Old Mary interpreted again. “You run; I don’t.”
“That’s nonsense,” Ann said, her face pinched in a frown. “I do what must be done. Your selfishness will see us all suffer.”
Dawn glared at the woman, turned, and left the cottage, striding past Elwin shaking her head. He followed close on her heels and the other warriors flanked her sides, keeping pace with her. Her anger mounted with each forceful step. When she reached her cottage, she marched right in and shoved the door shut behind her. She paced in front of the table, her chest heaving, and her anger showing no signs of abating.
That woman certainly was no mother to her. Ann Gerwan cared not a whit for her. She had accepted Lucerne as her daughter and why not? The young woman was beautiful in all ways and she had a voice. What woman wouldn’t want a daughter like her compared to Dawn.
Dawn sank down on a chair, her hand grabbing the table. Ann had talked about holding Lucerne in her arms and how she had been so content. Dawn wondered if Ann had even bothered to hold her or had a damaged daughter been too much not only for the father but the mother as well?
She was also growing ever more frustrated with everyone claiming that they were trying to protect her—keep her safe—when truly what they were doing were deciding her fate with no thought to her own desires. Her mother had taught her that survival sometimes meant finding the strength and courage to do the things you didn’t think you could do. She had called on that courage the day Colum had informed her that she would please the prisoner Cree in whatever way he wanted. She needed to call on that courage again, but for what? Did she do what Ann Gerwan ask, what her father also wanted? Or did she do as the man she loved asked of her and trust him that all would work out well?
She knew the answer, had known it all along. It had never truly been a question in her mind. She would trust Cree; she would always trust Cree for from the moment they met he had never failed her. He may be dictatorial and demanding but she was beginning to see that he acquiesced to her more than he realized. And that knowledge not only made her feel loved but made her feel powerful, something she had never felt before.
She jumped up and began pacing again. She was angry with Ann Gerwan all over again. The woman hadn’t shown an ounce of endearment toward her or cared what she asked of her. It seemed to Dawn that her life did not matter to Ann. All that mattered was that Dawn obeyed her command and leave, no talk of any other possible solution.
Dawn heard a knock at the door and stopped pacing.
Flanna entered and stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Dawn. She hurried to close the door, set the basket down, and went straight to her reaching out to slip her cloak off before easing her down in a chair. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”
Flanna had become a good and trusted friend, but Dawn thought it would not be wise of her to talk of what just happened for various reasons. One being that she feared if anyone realized that Flanna knew something she could possibly be made to suffer for it. She did however intend to be honest, to a degree. She tapped her chest, pressed a finger to her closed lips, and shook her head.
“You cannot tell me?”
Dawn nodded.
“You don’t have to, I think I know. It has something to do with Ann Gerwan.”
Dawn looked puzzled. How could she know that?
Flanna grabbed the basket from by the door and placed it on the table. She was quick to take a jug from it and fill a tankard. “A special wine Cree is serving this evening in honor of the Gerwan’s arrival, though Ann Gerwan arrived only a few moments ago and seemed quite agitated and flushed to the surprise of her husband and daughter who appeared rather pale. I tell you there is something wrong with that young woman… crazy if you ask me.”
Dawn smiled and wondered if perhaps Flanna was right.
“So Lady Gerwan finally sits herself down, and then downs a whole goblet of wine as if she was parched beyond reason. Then she chugs down another quick one after that and starts blathering about how pleased she is that her beautiful daughter and Cree will soon wed.”
Dawn’s smile faltered some at the thought of them wedding, but then she recalled Cree’s words to trust him and so her smile once again brightened.
“And poor Sloan,” Flanna said with a chuckle. “Cree has assigned him, actually it’s a punishment for not protecting you well enough, to guard Lucerne. At least that’s the way she looks at it. Cree on the other hand wants to know what his intended is up to at all times.” Flanna shook her head. “Sloan is not a happy man and I don’t blame him. Who would want to be around that harpy all day?”