Ahnna's eyes fluttered open. She lay there, trying to remember where she was, how she'd gotten there. When she did, she wished she hadn't. Remembering was a knife blade, ripping at the raw parts of her being. Her upper teeth bit down hard on her lower lip, hard enough to draw a small welling of blood. Then she became aware someone's arm lay across her middle and turned her head to her left. Alistair. His head lay on the pillow just a few inches away. He was asleep. Her eyes roamed over his quiet face and something in her soul settled into his presence.

He had come and he had gathered her into himself. She recalled the sound of his voice murmuring in her hair, the feel of his arms holding her. Such a depth of love rose in her as she gazed at him that the inner ripping was dulled, lulled into something bearable. His face, his being, were the most beautiful things she'd ever known. And he was all she had in this world. That last thought brought the loss of Marce flooding back through her and she closed her eyes as new tears welled.

Marce. She'd been right here in the Glen. How could that be? How could she not have known? Where...where had Marce been staying, and with whom? And why had she been killed? Where? There was just too much she didn't know! But she would. She would find it out, all of it. And the Sheriff, he'd said she must identify Marce's body in the morning. She bit her lip again. How could she do that...how could she bear the doing of it?

The last time she'd seen her sister, only 13 months younger than herself and so similar in appearance they were more often than not mistaken for twins, the last time had been when Marce looked at her, accusation and disgust in her eyes, then turned and slammed the door behind her. Marce blamed her for everything, for the loss of her family, and wanted nothing more to do with her sister. Ahnna hadn't seen her since, had no idea where she'd gone, what she was doing. Marce made sure of that. But somehow...someway...they'd both ended up in the Glen. If only...oh, God...if only she'd had a chance...one more chance...to make things right between them. Now she'd see Marce in the morning. Only Marce was dead. Now they were all  gone, her parents, her brothers...and Marce.

Alistair awoke suddenly. The room was dim in late twilight hours and he blinked several times. Ahnna. He turned his head on the pillow and saw her lying there, eyes closed, new wetness on her cheeks. Propping himself on his right elbow, he leaned over her, touching a tear with his fingertip.

She opened her eyes and he said softly, "I love you."

There was nothing that could have dipped itself with more meaning into the vast pool of her aloneness than his three words. "Oh, God!" she moaned, flinging her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her hair, saying over and over, "I love you. I love you."

"Don't let me go," she whimpered. "Please, Alistair, don't let go of me!"

"I won't, my darling. I'll hold you forever. I promise. I promise."

Gently, he began to brush long strands of hair back from her face, then found her lips with his. His kiss was soft and warm, protective and loving, yet light, as though he didn't want to hurt her. She, though, pressed her mouth into his in a desperation of needing him, but he tasted her blood and pulled back, alarmed lest he had caused it. "Ahnna...did I...?"

The barest knock sounded on the door and he quickly sat up on the side of the bed.

"Come in."

"It's just me again," Joimus smiled. "It's getting quite late and I thought you might be hungry." She came in and set a tray down on a side table. "I hope you've gotten some rest, Ahnna. I brought you some chicken broth, thinking it would be easier to swallow. There's some jello, too, if you feel like it."

"Thank you, Joimus," Ahnna murmured. "I'm feeling a little better." Her eyes darted to the side toward Alistair.

"I'm so glad. Call me if there's anything either of you need, all right?"

"Thank you for everything," Alistair added. He met Joimus' eyes. He intended to stay the night and he could see that she knew that and would not say anything. There was no way he was going to leave Ahnna alone.

"If you wouldn't mind letting me borrow your keys, I'll drive out and pick you up some fresh clothing for tomorrow," Joimus offered. Her gaze went to both of them. Slightly diffident, Alistair reached into his pocket, handing his keys to her.

"My...my purse is still in the Greenery office," Ahnna explained.

"I'll take care of everything," Joimus said, going to the door. "You two just take care of each other." With a last fond smile, she closed the door behind her.

Alistair got up and moved the tray to the bed. "Let's see what we've got here." He helped her prop up with pillows then sat beside her, spoon-feeding her the broth.

"You don't need to do that."

"Not even if I want to?"

She smiled at him and opened her mouth.

He enjoyed the simple process of it, the nurturing aspect of it all, and she was touched by his earnest carefulness. Not until she'd eaten both the broth and jello would he look to see what there might be for him. A fat lettuce, tomato, cheese, and bacon sandwich lay on a small plate, along with a glass of cider and a slice of lemon cake. He suddenly realized he hadn't eaten a thing since his burnt toast breakfast and his stomach let out a loud growl.

Ahnna laughed. She actually laughed and the sound of it delighted him. He smiled widely in return, his sandwich almost to his mouth. "Do you have any idea, Reverend Alistair Harris, how adorable you are?"

He set the sandwich back on the plate and took both her hands in his. "Adorable enough that you would marry me?"

Her eyes widened. "Ma...marry?"

"Ahnna, come and live with me in the mill. I want you there. I need you there. Will you, Ahnna, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Alistair...really?"

"Really," he said, beginning to kiss her palms.

"You...you truly mean that?"

"With all my heart...yes."

"Oh, Alistair!" Tears began to course down her cheeks, but she was smiling. "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!"

He leaned forward, almost tipping the tray entirely. But he needed to kiss her and he needed to do it now.