Rebecca Bryan was bent over a hot fire as she prepared the evening meal, but her mind was not on the task before her. She was listening with every fiber of her being at the discussion taking place in the next room. She was the only woman privy to this discussion, and the only reason she had not been sent out with the others had to do with the fact that most folks didn't really see her as a person; they looked at her and saw a servant. It was something she had become accustomed to over time. When she had been sold, she had become somewhat invisible. She overheard the most surprising conversations and saw some pretty interesting interactions in the years since she had been bound over. She was used to being cast aside.

As she grew older, she began to relish her ability to disappear - for an unprotected female bond servant is forever in a precarious situation. She prayed that no one would take special notice of her. The only reason her virtue had remained intact was her ability to sleep with one eye open, and her good friend Helene's warnings. Her very first night with her second owner she had witnessed first-hand the horrors that could befall a bound girl. After that, she and Helene always snuck out and next door to the hospice. Their help was needed and welcomed, and over time the Sisters recognized their need for nightly protection. It was the longest and most horrible six months of Rebecca's life. She had actually burst into tears of joy when he had been forced to sell off all his possessions - including the bond slaves.

She listened now, as the settlement debated how to handle Lars and his brother Hans, who had admitted to encroaching on the sacred Shawnee lands. They had hoped no one would take notice. Now, they recognized too late, the foolishness of their choice and the danger it brought to all of them. Lars, the older brother, was determined to return his pelts to the Shawnee and offer his apologies, but his younger brother Hans, was terrified. He was afraid that the Shawnee would kill them both on sight, and it was a possibility. Lars had a wife and two small children and yet he was ready to accept the consequences of his error arguing that although his death might pain them, it would at least protect them from further harm. Hans did not take the same view. The arguments went round and round and after a while Rebecca tuned them out feeling they were getting nowhere.

She was surprised when she recognized that things had grown quiet and realized suddenly that things had been quiet for some time.

"Miss?"

She looked up to find Daniel Boone standing before her. She wiped her hands on her apron and stood before him with eyebrows raised expectantly.

"I hope we didn't disturb ya much with our arguing. It isn't fittin' to behave so in front of women folk and such." He shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

"Oh, it didn't disturb me. When you are a serving girl, folks say all kinds of things. They forget you are there." She waved a dismissive hand at him. "I guess it must be how a chair or a table feels - think of all the things those benches out there have witnessed." She smiled up at him. "Are you hungry? What did you decide anyway?"

"You aren't a table or a chair." He said seriously and she felt her face burn with color.

"Hungry?" She asked again trying to deflect him.

"You aren't." He stepped closer to her so that he was just a half-step away from her, and she could feel her heart race. "That's why I came to apologize." His voice was soft. "You should be protected from such arguing."

She blinked at him trying to think of something to say; something clever to tease him, or some argument to disagree, but instead she said simply, "Thank you." He nodded then, and leaning on the table behind him, smiled at her.

"No, thank you for the food. I've got some planning to do. We are going to meet them. We finally convinced Hans. Yadkin's keeping an eye on him in case he gets it in his head to bolt." He grinned at her. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"It is dangerous." She said looking at him feeling suddenly fearful - more fearful than she had felt when the Shawnee braves had stood before them.

"Yep, but Grey Beaver is a reasonable man. Most folks are."

"Still, you could be walking into a trap."

"I reckon so." He stood up and cut the distance between them and put a hand on her arm. "You got tears in your eyes." He said wonderingly.

"I just . . .I . . ." She fumbled for words embarrassed. She never cried. Never. "I just wouldn't want you to . . . I would miss you if something happened." She managed at last, but she kept her eyes down, unable to look up at him.

"I always come back, Rebecca. Always. That's a promise." She still kept her face down, and was shocked when he reached out with gentle fingers and lifted her chin so that she met his eyes. "Ya hear?"

"Yes." She said gently. "You promise it, Dan?"

"I do." He said and then leaning forward he kissed her for the very first time.

After a time, he stepped back and away from her leaving her surprised, happy and breathless.

"I best go." He said still holding her hand in his. "You save me some of that stew, would ya?"

"Yes." She managed to find her voice.

"I'll see you later then. I'll be back before ya know it. Don't fret none." He reached out with his long fingers and ran a gentle hand across her cheek before pausing to tuck a wild hair behind her ear. He turned and strode out of the kitchen on his impossibly long legs leaving her standing, watching him joyful and fearful all at the same time.