Without the blood transfusion, Wildcat would have died, but he was slowly recuperating from his gunshot wound and regaining his strength. Elenor and Bess were amazed at his improbable recovery and concluded that my blood had some sort of miraculous healing qualities. I explained the transfusion had worked because I knew my blood type. After a while the cunning women seemed to grasp the concept and warned me that should the need arise again, they wouldn’t hesitate to volunteer me as their blood donor.
Certain they were serious, I hoped no one else needed a transfusion in the near future, but the vision continued to plague me. The time had come. I had to warn Henry. Near dawn, I met him inside the barn as he and James tended to the livestock. He saw me as I approached and smiled. “How is Wildcat this morning?”
“With each day, he’s getting stronger. Henry, I need to speak with you—in private.”
He nodded and gave James instructions for the horses, then joined me outside. “You’re leaving.”
“It’s nothing like that, and I don’t know how to tell you this, except straight out. I’ve had a vision.”
“A vision?” he asked.
“It’s similar to the dreaming, but I didn’t go through the steps to enter the dreaming. I just saw it. I know you may have difficulty believing—”
“Nay, you know I have seen much since coming to Virginia that questions what I was taught as a lad. What sort of vision?”
“It’s about my people, killing your family, including you.”
He wobbled on his feet. “Elenor, Christopher...”
“All of them. The only one I didn’t see was James.”
Henry paled. “Do such visions normally come to pass?”
“I don’t know. Wildcat told me that sometimes they’re warnings to prevent such disasters. And you know I’ll do whatever I can to keep it from happening, but I have no idea as to when it might take place. If I could reach Phoebe, she might be able to search the records for this century. Even then, the records are sparse for this time period.”
“What should I do?”
“Be on your guard. That’s all I ask.”
“Aye, I shall, and I’ll make certain the family takes proper precautions.”
During the winter, Charging Bear visited twice, bringing pelts and deer meat in exchange for English goods. Although the colony was more sustainable than when it had first been settled, it remained considerably dependent on England. The spring ships had yet to arrive at port, giving Henry little to trade.
More to the point, Charging Bear’s manner troubled me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was wrong. After dealing with Henry, we passed a pipe around, and he asked about Meg and Phoebe. “I haven’t been able to reach Phoebe, and Meg... she’s been in an accident,” I said. I described what I knew as best as I could, yet Charging Bear asked no questions. He was clearly distracted. It was almost like the vitality had been sucked right out of him. “How’s Strong Bow?” I asked, changing the subject.
“He’s in good health,” he replied.
I had been a cop for far too long. Something was definitely wrong. Finally, I pulled him aside when the others were nowhere around. “What’s wrong, Charging Bear? You’re my brother. Tell me what troubles you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know the details.”
“Details? What details?”
“Come spring, there will be an attack on the colony. I don’t know when and won’t be allowed to trade again before then.”
Attack? Paramount chief Opechancanough had attacked the colonists in 1622. Phoebe’s first husband, Lightning Storm, had been involved. Had there been another? If only I could recall my history, but an organized attack could be the source of my visions. I squeezed Charging Bear’s arm. “You may have saved Walks Through Mist’s family.”
“I wish I could say more, but the weroance plan in secrecy until shortly before it is time to make their move.”
The fact that he had managed to gain some knowledge of the leaders’ plans was useful. The vision Meg and I had seemed a possible reality. I had to keep trying to reach Phoebe. She might be able to provide me with more information.
When I entered the dreaming, Crow led the way, but the wind was absent. Foreboding filled me, yet when the mist vanished, I entered my own dining room. Phoebe, Meg, and Tiffany sat around a table with kiddie party favors. I waved, but no one returned it, nor did they look in my direction.
Phoebe rose and blew out a candle on a cake in the shape of cartoon-looking yellow duck, labeled with a one. From the high chair, Heather squealed in delight. I was missing my daughter’s first birthday. Although my job had kept me away from the house for many hours at a time, I had never expected to be the sort of dad who missed milestones. My heart ached.
“Phoebe.” But she didn’t look in my direction. “Meg, I’ve reached you before.” Nothing. I could see and hear them, but for whatever reason, I was invisible.
Like any kid’s party, there was cake and ice cream. Afterward, Heather charged around the room while holding onto Phoebe’s fingers for support. It wouldn’t be long before she’d take the first step under her own power. And Meg seemed to be recovering slowly from the accident. She resorted to the use of a cane in getting around.
The idyllic scene lulled me into believing that I really was present. That if only I wished hard enough, I could stay and forget about the reason why I had come. I could call Ed and have my old job back. After spending most of the winter huddled around a fire, even Shae’s comment about central heating haunted me. I had spent more nights than I cared to think about shivering in cold cars during stake outs; I thought how nice it would be to not have to worry about a fire going out in order to keep warm.
Oh what the hell. I was with my family—even if only in spirit. Tiffany blew bubbles, and Heather crawled after them. One popped on the floor near my foot before Heather could reach it. I knelt down. “Heather...” She looked up as if she had heard me, and I repeated her name. “If only you could talk, you could give your mother a message. I miss you—all of you.”
Phoebe stepped beside our daughter and I straightened. For a moment, she seemed to gaze in my direction. Crow cawed a warning.
“Lee?” She smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t miss Heather’s birthday.”
I had finally broken through whatever barrier had kept us apart. But the breeze came between us. Before the wind could separate us, I drew her into my arms, kissed, and hugged her. If only I held onto her tight enough... the gusts grew stronger, and my arms were empty. I sat near the James River in the same place as I had when first entering the dreaming. I clenched my hands and struggled to keep from screaming. I didn’t know how long I had sat in the same spot, unmoving, when the spring air ruffled my hair. I cast my gaze to the tranquil waves and blinked. A small shallop sailed toward Henry’s dock. Uncertain whether I was visible to the crew, I ducked behind a clump of trees and watched as a couple of men secured the mooring.
Before I could alert Henry to the crew’s presence, he appeared on the dock, grinning from ear to ear. The kids scampered after him, screaming with excitement and jumping up and down. No one needed to tell me who the men were. Henry’s son and Elenor’s husband had returned.
I sought out Wildcat and William and waited until the initial welcomes and hugs were over. Finally, the group turned in our direction. Elenor held Christopher’s arm in a stranglehold grip. Around five foot ten with light brown hair and blue eyes, he reached out to shake my hand. Maybe due to the fact that he had a mixed heritage wife, he showed no hesitation greeting me. His grasp was strong and confident, but before my eyes his face shattered like glass.
Blinking back the vision, I withdrew my hand, and Christopher went on to meet Wildcat and William. My hand shook, and I waited a moment to catch my breath.
“What’s wrong, brother?” Wildcat asked.
“Another vision.” But he kept his place and didn’t inquire further. I collected myself before following everyone else inside. As usual, the women outdid themselves and cooked a feast to welcome Christopher and David home.
Over the meal, Christopher told us about the war in England. Their ship and cargo had been seized, which was why it had taken them two years to return to Virginia.
My history of seventeenth-century England was even worse than my history of Virginia. When I thought of a civil war, I thought of the American one. I really had no idea what the English one was about, but I picked up on the fact that it affected the ships to and from England. Surprisingly, Virginia had remained neutral and benefited through trade with the Dutch, New England, and the West Indies.
By the time we retreated outside to pass the pipe and share more stories, Christopher and Elenor had withdrawn from the group. I hoped that Phoebe and I would be able to share a similar reunion soon, but reality hit me. Troubled by my visions and where they could be leading, I worried this reunion celebration might be cut short.