The nervous boys had presented their "Mother" with burnt fish and a posy of crushed flowers when she was ushered through the trap door. Bean, the oldest and short-legged leader of the trio pulled a soft fur blanket onto Wendy's lap as she ate while Boo, tiny and frail, bickered with Squish about which would brush their new mother's hair.
"I asked to brush it first!" Boo stamped his small foot, raising a puff of dust near the lop-sided table.
"But it's my brush," countered Squish, holding onto the brush with both pudgy hands, high above Boo's tangled brown mop. "You don't even brush your own hair and would probably hurt her."
Wendy cleared her throat. "How about you take turns? Boo, you can brush this side and Squish, you can have the other side." The pair lit up underneath the patches of dirt they'd tried to hastily scrub upon her arrival.
She settled onto the low chair and plucked out the remaining pins holding her hair up from the opera. Had she really only London hours ago? Did John find his feather yet? A quick shake and her hair unraveled down the length of her back.
"Oh Mother!" Bean's tone was reverent. Three pairs hands pawed at her curls, tenderly removing twigs and debris.
"Me first!" Boo snatched the brush and attacked the top of Wendy's head.
Wendy whimpered, but refused to rebuke the boy.
"Boo." Peter's low voice filled the small space, the single syllable swallowed by the dirt walls. He'd disappeared into another room when they'd arrived and now filled the doorway. "Be gentle with your Mother or she will leave."
"Sorry, Mother," Boo whispered. Wendy saw tears crowd the corner of his brown eyes when he slowly, ever so slowly, raised his shaking hand to start again.
"Why don't you start at the bottom and work your way up? I always find it helps make the tangles easier."
The tiniest Lost Boy smiled and nodded. He reminded her of Michael, the first time they'd visited Neverland. Wendy's eyes closed when Boo found his rhythm with the brush, strokes lengthening with each pass.
She was flying again, floating lazily above Neverland, drifting from cloud to cloud. She could see Hook's ship in a harbor far away. Smoke snaked upwards across the island; perhaps Tiger Lily was back among her people. Peter had to be nearby—she could smell him. Wendy tried to call but her lips were heavy, almost stuck together. Oh, her ankle still hurt. Had he left her again?
"Peter." She managed to push his name out as a whisper rather than something louder. She was so tired.
Wendy sucked in her breath as her eyes flew open. She had not been flying, but rather, carried and placed into bed by Peter. He was bent over face, pulling Bean's blanket to her chin. His eyes were dark, lit only by the candle somewhere across the room.
"You need to sleep."
"I am very tired."
"Go to sleep, then." His hand moved from the blanket, grazed her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear.
"You should get your wound cleaned." Wendy's eyes were already closed again.
"Go to bed. Tomorrow, we will have adventures." Peter's thumb caressed her eyebrow.
She sighed and leaned into his hand. "I should like that very much."
###
The whispers and muffled laughter cut through Wendy's sleep. Under the blanket, even the slightest movement of her leg caused her to clamp her teeth together. Gradually, she worked her way out of the warmth, lowering her feet to the grass mat on the floor. From high above, a shaft of light revealed the mottled purple and blue bruises around her ankle. She touched the swelling and screwed her face in agony, biting back a groan.
"You're awake."
Wendy, still folded over at the waist, cocked her head to the side to see through the curtain of brown curls.
Peter leaned to one side of the doorway. His torso was covered with a loose, dark green shirt, his legs wrapped in dark pants, barefoot. The red hair was smoothed down before he reached up to scratch a bit over his ear. "Good morning."
"Morning." Wendy straightened, keeping her ankle absolutely still. Yet, pain shot up her leg and she hissed.
"Boys," Peter called over his shoulder. Three small bodies crowded the remaining space in the doorway. "You'll need to gather two strong branches as big around as Squish's arms. Then, you'll need ten or so about as tall as Boo. Bean, get me lots of vine.
"What are we making, Peter?" Boo's small voice came from somewhere near the sheathed knife at Peter's waistline.
"Well if Wendy cannot go to the adventures on her own, we shall have to take her there. And since she cannot walk for now, we will pull her wherever we go." Peter never took his eyes off of Wendy as he spoke, despite being jostled from behind.
Like ravenous dogs after a thrown treat, the trio of boys shot out of the hideaway, hollering and ordering each other about.
Peter took a step and then another before he knelt and cradled her ankle. His fingers danced around the swelling and bruises. Wendy was torn between misery and bliss. No man had ever looked at her bare ankle, let alone touched it. The thought made her head spin.
"I…I'm sorry I'm a burden on my first day in Neverland." She had planned to offer to help make the travois, but her words stuck in her throat when Peter looked up from her foot to her face, just inches apart. "Your eyes are very hypnotizing." Her thoughts had passed her lips before she had time to think them through and she felt her blush flood her entire face. Wendy dropped her own eyes to his hands, still at her ankle.
"What does that mean?"
She chuckled. "I forgot, you are still a boy in there, only a week old as a man." Swallowing her timidity, she continued. "To hypnotize is to be caught in a spell, trapped—like a spider in a web. You cannot escape when you are hypnotized unless the person who hypnotized you allows it."
Dawning recognition spread with his smile. "Then I won't allow it."
