TEN

Grace sat at the table across from Rebecca a coffee cup in her hand. Grace was greatly relieved because so far she had managed to keep Rebecca distracted from asking where Daniel and Matthew had gone.

"You ever drink tea?" Grace asked with wrinkled brows.

"It wouldn't be very loyal to America now, would it?" Rebecca said with a laugh. "You think I'm secretly a loyalist?"

"No. I just thought you probably had tea back in Ireland."

"I haven't seen the old country since I was a child. My mother could never afford tea." Rebecca sighed. "So, are you going to tell me now?"

"What?" Grace set her cup down.

"Where did they go? What is going on?" Rebecca asked.

"I think Matthew was having trouble with something and wanted Daniel to have a look." Grace responded vaguely.

"Grace Bradley! You are the worst liar. Now, I know I haven't been the most attentive person these last few weeks, but I'm not completely daft. What is he trying to hide from me?"

"If your husband is trying to hide something from you, then I suppose you ought to take it up with him." Grace said. "Or, you could just trust us - trust him - and leave it alone."

Rebecca sat back in her chair with her arms crossed her eyes fixed on Grace, but saying nothing.

"You've never left anything alone, have you?" Grace asked wearily.

"No. Not even once." Rebecca said with a soft smile.

"Oh! But it is good to see you smile!" Grace said reaching across the table and taking Rebecca's hand.

Tears filled Rebecca's bright, blue eyes. "I ought not to smile." She whispered. "People would talk."

"Since when does it matter to you what they say?" Grace said. "You smile. You cry. You laugh. You do whatever you need and let the talkers talk. They will no matter what you do. It is none of their business." Grace said sharply.

"I know I should be grateful for the days we were given, and oh, he was the sweetest baby!" Rebecca wiped tears from her eyes. "But I am so greedy. I wanted more." She met Grace's eyes who nodded her agreement silently.

"It isn't greed, Rebecca." Grace sighed. "This is why you should let this go, Becky. Just trust him. Leave it alone. You've enough to manage."

"And what of him?" Rebecca asked with a raised eyebrow. "Who'll manage things for him?"

"He's the great and mighty Daniel Boone!" Grace said with a wry shake of her head. "What could he possibly need help with?"

"He blames himself - that he wasn't here. He is angry. He thinks he betrayed me. He thinks he acted just like . . ." Becky sighed. "But he's the Great and Might Daniel Boone, you are right about that! He won't talk about it, or this - whatever this is. And what am I to do? What would a good wife do?"

"A good wife would hold her tongue and wait." Grace said.

"Oh, but Grace, you and I have never been good wives." Rebecca's grin revealed a dimple.

"No, we never have." Grace agreed with a sigh.

***DB***

He heard Matt's footsteps behind him.

"Quit following me!" He barked out angrily. "My mind won't be changed!"

"You think I'm gonna persuade you! I'd be mor'n happy to hold him down for you while you gave 'em what for!"

"Then why are you following after me?" Daniel asked, still irritated.

"My wife is at your place. You think she should walk back through this dark night alone?"

"I'm . . .I . . .I've forgot my manners, Matt. Forgive me." Daniel sighed. "Every time he shows up I get so . . ." He ran through his thick, brown hair in frustration.

"When I asked for Grace's hand, her father met me at the front door with a shotgun." Matt said. "I never could convince him I was good enough for her." He shrugged. "I don't know. I sort of agree with him. I'm not."

"Timothy Bryan didn't care enough to consider who might marry her. It ain't the same Matt. He's selfish. He thinks of himself first - never her. The way he just traipsed about wherever his heart pleased - -just expecting them to be at home waiting. It ain't the way a man should behave."

"I understand your anger. I feel the same way when I think on it, but Daniel, it isn't only him you are angry with." Matt said pointedly.

"I don't know what you mean . . ." Daniel turned from him and began to walk toward home again.

"You know exactly what I mean. What you said to him about not being there to see his flesh and blood put into the earth. It weren't him alone you were railing at." Matt tried to keep his tone calm.

"It ain't yer business." Daniel said and shaking his head continued quickly toward home and away from Matt.

***DB***

She awoke in darkness; alone. It wasn't as if either of them had been sleeping all that well, but he had returned from his visit with Matt brooding, silent; almost angry. It frightened her. The days after James' murder had been so difficult - the only time in their married life when she'd felt apart from him, and she didn't want to go through that again; couldn't bear it.

She rose, and pushing her long hair over her shoulders went out into the common area of the cabin, but he wasn't there. She stood on the porch looking out at the bright stars wondering where he could be, but then she could see his familiar outline in the distance and seeing where he stood she thought, "Of course."

She walked barefoot in the moonlight to the little hill where he'd put the stones. There was a beautiful oak near the rise of the hill which is where he'd put the first stone; for James. He sat with his back against the tree, and looked so lonesome and sad that she'd had to swallow down tears before sitting down beside him.

"You ought to be sleepin'." He said hoarsely.

"So should you." She said nothing but reaching out ran her hand along the familiar line of his steady jaw.

"Remember that time, you and Mingo got trapped in that cave - waiting out that band of Choctaw? She asked him after a few minutes.

"Yep." He said turning to her confused.

"And when you finally came home, I was gone to visit Vera. I'd waited and waited for you, but you were weeks late and I had promised to help her when the baby came. I felt just terrible about it. I knew that as soon as I left, you'd come home to an empty house. I hated what you would think."

"You left a note. It explained things. And I was late." He said running his hand over her back. "Becky, why are you . . ."

"I felt so guilty." She interrupted him. "Like I'd done something wrong. And I was so angry that you came back with that cut on your arm, and I wasn't there to doctor it." She shook her head. "Every time I see that scar I still feel it; the guilt of not being here."

"Oh." He said, understanding her now. He moved slightly away from her. "It ain't the same, Rebecca."

"You told me that there was no way for me to know that you'd been hurt. You told me that I ought not to feel guilty for something I had no control over." She turned and met his eyes. "What is so different about it, Dan?"

"Becca, I'm supposed to." He stopped himself feeling the anger rising. "I'm just like him. I judge him so harshly in my heart and there's no difference betwixt him and me. I am a wanderer too."

"Who?" She asked her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"I'm gone more than I should and why? To prove I'm the bigger man - that these people can't manage things without Daniel Boone to show 'em the right way." He rose and moved away from her, turning his back to her. "And what do I leave you with? This garden here!"

"Daniel," She rose and crossed to him, a gentle hand on his arm. "What happened? Why did Matt come to see you? What are you hiding from me?"

He turned and faced her then. "Timothy is here, Becky. He's come to see you, again. I thought I could . . . I wanted to protect you. You are so fragile still, Becky and I can't have him come and . . ." He swallowed hard, a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You are nothing like him. Is that what you think?" Her eyes held shock, and she stepped away from him.

"He's wanderer and I am too. I'm gone more than I'm home. He left you alone to face things without him, and I have too, Rebecca." He hung his head low. "You are just blinded by your love for me. You don't see it. I'm just like him, ah grah."

"No." She said again and he was surprised by the anger in her voice. No, Dan. He made promises that he never kept. He left without a backward glance."

She turned toward him and saw how small he looked; hunched over with shame. She stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. "Daniel you always come home to me; always. And if you had known Patrick was sick you would never, ever have left."

"Don't . . ." He gasped out, a hand covering his eyes. "Don't make excuses for me."

"Daniel! If you had known would you have stayed away?" He said nothing and she repeated. "Would you have left me to bury him alone if you had known? Answer me, Dan!"

"No." He said in a whisper. "Never."

"That's why you aren't like him. He would. A friend of my mother's found him and told him about Siobhan and he told him that we were better off without him and that he couldn't face it - it would be too painful. He knew she was gone and chose to stay away." She moved closer so that she leaned against his long body. "You are nothing like him. You have never hurt me the way he did. Never."

"But I wasn't here." He gasped out feeling ashamed as tears fell from his green eyes.

"But you are here now." She whispered. "And even when you are far away I still feel you. Ta mo grah chroi istigh ionat. You are here, Dan; always."

"I wish I could've held him one more time. I wish . . ." He accepted her embrace at last burying his face in her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, kissing him.

"I am so sorry for that, mo chroi. I can't say how sorry I am! But he knew how much you loved him. He knew his Pa loved him more than anything."

He was incapable of any words, so overwhelmed by her loving forgiveness. He'd been so frightened. Looking at Timothy Bryan felt like looking into a looking glass and he did not like what he saw reflected there. He thought of all the times when he'd made the choice to stay a few days longer - never really frightened that she wouldn't be there when he finally did wander back. He understood all too well, her father's longing to roam far and wide. She was correct there were differences between the two of them. He would never make some of the choices that her father had. He would never choose the road over her as Timothy had. She had told them of the words she'd overheard between her parents the last time he'd left - how her mother had begged him to stay. If Rebecca asked him, he would never leave again - he supposed that what amazed and wounded him most - she never would ask him to stay - even if it was the very thing she wanted most. Her devotion simultaneously strengthened and shattered him. She trusted him to never betray her - even though she'd been betrayed by her own father.

He lifted his head and holding onto her shoulders met her beautiful eyes, his own still clouded by tears, "'Becca, I don't love nothing on this wide world 'cept you. I don't care 'bout nothing else. They can burn that fort to the ground and erase my name from all them books. I won't never leave you alone like that. I won't. I'll be a farmer if you want."

She laughed out loud, and reaching out put her hands on either side of his face, "Daniel! I love you with all my heart, but you are the worst farmer the world has ever seen!" She leaned in and kissed him. "You are the long-hunter. I know this." She smiled up into his face. "But you are my long-hunter, and when the hunt is over you come home to me; always."

"Go deo." He said. "You are in my heart forever."

"I am." She said smiling at him, and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him toward her again for another kiss. "And you are in mine."