Chapter 2

It was mutiny. Outrage came in searing waves that made Spock pull at his restraints until his wrists chafed, but he could not stop himself. Sometimes when he began to shout, a nurse closed the door of the room. Alone, he continued shouting protests until his throat felt raw and dry, but there was no way to reach the water at his bedside.

Doctor McCoy wheeled in a medical machine, positioned a hood approximately one meter above Spock's head, and turned it on.

"Where is Captain Kirk?" Spock hoarsely demanded. "What have you done to him? I am the first officer aboard this vessel and I order you to release me at once!"

McCoy stopped what he was doing and looked at him sadly. "Kirk is fine. The Enterprise is in Spacedock. You're sick and we're trying to help you."

Spock knew a lie when he heard one. McCoy had joined the mutineers and it was his job to keep Spock off the bridge. What had become of the captain? He attempted to calm himself, to think logically, but his mind was in turmoil. All at once he surmised the reason for it and was horrified at the prospect of renewed addiction. "You've drugged me! You have injected me with Saurian strardus!"

"God no," the chief surgeon replied, "none of that damn stardust. This is medication."

Spock did not believe him. He could barely contain his helpless panic as McCoy took a hypospray off a side table and began to adjust its settings. "Wait," he said.

The traitorous doctor paused and met his eyes.

"I am thirsty," Spock told him, and it was true.

McCoy poured a glass of water and held it while Spock drank through a straw. Only Spock did not swallow all of it. As he lay his head back on the pillow, he spat the last mouthful into McCoy's startled face. And cursed him.

"Why, you…" McCoy began angrily, and Spock fully expected to be struck. But then the momentary shock left the doctor's face and he wiped himself dry on his sleeve. With a sigh he said, "Crude but effective, my Vulcan friend. I didn't know you had it in you."

Then he delivered the hypo and Spock relaxed into oblivion.

oooo

The quiet atmosphere in the hospital chapel helped restore a measure of peace to T'Naisa's anguished heart. Ultimately, God was in control. Whatever evil had befallen Spock, the Shiav would see that some good came out of it. Oh, but how it hurt!

Alone in a pew, she placed a phone call to Jamie, who had remained at Plum Creek to care for Tess and the animals. She asked him to tell Jim Kirk and the seminarians that Spock was in the Phoenix hospital, and to send a subspace message to Sorel on Vulcan asking for the Yanashites' prayers. As an afterthought, she asked him to contact Sarek, as well. Then she called T'Beth and Simon. They both lived nearby and rushed to the hospital.

T'Naisa was glad that she was no longer by herself. The bond connecting her to Spock had grown so dim and murky that she feared he was going to die. Mentally, he had already left her. She could not bear the thought of losing him completely.

The three of them sat silently at Spock's side, watching him rest under sedation. Earlier, Simon had anointed his father and offered Yanashite prayers for his healing. Now with tears in her eyes, T'Beth fingered the beads of a rosary while her lips moved silently. Simon leaned down and opened his violin case. He lifted the instrument to his shoulder and began to play softly.

Spock heard music and knew that his son was playing. He was proud of Simon's talent, but sometimes the schoolboy's behavior worried him. In bed, he turned toward Lauren, who had only recently become pregnant with twins, and saw that she was sleeping. Good. But there was too much on his own mind for sleep. He started to rise, and discovered that he was unable to move.

Around him, the darkness gave way to light. For a moment he lay blinking and confused.

The music stopped. Three grim faces appeared at his bedside. T'Naisa, T'Beth, Simon.

"What is this?" he asked. "Where am I?"

T'Naisa hugged him around the neck and kissed his cheek. Through their bond, he sensed her deep unhappiness.

Drawing back, she asked thickly, "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course," he replied. He tried to reach out and touch her, but could not.

T'Beth saw his effort and placed her hand on his. "It's alright," she said. "Don't fight it. You've been a little…restless…and they needed to keep you in bed."

Spock felt the stirring of an uneasy memory. He met T'Naisa's anxious eyes. "You did as I said. You called McCoy."

She nodded. "He's trying to find out what's wrong. You keep…slipping in and out."

"Of consciousness?"

A tear rolled down her face and spattered on the bed. It put him in mind of Sarek…and then of James. He could still see the pain in his son's eyes as he struck him.

"Tell James…I am sorry."

"He knows," T'Naisa said. "He knows you didn't remember about the snowshoes. He knows you're sick. He's a good boy…home watching Tess, taking care of everything."

Feeling weary, Spock closed his eyes. When next he opened them, the room was full of dangerous strangers and he shouted at them until they left.

oooo

"Please. Sit down," Doctor McCoy said, having ushered the family into a consultation room.

He perched on the rolling stool that many doctors seemed to favor. Judging by his grave demeanor, T'Naisa assumed that he had reached a diagnosis and it was not favorable. As she waited for him to speak, her stomach twisted into a knot.

McCoy let out a sigh. "I've run a battery of tests and done some research on Spock's family history. He looks darn good for his age; one would think he's in his early forties instead of his eighties. As it turns out, he's known for years that he carries a certain genetic marker, as does his father, Sarek. This marker predisposes them to a disease that sometimes strikes Vulcans as they age." He paused. "It affects the mind…"

T'Naisa swallowed against her fear. "Vulcan Dementia?"

He nodded. "It's called Bendii Syndrome."

She could not bear to sit still. Shaken by chills, she got up and began to move, pacing aimlessly while T'Beth and Simon sat stone-faced.

"But the news isn't all bad," McCoy announced. "Spock's human blood has made it hit earlier than usual, but that same humanness is a source of hope. There are medications we can try. With your permission, I'll start him on a regimen that's been successful in treating similar disorders."

"Human disorders," T'Naisa choked out.

McCoy's silence was answer enough.

T'Naisa gave permission to start treatment, then collapsed into a chair and wept. As the doctor left, T'Beth and Simon did their best to comfort her, but their own hearts were heavy with sorrow.

oooo

"Within a week", Doctor McCoy predicted.

They would know by then if the drugs were of any use. He explained the problem with Spock's brain in professional terms that held little meaning for T'Naisa. She knew only that her brilliant, beloved husband was rapidly losing his mental faculties.

T'Beth persuaded her to send for James and Tess, and they stayed in the guest cottage behind T'Beth's home. Jim Kirk took the Plum Creek animals to his ranch, and the seminarians went home. At Plum Creek, there was no one left to clear away the snow as it piled up to the eaves of the lonely little cabin.

Thinking of her home in the woods helped keep T'Naisa going. She reminded herself that she still had Spock's child; she still had Tess, who in herself was nothing short of a miracle. When the fear closed in, she held Tess tight and rocked her until the child protested.

At week's end, there was cause for hope.

"He's less agitated," McCoy reported," but still suffering considerable disorientation. Yesterday he called me 'captain'; I guess he confused me with Jim."

T'Naisa said, "He's called James 'Sybok', too. He seems better at identifying women. He always knows T'Beth."

"And you?"

Pain lanced her heart. "I usually take him into the past…to the bad old days when we were adversaries instead of bondmates."

"Try bringing Tess," he suggested. "His little daughter might help stimulate positive memories."

T'Naisa did not want to risk exposing Tess to her father's outbursts, but on the doctor's advice she carried the two-year-old into Spock's room the next day. Spock seemed to be sleeping. He appeared so completely normal that T'Naisa could not resist bending down and kissing his cheek lightly.

As she straightened, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, pretending that the fog had lifted from his mind and the bond between them was open.

Tess held out an arm to him and said, "Dada still sick." Pointing to the restraints holding his wrists, she added, "Ouchies."

Spock's gaze settled on Tess and for an instant it seemed to T'Naisa that he recognized her. Just then the door opened. Jim Kirk entered the room, and as Spock's attention moved to his old friend, his behavior shifted into military mode.

"Admiral," he said, "I was not aware that you were aboard the Enterprise." He cast T'Naisa an accusing glance. "Cadet Brandt. Why was I not informed of the admiral's presence?"

T'Naisa opened her mouth, unsure of what to say.

Assuming a smile, Jim slipped into the role of Starfleet admiral. "It was Chief Rand who beamed me aboard, remember? It's Christmas and I wanted to surprise you."

Spock frowned at him. "Christmas? No, Jim, you are mistaken. Christmas has come and gone."

Jim stepped closer to the bed. "That's right. What month is it…Earth calendar."

It was painful to watch Spock struggle with his confusion. "January?" he asked, then turned to T'Naisa. "Ashayam, is it still January?"

Her heart leaped. He had called her by an endearment that he favored. "Yes!" Reaching down, she rested her hand on his and she could feel the bond between them cracking open. "Yes, darling, it's still January. You're been hospitalized, but now you're starting to get better."

Perhaps it was a mistake to touch him when her own emotions were in such turmoil. Suddenly his eyes widened and his pupils dilated. She felt a storm of terror rising in him and drew back. Holding Tess tightly, she rushed from the room, leaving Jim alone to deal with Spock's latest outburst.

oooo

He woke up. Opening his eyes, Spock saw two young men sitting side by side in a shaft of sunlight streaming through a window. Although they were quite different in appearance, he knew that they were brothers and he recognized them as his sons. Lying still, he watched them carry on a quiet conversation about someone dear to them who was very ill. He did not consciously attempt to move his arms; like an animal, he had learned that it was less painful to stay within the approved boundaries, and seldom tested them. For that reason he was surprised when a hand rose up before his face. For a moment he stared at the splayed fingers, at the slight discoloration at the wrist, as if the limb belonged to someone else.

Simon and James noticed that he was awake, and came over to him with anxious eyes.

"Father," Simon said, wearing the distinctive green cape of a Yanashite priest.

Spock pulled himself up in bed. It felt good to move, but his body was weak from disuse. He asked, "What is this place?"

"Starfleet Medical Center…Phoenix."

Spock could not remember arriving at the hospital. He could not seem to recall anything beyond the moment when he struck James. He looked at the dark-haired teenager, expecting to find a bruise on his face, but the skin was unmarked. It was then he realized that considerable time had passed.

"You've been sick," James said.

Simon nudged his brother and the two exchanged a guarded look.

"Sick?" Spock questioned. "What manner of sickness?" Thinking of his father's medical history, he added, "Is it my heart?"

"I'll get Doctor McCoy," Simon responded. "He'll explain everything." And he left the room, taking James with him.

As the door slid shut, Spock heard a lock engaging.

oooo

T'Naisa had wanted to be present when Spock received the news about his condition; she made it clear to Doctor McCoy. But now that the moment had come, her courage faltered once again, and she prayed hard as she took her husband's hand and pressed it to her lips.

On the other side of the bed, McCoy pulled up a chair and prepared to answer every question honestly. Spock assumed that the problem was his heart, and said so.

"No, your heart is in fine shape," McCoy replied. "The problem is something else entirely." His eyes went misty and he wrestled over his words. "The problem…originates in your central nervous system. Certain trace elements…and their effect on the tissues of the brain. There were predisposing factors…"

Spock's hand clenched over T'Naisa's. She knew he was trying hard to control himself, but a sharp ripple of emotion broke through his mental barriers and jolted her; shock, dismay, fear. Silently she absorbed them in an act of love and support.

Under his breath, Spock said, "Bendii…"

T'Naisa's throat ached. "You're doing better now…so much better."

McCoy cleared his own throat and continued. "It came on rather quickly, so the damage was not as severe as it might have been."

Spock did not seem to be listening anymore. Turning his head aside, he closed his eyes.

T'Naisa cast a pleading look at McCoy, and the doctor continued in a soft, soothing voice. "Spock, I have you on some medications that have worked wonders. Your brain activity is close to normal again."

Spock's eyes flew open. "Close to normal," he repeated with heavy sarcasm.

McCoy's manner abruptly changed. "Yes!" he snapped, "you ungrateful son-of-a-bitch, close to normal! And that is one hell of an improvement over a couple of weeks ago. In fact, it's damn near a miracle. Thank God for your human genes; without them, it would be a very different story."

T'Naisa had never heard such harsh language from a doctor, but McCoy was more than Spock's physician; he was his friend. She could only hope that the dressing-down would have a positive effect.

Reverting to a less confrontational tone, McCoy said, "Spock, the prognosis is hopeful. I'm not talking about an out-and-out cure, but taking a few pills a day should keep things under control."

"For now," Spock said despondently.

McCoy nodded. "All any of us have, is today."

"And an eternity in the next world," T'Naisa added, for just now it was a very comforting thought.

McCoy shrugged an eyebrow. "I'm a doctor, not a theologian. I'll leave that department to the two of you."

oooo

Spock returned home to find a plethora of "get well" messages awaiting him. That in itself was unsettling, but coming upon one from Sarek, he could no longer restrain his irritation.

Striding over to the kitchen, he confronted T'Naisa as she was preparing a special meal in his honor. "My father," he said. "You told him…and all those others, as well."

She dropped her mixing spoon into a bowl and gazed at him with maddening concern. "Well…of course. Friends and family. Everyone was worried about you."

"My…mental…state," he said, biting off each word, "is a private…matter. How could you not understand something so elemental?"

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry. What would you have had me tell them? Lies? Is that the Vulcan way? The Yanashite way?"

He covered his face with his hands and struggled to contain his anger. T'Naisa touched his shoulder, bringing a fresh influx of her worry. He shrugged away from the disturbing contact and immediately regretted the action. He did not mean to hurt her.

Lowering his hands, he drew a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry. Perhaps I should attempt to meditate."

She forced a little smile. "Be patient with yourself, Spock."

He retreated into the bedroom, settled onto a meditation mat, and closed his eyes. Half an hour passed without achieving even the first level of mental serenity. Then the bedroom door opened, and looking up, he found Tess smiling at him.

"Hi, Dada," she said.

He beckoned to her. Tess ran over and threw herself into his arms. And as he held her close, something of her simple joy found its way into his heart.

oooo

"Sir?"

Duvek's quiet voice and raised forefinger captured Spock's attention. He had just dismissed his two seminarians for the day, but for some reason they remained at their desks, unmoving.

"Yes, Duvek," Spock acknowledged.

As always, he spoke with the utmost respect. "Sir. Was there not to have been…an examination?"

Of course! The weekly examination. How could he have forgotten? Scarcely a day went by without some memory lapse to embarrass him. If the affliction was meant to deepen his humility, God had chosen well. Intellectual pride was among a Vulcan's greatest failings.

For an instant, Spock was sorely tempted to tell his students that he had deliberately rescheduled the exam, but he rejected the lie. Instead he admitted, "My memory failed me. We will test on Monday morning." And he walked out the door.

Duvek hurried and caught up with him in the hallway.

"Sir." His brown eyes were very earnest. "Sir…perhaps it was wrong of me to speak out. I did not mean…that is to say…I wish to apologize."

"There is no need for an apology," Spock assured him. "Is it possible to be too conscientious, but such sensitivity will make you a good priest."

Duvek smiled.

Spock look leave of him and exited the seminary, but instead of going to the cabin, he took a path that led into the woods.

oooo

T'Naisa stood on the porch, Spock's discarded wrist phone in hand. Though the air was warm, stubborn traces of snow still clung to the deep shade beneath the pines at the edge of the clearing. Twilight was fast approaching, and Spock had not yet come home.

She tried to tell herself that there was no reason for concern. Since their return to Plum Creek, Spock often headed into the mountains without warning. Doctor McCoy said that the jaunts would help ease Spock's lingering depression and were therefore therapeutic. But each time Spock left, she could not help but resent the inconsiderate behavior that made her sick with worry.

Off in the woods, she heard a dog barking. A familiar mix of relief and anger flooded her. Springing off the porch, she headed toward the sound, into a thick grove of trees.

They met at a bend in the trail. Spock stopped with Jamie's dog cavorting at his heels.

"You could have told me you were going," T'Naisa burst out. "How would you feel if I just up and disappeared?"

He stiffened with his own share of anger—unjustifiable anger, in T'Naisa's view. Yet on an intellectual level she knew how a man valued his personal freedom. Rather than call him selfish, she held her tongue and brought herself under control.

Spock made no such attempt. "You need not have come looking for me," he said testily. "I am still capable of finding my own way home."

"Of course you are," she agreed, "but it upsets me when you stay out so long, as if…as if you would rather spend time with the dog than with your own wife."

She wanted him to take her into his arms and reassure her of his love.

Instead, he exploded. "At least the dog accepts me as I am!"

Seeing her tears coming, he brushed past her and secluded himself in the temple until well after midnight.

oooo

A brilliant moon illuminated the clearing as Spock finally made his way back to the cabin. Beneath the porch light, Dusty greeted him with a friendly wag of his tail. The sight of the dog pained Spock, and he passed him by without acknowledging his presence. Inside, a single lamp shone in a corner of the living room. T'Naisa sat in its light, his overdue pills on the little table beside her.

She would want to talk, and Spock knew that only an apology could heal the rift caused by his thoughtless behavior and cutting remarks. Thoughtless—the very concept was foreign to him. All his life he had tried to act in a considerate manner and frame his words carefully. Now, all too often, his words broke free from his control, hurting the very people he cherished the most. McCoy said it was only to be expected, that among family, one felt most free to be oneself. But the dementia had pulled away the layers of discipline to expose a self he did not like.

He went to the pills and swallowed them. Then setting aside his pride, he stood before his wife and said, "Time now for my daily admission of guilt. I do not know how you bear with me. In my present state I am not fit to be your husband."

T'Naisa bolted to her feet. "Because you're struggling? Spock, we all are; that's why we need the help of the Shiav. He's known us from before time began, our strengths and our weaknesses, yet he brought us into being and he brought us together."

Taking hold of his hands, she gazed into his eyes and softly sang verses from an old song she favored, adding a touch or two of her own.

"Don't go changing, to try and please me

You never let me down before

Don't imagine you're too much worry

And I don't want you anymore

I would not leave you in times of trouble

We never could have come this far

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times

I love you just the way you are."

When she finished the moving lyrics, he told her shamelessly, "And I do love you, ashayam."

Taking his face into her hands, she promised, "We'll get through this together."

He wanted to believe her.

T'Naisa rose up and kissed his lips tenderly before asking, "Did you get any dinner at the seminary?"

"No," he admitted. Food had been far from his mind. "There really is no need…"

But she was already on her way to the kitchen. "I'll get you something," she said over her shoulder.

A short time later she returned to the living area, plate in hand, and found him lying fast asleep on the sofa.

oooo

One early June day Spock told his son, "James, to hear you, one would think that there is nothing else like it on Earth."

T'Naisa gave Spock's hand a conspiratorial squeeze and spoke to him with her eyes. The three of them stood by the horse corral while Tess napped in the cabin. The weather was summerlike, with unseasonable warmth forecast for the entire week ahead.

"There is nothing else like it," Jamie said with feeling. "That little valley in the high country…the place where I found Starburst…I just wish you could see it. I'd like to go back before my summer job starts."

Starburst pranced in the corral and shook her silky white mane. The leopard Appaloosa had grown into a beautiful young horse. Another year or so, and her back could bear the weight of a rider.

Spock gave T'Naisa a this-is-it glance and said, "James, I think you should go. In fact, I think we should all go…together."

James swung around and stared at his father with a mixture of astonishment and confusion. "Father…no offense, but I don't want to fly there in a skimmer. I want to ride in like I did before…on horseback."

Spock gathered himself. "I know how to ride. And as for T'Naisa, she rides as well as you."

"It'll be fun to camp out," T'Naisa said persuasively. "Antonia said she'll take care of Tess, and the seminarians are heading out on vacation. It's been such a long time since the three of us have done anything special together. Come on, Jamie, what do you say?"

He broke into a broad smile and hugged her. Then he looked at his father, and though Jamie had grown into a tall young man, he gave Spock a hug, too.

On a pleasant, sunny morning, they set out—Spock astride Biscuit, T'Naisa on Sultan, and Jamie on an Appaloosa borrowed from the Kirks. Old Paco had died during the winter, but a new burro named Poncho plodded after them, laden down with supplies. Dusty ran loose and sniffed at everything along the trail.

Only a few weeks ago, T'Naisa would never have attempted such an outing. Though some memory problems still plagued Spock, his depression had finally lifted, putting an end to the unpredictable outbursts that had disrupted the family. Once again, he was able to meditate effectively. It truly seemed as if the worst days were behind them, but both she and Spock knew that leaving the security of his normal environment would put his recovery to the test.

Jamie's direct route quickly took them into the high country. After a day of exquisite scenery, they camped near the waterfall where Jamie had spent the night with Lame Wolf after his first adventure in the hidden valley. They ate meal-packs around a campfire and bedded down after Spock set a perimeter shield to safeguard against predators. T'Naisa snuggled close to him in their double sleeping bag and they whispered in the dark until a pleasant weariness overtook her.

Morning brought an aroma of food. T'Naisa blinked the sleep from her eyes and found the men at the campfire cooking a hearty breakfast. She rose and ate her fill of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Then they broke camp and headed up the mountain.

Shortly before noon, they entered the narrow cleft that led to Jamie's secret retreat. The slushy ground bore the hoof prints of wild horses that frequented the path. As they moved along, the cleft suddenly opened onto a wide ledge. T'Naisa caught her breath at the glorious vista before them. Snowy mountain peaks ringed a sheltered valley where a gemlike lake glistened amid green pastures. Puffy white clouds reflected on the serene surface of the water.

"Oh Jamie, it's amazing!" she cried.

"Indeed," Spock said. "So this is where you found Starburst."

At the northern end of the little valley, something could be seen moving near the trees. One by one, horses appeared and began to graze their way toward the lake. Jamie's fingers went to the lariat hanging from his saddle horn. "Look there! See the pinto? She's the one I told you about; the one I planned to rope last time, when I caught Uncle Jim's mare, instead."

Spock had noted the movement of Jamie's hand. Clearly taken by surprise, he said, "Surely you do not intend to bring back another horse."

"I sure do," Jamie answered with determination. "And she's gotten herself a new foal. Pure white!"

The foal was so young that it looked a bit wobbly beside its mother. Cute or not, T'Naisa fully expected Spock to object, but for now he remained silent. Perhaps he was reconciling himself to the fact that this son would never share his interest in the sciences and might be destined for some outdoor occupation.

As if sharing her thoughts, Jamie turned to Spock and said, "Father, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time. It's about my plans for the future."

Spock regarded him with something less than enthusiasm.

Hoping to head off an argument, T'Naisa interjected, "That sounds like too heavy a subject for an empty stomach. I'm hungry. Let's go down into the valley and eat."

They made a camp at the base of the trail to prevent the wild horses from escaping before Jamie could try to claim his pinto. As they ate meal-packs, the clouds thickened a bit, overshadowing the valley. There was a rumble of thunder atop a mountain. T'Naisa watched Spock swallow his midday medication with some water, and wondered how he would react to Jamie's revelation. She did not relish the thought of an ugly scene here in the middle of nowhere.

Jamie set down his half-eaten meal-pack and cleared his throat. "Father…I know that I've been kind of disappointing to you. I look so Vulcan…so much like you…that you expect me to think like you."

"I have never said that," Spock protested, fork in hand.

"You didn't have to. I'm sorry I can't be more to your liking, but I have different interests. I've known what I want to do since last year, and I'm making plans for college."

Spock's right brow shot up and he lowered his meal-pak to his lap. "College?"

"Animal husbandry," T'Naisa guessed, knowing that her husband would not be pleased by such a choice.

Jamie shook his head. "No, Jim's taught me all I need to know in that department. I'm going to major in psychology and youth counseling. You see…" He cast a glance at his father and shifted nervously.

"Yes?" Spock prompted, obviously intrigued by his son's revelation.

Jamie pulled in a deep breath. His slanted brows drew together. "Lame Wolf and I are going to buy some land for a youth ranch. We're going to take in troubled boys and help them turn their lives around. It's…it's an interest that Teresa shared, too."

Taken aback, T'Naisa glanced at Spock. His face was devoid of expression, but finally he said, "I was not aware that your sister had such an interest."

Now it was Jamie who seemed surprised. "She…kept a diary. I saw it once…in your closet. Haven't you ever read it?"

T'Naisa suspected that Spock had never opened its pages and that it was more than a matter of respecting his deceased daughter's privacy. Coming across a distasteful entry would forever tarnish his pristine image of the girl.

"No," Spock admitted. "I have not."

"Well, she had a deep interest in helping children. You've provided such a good home for us, that…that I'd like to reach out to kids who are at-risk and give them some security, some stability. I want to take them into the country where they can put their hands on things that are alive and real. Things that heal the spirit."

T'Naisa expected Spock to retort that technology was very real, and that the hard sciences were as beneficial to mankind as the soft sciences. Then she remembered the many long hours she had wasted in worry while he roamed the woods by himself. Hadn't he found something in nature to soothe his own troubled heart? And what of this trip? It had been as much Spock's idea as hers, and she knew that he was taking pleasure in it.

"Father." Jamie's ever-deepening voice pleaded for understanding.

"A boy's ranch," Spock said without a touch of sarcasm. "It is a worthy endeavor. If all goes well, I may someday invest in your future enterprise."

T'Naisa's heart swelled with happiness as Jamie broke into a broad smile of relief. It was all she could do to keep from hugging Spock and showering him with kisses. Instead she merely said, "Good for you, Jamie. Good for both of you."

oooo

The passing clouds spattered a few drops of rain before drifting down the valley and releasing a deluge upon the lake. At nightfall, the moonless sky blazed with the light of countless stars, putting Spock in mind of his travels aboard the Enterprise. Rather than relive the memories in Bendii hallucinations, he spoke about them in a lucid manner.

"Do you miss those days?" T'Naisa asked him as they all sat together by a campfire.

"One lives in the present," he replied, "and there is much in the present that pleases me." Putting an arm around her slim waist, he drew her close beside him, conveying his affection with a discreet, well-ordered mindtouch. T'Naisa turned her head, and smiling into his eyes, understood how truly precious she was to him.

They slept at the base of the trail. In the morning there was a leisurely breakfast, and then they packed in preparation to leave. The sun's warmth helped dispel the chill of the high country as James leashed his dog to Poncho and prepared to capture the wild pinto of his dreams. He had set out earlier to locate the herd, and now he remounted.

"They're not far from here," he said from the saddle. "Head on up the trail and keep going. Once I get her, I'll be coming along in a hurry."

Spock took a small stun gun from his coat pocket and handed it to James. "I want you to use this on the stallion."

James pushed the dark, straight hair off his forehead. With a nod, he accepted the device and rode off toward the lake.

Spock and T'Naisa mounted. Spock took the lead, trailing Dusty and the burro as they started up the winding track. Partway to the top, he paused at a switchback that offered a panoramic view of the valley floor. Wild horses stood with their necks stretched to the lake water, drinking their fill. He saw James approaching from the north. A spotted stallion—the very image of his offspring, Starburst—lifted his head. An instant later he dropped into the grass, startling the mares nearest to him.

James urged his mount into a smooth, easy canter. Spock saw the rope begin to swing. The brown and white pinto heard him coming and turned her head in time to receive the well-thrown loop. Taken by surprise, she jerked her neck and reared, slashing at the air with her hooves, but the movements only served to tighten the snare. James secured the rope to his saddle horn, pivoted his horse, and took off for the trailhead. The captured pinto had no choice but to trot behind him. Her foal nickered loudly, and after a moment of confusion, decided to follow.

Spock was impressed with the display of his son's riding and roping skills.

"Well, there's your Vulcan cowboy," T'Naisa said with a laugh. "We better move on before he tramples us."

Spock urged his horse up the path. Loose pebbles clattered down a sheer drop, then the trail turned away from the valley rim and widened considerably. From below, he heard James and his wild captive coming. One misstep on that narrow spot and the struggling pinto could fall over the edge, dragging James along to his death. Spock resisted an urge to double back. There was nothing he could do but follow instructions and clear the way. Regretting that he had not wished his son "good luck", he sent up a silent prayer and made it to the safety of the mountain cleft. T'Naisa emerged behind him on Sultan. Mere seconds later, James burst from the trail and reined in. The roped pinto bucked and reared impotently, then stood trembling with her foal close beside her.

James laughed, his face flushed with excitement. "You're mine now, girl! Father, T'Naisa, did you see that?"

"Indeed we did," Spock said proudly.

From this day on, he would never look at his son in quite the same way. The newfound respect he felt for James gave him fresh hope for the future of his family. Of course, they were none of them perfect, himself included. Each individual held his or her own measure of weakness, but with love came forbearance and moments such as this, when all in the world seemed well.

"What fun!" T'Naisa said with a toss of her red hair.

And the three of them started for home together.

oooOOooo