At first, Emma thought she had imagined the sounds of a dog barking. They had been searching for hours and the faint sound barely registered in her frantic mind. When it sounded again, she realized she was not imagining things. Her heart sped up faster than the wheels of an out of control train as she lifted her lantern higher.

"Grady?"

A small yip answered her call and she began to follow at a run.

"Grady!"

Running toward the sound, she scrambled down the rocky bank. Setting her lantern on the ground near where she had last heard the dog, she pushed through tangles of weeds and brush. At first, she didn't see Finbarr's muddied form in the darkness. But when her eyes adjusted, she saw Grady draped over his chest as though protecting him. Judging from the labored rise and fall of Finbarr's chest, he was still alive. Bruised and bloodied, but alive.

"Good dog," she murmured, scratching him behind his ears. Grady wagged his tail limply once before growing still. She gasped, tears pooling in her eyes. Grady's last act had been to save his master. She blinked back the tears, refusing to allow herself to be crushed by the weight of fear and grief she felt. Finbarr needed her.

"Someone help me!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "I've found him! Please, help me!"

She took one of his hands between hers. His fingers were like ice! Rubbing his fingers in her hand, she tried to get his blood circulating again. She had been the reason he had lost his sight, he would not lose his fingers because of her too.

"Someone please!" she called again, begging the unyielding darkness around them to produce someone who could help her get him back to safety. He was too heavy for her to carry on her own, she needed someone to come to her aid.

"Finbarr needs help!"

The darkness echoed back only silence, Finbarr's ragged breathing and the sound of the torrential water the only things she could hear. She held his hand close, pressing it to her cheek.

"Please don't leave me, Finbarr," she choked, tears falling down her cheeks before she could stop them. "I want a chance to tell you how much I love you. I've been such a little fool. Please, please come back and I swear we'll never be apart again."

The air was full of the groans of mighty trees wrung by the wind. She could tell another storm was brewing, their time was quickly becoming even more limited.

"Someone please," she sobbed, her voice cracking. "Please!"

An answering shout at last replied to her wail. "Is that you, Miss Emma?"

Tavish. Thank the heavens!

"Yes!" she replied. "Tavish come quickly, he's so cold!"

Footsteps crashed toward her and moments later, Tavish and the man who had been trying to prevent Finbarr from being swept away appeared. She was struck in that moment by how similar the two men appeared. They had the same dark hair, the same blue eyes...

"Begorra, he looks bad," the unknown man muttered under his breath as Tavish carefully but urgently stooped to pick Finbarr up. His arms hung limp at his sides, his lips blue as death threatened to cut the final string. "It's a wonder he's even still breathing, that current was mighty powerful."

Tavish shot the man a glare. "He won't be breathing anymore if we don't get a move on. Patrick, you take the dog, I'll carry Finbarr."

Emma stared as the two men glared at each other. There was some unspoken grievance between them, but what? Patrick...she'd heard that name before, but she didn't have time to puzzle over it now. Finbarr needed her.

Slipping one arm out of her coat, she began pulling it off to spread over Finbarr. The air had a nasty bite to it, but she didn't care. He needed the warmth more than she did.

"Don't do that, lass," Tavish scolded gently as she hurried to keep up with his long legs heading toward the town. "I'll give him mine. You need to keep warm."

She shook her head. "He'll likely need them both in order to stay warm. He's so cold, Tavish."

"But--"

She cut off his words abruptly. "Tavish, we don't have time for this. Grady was all that was keeping Finbarr alive. Now that he's dead, there won't be warmth for much longer. Stop arguing with me and help."

Tavish nodded his ascent, muttering something about stubborn women under his breath. Patrick stared wide-eyed at the dog he carried.

"Grady?"

"He named the dog after him," Tavish grunted. "Which you would have known if you'd bothered to tell anyone you were alive."

Suddenly, the facts came together in her mind. Patrick was one of the O'Connor brothers the family had thought lost to the war between the States only to discover he was very much alive several years ago. He hadn't sent so much as a word to his family in nearly twenty years, and now he was here.

Patrick's face was white as he gazed at the dog's lifeless form. "He died protecting him. Just like..."

He broke off, but she could guess the end of the sentence. Just like Grady O'Connor had died, likely protecting Patrick.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, putting a hand on his arm. He startled, as though realizing for the first time that she was there. "There's nothing you can do for Grady. But there is something you can do for Finbarr."

Patrick nodded, his jaw working as though he steeled himself against his rising emotions.

"He's a lot heavier than he used to be," Tavish grunted, the weight of the bundle he carried now showing in the perspiration dotting his brow. "I better tell him to lose some weight, the lazy bum."

Tavish's attempt at humor made her smile despite the rising fear that she might lose Finbarr. He had a way of lightening even the darkest of times.

As they approached town, Finbarr's father spotted them.

"Thank the heavens," he muttered, caressing one side of his son's bruised face. "I'll let the others know. Take him to the house."

Emma shook her head. "Our house is the closest. He needs to get warm as soon as possible. We have space."

"We couldn't put your family out, darling," Mr. O'Connor protested, but Emma, worn to a thread, stamped her foot. Her frustration broke and her voice grew louder.

"I don't think you, any of you, understand. I will not lose Finbarr, not when it's in my power to help save him. He lost his eyesight for me, the very least I can do for him is give him a soft, warm bed to recover in. No more arguments."

A look passed between Tavish and his father before Tavish nodded.

"Lead the way."

Emma gave a resolute nod, pivoting on her heel and marching off in the direction of home. She wouldn't lose Finbarr now. She couldn't lose Finbarr now.

As soon as they reached the house, Katie sprang into action. The fire was stoked, the mud was cleaned from Finbarr's skin, his bruises were tended to, the cuts and scrapes he had sustained were cleaned. Through it all, Emma stayed in a chair by his bedside, holding his hand like a lifeline.

She never left Finbarr's side, vigil even through the hours of the stormy darkness. She loved Finbarr, had always loved him. She could never be happy with anyone else. If she lost him, it would destroy her utterly. If he was taken away from her, she could not live.

Katie and Papa crept to her door before they went to bed, looking in on the two of them.

"Sweetheart, you need to sleep," Papa said gently, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I'll look after him."

Emma shook her head. "I can't, Papa. I can't leave him."

She felt as though she was the only thing keeping him tethered to this life. If she left him now, he would surely die. She clung to him as well, as though her own life depended on it.

"Let her stay," Katie murmured to Papa. "We'll be in the next room should she need anything."

Papa nodded, kissing the top of Emma's head. "Come get us if he wakes."

The remnants of the storm raged all night, and just when Emma thought dawn would never arrive, it peeked over the Wyoming hills, a small fringe of light on the skirts of darkness. A hush of hope fell over the world. She rose from her chair and crept to the window, opening it a crack. The freshness of morning caressed her face as she looked outside, helping to cool her dry, burning eyes.

"Please don't leave me, Finbarr," she murmured, moving back over to the bed. She sat down in the curve of his body, stroking a ginger lock away from his forehead. "I need you so badly. We'll be together forever. We never have to be apart again. Only come back to me."

Her strength crumbled and she sank down onto the bed beside him, her shoulders heaving with sobs. She wrapped an arm around him and cried like she'd never cried before. She cried out all the grief she'd kept inside for years. She didn't know when she had started praying out loud, but a soothing warmth spread through her as she spoke aloud all her sorrows and heartaches. Through the tears, she began to feel a measure of peace that she hadn't felt since the fire. The peace enveloped her in warmth until at last, she drifted off to sleep with her arm still pulled protectively around him.