She laid eyes on Dawn and stared for several moments before speaking. “I must talk with you.”
Dawn had wondered what the meeting between her and her true mother would be like if ever the possibility presented itself. And here it was. Dawn hesitated caught by the sight of her regal baring and lovely garments. She was tall and slender, much like Dawn, and she wore the most beautiful deep green velvet gown beneath an even deeper green fur-lined wool cloak. Her long brown hair that held not a trace of gray was wound in an artful design at the crown of her head, and though her features were plain they somehow caught the eye.
Dawn finally nodded, though worried that she was not going to like what the woman who gave birth to her had to say.
Old Mary got up and moved away from the table and Ann Gerwan sat.
“My daughter Lucerne told me about how a plain, voiceless woman had caught the heart of the mighty warrior Cree and that the crude McCluskys were here and Kirk McClusky claimed the voiceless woman to be his long lost daughter. Lucerne is praying that is so and that you will leave with the McCluskys and that Cree will see that your departure is for the best.”
Dawn wondered if Ann felt the same and continued to stare at the woman waiting for her to go on.
Ann wrung her hands nervously in front of her on the table. “By now I am sure that Kirk has told you about him and me.”
Dawn confirmed that with a nod.
“I feel I owe you an explanation for the decision I made those many years ago. It was not an easy choice that I made, but a necessary one. I knew Roland would never accept a—damaged—child. He would see to it that you died before the day was through and I would not see harm come to you.” Ann nodded to Old Mary. “She was the healer who attended me at your birth and I begged her to take you away and keep you safe. The problem was I needed a babe to replace you. Mary found one and brought her to me…” A tear slipped down Ann’s cheek. “The tiny babe settled comfortably in my arms, as if she knew it was where she belonged. Both your lives were miraculously saved that night and I believe it was the way it was meant to be. At least it is what I have told myself these many years so that it made my difficult choice somewhat bearable.”
Dawn rested a hand to her stomach, the fear of having to face such a horrifying choice roiling her stomach. And she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for this woman who was her mother and yet a stranger to her.
“I had no idea what Mary did with you and I did not want to know. I was glad that she disappeared that night and never returned. I thought she had taken you far away and it would have been better if she had.”
Her words stung, though Dawn did not show the pain they caused. She remained stoic and listened.
“Lucerne has been my daughter these many years and I loved her as I would have loved you, just as I am certain that the woman who raised you loved you as her own. I made a difficult choice then and I make another now.” She took a deep breath, as if needing to fortify herself for what she was about to say. “I cannot and I will not acknowledge you as my daughter. It would mean death for not only you, but Lucerne and myself. Roland would never forgive my infidelity or my betrayal in passing off a peasant’s child as his own.” She clutched her hands together. “I am begging you to save not only your life, but Lucerne’s and mine and leave with your father and never look back, never return to Cree.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Dawn stared at her mother. She had sent Dawn away years ago to save her and herself and now she was asking Dawn to willingly go away this time. Her mother hadn’t seemed the least bit interested in her. She hadn’t even bothered to ask how Dawn felt about Cree. Her only thought was for Dawn to sacrifice as she once did and continued to do.
Dawn stood and tapped her chest, and then her head.
Ann stood flustered. “I don’t understand.”
Dawn shook her head. She was right about that. Ann Gerwan did not understand her daughter at all.
Old Mary stepped forward. “Dawn says she will think on it.”
“What do you mean you will think on it?” Ann demanded. “You have no choice; you must go away.”
Dawn bristled at her command and threw her shoulders back and her head up. She ran two fingers across the palm of her hand, jabbed toward Ann, then tapped her chest and shook her head.