Misguided

by Mme Curie

Connor seeks to strike a balance between managing the battle against the Templars and making room for love. Contains adult themes including violence and sexual interactions between characters. Takes place some two years after the events of ACIII.

14. Chapter 14

Return

Author's note: Portions of this chapter have been removed to comply with the site's policy on explicit content. See my profile for the location of the unedited version.

Sonehso:wa wakes to the sound of someone walking across the creaking floor of the house. Sunlight is streaming into the living room where he and Anika lie on the couch. He is surprised he slept so well, considering he is once again inside one of these thick-walled structures. Maybe it is the presence of the lovely, golden haired creature asleep on top of him that kept him so distracted from his usual concerns. His right foot is cold where it rests on the floor and Anika has shifted over so that her head lies on the side of his chest, almost dangling. Her hair spills from her head, some partially over his arm on her back, the rest in a magnificent halo that pools on his chest and flows off the side of the couch, split by her left arm where it hangs almost straight down towards the floor. Bruises surround the delicate bones at the upper, outer edge of her shoulder and travel in a wide stripe part way down the front of her arm in a jarring combination of dusky blues and purples, fading to brown and yellow on the edges. Her right hand is still between his side and the back of the couch. Sonehso:wa's left leg is numb from Anika's weight resting on his hip and his upper body is chilled where she is not in contact with him.

The footsteps seem to be coming from where he had originally been set up in the sitting room before he heard Anika dreaming in the night. They come toward the living room and Sonehso:wa turns his head toward the open door, his heart rate increasing. All his weapons are where he left them in the other room and he would have to push Anika off of him to defend them in any way. Isaac appears in the doorway and Sonehso:wa exhales in relief. The men regard each other and Isaac lowers Sonehso:wa's bedroll onto the floor near the fireplace. Inside the roll, he can see his weapons and bag. Isaac stokes the fire and eyes Sonehso:wa and Anika on the couch again with a mixture of amusement and sternness before shutting the door behind him with a click. Sonehso:wa raises his right hand and runs his fingers through his hair on the side of his head, willing his heart to slow down. Recalling the time he spent time with Isaac in this city, he wonders what the man is thinking, having witnessed him kiss his niece and now here he is with a lookalike of his daughter sprawled across him, both of them in a state of partial undress. Sonehso:wa pulls together his usual self confidence and reminds himself that Anika is not Isaac's daughter and he had no intentions of coming back to dally with Christie to begin with.

Anika stirs and bends her dangling left elbow up with a gasping wince. Sonehso:wa lowers his hand to her arm and helps her bring it up onto his chest as she sits back. He slides his hand down to hers and lightly strokes her fingers, stealing glances at her breasts from time to time. Her cotton shift, though opaque, is made of thin material and he can just make out the shape of her nipples through the fabric.

"How did you sleep?" she asks him.

"Well enough. I do not like being inside these kinds of places." He runs his fingers up and down her back and changes the subject.

"I cannot feel my leg anymore." He grins and presses his hand against the small of her back and hip when she tries to move off of him.

"I do not mind. Only because it is you." he laughs. Anika smiles and lowers her eyes to his chest. Skin the color of earthen pottery, smooth and unblemished, invites her to touch it as she pulls her right hand out from the side of the couch. With just her fingertips she makes contact with his left shoulder, following a slightly raised vein that runs the length of his upper arm under his skin. The skin on the underside of his arm is softer than she is expecting and she enjoys the feel of it as she brings her fingers back up to his shoulder. Hesitantly, she slides her hand diagonally down to his sternum, pushing a section of his hair along with her thumb. Stealing a glance up at Sonehso:wa's face, she finds him watching her intently, his lips bearing the faintest hint of a smile and his shadowed eyes meeting hers expectantly as if to say, "Why did you stop?" She slides her fingers to the side of his neck and takes the section of his hair she had been moving in her hand. When she turns her hand palm up, the black, shiny strands slip between her fingers and she runs them through the length of it, letting it fall across the pillow and beside his arm. Sonehso:wa breathes in deeply as she places her palm on his chest just above his dark nipple. His eyes close for a moment and his head relaxes back into the pillow, making the muscles in his neck stand out in a 'V' shape on either side of his throat. They meet at the pronounced dip between his curving collarbones and are crossed by his white, fitted necklace.

"Thank you," she whispers, looking up at him from below her eyelashes. Sonehso:wa lifts his head and opens his eyes, looking inquiringly at her.

"For what?" Anika lowers her face.

"For stopping those men and fixing my arm. For staying with me last night and…" A blush creeps over her face, flushing her neck and chest and Sonehso:wa understands her perfectly, amused by her shy embarrassment.

"Always, Jitkwa:'e." He moves his hand from her hip to the back of the couch and pulls himself up to a sitting position before taking her in his arms. A burst of prickling discomfort shoots down his leg at the movement and he curls his toes and flexes his foot in an effort to reduce the sensation and get blood back to his extremity. Anika rests her forehead against his neck but sighs as the sounds of the Young family moving about fill the house. Sonehso:wa kisses her head just behind her ear.

"It is better that we get up now. If I kiss you again, we would not leave this room for a very long time. I do not think Mr. and Mrs. Young would like that." he whispers, his lips grazing the edge of her ear. Anika gasps, excitedly scandalized at his tantalizing innuendo and pulls back to look at his face. His smirk is heavily suggestive and he laughs quietly in his throat at her narrow-eyed expression. She cannot help smiling back. The prospect of spending an extended period of time being intimate with him floods her body with the now familiar tingling warmth of desire. He reaches up to her face and traces a finger down her cheek and neck, across her collar bone to her shoulder and then down along the neckline of her shift, his fingertip just under the lacy edge of the fabric. When he crosses over the front of her breast, he slows down and Anika closes her eyes, willing him to stop and place his hand fully on her. When he moves on and takes his hand away she is left feeling wildly bereft. She sighs in disappointment.

"Later, Jitkwa:'e, when we have no one waiting for us." He brushes his lips over hers and slides himself backwards on the couch, pulling his leg out from behind her. The loose pants he is wearing do nothing to hide his arousal yet he shamelessly stands, walks to his mat and crouches down to unroll it and gather his usual clothing. His bare back and broad shoulders are lean and muscular, his hair only partly hiding the deep valley of his spine, the long muscles flanking it ending in two points just above his pants. Only when he approaches the door to the room and opens it does he lower his bundle of clothing to cover himself, leaving Anika alone to get dressed for the day. Once he has left, Anika raises her right hand to her chest and clasps the neckline of her shift, pressing her wrist hard against her breast. She leans against the couch and tips her head back, squeezing her thighs together in an unsuccessful attempt to control the urgent throbbing between her legs.

The dress Bethany had provided her, like the cotton shift she is wearing, is one of the remaining items she has of her daughter's. Unlike the shift, it is too tight. Anika is unable to close the buttons over her bust. With a sigh, she unbuttons it and pulls her arms out, letting the dress hang from her hips. She reaches behind her back, unties the upper lacing of her corset and takes a deep breath. When she lets it out, she holds it, tugging as hard as she can on the lacing and pulling it as tightly as her body and her injured shoulder will allow. By the time she has tied it again, she feels faint from holding her breath and her shoulder is burning. It takes a considerable amount of time for her to catch her breath with her lungs so restricted. When she tucks the laces away and tries the dress on again the buttons close up easily, without even a hint of strain. What a relief! Looking down at herself, Anika smoothes her hands over the material, admiring the fine lace edging on the sleeves and the crisp, slightly shiny quality of the dark, emerald green fabric. A subtle striping in the weave gives a flattering dimension to the dress. It is well made and though it is just a tiny bit too long for her, Anika finds it lovely. The delicate scent of dried flowers rises to her nose from the fabric. She wishes she could have known the woman who wore it last. She says a silent prayer for the soul of the dead woman.

Without a mirror, it is difficult for Anika to know if her hairstyle is satisfactory but she has styled it this way so often that her fingers know each section of plait and where it needs to be pinned. She runs her fingers over the part down the middle of her head and the coiled mass of braids pinned at the nape of her neck. It will have to do. With her left hand, she picks up a section of her skirts and pads barefoot over to the door. She opens it and the sounds of morning fill her ears; Bethany in the kitchen cooking, the slam of the back door and Isaac stomping his feet as he comes inside from doing household chores. The shriek of a child… That is unexpected. A red faced boy of about three or four is running toward her, his arms outstretched and a continuous shrill wail coming from him. He crashes into her legs as she walks down the hall and tries to climb her body, crying. Anika is stunned for a moment but then she bends down and the child throws his arms around her neck.

"Mama! Mama!" he screams into her chest. The sound of something clattering onto the floor comes from the kitchen and in Anika's peripheral vision, she catches sight of Bethany leaning her back against the counter, both of her hands covering her mouth. She is weeping and Isaac's face looks haggard as he slowly approaches them. Sonehso:wa comes into sight from another room and stops short, observing the scene in shocked silence. Anika meets his eyes across the distance and is confused until she remembers that the woman whose dress she is wearing was the Young's daughter. This must be… their grandson. Oh, what cruelty it must be for this child to see her in his mother's dress! Isaac kneels by her side and gently tries to extricate the boy from Anika.

"Ethan, come to Pappy, come to Pappy." The boy takes in an enormous, shuddering breath.

"Nooooooo!" The scream is guttural in its ferocity, seeming to come from deep in his belly, and it goes on forever as he clings to her, his nails digging into the skin of her neck and his eyes squeezed shut. It tapers off into gasping sobs and hiccups.

"It's alright, Mr. Young. Let him stay." She gathers the child up, supporting his weight under his bottom with her right arm and placing her left hand on his shoulders. Isaac helps her get to her feet. The boy wraps his legs around her waist and shoves his face into the corner of Anika's neck and right shoulder, his wet cheeks dampening her skin. His little body shakes as he tries to breathe and Isaac puts his hand on the boy's back, looking at Anika.

"He hasn't spoken a word, not a peep, since his parents died about a year ago. He cried for them for a while and one day, he just stopped." He passes a hand over his face, pulling on the end of his beard and looking toward his wife. She is wiping tears away with her apron and trying to regain control of herself. Turning back to Anika, he continues.

"We should have anticipated this last night. We should have tried to tell him… something. I don't know what, though. God. He thinks you're Sarah. What are we going to do?" He faces Bethany as she finally finds her composure and joins them in the hallway. Sonehso:wa seems to materialize by Anika's side. He must have tiptoed over, he was so quiet. He moves slightly behind Anika and Ethan raises his head from her shoulder to look at him.

Sonehso:wa gazes into the boy's large, brown eyes and once again is struck by the old soul looking back at him. Ethan extends his tightly closed fist from the back of Anika's neck, holding it out as he continues to pant and hiccup in her arms. Sonehso:wa brings his hand up to hold his fist but Ethan opens his fingers and the white bead drops into his palm. Sonehso:wa feels sick as he shakes his head and tries to give it back but the boy returns his hand to Anika, tucking his elbow down against her chest and burying his face in her neck again. When Sonehso:wa raises his head up from Ethan, both Isaac and Bethany are looking at him, their faces even more distraught than before. Raising the bead gravely in his hand, he is unsure what to do with it. He can't take it back. The reason he gave it to the boy still stands, even if Ethan thinks his mother has come back to him from the dead. This bead has sacred meaning now and it is anathema to repurpose such a thing. To his relief, Bethany holds her hand out for it and he gives it carefully to her. She closes her fingers around it and nods her head at him before tucking it into a pocket of her dress.

Isaac breaks the silence.

"I wish I did not have to go, but I must open the store. It is already late." He sighs and stares at his grandson. His wife rubs his arm.

"Go, then, Mr. Young. We will manage." She makes an effort to smile and he tries to say something but ends up just opening and closing his mouth. He touches Anika's unburdened shoulder lightly and gives her a weak smile and a small nod. To Sonehso:wa, he nods more firmly. Taking his overcoat, he stops at the door and turns back, hesitating. Bethany's forehead creases and she shakes her head. Nodding once again, as if he has made up his mind with determination, he opens the door, exits and shuts it without looking back. In the silence of the house, only the sounds of his receding footsteps and the snuffly breathing of the child can be heard. Anika shifts her feet and adjusts Ethan in her arms. His grasp tightens briefly around her neck.

"If I could sit down somewhere…" she says. Bethany seems to come awake.

"Yes, of course. Come into the dining room. I will make some tea. Are you hungry?" She moves her attention between her two guests.

"A little. Thank you, Mrs. Young." Anika is not hungry at all but for the sake of giving the flustered woman something to do, she acquiesces. Sonehso:wa pulls out a chair for Anika and she lowers herself carefully into it, making sure not to sit on either of Ethan's bare feet. They dangle from her hips and he slumps against her with a sigh, his bottom sticking out and his back arched. After his stressful experience, he seems to have exhausted himself. Sonehso:wa pulls a chair over from the end of the table and joins Anika, sitting with his knees facing her left side. He rests his left arm on the table and leans on it, watching Anika as she holds the boy in her lap and softly sings a lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was small. She strokes Ethan's light brown, childish curls where they hang past his shoulders, the tie that had been holding them neatly now off to the side and snarled in a section of his hair. Anika works it free and places it on the table. She stops singing and looks at Sonehso:wa.

"What did you give to Mrs. Young?" she whispers.

"A bead. I gave it to Ethan when I was here before. I told him it was to remember his parents." He shakes his head.

"He gave it back to me. I cannot take it. It is for Sarah and her husband's spirits." Anika nods even though she does not understand his beliefs. She appreciates religious tradition and is a little fascinated by Sonehso:wa's foreign convictions. She tries to rationalize.

"Maybe… with time… I don't know. This is a tricky situation." Ethan heaves a sigh in his sleep, his arms slipping from Anika's neck and hanging from his shoulders. He turns his head on her breasts and then is still. Anika softly touches the pink, wrinkled skin of his scarred hand and resumes the soothing lullaby. Bethany emerges from the kitchen with a pot of tea and some mugs. She puts them on the table and then lowers herself to look at her sleeping grandson. She strokes his flushed, sweaty cheek lightly with her finger.

"My little angel. Who could imagine such a small thing could contain so much pain for so long?" She looks up at Anika.

"Bless you, my dear. Even though we have to tell him, at least he could have one last pleasant memory of his mother. God knows tis a mercy. A ship was taking passengers and cargo to New York and both Sarah and her husband Matthew were on it with Ethan to go visit some of Matthew's family in the city. Some kegs of powder caught fire somehow and exploded. Sarah and Matthew were both killed by the explosion but Ethan was thrown from Sarah's arms. A man saw it happen, took Ethan and jumped into the water with him before the entire ship caught fire. When we heard about it, we thought there was no hope but when we reached the farm where a makeshift hospital had been set up, there he was with his arm all wrapped up and a bandage on his head. I had hoped he would be too young to remember them..." Bethany's voice cracks and Anika does not know what else to do but put her arm around the woman's back.

Sonehso:wa meets Anika's eyes over Bethany's head. She is distressed by the story of Ethan's parents' deaths so he does his best to lend her his strength until Bethany wipes her eyes and stands. Pausing to touch her grandson's cheek again, she heaves a sigh and then looks at Anika.

"Bless you," she whispers again. Turning to Sonehso:wa, she smiles and briefly places her palm against his upturned face before leaving the room. Motherly affection pours in an unbridled torrent from the woman, sweeping up everyone in her presence. Sonehso:wa couldn't help feeling like a small boy again for a moment when she had touched him. When he resumes watching Anika she gives him a small smile, her verdant eyes turned up at him briefly from beneath her light eyebrows before she kisses the head of the boy on her breast, her hands couching his limp form. It is a compelling scene and something lurches in Sonehso:wa, taking him by surprise. What if this was her child… or theirs? Sonehso:wa shakes himself from his idle thoughts. They are far from making that kind of commitment to each other. Smiling inwardly, he thinks of the reaction of the tribe to his choice. After all his prejudice from his childhood, would anyone truly believe he would take a white woman as a wife? He would face endless ridicule from his few close friends. But once they met her they would understand why.

Anika watches Sonehso:wa from the corners of her eyes. He is slouched forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his thighs with his hands between his knees. He appears deep in thought, idly spinning his bracelets on his wrists over and over with his long fingers. The carved wooden pieces of jewelry make a quiet clicking sound as they move. A tiny quirk at the corners of his mouth hints at something amusing crossing his mind. Most of his hair hangs down on the left side of his body, subtly moving with the shifting of his arms as he continues to spin his bracelets. The long, black expanse of his hair is impressive; its shining length rivaling that of a woman's, yet not taking away from his masculinity at all. It appears he had taken time that morning while she was dressing to redo his braid. It is tight and neat, without any stray hairs escaping. Even his decorative feathers appear to have been carefully groomed. Anika has a strong desire to reach for his hair and feel its luxuriant softness in her fingers again. She does not have to resist for long. Bethany returns to the table with some warm scones in a basket, blackberry preserves and maple syrup, trumping any possibility to reach over. To her surprise, Anika's stomach rumbles and she finds herself hungrier now that the urgency of the situation has faded. Sonehso:wa gets up and gives his chair to Bethany so she can be near the child, moving to the seat across the table from Anika.

Ethan stirs while they are eating, rubbing his face against Anika's chest and squirming into a sitting position facing her. Sonehso:wa watches as Bethany stiffens, her uncertainty of how to handle the situation affecting her greatly. Anika surprises them both when she addresses Ethan, deliberately increasing her accent until it is even stronger than the Zenger's and making her words almost unrecognizable as English.

"Ah, the little boy has woken."

"Mama?" Ethan looks up at her, confused. Anika smiles and shakes her head.

"No. I am not your Mutti. I only look like her." Ethan squints hard at Anika, breathing rapidly; he appears close to crying. He looks down at Anika's hands on his legs and stares at the lace edging her wrists. Plucking at it with his fingers, he wrinkles his forehead in concentration and then turns to his grandmother.

"Where is Mama?" his high pitched, childish voice is frustrated. Bethany sighs and reaches to his arm.

"She died, Ethan. So did Papa. Mama and Papa are not coming home. Do you remember when Nana and Pappy told you that a long time ago?" Ethan nods his head, looking gravely up at Anika and studying her face. Bethany speaks on Anika's behalf.

"The nice lady who only looks like Mama is named Anika. She is from Germany. That is a country very far from here and very far from England. She is a friend of Sonehso:wa's. Do you remember him?" Bethany gestures across the table and Ethan twists to look at him, wobbling slightly in Anika's lap. He nods with a seriousness beyond his years.

"He gave me a shell."

"Yes," Bethany nods, reaching into her pocket and producing it. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she offers it to him and looks at Sonehso:wa. He leans forward over the table, resting his arms on it, and speaks in a gentle voice to the boy.

"That shell is sacred… holy?" He looks at Bethany and she nods her head and he carries on.

"Keep it, Ethan. It holds the spirit memory of your parents now." He nods at the boy and stretches his right hand toward Bethany's, tapping the bead with his finger to indicate that he should take it. Ethan stretches his scarred hand out and picks up the bead, closing his fist tightly around it and bringing it to his chest. Taking one last look up at Anika, as if to be absolutely certain she is not his mother, he climbs off her lap and onto Bethany's.

"Oh, my sweet baby! I love you so much." Bethany croons, holding the boy close and kissing his head. Anika, Sonehso:wa and Bethany all share silent looks of relief that the conversation did not end up in horrible tears and trauma.

"Love you, Nana," Ethan mumbles into Bethany's bosom, and Anika struggles not to cry at the touching scene. Bethany is not so successful and allows herself the luxury of weeping for the return of her grandson's voice after so long. Anika quietly stands and Sonehso:wa joins her when she moves to the living room to give Bethany some time. She gathers the items Bethany had provided for her to repair her dress and takes a seat on the couch to work. Sitting side by side, they are silent as Anika sews, listening to the quiet conversation Bethany is having with Ethan. Sonehso:wa lounges back on the couch, watching her work and rattling the buttons Anika has removed in his cupped hand. When she has replaced all her buttons with the small silver ones she was given, including the ones still on the dress for the sake of uniformity, she returns the needle and thread to the sewing box. Tapping one of the small built in compartments on the inside edge, she looks at Sonehso:wa and he pours the small black buttons from his hand into it. On the bottom, a spool of black ribbon catches her eye. Measuring a length of it along her forearm, she lifts the ornate pair of antique chatelaine scissors she had been using and cuts it. She looks up at Sonehso:wa.

"For Ethan's bead. He can wear it around his neck and he will never lose it." Sonehso:wa sits forward.

"Should we give it to him now?" he asks. Anika pauses and listens. Bethany is laughing so Anika nods and stands, setting her dress aside. Back in the dining room, Ethan is sitting in the chair Anika had vacated. He looks up at them when they enter. Bethany smiles and Anika bends down in front of the boy. She speaks with her normal accent, not wanting to deceive the child any longer.

"I brought you something." She holds up the length of ribbon and glances at Bethany in a silent plea for permission. Bethany smiles, giving her approval.

"This is for your bead, so you can wear it as a necklace… Like Sonehso:wa. Would you like that?" Ethan nods and opens his hand holding the bead. Anika reverently takes it and strings it onto the ribbon. She reaches up and ties it around his neck, settling the bead against his chest. He looks down at it, touches it with his hands and then gets off the chair to hug Anika.

"What do you say, Ethan?" Bethany coaches.

"Thank you, Nika."

"You're welcome, Ethan." He moves to Sonehso:wa, hugging his leg before he can bend down.

"Thank you, Sosowa." In the typical style of a child, he wanders away, climbing the stairs one at a time and disappearing around a corner when he reaches the second floor. Bethany stands and takes one of their hands in each of hers.

"It's a miracle. Thank you both for being so wonderful."

"He is a brave boy. He reminds me of Raton… Connor sometimes." Bethany smiles.

"If he grows up to be like Connor then we will be happy indeed." Anika digests Bethany's words, feeling even more confident that Cat is in good hands. She respects the Young's and finds them to be good people. Their opinion of Connor is high and Anika stores it away for the times when she worries about Cat. Even now, knowing they still have days of travel before they reach her, she feels her anxiety starting to claw at her heart. She stuffs it down and tries to keep her stress from breaking free and showing itself on her face while Bethany is talking.

"Mr. Young and I were thinking that when Ethan is older, we should send him to New York or Boston to be trained. I would hate to see him go but Mr. Young says it would be good for the boy to have that kind of discipline starting at a young age. Now I see the wisdom in it." Sonehso:wa is nodding, looking serious but Anika has no idea what Bethany is talking about.

As Anika helps Bethany gather up the things from the table, Sonehso:wa passes through the kitchen to start packing up their things in living room. He had considered spending another night at the Young's but he is more inclined now to continue on to the cabin. They are not getting any closer staying here. Anika's shoulder seems to be less stiff as long as she keeps moving it and she does not favor it as much. When he is at the door to the living room, he pauses, turning to talk with the women and resting his hands on the sides of the doorframe.

"Mrs. Young, we should get some things from Mr. Young's store today."

"That's fine, Sonehso:wa. Whatever you need." Turning to face Anika, he continues.

"I think we should keep going." Anika nods and continues to dry the plate she is holding. Her trust in him appears to be absolute. He had not intended to present his opinion as the only option but rather as a way for her to express her thoughts on the matter. She should not be afraid to speak up if she wants to wait longer; she is not his to command. Rather than bring up his concerns in front of Mrs. Young, he waits for Anika to meet his eyes and then tilts his head in the direction of the living room behind him before turning and entering the room.

Sonehso:wa has organized his bedroll and weapons neatly and folded the blanket by the time Anika enters the living room. Shutting the door behind her, she approaches Sonehso:wa where he kneels on the floor by the fireplace. He stands when she comes closer and takes her arms in his hands, holding her away from him so he can look at her. Her hair is prettily braided and the way she has it styled keeps it so not even one hair escapes to cover her face. Despite the intricate work she put into it, he prefers it down and flowing around her. If it were free right now, he would take it in his fingers and fondle it. One hand drifts upwards and he touches the tightly coiled braid at the side of her neck. Her beauty has distracted him from the reason he asked her to come to him.

"Jitkwa':e, do you want to stay here another night? I did not mean to decide for you." Anika shrugs her shoulders.

"If you think we should go, then we should go." Sonehso:wa moves his hand so his thumb is on the side of her cheek.

"That is not what I asked of you." Anika smiles at his persistence.

"I want to get to Cat. As much as I like being under a solid roof again, I miss her and I won't fully believe she's alive until I see her. Does that answer your question?" Sonehso:wa squints at her.

"In a way. It is very indirect. Do not be afraid to tell me what you want. I will not make you go if you want to stay another night." Anika laughs at his sudden seriousness. It is out of character and so very unlike his usual sass and sarcasm. She puts both hands on his stomach and pushes him. He staggers backwards a step, a look of surprise on his face.

"This is coming from the man who coerced me with his friends to leave New York a week ago." Sonehso:wa squares his shoulders.

"We did not coerce you! It was to protect you…" Sonehso:wa is defensive until he sees Anika struggling to contain her laughter. A squeak escapes her and she covers her mouth with both hands to hold it in. Sonehso:wa shakes his head at her, laughing heartily. Anika extends her right hand toward him and he takes it, allowing her to pull him closer. Sonehso:wa does not stop when he reaches her. Guiding her backwards with his left hand on her hip, he advances until her legs touch the couch. He kisses her deeply and she drops onto the couch, pulling on his shirt with both of her hands so he is leaning over her. Without stopping their kiss, he places his left knee between the back of the couch and her hips and lowers her down onto the cushions, his forearms on either side of her. When they finally separate, Anika is out of breath, her tightly laced corset making it difficult to breathe. Panting, she tries to talk.

"Sonehso:wa… we shouldn't… the other door is open… Someone could see us!" In answer, Sonehso:wa reaches above her head and takes her dress from where it still lies over the arm of the couch, balls it up and throws it at the partially open door. It makes contact with a dull thud and swings it shut just enough for the latch to click. Bringing his right knee up, he nudges her left leg until she takes her feet off the floor and lies completely on the couch. Taking a brief glimpse down between their bodies, Sonehso:wa uses his knee to drag her skirt up before placing it on the couch between her legs. The green fabric is bunched over his leg and Anika's ankles and the inner sides of her calves are exposed. She tenses beneath him and her breathing is more rapid then ever. Her hands are clenched tightly on his shirt and she stares at his face. Suddenly she pulls on him, lifting her head from the couch to meet his lips. As they kiss, Sonehso:wa reaches his right hand down from beside her face, running his hand over her tightly corseted body. He can feel nothing of her soft curves he had admired earlier, the only surface reaching his fingers being the rigid bone stays of her corset running in long, hard lines down her torso. Longing to feel the softness of her flesh on his fingers, he moves lower, his hand becoming lost in the endless yards of fabric surrounding her legs. He works at gathering it upwards against her left leg as Anika's panting breaths turn into gasps that he muffles with his lips until finally, his hand comes into contact with the warm, smooth skin of her thigh. Taking a moment, he reaches down and traces his fingers from just above her knee up along the inner side of her thigh.

Anika feels faint from not being able to breathe fully. Every touch from Sonehso:wa is fire on her skin and she wants it all but is afraid much more will make her pass out from her corseted misery. As his fingers move higher on her thigh, the most exquisite surges of need and waves of warmth emanate from her body, moving along her nerves and coalescing deep in her pelvis. She feels as if thousands of glowing, silver threads are being pulled tightly between her breasts and the throbbing heat between her legs. His fingers move incrementally higher and it is nothing other than the purest, most beautiful torture when he finally brushes them over the top of her pubis. He strokes her there, slowly moving his fingers through her hair and smiling against her mouth with an eager sound as he continues to kiss her lightly.

Her hidden patch of hair is crinkly against his fingers and he loves the texture of it. Anticipating her reaction, Sonehso:wa shifts his body upwards slightly to kiss her deeply as he lowers his fingers until he feels the soft division of her flesh. Her body twitches and then bucks when he presses his middle finger down. His mouth stifles her cry. Keeping pressure against her center, he slides his finger lower and Anika takes two handfuls of his hair and pulls his face against hers, using his kiss to contain a small scream. He feels her body shaking and he has to work at controlling his hand so he can draw out her pleasure as long as possible.

He touches her with the lightest pressure he can manage while Anika's body convulses at the contact. She throws her head back, escaping his mouth and Sonehso:wa moves his finger from direct contact, afraid she is going to cry out from too much stimulation. Instead she clenches her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut. The sight of her restraint is intoxicating and he wishes they were alone in the house so he could push her beyond her control and make her scream. The moment Anika stops arching her head back he quickly recaptures her lips, bringing his left hand to her right shoulder to keep her from inadvertently breaking away again. He holds her tightly with his hand and the left side of his body on top of hers as she spasms beneath him. She bends her knees up and traps his right leg and hand between her thighs and Sonehso:wa uses fixed pressure against her, riding out her aftershocks and feeling her pelvic muscles contracting beneath his hand. When her body falls limply to the couch and her hands tumble from his hair, he takes his hand from beneath her skirts and lifts his head to stare at her flushed face. He is slightly out of breath himself and the knowledge that he will be unable to relieve his exceptionally hard erection the traditional way is making him sweat.

In the wake of the rolling waves of the most extreme pleasure Anika had ever experienced, her body feels weak and boneless. Even on the few occasions when she had been alone in her bed and had touched herself, she had never brought such uncontrollable paroxysms to her body. The peaks she had experienced those other times paled in comparison to what Sonehso:wa had just done to her. Still out of breath, she tries to raise her head to look at him. He is watching her with a satisfied smile on his face, his skin shining slightly with a sheen of sweat and his eyes a sultry black. Anika only gets a glance before a searing headache forces her to drop her head onto the couch again with a gasp. The pain passes when her head is flat and comes raging back the moment she attempts to raise it again. She lifts her hand to her head and waits, using the time to slowly catch her breath.

The sight of Anika so spent beneath him is incredibly satisfying and Sonehso:wa wishes he could spend forever bringing her to this point over and over again. He wants to expend himself in her, feeling her pleasure from the inside. No doubt she would have enjoyed it even more if she were not ensnared in that wicked contraption she seems so fond of wearing. He is unable to see how it is comfortable, especially with how difficult it seems to make her breathing. Maybe he can take it from her and fling it into the fire when she is not looking.

Anika and Sonehso:wa sit up and Anika leans on his shoulder, her hands folded in her lap in a deceptively calm fashion, still catching her breath slightly.

"That was… like nothing I have felt before…" Sonehso:wa puts his arm around her and kisses her when she looks up at him. A few stray hairs and her rumpled skirts reveal clues to their liaison but otherwise, there is no incriminating proof of it. If Bethany were to walk in, they would look as if they are having an intimate conversation.

"I am happy you enjoyed it. But that would only have been the beginning if we were alone." Anika kisses him for his sensual suggestion. Coming from any other man, it would have sounded lewd but from him, it's just a statement of fact. It would seem he is not a virgin by any stretch of the imagination. He appeared to know all too well what to do but for some reason she just doesn't care.

It is not much later, when Anika has picked up her dress she had just repaired from the floor, when Bethany knocks on the door and opens it. Sonehso:wa is rolling up his blanket into the bedroll and Anika is by the fireplace shaking out her shawl.

"Anika, I was wondering if you would want to take Ethan with you when you go to the store. Mr. Young would probably be tickled to hear him talk." Anika turns and faces the woman.

"Of course, Mrs. Young. It will be my pleasure." Sonehso:wa lowers his face to his task and smirks, thinking that he knows what is really her pleasure.

Ethan skips ahead of Anika as she walks along the road toward the Young's store, his curls neatly tied back once again and bouncing as he runs. Bethany had given her a close fitting cap to cover her golden hair but it doesn't quite hide her coiled braids. Anika isn't worried about being recognized but had agreed that caution is a wise path to follow. Sonehso:wa had suggested she choose another name, as well. After some thought, Anika had decided on her mother's name, Hanna. Though the spelling is different, no one would know that. It sounds the same as the English spelling and that is what matters. She had even done her best performance of Cat's way of speaking, imitating her accent perfectly. Sonehso:wa had looked at her strangely, for she had apparently sounded just like her. The memory of his expression makes her laugh quietly to herself as she walks. It feels good to be walking among crowds of people again. She wants to turn and look at Sonehso:wa where he follows several paces behind her but it would draw too much attention. It is better for people not to know they are together.

Anika catches up to Ethan when they reach the door to the store. He had discovered something interesting on the ground just outside it and is squatting down looking at it.

"What is it, Ethan?" Anika asks the boy and he holds up a nail from a horse shoe.

"Nail!" he states, proudly.

"What a find! Let's show it to your Pappy." Anika takes Ethan's hand and opens the door. Mr. Young looks up from his books where he stands behind the counter from a customer. He smiles at Anika and Ethan and returns to the business he was attending to. Anika leads Ethan around the shop, browsing at the goods that are for sale. She thinks on their trip and wonders what she should bring, knowing it all has to fit in Sonehso:wa's bag and not be too heavy or cumbersome. Several minutes pass, yet Sonehso:wa does not come in after them. Anika wonders what is keeping him, but assumes he is just making an effort not to be seen with her. Mr. Young's customer concludes his business and he waves them over with a smile. Anika lets go of Ethan's hand and he runs to his grandfather.

"Nail! Nail!" he shouts and Isaac scoops the child up in his arms with a jolly laugh.

"So it is, my boy, so it is. You have found your voice for good, it seems, eh?"

"Yes, Pappy." Anika draws near the counter and Isaac smiles at her.

"This is incredible! Anika, I… I have no words!" He laughs at the irony and Anika lays her hand on his arm with a smile.

"Call me Hanna here. And yes, it is a wonderful thing that has happened today! I'm so happy for you both, and Ethan, of course. He took it really well when Mrs. Young explained the truth to him."

"That's great news, Hanna." He emphasizes her alias and gives her a wink.

"Why don't you look around some more and just let me know what you want?"

"Thank you." Anika returns to browsing and Isaac sits Ethan on the counter while he waits for any other customers to come in. There is the sound of raised voices outside and Isaac lowers Ethan onto the floor behind the counter, directing him to stay there. Anika is at the far corner of the store when the door bangs open and several men dressed similarly in grey and black uniforms enter the store. The Martinez family crest adorns the left chest of each one in gold thread. Anika's heart drops and she spins to face the wall, feigning interest in the jars of preserves on the shelf. How could Sergio's men have found her? Did they see Sonehso:wa? What if they harmed him or took him into custody? A million terrifying thoughts careen through her head.

"There! Look at her hair; what luck." The men approach her and Isaac raises his voice.

"You best leave my daughter alone or I swear there will be Hell to pay!" He reaches behind the counter and appears to be resting his hand on a weapon.

"What are you going to do about it?" Two of the men round the counter and stand blocking Isaac's way out from behind it, holding pistols pointed at him. Isaac raises his hands in the air. The other three approach Anika where she stands clutching a jar of concord grape preserves to her chest and doing her best to look frightened and confused. It isn't far from how she is really feeling. One of the men grabs her arm and uses his other hand to lift her chin up so he can see her face.

"Green eyes, too. What's your name?" Anika is shaking but she affects Cat's Londoner accent when she responds.

"P-please, sirs, my name is Hanna. Please do not harm me!"

"Unhand my daughter!" Isaac roars from behind the counter. The man with his hand on her arm drags her from the shelves and pushes her toward the counter a few steps. One of the other men mumbles to him in Spanish, but Anika understands what he says.

"She doesn't have a German accent. Why cause more trouble? It isn't her."

"I'll cause trouble if I want to." Is his flippant response. He faces Isaac and roughly takes Anika's face in his hand, turning it toward the counter.

"This pretty face of hers is of interest to us. That and her green eyes and blonde hair." He pointedly looks down at her body with a vulgar sneer as he speaks.

"Rather coincidental that we are looking for a woman with those features accompanied by an Indian, and there's an Indian outside with a few newly broken ribs, I wager." Anika's eyes widen and Isaac almost imperceptibly shakes his head at her, his expression telling her not to panic. At that moment, Ethan bursts from behind the counter, dodging a grab by one of the men standing at the end. He screams at the man holding Anika and pummels his leg with his fists.

"No! I love her! Go away!" The man holding her releases Anika's face to swat at the boy. Anika's heart races that they will harm him.

"Ethan, stay away!" Somehow, she manages to maintain her feigned accent.

"No!" Dodging the man's swat, he takes two handfuls of Anika's skirt and clings to her. When one of the other men reaches down to drag him away, Anika shouts at him.

"Don't you dare touch him!" She smashes the glass jar of preserves on his head. Blood and sticky grape preserves run down his face and he raises his hands to his head, screaming.

The man holding Anika slaps her and shoves her away. She crouches down and takes Ethan in her arms, pressing his face to her chest to keep him from seeing the bloody man. Only then does the boy's bravery leave him and he bursts into tears.

"Forget it, it's not her, she didn't have a brat. Let's go." The leader calls off his men holding Isaac at gunpoint and drags their injured comrade out. He is swearing and hurling threats at Anika in Spanish, thinking she doesn't know the vile things he promises to do to her if he ever finds her alone.

As soon as the men leave, Isaac runs to Anika and Ethan and takes them both in his arms. Broken glass litters the floor and the purple preserves are seeping into the floorboards. The sound of galloping horses indicates that the men are truly gone.

"I had no idea it was this bad. If I had known, I would have insisted you stay at the house." The door bangs open again and Sonehso:wa stumbles in holding his right side with his left hand. His nose and mouth are bleeding and the left side of his body is covered in dirt but he only has eyes for Anika. He stops when he sees that there is no one left in the place but the three of them.

"Sosowa!" Ethan shrieks, seeing the blood coming from him and panicking.

"He's alright, Ethan." Isaac restrains the child as Anika rises to her feet and goes to him. Isaac calls to her.

"Go in the back room; get out of sight in case they come back." Anika leads Sonehso:wa behind the counter and through the door into the back as Isaac moves to the door and locks it, flipping his sign around.

Lighting a lantern with the flame of another, Anika brings it close to Sonehso:wa's face where he is leaning against a crate. Wiping some of the blood away with her fingers, she sees that most of it is coming from his nose. The left side of his upper lip is starting to swell and it appears that his teeth had punctured it when he had been hit.

"I am fine, Jitkwa':e. It is you I am worried about. Did they hurt you? Your cheek is red." His speech is slightly garbled from his swollen lip.

"It was just a slap. I'm unharmed. You're not." She brings the lantern to Sonehso:wa's side where he is still holding his hand against it. He resists her attempts to lift his shirt or move his hand until she glares at him. He slowly moves his hand away and Anika slides his shirt up. Two identical half moon shaped marks darken his skin one below the other. They are clear imprints of the front of a booted foot and the area is already starting to swell. Anika sucks in her breath and looks at Sonehso:wa's face, placing the lantern on the crate beside him.

"What happened?"

"I was leaning against the wall of the building and they rode up on their horses. As soon as they dismounted they attacked me. Not a word was said before one of them walked up and punched me. I dove partly behind where the horses were tied so they had a hard time reaching me. This would have been a lot worse if they had gotten me out in the open."

"Dammit!" Anika kicks the crate Sonehso:wa is sitting on, her face reddened in rage. He extends his hand to her but she crosses her arms over her body and paces away.

"You could have been anyone. How many other Indian men have they attacked? How many other women with my hair and eyes have they terrorized? They were Sergio's men; they were looking for us. I recognized the insignia on their uniforms. They held a gun to Mr. Young and I'm sure if I hadn't hit that one with the jar…." She is crying by the end of her tirade, thinking of the horror Cat must have gone through as the captive of men like that. Where does Sergio find these people?

"Anika." Anika spins to face the door, her hands in fists against her sides. Isaac is standing in the doorway holding Ethan. When she approaches him, he places his hand on her shoulder.

"You did well back there. Sonehso:wa." Isaac looks intently at each of them in turn.

"I want you both to stay here until it's dark. I'm leaving my shop closed for the rest of the day. Do not go near the windows; do not leave. I'll get your things from the house and bring them to you. Once the streets have emptied, you are to leave the city under the cover of night. I will take no chances of something else happening."

"What if they are watching this place?" Sonehso:wa questions Isaac.

"There is a door in the back that connects to the next building. I will ask the owner if we can use it. I know he won't refuse me."

The afternoon passes slowly. Isaac had left shortly after their conversation, taking Ethan and locking the door behind him. He had cleaned up the mess on the floor but the stain on the floorboards remains. A few customers had knocked on the door or peered through the windows, ignoring the closed sign but each one had given up after only a short time. The sliver of sunlight that stretches into the storage room from the partially opened door shifts over the floor and casts longer and longer shadows as the sun lowers toward the horizon. Sonehso:wa lies stretched on the floor, his chest growing tighter as the bruises on his side continue to swell and ache. Anika does her best to make him comfortable, bringing him a folded horse blanket to rest his head on and cleaning the blood off his face. At first he had refused to lie down, insisting he felt fine but after he sneezed from the dust in the back room and Anika saw his clenched teeth, she made him, knowing he only did it because she bade it. If she had given him the choice, he would have remained on his feet. She gathers a few things for their travels while they wait, collecting them together on top of the crate in a small pile. It is mostly dried meats and cheese. They have nothing to cook in and bringing anything to do so would only make their load heavier and unwieldy. After staring at the pile for over an hour, she adds a small bar of soap, knowing it is a luxury that will take up precious space.

When the sky is full of stars and the sounds of pedestrian traffic has stilled to almost nothing, the loud grating of the key turning in the door startles Anika from her nap. Lifting her head from where it had been resting on her arms, she watches as Sonehso:wa gingerly rises to his feet beside her, a grimace on his face and his hand over his side. Isaac meets him at the door carrying his bag and another in his hands.

"I brought your things. Bethany insisted that I give you some of Sarah's clothes. She offers her best wishes to you both and is very upset about what happened. Ethan was pretty shaken up but he's still talking."

"Thank you, Mr. Young. Your kindness will not be forgotten." Sonehso:wa takes the bags from Isaac, crossing the strap of his over his chest so the bag rests on his left hip. Anika takes the other bag full of clothes from him before he can loop it onto his body as well.

"Is that all you're taking with you?" Isaac eyes the collection of food on the crate with skepticism.

"When we are farther from the city, there will be more animals to hunt. It will be enough." Sonehso:wa assures him as he loads the items into his bag and ties it shut.

"Don't be proud, son. That injury will slow you down." Anika steps closer and lays a hand on Sonehso:wa's arm.

"We'll manage, I am sure, Mr. Young."

"If you insist. I don't want you starving on the way. Though Connor will probably want to kill me anyway when he finds out I failed him."

"You had no choice. Ratonhnhake:ton will not want to kill you."

"It's a manner of speaking, Sonehso:wa. Well, this isn't how I had planned on sending you off. Follow me." Isaac leads them to the back corner of the storage room with one of the lanterns and moves some heavy crates aside so he can access a hatch low in the wall. Producing an old key, he unlocks it and hauls it open on its rusty hinges. He reaches inside with a second key and turns another lock. The door won't budge. Sitting back, he extends his legs and kicks the door. It shifts open a few inches.

"Heh, Colin said he wasn't sure if he had anything heavy in front of it. I guess he did." He gives the door a few more kicks until it is open enough to crawl through. When his feet disappear, Anika frowns and hikes her skirts up indecently over her knees and scrambles through, trying to keep the dress from dragging through the layers of dust. Sonehso:wa goes through last, getting to his feet slowly. His face is expressionless and Anika wants to weep for his concealed pain. While Isaac is unlocking the door to the outside, Anika takes his right arm in her hands and squeezes it, kissing his shoulder. Sonehso:wa covers her hand with his and attempts to smile for her sake but it falls flat.

Outside, the air is chilly and their breath mists as they breathe. The grey horse is tied up in the alley between two buildings, Sonehso:wa's sleeping mat and blanket already lashed to the back. He wordlessly walks to the horse and removes his bag, holding his hand toward Anika for her to give him hers as well. She complies and he goes about securing them to the horse. When he is done, Isaac approaches him.

"I know you two will be fine. Take care of her, son, she really is like a daughter to us now. I hope we can see you both again under better circumstances." Isaac looks fondly at Anika and she lowers her head, embarrassed. Sonehso:wa nods and mounts the horse, somewhat less gracefully than he usually does. As Anika holds out her hands to Isaac to bid him farewell, the man takes her in his arms and hugs her instead.

"Mr. Young, you and your wife have been so kind. Thank you."

"My dear, we should be thanking you. You gave us back our grandson. For that, we're in your debt forever. Sarah would have liked you." His voice is choked and Anika kisses him on his bearded cheek. Isaac guides her to the horse with his hand on her elbow and then lifts her up behind Sonehso:wa. The green dress covers her legs better than her blue dress had, and Anika has little trouble adjusting her skirts quickly. She tucks her shawl around her shoulders and smiles down at Isaac.

"Give Ethan a kiss for me, Mr. Young. Tell him I'll miss him."

"I will. Now go!" Sonehso:wa nods at his command and Anika puts her hands on the sides of his waist, being careful not to touch anywhere near his injured ribs. The horse seems eager to go and leaps into motion the moment Sonehso:wa gives him his heels.

The skies are cloudy, dark and threatening rain, making Sonehso:wa anxious. Since leaving Albany several days ago, the weather had held and the temperature had been brisk but not frigid. The nights had been colder but nothing like what they had experienced on the way out of New York. The first night after leaving Albany had been the most difficult for him. His body had protested every movement, and there were many, he came to realize. So used to riding horses, he had been unaware of just how many of the muscles in his side were essential to balancing on a moving animal. When they had finally stopped to rest for a few hours, he dreaded what the morning would bring. His fears were not unfounded. From the moment he woke, his side was on fire. Anika insisted on looking at his injuries that morning and he had reluctantly given in to her request knowing she would not like what she saw. The bruises had darkened and spread, covering almost all of the side of his chest from just under his armpit to halfway down his waist and the two places where he had been kicked were nearly black. His skin was unnaturally puffy and the lines of his ribs and muscles had become indistinct or obliterated completely by the swelling. Anika had merely frowned once and turned away but he knew the sight disturbed her greatly.

As the days had passed, the swelling had mercifully gone down, giving him the most relief to his discomfort. He found himself more interested in talking instead of using all his energy to contain any outward display of his agony. His bruising had dissipated into a large ring of discoloration defining the outer borders of his original area of swelling, the center still marked by darker blotches and two persistent, hard lumps under his skin. It only hurt if he actively touched them, so he avoided doing anything that would press against his side. Isaac had been correct in predicting that his injuries would limit his ability to hunt. For three days, he had not been able to shoot anything with accuracy. The act of pulling his bowstring was excruciating and it made him sweaty and unfocused when he felt a grating movement in his side as his muscles worked. He had probed the area with his fingers, nearly faint with pain, and had determined that at least two or three ribs had been damaged. It angered him that he could not provide for Anika as a man should, having to rely on their supplies more heavily than he had anticipated. It would be better for him to be dead than useless. Anika had been patient with him, putting up with his silence and irritation with poise and compassion. She made sure to be careful where she put her hands while riding and whenever she had kissed him she never forgot to avoid the area where his lip had been cut.

With the clouds comes a light drizzle that permeates the air like mist. It settles into every surface, chilling them both even when they walk beside the horse. Sonehso:wa knows they are within only a couple days of the cabin at most and after being away for so long, he finds himself anxious to be back. The raw weather wears on their patience with each other with its inconvenience and Anika shivers with a sigh behind him. As if it were a cue, the skies open up, letting loose a deluge of rain. Sonehso:wa laughs cynically and shakes his head. Anika rests her head on his back and pulls on his wrap with a loud exclamation of frustration. Only a short time later the partially collapsed cabin Sonehso:wa had seen before comes into sight through the trees. Though there are still hours remaining in the day, he steers the grey horse toward it.

"We will stop here and take shelter until the rain stops."

"Oh, thank GOD!" Anika groans.

The uncollapsed side of the cabin is filled with leaves and broken furniture. The other side is completely inaccessible where the roof is in ruins. A rivulet of water pours steadily from a section of the rotted roof on the corner of the chimney in the destroyed section of the cabin and splashes onto the floor near the entrance, running in a small stream out the front of the cabin. An old bed sits in the corner of the structure, its sagging mattress littered with leaves and the evidence of animal occupation. Sonehso:wa crouches by the fireplace, stacks pieces of broken furniture and dried leaves together and works at getting a fire started. Anika takes the seat of a ruined chair and scrapes the scattered debris and windblown leaves together, clearing the area as much as possible and dragging it closer to the fireplace to be used for fuel. Once that is done, she inspects their supplies. Everything is soaked, with the exception of the inner area of the bedroll and blanket from being rolled up. By the time Sonehso:wa has a fire going, she has spread out most of the wettest things to dry around the room and has taken off her sodden boots. Sonehso:wa moves back from the fire when it is crackling and consuming the bits of furniture, casting off welcome heat. Anika hunches on the mat before the young fire. Her hair is soaking wet and she has her arms wrapped around her body. A steady draft of chilly air blows through the doorway next to the chimney so Sonehso:wa drags the musty, straw filled mattress off the bed and over to the opening, leaning it up against the cracked frame to keep in the warmth. He takes off his boots, weapons and wrap, checking the integrity of his bow string and distributing the items near the fire to dry.

They sit side by side and wring out their hair, sharing a smile as the drops splash onto the hearth. Anika had traded the green dress with its need for her to be tightly laced into her corset for her old blue dress that actually fits her body correctly on the first night. She had considered trying on some of Sarah's other things but had changed her mind, assuming they would all be slightly too small for her. With days of travel ahead of her, the thought of being so tightly laced the entire time had brought on a wave of anxiety. Immediately discarding the thought, she had simply loosened her corset to its normal place and pulled on the blue dress. Now the blue dress is soaking wet and she faces no other option for dry clothing. Rising to her feet, she turns her back to the fire and starts unbuttoning her dress. The wet fabric is heavy and it sticks to her arms as she pulls it off. When she pushes it down past her hips, if falls to the floor with a sloppy sound. She steps out of it and pushes it away with her foot.

Anika sighs and reaches behind her back to tighten her corset. It, too, is soaked and the knots in the strings have become swollen and tight. She blindly gropes at the knots, picking at them with her fingernails. She hears Sonehso:wa move on the mat by the fire and then his warm hands are on hers, moving her fingers from the ties as he takes her in his arms, pulling her back against his body.

"Why do you wear this thing? It changes your body and traps you inside of it."

"I have to wear it."

"Cat does not wear one." Anika gasps.

"How do you know?"

"She wears hides like me. And like Ratonhnhake:ton. Not things like this." He lifts her skirt slightly by her hip.

"I would be a spectacle if I didn't wear these clothes."

"Maybe I do not understand the custom of women wearing such restrictive clothing. I prefer seeing you as you really are, not tied up in this." He tugs on the bottom of her corset before moving his hands to her waist and stepping backwards. Lifting his fingers to the strings in the middle of her back, he starts untying the knots. As he loosens the strings, he brings his face closer to her and kisses her on her cheek before moving to her neck. Anika has her hands on her stomach, holding the corset against her body the way she used to when Cat would help her get into and out of it. With one hand, Sonehso:wa lowers her hands from her stomach and pulls up on the back of the corset with the other. Anika raises her arms and lets him take it off of her. He drops it on the mat and turns her around to face him with his hands on her hips.

"That is better. Look at you... Perfect." Anika looks down at herself. Her shift is dry where her corset had been and she does feel better when she can take a deep breath. Sonehso:wa is watching her with a smile when she looks up at him and his hands massage her hips. Her body remembers the last time he looked at her in such a way and it responds to his touch with an electrifying burst of warmth where his fingers had brought her to such heights of pleasure once before. She steps closer to him and brings her arms up around his neck. He pulls her hips tightly against him and kisses her softly, taking his time and very slowly adding to the intensity until Anika is pulling on his neck. Sonehso:wa steps back and removes his belts, dropping them on the floor and taking his shirt off, depositing it beside them carelessly. His movements are still stiff but he tries to hide it from her. Anika's eyes are drawn to his side and she touches the bruises lightly with the fingers of her left hand.

"Stop that." Sonehso:wa whispers, gently taking her fingers in his right hand and bringing them to his mouth. He kisses each of them and then moves her palm to his cheek. With his left hand, he reaches to her wet hair and pulls a section forward over her shoulder. It is darker in its dampened state but no less beautiful to him. He wants to see all of her, so he takes the string on the neckline of her shift between her breasts and pulls the bow out. Anika drops her arm to her side and watches his face as he pulls on each section of lacing, her breathing rapid and expectant. When her shift is hanging loosely from her, he reaches his hands to her shoulders and slides the straps off of them. His fingers trace the curves of her collarbones and then sink to her breasts. As he caresses and cups them in his hands he kisses her, his lips moving from her mouth to her jaw. He curls his fingers over the neckline of her opened shift and slowly drags it down. With every inch revealed, he kisses his way down her neck and chest to her breasts. Once her shift clears the fullest part of her breasts, it falls easily to her hips.

Anika cannot believe that she is letting him strip her naked. She should be abashed at her wanton behavior but she is not. This is what she wants and there is no one left to judge her. One of the only people she cares about is far from everything she knows and the other is kneeling before her, his lips roving over her breasts and his hands caressing every exposed inch of her skin. He is gentle and caring, his eyes turning upwards to her face now and then as he gives her the most extraordinary new sensations with his touch and tongue. Standing up, he pulls her to him and kisses her mouth, the new feeling of her body against his, skin to skin, sparking pleasant chills down her spine. He leads her over to the mat and stops kissing her to guide her to a sitting position on it. As he kneels over her, he runs his right hand over her breast and down her stomach, hooking his finger under the gathered edge of her shift.

"I want you, Jitkwa:'e…" Sonehso:wa looks into her eyes as he speaks. In answer, Anika braces her hands behind her and raises her hips off the mat. Sonehso:wa brings his other hand up and slides her shift the rest of the way off, letting his fingers run down her legs. His eyes are drawn to the triangle of hair between her thighs and his breath catches in his chest when he sees that it is not much darker than her golden locks he so loves, only partially hiding the soft curves of her sex. Immediately, he wants to touch her, taste her and take her but he only sets her shift aside, mustering his self control. He gets to his feet and loosens the ties holding his pants. Anika watches him as he takes them off, his erection springing free and standing out from his body. She stares at it and then looks up at him, her eyes showing a hint of fear. He knows he is a sizeable man but he has never found that he cannot bring a woman pleasure with it, even if it is her first time. Seeing Anika's fear tempers his urgency and he is determined to make sure she is ready for him so he will not hurt her.

Anika questions her decision briefly when Sonehso:wa stands naked before her. Remembering Cat's tearful description of how Francisco had hurt her on her wedding night, she tenses when Sonehso:wa lowers himself to her right side and gently uses his right hand on her shoulder to lay her back. The rain drums loudly on the roof above them and the sound of it, combined with his renewed kisses begins to relax her muscles. His hand travels over her skin, brushing a nipple, cupping a breast and squeezing it softly, circling her navel, sliding through her pubic hair and teasing her before traveling back up toward her breasts again. When he breaks away from their kiss to take more of her hair and pull it forward between her breasts, Anika brings her left hand to his arm and strokes it. He smiles and shifts his body lower beside her, moving his right knee between her legs and gently pushing her left knee to the side. Her body tenses again and she grips his arm, only relaxing again when he does nothing more than rest his weight on the knee between her legs and kiss her breasts. Slowly, he kisses down her chest and stomach, trailing his hands after and settling them on her sides just below her breasts. Lower still he goes, his lips branding her body with warmth and curving along the edges of her pubic hair. His hands move to her hips and almost at the same moment, he brings his mouth to her.

Her body is awash with movement under his hands and she sighs and gasps at once. After his initial taste, he draws back to look at her. Her head is thrown back and her arms are by her sides, her hands palm down and pushing against the mat. The sight of her is enthralling, and he is torn between wanting to stare at her or give her more. His love of giving pleasure wins and he lowers his mouth to her once more, Anika's cry of delight making him smile against her. Her knees are bent up and she opens her legs wide. She is unaware when he moves his other knee between her legs, for he is using his tongue and holding her steady with his hands on her hips. He can't get enough of her taste or the sound of her gasps and moans. She grabs his head in both of her hands and arches up to his face, pressing herself against him. Her hips and hands fall to the mat when it is over. Lifting his face from her, Sonehso:wa wipes his lips and chin with the back of his hand, greedily watching her panting below him.

Sonehso:wa moves closer to her, resting his weight on his hands on either side of her body. He is now completely between her legs. Still slightly euphoric from the high of her orgasm, Anika receives his kisses and only begins to return them with passion when he reaches down and presses his fingers to her once more. The surge of tingling heat that courses through her body surprises her so soon after such powerful waves had taken her over. Sonehso:wa kisses her jaw and murmurs in her ear but Anika does not understand his words. He sits back on his heels and gently positions himself to enter her. Anika's legs tighten against his sides as if to keep him away but he leans over her, supporting his weight with his left hand and kissing her neck and shoulders. She feels the moment he starts to push inside. It is an odd sensation; not painful but not easy, either. He only advances slightly before stopping and moving his right hand to her pubis, caressing her until her thighs relax away from him and her head falls back, her body experiencing sensations in far too many places to keep track of.

Just when Anika is getting used to how he feels, he pushes deeper. Her body accommodates him, yet she cannot withhold the troubled noise that escapes her throat. He stops and looks at her carefully, pulling his right hand from between their bodies and resting it next to her head.

"Am I hurting you, Jitkwa:'e?" Anika shakes her head.

"No. It's… fullness, strange."

"Do you want me to stop?" Anika shakes her head again and Sonehso:wa kisses her hard.

She feels incredibly good but her inexperience and the ache in his side restrains him. He is sure she will not come through this without at least some pain but he wants so desperately to show her he can bring her pleasure with it. She takes a handful of his hair with her right hand and Sonehso:wa almost loses control when she gasps against his mouth, his pleasure mounting to a dangerous high before he can hold it back. Pausing to catch his breath and gain more control, he is surprised to open his eyes and see Anika looking back at him. Her mouth is open slightly as she takes shaking, irregular breaths. He strokes a finger down her cheek and runs his right thumb over her bottom lip. Dropping his hand to the section of hair he left between her breasts, he picks it up and brings it to his lips. Her fingers tighten in his hair and on his hand and Sonehso:wa cannot stop, not now. Keeping his pace as controlled as he can, he uses the pain in his ribs to delay his release. Anika wraps her legs around him and the change in angle throws him over the edge.

Sonehso:wa's pleasure is all over his face as he exhales in bursts with his eyes squeezed shut. There was some pain when he had first started but it had faded. Though the sensation of him inside her is still new and unusual, it has crossed over into a pleasant kind of strangeness. Anika gives herself up to it, relaxing her body and allowing herself to feel it all. Sonehso:wa opens his eyes and for a moment, they are staring at each other. His hair spills over his shoulders and shifts over her skin, tickling her slightly. Wanting to pull him as close to her as possible, she tightens her legs around his hips and comes to a second, different climax. Sonehso:wa's voice joins hers and he throws his head back, breathing rapidly and a sheen of sweat covers his shoulders. He groans into her neck and Anika tightens her fingers in his hair, scraping her nails along his scalp as he kisses her slowly until their hearts slow and their breathing returns to normal.

All too soon, the sweat cools on their bodies. Sonehso:wa leans forward and kisses her again before getting up and moving toward the door. Anika watches the play of his muscles under his skin as he pushes the mattress aside slightly and reaches his cupped hands to the stream of water falling into the entrance to the cabin. He cleans himself of their lovemaking in the light of the fading day. It's still pouring outside. A moment of shameful awareness washes over Anika. She has given herself to this man and he has taken her innocence. It can never be taken back. Sitting up, she raises onto her knees. Sonehso:wa looks over his shoulder at her and smiles. He walks to their things scattered about the room and finds one of the folded cloths that had once covered food eaten days ago. Returning to the door, he wets it and brings it to Anika, kneeling down and kissing her.

"Did I hurt you?" His concern erases her doubt and Anika shakes her head.

"No." He kisses her again and smiles. Anika cleans herself off. With much less confidence than Sonehso:wa had displayed, she walks naked to the doorway and washes the cloth in the cold rain water. The mattress slides easily into place over the door, once again sealing in the warmth of the fire. Back at the mat, she joins Sonehso:wa where he lies stretched out and still naked, watching her.

"Woman, you are beautiful," he says, stroking her hair when she settles her body along his. Anika looks at his face.

"Man, I'm cold." He laughs and drags the blanket over them.

For the rest of the night and most of the following day as the rain continues to pour from the sky, they spend their time lazily traveling over every inch of each other's bodies, making love several more times. The rain starts to taper off in the evening hours of the next day and they decide to leave their cozy, ramshackle hideaway and finish their journey.

Catherine lies on her stomach on the bed facing the windows and reading one of the dusty books from the chest in the storage room. It is a good day, the second consecutive one that she did not have to leap from the bed and run to the porch, gagging. How heavenly it is to not feel so sick anymore! She must be past that time at last. Finding stores of energy she had not known existed in her, she had cleaned the entire cabin the day before, standing on the bed and using the broom to clear out cobwebs and dust bunnies from the corners where the rafters meet the roof. She had then washed all the bedding and scrubbed the floors thoroughly, humming as she cleaned and having Connor move the furniture away from the walls for her. Rain had been drumming on the roof for an entire day already and it had put Connor in a rancorous mood, trapping him indoors for a second day in a row but Catherine listened to it with exhilaration and energetic happiness, knowing the world was being washed clean. Connor had paced about and restlessly tuned and cleaned his entire weapon collection until his fingers were blackened from gunpowder residue and filings from the edges of his blades. He had remained sullen, sitting on the floor between the sheets and blankets draped over the chairs and table to dry in front of the fireplace, looking like an oversized child in his fort.

When everything had dried and Catherine had remade the bed, she had coaxed Connor onto it and cradled his head in her lap. Once the tie was out of his hair and she had carefully undone his braid and set the small, decorative beads on the shelf in a row, she had run her fingers through his hair. Nothing gives her more satisfaction than watching Connor relax under her touch. He always looks older when he is stressed out or anxious but as she smoothes his hair back from his face and runs her nails lightly over his scalp, the lines on his forehead and around his mouth and eyes fade away, taking years off of him. She has memorized every angle of his face, each line, curve and freckle, down to the last hair of his eyebrows with the tips of her fingers. It seems there is nothing more relaxing to them both than these times when Connor lets her caress away his burdens and Catherine is often rewarded with him falling asleep under her touch, even if it is only for a minute.

The rain had finally stopped, and mist lay heavily around the cabin in the morning, clouding the view from the windows and eddying in the breeze created by the falls. Connor had been up since before dawn, probably the moment the rain had tapered off. At the first light of sunrise, he had kissed her where she lay lazily in bed and left the cabin to hunt. Catherine had gasped when she had found the book while cleaning the storage room, shocked to discover such a treasure in the cabin. The other books scattered on the shelves are all in English and were comprised of many classical pieces of literature that Catherine had read many times before but this one had been among the things Connor had stowed away when he had claimed the cabin. Finding a copy of "El Ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quijote de la Mancha" had been a most pleasant surprise. When she had begun corresponding with Francisco, her father had hired a tutor to educate her and Anika in the Spanish language. The vinegary man had always plied them with the most dry and uninteresting works and had scoffed at the fantastical nature of novels and plays. She and Anika had struggled through the dullest accounts of the history of Spain and religious tomes expounding on the grace of God. By the time Connor returns from hunting, Catherine has devoured almost all of her treasured story as greedily as a child who has found a cache of sweets, leaving the storage room half cleaned and forgotten, the door still standing open.

Connor smiles at Catherine when she looks up at him from her relaxed position on the bed, her cheek resting in her left hand and her right hand poised to turn a yellowed page of a book. With her knees bent and her bare feet crossed in the air, she is a picture of total contentment. He kicks off his boots, hangs up his belt and shrugs out of his wet jacket, walking over and letting himself fall backwards onto the bed next to her, his knees bent over the edge. Catherine closes the book with a dusty snap and leaves it on the edge of the bed, drawing her knees up and flipping herself to lie alongside Connor.

"Did you get anything?" she asks, resting her left hand on his chest and noting the dampness that had saturated through his jacket and onto his shoulders and the front of his chest.

"No." He stares up at the ceiling.

"We have enough smoked venison to last us a long time. No need to worry." She brings her fingers up to his face and turns him toward her, smiling.

"I am not worried."

"Good." Catherine kisses him lightly and rests her head on his shoulder.

"What are you reading?" Catherine sits up excitedly and takes the book in her hands, presenting the cover to him with an open mouthed smile.

"I cannot read that, WildCat. What does it say?" Catherine reads the title in a melodramatic voice, gesturing grandly with one hand and bowing from her waist when she finishes. Connor's face remains impassive and Catherine tilts her head to the side and sighs in frustration, making Connor smile.

"I still do not know what it is."

"Don Quijote? It's the famous story of the most insanely chivalrous man and his misguided adventures as he attempts to become a knight of true honor and bravery!" Connor stares at her stoically for several long seconds.

"Are you mocking me?" he asks in a flat, serious tone. Catherine bursts out in laughter at Connor's question.

"Is that what you think of yourself? A man who dreams of knightood and rescuing damsels in distress?" Connor smiles and sits up, taking Catherine around her waist and pulling her over his body as he lies back down. Catherine lets out a squeal but does not fight his embrace. Rather, she straddles him and tosses the book onto the bed near the pillows. The sight of her over him, laughing and smiling, drives him almost mad with desire. She is not wearing her hide tunic and with her hair behind her, her body is provocatively displayed by the thin fabric.

"I rescued you, did I not?" Connor asks, flatly, his hands caressing the sides of her waist. Catherine nods and lowers her head close to his face, her hair falling forward from her shoulders and her hands sliding up his chest.

"You did! The ever honorable… Captain Chivalry." She brushes her lips teasingly over his with a soft laugh and pulls back just enough that Connor has to lift his head from the bed to kiss her. His hands wander from her waist, sliding up her back to her shoulders and pulling her down to him. Catherine complies and rests her body fully on his chest. Since the night Catherine had accepted him as the father of her baby, they had shared the cabin's bed. Their kisses had become more passionate in the days that followed as Catherine's heart had really begun to open to him. Her acceptance of her pregnancy had released an unspeakable burden from her and Connor had begun to let his guard down when it came to intimacy. He always let her control the direction and intensity of their dalliances but she had not attempted anything as aggressive as what she had done the first time he had joined her in the bed. They kissed often, sometimes chastely, sometimes passionately and their hands had started exploring each other's bodies, ghosting over sensitive areas in the semblance of foreplay yet still hesitant of the other's reaction despite the rising sexual tension between them. Catherine had become more confident despite their hesitance to cross that invisible line, and it has started to show in the teasing way she reacts to him. In some respects, he is excited by her metamorphosis; it is proof that she is truly comfortable around him but it is also maddeningly, frustratingly erotic.

Connor is spurred to ambition by Catherine's playfulness so he runs his hands down her body as they kiss, lightly squeezing the rounded curve of her buttocks and continuing on to the backs of her thighs. He presses his fingers into her skin and she moans into his mouth, shifting against his stomach. Moving his hands to the front of her thighs, he begins ascending up their length. Catherine sits up, breaking their kiss and tossing her hair back behind her shoulders. Connor pauses in his movement but Catherine takes his hands in hers and slowly guides them up her stomach and towards her breasts, never releasing eye contact with him. Boldly taking her breasts in his hands, Connor revels in the feel of their firm softness and the way they fit perfectly into his palms. Catherine closes her eyes and breathes deeply before leaning down into his hands. He bends his elbows and lowers her further, enough for them to resume their kissing.

Catherine holds Connor's wrist in her left hand, loving the way his hands cover her breasts; he squeezes them just enough to bring her thrilling bursts of sensation but not enough to hurt, for they are still tender. She twines her fingers in Connor's hair as they kiss and together they fall into a rhythm that feels so right. He takes his left hand from her breast and moves it to the back of her hip, pressing her body down and raising his up to meet her. They both react to the increased sensations with a throaty moan and Catherine suddenly finds herself being rolled onto her back.

The feeling of being pinned beneath a man so huge jolts Catherine out of her sensual reverie. She grasps at his arms but wills herself not to push him away. He's not a threat! Her body fights her mind, her heart rate picking up to a frenetic pace as she tries to crush down her fear. Connor hovers over her, kissing her neck and massaging her breast, his body flanked by her legs. When he pulls back to look at her, his face is calm for only a moment until he sees her internal struggle showing on hers. Moving quickly, he sits up, takes his hands off of her and shimmies backward on his knees. His reaction makes her want to weep. Sitting up immediately after him, Catherine reaches for him.

"No, stay! I'm alright." Catherine is out of breath and she wants him desperately even as her stubborn fear lurks threateningly near the surface. Bringing her hands to his arms, she pulls on him. Connor looks hard into her eyes and only draws her close when she takes his face in her hands and kisses him. His doubt is evident in the wooden way he moves, his motions no longer fluid and instinctive. In an effort to bring him back to where they were, Catherine tucks his braid behind his ear, bends her fingers into his hair the way he likes and kisses him slowly. Under her touch, his neck and shoulders start to loosen and he becomes less passive, tipping her head back and kissing the left side of her neck in the place below her jaw that he always seems drawn to.

"Put your hands on me, Connor." Catherine whispers in his ear, sitting back on her heels and drawing him toward her. Connor sighs against the skin of her neck as he allows her to tow him down. He is surprised when she wraps her legs around the backs of his knees after how she had reacted earlier. Pulling back from kissing her neck, he looks at her where she lies beneath him. Her eyes are closed and her head is turned to the right on the bed. On either side of her head her arms lie relaxed, her fingers curled softly. All around and under her arms, her hair spreads in an untamed mass of dark rebellion. As he watches her his heart is tortured by uncertainty. Her eyes open and she slowly turns her head to face him, her oceanic gaze capturing him completely. There is a determined, yet pleading set to her face and combined with the gravitational draw of her eyes, his caution falters.

"Please…" Her whispered plea slashes through the last of his reserve and he reaches for her shirt and pulls at the hide string holding it together in the front. He watches her as he loosens each lace, keeping vigilant for any sign of worry or fear. Catherine exhales and closes her eyes again.

Half way down her shirt and somewhere between her breasts, the tugging on her laces stops and Connor slides his hands under her shirt from the bottom, skimming his fingers over her skin and once again covering her breasts with his warmth. A breathy cry comes from her and she peeks from under her lashes to watch what Connor is doing. He is staring at his hands on her under her shirt, his mouth open and his eyes luminous with his desire. Taking his right hand from her, he gathers the bottom of her shirt at the side and lifts it up, uncovering her to his sight. His eyes are hungry. With a quick glance at her just to be sure, he lowers his lips to her. The moment he does, Catherine lets her eyes close fully and her head fall back onto the bed. Jolts of tingling course through her and radiate outward as he uses his tongue and lips to perpetuate and increase her pleasure.

Catherine moans as Connor raises the other side of her shirt. He pushes it up until it is gathered just below her collarbones and then puts his hands on the mattress on either side of her to just look. There is a tiny, brown mole just under the bottom curve of her right breast and Connor wants to touch it. Catherine's eyes are dilated and shining as she watches him, her respiration rapid and shallow. Breathing through parted lips, she waits for him, her arms still relaxed on either side of her head. Connor rakes his eyes down from her slightly flushed face, lingering on her breasts and then moves over her stomach to her navel and lower. Is there a fullness under the waist of her pants that wasn't noticeable before? Her body does seem a little less angular, appearing softer in his perception. She is beautiful like this and it amplifies his need for her. Running his hands over her, his thumb stroking over her little mole, he follows the path his eyes had taken until his palms are over her hips. When he curves his hands under her pelvis she closes her eyes and inhales. It drives him to even further heights of arousal so he lowers his mouth to hers and kisses her deeply. She returns his kisses in kind, taking a handful of hair on the back of his head and pulling him closer. Her fingers close on his left shoulder.

Feeling the need to slow down before he loses all control, he raises up on his hands and knees, lifting his body from Catherine's. She whimpers at the loss of sensation but Connor does his best to distract her by bringing his mouth to her right breast and lavishing it with his attentions. Not wanting to leave her left breast neglected, he cups it in his hand. He loves how she feels as he strokes his tongue over her, her hardened nipple just firm enough to make him want to bite it. Covering his teeth with his lips, he does, eliciting such a loud cry of pleasure from her that he imagines stripping them both down to nothing that instant and taking her with abandon. If only he knew he could with certainty. Too many doubts still linger and he knows he has to progress slowly or risk harming her. He longs to hear her ardently cry out as she climaxes. Only the purest pleasure, untainted by fear or pain of any kind is acceptable for her first time actually making love. He wants to make it right, perfect and healing; to undo the countless hurts she has suffered at the hands of unkind men and make her forget it all in exchange for the blissful escape of total oblivion. The longer they linger in each other's embrace now, the more he feels he may be able to give her that gift this time.

The pull of her fingers in his hair brings him back to the moment and he licks her mole with the tip of his tongue before trailing over to the space between her breasts. Retaking her right breast in his hand, he kisses his way up toward her neck, jumping over the bunched up material of her shirt and breathing onto her skin before touching his lips to the base of her neck just above her collarbones. Catherine writhes beneath him, making mewling, breathy sounds in her throat as he starts sucking her sweet warmth to the surface.

A sound outside the cabin startles him. Was that a voice? His body freezes and he takes his hands from Catherine's breasts and reaches to her arms to free himself from her.

"Connor, no! Don't stop…" Catherine whispers. Connor pulls her shirt down, only barely covering her breasts before raising his palm toward her and making a settling gesture.

"Shhh. Cover yourself and stay quiet. Someone is outside." His words send a chill down Catherine's spine and she sits up and drags her shirt down when he moves off the bed and silently advances toward the door. Grabbing her folded hide shirt from her pillow, she hurriedly pulls it on over her head and watches as Connor moves to put his back to the door, gripping his tomahawk in his left hand. Turning his head to the right, he cracks it open with his right hand on the latch and looks outside. Abruptly, his shoulders relax and he lowers the tomahawk, turning his face toward Catherine where she is nervously watching him from the side of the bed. He is smiling.

"He's back! Sonehso:wa?" Catherine asks, her heart leaping with excitement at hearing news of Anika. She strains to look out the windows but they are small and do not show enough of the foggy landscape outside. Connor closes the door and calmly reaches over to put his tomahawk back onto his hanging belt.

"See for yourself," Connor says enigmatically, moving to the side so she can open the door. Running toward him, Catherine throws her arms around him and kisses him briefly, barely able to do so because of her smile. She releases him and flings the door open, dashing onto the porch barefoot. Sonehso:wa is leading the horse toward her with his right hand and when he sees Catherine, he turns his head and says something with a smile on his face. Anika steps from behind him and Catherine nearly falls to the deck of the porch in shock. Anika is holding Sonehso:wa's hand but lets it go when Catherine stumbles onto the flattened wet grass in front of the porch as if in a dream, her vision blurring from tears filling her eyes. Is this really happening? It must be, because their arms are around each other and Anika's musical voice is in her ears. They are both crying and trying to talk at once between kisses and hugs.

Connor smiles as he watches the two women embracing. Though he had not initially intended for Anika to end up here, he is relieved that she is safe and Catherine does not have to worry anymore. Having her here ensures there will be no future danger for her. Not wanting to disturb their happy reunion, Connor unobtrusively moves past them and joins Sonehso:wa where he is removing everything from the grey horse by the cliff wall. The chestnut moves closer and smells the grey with curiosity, nibbling his mane.

"You have the worst timing, my friend." Connor laughs, speaking in Kanien'keha.

"Oh, so happy to see you, too, Ratonhnhake:ton. I am glad you did not worry about me getting back safely." They laugh together.

"I was not worried. Should I have been?"

"There were a few… things that happened."

"Was it the adventure you have been looking for?" Connor asks and Sonehso:wa turns to look at Anika as she and Catherine make their way onto the porch with their arms around each other.

"More than you know, brother."