"Thought we'd agreed you were going to call me Pa."
"P-Pa. Thought you'd... never come."
"Told 'em you'd come." Meggie's voice cut through their stammerings. Everyone turned to look at the little girl standing in the shadows, her arms crossed over her small chest. "It was the magic."
Garret released Liam slowly, carefully, easing down onto his good knee to bring himself eye level with the little girl. He reached out, taking the child's small hands in his.
"It was the magic that brought me back, angel." His voice broke, and he swept the child against him, holding her, the love in those gray eyes piercing through to Ashleen's very soul.
"Magic?" Ashleen echoed.
"Meggie's magic rock. She gave it to me before I left to ward off dragons. When I opened its wrapping I saw the nugget. I knew that the Garveys had never found the gold. That it was still somewhere on Stormy Ridge." His mouth went grim. "And I knew those bastards would come stalking."
A shudder worked through him. "Damn it, Ashleen, I was so scared... that I'd be too late. That those animals had already hurt you, the children. I was out of my mind thinking of what they might be doing to you, wondering if you were still alive."
"Did you slayed the dragons, Mr.—Pa?" Meggie's voice. Impatient. It broke through his tormented words.
"Yes, baby," Garret assured her, kissing her tumbled hair. "The—the dragons are gone."
"Shevonne said they were out-laweds, not dragons. That more of 'em might come. But I tol' her not to worry."
"No, Meggie, love. I'll always be here from now on. Taking care of all of you—"
"'Course you will." Meggie reached up to pat Garret's dark silk hair, and it was as if with that childish caress she were wiping away a lifetime of pain. "An' I got 'nough magic to last for a million years."
She pulled away and went to the side of the cellar, tugging at a piece of the sod wall. It fell away, revealing a space behind it. Light from the doorway spilled in, a mellow glow filling the secret niche. Ashleen went to it, sinking down on her knees. She reached in, her hand closing about something hard, odd-shaped. Gold.
"Garret, the whole space is filled with it," she gasped, stunned.
"It had to have been Pa. Pa who hid it here." Garret's voice held love, pain. "He must've seen Kennisaw when the old buzzard dumped the strongboxes. He must've taken the gold out of 'em. Buried it down here for safekeeping. That day... when the Garveys rode in, Ash, I remember Pa was coming out of the root cellar. I remember..."
"But why didn't he tell the Garveys from the first if he knew—"
"He knew from the beginning the bastards wouldn't leave any of us alive after they got their hands on the treasure. Wouldn't leave any witnesses to identify them. I think he was trying to play for time... find some way out." A shudder racked him. "He wasn't as lucky as we were, lady."
"Holy Mother MacCree!" Renny's astonished cry made them start, and they turned to see that the boy had scooted over to peer into the niche, his eyes round. He clapped a hand over his mouth. "Holy... Sister Ash, there's enough there to—to make us rich!"
"We're already rich, boy. Richer than I'd ever dreamed." Garret moved to look as well, dragging out a huge nugget, holding it in his hand.
"You could build a castle with all that gold," Liam said, awed. "A real castle. Bet you could even build a dragon if you wanted to."
"Don't be a goose, Liam," Shevonne broke in sharply, but then her voice softened, tinged with uncertainty. "The cabin's better than any old castle anyway. It's got a loft and... and a fireplace, and—and now it's got a real pa and ma."
"And children." Garret curved his arm about Shevonne's knees, drawing the child against his side. "My children."
Ashleen felt something burst inside her, the pain, the terror, a thousand gnawing doubts that had eaten at her conscience since the day she had fled the convent seeming to melt away, leaving behind the shimmering wonder of dreams turned real.
Grimacing with pain, Garret forced himself back to his feet, and he turned to where Ashleen stood, his wolf-gray eyes alight with tenderness, love.
"With this I could buy you anything you wanted, lady. Fine gowns, carriages. You'd never have to do without."
"I agree with Shevonne. There aren't any lofts in castles, Garret, and as for carriages... I'd rather watch the stars from the back of the wagon. With you."
Callused fingers traced her cheek, and Ashleen turned to press a kiss into Garret's palm.
His hands trembled as he paused and curved his fingers about her face as if it was wrought of angel mist.
"Then what would you say if we bundled all this gold up and sent it off to Ireland? To that Sister Agatha you loved so much? There's enough here to pay for a chalice, lady. And food for a hell of a lot of orphans." His voice was soft, so gentle, it branded itself forever on Ashleen's heart.
Her throat constricted with love, eyes blurring with tears. "I'd like that. I'd like it very much."
There was a tug at Garret's sleeve, and they looked down into Meggie's troubled features. "But the magic, Pa. Will it go away?"
With one strong arm Garret swooped the little girl into their embrace as Ashleen drew Liam, Shevonne, even Renny into a warm, wondrous hug.
"No, Meggie-mine," Garret said, his voice breaking. His gaze caught Ashleen's and held it, and there were tears in those wolf-gray eyes. "The magic is here. Forever."
