The smell of something delicious cooking brought Adam around out of his deep sleep. Weakness consumed him and the pain in his chest made it hard to breathe but his brain felt sharper about the edges. Concentrating on one small task, he struggled to open his eyes. His eyesight was blurred and pained, the tiniest amount of light stinging the sensitive pupils, but still he was able to look about as far as he could strain his gaze. He tried to inhale deeply so that he could pinpoint where the smell of food was but a sharp pain tore through his chest and a groan was ripped from his throat. As a consequence, he began to cough and the discomfort became blinding agony. Fear consumed him as he wallowed in the lonely pain. Almost immediately, he felt a presence by his side and then a woman's voice spoke gently.

"Take care, Malak...breathe in small draughts. Slower...slower...the pain is fleeing now, comfort in its place. Allah sawf yahmik kama kunt tastahiq. Shhhh..."

The words were foreign, spoken in a strange tongue but their effect was the same upon Adam. He no longer felt alone and the fear fell away as he listened. He opened up his eyes again and beheld the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen in his entire life. The simple black dress that she was wearing couldn't have been a greater difference from her pale skin and the intensity of her translucent blue eyes. Her hair was a unique shade of deepest burgundy, so deep as to blend into her dress but it was her ruby lips that transfixed his attention. They moved gracefully into a slight smile, a hint of white teeth poking out to tease with their brilliance. One question worked its way through to the forefront of his stunned mind.

"May I..." he struggled to form the words, "ask who...who you are...miss?"

"Reda. Reda...Smith," The smile deepened although it seemed that she hesitated before replying.

Even in his foggy state, he felt the need to perform and tried to return the smile. He attempted to talk more but found his mouth to be too dry and lips too cracked to be of use. Thirst overwhelmed him but he didn't know how to formulate the request. Closing his eyes, he let his head sink back into the pillow. He felt her leave and was regretful that his entertainment skills had been less than adequate. His need for sleep outweighed his need for water and he began to fade away again when a hand was slipped under his head and a cup was held to his lips. His instinct was to gulp the water as fast as he could but the cup was taken away.

"Drink slowly, one sip at a time," she reminded him, bringing the rim close again.

He obeyed until he had his fill then turned his head to the side, signaling that he was finished. Watching as the young woman rose to place the cup on a table across the room, he struggled to sit up in the presence of a lady, feeling it to be rude otherwise. So concentrated on getting his muscles moving, he was startled by her reappearance and her strength as she held him down. Her eyes seemed to spark as she stared into his.

"Stop struggling, it will do you know good. If you want to get better than you must trust me on this. If not, you will simply be a greater burden than you already are," she said sternly, a frown marring her face as she worked him back under the covers. Then she left to go over to the fire and stir the pot that hung above it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." Adam replied in a hoarse whisper, sheepish at being reprimanded. She ignored him, returning in time with a small bowl of soup. He was silent as she placed a napkin in her lap and looked up at him, her face passive and inscrutable.

"Are you hungry? I made a healing soup, an old family recipe."

"Sounds delicious," he replied, preferring not to risk insulting his savior again.

Dipping a spoon in the brew, she brought it carefully to his lips and tipped the contents into his mouth. A drop of broth escaped and slid down his chin to which she took the napkin in hand. As she pressed the cloth against his face, their eyes locked. She looked away promptly but not before he had seen the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. He kept silent as he was fed two more spoonfuls but then refused the third by shaking his head, his stomach beginning to feel a bit queasy.

"Just one more, Adam. You need food to regain your strength," she entreated, tipping the last spoonful into his unwilling mouth.

"How do you know my name?" he asked after he had swallowed, getting more intrigued by the minute.

She stared at him for several seconds before shrugging. "You whispered it in your sleep, I suppose. Now, you must rest. No more talking, it is a useless drain on your strength."

After she had exited the room, the door closing behind her sharply, he stared at the ceiling. This girl, for she seemed to be young despite the hard set of her jaw, was a puzzle. Her appearance was that of a mystical princess but her demeanor was brisk and detached, doing what she needed to do but no more. Her eyes though...more full than he had ever seen; a myriad of emotions plagued them among which had been that fear he had seen. But there had been something else...a tenderness perhaps. Why was she afraid of him? What could he ever do to her in the state he was in? Compassion made him wish he was healthy so that he could go after her and ask what he could do to help. She was obviously in some kind of trouble but he would have to bide his time and be gentle with her until she felt the need to confide her troubles.

A drowsiness swept over him then and he realized that she had more than likely put something in the soup to make him sleep. He thought that the soup had tasted a bit odd but had blamed his illness which made the food taste strange perhaps. Reda Smith, if that was her real name, definitely considered him to be a threat but why escaped him as he slipped into the arms of slumber once more.

I* * * * *I

Tears ran down Angelina's cheeks as she sat on a grassy cliff, overlooking Lake Tahoe sparkling below under the cloudy skies. The distant mountains guarded the far shore and beckoned to her to join them. She looked over the edge of the cliff, at the jagged boulders below, and wished that it would be so easy to end her pain. But she knew it to be useless. Oh, she had tried dozens of times to put an end to the hell that was her eternal life but to no avail. Poison, daggers, jumps, guns and more over the last century and a half but all to no purpose. There was a myth that a wooden stake through the heart would complete the end result, however, she had found out the hard way that this method did not work either.

She couldn't bear to go back. His eyes...they had looked into her soul. He had been suspicious of her fake name, that was also obvious in those hazel orbs. His intelligence was far more formidable than that of another man whom she had let get close and that had led to betrayal. This man, this Adam Cartwright, was more dangerous than any other she had met in her lifetime but now it was too late. He would figure out her secret and end up betraying her too. She must silence him, forever; kill him and dispose of the body so that his family would never find him. That was the only choice, no other would secure her future.

But simply the thought of killing Adam Cartwright, to see the life fade from those beautiful eyes, brought a sob from her. Her body shook relentlessly as she gazed out at the lake, wishing that he hadn't come into her life. She was fine with her lot before she had found him wounded in the forest. At least he would be gone soon, one way or another.

While he slept, she had slashed her wrist and let her blood flow into the soup. It had blended with the herbs and had fooled him enough to get the broth down his throat at least. She hadn't been able to give him very much, only three or four spoonfuls, but over the next couple of days, his health should return with continuous treatments. Later today, he should wake up feeling refreshed though still needing much rest but if not, he would continue to fade. She didn't know which outcome to wish for.

Standing from the grass, she looked back towards the woods in which the cottage was hidden. If she wanted, she could have been there in the blink of an eye but instead she walked slowly, getting back an hour later. Stopping in the stable to brush Cole and release him into the trees to graze, she reluctantly went back inside. She stood inside the door with her back to it, watching Adam sleep. His brow was dry, the fever had passed and he no longer tossed in his sleep. His breathing was still very labored but she could tell a noticeable difference. He was responding to her blood already.

Retrieving a book from the shelves by the desk, she sat in the chair by his bedside and settled down to read. She hadn't been able to bear going to the dress shop that day. Though it was closed on Sundays, she should have gone into town to meet Hop Sing who had said he would return to talk. She smiled upon thinking of the kind Chinaman. Ah, dear Hop Sing, the only person she could call "a friend". They had met a year earlier when she had moved to Genoa and he had began bringing the Cartwrights' mending. They had struck up a small friendship and had more than a few interesting discussions. Most of them had been stories of the mischief caused by the youngest Cartwright sons when they were younger and how the eldest one would always try to cover up for his brothers. That is when she had fallen in love with Adam Cartwright and seeing him in town a few times had sealed the bond.

Angelina shook her head and looked back to the page in her lap but the words blurred together. She ended up staring at his sleeping face, memorizing once again every line and curve of his dusky features. His lips parted as he moved restlessly under the covers and she was overcome with a desire to kiss him. Not just kiss him but to also feel his arms around her waist and to feel his love in return. A foolish wish and one she sniffed at, calling herself an idiot. She had already loved once and nearly been killed. Marcus had whispered sweet nothings into her ear, as his right arm had raised with a dagger gripped in his fingers, ready to plunge it into her back. What a fool she had been...and was.

Her reverie was broken when he began to writhe and moan lightly. Rising from her seat, she wet a soft cloth and returned to bathe his face, neck and arms. His eyes opened but he didn't say anything. When she had finished, he smiled.

"Thank you, Ma'am, that feels much better," he said quietly, his voice rich with gentleness.

"I only want you to be comfortable so that you can get well faster. Then we both can go peacefully about our lives," Angelina replied briskly, turning her back to begin preparing his next meal.

"If you don't mind my asking, why do you dislike me so?"

Her hands stilling, she turned slowly to glance his way. He was propped up on one elbow and staring at her with a look of passive curiosity and confusion. The blanket had fallen down, exposing his bare chest. The pectoral muscles were defined but not overly so, giving him the understated appearance of a boy while the soft, black down gave no doubt that this was most definitely a man, in every sense of the word. God, but he is beautiful! She shook her head and returned to cutting the vegetables. "I do not dislike you, Adam, I simply do not know you. Trust is earned."

There was silence for a time until she heard a grunt and turned to see him trying to get up but failing miserably. Having swung his legs over the edge of the bed, he couldn't seem to find the strength to rise. He looked up and his cheeks reddened as he pulled a blanket around his bare shoulders. "I'm sorry to bother you but is there a long stick or something I could use to walk? I need to...deal with private needs."

Oh, he looked so helpless and embarrassed. Fighting back a smile, she strode over and helped him to his feet. Looking up into his face, she nodded. "Put your arm around me and I'll help you outside." At his stricken look, she chuckled dryly. "I will leave you there and return in a few minutes. Don't worry."

If she thought it wouldn't completely humiliate him, she would have tossed him up into her arms and carried him out but as it was, she played the part of a weak female. Together, they half-walked, half-stumbled down the two porchsteps and into the nearby woods. Finding a place where an old tree stump stood, she left him so that he could do his business and then to sit to wait for her return. By the time she had him back in his bed, his eyelids were heavy and he looked exhausted. Tucking the blankets around him again, she placed a hand over top of his right one.

"Go back to sleep for awhile. I'll wake you for dinner in a couple of hours," she said, smiling as he nodded sleepily and drifted off. Her fingers couldn't resist running along the side of his head and she leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Sleep deep, Malak, I'll be here when you awake."

Malak = Arabic for "angel".

Allah sawf yahmik kama kunt tastahiq = Arabic for "God will protect you as you deserve".