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She screamed again and he fought the darkness off, made it to his knees before he fell face-down. He began to crawl, but a firm hand held him back.
“No, my friend,” said Alec. “We’ll bring her to you.” He signaled to Jake, who took the trembling, sobbing woman up into his arms and carried her to her husband’s side. Alec spread a blanket for her and Jake set her down. Daniel’s arm wrapped around her and she pressed her face hard against him, shuddering, sobbing, terrified.
“Aroon,” he whispered. “Hush, my love.”
“Dan... iel...” Her hands plucked at him nervelessly.
“Shhh... it’s all over now.” Again and again he repeated it, until her sobs began to subside. But still her body vibrated with the remnants of her fear. “Hush, sweetheart. It’s all over.”
“You’re hurt.” Her voice shaking, too, and very small.
“I’m all right, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” He wished the last of his strength into her. “Hush, aroon.”
She whispered his name again and he pulled her so close there wasn't a hairs-breadth of space between them. He murmured sweet words, comforting words in her ear and felt the easing of terror, the acceptance of safety.
Alec covered them with another blanket. Annie wrapped her arms around him beneath its sheltering warmth. Deep and long was the sigh he heard as her quaking finally abated.
“Aroon,” he whispered. “Oh, Annie, I’m so sorry.”
She raised her face to his. She was pale and her lips still trembled. Her cheek was stained with his blood. There was blood in her hair too, but her eyes gleamed in the firelight.
“I knew you’d come.” Sweet words of faith that erased his guilt. “I knew you would.”
He brushed the blood from her cheek with the back of his hand. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” Her eyes told him that she didn’t lie.
“Did he touch you?”
“No. The elder protected me.”
Deeply he breathed, then asked one more question, the one that frightened him the most. “Aroon... the baby?”
Her eyes turned inward and her small, joyful smile was answer enough. He pressed his lips against hers. “I love you. I love you. Aroon. Oh, Annie. My precious love.”
His brother brought a cup of willow bark and lobelia for him, a cup of her medicine for Annie. They drank and before she slept, she raised her face to his.
“Arrah,” she whispered. “You killed him.”
“Yes, aroon.” He looked into her pale eyes, then pulled her head in against his breast once more. “He would have come back.”
She shuddered once, then closed her eyes and nestled against his heart.
***
JAKE HAD SLIPPED A drop of poppy juice into Daniel’s cup and waited nearby while Alec dealt with the elders. When he’d finished extracting their promises to return to the lower camp and banish the followers of Yellow Knife, promised in return that no vengeance would be taken for the deed of the dead man, and accepted their gifts of conciliation, it was well past midnight. When the tribe retreated, he insisted they take the body with them. Then he returned to the two who slept as one beneath the blanket and signaled for Jake. There was work to be done before they awoke.
Alec removed the blanket carefully, for the blood from Daniel’s wound had dried into it. As he pushed it aside, he saw that the woodsman had managed, before he slept, to unbutton Annie’s dress and slip his hand inside against her breast. Alec’s eyes met Jake’s—as intimate a gesture as it was, it didn’t embarrass them. Rather, it touched them deeply, and as Jake moved her aside and adjusted her dress, Alec thought, It’s as if he wanted to hold her heart right there in his hand. Annie whimpered, her hand stretching out, searching for Daniel, and when it found him, she breathed deeply and slept again.
Alec looked away into the campfire, dreaming for a moment of another girl. Would he ever earn the right to touch her? Hold her? Would he ever be the one she loved?
With a slow shake of his head, he pulled himself back to the business at hand. While Jake washed the blood from Annie’s face and hair, Alec rolled Daniel over onto his back and examined the wounds on his chest. They were shallow, almost superficial, but full of dirt. With a clean cloth, he scrubbed at them until they began to bleed again. He let the blood flow for a minute to help wash out the dirt, then used Molly’s salve to contain it. Then he turned his friend over onto another blanket and peered at his back. The gash was bleeding still from the highest point, where the knife had gone in deepest. The edges of the wound were red and inflamed, and one corner was full of pus.
He drew his own knife from the sheath in his boot and held it to the fire, motioned for Jake to hold his brother still while he applied the hot blade to the wound. Flesh hissed and burned and the woodsman groaned in spite of the poppies. Annie whimpered again. Alec repeated the process on the lower edge of the gash.
When it was over, Jake’s hands were white and trembling, so he gave the youth a slight smile and said, “That’s it. Cover it with the salve, then bandage it good and tight. And don’t worry, he’ll be all right.” With a sudden grin, Alec added, “You’ll live through it, too.”
Afterwards he stood guard while Jake slept, and roused him before sunrise. He’d prepared a light pack and saddled a pony; he gave Jake a rifle and directions to the Donovan ranch—an easier way down than they had coming up. He should be at the ranch by sunset and should send two wagons and at least three men up to them in the morning. Jake set the mustang to a brisk trot, eager to be bringing the good news home again.
The patients slept until almost noon and woke to the smell of coffee. Annie had snuggled in against him sometime during the night, and Daniel held her close and silent. When she raised her face, he kissed her tenderly. She smiled up into his eyes.
“Morning,” said Alec. “Want some coffee?”
“Oh, yes,” Annie answered, as she sat up somewhat shakily.
Daniel reached for the cup and drew it towards his mouth, then drank deeply.
“Ugh! Alec, you better get married quick! Before your coffee kills you!”
“It’s your mother’s recipe—beet juice and all!”
“Some friend you are,” retorted the woodsman. “Now give me a cup of the real stuff!” Alec complied. “This isn’t much better,” Daniel complained.
“You can make it tomorrow.”
“How long are we gonna be here?”
“It’ll be five days before you’re home. Jake left before sunrise, might get there by dark. But it will take them two days to get back with wagons, then two days to cart you home.”
“Why do we need wagons?” Annie asked.
“To take home your apology.” At her look of confusion, he explained, “The tribe apologized for Yellow Knife, even though he wasn’t one of them. They left you and Daniel gifts. I couldn’t refuse, though I didn’t take everything they offered. But you’re a pretty valuable girl, Annie. You’re worth a whole wagonload of baskets, blankets and jewelry. Not to mention a half-dozen ponies.”
“Alec, we can’t take all that.”
“He had to take it, sweetheart,” Daniel told her, “or he would have insulted them. The debt had to be paid or their pride would have suffered. Yellow Knife wasn’t of the tribe but when they accepted him, they accepted responsibility for what he did. If Alec didn’t take the gifts, they’d consider us their enemies. And I don’t know what that might lead to.”
“But how will they live now, if we have everything they own?”
“We don’t,” replied Alec. “I mostly took the things they could replace themselves. Baskets, blankets, some pottery—they can make it all again. Ponies they can catch. Some jewelry, not much, but they insisted. Shirts and moccasins. And enough food to get us home again. That’s the only thing that will really cost them anything, but I didn’t see how we’d get along without it.”
“But, Daniel, what are we going to do with it all?” she asked.
“I don’t know, aroon. We should keep some of it, at least. It wouldn’t be right not to. But the rest...” He shrugged, then grimaced.
“Maybe we could ask Carolyn to set up another auction,” Annie said. Daniel’s only reply was a smile.
Later in the day, Alec built a wide bed out of pine boughs and helped Daniel onto it. Annie lay down next to him and they slept until suppertime. The next morning, Daniel was up on his feet for a short while, though shakily. His wounds were healing cleanly and when he flexed his arm and found some mobility, he joked, “Back where I was a week ago!”
The following afternoon, Alec declared, “I’m sick of pemmican and jerky. I want a nice roasted bird or some rabbit stew. Do you two think you can entertain yourselves for a while?”
From his place on the bed of boughs, Daniel waved a hand at him. As his friend stole away into the forest, he reached for Annie’s hand.
“Aroon.” His chest was tight with longing. “I need you.”
She slipped in under the blanket, and his free hand loosened her hair. It fell down softly over his arms and chest. With both hands he framed her face, then gazed into her beautiful eyes.
“Annie.” He didn’t have the words to tell her what he felt. But she smiled at him, coming close to rest her cheek against his heart. “Oh, Annie...”
Her lips brushed softly against his chest. He buried his fingers in her hair, closed his eyes, and lost himself in the love she gave him.
***
THE WAGONS ARRIVED at sunset. Tommy shared a seat with Owen, John Patrick with Irene. Brian followed behind on Old Son. Owen almost broke his leg climbing down from his perch, so eager was he to see his daughter, to touch her and hold her. As she ran to him, Irene ran to her brother. He was sitting cross-legged by the campfire and stretched his good arm out to her. She fell on her knees at his side, wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face on his bare shoulder. Her tears fell hot against his skin.
“Hush, mavourneen. It’s all over.”
“Daniel, I was so scared.”
“Me, too. Were you brave?”
Her tear-stained face showed him the slightest of smiles. “Yes. But it was so hard!”
He kissed her forehead. “I know. But it wouldn’t mean anything if it weren’t, would it?”
She leaned back then, and touched the bandage that was wrapped around his chest. “Are you really all right?”
“A little sore, but not badly hurt. I’m glad you came.”
She brightened up at that. Annie came back to them and Irene leaped up to hug her, her tears starting anew. Annie whispered something that he didn’t hear, and it made his sister laugh.
“Oh, wait!” Irene cried. “I have something for you—where did I put it?” She wore a pair of Jake’s discarded denims, a corduroy jacket, cotton shirt and blue bandanna; she had to search through all the pockets to find what she was looking for. “Here!” She thrust a note at Annie.
“‘I lov yu, Annie’,” she read aloud. “‘I prayd for yu. Yor frend, Norah.’ Oh, Daniel, look at this! Isn’t it beautiful?”
He took the letter, drew her down next to him, and smiled up at his sister. “Thanks.”
“I better go see what I can do to help,” she said and left them there together.
The men came one at a time, to inquire after his wounds and Annie’s health. His father held his hand tightly for a long moment. Jake had given them an abbreviated story but Alec had filled in the details. Daniel didn’t want to discuss it, and they respected his wishes. They ate around the campfire and Brian helped himself to the last of the rabbit stew after everyone else was finished.
“This is real good, Miss Annie,” he said.
“Thanks,” she drawled, her eyes twinkling at him, “but Alec made it.”
“Naw. Did ’e really? Sure don’t taste like a man’s cookin’.”
Laughter rang through the glade as they began to swap cooking stories. Brian insisted that Adam was the worst cook on the range while Irene argued with him. It was Frank, she stated, and by no small margin.
When Annie began to yawn, they all went to bed. Alec had widened the bed of boughs so it would accommodate four. Owen took one side. Annie slept between him and Daniel, her hand in her father’s, her husband’s arm around her waist. Curled up against the woodsman was Irene, her back to his, the warmth of his body melting the last of the fear from her heart.
Before they settled in, though, Owen hesitantly framed a question.
“Say, lad, you think you’ll be up and around by Saturday?”
“What’s today?”
“Wednesday.”
“Sure. How come?”
“Well, Carolyn really did want to get married in June...”
His daughter’s arms were strangling him. “You waited? You waited for me?”
“Silly child, of course we did!”