His world consisted of a bed, a table, a chair and one small window that was up high. He supposed most men wouldn't be able to see out it, but he could. Course all he could see was the ground, as he was in the basement, down deep. Sometimes, a butterfly would land or a leaf would float down, but that was all.

The door opened.

"Sit in the chair." The soldier ordered and he wanted to point out he was already sitting there.

"You have twenty minutes." The door closed and he furrowed his brow puzzled, until the door opened again.

He felt her presence before he even saw her. She was like sunshine and hope, and smelled of flowers. Everything changed when she entered the room, even the air itself. He rose suddenly, knocking over the chair and ran to her. She fell into his arms, and he couldn't tell whether it was her sobbing he heard, or his.

"You never, ever listen." He said to her after a minute.

"Why start now?" She said with a sad grin. "You didn't really think I would, did you?" He shook his head laughing. He had his arms around her, their faces close and leaning in he kissed her. She was trembling.

"Sit down, Becky." He said turning and righting the chair, but she clung to him.

"No, I can sit for the rest of my days. I can only be here in your arms, for just now."

He laughed then and moved to the bed and sat down with her in his arms still.

"They hurt you." She said her hand on his bruised face.

"I wasn't as cooperative as they would have liked." He explained.

"You never are." They smiled at each other, but he could see all her tears just underneath her grin.

She kissed him and all the hard work he had done to steel himself to what lay ahead fell away. He only wanted to be able to spend the rest of his days with her. To be ripped from her shattered him. At the same time, he could hear, no feel, the clock ticking away these last few minutes. There was so much he needed to set right. He broke away from her.

"Rebecca, listen. You promise me you'll leave Boonesboro. It would be too dangerous for you all alone. Take the children to Ned. My parents are . . . they would hold it against you that you are Irish, and they wouldn't take Katie-Grace as their own. They are good people, but they have their faults. I couldn't bear it, if they treated you . . . Ned thinks like we do. Go to him."

"I can't think that far ahead." She said.

"He's family. He'll see you are safe."

"You are my family. The only one I ever had, since they laid my Ma in the earth. Oh, Dan! How can I . . . " He looked away from her, too pained to meet her eyes. She caught herself. "I'm sorry. I know it isn't fair. Don't worry. I'll be alright. I promise you, I'll find a way - for your children- to be alright."

He ducked his head. "I am sorry. I should've listened . . ."

"No, you were right. Freedom is always worth the risk. How can I expect others to fight for me, if I'm not willing to pay the price?" She looked at him. Her face was pale and streaked with tears.

"Promise you won't be there. I can't look out and see you. I can't see how hurt you are, and not be able to go to you. I wouldn't be able to endure it." He pleaded with her.

"I promise." She said softly.

"Go somewhere's and pray, 'Becca. And sing that old song, your Ma used to sing to you, and you sang to all our babies. I remember hearing you sing it to Jim when he was just a wee thing, and thinking that I was listening to the very voice of God. I'll think of that when the time comes."

"I'll try." She said. They looked at each other saying nothing.

"Five minutes." A voice called from the outside; harsh, jarring.

"Where are you staying? Are you safe? They are leaving you be?" He asked her.

"We set up camp outside of town." She rested her head against his shoulder. "In town, everyone stares and says . . .it was better to be outside of the town." She explained.

"Your whole life-long I've saddled you with this now. You and the children. Kiss them all for me, tell them how much I love them. I'm sorry I won't see Israel grow to be a man or stand with the girls when they wed. You remind them, every day that I was proud to be their Pa and that I love them. Make sure Katie-Grace knows I am glad every day to have her as my daughter. I don't ever want her doubting." She nodded, crying against his shoulder.

"I can't say good-bye." She said. "I won't. Not ever. You can think of something! You always do! I read that book about you! It promised that nothing could stand in your way. Please, think of something." The pain in her voice wounded him.

"I love you Rebecca. I will forever. Don't you go puttin' on a brave face, or turn that sweet heart of yours to iron. And if some day, some other fella can bring you joy, then you go on ahead. All I ever want, is you joyful."

"Never!" She said angrily. "Never, Dan! I am your wife, go deo."

"Alright, break it up. Time's up." A soldier stood in the doorway.

"Just a little more time, please." Becky begged, and Daniel swallowed down tears. Holding her face in his hands, he kissed her one last time.

The soldier grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her away from him. "C'mon, now! Let's go." Rebecca struggled against the soldier fighting to hold onto her husband. The soldier raised his hand ready to strike her, and Daniel was standing in an instant. He held the chair in his hands, standing in front of Rebecca, the chair raised and ready to strike.

"Don't lay a hand on her." He said angrily. "She'll go. Don't you touch her!"

The soldier backed away, his hands raised. "Hurry it up, then." He said.

Setting down the chair, he turned to her. "Becky, don't fight him. Go on now, love. I'll see you on the other side of the river." She nodded her head and clung to him tightly.

"Daniel, tá mo chroí istigh ionat." She whispered and kissing him one last time, she allowed herself to be torn from him.

"'Becca, tá mo chroí istigh ionat." He called to her, and she nodded. "Go deo! Forever!"

Even as they led her up the stairs and away from him, she could hear his voice calling out to her over and over, "Tá mo chroí istigh ionat!"

***DB***

Tom Walker turned from the cave, where Rebecca Boone lay. She lay silently, staring ahead, too weak and weary to stand.

"I don't know. Her being here complicates it." He turned towards Matt Bradley and Mingo.

"She had to come. What if none of this works? She has a right to say good-bye." Mingo said defensively.

"She'll be watched." Matt said.

"Why? He'll be dead." Tom asked puzzled.

"Someone will talk. Sooner or later someone always does. Then they will come looking." Mingo explained.

"I suppose you are right." They all turned at the sound of her tears as she had begun to cry again.

"God, that's an awful sound." Tom said sighing and rubbing his face with his hand. "This is going to work. We have to make sure it does, for her sake. I can't manage seeing her so utterly destroyed. We should've brought Grace with us."

"She wanted to come, but . . . there's the children to think of too. There aren't too many places, Katie-Grace feels truly safe, and with Anna due any day now."

Tom sighed thinking of his wife. "Anna wishes she could be more help. I sure hope that baby waits for me, but I suppose even if he don't, I'll see him soon."

"Or her." Mingo said with a smile.

"Or her." Tom agreed. "Now, we wait and pray, I guess. Should we say anything to her?"

They had been talking about this for weeks. It seemed that every single day, they went back over the same arguments.

"No." Mingo was adamant. "If things play out wrong, it would just be cruel. Whatever happens, happens, and we'll move from there."

"I still think . . ." Matt said. "She's a strong woman, Mingo. She might want to know."

"There's an end to her." Mingo said. "It would just be painful. Besides you know what Daniel said. We will wait."