Songbirds pulled her from sleep to the bright morning sun, the cool air of the canyon floor refreshing on her skin. A small fire was burning low, indicating Lane had been up already. She glanced around, but there was no sign of him. Slowly sitting up, she allowed the normally cheerful expression on her face to fade.

Last night returned to her mind, a bittersweet moment that made her want to cry. He knew. Somehow, he felt it, but... explaining would have been impossible. So, she had done the only thing she could. Ignored his questions until he'd grown irritated and sullen, leaving her alone. They slept separately for the first time in weeks, hardly looking at each other.

The moment he opened his eyes after she found him, she knew Lane was no longer the man he was. No spark danced in his eyes. No flicker of recognition greeted her. The future had depended on him. Everything had, so now... her sigh was quiet.

All her hopes had been built on his promise, dreams she had never dared give life to before, thinking them hopelessly out of reach. He had swept into her life like a force of nature, a storm that flattened out everything around it and cleared the land for new growth. His arrival brought seeds of change to her world, sunlight and fresh air. He hadn't seen it then, his eyes blinded by the past, too much hatred and anger in his heart. Over time, though, he had changed. He had risked everything for her, just as she had for him.

Those who left him for dead would still be looking for her, scouring the country for a sign of where she had gone. The man who held her in slavery for the last eighteen years would not give her up so easily, especially before he got what he wanted. He was accustomed to getting what he wanted, by any means necessary. Even if it meant brutal cruelty- physically shaking the thought from her mind, she picked at some of the cooked meat left from the night before, trying to force her mind to more pleasant thoughts.

Bile worked its way up her throat and she coughed, suddenly feeling so dirty she couldn't stand it. Hurriedly tugging free of her shift, Harmony splashed clumsily into the cold water of the pool. A rock rolled underfoot, throwing her forward as she sank. The rush of water against her skin, tingling across her scalp, brought a sense of calm. The water was clear and soft against her eyes as she drifted to the bottom, watching freshwater fish dart away. Here, her tears meant nothing, washed away without a trace.

Looking up through the floating web of her hair, Harmony stared at the surface. How the light played across the water, the sun a soft, beautiful orb of pale yellow. When her lungs began to tighten, she pushed from the sandy bottom toward the surface, her head and shoulders breaking the water with a splash. Panting, she swam to the shore, climbing out with shaky legs.

The rock was warm and dry, so stretching out, Harmony let the moisture evaporate from her skin. A dismal thought crept into her mind, unwelcome and unwanted. Perhaps it would be better to go back, to give herself up to save them both. Even as she considered it, Harmony knew Lane would never allow it. He would go with her, and they'd kill him. Even now, though he was already lost to her, she couldn't do it.

Turning her head, she studied the faint markings on the canyon walls, drawings painted on stone before recorded time. It triggered a series of memories that rushed over her like a flood.

"That one...I want that one, and I'll leave your people alone!" Cold, harsh, his voice was without mercy.

"She is my daughta, not yet a woman. Dere are uddas, dose who already know..."

"Give her to me or your people will die!"

"You will care for hea, keep hea well and happy?" helpless against it, the desperate father objected to giving up his wife's child.

"You try my patience! My boys here are tired of your people stealing livestock to feed yourselves, and they have bad tempers. She is the price for your lives!"

The accusation was false, they all knew it, but what was that to loaded guns? How could he protect his people against such a powerful force?

"Leave us in peace and take my daughta." With bitter resignation, he gave in, tears in his eyes.

"Caleb! Get the girl and bring her along!"

The small tribe of twenty or so began to cry out in shock and disapproval as the white man strode through them, grabbing the unfortunate girl by the arm. Several of the men moved forward to intercept them but the remaining riders brought up their weapons, ready to begin a mass slaughter. Confusion broke out among the clan, but the elder's voice rose above it.

"Be still! Let her go!" he held up his arms, palms toward his people. "Be still!"

They quieted as they looked at their tribal head, waiting for him to explain why this was happening. Only the women still wailed softly in protest.

"Our White Brother has demanded tribute for his protection, and my daughter willingly goes to ensure the peace of our people!"

Dissention rose among them but not a man moved to step in on the girl's behalf. She was taken and put up on the horse in front of the man who had demanded her from her tribe. Recoiling from his foreign smell and touch, she leaned toward her father, reaching for him. Despair filled her as her father only stood, watching.

The scuff on boots against rock caused her to jump and Harmony sat up, looking around. Lane was returning but had not yet come into sight. Scrambling upright, she grabbed for her dress, knowing he never seemed comfortable seeing her without it. That was the way among the whites, she had learned, somehow the naked body made them uneasy. She was smoothing out the thin fabric when he appeared, his eyes bright and clear.

"Good morning," he smiled. "You've been for a swim," he commented, noting her damp hair. As if last night had never happened.

Yes.

"Seems like a fine idea, perhaps I'll go for a swim later," his light tone and cheerful expression stung. Did he not care at all? Or had he forgotten?

Unable to rebury her memories, or fasten down the raw emotions, Harmony struggled to control her expression. Her nails dug into her palms from how hard she clenched her fists.

"Is something wrong?" A thread of unease crept into his tone, seeing her agitation. He'd wanted to treat her as though everything was alright, to assure her he bore no ill will despite their disagreement the night before.

No, her answer was distracted, and he saw moisture build up and then vanish from her eyes.

"You can tell me." His voice was soft and concerned. "What's wrong?"

No wrong, she signed, her eyes beginning to burn slightly as darkness swept through her. The feeling that she was utterly alone.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" Apparently, his assumption to behave as if nothing had happened was a misguided judgment on his part. "If it is about last night, I-"

No! Her signal was harsh. Anger flared to the surface, grief, desperation, and fear, all aimed at him. You stop! No talk!

"Harmony..." Lane reached out to her but for the first time, she jerked away. Eyes hot with rage, her lips pulled back in a snarl of disgust.

No!

It exaggerated her scarred features, and he recoiled a little at the sight. His reaction cut her to the heart, sick with disappointment. Unable to bear having him stare at her, she whirled around and took off running. His hasty call to wait faded as she kept running.

Heart breaking, she paid no attention to where she was going, wanting only to escape, to find a place where she would not feel like an abomination. Stumbling to her knees, she cried out, leaving a crimson streak across the rock. The pain made her angry. Shoving to her feet, she pushed through trees and brush, splashing across ponds of shallow water.

Heart beating with a fierce intensity, her mind whirled with a mix of emotion and memories. The figures painted on the walls around her closed in.

Terrified cries filled her ears and she covered them with her hands, trying to block out the sound inside her mind. Staggering, she came to a bend in the canyon, a wide-open space spreading out before her. More paintings were on the walls, figures all in white, large black eyes seeming to peer right at her no matter where she turned. They were sitting around a fire, standing, lying down, some were floating above the ground, but all were watching her. Loud echoes of thunder made her tremble, confusion and panic everywhere, men falling where they stood, women and children screaming.

Sinking to her knees keening loudly, she tried to fight off the memories. Her eyes shut tight, large tears rolled down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth. The burning powder from the white men's weapons stung her nose and throat, their shouts and laughter echoing in her ears. Her wails grew louder and more distressed as memories swamped her, dragging her into the past.

Struggling hard she twisted free of the man's grasp and quickly ran away, terrified. Without looking back she could hear the pounding thunder of hooves as she was run down. Hit from behind, a grown man crushed her to the ground as he leaped off his horse, landing on top of her. Screaming and fighting did no good and she was quickly overpowered. Though she twisted and struggled she was pinned to the earth. The man called Caleb held her there, leering down at her until the others joined him.

The leader, the one her father called the White Brother knelt over her, his green eyes cold and frightening. He reached out and tightly gripped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him.

"You know English girl?" he asked in his tongue.

"I speak little," she answered, her heart beating so fast it almost hurt.

"You won't say anything about what happened here, will you," he indicated the area behind them, where the bodies of her people now lay scattered and silent. "They attacked us."

"No! You lie!" she spat the words at him, hatred burning in her eyes. "I tell true!"

Sighing, he shook his head.

"Unreasonable, just like your mother." He stood and spoke softly to the man holding her down. "Make sure she never says a word."

In horror, the girl watched as Caleb turned back to her with a dark smile. She struggled but was still held down, fear writhing in her breast. Caleb pulled a sharp knife from his belt and knelt, prying her mouth open as he looked into her eyes.

"He don't need you for talk girl."

Shrieking, she curled into a ball, rocking hard. Strong arms curled around her, but it was suffocating in her panic. Twisting wildly, she struck at him, clawing free. When his hold loosened, she scrambled back, nearly blinded by tears. A feral howl of protest froze him when Lane tried to move closer.

She was beyond reasoning, locked in fight or flight panic, shaking so hard her entire body vibrated from the force of it.

"I am here," he offered quietly. "I am here, and you're safe..."

Clawing at her throat, Harmony struggled for breath, eyes glassy and wild. His voice was so far away...

"Harmony," trying again, he settled to the rock, hands up, palms out. "It's over. Whatever happened, it's over. You're safe."

A strangled cry left her lips but her eyes met his, curved fingers dropping shakily into her lap. Raw red welts were vibrant against her rich dark skin. Tangled strands of hair clung to her face like webbing but neither made a move to brush it aside.

"You're safe." Watching her accept his words, he remained motionless, not wanting to trigger another wave of panic.

Slowly edging toward him, Harmony cautiously tucked herself into the warmth and security of his chest. When his arm started to curl around her, she flinched away. He immediately pulled it back. After a moment she tried again, nestling her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh.

Instead of holding her, he sat still, allowing her to feel safe without being trapped in an unwanted embrace. A thrush called from somewhere above them and he looked that way, finally noticing the drawings covering the canyon walls. A chill snaked up his spine. What was this place?

A movement made him look down, smiling faintly as her arms wrapped around him tightly. Gingerly curling his arms around her shoulders, he waited to see if she would protest. When she didn't, he held her closer, laying his cheek against her hair.

"I'm here," he murmured. Her answering nod was brief but the warmth flooding his chest stayed.

They stayed there until her hip began to ache and his shoulder became numb. Pushing free to wipe her face, shame over her outburst left her unsure of what to say. A gentle finger slid under her chin, his hand caressing the distorted flesh of her face. Looking right into her eyes, his expression was tender.

"If I am to blame for any part of your unhappiness, I am sorry."

Not you, she signed hesitantly. How could she explain her feelings? Or her memories? Or how his look of disgust had broken her fragile heart? It wasn't his fault.

"It is a little bit, though, is it not?" Prodding her, an eyebrow lifted. "I know I hurt you, but it was not intentional."

We good, her assurance was genuine but subdued. I not angry. Little sad.

"Can I do anything to help?" framing her face in both hands, he stared into her eyes. "It's my turn to start caring for you for a change."

Pain flashed through her eyes, a shadow crossing her expression but gone the next instant. If only he knew how those words hurt!

I happy you want, no do, her gestures were small. I happy.

"I do not believe you are, but if you do not want anything from me right now, it's fine." Leaning closer, he rested his forehead against hers. "I am here if you should change your mind."

Eyes closed her fingertips lifted to touch the edge of his jaw. Stiff hair tickled her skin, but she didn't mind. The ever-present ache in her heart made her push free of him, looking away so she did not start crying again.

Her gaze wandered over the ritual drawings and sacred images on the walls. These were special places of memory and magic, where the souls of the dead found their way to peace. Perhaps there was a reason they found their way here.

"Please, do not ever run away from me again," his voice turned her gaze back to him. "I was worried about you."

No need worry- she started but he cut her off.

"I was worried." The vague notion of having felt something for her grew stronger. Too strong to completely ignore or deny. "I care about you."

You not know me. She countered, averting her face but he caught her chin, lifting it.

"Not as well as before, no, but I do know you. And I do care." Utterly serious, his features were set. "I do not like it when you are sad, especially when it is my fault."

Fingers curled around his wrist, eyes locked, his pulse increasing under her thumb.

"Are we still gone?"

She thought about that for a long moment, nostrils flexing wide to keep her breathing even.

Yes.