He waited anxiously. He paced wondering what they were saying to her. He remembered the last time he had felt this much anxiety as he waited for her. He had paced as he was now. He had despaired of her arrival as he did now. When she had finally arrived dressed all in white, every fear melted away. He wished it were that easy now.

She entered flanked on either side by Sister Beatrice and Sister Elias and he could see she was trembling. He felt as though he had stepped inside a dream. It was only now, seeing her again in front of him, alive and beautiful, that he understood how utterly wrecked he had been.

"Rebecca." He said softly, longing to wrap his arms around her and never let go. She hesitated and he could tell by her expression that he was a stranger to her. He willed himself to stay where he was.

"They said that's my name. I'm sorry but I don't remember." She looked up at him, her blue eyes clouded.

He swallowed trying to respond but found it difficult. He stood frozen forcing himself to remain calm. He didn't want to frighten her.

"That's, that's alright. I imagine it's only temporary. We can give it some time. My name is Daniel. I am your husband. I don't know how you came to be here. I've searched and searched for you; for any clue, but we found nothing. Everyone said you must be . . . I thought . . ." He choked back tears.

"They told me. I don't know how I came to be here either. I woke up here. They say when I was ill, I called your name but when I awoke I couldn't remember anything."

"I woke you in the middle of the night. There were Chickasaw." Seeing her puzzled face he explained, "We live in Kentucky; on the frontier. Anyway, there were Chickasaw and you ran to the fort for help. I stayed with the children. But you never got to the fort. That was sixty-eight days ago."

"I'm sorry." She said again clearly troubled. "I don't remember. I wish I did. I get flashes sometimes but it never makes sense. I've tried and tried." She reached out and put a hand to her head.

"Your head hurt?" He asked concerned.

She nodded.

"Why don't you sit down, sweet. . ." He stopped himself. "Sit down, please."

She sat down in the chair by the window, her face down and her hands in her lap. Her wedding band was missing.

"Has she been having headaches?" He asked.

"She hasn't said anything about it. Have you?" Sister Beatrice asked.

"Only when I try hard to remember things." Becky said softly, avoiding looking up at Daniel. But drawing in a deep breath, she turned to him. "I'm sorry. I know this must be difficult for you. I don't remember you." Her voice was full of sorrow. "I don't remember anything." A tear ran down her cheek.

"Hey now," He said kneeling in front of her. "Everything will be fine. You'll remember when you are ready. There's no rush. You are alright, that is all that matters to me. You don't have to worry. I'd never let anything bad happen to you. Why don't you go lie down. You don't have to go anywhere or do anything you don't want to. I promise, mo shearc." He reached out to touch her, but stopped himself.

"I am sorry." She said again and rising she left with Sister Beatrice at her side. The door closed and she was gone again. He sank into the chair she had just left. His legs had turned to jelly and he felt a swirling mix of emotions; joy at her alive, grief that she did not know him, and an agonizing ache that he couldn't touch her.

"Mr. Boone," Sister Elias said after they'd gone. "I am sorry things haven't turned out as you'd hoped."

He had turned his face from her, but she could hear the tears in his voice. "There's no need for apologies. She was dead but now . . ." He paused and after wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he turned to face her. "I am grateful. I'd rather her alive and not know me than . . . I only want her well and happy. That would be enough for me."

"She has been so loving, trusting and kind. I told the sisters that surely she came from a house of love. I was correct.". She sighed. "It is late. Come back in the morning. We will try again."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay here. I won't be a bother. I can sleep out on your porch if you'd rather. I don't want to be away from her, not ever again."

Sister Elias studied his sad, green eyes, and knew that even if she attempted to send him away, he would sleep outside just be near her. Smiling at him, she said,. "There's a spare bed by the infirmary. You may stay there."