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Returning to Sidhean Annie with a wagon full of loose hay, Owen and John Patrick helped Tommy and Jake pick Daniel up, using the blanket to carry him. Geordie and Jake climbed in to sit behind their brother and cushion his back so he wouldn’t roll over, and Owen sat in front of him for the same reason. The woodsman hadn’t moved at all and groaned only once, so deep was the spell of the poppies. John Patrick and Molly settled themselves on the seat of the wagon. Tommy gathered the reins of the horses, guiding them slowly and carefully through the fields.
The family had congregated at the ranch—Adam and Jesse, Rebecca and Brian, Evelyn and Lowell. Anticipating a stay of at least several days, Brian had already sent two of his father’s hands out to the canyon to take care of the stock there. Frank met them at the barn and helped with the horses while Adam, Geordie, Brian and Tommy carried Daniel to the couch in the back parlor.
Kneeling by his side, Jesse brushed the hair from his face. His breathing was regular and deep. She kissed his forehead and detected no fever. Irene rushed in and started to cry.
“Daniel!” she sobbed. “Oh, no, Daniel!” She tried to put her arms around him but Jesse held her back. Adam drew her up to her feet, into the far corner of the room, and into his arms. She sobbed against his shoulder.
“Hush, mavourneen,” Adam soothed her. “Don’t cry, little one.” They were the same words with which Daniel had once comforted her, and she sobbed more wildly than before.
“Irene.” Her brother’s voice was low but stern in her ear. “Pull yourself together now. You’re not helping him. He’s asleep, but he may hear you. So stop your crying. He needs his rest, and he needs his strength. He needs us to be strong for him.”
Her shoulders quaked as she wept silently. Adam held her closer and murmured words of comfort. “Good girl. Hold on tight and don’t cry. He wouldn’t want you to cry.”
“But I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know, love. We’re all scared. But we can’t let him see it. He’s got to be strong and we’ve got to help him. He needs us, Irene. He needs you. So stop your crying. Do it for him.”
She looked up at him, fighting her fear, her grief. The tears had almost stopped. He drew her head down to his shoulder again.
“That’s my good girl. Just hold on until it’s gone.” Finally, she stopped shivering and stepped away from him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. He took off his bandanna and offered it to her. She smiled weakly in thanks.
“What about Annie?” she asked in a voice that still quavered.
“Tommy says she’ll be all right, even though the Navajo have taken her. He says the elder, Running Wolf, would never let them hurt her.” He prayed the blacksmith was right, that their exquisite little seer would be protected from harm.
“But what if she gets sick?”
He had no answer for her. “We’ll have to pray that she doesn’t.” Her head was on his shoulder again and she whispered his name.
“Yes, little one?”
“I love you.”
He chuckled. “I love you, too, mavourneen.” He raised her face, pinched her cheek. “Better? Good! Then let’s go see what we can do to help.”