there in his arms, but the old voice came again.
It is over. None shall harm her. He will be with you always. Have no fear.
She felt the sorrow well up from her heart and overflow, as the horror that had been so real faded like an early morning fog. As he rocked her in his arms, she became calm once again. But the sadness remained.
He whispered into her hair, “My precious girl. I love you.”
***
WHEN HER FATHER ARRIVED, Annie was sitting with Molly and John Patrick in the back parlor. The fire was burning cheerfully, for the day was gray, windy, and unseasonably cold. Irene had let him in and offered tea, which he gladly accepted.
“Feeling better today?” Owen asked his daughter, although the answer was obvious. Her eyes were shining, her smile bright. She reached for his hand as he sat next to her. There was a peacefulness about her that had been missing for some weeks, and it seemed to Owen she’d regained her usual serenity. He hadn’t realized how much he depended on her composure until it was missing.
At Molly’s invitation, they stayed to lunch. Daniel, Jake and Irene joined them at the table, along with the younger twins and their wives. When they were ready to leave, Daniel walked out with them to the buggy. He had two burlap bags: one held a heated brick he placed at Annie’s feet. The other he laid in her lap. He said not a word, but took her hand and kissed it before tucking the carriage robe in around her, then stood watching as they drove away.
Owen looked over at his daughter, saw the movement of her hands under the robe, struggling with the bag. “Got a present? Is it alive? If it is, I hope it doesn’t eat too much. I’m a poor man, you know.”
She sighed in mock sympathy. “Poor Papa.”
“Nobody gives me presents.”
“You don’t need them. You have me!”
He laughed at that, then still feeling the urge to tease, Owen began to hum. But again she surprised him, as she joined in the song.
I’ve no sheep on the mountains nor boat on the lake,
Nor coin in my coffer to keep me awake;
Nor corn on my garner, nor fruit on my tree,
Yet the Maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
They sang until the cold wind took her breath away. Then he wrapped the robe more closely about her and pulled her in against him. She snuggled up as if she were a child and whispered, “I love you, Papa.”
He put his hand on her hood and turned her face away from the wind. “R’wy’n dy garu di, caraid.”
When he stopped the buggy at their cottage, Owen jumped down and trotted around to help his daughter out. She was tangled in the robe, though, and they had some trouble extricating her. They were laughing at their clumsiness when, behind them, the town erupted.