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Early the next morning, Annie returned to the livery with no trace of the headache. She looked down at her father, a smile playing on her lips. Owen was sleeping in the chair, his chin resting against his chest, the top of his bald head looking out at the world like an expressionless face. She shook his arm gently.
“Papa,” she murmured. “Papa, I brought you some coffee.”
“Uh... hmmm?”
“I brought you some coffee.”
“Hmm. Good girl.” He stood, stretched and groaned, held out a hand for the cup. The fire in the forge had died down to embers and it was cold again. But the north wind seemed to have blown itself out and the day was calm and still. Owen replenished the fire. “By the way, Tommy came in last night after dark. He wasn’t mad any more—just hurt, I think. And confused.”
“Oh, I’m glad. I hope we can help them sort this out.”
In his half-sleeping state, Alec heard the voices discussing his father, but his mind couldn’t grasp the content of their speech. He moaned and rolled over onto his back. He lay motionless, his breathing irregular and punctuated with little sounds of pain. His tongue was thick, his lips cracked and dry, and his head pounded to the rhythm of their words. Why do I feel so lousy? Where the hell am I?
He forced his eyes open. Peering out through slits, he realized that he was in the livery stable, lying on the floor in the hay. What’s happened? Where’s my father?
Like a clap of thunder, memories exploded in his brain. Daniel’s insult was overlaid with his father’s threats, in turn drowned out by the realization of what he’d done. He’d betrayed his friend, shamed his father. And caused such anguish for a girl who’d been his only close companion as a boy. He writhed in agony.
I am worthless. He heard his father’s muttered words again. How could you do this? Your mother would be ashamed of you. Then his mother’s voice. A man does not take actions which will cause his friends to be hurt.
I am worthless. Groaning with pain, he raised himself up enough to reach the long knife in his boot. I do not deserve to live.
His hands were weak and shaking and the knife was taken from him. He moaned again. “Let me die.”
“No.” The voice was sweet and low, and stirred an older memory.
“I deserve to die.”
“No. You have only made a mistake.” He lay back helplessly in the hay, closing his eyes as a gentle hand touched his cheek.
“Mama,” he whispered brokenly. “Mama.” And the dam he’d created, that had held the tears for so long, crumbled into bits and he lay sobbing on the cold, hard floor.
Through the hand that caressed his hair, Annie heard the torment in his heart.
No one understands.
I understand. My mother has also gone.
Were you there? Did you see it?
Yes. And I could do nothing.
Nothing! So much pain. And I could do nothing.
Yes. I know.
It was my fault.
No.
I should have been there.
You could not know.
I should have known.
No. It is not for such as you and I to see.
I want her. I want her back!
I know, caraid. We all want her back. She was so lovely. So loving.
It isn’t fair!
No, caraid. It is not fair. Yet there is nothing we can do to change it. We must accept it. For her sake. She would not want us to suffer so.
She loved me.
She loves you still. Caraid, love does not end. Love lives forever. Long after this world is gone, she will love you. Love you as she has loved no other.
I have shamed her.
She forgives you.
No.
Yes. Her love knows no bounds.
I have shamed my father.
He will forgive you.
He doesn’t understand.
You must explain. You must listen. You must try to understand.
He doesn’t grieve.
He does, caraid.
No. He laughs, he talks. He acts the clown.
It is his way, as yours is silence. Listen with your heart and hear his grief.
He grieves?
He does. As you do.
I have hurt my friends.
They will understand. They will forgive you if you ask.
She will hate me.
She will not. This I know for certain.
How do you know?
It was told to me. By one who sees.
I must make amends. I must apologize.
All will be forgiven.
Do you forgive me?
Yes, caraid, I forgive you.
***
OWEN WATCHED HIS DAUGHTER stroke the hair of the sobbing youth. In something less than a minute, Alec’s wild grief had abated, though his breath still came in shuddering gasps and his body shook as with ague. When less than another minute had passed, he reached up for Annie and was folded into her arms. Not a single word had been spoken between them. Yet as Owen watched the dark head resting on his daughter’s shoulder, he knew she’d found a way to comfort him.
He closed the stable doors and slid the bar into place. He laid a blanket over them and went back to his chair.
She was fey. He’d always known it. And now she had realized the fullness of her gift.