Hidden

In a desperate attempt to secure a roof over her younger sister’s head, nineteen year old Allie Winthrop takes a job that no one else seemed too eager to apply for. The job is a maid position for a well to do family who had made a fortune in both the ranching and railroad industries.

Her bosses, Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell, aren’t exactly the friendliest of people. Pure snobs truly is what they are, but Allie is used to being looked down on by the wealthy. All she cares about is that the jobs pays well and offers room and board to not only her but her sister, Amelia. The Treadwell’s had even agreed to allow Amelia to get schooling from the woman they employed to teach their own children.

Life with the Treadwell’s is better than the life that Allie and Amelia had known before and Allie feels content and secure until Amelia starts speaking of a man in the attic. Spurred by her sisters stories and by the Treadwell’s startling reactions to her questions about the attic, Allie decides to take a look for herself.

What she discovers there will change her life forever.

Chapter One: The Only Applicant

Chapter One: The Only Applicant

Eastern Colorado

1880

“You have a stain on your dress,” Amelia stated pointing at the offensive spot that was marring up Allie’s light brown skirt.

Allie wiped at it desperately and bit her lip, “I can only hope they don’t notice.”

She took a last glance in the tiny mirror and pinched her thin, pale cheeks to add a bit of color. She had to impress these people. She had to get this job.

She looked over at her young sister sitting in the arm chair in the large entry room of this grand dining hall and winced. Amelia was so skinny and, while Allie had scrubbed the eight year olds skin clean, she had been unable to get all the dirt smudges and stains from her threadbare apricot colored dress.

In order for the sisters to have a place to lay their heads past tonight it would be necessary to get the job she had seen offered. Allie and Amelia had run from the orphanage they’d been trapped inside nearly six months ago the moment Allie had been old enough and they’d simply been living off the generosity of others as they went from town to town. That generosity was proving itself to be wearing thin as of late.

Allie was far too old at the age of nineteen to gain much sympathy and most people assumed Amelia was her daughter upon first sight of them. Allie knew that spoke to how haggard her appearance had become. It was not her fault. Living a life with little food and no real idea where you would lay your head at night tended to age a person.

One of the heavy wooden double doors to the main dining hall opened and a colored woman with a soft waist and kind brown eyes stepped out, “They’re ready for ya, suga’,” she said kindly.

Allie swallowed hard and laid a hand over her nerve-ridden stomach. What if she failed? What would happen to Amelia?

“You can do this, Allie. Don’t be scared,” Amelia assured with a comforting smile.

Allie nodded, “You stay out here and wait on me.” After a nod from Amelia, Allie breathed deeply and followed the woman into the large dining hall.

The hall was empty. The rows of dark, heavy tables were decorated with sterling silver candlesticks, crystal glasses and pristine white linens. The bar was dark wood and colorful bottles lined the shelves behind it. Allie wondered just how much money the patrons who frequented this fancy establishment must possess. She was certain it was more money then she had ever laid her eyes on.

“Hurry up, girl, we do not have all day,” a sharp female voice snapped. Allie turned her gaze to a round table in the far right corner beside a tall window and she quickly headed toward it and the two smartly dressed people that sat there.

Mrs. Treadwell had the look of an aging woman desperately attempting to hang on to the beauty of her youth. Her graying dark hair was all pulled back in a fancy chignon and her face was lightly powdered. Gemstones were clipped onto her ears and hanging around her neck. She had cold blue eyes, pale skin and wrinkles around her mouth that Allie suspected had been caused by scowling.

Mr. Treadwell was a very handsome man. He too had dark hair. His was slicked back on his head and gray at his temples. He had a well trimmed mustache above his thin lips and his brown eyes were a bit warmer than his wife’s but not by much as he looked Allie up and down much like a man appraising cattle.

She shifted awkwardly under both intense scrutiny’s. She knew that her threadbare and stained pink blouse and brown skirt were a far cry from the tailored and impeccable clothing they both wore and a quick glance at her feet revealed the sight of her big toe beneath the fraying leather of her boot.

“What is your name, girl?” Mrs. Treadwell asked.

“Allie Winthrop, ma’am,” Allie replied politely.

“You are awfully skinny, dear,” Mr. Treadwell sniffed. “Do you truly believe you’re strong enough for the many duties we will require of you?”

“Yes, sir,” Allie assured him. These people were certainly not worried about politeness. They had not even offered to allow her to take a seat before insulting her.

“Have you ever taken care of a home before?” Mrs. Treadwell questioned.

“I had many chores at the orphanage where I spent most of my time growing up, ma’am.”

The pair bent their heads low and whispered among themselves for several long moments. Allie cast a glance at the colored woman and she gave her a comforting smile before looking back down at the floor.

“You will have many duties,” Mr. Treadwell began and Allie felt her heart pound. Did that mean she had gotten the job? That quickly? That easily?

Her body practically buzzed with excitement, “Yes, sir,”

Mrs. Treadwell looked down her nose at her, “You’ll be expected to keep the housework up, help serve meals and keep the flowerbeds looking nice and neat outside the house; along with any other tasks we ask of you. The laundry will also fall into your chore list.”

“Of course, m’am.”

“Your pay will be thirty dollars a month and you will have room and board included. We will give you half of the first months pay upfront so you can buy some appropriate attire. I will not have someone dressed so poorly associated with my home.”

Allie felt the sting of Mrs. Treadwell’s veiled insult deep under her skin but she smiled and let it slide. It was not the first time that a rich lady had looked down upon her, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Someone will be in town tomorrow morning at precisely eight-thirty to pick you up and escort you to our home. We do not tolerate tardiness.” Mr. Treadwell informed her.

“I’ll be ready, sir.” Allie bit her lip; here came the wrench in the gears that might just change their minds. “Can I make a request?”

Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell shared a looked of amusement and then looked back at her. Mr. Treadwell adjusted his suit jacket while Mrs. Treadwell folded her immaculate hands on her lap, “What is your request, Allie?”

“I have a sister; she is eight. It had only been the two of us for a long time. Can she come stay at your home as well? You can take the money from my pay for her room and board. I promise you she is very well behaved–”

Mrs. Treadwell held up her hand and Allie’s mouth snapped closed. When Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell once again bowed their heads, Allie looked down at her feet and watched her wiggling toe while trying to ignore the nerves eating at her stomach.

“Your sister may stay as well and we will be taking five dollars a month from your pay,” Mrs. Treadwell’s sudden words had Allie’s head snapping back up. “But she had better not be the cause any trouble or we will have to ask you both to leave.”

Allie fought back the tears that filled her eyes, “Oh she won’t be trouble! Thank you both so much!”

“Do not thank us,” Mr. Treadwell intoned dryly. “This is not charity; you will work very hard to earn your pay as well as your sister’s keep. I have one condition for your sister.”

“What?” Allie questioned with trepidation. She didn’t want her sister to be forced to be a maid as well, though Allie knew it would be no less than what she’d done at the age of eight.

Mr. Treadwell sniffed again. Allie had never heard a man who sniffed quite so much. Perhaps the man was getting a cold? “She must attend the lessons with our children when their tutor comes to visit four times a week. The lessons are long and grueling but I will not have an uneducated child associated with our home.”

“Of course!” Allie’s jaw dropped with disbelief. Not only would she have money to care for her sister, but they would have a roof over their heads, food in their stomach and Amelia would get an education. This was truly more than Allie could have ever asked for or imagined.

“It is settled then,” Mrs. Treadwell stated. She pulled out a jewel encrusted money pouch from her pocket and took out several paper bills of money. She held them out toward Allie who was quick to take them and shove them deep in her skirt pocket. “Get one ready made outfit for both you and your sister to wear tomorrow and order two more a piece to be made for you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And be sure you are ready at eight-thirty in the morning.” Mr. Treadwell added.

“Oh I will, sir!” Allie practically bounced with excitement as the colored woman led her back out of the dining hall and into the entry way.

Amelia jumped to her feet and then laughed happily when she recognized the joy on her sister’s face. The two embraced.

“Our worries are over, Amelia. We have a home now,” Allie assured her sister.

The colored woman cleared her throat and Allie turned to look at her, “I hope you got some thick skin, suga’,” she said sadly. “You’re gonna need it. There’s a reason you were the only person to apply for this job.”

As Allie and Amelia stepped out into the sunshine, Allie refused to let the woman’s words pull her down. Finally things were looking up for her and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

In order to ensure her sister had a better life Allie would be happy to endure a couple of snobs and their judgments.

Chapter Two: Sprawling Mansions and Forgotten Shadows

Chapter Two:

Sprawling Mansions and Forgotten Shadows

Allie’s jaw dropped when the huge mansion home came into view. Never had she seen a home so vast. It had an eerie kind of beauty as mist still hung in the air across the surrounding plains and vines covered the stones and bricks of the three story home.

The flowerbeds were overgrown with weeds and the home looked almost abandoned; forgotten as it stood in the middle of nowhere and nature moved in to take it over. It was a sharp contrast to the neat and tidy barns and corrals and the fences that stretched out as far as Allie could see in all directions.

“Is this where we’re going to live?” Amelia whispered from the back of the cart.

Allie turned her head and nodded at the girl, “Yes it is.”

“It’s so big…” Amelia’s brown eyes were wide as she stared at the house. “And spooky,” she added, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I’m sure it’s going to be wonderful, Amelia.”

The man driving the cart grunted but said nothing. Allie eyed him suspiciously and wondered if there was something about this place she didn’t know. It seemed that everyone she had met so for that worked for the Treadwell’s did not seem overly fond of them. But they had to be good people deep down, didn’t they? They had taken her sister in without question when they could have turned them both away. Allie certainly wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions or judgments about the pair simply based off of the opinions of others.

Activity was buzzing around the barns and corrals. Men in work stained clothes, sweat rimmed hats and worn chaps were working with horses and cattle, shouting back and forth to one another, talking, laughing and clearly enjoying their work.

Allie shifted uncomfortably in the cart seat when the men noticed the cart approaching and turned to catch a glance of the newcomers. She fussed with the prim and proper updo she had swept her hair into that morning and wrapped her shawl tighter around the shoulders of her new blue blouse. The early morning air still held a chill though it was April.

The driver, who had introduced himself as Frank, stopped the cart beside the stone walkway and jumped down before reaching out to help both Allie and Amelia down as well.

“I’ll see you both inside,” he offered as he grabbed their single worn and tattered leather case of belongings. Allie took Amelia’s hand in her and led her up the walk. The rocks were uneven and grass and weeds were jutting up between the stones. It was quite untidy and didn’t fit the image that both Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell had given off just yesterday.

Allie found her eyes drawn upward to a tiny window at the very peak of the large house. She was certain she saw movement flash through the filthy panes of glass but before she could watch for it happen again Frank called for her to hurry.

“Hurry along now. Mrs. Treadwell does not like to be kept waiting,” he warned. Allie quickly followed after him and she forgot completely about the window when she stepped inside the massive home.

A grand staircase stood before her, winding it’s way to a second floor. The chandelier above Allie’s head was covered in glittering crystals and the room sparkled with its light. She glanced to the right and saw what seemed to be a sitting room.

The furniture was all gleaming dark wood. Brass and silver glittered in every direction. The walls were a cheerful yellow plaster and adorned halfway up by wallpaper covered in golden fleur-de-lis designs. A stone fireplace with a heavy mantle took up much of the back wall of the grand room. Paintings of people, Allie assumed they were family portraits, and of nature scenes were scattered here and there upon the walls.

Everything here spoke of money and it was all cleaned and polished until it shone with brilliance. Such a stark contrast to the outside.

Allie and Amelia followed Frank down a long hallway. The floor beneath their feet was stone tile; marble if Allie had to guess. Of course she had never actually seen marble but she had heard of it. Chandeliers, a bit smaller than the one in the entryway, dangled above their heads lighting the way and they stepped into a dining room with a table large enough to easily fit twenty guests.

Sitting at the table with a bowl of oats and a boiled egg was Mrs. Treadwell, “You’re late,” she accused Frank sharply.

“I am sorry, ma‘am. I had a bit of trouble with one of the horses on the way to town and…”

“And I am not interested in hearing excuses. You may set their bags down and you may leave my home and get back to your job.”

Frank tipped his hat and muttered a quick, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ before fleeing back the way he had come. Allie and Amelia stood there clutching hands and wondering what to say or do. They were both quite overwhelmed by their new surroundings.

Mrs. Treadwell rose to her feet with a rustling of her voluminous skirts and appraised them both with a glance, “I will not require any work from you today, Allie. Today you will get acquainted with the home and those inside of it. I will give you a short tour and a list of the duties that will be expected of you tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Allie replied politely to Mrs. Treadwell’s clipped tone. She tipped her head toward Amelia, “This is my sister, Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Amelia greeted with a small curtsy that Mrs. Treadwell seemed to appreciate. It nearly caused her thin lips to curve into what could almost be considered a small grin.

“Come along now,” Mrs. Treadwell turned with a swishing of skirts. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our home is quite large and this tour is sure to take a bit of time.”

Allie was overwhelmed by the time they reached the third floor which was where she was told she and her sister would be sleeping. This house was massive and she was quite certain she would die of exhaustion trying to complete the chore list that Mrs. Treadwell had given her. But it simply had to be done and she wouldn’t complain. This was what was best for Amelia.

“My husband and our two youngest sons are not at home today but they will be back first thing in the morning. Amelia, your lessons will start tomorrow as well.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Amelia sounded less than thrilled and Allie shot her a sharp look. “Thank you for the opportunity to further my education, Mrs. Treadwell.” she added, the words coming out sounding very rehearsed since that’s exactly what they were.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

They passed a dark entryway that led to a small cubby of space, rickety stairs and a heavy looking door with chipped and faded paint.

Amelia stopped and stared at the rather frightening doorway, “What is up there?” she asked with all the curiosity of an eight year old.

Mrs. Treadwell visibly stiffened. She got behind Amelia and shooed her forward, “Nothing for you or your sister to be concerning yourselves with. I’m quite certain neither of you will ever have cause to enter that room.”

“But what’s in there?” Amelia questioned again.

“It’s only an attic,” Mrs. Treadwell snapped. “Full of nothing but worthless old belongings that no one cares for or remembers. The doors stays locked to that room and you’ll have no reason to enter. Do you understand?”

Allie and Amelia shared a look and Allie wondered what Mrs. Treadwell was so desperate to keep hidden, “Of course, ma’am,. Amelia was only curious. The mind of an eight year old is full of questions.”

Mrs. Treadwell’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “Yes I suppose it is.” Mrs. Treadwell ushered them further down the hall but not before Allie was certain she heard a scuffling sound behind the attic door.

“And here is your room,” Mrs. Treadwell led the sisters into a room that was bigger and more luxurious than either had ever had before. The bed was massive and had a delicate lace canopy draped over it. The walls were covered in a silk wallpaper that was covered in dainty designs of pinks and light greens. There was a changing curtain against one wall and a large vanity painted white with a cushioned chair and gilded mirror.

A chaise lounge was beside the spacious glass paned window. A fireplace was nestled into the far wall and the dressers and wardrobes were dark, polished and gleaming wood. The floor beneath their feet was covered in a rug so soft it felt as if they were walking on a cloud.

“This is beautiful,” Allie whispered.

“Yes, well it’s one of our smaller rooms but I trust it will suffice for you and your sister.”

Allie and Amelia nodded as both of them simply stared around the room, taking in all the rich details, “Yes.. Yes this will certainly suffice,” Amelia mumbled.

“We’ll be having a midday meal at one if you would like to join me and supper is served promptly at seven. Tomorrow you will be helping with the meals, Allie.”

“Yes ma’am,” Allie replied politely.

Mrs. Treadwell gave a curt nod and left the room, closing the door gently as she went.

Allie and Amelia stared at one another a moment and then Amelia squealed with glee and took off running for the bed. She leapt into it and the luxurious blankets seemed to swallow her whole.

“Allie! Allie, you have to feel this! It’s like I’ve fallen asleep in the clouds.”

Allie smiled and sat down their small case before walking to the bed and climbing into it with only slightly less enthusiasm than her sister had displayed. Amelia was right. This bed was pure heaven and Allie wasn’t sure at all she’d be able to pull herself out of it.

“Mrs. Treadwell doesn’t seem real friendly,” Amelia stated rolling onto her stomach and picking at the lush blankets.

“No, but she was kind enough to take you in and that’s all that matters to me. And this is a much better home than any we’ve known before,” Allie reminded her.

“Still, she sure is expecting a lot from you.”

“Yes..” Allie sighed. “But she is paying me well for doing it and she is going to ensure you get schooling as well. I cannot ask for more than that.”

“Ugh,” Amelia flopped onto her back, “Schooling.” The word came out sounding like a curse.

“It will be good for you, Amelia.”

“If you say so…. What do you think is in that attic?”

“Old boxes and worthless trinkets no doubt,” Allie replied, allowing her eyes to slip closed. “Rich people have more belongings than they could every possibly hope to know what to do with.”

“I wonder if..”

“Amelia, please be quiet. Let’s simply lay here and enjoy the fact that we’re in a big soft bed and there is absolutely nothing that we should be doing.”

---

Allie and Amelia ; two very pretty names. Two new members to the household staff. He wondered how long these would last. No one ever seemed to last long here. His lips curved in a crooked, angry smile; none came back after gazing at him; the monster. He did not blame them. He had long ago broken all the mirrors in this dusty attic just so he would not have to look upon his own face.

Moving silently, and cursing the pain in his misshapen body, he dragged his all but useless left leg behind him, the forgotten shadow in his attic bedroom made his way to his bed which was little more than few sacks stuffed with old rags upon the floor. He pulled the knife from under the sacks and slowly made his way to the wall.

The walls were covered in carvings he had made over the last eighteen years. Eighteen long years he’d been trapped inside here, seeing nothing but these four dusty walls and what small view he had through the dirty, stained window. But it was his room. It was his home. And he was terrified at the thought of ever sharing his space or being forced out. Better off alone here than out there with people who would look upon him with fear and disgust.

He slowly began to etch into the wood cursing the pain his crooked hand. His work was done quickly Amealya and Aley now adorned his wall. He wondered when he would be scratching them out just as he had many names before.

Chapter Three: Suspicions and Tempers

Chapter Three: Suspicions and Tempers

“Allie, I hate it here,” Amelia whined the next day just after lunch. It was the first time since they’d gone to sleep last night that they’d been able to sit and talk.

“Why?” Allie questioned as she sat down on a small bench on the back porch and let the breeze tease her hair. She had been working hard since five that morning and she was already nearly dead on her feet and not even halfway through her chore list for the day. There was no possible way to get it all done and yet she had figure it out… somehow.

“That schooling is hard and those boys are mean to me,” Amelia replied sadly.

Allie sighed, “Amelia, that schooling is good for you. You’ll be grateful for it later. And what did Peter and Jacob do to you that was so awful? Allie questioned, referring to Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell’s eight and ten year old sons. She had been told they also had a twenty-two year old son named Theodore but he gone seeing to train shipments and would not be back for a while.

“It’s nothing they did,” Amelia kicked at the back porch Allie had just finished sweeping, “They wouldn’t speak to me at all. They just raised their noses in the air and referred to me as the ‘hired help’.”

Allie laughed quietly, “If that is the worst someone with money ever calls you then you are not doing nearly as bad as you believe yourself to be,” she assured her sister. “Give it time, Amelia. You can see from their parents they have not been taught to see those with less than them as equals. Perhaps in time you’ll become friends.”

“I doubt that,” Amelia grumbled. “You look beat, sis. They’re asking too much of you.”

“It’s only because the house had been so long without a maid. Their maid before quit weeks ago so everything was behind. Once I catch up it won’t be nearly this bad,” Allie assured her.

Footsteps sounded on the polished floors inside and Allie jumped to her feet and acted as if she had just finished sweeping. Mrs. Treadwell stepped to the open door, “Amelia, you mustn’t interfere with your sisters work. Let her finish and there will be plenty of time for you to chat tonight.”

Allie bit her tongue hard to keep from telling Mrs. Treadwell to mind her own business and Amelia seemed to be doing the same. She tipped her head and stood up, “Yes, ma’am,” she replied, moving around the older woman and dashing inside.

“I’ve finished sweeping the porches ma’am and I’ve polished all the wood upstairs. I was about to get busy working on the downstairs floors…”

“Forget that,” Mrs. Treadwell waved her hand, “The floors are just fine. What I want you to do is begin to tend to my flower beds and remove the ivy from the lower levels of the house.”

Allie sighed. That was going to be a lot of work. Mrs. Treadwell had a lot of flower beds and they were all terribly overgrown. “Also I’d like for you to remove the weeds from the walkway. After that you can clean up the dinner mess and retire for the night with your own meal.’

“Yes ma’am,” Allie tipped her head, forcing politeness. “What about the ivy that is higher?”

Mrs. Treadwell shook her head, “You do not need to concern yourself with that,” she snapped sternly. “I will have one of the men climb the ladder. I do not want you to risk your safety.”

Allie shrugged and offered no argument. She could have insisted that she had climbed many ladders in her life but she was not that eager to give herself more work.

“Alright then,” Mrs. Treadwell folded her hands in front of her and offered a tight smile, “I will let you begin with you work.”

Allie sighed and walked to the back shed. She found a basket with gardening tools and gloves. She turned and shook her head at the dozens of overflowing flowerbeds before slipping on the gloves and squaring her shoulders with determination.

She was doing this for Amelia.

---

Allie could hardly stand by the end of the day but as she put away the last clean dinner dish she breathed a sigh of purest relief.

She glanced over at the soft-waisted colored woman who had been at her interview and saw her filling a bucket with scraps, “Are you saving those, Tessa?”

“Yes I am, suga,” her warm brown eyes glanced away quickly, “For the pigs, child.”

Allie sighed, “I’ll take them out if you’d like me to.”

“No, no that’s quite alright, suga. I can handle things. Why don’t you run on up to bed now and I’ll finish up your sweepin,”

Allie wanted to argue but her body simply wouldn’t allow it, “ Are you sure?“ she questioned with a smile.

“I’m sure, suga,” Tessa patted her back. “You did real good today. They’re testing you, child, but you’re provin’ to be tougher than I thought.”

“I have a sister to take care of,” Allie shrugged, “I don’t have a choice.”

She thanked Tessa one last time and trudged her way up the staircase. Her backside and legs were killing her from being squatted at the flower beds all afternoon. She wanted a hot bath but knew she would have to settle for washing off at the washbasin.

Darkness had fallen hours ago and the hallway that led to her room was cloaked in shadow. Allie wasn’t afraid until she neared the cubby that led to the attic door. She could not explain her fear. She had no true reason to believe there was anything up there other then old, forgotten junk…. Except of course the flash of movement she’d seen in the window when she had arrived her, the scuffling sound she’d heard behind the door yesterday and Mrs. Treadwell’s own strange behavior about the door.

Allie bit her lip and tried to hurry past the door but a thud had her stopping in her tracks. Her heart thundered in her chest as she turned her head and looked up those dark stairs.

“Hello?” she called softly. “Is there someone there?”

She took a step toward the stairs and Mrs. Treadwell’s icy voice behind her caused her to freeze, “Who in the world are you talking to and why are you not in your room? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I.. I was on my way to bed, ma’am,” Allie stammered, taking several steps back. “I just finished in the kitchen.”

“Yes well, get to bed now and no more snooping around the attic. I have already told you that door is locked and there is nothing up there to interest you.”

“I wasn’t snooping,” Allie was quick to defend herself. “I heard a thud and it frightened me.” It was then that Allie noticed the bucket sitting on the floor beside Mrs. Treadwell’s skirts. It was the bucket of scraps that Tessa had been filling in the kitchen.

“I’m sure it was nothing but rats,” Mrs. Treadwell assured her curtly, “Now get to bed. I am sure you are tired and you have quite a bit of laundry to be washed tomorrow.”

Allie wanted to ask just how big the rats were in this house because that thud had certainly not sounded like any rat she had ever heard. She wanted to ask why Mrs. Treadwell was walking around on the third floor with a bucket of scraps meant for pigs as well but she didn’t ask either of these things.

Instead she tipped her head quickly and all but ran to her room. She stepped inside and closed the door nearly all the way. Slowly she peeked back out into the dark hall and saw Mrs. Treadwell head up the staircase toward the attic.

Feeling a hundred times more confused, Allie slipped back inside her room and closed the door. The kerosene lights were glowing but Amelia was sound asleep and snoring lightly on the bed.

Allie slid from her clothes and laid them neatly over the chair. She cleaned the dirt and sweat from her skin with the cold water in the washbasin and a bar of lye soap. After sliding into her old and tattered nightclothes, Allie slipped into the bed and snuggled up under the covers with her mind racing.

What was in that attic?

---

“Alright, children, which of you can recite the Gettysburg Address for me?” the tutor, a skinny harpy with a bird nose and a pointy chin asked as she eyed each of them over the top of her thin glasses.

Of course Peter and Jacob raised their hands which left Amelia sitting there looking like a fool and feeling twice as dense, “Amelia, are you saying you do not know the speech made famous by the president who led our country during the most painful and difficult time the union as ever seen?” Ms. Petrey questioned haughtily.

Amelia slumped and picked at her skirt, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she whispered.

This was her third lesson this week with this horrid woman and it simply wasn’t getting any easier for her. Peter and Jacob still treated her as if she were dirt under their shiny, polished shoes. Even now they were snickering behind their hands at her.

“Of course she doesn’t, Ms. Petrey,” Jacob, the oldest at ten said with false politeness, “A good education is not important to her kind.”

Amelia bristled, “We are the same kind, Jacob. We’re both people aren’t we?”

Peter glared at her and raised his nose, “We might be people, hired help, but we are far from being the same. At least my mother and father did not throw me out as if I were the evening slop.”

Amelia let out a shriek of rage and swung her fist, catching the sneering boy square in the nose. He cried out with pain and began to wail. Ms. Petrey rose to her feet and the enraged scowl contorting her features was enough to send Amelia running. She had no idea where she was running to but she could hear footsteps behind her and knew that Peter and Jacob were on her trail.

Amelia raced into the sitting room and slid behind the cigar cabinet. She held her breath when she heard Jacob and Peter enter the room, “Why don’t you come on out, hired help?” Peter called.

“Yeah so we can kick your ass,” Jacob sneered.

She could hear them looking for her and Amelia prayed they wouldn’t find her. She was already going to be in so much trouble for hitting Peter. She could only hope that Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell wouldn’t throw her and her sister out. Allie would be so angry.

Finally Peter and Jacob gave up on finding her in the sitting room and moved on. Amelia slid from her hiding place and very quickly and quietly made her way up to the third floor of the house. She thought about going to her room but she could hear Mrs. Treadwell calling for her now. Surely her room would be one of the first places that the other woman would check.

Amelia bit her lip and stopped in front of the steps that led to the attic. She could hide there. She didn’t believe that anyone would think to look for her there. But what if there was a monster in there?

Amelia cursed herself. She was far too old to believe in monsters!

Pulling a pin from her hair Amelia went up the narrow staircase and set about picking the lock. She could hear Mrs. Treadwell now on the second floor. With not much time to spare, Amelia finally heard the lock click and she opened the door, stepping inside and closing the door silently behind her before sliding the lock back into place.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned slowly and looked around the dark and dusty attic. She caught a flash of movement toward the far end and a box teetered and nearly fell. Amelia swallowed hard. She wasn’t alone in this room.

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"Allie!" Mrs. Treadwell's angry voice rang in the air and carried down into the cellar where Allie was busy reorganizing the dry and canned goods.  

She quickly lifted her skirts and ran up the stairs, "What is it, ma'am?" she exclaimed when she reached the kitchen and found Mrs. Treadwell looking quite erratic as she paced the floors with clenched fists and anger flashing in her frigid blue eyes.  

"Where is your horrid sister?" Mrs. Treadwell hissed.  

Allie was taken aback, "Is there something wrong, ma'am?"  

Mrs. Treadwell strode toward her and stuck her finger in her chest, poking to emphasize her words, "Yes, there is something wrong! Your heathen of a sister punched my Peter in the nose!"  

Allie blinked several times and rubbed at her aching chest as she allowed that to sink in. She closed her eyes and prayed that there was some kind of mistake. When she opened her eyes Mrs. Treadwell was standing beside the wide kitchen window, "I am terribly sorry, Mrs. Treadwell. It is not in Amelia's nature to be violent.... May I ask what prompted that attack?"  

"Are you blaming this on Peter?!" Mrs. Treadwell demanded harshly.  

Allie bowed her head respectfully, hoping to appease the angry woman, "I am merely asking to hear the full story."  

"The full story is that your sister is a monster. An uncontrollable, brute of a girl....."  

"Mrs. Treadwell, with all due respect, please refrain from insulting my eight year old sister. If you must insult someone perhaps you can pick a target more suited for defending themselves," Allie chided.  

Mrs. Treadwell clearly did not appreciate Allie's scolding however before the angered woman could speak, Mr. Treadwell's voice filled the kitchen, "She is quite right, my dear. Peter is not an innocent boy as we both well know. His mouth often flies off and says things it should not. Perhaps we 

should hear the whole story before we judge Amelia and refrain from calling the girl names.“

Mrs. Treadwell glared at her husband but nodded as she took several deep breaths and smoothed out her heavy black skirt, "Peter says that she attacked him for no reason before running away."  

"Amelia has never before attacked a person for no reason," Allie countered. She knew her sister and Amelia would not have hit 

anyone without severe provocation. Of course Allie would have to have a talk with her and make her understand that violence was never an appropriate reaction.

"Let us go have a discussion with Ms. Petrey. She will tell us what happened," Mr. Treadwell urged.  

Allie followed her employers into the sunshine filled parlor that was used for the children's lessons. Ms. Petrey, a very tall, thin and unattractive woman, was packing her study materials into her leather satchel.

"Ms. Petrey," Mr. Treadwell spoke, "Could you please enlighten us as to the events that occurred today.'  

Ms. Petrey pulled her glasses off of her hooked nose and her lips pursed tightly, "All three children need a sound lashing."  

Mrs. Treadwell gasped, "Surely you cannot mean that!"  

"I do," Ms. Petrey snapped, "Those boys were most cruel and provoked the girl into her heathen reaction.  For days they have teased and tormented her and it was only today that she reacted so violently."  

"Thank you, Ms. Petrey," Mr. Treadwell tipped his head. Ms. Petrey nodded curtly and strode from the room.

"I will have a long talk with Amelia, I can assure you both. I am so sorry that she had the reaction that she had," Allie offered. She was proud to know that Amelia had only been sticking up for herself but yet scared that this would be enough to have them kicked from this house and the security and money the job would provide.  

"I want to apologize for the behavior of my sons," Mr. Treadwell tipped his head. "I am sure whatever they said was quite terrible. My wife has seen fit to spoil them into oblivion and in turn they are quickly becoming intolerable."  

"I have not!" Mrs. Treadwell stamped her foot. "We cannot allow that girl to simply hit everyone in the house when she has a problem with what they say. I will not accept such behavior."  

"Neither will I," Allie assured her. "I promise that it will not happen again. She is only eight, ma'am, and her life has been a hard one. Please do not judge her too harshly for this."  

"Of course," Mr. Treadwell's thin lips curved into what might almost be considered a smile. "Of course it is important that you understand that this behavior will not be tolerated a second time. If it happens again we will be forced to ask you both to leave."  

"I understand," Allie breathed a sigh of relief.  

"Get back to your work. When your sister shows herself we will allow you to deal with her," Mr. Treadwell waved his hand and Allie quickly left the room. The moment she was gone she heard an argument pick up between husband and wife.  

Allie went back to the cellar and shook her head. Amelia had warned her that those boys were mean and she hadn't listened. If their behavior didn't improve Allie would have to get her sister out of here and find some other way to support her. Though no where else would she be able to get twenty-five dollars a month, room and board, as well as an education for Amelia.  

Deciding to not dwell on things Allie quickly got back to organizing the dusty shelves.  

---

Amelia swallowed hard, "Hello?" she called out quietly, her voice seeming to echo in the quiet attic. "Is there someone there?" Silence followed her question. She took a hesitant step forward and then fell backward onto her backside when a large rat skittered out from behind the boxes and dashed into a dark corner, disappearing from her sight.  

Amelia scolded herself for acting like a child. She scooted against the crate behind her and pulled her knees into her chest. Her eyes began adjusting more to the dark and dusty attic and she studied her surroundings more closely becoming more confused as she did so.  

The walls were covered what appeared to be carvings. Words, though she couldn't read well enough to know what most of them said, and pictures covered nearly every inch of space. Amelia thought they looked like they'd been placed there by a child because they were sloppy and not well done. Probably Jacob and Peter's handiwork. They were evil little demons who would carve pictures into walls just for spite.  

One thing was for certain, this attic was very large; she couldn't see even half of it from here. The ceiling however was very low and couldn't be more than five and a half feet tall. From what Amelia could see it was full of crates, old furniture, dust and rats, of course.  

Amelia hated this house. She hated these people. She hated everything about this place. She wondered what life would have been like with her mother and father but Peter had been right.... Her mother and father had tossed her and her sister out six years ago as if they were pig slop. Amelia did not even remember them and would not know what her mother looked like if not for the locket she wore around her neck that contained a picture of the woman.  

Amelia buried her face in her blue skirt and cried hot and angry tears. Life was not fair! She sobbed for a long time letting out all the pain she worked so hard to hide from Allie. Strong Allie who never broke and who did everything she could to ensure that Amelia was taken care of.  

The sound of something sliding across the wooden floorboards near her had Amelia's head snapping up. She began to shake with fear when she saw the doll laying two feet from the toes of her shoes. It was dirty, old and tattered with a fabric face and body, porcelain arms and legs, yarn for hair and a hand sewn dress that was hanging on by a thread. It had no eyes, no mouth, no facial features at all--and it hadn't been there before.  

"Hello?" Amelia called, pushing herself to her feet and pressing her back against the crate behind her. "Who's there?" she demanded, swiping the back of her hand over her cheeks in an attempt to dry them.  

"T..Take doll. Don't...cry."  

Amelia nearly screamed but her body was frozen and would not allow her to. That voice! It was a male voice and it was older than her. It also had a stutter to it, an uncertainty and a raspy quality. Was the attic haunted?!

"Who are you?" she demanded.  

"You...sad. Take doll."  

Amelia saw a shadow in the corner and she regained control of her body. Without a backward glance she ran for the door, undid the lock and leapt out of the attic, slamming the door closed behind her.  

Her heart was pounding against her ribs as she ran into the room she shared with her sister and closed and locked the door before jumping into the middle of the bed and pulling her knees into her chest once again.  

She prayed a million times over that whatever, whoever, had been in that attic would stay there. She did not need a spirit following after her!

---

"Amelia! Have you been locked in here all day?" Allie demanded of her sister after the eight year old had unlocked the bedroom door and allowed her in.  

"Yes," Amelia whispered, casting a nervous glance into the hallway before closing the door and once again engaging the lock.  

"Amelia, you nearly cost me this job and us this house with that stunt you pulled today," Allie scolded gently as she slid out of her dirty work clothes and began to wash off with the basin of cold water. "Why in the world did you hit Peter? Mrs. Treadwell nearly boxed my ears over it!"  

Amelia bit her lip and climbed up onto the bed, "He was being cruel, Allie, and I lost control of my temper."  

"What did he say?" Allie questioned.  

"That I'm not the same as him. That I'm beneath him and that our mother and father threw us out like the evening slop."  

Hearing Amelia say evening slop had Allie remembering Mrs. Treadwell carrying that bucket of slop to the attic three nights ago. She shook her head to clear those thoughts and focus on Amelia.  

"Those were very cruel things to say," Allie acknowledged. She dried off her wet skin and slipped on her nightclothes. "But you cannot react with violence, Amelia. That's never the answer."  

"I know.." Amelia sighed.  

"Mr. Treadwell agreed to let us stay but if you break the rules once more then we have to leave and we're back to sleeping on the ground  and in doorways."  

Amelia looked down at her hands and swallowed hard, "I won't break the rules again, Allie."

Allie smiled, turned off the kerosene lights and climbed into the bed. She took her sister in her arms and held her tight while laying her cheek on Amelia's soft, dark hair, "I know you're hungry but you'll have to wait until breakfast. Mrs. Treadwell was quite angry that you didn't come to dinner."  

"I'll be fine," Amelia whispered.  

"Amelia, Mr. Treadwell assured me he would take care of Peter and Jacob. Ms. Petrey told them how horrible the boys were. Give it a few more days and if their behavior doesn't improve then we'll leave."  

"But your job...."  

"I'll figure something else out," Allie assured her. "I won't allow you to be mistreated simply to get a warm meal and a soft bed."  

"I'll be good, Allie. I won't break any more rules. I don't want us to be kicked out and homeless again." Amelia promised.  

Allie kissed her hair, "You know all I care about is keeping you safe and cared for."  

"I know."  

The sisters held each other a long time before finally drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Two days later found Allie and Tessa heading into town on a cloudy morning to pick up a few supplies as well as the dresses that the seamstress had finished for Allie and Amelia.  

Allie had been hesitant to leave her younger sister at the house with Peter and Jacob but Amelia insisted that ever since she and the boy had issued apologies the morning after the incident, things had been much better between them all. The boys weren't friendly but they weren't hostile either and left her alone. And there were no lessons today which meant Amelia wouldn't be forced to sit in a room with Jacob or Peter while Allie was gone.  

"Ya sure have surprised me, suga'," Tessa spoke as she guided the cart down the road.  

"How's that?" Allie questioned.  

"I didn't think you would last two days and you've been workin' at the house over a week now," Tessa noted.

"It's not so bad. Now that I have the housework caught up my job gets a little easier everyday," Allie replied and she meant it. It wasn't a fun or fulfilling life but she was content, her stomach was not screaming for food and her head stayed dry when it rained.  

"You are one of the few that stood up to Mrs. Treadwell and kept her job to talk about it," Tessa informed her, her warm brown eyes glowing with admiration. "Most don't get that lucky."  

Allie flushed, "Yes, well, I won't allow my sister to be mistreated no matter how good the pay."  

"You'll do well to mind your tongue with her from now on," Tessa warned.  

Allie simply shrugged and looked around at the surrounding countryside. The high plains were a beautiful place. Rolling hills, long grasses, wildflowers beginning to grow and trees sprouting here and there to break up the monotony of the sky against the ground. There were mesas and cliffs far to the west and Allie wondered if one day she would have time to take Amelia there. She was sure the girl would love to see a sight she had never seen before.  

"You're real close to your sister ain't ya, suga'?"  

Allie's lips curved in a small smile as she glanced over at Tessa. She had found that she truly liked the woman over the last week.  She was warm and friendly and a welcome difference in comparison to the other people that called the Treadwell Estate home, "It's only been us for six years. Our parents sent us to the orphanage then and I have been caring for Amelia since. She was only two and I was thirteen." The lies seemed to have gotten easier with time. "You could say I see her as more a daughter than a sister."  

"She's very lucky to have you," Tessa stated softly.  

Allie smiled, "I'm lucky to have her," she countered. She decided to turn the focus to Tessa since she did not like talking about her own past and the hard decisions she had had to make at a very young age. "How long have you been working for the Treadwells?"  

"Twenty years, suga'," Tessa smiled a tired smile, "Longer than anyone else that's there now."  

"You must have an iron will, Tessa, and the strength to match. Have they always been so....." Allie struggled to find the correct word.  

Tessa laughed, "Harsh? Cold? Cruel? Judgmental?"  

"I was going to say haughty but those work as well."  

"The answer to that would be yes but they weren't nearly this bad when I first got hired on there. Mrs. Treadwell was carryin' their second child at the time and nearly too big to fit through that front door of theirs," Tessa smiled at the memory, "But time has a way of changin' people, suga',"

Allie thought about what she had said and frowned, "But you said you'd been there twenty years..."  

"That's right."  

"Their oldest son is twenty-two and their youngest are far too young to be the child you're speaking of."  

Tessa's quickly turned her gaze away from her and shifted on the cart seat, "You're right, child. The babe I am speakin' off died when he was only two years old."  

"That's terrible!" Allie exclaimed. "What happened to him?"  

"He was a sick baby his whole short life, suga'. Ya know how easy it is for those babes to pass on sometimes. That's when things really began to change around that home. They grew colder and...

worse than they’d been before. Mr. Treadwell still shows traces of the man he once was but Mrs. Treadwell… let’s just say you’d be best to stay on her good side.“

Allie's curiosity was piqued, "What was his name?"   

"Who's name?" Tessa questioned innocently.  

Allie fought the urge to roll her eyes, "The boy who died."  

Tessa's full lips tightened and she shook her head never looking Allie's way, "We do not speak his name, Allie, and you're just as well not knowing. You're never to mention him; the family will not respond well."  

Allie nodded, wondering why it seemed everything about that boy was such a secret but then again she knew that people had their own ways of mourning. She decided to change direction with her questions, "Have you ever been to the attic, Tessa?"  

Tessa jerked the cart to a stop so suddenly that Allie nearly tumbled over the front. She stared at Tessa with shock when the colored woman's eyes flashed with something akin to panic, "You won't ever speak of that attic, child. You stay away from there and you forget it exists. Do ya hear me now?"  

Allie felt fear at Tessa's intense reaction to her question but it also only served to further her curiosity, "What is up there, Tessa? I've heard noises and I saw Mrs. Treadwell...."  

"Suga', you better just forget whatever it was you were about to say. Trust me when I say you're better off not knowin' what's up in that attic."  

---

Amelia was reminded of a saying the headmistress at the orphanage had always spoken, 

‘The devil preys on an idle heart!’

Amelia wasn't sure if she believed in God or the Devil and heaven and hell but she certainly felt as if 

something was preying on her; if not her heart than her mind at least.

All she kept finding herself thinking about was the attic.  

She had managed to put that room and what had occurred there from her mind the last couple of days. She hadn't mentioned her experience to Allie because she had been breaking the rules by being in the attic. She didn't want Mrs. or Mr. Treadwell to find out and give them reason to run her and Allie off.  Amelia had simply kept herself busy with her studies and helping Allie when she could and only had the attic enter her mind when it was dark and she was trying to find sleep.   

But today Allie had gone to town with Tessa and because of the clouds outside and the chance of rain Amelia had been left at the house. She had kept herself shut up in her room to avoid Peter, Jacob and Mrs. Treadwell but she was beginning to go stir crazy and her curiosity was pulling her toward that attic.  

Was there a man in the attic or had it been a spirit of some kind? Was this house haunted?  

Amelia had to find out!  

She slipped from her room with a hairpin and walked down the empty hallway to the attic steps. Her knees were knocking and her hands were shaking but she wasn't going to let that stop her. She was on a mission now and that mission was to find out exactly what was in this attic.  

The makeshift key nearly slipped from her sweaty grip several times as she picked at the lock but finally it clicked and she was able to push the door open. Slipping inside the room, Amelia closed the door behind her and slid the hair pin into her pocket. She pushed a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and looked around, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the change in light. It was daylight outside but it was cloudy and the stained, dirt covered window at the other end of the massively long attic did little to light up the end she was standing in.  

With her heart racing Amelia swallowed hard, "Hello? Are you still in here?" she called out.  

Silence.  

Amelia looked at the spot where she had cried days before but the doll was no longer there. "Hello, if you're here I wanted to say thank you for giving me that doll. It was very nice of you and I'm sorry I ran away."  

Amelia gasped when she heard something shuffle down at the window end of the attic. She gripped her skirts and forced her quaking legs to carry her in that direction, "Hello?"  

Amelia stepped around a large pile of crates and froze as she took in the new sights that she couldn't see from the other side of the attic. It appeared to be a bed made of sacks and rags and there were toys everywhere. Old toys that were stained and dirty from use and appeared more ready for the burn pile than anything else.  

A spirit wouldn't need a bed which meant.....

A dragging sound from behind her had Amelia turning slowly and the sight she was met with had a scream building in her chest. Before that scream could leave her lips a hand was clamped over her mouth and the monster's breath hit her face, "D...don't yell. Ma'am g..gets angry."

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"That dress looks very pretty on you!" Allie admired and Amelia twirled slowly. The pale blue dress brought out her eyes and the white lace trimming on the neck, sleeves and hem gave an air of innocence to her sister.  

"It's very nice," Amelia agreed. "Are you going to try on your clothes?"  

"Mine are only simple skirts and blouses for working, Amelia. They aren't nearly as nice as yours."  

"I don't think I've ever had a brand new dress made just for me before," Amelia noted. "Have I?"  

Allie felt pain in her heart as she shook her head and tucked Amelia's brown hair behind her ear, "No, sweetheart. No, you haven't."  

"Don't be sad, Allie!" Amelia exclaimed.  

"I'm not sad," Allie assured her as she walked to the window and peeked at the darkness outside. "I only wish I could have given you more all these years."  

"You've done a good job," Amelia promised quietly.  

Allie nodded, forced a smile and turned back to her sister, "Get into your nightclothes now. It's time for sleep."  

Allie and Amelia both cleaned up, slipped into their nightclothes and climbed into bed, "What did you do all day?" Allie asked as they lay there in the dark.  

"I spent the day in the library," Amelia replied sleepily. "They have a lot of books and I'm trying to learn to read."  

"I'll help you. I have a few hours off tomorrow and we can spend them in the library practicing."  

"Okay."  

Allie lay there a long time until she heard Amelia's breathing even out and knew the girl was asleep. Slipping from the bed, Allie went back to the window and stared outside. After a day of rain, the night was quiet and peaceful. The sliver of moon was plainly visible in the star-studded sky.  

Allie thought of her past. The life that she had lived with her mother and father. The life that had been ripped away from her and from her sister--or should she say ripped and burned away? Yes that would be a more appropriate statement. She looked over at her sleeping sister in the darkness and wondered what the girl would think, what she would say, if she knew the truth. The truth of what Allie had allowed to happen. The truth about why they had ended up in that orphanage being beaten, starved and treated no better than slaves.

Allie felt tears burning behind her eyes and she walked to the armchair. She tossed aside a pillow to take a seat and stopped when she saw the doll lying on the cushion. Where had that come from?  

Allie picked it up in her hand and turned it over, studying it in the darkness. The doll was well made but clearly old and worn. The porcelain legs and arms seemed to be in good shape but the fabric body and head was wearing thin and the dress was threadbare and torn in places.  

Allie walked to the bed and laid the doll against Amelia's arm. The girl moaned and then snuggled close to the doll.  

"Where did you get that, Amelia?"  

"Huh?" It was clear that Amelia was sound asleep and didn't realize she was even having a conversation.  

"Where did you get this doll?"  

Amelia gave a sleepy moan and nestled deeper into her pillow and blanket, "The man in the attic."  

Chills ran down Allie's spine and she trembled. Man in the attic?  

Allie could shake Amelia awake and demand to know what she was talking about and why the girl had been in the attic to begin with but she wasn't going to. She had wanted to know what was in that attic and now she'd been given an answer.  

There was a man in the attic. A man who had given her younger sister a doll. A man who had been alone in an attic with her sister and for some reason her sister hadn't talked about it. There was nothing about that that Allie was okay with. Why was a man locked in an attic? Why would no one speak of him? And why was he spending time with her sister and giving her toys?

Allie was going to get to the bottom of this tonight. She grabbed a kerosene lamp and a pack of matches and slipped from the room. After ensuring that the house seemed silent and asleep, Allie lit the lamp and made her way to those attic steps.  

Slowly she walked up them, wincing each and every time they groaned and creaked beneath her feet. Testing the door, Allie realized it was locked; she didn't know why she had thought it would be any different. No matter; locked doors were hardly a problem for someone who had had to use any means to feed herself and her sister for so very long.  

Allie pulled a pin from her hair and made short work of the door lock. The kerosene light bounced and wobbled as her hand trembled and she opened the door. With bated breath Allie stepped into the attic, closed and locked the door behind her, raised her light high and looked around.  

She wasn't sure what she had expected to see but the piles of old furniture and belongings, the stacks of crates and the dust and cobwebs was quite anticlimactic. Allie held the lantern up higher and gasped when she saw the pictures and words carved into the wall. There were lines from stories, names and simply random words here and there as well as pictures of animals, mountains and suns. Many of the words were misspelled and the workmanship was sloppy.  

Allie had to tip her head to avoid hitting it against ceiling beams as she stepped forward. The attic stretched the length of the house in both directions. It was massive in length and she knew there were plenty of places for a man to hide in the dark shadows. It made her wish that she had brought some sort of weapon with her to defend herself.  

"Hello?" she called out, not wanting to speak to loudly for fear someone in the house would hear her. "Is there anybody in here?"  

A shuffle followed by a thud and a moan came from the window end of the attic. Allie's head whipped around in that direction and she nearly ran from the attic in fear but forced herself to be brave. This man had been alone with her sister, given her a toy and Amelia had hidden the experience from Allie. After what she'd experienced from her father as a child Allie was more than a little gun shy of having grown men alone around small children.  

She took in a deep breath to steady her nerves and dust tickled her nostrils causing her to sneeze three times in rapid succession. The attic was silent a moment following her sneezes and then a voice stopped her in her tracks,  

"B..bless you."  

"Excuse me?" Allie could hear the shaking in her voice but she held her lamp higher and peered into the corner she had heard the voice come from but saw nothing but more stacks of crates and what appeared to be the frame of an old metal bed.

"You s..sneeze. I say b...bless you."  

Allie frowned. The voice did not sound threatening. It was clearly a man's voice. He had a stutter and his words were hesitant; almost as if he had to think hard about them before they would form. There was an innocence to that voice that only served to confuse her more. Why was this man locked up here?"  

"Where are you? My sister said you gave her a doll."  

"She c...cry. I g.gi.give doll."  

Amelia cried? Amelia never cried. Allie would kill this man if he had harmed her sister... it wouldn't be her first time.  

As the man talked Allie walked further into the attic, closer to the sound of his voice. She saw a bed on the floor that broke her heart. It was nothing more than burlap sacks filled with rags and old clothes. Old, worn toys littered the floor and the crates.

She heard a shuffling from her left and whirled around but there was a tall, gilded mirror with broken glass in her way, "Are you hiding from me?"  

"Y..yes," the man replied.  

"Why? Did you hide from my sister?"

Allie stepped closer to the mirror, "P..please don't," the man whispered, his voice trembling. "You scared."  

"I'm not scared," Allie lied, stepping around the mirror. She found herself looking at the back of a person though it was impossible to tell anything more than that. He was wrapped tight in a clock that seemed to have been made from an old wool blanket. There was a hood pulled over his head and the cloak hid all of his body and dragged the floor.  

"You b..be scared."  

"Did you hurt my sister? Did you make her cry?" Allie questioned, glancing around for anything she could use to hit the man with should he turn on her.  

She could tell by the motion of his hood that he was shaking his head roughly, "No! I n..not do that!"  

"Then why was she crying?" Allie demanded, feeling her temper grow. "My sister does not cry easily. And why are you in here? Turn around and look me!"  

Footsteps reached Allie's ears and she realized someone was climbing the stairs to the attic, "You h..hide," the man whispered fearfully. He turned to face her but she still could not see his face because of the hood he wore. He grabbed her by the shoulders, nearly causing her to cry out and he shoved her back behind some crates. He blew out her lamp and turned away from her. Allie crouched down and stayed there when he told her to.  

Her heart pounded when the attic door opened and she heard Mrs. Treadwell's voice, "I came for your dinner bucket."

"I..I not d..done," the man replied. Allie watched him move, he was hunched over, though that was probably because of the low ceiling. He grabbed a bucket and she recognized it as the pig slop. His right hand seemed to have trouble gripping the bucket handle and when he began to walk toward Mr. Treadwell Allie saw that his left leg seemed to almost drag behind him with each step though it was hard to be certain while he was covered in that cloak.   

"I do not care if you are not done," Mrs. Treadwell snapped. Allie couldn't see her and the man too had now moved beyond her sight but she could hear the hatred dripping in the woman's voice.  

"Y..yes ma'am."  

Allie heard the bucket thud and she heard something slosh out of it and onto the floor. The next sound was the unmistakable sound of a smack and the man whimpered in pain, "You will be more careful! Your carelessness just soiled my skirts!" Mrs. Treadwell hissed.  

"I s...sorry."  

"I should have killed you when I had the chance all those years ago," Mrs. Treadwell sneered.  

"Yes, m..ma'am."  

Allie heard Mrs. Treadwell leave the room with a swish of her skirts. The door closed quietly and the lock engaged.  

Allie was confused. This man did not seem dangerous. Why would anyone keep a man, who clearly had medical issues, locked in an attic living in such terrible conditions and eating nothing but pig slop and scraps? Allie had never been one to stand for injustice and while she had seen plenty and not been able to stop it she had at least stood up and let her voice be heard whenever she could.  

She stood up now and stepped into the opening that the man was standing in. He had his back to her and his shoulders were heaving, "Sir, who are you and why are you locked up here in this attic like a prisoner?"  

"No this m..my home," he countered with a sniff.  

"Your home?" Allie shook her head. This was not fit to be anyone's home. "How long have you been up here?"  

"Forever."  

"What is your name?"  

"N..not matter. You go n..now."  

"I don't want to," Allie countered. "I want to see what you look like and I want to know your name and I still need to know what happened with my sister."  

"W..we talk. S..she nice. She n..not too s..scared of me."  

"Did you take off your hood for her?"  

"Yes.'  

"Will you take it off for me?"  

He stepped back, "N..no."

"But..."  

"Y..you go now. She m..mad and might c..come back."  

There was panic in the man's voice, "You think she is a danger to me?"  

There was no mistaking the sincerity in his reply, "Y..yes."

"Do you swear you did nothing to harm my sister?" Allie questioned.

"She n..nice. N..no one nice h..here. I n..not hurt h..her."  

Allie had no reason to trust this strange man whom she could not even see but she did. She trusted him. There was something in his voice that spoke of goodness and Allie could not bring herself to believe he would harm Amelia.  

"G..go now," he urged as he shuffled himself behind her. Allie wondered what was wrong with his legs that made him limp so. He put his hands on her shoulder and Allie nearly hit her head upon the ceiling beams before she leaned down and hunched her back, much the same as the man seemed to be.  

He pushed her gently toward the door, "Y...you not come b..back. It not s..safe."  

"You won't tell me who you are or why you're here?" Allie persisted.  

"It not m..matter."  

Allie unlocked the door again and reluctantly stepped onto the stairs. She turned to say goodbye to the man but he was limping heavily away. Allie closed the door and while it broke her heart to reengage that lock she did it anyway, not wanting to alert Mrs. Treadwell that there had been someone else in that attic.  

Allie was nearly to her room when Mrs. Treadwell's sharp voice came from behind her, "What are you doing wandering the halls at this time of night?" she snapped.  

Allie turned quickly and saw Mrs. Treadwell standing beside the attic stairs with a thin wooden strip in her hands. The strip of wood was three feet long and it was easy to tell by the grip she held on the end and the way she smacked the other end against her palm just what it's intended purpose was.

Allie swallowed hard and met her gaze, "I was taking a walk, ma'am. I couldn't sleep and thought that a walk might help me."  

Mrs. Treadwell's icy blue eyes narrowed, "Get to bed, Allie. You'll be expected up before dawn to help Tessa with breakfast."

"Yes, ma'am." Allie turned quickly and went to her room. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her with her heart torn. She wanted to go help that man and not allow Mrs. Treadwell to do what she knew the woman was going to do to him but yet she didn't know for sure that the man was good.... That and she had her sister to think of. She couldn't simply go after Mrs. Treadwell now and cause her and her sister to be tossed out into the night with nothing.  

Allie sat the lamp on the side table and crawled into bed, curling beneath the covers and holding the pillow tight. She was going to have to have a talk with Amelia tomorrow about going into the attic. It wasn't safe. There was a chance that man might do them harm, (though Allie doubted that), and she also knew that she did not want to face Mrs. Treadwell's wrath were the girls caught sneaking in and out.  

Allie closed her eyes and pushed the man in the attic and the fate she had left him to from her mind. Considering the other things she had done in her life, forgetting the man in that moment was fairly easy.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

"Amelia, wake up. I have to get down to work but we need to have a talk before I go," Allie urged her sister the next morning.  

Amelia groaned as she stirred beneath the blankets, "Can we have this talk later, sis? I was having a really nice dream."  

"No, we cannot talk later." Allie pulled the covers off of her. "I know you've been in the attic."  

Amelia sat up quickly and her brown eyes were wide, "How did you find out?"  

Allie clicked her tongue, "You should know by now that you can't keep secrets from me." Amelia winced guiltily. "And I found the doll, asked you about it while you were sleeping and you told me that the man in the attic gave it to you."  

"I did?" Amelia groaned and then leapt to her feet. "Allie, you have to keep that a secret! I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I promised him I wouldn't."  

Allie didn't like this idea that the man in the attic, who apparently had no name and had been a prisoner there forever, had been having chats with her sister and telling her to keep secrets.  

"Amelia, we don't keep secrets from one another," Allie scolded. "And I don't want you going back up there. I met that man and I'm not so sure he's not dangerous..."  

"Dangerous?" Amelia shook her head roughly, "He is not dangerous."

"You don't know that for sure," Allie replied patiently.

"Yes I do!" Amelia insisted. "He might have a frightening appearance but he's perfectly harmless."  

"Frightening? What do you mean?"  

Amelia shook her head, "I promised him I wouldn't speak about him to you," she replied. "I will only say that he is not dangerous. He is lonely and sweet and he was very nice to me."  

Allie sighed. She wanted to believe that the man in the attic was simply a nice and lonely man but then why would he be locked up away from everyone else? And could Mrs. Treadwell truly be that cruel to lock a perfectly nice man who just happened to look a little different in her attic and abuse him? Surely there was no one that purely evil.  

"Amelia..."  

"No, Allie! I know we're not supposed to be up there but I promise I won't get caught! He needs a friend and so do I. You're always too busy to spend any time with me and there isn't a single other person in this entire house worth talking to!"  

With that outburst, Amelia went running from their bedroom. Allie let her go, knowing that nothing would be solved by chasing after her just now. Allie sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. Amelia's words hurt but Allie tried not to let them get to her. Amelia was young and while she was very mature for a child her age the fact remained that she was still only eight years old and didn't understand everything about being an adult.  

Allie had to work. She had to have this job. She knew that Amelia was having a hard time adjusting to all the time alone but she would simply have to find something with which to occupy her time that didn't involve that attic. It was what was best. The attic, and Mrs. Treadwell's feelings about that room, were both dangerous things.  

Allie stood and walked to the gilded mirror. She studied her reflection a moment as she pulled all her hair back on her head. She was far too thin and she looked old. Her skin was pale and washed out, her tired brown eyes were surrounded by dark circles. Stress, secrets, lies, guilt, hunger and non stop work had taken their toll on Allie. She looked so much older than her nineteen years of age.

Allie finished gathering up her hair and securing it place, smoothed out the tan skirt and white blouse over her skinny frame and headed out of the bedroom to get started on her work day.  

As she passed the attic stairs, Allie couldn't help but wonder about the man and she felt a moment of guilt. She should do something to help him. But in doing so she could end up homeless on the street with her sister once again.  

Allie shook her head. The man in the attic was not her problem. She had quite enough on her plate as it was without adding him to her list.   

---

Amelia was bored. She had been in the library for nearly an hour waiting on Allie. Her older sister had promised that they'd spend time together reading today but it would seem that after sending Amelia here to wait, Allie had forgotten.  

Amelia did not want to be immature and selfish, she knew that Allie was working hard to provide her with a roof over her head and food in her stomach but Amelia would much rather have less and see her sister more.  

Her mind went back to the conversation she'd had with Allie that morning and the man in the attic. Allie seemed to think he was dangerous but Amelia knew he wasn't. He had shown her his toys and played with her. She had even shared with him her frustrations about her new life here and he had listened and offered her sympathy.  

She didn't care what Allie said, she wouldn't leave that poor man up there all alone with no one to talk to. He didn't deserve it. Rising from the chair, Amelia slipped down the hall, up the stairs and to the attic door without being seen by anyone. It was a pretty day outside and so Peter and Jacob were out helping with the horses. Amelia had wanted to help but she'd been laughed at. It simply wasn't a girl's place is what she had been told.  

Sliding her pins from her pocket, Amelia picked the attic lock and stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind her. She stood still on the dusty planks of the attic floor for several long moments, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light afforded by the one dirty window on the far wall.  

Despite knowing that the man was nothing to fear, Amelia still felt that prickling of unease. She sensed it came from knowing she was doing something against her sister's will. All her life Amelia had tried to obey her sister in everything but surely Allie knew that leaving this man up here lonely was wrong. The least Amelia could do was offer him company and he could do the same for her.  

"Hello? Where are you?" Amelia called out into the silence. "Are you hiding from me?"  

She heard a shuffling of movement toward the back of the attic where his bed and toys were kept. Amelia smiled and let her feet carry her to the sound, "Why are you hiding?"  

"You s..should n..n..not be here."  

Amelia stopped suddenly, the toes of her food barely touching the ground, "Why?"  

"Your s..sister would b..be upset."  

Amelia smiled and simply shook her head, "Don't worry about Allie. She won't know I'm here," she promised. "I was hoping we could play like we did yesterday. I have no one else to spend time with. Jacob and Peter won't let me go out to the barns. They say it's not a girl's place."  

Amelia felt her smile broaden when his cloaked form stepped from behind a crate and into view, "You can take the cloak off. I've already seen you, remember?"  

"A..and you a..are n..not afraid?" he whispered, seeming surprised.  

"Of course not," Amelia waved her hand. "Now take the cloak off and we can play hide and seek."  

With only a few moments of hesitation the man slid from his cloak and Amelia was once again shocked at first by his appearance. She saw his uneasiness and so she quickly ran forward and took his swollen, misshapen hand in hers, "Come along then and play with me."  

The two of them were so caught up in their games and conversations over the next half hour that neither heard the attic door being unlocked. Neither heard the footsteps walking toward them as they crouched over the worn wooden dice they'd been taking turns rolling.  

It wasn't until Amelia noticed the man stiffen that she knew something was wrong. She looked at his face and saw his blue eyes fill with fear as he looked at something over her head.  Then Amelia heard the gasp come from behind her.  

She turned her head slowly and Allie was standing there staring at the man with fear and shock. Allie's hand went to her chest and she took a small step back, "Oh my Lord......"

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Allie stood there in complete shock and tried to simply take deep breaths through her nose and not run from the sight of the man standing before her. Amelia began to speak but Allie held up her hand to silence her as the man stood up, though he couldn't stand all the way up because of the low five and a half foot ceilings.  

His clothes were worn and tattered, full of holes and covered in stains. His body was thin, deathly thin, and he didn't seem to have a lot of strength. His left leg stuck out at an odd angle and the ankle was twisted so his foot laid nearly on its side. His left hand seemed normal but his right was crooked and the knuckles and joints were swollen and looked quite painful. His left shoulder came a bit higher than his right but the truly shocking thing about this man was his face......

The man let out a whimper and turned, scooping his cloak from the floor and shuffling away quickly. He hid himself behind some crates and Allie reached out and grabbed Amelia's arm when the girl tried to chase after him.  

"We're leaving," she warned. She dragged Amelia from the attic, closed and locked the door, and then pulled her sister behind her to their bedroom.  

"Allie, what are you doing?" Amelia demanded once they were inside. "You hurt his feelings!" she added with a stomp of her foot.  

"I think I am the one who should ask you what you were doing!" Allie countered. "You were told 

not to go back up to that attic.“

"You forgot about me and I had no one to talk to! Why not go talk to him?"  

Allie sighed and pinched her nose between her fingers, "Amelia, do you want to be homeless again? Did you enjoy sleeping in doorways and doubling over from hunger pangs?"  

"Of course not," Amelia mumbled as she sat down on the bed.  

"If you keep sneaking to that attic, you are going to be caught and then that's exactly where we'll be," Allie warned.  

"It's not right, Allie! It's not right that that man is locked up there alone."  

"It's not our business."  

"Then why did you go up there?" Amelia demanded. "Why did you go up there today?"  

Allie shifted her feet and adjusted her apron, "I went to the library to find you and you weren't there, you weren't anywhere else I checked and so I knew that's probably where you had run off to."  It wasn't the entire truth but it was all the truth Amelia was getting for now. Allie was not going to have her thinking that disobeying her was right.  

"I thought you'd forgotten about me," Amelia admitted, biting her bottom lip.  

Allie sighed and sat down beside her sister, "Of course not. Mrs. Treadwell caught me and asked me to delay my break to help her pick out the best choice for a meal tomorrow night. Her son Theodore is going to be returning from his business and we're planning a large dinner."  

"Allie..."

"Promise me you won't go sneaking into the attic anymore?"

The sisters stared each other down for several long moments and then Amelia sighed and flopped onto her back, "Fine. I won't sneak up there any more."  

Allie was glad to hear it. If Mrs. Treadwell caught Amelia and laid a single hand on her.... Allie shook her head to clear those thoughts. It wouldn't be the first time that Allie had been pushed to use force to protect her sister.  

"Thank you, Amelia. Now I'll go get us some lunch and bring it up here so we can eat together. After that I thought maybe you'd like to go outside and take a walk. It's a beautiful day."  

"I would like that," Amelia replied quietly.  

Allie sighed and rose from the bed, "I know you're not happy about this but it's for the best. We have to look out for us, Amelia. I'm sure there is a good reason that man is up there."  

Amelia remained silent as she stared at the ceiling and Allie walked to the door, "You are to stay in here until I return... please don't try to sneak out."  

"I told you I wouldn't sneak back up there," Amelia reminded her.  

Allie sighed and left the room, closing the door behind her. She walked to the attic stairs and simply stared up them at the scarred door. She should walk away. She should head to the kitchen, get lunch and forget all about the attic.... But she couldn't.  

Her heart ached to know why that poor, disfigured man was locked away in an attic. He didn't seem dangerous. Amelia trust him and Amelia had lived a life that had taught her not to trust too quickly. Allie trusted her sister's judgment in that matter.

But if they were caught....  

Allie shook her head. If that man was being locked away for no good reason, if he was being abused, beaten and fed pig scraps simply because he looked different from most people then Allie would not stand for that. She would find some other way to provide for her sister without the Treadwells but she would help this man to escape his prison.  

Each creak was somehow magnified as Allie climbed the rickety staircase. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and made quick work of the lock before stepping into the attic and once again locking the door behind her.  

She looked around the dusty, dim interior and searched for any sign of the man but there was none. Clearly he was hiding from her, "Hello? I don't mean you any harm, sir, I simply want to talk."  

A shuffling movement sounded toward the end of the attic that the man always seemed to be. The same place where his bed was.... At the thought of that pathetic excuse for a bed Allie felt her heart break a little more. No one deserved that.  

Allie had lived her entire life seeing things that were unjust and simply unfair. Never had it been something she could simply accept as life. She did not see why some were allowed to live in such extravagance, such as the Treadwells, while other good and decent people were forced to make do with next to nothing.

"Won't you come out and talk to me?"  

"Y...you not s..scared of me?"  

"No," Allie replied honestly. The trembling of fear she felt inside had nothing to do with this man and everything to do with the possibility of Mrs. Treadwell catching her in here speaking to him. She had hurt him so badly for simply spilling a bit of slop. What would she do to him for this?

Allie saw him step out from the shadows behind an old broken dresser. He was once again completely hidden by that thick cloak as he took several limping steps her way, "Why?" he whispered, his voice sounding pained.  

"Why what?" Allie asked, taking several small steps in his direction.  

"W..why are you here?" he questioned. "Why you n..not afraid?"  

"I'm here to talk to you," Allie replied gently. "And I'm not afraid because I have no reason to be. You don't want to hurt me, do you?"  

"No," he replied without a trace of the hesitant stutter that normally marred his words.  

"Good," Allie stepped forward and reached for his cloak but he staggered backward, nearly falling over his left leg. "Why are you hiding from me?" Allie questioned, "You don't hide from Amelia."  

Allie watched him reach up with trembling hands and remove the hood from his head. She worked hard to keep from allowing the gasp that rose up in her throat to leave her mouth as she took in the sight of him.  

The left side of his face was dirty and his cheek sunken in from malnutrition but otherwise it was quite....handsome. Sharp cheekbone, aristocratic nose and an eye so vividly blue it was as if she were looking into the sky on a clear autumn day--the sky always seemed bluer then. His lips were full for a man as they turned down into a fearful frown.... No,  what caused a shocked response upon laying eyes on the man was not the left side of his face but the right.  

His right cheekbone seemed far too large and jutted from his skin. The brow around his eye was also too large and it caused his eye to appear sunken in and cast a bit of a shadow over it. There was also a jagged scar that ran from his deformed brow down to the edge of his tense jaw line.  

"It's nice to properly meet you," Allie said as she held out her hand. "I know you already know my name but I'll tell you again anyhow. My name is Allie Winthrop."  

The man studied her hand a moment as if wondering what she wanted him to do with it and then slowly he reached out with his large, swollen hand and placed it around hers, shaking up and down slowly, "Hi Allie W..Winthrop."  

Allie removed her hand from his and folded her hands in front of her as she smiled, "I shared my name with you, it's only proper that you'd return the favor."  

The man stared hard at her as if trying to figure out some puzzle and then she was certain she saw him blush beneath the dirt on his cheeks as he took a step back and lowered his gaze to her feet, "That's n..not important."  

"What do you mean it's not important?" Allie questioned softly. "Your name is important to me. Everyone has to call you something. What is it?"  

"Monster."  

Allie's heart cried out for this man. He seemed so gentle, so sweet, so kind and so lonely and unsure, "Well I refuse to call you that. So, man-who-has-no-name--" This made his lips curve in a lopsided smile. His left cheek crinkled and his left eye lit up while his right cheek barely moved and his right eyes became more hidden by his bulging brow. "--why are you locked up here?"  

The man's gaze flew back up to her face and he shook his head, "This is m..my home."  

Allie glanced around them, "This is not a home; this is a prison."  

The man shook his head and turned away from her. He motioned her to follow him and so Allie did, keeping her head down to avoid hitting it on the low beams of the ceiling. He stopped at his 

bed and pointed a twisted finger at it, “It is m..my home.”

"Why?" Allie insisted. She was desperate to know why this man was locked up here. "Why is this room your home? Why did they put you up here?"  

He shifted his feet before settling down on his make-shift bed, "I scare p..people."  

"What do you mean, you scare people?" Allie questioned, though she suspected she knew. His appearance, the way he walked, that had to be what scared some people. Allie cursed those people for being cowards. She had never been the type to judge on appearances alone. A person's soul was worth so much more than their outward appearance.  

Instead of answering, the man turned away from her and his long, black, knotted and tangled hair fell over the right side of his face, hiding away his deformities.  

Allie felt her fists clench as her temper rose, "I will make sure you are not up here any longer. I'll go talk to Mrs. Treadwell right this instant."  

Allie turned and was going to leave but the man's good hand closed around her lower arm and stopped her. Allie swallowed hard. She felt a prickling sensation from his touch, an awareness that seemed to race over her body. She looked at him questioningly as he stood there shaking with fear.  

"P...please don't tell,  ma'am." he begged. Allie noticed that the more he talked the less pronounced his hesitant stutter became. She was realizing that perhaps it wasn't a speech impediment and merely a stutter born from a lack of speaking. That made her incredibly sad.  

"Why?" Allie questioned softly, still very much aware that he hadn't released his hold on her. "Why don't you want me to help you?"  

The man's hand let go of her arm and dropped to his side, "She is m..mean. She hurt you. Hurt me. M..make you leave."  

"But this isn't right. You shouldn't be up here. Even if you did something wrong, a jail would give you better treatment than this!" Allie insisted.

"This is m..my home," he assured her in earnest. "I can't..." He shook his head and turned quickly before going back to his bed and pulling a tattered quilt over him, hiding himself from her once again.  

"Your scared to leave aren't you?" she whispered, her heart aching. Of course he was. He'd been up here forever according to him. This room, terrible as it was, was the only thing he knew.  

Allie was going to help him but she had to do so carefully. She was going to have to earn his trust and build up his courage until one day they could work together to get him out of this house and somewhere that he would be treated better.  

She walked to the bed and crouched down before pulling the blanket away from his face. His blue eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty as she laid her hand on his misshapen cheek and smiled gently, "I won't say anything to Mrs. Treadwell, I promise. But I am going to come back and see you every chance I can. Is that okay?"  

Instead of speaking he merely nodded. Allie sighed and stood back up. She didn't want to leave him now but she knew she had to. She had to get lunch to Amelia and spend time with her sister before she continued work that evening.  

With a heavy heart Allie let herself back out of the attic and walked a little ways down the hall before putting her back against the wall and trying to calm her racing mind. That man, it was clear from his appearance, was not much different in age than she was and yet he'd been up there for a long time. That had to mean they'd locked up a child. They had locked up a child and given him nothing but pig slop and beatings. She'd seen the bucket that the poor man must have used to relieve himself in and it broke her heart to know that someone was living that way!  

She was drawn to him, pulled to him in a way that Allie didn't understand. She wanted, 

needed , to help him. There was something in his eyes, in his touch, that beckoned her and Allie would be damned before she allowed these monsters to continue to starve and mistreat him.

She would spend time with him, she would sneak him food, she and Amelia would provide him with companionship. Eventually he would want to leave and when that time came, Allie would help him. It wouldn't be the first time she had run away from somewhere during the night.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Allie did not get a chance to go back up to the attic that night nor the next morning as Mrs. Treadwell had her running frantically, trying to make sure everything was perfect for Theodore's arrival later that evening.  

The flowerbeds were tidy, the walk had been weeded, the porches cleaned and the inside of the house swept, mopped and dusted from top to bottom. The dinner menu was excessive to say the least and Allie couldn't imagine why Theodore coming back home would warrant such a feast.  

There would be a few other guests coming as well and Allie assumed that they were truly who Mrs. Treadwell was hoping to impress. If only the guests knew the secret that Mrs. Treadwell was keeping in her attic; they may not be so keen to spend their time socializing with the monster of a woman. It had taken every bit of Allie's self control to manage the submissive respect that Mrs. Treadwell expected of her.  

"I need you to take these to the attic," Allie whispered as she stepped into her and Amelia's room in late afternoon with a sack of fresh baked biscuits.  

"Where did you get those?" Amelia questioned, showing no surprise at hearing Allie wanted her to go to the attic. The two sisters had talked long and hard about the man up there. While Allie had made it clear that Amelia was not allowed to go into the attic without checking with her first, Amelia seemed pleased that she would still be allowed to spend time with her new friend.  

"Tessa made them and Mrs. Treadwell insisted that because the bottoms were black they were no good. I was supposed to put them in the slop bucket with all the chicken innards but I don't want him eating that so take him these biscuits while they're still warm and tell him I'll bring him more proper food as soon as I can."  

"Okay," Amelia took the sack.  

"I'll bring you a plate up for supper whenever I get a chance so don't spend too much time up there."  

"It'll be fine, Allie," Amelia insisted. "Thank you for giving him a chance."  

Allie smiled and laid her hand on her sisters lightly freckled cheek, "No one deserves the hand he's been dealt in life, Amelia, and you were right to say we have to help him. To ignore him and turn a blind eye to his situation would make us no different than the monsters that put him up there. But we have to be careful. He's very afraid of Mrs. Treadwell and I think we'd do well to be afraid of her also. If she's capable of doing what she's done to him than she could be capable of anything."  

The sisters shared a look of understanding and then both ran off to do their duties.  

---

Allie was dead on her feet, sweating and wishing the night of entertainment could end. She blew a loose strand of her mousy brown hair from her face and winced when Tessa came slamming into the kitchen, "Mrs. Treadwell wants the main course now," she ordered.   

"I'm trying!" Allie insisted.  

"You're gonna have to try harder, suga'," Tessa warned. "That woman won't stand to be embarrassed in front of those other society types out there."  

Allie placed the last of the warm rolls on the platter and picked up the silver dish of roasted chicken, "You get those two vegetable dishes and we'll have to make another trip for the rest."  

Tessa nodded and with their hands full the two women stepped into the dining room. Allie rushed to get the food placed on the table and glanced around at the guests. This was the first she was seeing them having been cooped up in the kitchen. She had no idea who any of them were but it was easy enough to pick Theodore out of the crowd.  

He looked very much like his father and was handsome enough. He was sitting but it was clear that he was quite tall and he had broad shoulders, a sculpted face, neat mustache and blue eyes that were an icy blue identical to his mothers. His black hair was slicked back on his head and his clothes were perfectly tailored.  

"Allie?" Mrs. Treadwell whispered harshly.  

Allie walked to her and leaned down, "Yes ma'am?" she replied, nearly choking on the word of respect.  

Mrs. Treadwell looked down her nose at her, "Why are you so filthy and in such disarray?"

Allie bit her lip as she pushed her stray hair behind her ear and glanced down at her stained apron, "Because I've been working very hard to prepare dinner, ma'am."  

Mrs. Treadwell sniffed, "You are not permitted to come back out around my guests. Allow Tessa to handle the serving. I do not want them seeing you looking so.... 

unkempt .“

"Yes ma'am," Allie replied, standing straight and quickly ducking back into the kitchen. She walked to the counter and gripped the edge as she fought back a wave of dizziness and fatigue as well as temper. She hadn't slept much since coming here, her work schedule did not permit it and the constant pace was beginning to take its toll.  

"Suga', you don't look so good. When was the last time you ate something?" Tessa asked softly.  

Allie wiped her hand over her sweaty brow and shrugged, "I had some oatmeal this morning."  

"You are far too thin as it is and you can't afford to be skippin' meals. You are workin' yourself to the bone, child! Now dinner's been served and dessert is already cooked so why don't ya go on outside and get ya some fresh air for a while until it's time to clean this mess up, suga'?"  

"Tessa, I couldn't do that to you..."  

Tessa waved her hand, "You have worked harder today than I have and it's showin'. As a matter of fact you've been puttin' me to shame since you got here. You deserve a bit of a break." Tessa handed Allie a plate full of the sides that had gone along with the main course, "I couldn't get any chicken for you but this oughta fill you up just fine."  

"Thank you, Tessa."  

Allie took her plate and slipped out the back of the kitchen, down a short hall and then out the back door of the house. Darkness was falling and Allie sat down upon the chair and slowly began to eat her dinner as she enjoyed the cool evening breeze on her face.  

"Enjoying a bit of a break, Miss?"  

Allie's plate clattered upon the wooden porch and what was left of her food splattered with it. She stood quickly and whirled around to see Theodore standing there looking quite sheepish and apologetic.  

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to frighten you."  

Allie shook her head, "I was lost in thought," she replied. She sighed and glanced at the mess, "I should clean this up and get back to work..."  

"I'll help you clean it," Theodore assured it. "It's my fault you dropped it."  

As they picked up the food, Allie studied Theodore. He was very handsome, broad and strong. His features were sharp and masculine and while his eyes were the same icy color as his mother's they didn't seem to hold that same harsh light that Mrs. Treadwell's possessed. One question kept replaying itself in Allie's mind; did he know about the attic and what it held?

"Thank you, sir, you didn't have to help," Allie said as she stood and smoothed out her stained apron, fully aware of how terrible she must look. Not that she cared. Looking prim, proper and pretty was for women who did not have to worry about hiding terrible secrets and ensuring their sister had a next meal. That was for women who had a bit of an easier hand in life than the one she had been dealt.

"Of course I did and call me Theodore," he replied with a smile that was warm and kind. Allie liked his smile but was not fooled by it. There was a good chance this man knew about the man in the attic and Allie would not be friends with anyone who could simply see an injustice such as that happening under their own roof and not do something to help.   

"I'm sure your mother would not approve of that," Allie warned.  

Theodore waved his hand and his blue eyes flashed with good humor, "I love my mother but she is a bit overwhelming even at the best of times. I don't find myself riding quite as high a horse as she tends to sit upon."  

Allie nodded but turned to go in just the same. She didn't need to hear Mrs. Treadwell lecturing her and she was sure that Theodore being out here meant dinner was winding down and she would need to be cleaning the kitchen before sneaking up the plate of food she had hidden in the cellar for the man in the attic.  

She was stopped when Theodore's hand closed around her arm. Instead of feeling that tingling awareness she had felt when the man in the attic had done the same, Allie felt fear and the instinct to either run or fight. It was a knee jerk response to the life she had lived.  

Theodore must have noticed the wildness in her eyes because he quickly let go and tipped his head, "I apologize. I simply wanted to ask you to sit out here with me a while and enjoy the quiet. They still have to finish dessert and a good deal of chit chatting before the guests will be leaving."  

"I'm afraid I can't," Allie shook her head, "I have to be getting inside and helping Tessa."  

"Allow me to get you something else to eat then since I caused you to spill yours," Theodore insisted.  

"I'm not hungry," Allie assured him quickly. She turned her back and stepped into the house.  

"Your name then!" he called out. "I could ask my mother but I'd rather hear it from you. What is your name?"  

Allie sighed and glanced over her shoulder at him, "Allie, sir. My name is Allie."  

She saw him smile with triumph and she quickly ducked her head and made her way back to the kitchen. She knew what men in power thought of the hired help and just what they believed they were entitled to. She would not encourage Theodore when she had absolutely no interest in him or anything he might have to offer her.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Allie carried the covered platter of food down the third story hall that night at well after midnight. The guests were finally gone, the family seemed to have retired to bed and Allie was done with work for the day.  

She peeked inside the bedroom she shared with Amelia and saw her sister sleeping soundly upon the bed with the lamp burning beside her. Allie smiled, took the lamp and closed the door without a sound before going back to the attic stairs.

She climbed them quickly and sat the lamp down as she undid the lock and then stepped inside. She brought the lamp with her and locked the door again.  

"Man-who-has-no-name, where are you?" she called out, holding the lamp and peering through the dark attic.  

"Allie?" his voice came from the usual back corner and Allie smiled at the sound of it. "You c..came back?"  

"Of course I did," Allie replied as she made her way to him and found him standing beside his makeshift bed. "Did you enjoy your time with Amelia today?"  

He smiled, his left cheek crinkling and his left eye sparkling with happiness, "Yes."

Allie studied him in the light of the kerosene lamp and wondered why her heart beat a little faster when he motioned for her to come to the make shift bed as he sat down on it. His leg stuck out at an odd angle as he sat upon the sacks and old clothes and studied her right back.  

"You l..look tired." he stated.  

Allie blushed. She sat her light on the floor and attempted to smooth her hair, "I've been working very hard today," she replied. "Do I look that terrible?"  

"Not t..terrible. Just tired," he patted the makeshift bed again, "You c..can sit. Rest."

"If I sit with you will you tell me about what you and Amelia did today? I'd love to hear about your adventures. She is very fond of you."  

A blush colored the man's cheeks as he smiled and looked down at his hands, one the large, unblemished hand of a man and the other gnarled, twisted and crooked, "I fond of h.her too."  

Allie sat down upon the bed, curling her nose when she smelled the scent of rat droppings. This poor man did not deserve to be living like this and the worst part was that he didn't realize how bad his conditions were. He did not know any better.  

"I brought you dinner," Allie uncovered the platter and the man's eyes widened when he saw the chicken, vegetables, beans, potatoes and pie covering the large platter.  

"Ma'am brought m..my food," he said, pointing toward the bucket in the corner of his little nook.  

Allie knew that bucket was full of chicken innards, bones, uncooked dough and various other scraps that were barely suitable for hogs let alone a human being, "Have you eaten it?" she asked, her voice tight.  

"No, not yet. I full f...from the biscuits."  

Allie smiled at him, "I don't want you eating what Mrs. Treadwell brings you any longer. I will make sure you get at least two good meals a day okay? Real food that will help you get stronger."

"W..why?" he whispered as he picked at his tattered quilt full of so many holes it was barely holding together.  

"Why what?"  

"Why you h..help me?"  

"Because I like you, man-with-no-name," Allie replied honestly. "And because there have been many times when I couldn't help people. I want to help you. Now take the food."  

Allie sat the plate inside his hands and their fingers brushed. Allie again felt that strange awareness that seemed to ricochet throughout her entire body. She watched his face but he was staring down at the platter of food with wide eyes.

"I..is this what it looks like when they e..eat it?"  

Allie felt a pang in her heart, "Yes it is and it's what it's going to look like when you eat it from now on. No more scraps for you."  

The man smiled as he met her eyes, "Thank you. N..no one has c..cared for me since she died."  

"Since who died?" Allie questioned.  

The man took a bite of the chicken and he let out a loud groan of pleasure before answering her, "Harriot, my n..nanny."

Nanny? The man was at least twenty years old surely. What would he have had a nanny for? "I'm sorry she died," Allie offered when she heard the sadness in his voice. "How long ago was it?"  

The man seemed to think hard for a moment, "This will be the t.. twelfth summer."  

He put a bite of beans in his mouth and let out more hungry groans but Allie was too in shock to pay much attention. Twelve years? Had he been up here that long? "Was that when you came up here?"  

"No." The man took a bite of pie and his eyes filled with shock. "This is good!" he exclaimed.  

"Keep your voice down," Allie warned as she laughed lightly at his childlike enthusiasm.  

He slapped his hand over his mouth and his eyes sparkled with laughter though no sound of it filled the air. After he swallowed his bite, he pulled his hand away, "What is t..this?"  

"Pie." Allie replied. "Didn't your nanny bring you real food when she was alive?"  

"It's been s..so long," his eyes became distant. "I think she did."  

"How long have you been up here, man-with-no-name?"  

"I d..don't know. This is home. Forever. Harriot took care of me when I was small until she died. She u..used to read to me and tell me stories. She t..taught me how to talk and brought me toys."  

Allie was confused. A young child that needed a nanny had been locked in an attic?! Her hatred for Mrs. Treadwell grew. Was this all because of how he looked? Sure it was shocking at first sight but it wasn't terrible. He was handsome in his own way and he was charming, sweet and there was something completely endearing about the man. Allie truly liked simply sitting here with him and doing nothing. She had never felt this level of comfort with anyone but her sister; not since she'd been a small child herself.  

"How old are you?" she asked and the question earned her nothing but a shrug as he continued to eat. Allie decided to let the questioning drop for now. She was too tired and physically drained to keep it up. "Tell me what you and Amelia did today."  

The man smiled again and launched into a story. His words were halted and stuttering now and then but not nearly as bad as the first time she had heard him speak. His grammar was lacking at times and he left words out now and then but for a man who had been alone for twelve years he was quite good with speech. He seemed so different already than he had the first time she had seen him. She felt proud and saddened knowing that just a bit of kindness from her and Amelia had made such a difference in his life already.  

Allie listened to his voice and it soothed her, calmed her, relaxed her. She wasn't aware of laying down and curling up on her side. All she was aware of was listening to that sweet voice as she drifted off to sleep.  

---

The first thing he was aware of as he started to awaken was the feel of a warm, small body curled up against him. A head was resting upon his heart and warm breath teased him through his thin, tattered shirt.  

He looked down with confusion and realized it was Allie he was holding this way. Her tiny body was curled around him and she was sleeping peacefully. A strange constriction took hold of his chest as he looked at her.  

She was so beautiful. He only knew of beauty from the few storybooks that he had left in the attic and the small glimpses he got of sunrises and snow drifts out his window but he knew that Allie was beautiful. Only someone beautiful could be so kind, so warm, and would care so much about a monster.  

He had meant to wake her last night, not fall asleep with her but the temptation to simply lay beside another person had been too strong. He had not expected to wake up with her curled up with him this way.  

Smiling, he moved the hair from her face and let his fingertips trace her cheek. She was very thin and pale. She worked too hard for ma'am. He listened sometimes to her and her sister talking. Their room was just below the other end of the attic and he had taken to listening to any conversation he could hear over the years... it was the only time he heard people talking unless it was ma'am simply yelling at him and being cruel.  

He didn't blame ma'am for her cruelty. She had made him see that he had ruined her life a long time ago and he was lucky to even be alive and blessed really that she had given him a place like this attic to call home.  

It wasn't yet dawn but it would be soon. As much as he would love to simply enjoy this closeness a bit longer, it wasn't possible. Ma'am would be coming soon, not to mention his body was in terrible pain from lying flat on his back this way and holding Allie. There was always pain, it had become a daily part of life, but holding her had increased it ten-fold... not that he was complaining. For this heart warming physical contact and peace that consumed him while holding Allie tight, he would endure any pain his body could throw at him.  

But if ma'am caught her here she would make Allie and Amelia leave the house forever and he couldn't stand that.. Not now.. Not when he finally had friends.

He still couldn't believe they were not scared of him. There had been three maids before who had wandered into the attic and caught sight of him. They had each screamed and taken off running and he had never seen them again. Something about Allie and Amelia was different and for that he was thankful.  

"Allie?" he whispered, finding that he wasn't stuttering nearly as bad now that he'd been talking more. It had been hard to speak at first, hard to remember words and how they fit upon his lips but it was getting easier with each conversation.  

She moaned a bit and snuggled closer. He realized that she had drooled through his shirt and he stifled a laugh. He was thankful that ma'am saw fit to let him bathe once a week. He hoped he didn't smell too terrible as she pressed her face against him.  

"You must w.wake up," he urged. Still she slept.  

He was about to give her a shake when the unmistakable sound of ma'am's steps sounded on the attic stairs. He heard the key in the lock and panicked. She couldn't catch Allie, the lamp or the platter, which was now empty, laying up here!  

He leapt to his feet, tossed a blanket over all the things he wished to hide and tried to run quickly around the crates so ma'am would not walk too close. A spasm shot through his nearly useless left leg and his back seized. With a cry of pain he went down hard.  

Instantly he looked through the haze of pain to see Allie throwing the blanket off of her and staring at him with shock. He saw her about to speak and shook his head just as the attic door opened.

Ma'am's icy voice filled the attic as she sneered down at him, "Get off the floor, you pathetic fool,"  

He pushed himself to his feet, using a broken crib beside him to pull up on so he could adjust his left leg beneath him, "Sorry, ma'am," he whispered.  

Forcing the pain from his mind, he limped forward several steps and she sneered, "Why are you not wearing your cloak? You know you are supposed to always wear your cloak!"

"Sorry, ma'am," he whimpered just before her hand shot and fell sharply across his cheek. He wished Allie was not here. He did not want her to see him this way.  

He let his hair fall across the monstrous side of his face and bowed his head to Ma'am, "Bring me your food bucket. I must get it downstairs before the house awakens," she snapped.  

Limping heavily due to pain, and hunched more than normal, he moved across the attic and grabbed the bucket in his hands, cursing the aching in the knuckles of his right hand. He was forced to drag the bucket, his back was hurting too badly to lift it, and he sat it at Ma'am's feet.  

"Did you not eat?" she demanded.  

"I n..not hungry."  

Again her hand fell sharply upon his face and he tasted blood in his mouth, "You will eat the food I bring you or I will stop bringing it and you will die slowly. The choice is yours."  

Before she grabbed the bucket, she reached out and shoved him hard. His aching, twisted body could not handle the sudden force and he crumpled to the floor once again, crying out in pain as he did.  

Curling in a ball he lay there, wishing that he were alone, wishing Allie had not seen what she had seen. He heard the attic door close and lock and then the sound of Allie's skirts as she rushed to him.  

He felt her hands on his back and he whimpered and hugged himself tighter, "Are you okay? Please let me take you away from here. You don't deserve this!" Allie begged.  

Fear filled him. Away? Out there? Out where people would see? Where they would cringe, scream, cry and run from the mere sight of him? No. No. No. He was safe here.  

"I can't. This is h..home," he whispered.  

Allie tugged on him until he sat up and winced in pain, "Please..." she begged. He realized there were tears in her brown eyes. Her tiny hand reached out and wiped his lip and he saw his blood on her fingertips as she pulled her hand away.  

"I can't."  

Allie nodded as she stood and he was surprised when she walked behind him, put her arms under his and began to pull him up. Reaching out the crates he lifted his weight with her help and she walked him over to his bed.  

"I'll be going into town today and I will try my very best to find out what I can get to help your pain."  

He nodded and didn't tell her that usually the pain was not this intense. He had liked holding her while she slept and didn't want her to be afraid to do it again, "I must be going now," she whispered. "I'll be expected in the kitchen soon. I.. I enjoyed my time with you, man-with-no-name. I'll come back tonight.'  

With that Allie rose, gathered up the lamp and the platter and left the attic, leaving him all alone once again. He lay down upon his bed and curled into a ball. When he breathed in he realized he could still smell her upon the rags. He took comfort in that and in the knowledge that he had two friends. He had had no one in a very long time and now he had both Allie and Amelia.  

Letting that knowledge soothe him, he slowly drifted back to sleep, wrapped in a blanket atop the bed that smelled of Allie.

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"I insist on accompanying you to town," Theodore repeated politely with a tip of his head, "It isn't safe for two women to travel alone."  

Allie wanted to tell the man to take a hike and ensure him that it would not be the first time they had traveled with the protection of a man and would be just fine but she didn't. Allie simply glanced at Amelia who seemed enamored with the attractive man's politeness and sighed, "I don't truly have a choice but to accept your company. I am only an employee here."  

"You're not my employee," Theodore frowned his mustache curving with his lips. "I won't bite, Allie, I can assure you. But I will accompany you to town to ensure no harm comes to you," he winked and Allie felt her spine stiffen, "Good servants are hard to come by."  

Allie realized it was no use. She had to go to town and apparently Theodore was not going to let her go alone. She couldn't explain the distrust she had for Theodore. He certainly hadn't done anything to earn it.  

She supposed it was simply born of her dislike for his mother and father, who had a man locked in their attic. A man that she found herself growing very fond of. A flashback of the night before played through her mind. His voice soothing her, relaxing her, lulling her to sleep. Her cheeks reddened when she remembered waking up in the night and realizing she was curled against him with her head on his chest.  

Given Allie's history with men it was incredibly surprising that her first instinct hadn't been to pull away, instead it had been to snuggle closer still and listen to the sound of his heart beating beneath her ear. He had such a good heart. Most people would have been angry, bitter or depressed with the life he'd been dealt but he wasn't. He smiled, he laughed, he had a goodness about him that Allie had never seen in another human.  

She hadn't meant to fall back to sleep all curled up to his thin, twisted body but he'd been so warm and his heartbeat so soothing that that is exactly what she had done.... And nearly been caught! Her blood boiled within her veins as she remembered the way Mrs. Treadwell had treated the man-with-no-name. Allie had cried when she'd returned to her room and rinsed his blood from her fingers.  

She'd been forced to tell Amelia that she'd spent the night in the attic. Not only had Amelia noticed that Allie had not been in their room but she had also commented that Allie seemed much more rested than she had in a long time. Allie wondered what it was about the man-with-no-name that had made her feel so at peace but had no time to dwell on that now.  She had left out the part about sleeping curled up with the man when she had spoken to Amelia. Allie wanted nothing more than to get him out of this house and away from these people but it would take time before he felt strong and brave enough to leave.  

She was aware of Theodore clearing his throat as they stood in the sitting room and she nodded slightly, "Very well then. I will go have a cart readied for us..."

"I can do that," Theodore countered with a triumphant smile. "You and Amelia go ready yourselves and meet me outside." He gave her one more predatory look before walking away.

 Allie shook her head after he had gone, "Ready ourselves? I thought we were ready..."  

"You cannot go looking like that!" Amelia countered with horror.  

Allie looked down at her stained apron and plain brown skirt and white blouse, "Why can't I?"  

"Your hair is a mess, your face is pale and those clothes do nothing for you. You have to look your best, Allie. This Theodore is quite handsome and he seems taken with you."  

"I cannot see why," Allie replied dryly. "Not with how horrid you apparently believe me to look."  

Amelia shook her head, "You don't look horrid. But you should go try to make yourself look better. Your pink blouse puts more color in your cheeks."  

"Amelia, honestly!" Allie cried with exasperation as Amelia tugged her toward the stairs. "I see no reason to try to impress Theodore."  

"And why not?" Amelia demanded. "He seems kind. He's handsome, interested and filthy rich. What better a man to settle down with?"  

"Amelia! Money and looks are not the determining factors in deciding to spend your life with someone. I have no interest in Theodore." Despite Allie's words she still allowed Amelia to continue to drag her to their bedroom.  

"Allie, you're always saying you want to find a better life for us aren't you? How much better can it get? A nice, rich man who would take care of both of us so you wouldn't have to work so hard."  

"Yes, who also happens to be the son of the woman who is keeping a man locked in her attic and abusing him every chance she gets!" Allie reminded her sister while changing into her pink blouse simply to please the girl.  

"Maybe he doesn't know... and maybe he'll help get the man out of here and somewhere safer, like one of those institutions they have back east. With his money he could afford a very nice one. Ms. Petrey was telling us about them..."  

Amelia continued to talk about those institutions as Allie went about trying to fix her hair and lost herself in thoughts of the man in the attic. The idea of him in one of those places, cold stone and metal surrounding him and people that were insane for his only company, made her incredibly sad. The thought of him drugged and lonely caused her heart to hurt. One thing was for sure; she would not see him in a place like that. Allie wasn't sure what the future held when he left this place but it would not be in a cold, overcrowded, stone walled 

institution. She would not free him from this prison simply to place him in another.

"Amelia, you should get those thoughts from your mind before you are disappointed. I have no intention of courting any man, especially one like Theodore. There is no way the man has lived in this house for over twenty years and remained oblivious to the man-with-no-name living up in that attic. Anyone who would sit by and simply allow that kind of treatment is not anyone I will ever have any kind of affair with."

Amelia sighed, "You look much nicer now."  

Allie rolled her eyes as she glanced in the mirror. She did look nicer but she hadn't done it for Theodore, she had done it simply to shut Amelia up.  

"Allie, couldn't you at least talk to Theodore? Get to know him? I heard Peter and Jacob talking about him. He doesn't live here very often, you know. He has his own home in the city and does a lot of business out there. Maybe he really doesn't know...."

"That man has been in the attic for over twelve years. He's been up there since Theodore was at least ten but probably for longer. I'm sure he knows," Allie countered but Amelia's words had caused her to think.  

Maybe Theodore could be an ally. She could befriend him, earn his trust and then, when the time came, possibly use that friendship to enlist his help in getting the man-with-no-name out of here and away from Mrs. Treadwell.  

"Well come on then," Allie urged, holding out a hand for Amelia who was pouting on the edge of the bed, "Theodore will be waiting for us."  

---

"I must go to the land office and have a chat with a man there. Why don't you two ladies wait for me at the mercantile and I will be there as quickly as I can?" Theodore offered as he pulled the cart to a stop in front of the large store at the center of town.  

Amelia leapt out of the back of the buggy and Allie was about to climb down off the seat but Theodore jumped out and was to her side before she could. He held out his arms and Allie felt her body stiffen when she realized he wanted to lift her down.  

She did not like being touched. It was something that had been born of the life she had lived and yet she saw no way to avoid Theodore touching her just now.  

His hands closed around her waist and lifted her off the cart. As he sat her on her feet, Allie waited for him to release his hold but he did not. She glanced up at his face to find his ice blue eyes looking deeply into hers and what she saw in them made her nearly vomit. Lust.  

A man with lust in his eyes was a truly dangerous, deadly and disgusting creature. Lust made men lose their minds. It caused them to ignore a woman's assurance that she was unwilling and take what they wanted anyway. It caused a father to forget the child beneath him was his own flesh and blood daughter.....

His lips lowered toward Allie's and her heart seized up with fear.

Theodore seemed to notice the way her face had paled and that lust in his blue eyes was quickly replaced by concern, "Are you feeling alright?" he questioned as he released his hold on her waist and pressed his wrist to her brow, checking for fever.  

"I'm just fine," Allie assured him, pushing memories from her mind as she adjusted her blouse. "I'm just a bit tired I suppose."  

"My mother works you too hard," Theodore lamented with a bit of irritation. "She does that to every new servant that she hires and that's why they don't last her. Tessa is the only house servant who has ever managed to remain at her post and I have yet to learn the secret to her seemingly boundless energy."  

"A woman does what she must to survive and earn a living," Allie informed him as Amelia came to stand beside her.  

"Yes, but a beautiful woman such as you deserves a pampered life. Not a life of cleaning up after others and slopping hogs."  

Allie bristled,  "Not all of us were quite lucky enough to be born with any spoon at all in our mouths, let alone a silver one."  

Theodore appeared quite humbled by her words and that surprised Allie. He took a step back and tipped his head, "You're right, ma'am. I was born with more than most are born with."

"My sister didn't mean to insult you..." Amelia quickly spoke.  

Theodore flashed her a warm smile, "Your sister was putting me in my place and she had every right to. Why don't you run along to the mercantile and let me speak to you sister alone please?"  

Amelia looked up at Allie and Allie could see the pleading in her younger sister's brown eyes. She nodded once and Amelia smiled brightly before dashing off into the large building that boasted of having 'anything you could ever need' on the sign beside the door.  

"Miss Winthrop, I want to apologize to you. I have been very presumptuous and merely assumed that given your status and mine you would appreciate my advances and..."  

"Fall at your feet?" Allie questioned with a raise of her brow.  

Theodore winced and nodded, his gaze falling away from her, "Yes. Will you forgive me? I am very interested in getting to know you, perhaps even court should you find me worthy."  

"I doubt that your mother would approve of such a courtship," Allie countered. She hated the way her mind responded to his words. Her mind was happy about his admission and it let itself imagine a life with a rich husband who spoke so sweetly and would make sure that both her and her sister were taken care of.  

Theodore tipped his head as his back stiffened, "As I've said before, I am not my mother. I must get to the land office now. I'll be back just as soon as I'm done."  

Without another word and without giving her time to respond, Theodore walked away down the boardwalk. Allie watched him go and then shook her head to clear the ridiculous thoughts filling it. It was wrong to consider a future with a man simply because he could offer security. Allie felt nothing for Theodore other than disgust at knowing he had to have knowledge of the attic and had done nothing... but then again a friendship with Theodore could prove to be an asset when it came to rescuing the man-with-no-name from his attic prison.  

It was a rather slippery pathway she was walking but it had to be walked. Allie would do whatever was necessary to get the man-with-no-name out of that attic.  

Instead of heading into the mercantile, Allie walked three doors down and stepped into a store claiming to have medicinal supplies of all kinds. Instantly she could smell the cloying scents of all different herbs and teas filling her nose.  

"Hello?" Allie called out as she looked around at the bottles covering the shelves behind the counters.  

"Hi, sweetheart," an elderly man with bright white hair and a thick mustache came out of a back room and smiled warmly at her. He adjusted his thin rimmed glasses and tipped his head, "What can I do for you today?"  

Allie stepped up to the counter and chewed on her lip, "I need medicine."  

"You've come the right place," the man winked with amusement.  

Allie smiled, "I have a friend who has a lot of pain."  

The man pulled off his glasses and began cleaning them on his white apron, "What kind of pain?"  

"His joints seem swollen in his hand and they hurt him... also his leg gives him trouble and I think his back does too."  

"You should have him come see my brother. He's the doc here in town and he might be able to better help him..."  

"No," Allie shook her head and stared at the polished wood counter, "He can't come into town--or he won't. He...."  

"Forgive me for interrupting you, miss, but aren't you the girl that recently got hired on at the Treadwell home?"  

Allie nodded as she folded her hands in front of her, "Yes, sir."  

"What is this man's name?" the store keep asked quietly as he slipped his glasses back on his nose.  

Allie met his eyes and she was certain saw some kind of knowing light inside of them, "I...His name is..." Allie tried to think of a name quickly but her mind failed her.  

The store keep nodded and turned away from her, glancing at the bottles on the shelves behind him. Allie had no way of knowing what he was thinking as he muttered quietly and scanned the bottles.  

Finally he reached out and grabbed a corked bottle. He turned and held it out for her, "This here is an herb called Meadowsweet. It's real good at easing pain. Just have your friend brew some into tea and drink a cup at least once a day. That should give him some comfort."  

"Thank you," Allie dropped the bottle into her skirt pocket.  

"There's something else..." The man came around the counter and walked to the wall where there were tins lining a shelf. He clicked his tongue and continued his incoherent mumbling before grabbing a tin and turning back to her, "This here is a special salve made from lots of different ingredients. It's good for sore joints and arthritis. Have your friend rub this on the joints that are bothering him and it will help his pain as well. Of course sometimes the best thing for damaged joints is to exercise them."  

"Thank you," Allie took the tin as well and placed it in her pocket with the bottle. "How much will that be?"  

The man waved his hand, "On the house."  

"Sir, that's nice but I have money..."  

"How about this then?" he grumbled, rubbing at his white mustache, "A week trial. If in a week your friend has less pain I'll allow you to pay. If he doesn't then I won't charge a dime."  

Allie wanted to argue but life had taught her not to decline charity because it did not present itself very often, "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much."  

"You're welcome, dear," he replied warmly. Then his eyes turned soft, "Take care of your 

friend out there at the Treadwell’s,“ he added pointedly.

Did he know? Dear Lord did everyone in this Godforsaken town know that the Treadwell's had a man in their attic and simply chose to ignore it! Allie shook her head, thanked him again and walked outside.  

She couldn't wait to get back to the attic and hopefully offer that poor man a bit of relief.

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

"Can I go with you?" Amelia whispered, surprising Allie who had believed the girl to be sleeping.  

"No," Allie replied, turning back to see Amelia sitting up on the bed. "It's past midnight and you need to be sleeping."  

"So do you," Amelia countered.  

"I will," Allie assured her. "But first I must brew this tea for the-man-with-no-name and see that he gets this ointment rubbed on his hand. I can't stand the thought of him up there in pain."  

"He does seem to be hurting more today," Amelia agreed. "And his lip was hurt but he wouldn't tell me how it happened."  

Allie felt her temper spike as she remembered the sound of Mrs. Treadwell striking him in the mouth, "Yes, well that's why I got him medicine. I don't like thinking of him in pain."  

Amelia stared hard at her a moment and then a bright smile lit up her face, "I understand now!"  

"What do you understand?" Allie asked with a sigh as she released her hold on the door knob and gave her sister her full attention.

"You're in love with the man in the attic!" Amelia exclaimed.  

Allie rolled her eyes, "Will you keep your voice down when you speak such nonsense?"  

"It's not nonsense, Allie, it's the truth! That's why you're not interested in Theodore. That's why you spent the night up there with him and came down so well rested when you usually don't trust men enough to turn your back on them."

"Why would you think that I don't trust men?" Allie questioned quickly. She had thought she had hidden her one true fear more properly from her little sister.  

"Amelia, I know I'm only eight years old but I'm smarter than you give me credit for. I don't know why you don't trust men but I know you don't. So that's why I should have realized your feelings for the man in the attic before right now."  

"I have no feelings for him other than fondness, friendship and pity," Allie assured her, unable to keep her heart from swelling and beating faster at just the thought of that man. It made no sense. Men were dangerous and they hurt you. They all hurt you. So why was she not afraid of 

him ? Why had she curled up to him and felt such peace as they had slept in each others arms?

"Liar," Amelia teased. "I like him more than Theodore. Theodore is the more secure choice but you don't trust him and you don't seem to like him either." Allie shook her head at the way her sister spoke. She sounded like a grown woman instead of an eight year old child.  

Allie thought of the many times that Theodore had attempted to touch her throughout the day. It had been innocent enough, simple brushes of their hands, helping her on and off the wagon, his hand on her upper back, guiding her down the road, but Allie had felt an undercurrent of something else.... It was still as if the man simply expected her to accept him and was not going to take no for an answer.  

"Amelia, you are speaking nonsense," Allie assured her with a wave of her hand. "I am not interested in Theodore or the man in the attic. I have far too much to concern myself with to be worried about finding a man."  

"Allie, you've spent your whole life worrying about me but I'm not a baby anymore. You can worry about you now."  

Allie sighed and walked to the bed. She kissed Amelia's brow and laid her hand on her cheek, "You and I are a team, Amelia. We are all we need to be happy." Allie laid the doll that Amelia had gotten from the man in the attic on the girls chest and she snuggled up to it, "Now get some sleep. You cannot come because Mrs. Treadwell tends to come to the attic at night and I don't want her catching you there."  

"Don't let her catch you either," Amelia warned.  

Allie kissed her brow gain, "I won't. Now sleep."  

Making her way to the kitchen, Allie thought about what Amelia had said. What did she feel for the man in the attic?  Allie shook her head. She had no time to let her mind wander to something so ridiculous. She had to get him better, get him out of this house and then find a way to support both him and Amelia.  

But first things were first--she had to boil some tea.  

---

She wasn't coming tonight. Disappointment filled him when he realized that was the truth. Of course it was probably best that way. He wasn't sure what it was she was causing him to feel but he was sure it was something he would regret.  

Holding her in his arms had been.... It had been heaven. Allie had given him his first true taste of physical contact between a man and a woman and surely if he allowed himself to dwell on that it would end with pain. He didn't know much of love or romance, only what he had read in books, but he did know that he wasn't the type of man that anyone could love.  

Ma'am made sure he knew that much.  

He touched his swollen lip and remembered the way Amelia had questioned him about the injury. Amelia was another new and wonderful thing in his life. She was so sweet and warm. She was his friend and he was very grateful for that. Her visits made some of the lonely time pass just a bit more quickly.  

But Amelia would be sleeping now and Allie must be too. He would be sleeping alone tonight. He had been alone at night for as long as he could remember so it shouldn't bother him; he shouldn't crave company, but he did.  

It would be better if they stayed away. Away from him and away from the attic. Better he got used to being alone again. Better that ma'am not catch them, punish them, make them leave.  

Slowly he dragged his leg to the window, the pain in his back still worse than he could ever remember it being before. He put his hand to his scarred and disfigured cheek and looked through the dirt and dust to see the outside world. He could see the corner of a barn and one of the corrals. Plains and hills faded into the background, lit up by the moonlight.  

He wondered for a moment what the air outside would feel like against his skin, what the light of the sun or the moon would feel like shining on him... then he shook his head and shivered.

The attic was home and he could not leave it.  

Turning away from the window, he thought of going back to his bed when a sound changed his mind. He would know those footsteps anywhere. Allie was coming up the attic stairs.  

---

Allie stepped into the attic and locked the door quickly behind her. She balanced the cup and saucer in one hand and her lantern in the other as she ducked her head to avoid the support beams and looked around for the man with no name.  

"Hi, Allie," his voice came from near the window so Allie headed that way, making her way between crates, boxes and old dusty dressers and bed frames. She was happy to hear him say her name though she wondered how he had known it was her.  

When her eyes fell on him he was all wrapped up in that cloak and standing in shadows. Allie held the lantern higher and shook her head, "You know I don't like that cloak. You don't have to hide from me."  

His cloak fell back and the happy smile on his face had Allie's heart beating faster and Amelia's words replaying themselves in her mind, 

‘You’re in love with the man in the attic.’

"You s..shouldn't come, you know. Ma'am would be angry."  

Allie shook her head, "It seems that ma'am is always angry. She doesn't truly need a reason." Allie held up the tea, "This is for you."  

He seemed confused as he tilted his head and frowned, "What is it?"

Allie smiled, realizing he was barely stuttering at all tonight, "It's tea. I thought you might like it. I got a special herb from a store in town. It's supposed to help with pain."  

"My pain not t..too bad."  

Allie knew he was lying. She reached out and traced her thumb along his swollen lip, "You are a terrible liar, man-with-no-name. Please take the tea. I made it just for you."  

A flush covered his hollow cheeks below the stubble and the dirt and he moved his face away from her touch, "Thank y...you," he whispered.  

Allie swallowed hard, nodded and handed him the cup and saucer. He took it in his left hand and then motioned toward the bed. Allie grabbed the lantern from the crate she'd sat it upon and walked to his bed, sitting down upon it and smoothing out her skirts as he lowered himself beside her, his left leg sticking out awkwardly.  

"I'm sorry I couldn't bring you any dinner," Allie said after several moments of quiet. "I never got the chance to set anything aside."  

"That's okay..." He took a sip of his tea and his eyes widened, "That's hot!"  

Allie laughed into her hand, "Yes it is."  

"It's g..good though." he added before taking another sip.  

"I hope you aren't too hungry," Allie continued, chewing on her lip. "I made sure you got breakfast and did Amelia bring you those candies and nuts from town?"

He nodded and lifted a side of his bed revealing the sack from the general store, "Thank you f..for caring."  

"Of course I care, man-with-no-name." Allie smiled and bumped his arm gently with her shoulder causing him to blush and stare down into his tea, his lips curving into a half of a smile.  

"How did you get that scar?" Allie asked suddenly.  

His blue eyes filled with fear and he let his tangled hair fall over his face as he shook his head, "Don't look."  

Allie felt pain fill her own heart. She took the nearly empty tea cup away from him and sat it and the saucer upon the floor before putting her hands on his cheeks and turning his head to face her, "Don't hide yourself from me. I happen to think you're quite handsome."  

His deep blue eyes widened with surprise, "You do?"  

"I do," Allie replied, knowing she meant it. This man was beautiful inside and out.  

"I was born like this," he whispered, his eyes seeming to search hers.  

Allie felt an urge inside of her that both frightened and confused her. She wanted to kiss him.  

Never had Allie ever wanted to kiss a man. Quickly she released her hold on him and handed him back his tea, "You better finish that," she urged. "And you weren't born with that scar." She traced it with her finger and felt him tremble.  

"I don't know..." he replied. "The s..scar has been there always."  

Allie suspected she might know where that scar had come from and it only caused her to hate Mrs. Treadwell and everyone else who knew this man was up here, that much more. She hated Mrs. Treadwell, her husband, Tessa, that medical man in town, Theodore and all others who simply chose to turn a blind eye to this beautiful man and his suffering.  

"I should be getting back to my room. It's late," Allie whispered, though it was the last thing she wanted to do.  

"Please stay.." he pleaded quietly. "I tell you a s..story."  

Allie smiled, "What kind of story?"  

"A story my nanny told me many times."  

Allie smiled and curled up against his chest as he leaned against the wall and held out his arm. She listened to his heart as he launched into a story about a young boy, feared by all, that went on a quest, rescued a princess and saved the world.  

When he was done they somehow found themselves once again laying upon the bed all curled up with one another. Allie didn't want to leave and she leaned over and blew out the lantern.  

"Can I ask you something?" she whispered in the darkness.  

His hand stroked her back causing her to tremble wildly and yet fill with a peace and a comfort that she had only ever found in this man's arms. It was a strange and curious thing but that did not make it any less of a truth.  

"Yes."  

"What is your name?"  

He stiffened, "It's not important."  

"It is to me," Allie urged.  

"Ma'am t..told me to never tell anyone."  

"I care about you very much. Doesn't that make me more than just anyone?" Allie questioned.  

She glanced up at the bottom of his jaw and realized he had a very strong jaw and she could only imagine how much stronger it would be when he began to fill back out from good meals.  

"Yes you are more," he whispered. "No one has said m..my name in a long time."  

"I want to know your name. You deserve a name."  

"Okay."  

"You have to tell me in order for me to use it," Allie reminded him.  

She saw him smile, though it was a nervous smile, "Michael. They used to call me Michael."

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

 Allie stepped outside into the sunshine and let it shine on her face a moment. The weather was warmer each day and it felt good to be outside after spending the first half of the day polishing silver in the kitchen.  

Then Allie thought of Michael and remembered him whispering this morning about how he had no idea what the sunshine felt like and her good mood disappeared. She had been spending nearly every night with him for nearly a week and was no closer to knowing who he was or how he had ended up in that attic. Whenever she asked he merely said it wasn't important and that he was there because he scared people.  

Scared people? Compared to his captors Michael was an angel--compared to anyone Allie knew the man was an angel. She wanted nothing more than to help him.  

Allie stretched out her aching shoulders. She was happy to have a bit of a break from the chores though she wished it was a long enough break that she could sneak up to Michael. Mrs. Treadwell's work lists for her had been getting shorter lately and Allie guessed that was a sign that she had passed the initiation phase of her hiring. Just now Mrs. Treadwell was in her sewing room, Mr. Treadwell was in his office, Peter and Jacob were somewhere playing in the house and Theodore was.... Well Allie didn't know exactly but at least that meant he wasn't sniffing around her skirt tails the way he had been all week. With the family otherwise occupied it meant she had time to relax for a moment.  

"Hello, Allie." Frank, the ranch hand who had first brought Allie and Amelia out to the ranch several weeks ago greeted her as he walked past the porch.  

An idea suddenly came to her and Allie smiled brightly, "Frank, can we speak for a moment?"

Frank spared a glance at the house, "If Mrs. Treadwell catches us yakking instead of working she'll be mighty angry," he warned.  

"She's locked up in her sewing room with a bottle of brandy," Allie waved her hand. It seemed the woman spent at least a few hours a day locked up with whichever liquor had seemed most appealing that day. "She has no idea that the world is still spinning just now."  

Frank chuckled and pulled off his hat, "I can't stop for long but you've bought yourself a few minutes. What were you wanting to talk about then?"  

"Not so much something but someone," Allie stepped off the porch and led Frank a few feet away just in case anyone should happen near the door. She didn't want them being overheard. "Who is Michael?"  

Franks face instantly paled. He swallowed hard and wrung his hat in his hands as his frantic eyes shifted up to the house and then back to her, "You shouldn't be saying that name, Allie. The lady of the house doesn't take too kindly to hearing that name spoken."  

Allie wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged, "Who is he?"  

"

Was he, Allie. Michael ain’t around any more.“

"Yes he is!" Amelia's voice chimed in and Allie turned to see her sister coming off the porch toward them.  

Frank seemed confused, "I think you girls are mistaken. Now Michael has been dead and gone a long time and if you need proof then just head up that hill there to the family cemetery. You keep saying that name you're gonna get yourselves in trouble. Now I don't want no more part in this because I need to keep this damn job. Good day to you both."  

With that Frank fled toward the barn earning him odd looks from several other hands that had seen the exchange, "What in the world is the matter with him?" Amelia snorted.  

Allie looked up the hill to the graves under a large sycamore. She hadn't gone up there since coming to this house so she had no idea whose graves those were, "Have you been to see him today?" she asked her sister.  

"Yes. He seems to be moving around a lot better, Allie. I think that tea is starting to work." Allie nodded, her mind still on that hill. "I noticed you spent the night with him again last night...."  

"Amelia, don't use that tone! Nothing happened."  

Amelia grinned, "Are you sure? Because that's the fifth night you've spent with him."  

Allie thought to the nights she had not been able to stay with him this week and just how poorly she had slept without his arms around her and his heartbeat beneath her ear. Allie had never depended on anyone, she had never needed anyone, but she was finding that she depended on Michael--at least when it came to getting a good nights rest.  

"I'm not talking about this with you," Allie stated pointedly. "Michael and I are just friends and I'm only trying to keep him company until I can convince him to leave this place."  

"According to Frank, Michael is dead," Amelia countered.  

"Yes and that's quite confusing. Unless our Michael is a different Michael than the Michael that Frank is referring to and Frank simply has no knowledge of our Michael."  

"Was I supposed to be able to follow that?" Amelia questioned while scratching at her head.  

Allie shook her head, "Let's go see who's buried up there."  

"Okay, I don't have lessons today and Peter and Jacob won't let me play in the toy room with them. They said they're playing cops and robbers and the only way I can play is if I allow them to tie me up and put me on their toy railroad tracks," Amelia snorted, "I'm not a damsel in distress and if I were I'd pick a better hero to rescue me than Jacob. He'd sooner toss someone in front of a train than he would pull them out of the way."  

Allie smiled and took Amelia's hand as they started the long walk up toward the cemetery, "At least they did offer you a chance to play today. That's progress isn't it?"  

"Jacob told me I was pretty yesterday," Amelia admitted, sounding quite disgusted.  

Allie's eyes widened in surprise, "And what did you say?"  

"I told him if he didn't watch his mouth I'd kick him between his legs."  

"You can't be talking that way to him! If his mother finds out we'll both be in trouble."  

Amelia rolled her eyes, "He won't tattle. He doesn't want me gone, Allie, he wants me to be his girl." Amelia shivered, "I'd rather choke on a chicken bone."  

"Amelia Winthrop!"  

"What about you and Theodore. I'm surprised he let you out his sights today," Amelia teased.  

"I have no idea where he is. If he has any brains about him at all he'll be in town finding another woman to woo."  

"He hasn't been wooing you so far as I can tell. He's only been trying to get you into his bed."  

"Amelia!" Allie gasped as she shook her head and pinched her nose, "You are impossible! No eight year old girl should talk that way."  

"I grew up in an orphanage," Amelia shrugged. "I heard worse than that at the breakfast table."  

Allie sighed because she knew it was the truth. Amelia launched into a tale about the worst thing she ever heard over breakfast but Allie blocked her out as her mind went to Michael just as it seemed to always do.  

They reached the cemetery and Allie felt chills race down her spine as bumps covered her arms and her hair stood up on her neck. She swallowed hard and glanced around trying desperately to ignore the oppressive thickness of the air around them.  

"We have to find the headstone for a man named Michael. That might tell us who he was at least," Allie spoke, her voice seeming louder somehow up on this hill.  

"Yeah but it won't help us know who that is in the attic," Amelia noted.  

Allie felt her fist clench as she went about checking headstones. She had a suspicion; one that she truly prayed was far off base and wrong but one that she was nearly certain was going to prove to be correct.  

"Allie, I found one!" Amelia exclaimed happily. "That schooling is paying off. I can actually read a bit."  

Allie walked over to her sister on stiff legs. She looked down at the headstone and felt her heart twist until it broke when she read what was carved into the stone.  

Michael Treadwell

Born: February 15

th

1860

Died: June 2

nd

1862

Gone but never forgotten and finally at peace

"No wonder Mrs. Treadwell doesn't want anyone talking about him," Amelia said sadly. "He was only two years old when he died."  

Allie's hands shook as she fought back tears born of sadness and rage alike, "No, Amelia, you're wrong."  

Amelia's brow wrinkled as she held up her hand, "No, I'm not. Sixty to sixty-two is two years....."  

"You're right about that," Allie agreed. "But he didn't die at the age of two."  

"He didn't?" Amelia seemed even more confused.  

A tear slipped down Allie's cheek, "No. At the age of two he was locked away inside an attic."

---

Michael shuffled to the dirty window and glanced out into the daytime. He was surprised by how well he was moving today. The tea that Allie had been bringing him every day seemed to be easing the aching in his back and leg and the cream she'd rubbed on his knuckles every night was helping the stiffness and swelling in his right hand. He could nearly bend all his fingers completely now.  

He smiled as he thought about her. Allie. His angel. His best friend. He'd read about best friends in books and now he finally had a best friend of his own and he had another friend in Amelia. Never had Michael thought he'd have friends or be happy. He hadn't realized he wasn't happy until Allie and Amelia had wondered into his attic and then chosen to come back again and again.  

Allie caused him to feel things that he didn't understand. His heart seemed to beat faster whenever he saw her and his palms grew damp with sweat when he was anticipating her visits. His stomach would be so tied in knots awaiting her arrival and then when she finally came into the attic his lips would curve into a smile that he couldn't erase.  

When she would touch him gently, whether it was a simple touch to his arm while they talked or gently resting a hand against his disfigured cheek, Michael would feel a heat spread throughout him that he had no knowledge or understanding of. All he knew was that he wanted her closeness, he needed her presence, her touches, her voice, the joy that she brought into his dark and cold existence. He'd lived a long long life without her but after this last week he prayed he'd never have to live without her again.  

Michael moved away from the window and walked to his bed. He pulled back the corner of his rag filled sack mattress and lifted out a bag still half full of nuts and began to munch on them. The large meals of real food had already begun to put weight on him. He could tell when he put on his clothes that they were fitting tighter and he could move around more easily now without feeling quite as tired as he had before.   

He knew he had Amelia and Allie and the risks they were taking for him to thank. His only hope was that ma'am would never catch them....

Footsteps sounded on the attic steps. Footsteps that Michael didn't recognize. Quickly he donned his cloak and hid in the back corner, furthest from the door.  

"Jacob, we shouldn't be up here. We're gonna get caught," a boy voice spoke as the attic door opened.  

"No we won't, Peter. I swiped the key from mama and she was too lost in her liquor bottle to notice. No one is gonna catch us just so long as you hush," another boy replied.  

Michael had never met Jacob or Peter but he had heard enough about them from Amelia to know that they were bad news and he didn't like them. Anyone who could be cruel to Amelia wasn't anybody that Michael cared to know.  

"Do you really think there's a monster up here?" Peter spoke again, as the boys entered the attic and stepped upon the wooden floor boards. Michael sank deep into his cloak and crouched down in the shadows, praying they wouldn't find him.  

"Sure do," Jacob replied. "I heard mama talking to daddy about how ugly it is." Michael winced at this.  

"Look!" Peter exclaimed. "It's got its own little bed up here and it's drawn pictures all over the walls."  

"Yep.'  

"Jacob, what are we going to do if we see it? I mean, if it's a monster it might try to eat us or something." Michael made a face. He wasn't 

that hungry.

 "That's what we got these clubs for, Peter," Jacob replied and Michael swallowed hard. "We're gonna find it and we're gonna kill it."

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Michael trembled with fear as he wrapped himself up tighter in his cloak and hid in the corner. He listened with trepidation to Jacob and Peter getting closer and closer while they laughed about how they were going to kill the monster.  

Him.  

He was the monster they were hunting.  

Why did they want to hurt him? Michael didn't even know who they were and only knew their names because of Amelia telling him stories about them. He had never done anything to either of these boys, or to anyone else in the world, but they were here, in his space, with clubs and they wanted to hit him with them.  

Michael couldn't see them from his hiding space but his heart beat harder and harder as their footsteps grew nearer. He looked through the darkness beneath his hood and forgot to breathe for a moment when one of the boys came around the crate he was hiding behind.  

"Shit! I found him!" Michael recognized Jacob's voice.  

"Why's he back there hiding?" Peter questioned, coming to stand beside Jacob.  

"I don't know..." Jacob reached out with the wooden club in his hand and poked Michael with it. Michael whimpered and curled up tighter into the corner. "Come on, monster!" Jacob urged, poking him harder. "Do something!"  

Michael shook his head thankful that his face was hidden by the hood of his cloak, "Go away," he whispered.  

"It talks!" Peter exclaimed. "I think it's a person, Jacob. Maybe we should leave it alone."  

Michael hoped that Jacob would listen to Peter. He hoped they'd both walk away and simply forget that he was up here.  

But it seemed that Jacob had other ideas. Painful ideas.  He snorted at Peter's suggestion and then swung his club The thick piece of wood caught Michael hard in the arm. Pain resonated through his body and Michael cried out.  

"Stop, Jacob..." Peter urged uncertainly, his face growing a bit green.  

Jacob whirled around to face him, "Either you help me or I'll hit you too!" He warned and Michael could tell that he meant every word.  

Peter swallowed hard, clearly he believed Jacob too. The younger boy nodded slowly. Before Michael could beg for mercy they descended on him.  

Each whack of those clubs against his body sent his stomach rolling. Michael felt tears slipping down his cheeks as they assaulted him. Somehow he managed to climb to his feet and shove himself between them, knocking them back. He fled but they were behind him, laughing, jeering, telling him he was going to die.  

Michael had to get away!

He dragged himself across the attic and saw the open door. He could go that way. He could leave. He could be out of the attic and away from here. Allie would help him.  

Michael tried to take a step toward freedom but froze. He couldn't. He couldn't leave the attic. The attic was home. He had no idea what waited for him outside that door.  

"We've got you now, you monster!" Jacob yelled and Michael felt the crushing blow land upon his stooped back. He cried out with pain and went down hard. Michael closed his eyes and curled up in a ball as blow after blow landed upon his already battered body. He closed his eyes tight and prayed the pain would end. He thought of Allie; he pictured her face and tried to ignore the abuse that his body was taking.  

He thought of her brown eyes looking at him with such love and held on to that image, only releasing it after one of the clubs made a direct impact with his face and then another with the back of his head.  

The pain was more than Michael could stand. Blood filled his mouth and poured from his nose. His head seemed to vibrate from the impact and his vision was swirling. The boys were laughing now; their clubs falling with more malice and force.  

Footsteps bounded up the attic stairs and Michael prayed it was either someone to save him or finish him off--though the latter would end this pain more quickly.  

"What in the hell are you boys doing?!"  

Michael peeked through his hood and saw Theodore. His blue eyes were angry as he stared hard at Peter and Jacob.  

"Shit, Theo, don't you dare tell on us!" Jacob warned.  

Theodore shook his head, "You're lucky I don't beat you both myself!" he warned. "You know I won't tell on you. Hell, mama barely holds on to sanity as it is without me telling her about something like this."  

Michael's vision was fading in and out. He knew he was going to lose consciousness as the blood from his mouth and nose pooled inside his cloak, soaking into the stiff, dirty fabric.  

He saw Theodore reach out and take each of the boys by the ear before shoving them out of the attic, "Ya better get downstairs and pretend you've been reading or something," Theodore warned.  

He turned back to Michael and shook his head, "What's the matter with you?" he demanded with exasperation.  

Michael was used to seeing Theodore now and then. He brought his slop bucket up to him from time to time and he helped Michael bath and shave once a week when he was around. He never hurt Michael but he was never kind either--Michael had once thought that Theodore's actions were born of kindness but he'd learned from the way Allie and Amelia treated him that they weren't.  

Michael felt Theodore's hands under his arms and the man hoisted him to his feet. Michael cried out with pain and wept as Theodore dragged him across the attic and then tossed him down in his bed, causing him to land roughly on his crooked leg and sending a fresh wave of pain blasting through him.  

Theodore sneered, "They were nothing but a couple of kids with sticks and they made short work of you, Monster. You really are pathetic."  

With that Theodore walked away and Michael heard the attic door close and lock. He trembled with pain, wishing it would go away. His head throbbed, his nose burned, his mouth was still bleeding, every breath he took caused a sharp pain in his chest and his body felt as if it had been trampled by the elephants he'd read about in story books. He'd read somewhere that they were bigger than stagecoaches--of course he'd never seen one of those either.

He hoped Allie and Amelia would stay away. He didn't want them to see him like this. Theodore was right about him, he was pathetic. No woman in her right mind would waste her time on a man like him.  

Michael found it harder and harder to focus on anything other than the pain. His vision swam more and his stomach turned. He whispered Allie's name just before the world went black.  

---

Amelia had a big smile on her face as she bounded up the attic steps. It was a good day. Of course they'd found out that terrible news about Michael being Mrs. Treadwell's son that she'd locked up at the age of two but other than that the day was a good one.  

It was pretty outside, Jacob and Peter were locked in their bedrooms and leaving her alone, she'd managed to swipe an entire sack of cookies from the kitchen and she'd found out that all of the Treadwell's, well all except for Michael, were leaving on an unexpected getaway in less than two hours. They would be catching an evening train and would be gone for two weeks!  

Finally she'd have more time with her sister and more time with Michael without having to sneak around. Maybe she'd actually get to convince Allie that now was a good time to get Michael out of here...if Michael was willing of course.  

Amelia picked the lock and stepped into the dusty attic before closing and locking the door behind her. She took a step forward and frowned when she realized she'd just stepped in something wet on the floor.  

Amelia lifted up her boot and nearly cried out when she realized it was blood. Blood? Why was there blood?

"Michael?" she called out more loudly than she normally would have. "Michael, are you here?"  

Silence greeted her words. A heavy silence that seemed to push down on her from all angles. Michael never ignored her and he wouldn't ignore her now. If he wasn't answering her it was either because he wasn't here or he couldn't, and judging by the blood by the door....

"Michael!" Amelia cried. She ran down the narrow pathways in the attic and rounded the crates that blocked his bed. "Oh no, Michael!" Amelia dropped to her knees beside the bed, the cookies she'd been so happy about fell forgotten to the floor as she pulled back Michael's hood and tears instantly fell down her cheeks at the sight of him.

Amelia couldn't even see details of his face because there was too much blood. She grabbed his thin shoulder and shook him, causing him to groan but his eyes didn't open, "Michael, wake up," Amelia whispered.  

She swallowed hard and swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks to dry her tears, "Michael, you're going to be okay," she whispered more to assure herself than him. "I'm going to go get you help."

It was clear to her that Michael had been beaten. She knew what that looked like because only a few weeks before she and Allie had fled from the orphanage the headmistress had beaten Amelia so badly that she hadn't been able to get out of her bed for days.  

Amelia stood and ran back to the door. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped the pin three times before she finally managed to pick the lock. She locked the door behind her and then ran just as fast as she could to Mrs. Treadwell's bedroom where Allie was packing bags for the trip.  

"Allie! Allie, you have to come quick!" Amelia gasped as she stood there panting.  

Allie frowned and folded the dress in her hands neatly before placing it inside the traveling chest, "What's wrong?"  

"It's Michael. He's hurt real bad. "

Allie's brown eyes went to the door and she looked back at Amelia with a frown, "Don't say his name so loudly. Mrs. Treadwell could walk in any moment."  

"Allie, he's really hurt," Amelia stomped her foot and clenched her fists as tears once again filled her eyes, "His face is bloody and he won't wake up."  

Alarm filled Allie's features and she headed for the door only to be stopped by Mrs. Treadwell, "I need you to finish packing that chest and get it downstairs. Amelia can help you carry it."  

Allie looked at Amelia helplessly and then nodded, "Of course, ma'am."  

"Allie, you need to get up there to him," Amelia urged as the sisters struggled to lift and tug the heavy chest down the grand staircase without scratching up the marble floors.  

"I know," Allie swallowed hard, "Could you tell what was wrong with him?"  

Amelia shook her head, "It just looked like someone had beaten him really bad."  

The anger in Allie's eyes shocked Amelia. She had never seen her sister look murderous but just now that's exactly how she looked, "I cannot wait until these people are gone. I will get Michael out of that attic, out of this house, and he will never step foot in here again."

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Allie stepped into the attic and peered through the darkness. The attic was always quiet but just now it was silent--far too silent. The family had gone away on their trip and Allie was thankful because it meant she could finally see to Michael...she simply prayed she wasn't too late. The last couple of hours had been the longest of her life as she had chewed her fingernails to nubs waiting on them to leave.  

"Don't step in that blood," Amelia warned, snapping Allie from her thoughts. Her eyes widened when she saw the dark puddle of it on the floor beside their feet. Allie swallowed hard and felt her fists clench with the desire to hurt someone badly and avenge this wrong.

 "He was in his bed," Amelia added in a whisper.  

Allie nodded and headed that way. She hadn't brought a light along because she had known that she and Amelia would need both their hands in order to carry Michael out of here.  

Allie came to the bed and instantly she dropped to her knees. Tears filled her eyes as she took in the sight of Michael's blood covered face in the darkness. Pain gripped her heart so tightly that she thought for a moment she might collapse from the intensity of it.  

"I told you it was bad," Amelia whispered, "How could anyone do this to him?"  

Allie had no answer and so she simply squeezed her sister's hand. She reached down and moved a bit of blood stiffened hair from Michael's face, "He's going to be okay now, Amelia. I won't let a single person lay hands on him again."  

Allie stood up, "We're going to have to try to carry him the best we can to our bedroom. I won't have him recovering up here in this dark, dirty attic."  

"But won't he be scared when he wakes up and he's not in the attic anymore?" Amelia questioned.  

"It's better he be a little scared while warm, safe and alive, than be secure but dead," Allie stated. "This has to end. I would have liked to have given him time to make this step on his own but we have to take the opportunity that's been presented us. Now we can't talk about this anymore. We have to get him out of here, clean him up and figure out just how badly he's hurt."  

Amelia nodded and the sisters positioned themselves on either end of Michael. Allie looped her arms under his arms and hoisted him up while Amelia lifted his legs. Michael groaned with pain and Allie swore she could feel the pain herself. She kissed his brow tenderly in an attempt to soothe him before starting toward the attic door.  

It was a complicated and difficult process to maneuver his body through the mess and down the stairs. Several times Allie was certain they were going to drop him or fall themselves. They were covered in sweat and both of them were panting by the time they reached their bedroom and laid Michael gently upon the bed.  

He looked so out of place covered in blood, dirt and dust with his worn and tattered clothes lying upon the immaculate floral bedspread with so much wealth and fanciness surrounding him.  

Allie went about removing his cloak and let out a slow breath. "Amelia, I need to check his injuries. I need you to go down to the kitchen and put a bucket of water on the stove to heat. It doesn't need to be boiling but I need it warm and bring up several rags and towels as well."  

Without a word, Amelia ran from the room. Allie knew the only person that might question her would be Tessa but Allie wasn't worried about what she would think. Clearly she had known about Michael but had chosen to do nothing. In Allie's eyes that made the other maid a monster just like the other Treadwell's.  

Allie would protect Michael from here on. She would not let another thing like this happen to him. When Allie set her mind to protect someone, she protected them. She had seen her sister beaten almost this badly once and the headmistress who had given the beating was now resting six feet in the ground just like their mother and father.....

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Allie again focused her attention on Michael. She had to make sure that nothing was broken. Allie pulled his shirt from his pants and raised up the tattered fabric. His skin was red and already bruising quite badly along his stomach and ribs. Allie wondered what he'd been beaten with because it seemed too severe to have simply been fists.

Tears filled her eyes as she felt his ribs for breaks. His body was so weak and malnourished and that was after putting on a little weight from the good food Allie had ensured he'd had all week. Why would anyone do this to such a kind and gentle soul? Allie simply didn't understand.  

The blood on his face was mostly dried, hard and sticky. It had clearly been a while since he'd been attacked and then he'd simply been left up there all alone to suffer. Allie ran her fingertips gingerly over his deformed brow, "I'm never going to let something like this happen to you again, Michael. You can count on me. I might not look like much but I protect those I care about with everything I have."  

Time seemed to crawl and Allie was beginning to grow impatient when Amelia came through the door hauling a bucket of water with rags tucked under her arm, "Tessa asked what I needed it for so I told her that we were scrubbing our room clean." Amelia said with a grunt as she sat the bucket beside the bed.  

Allie nodded, stood and went to the door. She glanced in the hallway to find that it was empty and then she closed the door and locked it just to ensure no one would come walking in. Yes, she was getting Michael out of this house but she would just as soon not have to explain herself to anyone just yet. At least not until Michael was conscious.

Taking her time, Allie cleaned the blood from Michael's face. His nose was red and tender looking, his bottom lip was split and swollen and the skin around his right eye, the one shadowed by his deformed brow and cheek was a nice shade of blue and purple. His hair was still bloody but it would have to wait until he was awake and could take a bath.  

Amelia gasped when she saw the state of Michael's stomach and ribs which were mottled with purple, red and blue. Allie didn't remove Michael's pants to check his legs but she did run her hands up and down them simply to ensure that none of his bones were broken.  

"Who do you think did this to him?" Amelia whispered.  

"I don't know," Allie replied tightly, "But I intend to find out." She saw Amelia yawn and glanced at the clock to see that it was nearing eleven at night, "I'll have to make you a bed in the floor for tonight," Allie told her as she walked to the wardrobe and pulled out two extra blankets.

 Allie spread one of the blankets out on the floor and motioned for Amelia to lie down as the tired girl slid into her sleeping gown, "Where are you sleeping?" Amelia asked with a grin.  

"I'm going to sleep on the bed," Allie replied with a roll of her eyes. "I don't want Michael to wake up in that bed and be scared of the surroundings while thinking he's alone."  

"You love him don't you?" Amelia questioned as she settled herself upon the blanket.  

Allie snorted and tossed one of the bed pillows on her head, "My emotions are nothing for you to worry about," she scolded. "Now sleep because very soon we won't have such comfortable blankets and pillows against our skin at night."

"Are we really going to leave here and take Michael with us?" Amelia whispered as Allie turned off the lamps.  

"Yes, we are. I won't let him be mistreated like this any longer."  

"Goodnight, Allie."  

"Goodnight."  

Allie climbed in the bed and curled up to Michael, careful not to put too much pressure on his battered body. She pulled a clean blanket over them and swallowed hard. This felt different than laying with him in the attic. This was a real bed in a real bedroom. Memories of her father flashed in her mind and fear seized her heart.  

Just when she was certain that her racing pulse would kill her and she was moments from bursting from the bed, Michael's arm gently circled her waist and he moaned in pain before pulling her closer.  

Allie glanced up at his face and saw he hadn't woken up, he had merely recognized her presence and she felt her tension ease. This was Michael and he would not hurt her. He was nothing like other men she'd known before.  

Satisfied with her newfound comfort, Allie snuggled up to Michael, listened to his heart and let the steady beat beneath her ear lull her to sleep.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

*TICK TOCK. TICK TOCK*

The strange sound filled Michael's ears causing him to frown. It felt as if his eyes were nailed shut as he struggled to open them. After several moment he realized it was useless and ceased his struggle. Instead, Michael used his other senses to take in his surroundings.  

In addition to the strange sound he could hear, the attic smelled different as well. He couldn't smell the dust and the dirt that he'd grown accustomed to smelling. The bed felt softer--a lot softer.  

There was only one thing that seemed familiar and that was the body curled up against him and the head resting on his chest. Without opening his eyes he knew it was Allie. But why was his body hurting so badly? His face ached, his head throbbed and every time he took a breath the pain in his ribs was nearly unbearable.  

"Michael," Allie's angelic voice filled his ears, "I can tell you're waking up but please don't open your eyes yet. I need to explain something to you..."  

As if her words were what his struggling eyes had been waiting on they flew open and Michael felt his heart seize with fear.  

Where was he? This wasn't his attic. The walls around him were all pinks and greens and the furniture was polished and shining. Where was he and why wasn't he in his attic?  

Michael tried to raise up but the pain in his body and Allie's gentle but firm hands upon his shoulders held him down to the bed. Michael looked up at her frantically, staring into her soft brown eyes, "I n...need to b..be in the attic!" he pleaded. "Ma'am... will be angry."  

Allie shook her hand and Michael felt his panic mounting. Didn't she understand? Didn't she know how angry Ma'am would be? How scared he was? This wasn't his attic and that thought alone terrified him. The attic was home and all he'd known for his entire life.  

The amount of fear welling up inside his heart began to overwhelm him. Michael began to fight against Allie, desperate to slip out of her hold and go back to his home. The pain in his body was intense but his terror outweighed it. He was blinded to all else other than the undeniable, all-consuming need to get back to the attic.  

"Michael!" Allie exclaimed as she fought to hold him down on the bed. "Michael, stop this! Ma'am is not here. She's gone, the whole family is. You're safe, Michael! I won't let those people do anything else to you, I swear it."  

Michael was past reasoning. He cried out, yelled, kicked and tried desperately to pull away. Suddenly Allie's lips were on his brow and Michael froze.  

His body reacted to her lips on his skin in a way that surprised and confused him. He knew a little about desire and what happened between a man and a woman thanks to books but he had never imagined he'd feel that heat they talked about. He felt it now.....

Allie pulled away and Michael found himself trapped in her eyes, "Michael, you're scaring Amelia, you must calm down. Will you stop fighting and listen to me now?"  

Michael nodded slowly. He had already stopped fighting and was simply staring at her with wonder. He had already known that she was special but now... His Allie, his angel, was his one love just like the poets wrote about.  

Michael nearly laughed out loud at his own foolish thoughts. A woman like Allie would never fall in love with a man like him. No woman would fall in love with a man like him. He was ugly, deformed; a monster. He was weak and pathetic enough that two boys with sticks had bested him. He remembered now. He remembered the pain, the fear, the humiliation when Theodore had scorned him.  

"Michael, are you listening?" Allie asked gently.  

Michael snapped from his thoughts and saw that she had moved and was sitting sideways on the edge of the bed and watching him with concern, "Yes, I'm listening," he whispered. "But Ma'am will b..be mad. The attic..."  

"Is not your home anymore."  

Michael turned his head from where he still lay upon the bed and saw Amelia sitting up on a makeshift bed upon the floor. Her freckled face was pale and her brown eyes were wide. He had scared her when he'd been panicking with fear and he was sorry for that.  

"The attic is h..home," he countered.  

"No it's not," Allie's tone let him know that she was growing impatient and angry. He frowned because he never wanted her to be angry at him. "That attic is not fit to be anyone's home, Michael, and you'll not go back there."  

"But Ma'am will..."  

"Stop calling her that. She doesn't deserve the respect that comes with that name," Allie warned. Michael nodded and Allie smoothed out her ruffled brown hair and took his hand in hers gently, "They are gone on a trip for two weeks. Theodore, Mrs. Treadwell, Mr. Treadwell, Jacob, Peter, they are all gone from the house."  

Michael winced at the mention of Jacob and Peter and it was clear that Allie noticed, "Amelia, can you go to the kitchen and see if there is anything for breakfast? I'm sure Michael is hungry and so am I."  

"But Allie..." Amelia whimpered.  

"Now, please. You'll have plenty of time to talk to Michael later."  

Amelia rolled her eyes but stood up and left the room to do her sister's bidding. Allie turned her gaze back to Michael as he struggled to sit up despite his pain, "Who did this to you?" she questioned sadly.  

"That's not im...important," Michael quickly replied, wincing as he tried to sit up again and the pain nearly overwhelmed him. His stomach rolled and he worried he would soil the fancy bedding... he could only imagine the way Ma'am would punish him for that.

"It's important to me," Allie countered as she stood up. She helped Michael to sit up and lean against the headboard and he noticed that she winced every time he did almost as if she could feel his pain. He wished she would kiss him again. He had enjoyed that. "Tell me, Michael. Who did this to you?"  

"I was pathetic," Michael replied quietly, turning his gaze away from her. He didn't want Allie to see him like this. How many times had she seen him hit and scolded and never defending himself?  

"Are you going to answer me or must I get mad?" Allie asked, her brown eyes sparkling with that goodness that seemed to always shine out of them.  

"It was the boys," Michael finally admitted. He could trust Allie with the truth. He believed that she wouldn't laugh at him for being so weak.  

"The boys?" Allie questioned, her voice tight.  

"Peter and Jacob. W..why did they? I had never m..met them."  

"You didn't do anything to deserve this, I promise you," Allie assured him as her eyes became rimmed with red. She stood up and walked to the door, "You stay here and rest, Michael. I'll go see what's taking Amelia so long and see about getting you a proper bath."  

Before Michael could reply Allie was gone and she closed the door behind her. Michael stared around the unfamiliar room and swallowed hard. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it over himself, leaving only his nose and eyes and uncovered. He sat there trembling and simply hoping that Allie or Amelia would come back soon.  

---

Allie took a few steps down the hall before wrapping her arms around herself, pressing her back to the wall and allowing the tears she'd been fighting to fall from her eyes. To see Michael so scared, weak, hurt, sad and confused was more than she could take without falling apart a little herself.  

Why did those boys hurt him? What would make two children who, according to Michael, had never met him, suddenly go into the attic and beat him so mercilessly? And why in the world hadn't Michael done anything to protect himself?

"Allie, what's wrong?" Amelia's voice broke through her tears, "Is something wrong with Michael?"  

"He's okay," Allie assured the wide-eyed girl as she swiped her hands over her tear stained cheeks.  

"Why are you crying?" Amelia questioned sadly. "You don't ever cry."  

Allie felt guilty for letting Amelia see her tears. She didn't need to add any stress or worry to the girl's life, "I just hate seeing Michael in so much pain, that's all."  

"Me too," Amelia agreed. She held up a sack, "There wasn't much for breakfast but I did find some muffins left over from yesterdays breakfast."

Allie dried up the last of her tears and smiled at her sister, "Those will work just fine. Why don't you go in there and eat some with Michael while I see to getting him some water for a bath?"

"Okay... Allie, are you sure you're okay? You can be not okay if you need to be," Amelia assured her.  

Allie laid a gentle hand on Amelia's freckled cheek, "I'm okay, I promise."  

Amelia nodded and Allie waited until she was in the room before she continued down the hall. She made her way down the stairs to the first floor and walked into the kitchen to collect two water buckets only to find Tessa  preparing eggs.  

"Good morning, child," Tessa greeted.  

"Good morning," Allie forced herself to reply.  

Concern filled Tessa's brown eyes, "Are ya okay, suga'? Ya look like you've been cryin'."  

"I'm just fine. I'm going to get some water and fill our tub upstairs for a bath."  

"Might as well do all the relaxin' ya can," Tessa agreed. "Two weeks without them home will turn us lazy I have a feelin'."

Allie nodded in response, grabbed the buckets and left the kitchen, slipping out the back door and heading toward the water spigot. She pumped several times and then the water bubbled within the pipe and came out with a gurgling splash.  

She filled both buckets and then carried them inside and up to the room before repeating the process with two more buckets. She was on her way to the bedroom with the third and fourth bucket of water when she saw Tessa at the attic steps with the slop bucket in her hand.  


Anger filled Allie, coursing through her veins like a fiery venom, "What are you doing?" she snapped.  

Tessa nearly fell as she let out a cry of fear and spun around, covering her heart with her hand, "Ya scared me, suga'."  

"Answer me," Allie insisted. "Where are you going with the pig slop?"  

"I'm just doing what Mrs. Treadwell told me to do," Tessa replied tightly, "It ain't no concern of yours."  

"Yes it is. Michael is very much a concern of mine."  

Tessa's dark skin paled slightly. Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened and closed several times, "How do you know that name?"  

Allie took several steps closer to the other woman, water sloshing over the edges of her buckets and splashing against the floor, "The man locked in the attic told me himself that that is his name. Tell me, Tessa, have you always know that the boy didn't die or did you discover him for yourself later?"  

"You'll hush, child!" Tessa scolded, fear evident in her voice, "You do not know of what you speak! Mrs. Treadwell will not be pleased..."  

Allie laughed harshly, "Let me tell you something, Tessa," she said, her voice low and cold. "I am no more afraid of that woman than I am of you. Michael is no longer in that attic and soon he will no longer be in this house. I am getting him away from here and away from the monsters that have trapped him and locked him away for far too long."  

"You can't do that," Tessa warned. "You don't understand..."  

"No, you don't understand," Allie snapped, shaking Tessa's hand off of her arm when the woman tried to grab her. "No one deserves what they did to him and as far as I'm concerned you are no better than they are. Me, my sister and Michael will be gone from here before the Treadwell's return and you would do well to stay out of my way and not try to stop me."

"Mrs. Treadwell will not be happy...." Tessa whispered, clutching at her apron.  

"I care not for her happiness," Allie replied. "My only concern is Michael. And I will tell you this, I am not as weak as I seem. I have killed before to protect those I love and I will do it again if necessary. Bare that in mind before you attempt to get in my way."  

Tessa took several staggering steps back and shook her head. Allie waited for her to speak but she remained silent and simply stared at Allie with shock. With a roll of her eyes, Allie swept past Tessa and continued to her room with the water, eager to allow Michael to wash the dirt, dust and blood away. It would be the first step to getting his new life started.

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

"It's hot," Michael stated as he stared at the tub of steaming water. It had taken both Allie and Amelia working together to move the large tub from Mrs. Treadwell's room into this one but finally they'd accomplished it and filled it with plenty of hot water.  

"Yes, baths are hot," Amelia replied.  

"When you're lucky," Allie added.  She turned to Amelia, "Why don't you go on down to the library and wait on me? I'll help Michael get into his bath and I'll be down in shortly."  

Amelia grinned mischievously and folded her hands behind her back as she walked to the door, "Suuure, I'll leave the two of you alone for a while."  

Allie shook her head, "Honestly, Amelia!" Amelia laughed and quickly slipped from the room.

Allie turned her attention back to Michael who was still sitting up on the bed and staring at the steaming water of his bath, "Haven't you had a hot bath before?" Allie asked softly, hating that she already knew the answer.  

"No," Michael turned his gaze to her and she felt her breath catch as those deep blue eyes met hers, "Ma'am or Th..Theodore gave me cold water in a bucket."  

"Theodore knew you were in the attic?" Allie questioned, her spine stiffening. Michael said nothing in response, he simply nodded and attempted to put his legs over the bed only to groan in pain.

Allie forced herself to swallow back her anger at learning that Theodore truly was no better than she had thought him to be. She had to focus on Michael now and getting him better so they could leave this horrible place.  

"Let me help you up, Michael," Allie insisted, rushing toward him. She put her arms and under his and both of them grunted as she helped to hoist him out of bed. She noticed that his legs were shaking and sweat slicked his brow, "Are you in a lot of pain?"  

"I'm okay," Michael's voice was strained as he stood there stooped backed. Allie wondered just how tall he would be if he could stand straight. Already he was the same height as her so she guessed he would be close to six feet tall if not an inch or two taller.   

 Allie kissed his brow tenderly, "The bath will help relieve some of the soreness but I will brew you some tea after as well."  

Michael didn't respond and Allie assumed it was from the amount of pain he was in, "I'll leave you to undress," she said quickly, pulling herself away from him and attempting desperately to ignore her urge to press her lips to his.  

Allie started for the door and heard Michael let out an impatient groan. Turning back she realized he was fumbling with the buttons and the swollen knuckles on his right hand were leaving him unable to undo even a single one.  

"Do you need help?" she asked with a smile.  

Michael seemed completely miserable as he dropped his hands with defeat and nodded. Allie took a moment to simply gaze at him. His lip was swollen and cut, his jaw bruised and his disfigured brow had a gash across it and a nice purple shade to the skin covering it. His long black hair was stiff with blood and tangled terribly and stubble covered his jaw. His blue eyes were sad and hazed with pain and his skin was pale and sallow.  

Allie would do anything and everything within her power to save this man, to help him, to heal his body and his spirit. Society might say he was ugly or a 

monster but society had a tendency to be very wrong about many things and Michael was one of those things about which they were mistaken.

Allie crossed the room to him and began to undo the buttons on his stained and tattered shirt. She was surprised to find that her hands shook and she licked her lips nervously. Why was she feeling this way?  

She met Michael's blue eyes and saw the uncertainty but beneath that she saw something else. Something that caused her hands to freeze on the fourth button down. It was something she had never truly seen in a man's eyes before. It was different from the drunken lust that had been in her father's eyes, different from the smug lustful way that Theodore tended to gaze upon her.  

There was a gentleness to the want in Michael's eyes; a softness in the desire that she could see there and Allie found her own body, and her heart responding. Allie quickly shook her head, undid the last few buttons of his shirt and took a large step back. Nothing about what she was feeling made any sense to her because she had never in her life felt these urges and wants before.  

What was it about Michael that made her crave to be held in his arms? What was it about his heartbeat that she found so soothing beneath her ear at night? What was it about his touch that sent her heart racing while somehow filling her with peace all at the same time? What was it about his eyes that captivated her? What was it about his lips that made her long to kiss them?

Glancing down at his bare torso, it was easy for Allie to forget her own confusion for a moment. The bruising appeared worse this morning than it had last night. The skin around his ribs and across his stomach was mottled with bruising as were his arms. Anger at those monster children quickly replaced any other emotions Allie had been feeling.  

"Does it hurt when you breathe, Michael?" she asked quietly.  

Michael nodded slowly as he laid his gnarled hand over his ribs, "Yes."  

"I checked your ribs last night and they aren't broken," Allie assured him. "But I would say they are bruised and will probably hurt you for a while. The bath might help give you a bit of relief even if only while you're in it."  

"Th..thank you," Michael tipped his head and a blush covered his cheeks, "Thank you for caring."

Allie stepped back to him, put her hand on his cheek and tilted his head back up so he was looking at her, "Of course I care." Without her telling it to, Allie's thumb gently traced Michael's cut and swollen bottom lip.  

She heard his sharp intake of breath and saw his eyes widen. Quickly she distanced herself once again, "Can you undress the rest of the way or do you need more help?" she asked, not meeting his gaze.  

"I can," Michael whispered.  

Allie nodded and then swiftly made her escape. Michael, and the feelings he brought to life inside of her, confused her greatly. For so long Allie's life had only been survival and it still was but Michael made her wonder about something more. He opened her mind to the idea of love, romance and companionship and that frightened her badly. Allie didn't want to depend on or need anyone else--she truly didn't know how; it was a luxury that had never been afforded to her.  

Deciding that dwelling these thoughts was not going to accomplish anything, Allie pushed them from her mind and headed downstairs. She had promised to meet Amelia in the library and she needed to check on Tessa and ensure the woman wasn't doing anything that she wouldn't live to regret.  

---

Allie felt her mouth water as she pulled the succulent ham from the oven. Mrs. Treadwell had left a list of what she, Amelia and Tessa were allowed to eat in her absence and this ham certainly hadn't been on it. Allie didn't care. Rules given by a person who did nothing to earn respect did not need to be adhered to.  

Allie could imagine the way that Michael's eyes would light up when he bit into the cooked ham and it caused her to fill with excitement. It was approaching evening and while Michael had not left the bedroom all day, at least he was out of the attic.  

Allie knew it would take time before he felt brave and secure enough to explore the house and eventually the outside. They had two weeks to get him ready--it would be a push but Allie was confident they would be long gone before the Treadwell's returned home. Allie would not let those people do any more damage to Michael than they already had. 	

As she went about mashing the potatoes, Allie wondered what Amelia and Michael were up to in the room. Michael had been very quiet all day as he had sat on the bed with a blanket curled around him and seemed to be waiting for something terrible to happen. Allie knew he was uncomfortable because the surroundings were different but she would make him adjust; there was no going back to that attic.  

 Allie heard footsteps enter as she was adding a bit more cream to her potatoes. She turned her head and realized that Tessa was now standing in the doorway. Her large brown eyes widened a bit more under Allie's gaze and then her shaking hands began to fiddle with her stark white apron.  

Allie rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her potatoes, "Is there something you'd like to say, Tessa?" she questioned tightly.  

Allie had realized the moment she'd stopped speaking earlier that she had spouted off a bit more information than she should have in her anger. She never should have told the woman that she had killed before. Allie wondered just what Tessa thought of her now--though she didn't truly care. Tessa didn't know who she had killed or where she had come here from. Allie didn't make a habit of talking about her past.

"I feel we should talk, suga'," Tessa replied quietly.  

Allie bristled at being called 'suga'. It was a friendly and kind address and Allie wasn't feeling either of those things toward Tessa just now. "You talk. I'm busy making supper."  

"Well alright then." Tessa moved toward the window and glanced out of it. "It's true that I knew Michael was in that attic. I knew he was there and that he wasn't dead. I am one of the few that knows the truth. Allie, there are things you don't know about this family. Things they'll do anything to keep hidden."

"Michael is not some dirty little secret to be locked away, Tessa!" Allie countered, stirring with a bit more gusto. "He is a man with feelings and emotions and he's been treated worse than an animal by these people--and by you."  

"Now I'm not sayin' it's right that that boy was locked in that attic," Tessa quickly shot back, her voice raising a bit, "But it's better than him bein' dead isn't it, child?"  

Allie paused in her stirring and glanced at the woman, "What do you mean, better than dead?"  

Tessa swallowed hard and sighed, "Had he not gone into that attic with Harriot when he did his mama would have killed him for sure."  

"Killed him?" Allie demanded her hand tightening painfully on the wooden spoon.  

"Yes, suga'. Ya see, Mrs. Treadwell lost her mind after having Michael..." Tessa paused. "Ya know that scar on his cheek?"  

"Yes," Allie ground out between her clenched jaws.  

"That woman put that there when he was nothing' but a babe. Do ya believe that, child?"

Allie put down her spoon and stepped away from the counter, wiping her hands on her apron and motioning toward the stools beside the large island, "Sit down, Tessa. I believe we may have something to talk about after all."

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

"Michael, you have to hold still or I'll never get it cut straight!" Amelia scolded testily as she held the scissors in her hand and sat on the bed behind him.   

"Sorry," Michael mumbled, attempting to adjust his bad leg on the floor and ease a bit of the pain. Sitting on his backside on the hard floor was hurting his battered body terribly but he didn't want to complain to Amelia; not when she was helping him. It seemed Amelia had an idea to make him more attractive for Allie.  

While Michael had blushed furiously and not known how to respond to that when it had come bursting from the girl's mouth, Amelia seemed certain of her abilities. Michael knew he was a monster and would never be seen as attractive but he wanted to amuse Amelia's wishes because he truly liked the girl and didn't want to let her down.  

"Now hold still and I'll cut your hair a bit, but not too much. I think it looks good with some length to it. I just have to cut off all the dead inches at the bottom and then we'll try to get it combed out some."  

Michael hadn't had his hair cut or combed since he'd been a little boy and Harriot had done it for him. He did his best to sit very still but nearly jumped and ruined his valiant efforts when he heard the snipping of the scissors and felt the slight tug at the back of his dark hair.  

"The first cut has been done, now hold still or it'll be all crooked," Amelia warned.  

Michael nodded, which earned him a frustrated grumble from Amelia and he found himself laughing quietly as he held as still as possible. Amelia made short work of the hair cut and when she was done, Michael reached back and realized that his hair fell only to his shoulders now instead of hanging down his back in a tangled mess.  

"Much better," Amelia beamed. "I used to watch Allie cut girl's hair at the orphanage and I don't think I did half bad doing it on my own for the first time. Now I just have to comb this mess out...."  

Michael whimpered in pain when Amelia dragged a comb through his tangled hair. Amelia hugged his neck from behind, "I'm sorry, Michael. I know it's going to hurt but you'll feel so much better once it's done."  

Michael nodded and bit his tongue and Amelia went about her task. In an attempt to block out the pain that the girl was inflicting on his already battered head, Michael pictured Allie's face in his mind. He pictured the way her brown eyes had looked so deeply into his earlier and the way her thumb had traced his lip... his insides seemed to tangle up and his palms grew sweaty.  

He couldn't help but wonder if Allie felt any of the same things that he did when they were together.  

"And I'm done!" Amelia leapt from the bed and came around him, beaming with pride. "I did good!"  

Michael ran his hand over his hair and was pleasantly surprised. It felt softer and smoother than he'd ever felt it before. It was still a bit damp from his bath but he could tell that she had gotten out all the knots and tangles and it seemed lighter on his head.  

"Thank you," he whispered, a smile pulling on his own lips.  

Amelia went to the large mirror in the corner of the room, "Come look"  

"No!" Michael quickly shook his head.  

Amelia's brow screwed up as she tilted her head, "Why not? Just come look so you can see how good it is."  

Michael didn't want to see himself. He had long ago done away with every mirror in the attic and he was in no hurry to be reminded of just what a monster looked like.  

"Come on," she urged again and she began to turn the mirror. Michael quickly hid his head beneath the blanket he'd kept wrapped around his tattered clothes. He heard her sigh, "Okay, okay." the sound of fabric rustling about reached his ears. "You can take the blanket off your head now, Michael. I covered the mirror."  

Michael slowly opened one eye, squinting in the direction of the mirror to ensure that it was indeed covered, "Thank you," he whispered.  

Amelia waved her hand, "Yeah, yeah." She carried a towel to the window and dumped out the hair she'd had wrapped inside it. Then she turned and studied him sitting there on the floor.  

"You still seem to be needing something. You can't go about wooing anyone like that."  

"Wooing?"  

Amelia heaved a great sigh and Michael got the impression that she was growing exasperated with him. That was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want her to be annoyed by him and hate him the way nearly everyone else he knew was.  "Don't you know what wooing is?" she demanded.  

Michael pushed himself off the floor and stood, "Yes. Who am I w..wooing?"

"My sister, of course," Amelia went to the door, "I'll go find some clothes that aren't ripped or stained. Be right back," with that she dashed away.  

Michael stood there on shaking knees long after she had gone. Wooing her sister? New clothes? And once again he was alone in this new and strange room. Quickly Michael went to the bed and sat down upon it, putting his back against the wall so he could face the door.

 He was happy that the tea Allie had given him had helped him to dull some of the pain in his body and he knew she was going to give him an extra dose after dinner. He wondered what would happen though once Ma'am came back. He knew he'd be right back in the attic again and Allie and Amelia would be...Michael swallowed hard and shook his head; he refused to think about a life without Allie and Amelia in it.  

Michael stood slowly and dragged his leg behind him as he went to the small table beside what Amelia had told him was a dressing screen. He grabbed up a razor with a wooden handle and carried it over to the wall. Michael loved to draw and carve. He thought about a book he'd read as a child, a book about dragons, princess and knights in shining armor and began to carve those mental images into the wood with his right hand, which wasn't swollen nearly has badly as it had been before Allie had given him that ointment to treat the joints.  

The carving soothed his nerves and calmed his thoughts. It sent him into a trancelike state that he found comforting.  

"What are you doing?" Amelia gasped from behind him.  

Michael spun quickly and the razor fell to the ground when he saw the disapproval and shock on her face, "Drawing," came his simple reply.  

"No, no, no! You can't do that!" Amelia raced forward, dropping the clothes she had in her arms to the bed before coming to stand beside him. Her eyes went over the carving and she bit her lip, "Those are actually pretty good."  

Michael flushed and dropped his gaze, "Thank you."  

Amelia smiled and pointed at the clothes she'd tossed on the bed, "I brought you some clothes, and a belt because I'm sure the pants will be a little too big. I'll wait out in the hall so just knock on the door when you're done."  

Michael watched her walk out and sighed. He slowly and painfully managed to undo the buttons on his shirt and slip from his tattered pants. His eyes widened as he held up the crisp white button down that Amelia had found for him. Never in his life had he worn a shirt so clean and new.  

As he slid into his new clothes and ran a hand over his shorter, smoother hair, Michael couldn't help but wonder what Allie would think about the change in his appearance and as he did he felt a fluttering sensation fill his middle.  

---

Allie carried the large platter full of three plates of food toward the bedroom but her mind was not on her task. Instead her mind was on the conversation she had just shared with Tessa.  

It seemed Mrs. Treadwell had once been a normal, albeit snobbish woman, who spoiled her first son, Theodore, rotten. She'd been well-known socially, beautiful and her family, her life, had been seen as perfect.  

All that had changed with the birth of Michael Treadwell. It had been clear from the beginning that Michael was not like most children. His face had been misshapen from birth and therefore Mr. Treadwell had refused to have anything to do with the child.  

Mrs. Treadwell had changed drastically over the following weeks. She had begun crying for hours at a time and when she hadn't been crying she had oftentimes simply been sitting and staring hard at the wall. She stopped speaking to anyone and wouldn't even leave her room to eat. Theodore, who had only been two at the time, ended up spending all his time with his father and Mrs. Treadwell only saw Michael when it was necessary to feed him, leaving the rest of his care to his nanny, Harriot.  

At first everyone had hoped that it was simply the typical melancholy that sometimes struck a woman after childbirth, but, as time passed and her behavior became more aggressive, erratic and unpredictable everyone began to have their doubts. When Michael was trying to learn to walk it became clear that his hip was deformed and the hatred his mother had for the babe seemed to grow.  

Then had come the day when she had overheard some ladies in town laughing about the ugly Treadwell child  and it had sent Mrs. Treadwell over the edge. Mr. Treadwell had rushed into their bedroom when he had heard the two year old boy screaming and wailing only to find his wife with a butcher's knife in her hand, slicing open the skin on his deformed brow and cheek.  

He had rushed forward, taken control of the blade and tossed it away before taking Michael into his arms and then throwing him at Harriot who had also come rushing into the room just behind him. Mrs. Treadwell began rocking back and forth in the chair, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the wall and repeated, "I need to fix him", over and over again.  

It had been then that Mr. Treadwell had ordered Harriot to take Michael to the attic. He faked the child's death to explain why his wife remained locked in her room for nearly two full years after the incident and why no one would ever see Michael again. It seemed Mr. Treadwell cared more about his reputation and preserving the perfect image of his family than he did getting his wife the help she truly needed or seeing that his son had any sort of life.  

Mrs. Treadwell had never fully recovered and become the woman she had once been. Drinking was the only medicine that she had found and so Mr. Treadwell kept her well supplied. A decade later when Jacob had been born healthy and without the deformities that had marred his brother Mrs. Treadwell had been overjoyed. Jacob and Peter had been spoiled and pampered by their mother as she attempted to make up for the wrongs of her past. And her current treatment of Michael, according to Tessa, was born out of the hatred, rage, sadness and guilt she felt over who she had become after his birth.  

Allie had asked Tessa about Michael's back and how it hunched and stooped. Tessa had replied by explaining that his back had been just fine until around the age of thirteen when he became too tall to stand properly in the low attic. He'd spent the last seven years having to hunch over to walk and it had caused the disfigurement. It was one more thing Allie hoped she might be able to heal given enough time.  

Instead of being satisfied at hearing the full story of why Michael had been kept locked away, Allie simply felt more angry and confused than before. She simply didn't understand it.  

How could mothers and fathers be so cold and cruel toward their own children?  

Her parents had not been much better than Michael's and it simply did not seem fair that some children were loved and doted on by those that created them and some were locked away, beaten, starved or forced to work much harder than other children and have their father touching them....

Allie shook her head to clear her thoughts. Dwelling on her own past would do no good. Her mother had been cold and hateful but she was dead. Her father had been a drunkard and he had done unforgivable things to her when she'd been little more than a small child but he was dead as well.

The future was still uncertain and scary but it was a bit brighter now that Michael was free from the attic and with her and Amelia. Allie knew she wouldn't regret taking on his care. His smile, his warmth, his innocence and his goodness were things that she needed--things that she had lost a very long time ago.  

Allie didn't have a free hand to open the bedroom door with when she arrived so she kicked it once with her foot, "Amelia, I have supper."  

"Just a moment!" Amelia called back. Allie stood there somewhat impatiently as she waited for the door to be opened. The platter she held as well as the jug of tea was becoming quite heavy and tedious to hold.  

She was about to kick the door once more when it was quite suddenly thrown open and she found herself looking down at her sister as the girl grinned from ear to ear, "What have you been up to?" Allie questioned suspiciously.  

Amelia stepped back and motioned into the room, "Come on in and see for yourself."  

Slowly Allie stepped inside and her eyes widened when she caught sight of Michael. It was clear he was nervous and unsure of himself as he stood there beside the bed but Allie couldn't believe the change in his appearance!  

It was clear that Amelia had been very busy while Allie had been cooking and talking with Tessa. Michael's hair which earlier had been knotted terribly and hanging down his back was now smooth and fell only to his shoulders. His pale skin was clean and his clothes, which Amelia must have taken from someone else's room were much better than the tattered, ripped and stained ones he'd been wearing before.  

"Amelia, I hope you haven't been a bother to Michael! He was supposed to be resting."  

"Doesn't he look handsome?" Amelia urged.  

Allie didn't have to lie. Her answer to that question would have been the same over a week ago when she had first met the man, "Of course he does."  

The lopsided smile that lit up Michael's face had Allie's heart pounding a million beats per minute against her ribs, "Are you all hungry?" she asked quickly, holding up the platter in her hands, desperate to ignore the feelings stirring within her. Nothing good could ever come from those types of feelings, "I brought supper."  

The trio settled down to eat and when Michael bit into the honey baked ham his eyes widened and he let out a moan borne of both satisfaction and disbelief, "This is good!"  

"You say that every time I bring you food," Allie teased, unable to keep herself from beaming at the compliment.  

"It is t..true every time," Michael countered, smiling when she blushed. "You are an angel, Allie."  

Amelia giggled and appeared quite smug behind her biscuit but Allie simply shook her head; she was no angel. She motioned toward his plate, "You had better eat while it's warm, Michael."

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Daylight shining against her face roused Allie from her dreams. The subject of her dreams eluded her now but she had a smile on her lips and the remnants of happiness lit up her heart; they had been good dreams.   

In the past waking up from good dreams would have made facing reality a letdown but this morning was different.... Allie was wrapped up tight in the arms of an amazing man. His warmth was enveloping her and his breath was teasing her hair.  

Allie had never in her life been the type of person who thought about love, marriage or forever; hell every single moment of her life so far had merely been about staying alive to see the next moment, but Michael made her wonder.....

Was it possible that she could fall in love? That someone could love her in return?  

Allie snuggled closer and listened to the steady beat of Michael's heart. The way he looked at her couldn't be denied but was it truly love or was it simply gratitude? Did he feel those things for her simply because she was the first woman to ever show him kindness? And how badly would her heart shatter apart were she to get him away from this place only to find that it had not been love at all and he found himself wanting someone else once he realized the entire world was not like his family?  

 Allie sighed. She was better off not thinking about it. All she needed to focus on was getting him healed and convincing him to leave this house and come with her and Amelia--even though she had no idea where the three of them would go. Everything else would take care of itself and simply get in her way if she chose to dwell on it.  

Her good mood thoroughly dashed by her waking thoughts and doubts, Allie slid from the bed. She wrapped her robe around herself and stepped to the window. The sunlight streamed through the panes of glass and Allie let herself soak in their warmth. It was going to be a beautiful day.

A rustling of sheets behind her had Allie turning her head and she saw Michael wincing as he threw his legs over the edge of the bed. Her first instinct was to help him but when she started forward he shook his head and offered her a small smile, "I can d..do it, Allie."  

And he did. Rising to his feet, Michael stood and walked over to her, standing beside her as they looked out the window together, "It looks different through a clean window."  

"Do you want to go outside?" Allie offered.  

She knew instantly his answer was going to be no. The fear that flashed in his blue eyes was intense as he shook his head, "No, no, no. No, I c..can't go outside."  

Allie took his hand in hers gently and nodded, "Yes you can, Michael. You can do anything you want to do. You aren't anyone's prisoner any longer. You can have a life."  

Michael seemed thoughtful a moment. His eyes still held fear but Allie was certain she saw a bit of hope edging its way in as well, "Is the sun warmer out there?"  

Allie squeezed his hand and leaned against him, relishing the warmth of his body, "Come outside with me and feel for yourself," she urged.  

For a moment, Allie thought perhaps he was going to agree to come outside with her but then he shook his head and his gaze dropped to the floor, "I...I can't."  

Allie nodded with understanding. She knew that Michael had to get over his fear at some point but there was no point rushing him this moment. They still had plenty of time before the Treadwell's would return.  

"How about I go see to breakfast?" Allie offered.  

"Okay."  

"Do you want to come down to the kitchen with me?" Allie hoped he would say yes and for a moment it seemed he might but then he shook his head. She sighed, "Okay then."  

Grabbing her dress from the day before off the chair and her shoes from the floor, Allie left the room full of disappointment that Michael had turned down both of her invitations.  

---

"Well you great big dummy," Amelia scolded, causing Michael to jump with a start and turn away from the window to see her watching him from her bed on the floor.  

"Why?" Michael whispered, hating to hear her insulting him.  

Amelia stood from the floor and sighed as she adjusted her nightdress, "You love my sister, don't you?"  

Michael flushed but nodded knowing that he couldn't lie to Amelia, "Yes, I love her."  

"Well then why did you tell her no when she wanted to spend time with you?!" Amelia demanded, throwing up her hands. "I worked so hard on your hair and I got you new clothes but I can only do so much, Michael, the rest is up to you."  

"What do y.you mean?"  

"I mean that if you want to be with her you have to put in some work. You have to spend time with her. Allie has risked a lot and given up a lot just to see you safe and out of that attic. Pretty soon we'll have to leave here and you have to come with us...."  

"Leave here?!" Michael felt fear overwhelm him. He rushed to the bed and curled up on it, pulling the thick blankets over his head.  

Amelia snorted and yanked the blanket off of him leaving Michael feeling exposed and vulnerable, "Michael, stop this. You're safe here now. The Treadwell's aren't here! You're not alone anymore either. You have me and you have Allie and we want to help you but you have to help yourself! That's what Allie said to me when we left the orphanage. She said that she wanted to take care of me and help me but that I'd have to do some of the work myself so now I'm saying the same thing to you."  

When Michael said nothing, Amelia seemed to grow even more irritated, "Fine. Stay here. Cower in fear and go back to life in the attic when the Treadwell's return. Allie and I will leave and you'll never see either one of us again but, hey, you'll be 

safe ,“

With that Amelia stormed from the room, leaving him alone once again and staring at the open door.  

Michael breathed deep, fighting to calm his racing heart as he waited for someone to come bursting into the room with fists, clubs, harsh words and pain.... But no one came.  

Amelia's words replayed themselves through his mind. He had to do some of the work himself..... She was right, of course.  

For so long Michael had believed that life in the attic had not been bad. It had been all he'd known and so it was simply life, but now???

Now that Allie and Amelia had come into his world Michael knew he could never go back to the life he had once lived. And he couldn't let Allie and Amelia leave here without him.

Rising slowly from the bed, Michael stood on shaking legs and looked at the doorway.  

That doorway was so much more than a doorway. It was a key to the future; his future. Amelia had let him know that he had to take a step; he had to do some of the work.  

She was right when she said that Allie had risked a lot to help him and she had not asked him for a single thing in return. The least he could do in return was join her in the kitchen to prove that he was willing to help himself.  

Michael's steps were slow and shuffling as he headed toward the door. His heart thundered against his ribs and his legs shook with every single inch that brought him closer to the threshold. Upon reaching the door, Michael felt his chest get tight. He gripped the door frame tight with his left hand and closed his eyes, fighting back the fear.  

Be brave. Prove he could help himself. Win Allie's love. He wanted to do all three of those things and in order to accomplish them he needed to leave this room. He needed to step out into the unknown and face....

whatever … it was that lived there.

Keeping his eyes squeezed tight Michael took a deep breath and then stepped out. Slowly he cracked open one eye at a time and what he found was Amelia standing in the hall with a proud, beaming smile on her face. She walked to him and looped her arm though his and Michael felt a bit of his fear fading away at that simple contact.  

Amelia patted his hand and winked, "See now? That wasn't so hard was it?"  

---

Allie was just about finished making Michael's tea and a pot of oatmeal with canned peaches when she heard the unmistakable sound of Michael's shuffling footsteps come into the kitchen.  

Turning quickly, Allie was shocked to see Michael standing there clinging with near desperation to Amelia's arm, "Michael!" she exclaimed. "You came downstairs!"  

"Y..yes," Michael stammered, a clear sign of his nervousness. He glanced around, his bright blue eyes darting in all directions, "It is big."  

"Yes, it is," Allie agreed. "Would you like to sit down?"  

Michael frowned as he looked at the stool she pointed to and Allie wondered if he'd ever even seen one before. Slowly he walked to it and then took a seat, though he gripped the table until his knuckles turned white as if afraid he would topple off at any moment.  

Allie fought back a laugh as she stepped forward and sat his food and tea on the counter in front of him, "Are you okay, Michael?"  

He turned and met her gaze and Allie could see the fear and determination alike warring in his eyes, "Yes. Yes, I am okay."

Allie motioned for Amelia to sit down as well and soon the three of them were sitting together and eating their breakfast. Allie and Amelia spoke and Michael mumbled a reply now and then but mostly he ate and gripped the table and glanced around as if in fear that someone would jump out and kill him at any moment.  

Allie was proud of Michael for leaving that room and coming down to the kitchen. She could only imagine how new and frightening everything must seem to a man who had spent eighteen of his twenty years locked in a dusty attic. She tried to see everything through his eyes but knew that she couldn't. She had seen too much in her life to ever hope to understand his innocence.  

Glancing at Amelia, Allie wondered what her sister had said or done to get Michael to agree to this. She would have to thank the girl later for doing what she hadn't been able to. Allie was sure that Amelia had pushed Michael to this point the way that Allie seemed unable to... she just never wanted to see the man hurt or scared because it broke her heart when she those things in his eyes.  

"That was good," Michael whispered when he finished with his food.  

"Thank you," Allie replied, standing and taking his bowl. His hand caught hers and Allie looked down at those knotted knuckles and swollen fingers, fighting the urge to bring them to her lips and attempt to kiss his pain away.  

"Thank you, Allie," he whispered in earnest.  

The sincerity in his voice tore Allie's gaze from his hand and had her looking into his eyes. Eyes that were the purest of blue--one so vivid and clear to see and the other shadowed by his disfigurement but still so very beautiful.  

"You don't have to thank me for your meals every time I cook them," she scolded gently.  

Michael shook his head, "Not f..for breakfast but for helping me. Thank you for r..risking so much on someone like me."  

Allie felt her heart twist. She bent forward and kissed his brow tenderly, feeling his hand squeeze hers a little tighter, "I would risk everything a hundred times to see you happy, Michael."  

Allie shot Amelia a look when the girl giggled and then she rose up and took the dirty bowls to the counter. She was about to turn back around when a gasp filled the air, "Oh my Lord!"  

Allie turned quickly to see Tessa standing in the kitchen doorway staring at Michael who seemed very fearful because of the woman's presence. Quickly Allie crossed the floor and came to stand beside Michael, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly, "If it's breakfast you're wanting then get some, Tessa. Otherwise, you'll leave Michael alone."  

If Tessa heard the warning she gave no indication as she continued to stare at the right side of Michael's face, the scarred and disfigured side, and shake her head. Allie saw Michael try to hide the side of his face with his hair as he dropped his gaze. She squeezed his shoulder tighter, "You drop your eyes to no one, Michael."  

"I haven't seen this child since he was a babe... All the times I've been in that attic he's been hidden by his cloak," Tessa gasped.  

"Yes, well that cloak is gone now and Michael will be hidden no longer." Allie assured her.  

Tessa's hand reached out and her finger nearly touched the scar on Michael's cheek before Allie smacked it away, "What is he to you, some sort of trinket for you to observe and fondle?" she demanded angrily. "He is a man, flesh and blood, and you and this family treated him no better than you would a rat! You will not touch him! You do not deserve to breathe the same air as this man!"  

Tessa's brown eyes widened with horror as she met Allie's enraged gaze for the first time, "I'm so sorry, suga'!" Tessa gasped. She looked back to Michael, "So very sorry!" With that Tessa turned on her heel and ran from the room.  

Allie nodded to Amelia who leapt from her stool and left as well to go find out where the other woman was going. Allie crouched down and folded her arms over Michael's knees, "Are you okay?"  

"You d..don't have to ask me that so often," Michael replied gently, his hand coming out and caressing Allie's hair. Allie had never been touched so tenderly before in her life and it was in that instant, that very second, that she knew her heart was lost to this man before her. She loved him. And the vulnerability of that knowledge frightened her terribly.  

"Why's that?" she somehow managed to whisper despite the way her throat seemed to be closing up.  

"I'm not as w..weak as you think I am."  

Allie shook her head, "I don't think you're weak at all, Michael," she promised him. "Only someone very strong could live through what you've lived through and still have such a heartwarming smile."  

Michael graced her with one of those smiles then and his hand cupped her cheek softly, "I w..want to see more of the house. Will y..you show me?"  

Allie nodded and took his hand in hers as she stood. If it meant keeping Michael beside her, Allie would show him anything in the world that he wanted to see.

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Allie had known that with Michael's love of books and stories the library would be his favorite place and she had been right. When they had stepped into the grand room the man had simply stopped and stared, spinning in slow circles as he'd taken in the sight of hundreds of thousands of books all lined up on shelves two stories high.  

"Are all homes l..like this?" he'd whispered with awe.  

Allie had smiled and laid her head on his shoulder as she'd leaned closer to him, "No, Michael. I wish they were though."  

Michael had spent the day in the library even choosing to take his supper there. Allie and Amelia had taken turns sitting with him and climbing the ladder to get him books from up high because his bad leg made it impossible for him to get them himself.  

Now darkness had fallen outside and the lamps were glowing in the library. Amelia had long since fallen asleep on the cushioned window seat and Allie had smiled when Michael had shuffled over to her and covered her with a soft blanket from the sofa that sat in the room. Tessa had remained locked in her room and Allie had heard the woman crying through the door when she had walked by it earlier in the day. She wanted to feel some sort of sympathy for the woman but found herself unable to. The woman had had nearly two decades to help Michael and had chosen not to; she deserved to feel ashamed and guilty.  

Michael and Allie were sitting together on a bed of velvet covered feather tick pillows upon the floor. Michael was propped against the wall while Allie sat between his legs with her back resting against his chest. She knew that most would find the close contact she shared with Michael improper but Allie had little concern for propriety. She liked feeling him this close to her just as she enjoyed hearing his heart beat beneath her ear as she slept at night.  

 Michael was reading aloud from a book in his hands about a monster that terrorized the streets of London at night, claiming victims and inciting fear. Normally Allie would not have enjoyed a story like that but to be wrapped up in Michael's arms like this she would endure the nightmares and glances over her shoulder that this story was sure to cause.  

When Michael closed the book Allie was surprised. She turned her head to glance at him, "Are you done reading?"  

"Yes," he replied, staring at the window. "Can we t..talk?"  

"Of course we can," Allie snuggled deeper and smiled when he sat the book aside and held her tighter.  

"Amelia said we'll be leaving soon," Michael whispered,  his fear clear to hear in his words.  

"We'll have to," Allie agreed gently. "We can't be here when the Treadwell's return."  

"I w..wouldn't let them hurt you," Michael assured her bravely.  

Allie felt her heart skip several beats. She had never had a protector or even someone to offer to be one, "It's not me that I'm worried for, Michael. I won't let those people mistreat you ever again."  

They were both silent a while and Allie trembled as Michael's fingertips ran up and down her bare forearms, "Where will we go?" Michael questioned.  

Allie sighed, "I don't know," she replied honestly. "But I can promise that I'll think of something, Michael. You'll never be alone again."  

"Tell me about the orphanage," Michael urged after several more quiet moments. "You n...never speak of it."  

Allie shook her head, "There's nothing to speak of. We were in that horrid place for six years but then I got us out."  

"Were they m..mean to you?"  

Allie closed her eyes and swallowed hard, fighting back the memories of the beatings, the lack of food and the chores that never seemed to end, "Yes."  

"Were they mean to Amelia?"  

"Yes." Allie felt anger stirring in her gut as she remembered the beating the headmistress had given her sister a short time before they'd left the orphanage. The beating had been so severe that her sister hadn't been able to leave her bed for days. Of course the doctor was bought and paid for by the headmistress so the abuse was never reported and had her sister died she wouldn't have been the first, nor the last.  

Allie had known she had to do something. She couldn't allow that woman to continue to beat, starve, abuse or murder any more girls and the law did not seem to care.  And so Allie had done what she had learned to do to protect those she loved and cared about. She had killed her. Of course she was sure to make it appear an accident but Headmistress Lucritia had not tripped and fallen down that staircase all on her own.. She'd had a nice shove from behind.  

"I'm sorry," Michael whispered.  

"Life won't be easy for us when we leave here, Michael. We're going to be hungry most days and we won't have a bed every night but I am going to do my best to keep you and Amelia safe and find a new place for us..."

"You're not alone, Allie. I don't know a..anything about the outside but I will learn and I will help."  

Allie smiled, "I know you will."  

"I...." Michael stopped.  

Allie glanced up at him and let her gaze travel along his jaw and linger on his lips, "What is it?"  

Michael's blue eyes caught hers and Allie could see his uncertainty but also the depth with which he cared for her. No one had ever looked at her that way before, "I love you, Allie."  

Allie couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't think. Michael's confession had rendered her senseless. Love. He loved her. Or at least he thought he did..... But did he really? She knew he wouldn't lie to her on purpose but Michael knew nothing of the world...

Then again, Allie had not gotten where she was by thinking carefully before she acted and why not allow herself this bit of joy in having Michael even if she would lose him later? Didn't Allie deserve to feel love at least once in her life? Michael was the first man she had ever been around that hadn't caused her to feel fear or uncertainty about his touch. Instead she relished his touch, lived for those tender moments when he would take her hand, caress her cheek or hold her tight.  

Instead of giving in to her doubts or pulling away from him, Allie swallowed hard and laid her trembling fingertips against his jaw, "I love you too, Michael."  

Allie saw his eyes light up as his lips curved with a broad smile. Allie had wanted to kiss the man since shortly after she had met him and she wasn't going to ignore that urge any longer.  

Slowly she turned and sat there on her knees. Their eyes locked and that tender hunger was once again looking back at her from Michael's gaze. Allie licked her bottom lip and saw his blue eyes follow the movement before going back to her eyes.  

"I w...want to kiss you," Michael whispered, his voice shaking.  

"I'll be disappointed if you don't," Allie admitted and quickly his lips swooped down and caught hers.  

The kiss was stiff, awkward and unsure given both of their lack of experience in such matters but it was the most amazing, mind-blowing, earth-spinning thing that Allie had ever felt in her life. She was quite certain that her entire body had somehow lifted off the cushion and was now simply floating in the air.  

Allie pulled away slowly and rested her forehead against Michael's as she struggled to catch her breath and calm her heart. She could hear the way his breathing was also labored and knew the kiss had effected him just as deeply.  

"Stories do not do t..that justice," Michael whispered.  

Allie smiled and then found herself laughing lightly as she turned in Michael's arms and the two of them laid down together on the cushions. He wrapped her up tightly against him and Allie kissed his arm, "That is because there has never been a man like you for the writers to weave their stories around."  

"I will do my best to not let you down, Allie. I k..know I have a lot to learn and I am s..scared to learn all I need to about the world but I will do it for you and Amelia. I can't live without you both now that I've m..met you and I can't live without this." His arms squeezed her a bit tighter.  

Allie kissed his jaw lightly, "I'll be right beside you holding your hand with every step you take, Michael. You have nothing to fear."  

Michael's lips caressed her hair, "I love you."  

Allie's heart fluttered and she was again surprised by the reaction she ahd to this man. She would have thought herself too jaded by life to be so swayed by sweet words but Michael and his gentle goodness broke through every wall, defense and bit of skepticism that she had and spoke directly to her heart and soul.  

She sighed with contentment, "I love you too."

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Michael had never known happiness until Allie and Amelia and he knew that now to be fact. Sunrise was streaming through the tall library windows but the women slept on, their light breathing the only sound filling the room.  

Michael held Allie tight against him, breathing in the scent of her hair and knowing that he would never know peace like this without her in his arms. She loved him. That knowledge still shocked him. What would a woman as beautiful and good as Allie see in a monster like him? Michael had no idea but he wasn't about to question her or push her away.  

"Does it have to be morning already?" Allie moaned softly as she adjusted her head on his chest. "I could lay like this forever."  

"We could pull the curtains closed and pr..pretend," Michael replied with a smile.

"I've never been the type to want to linger in bed," Allie admitted. "But now that I wake up in your arms every morning I find that I never want to leave."  

Michael felt his heart swell, "You don't have to."  

A knock came to the library door, interrupting the peace and quiet, "I have some breakfast ready for ya," Tessa's voice carried into the room through the closed door. "And I'd like to speak to ya if ya'd let me so please come out and eat so we can talk."  

Michael heard Tessa's footsteps fade as she walked back down the hall and he sighed with disappointment when Allie sat up and moved away from him, "What could she possibly have to say to us?" she demanded.  

"Maybe she wants to apologize," Amelia offered as she too sat up and stretched her arms over her head.  

"It's a little late for apologies," Allie snorted.  

Michael shook his head, "Tessa has always been kind to me."  

Allie's head whipped around and her brown eyes were wide, "How can you say that? The woman knew you were locked up in that attic and she knew that you were being abused and she did 

nothing to help you!“

Michael nodded. Of course Allie would see it that way. Michael had noticed that Allie had two sides to her. The soft, gentle, loving, kind side that she displayed to those she loved and the protective, angry and defensive side that she displayed to anyone who dared threaten those she loved.  

"She m..might help now," Michael offered  

"And if she doesn't have anything useful to say, at least we got breakfast," Amelia agreed.  

---

Allie found that she could not bring herself to relax as they entered the dining room. Tessa had a feast laid out for them to dine on this morning and Amelia was quick to attack it with gusto.  

Michael began eating as well but Allie simply stood behind him ready to defend him should Tessa say or do anything out of turn.  

"Allie, won't ya sit down please, suga'?" Tessa offered as she folded her hands in front of her.  

Allie was about to refuse when Michael's hand reached back and took hers, squeezing it gently, "Sit down, Allie. You n..need to eat something."  

Slowly she nodded and sat down beside him, her eyes never leaving Tessa. Tessa cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted her feet, "I want to beg your forgiveness," she whispered. "I shouldn't have stood by and done nothing while you were being so mistreated, Michael. Especially when I have seen slavery first hand and felt what it is like to be a prisoner. Michael, can you please forgive me for not getting you out of that place a long time ago?"  

Allie felt Michael's eyes on the side of her face and knew that the man was hoping to hear what she thought on the situation. Instead Allie said nothing. Michael was going to have to make this decision alone because Allie's answer would be no. She didn't tend to forgive very easily when it came to the mistreatment of those she loved.  

"Okay," Michael whispered, turning his gaze back to Tessa. "I..."

"Why didn't you help him sooner?" Allie demanded, unable to hold her tongue any longer. "You say that you should have but why didn't you?"  

Tessa's brown eyes filled with tears, "I have no good excuse," she admitted. "At first I believed that being away from the family and up in that attic was what was best for the boy and later, even once I realized I was incorrect, I was too afraid to help. Work is hard to come by for a woman of my color, especially work that pays so well."  

"Money then? You sacrificed a living person's well-being for money and security?"


Tessa's gaze dropped to the floor, "Yes."  

Allie rolled her eyes and shoved a bite of food into her mouth which Michael's next words nearly had her choking on. "I forgive you,"  

"You what?" Allie demanded.  

"You do?" Tessa whispered with obvious surprise and relief.  

Michael took Allie's hand and seemed to draw strength from the touch, though Allie thought he was being much more forgiving than what Tessa deserved, "I forgive you," he said again. "I am l..leaving soon. If you had gotten me out sooner, I never would have been found by Allie and Amelia."  

Allie could do nothing else than stare wide-eyed at Michael. She could hardly believe the amount of strength, compassion and forgiveness inside the man. He was a better person than any Allie had have known before and she loved him even more because of it, though she still thought Tessa did not deserve to get off quite so easily.  

"Thank you, child," Tessa whispered, tears falling from her dark eyes as her full bottom lip trembled. "I should have helped you a long time ago but I can promise you that from here on I'm here to help any way I can. This job and the money be damned, suga',"  

---

"You want me to go outside?" Michael whispered, his voice trembling with fear as he stood several feet from the back door and stared at

outside world that lay beyond it.

"Yep, you don't have much of a choice," Amelia replied as she blew on her fingernails and then wiped them on the front of her apricot colored dress.  

"You don't have to do it today if you're not ready," Allie countered gently.  

Michael would have laughed at the exasperated glance that Amelia threw Allie's way which was countered by a stubborn tightening of Allie's chin if he hadn't been so terrified by the prospect of stepping out that door.  

Allie sighed and took Michael's hand, leading him away from the door and to the corner, "Michael, there is nothing to be afraid of," she assured him.  

"What's out there?" he questioned, desperate to know and yet too terrified to make his feet cross that threshold.  

Allie smiled brightly at him and he felt his heart pound a million beats per minute, "Sunshine. Wind. Birds. Bees. Beautiful sounds and scents and things you've never seen before, Michael."  

Michael swallowed hard. Allie made it sound like something wonderful instead of something terrifying. Maybe he could step outside.... "Will you hold my hand?" he asked softly. "I th..think I can do it if you hold my hand."  

Allie caught his lips in a quick kiss that left him gasping for air to steady himself and she smiled, "Yes, Michael. I'm here to hold your hand whenever you need me."  

Michael was still reeling from her kiss and didn't realize that Allie had taken his hand and guided him to the door until he felt a blast of air from outside blow against his face.  

Michael froze.  

Never in his entire life had he ever felt air blow against his face that way. When it blew over him again he scurried backward, pulling Allie with him, "What is that?" he demanded.  

"Wind, Michael," Allie replied gently, though when Michael glanced her way he realized she appeared to be fighting back laughter, "It's only the wind and it would have to be much stronger than this to be any threat to you. Come on now," Allie urged him toward the door and Michael drew strength from the connection of their hands as he followed her.  

He knew he was trembling and shaking but was unable to stop as he took one giant step and stood on the porch. The wind blew against him gently, moving his hair and cooling his overheated skin. He could smell sweet scents and knew they were the flowers that were planted everywhere. He had smelled them before through the attic window but out here the scents were so much stronger and more pure.  

"Welcome to the outside, Michael," Amelia said brightly as she jumped off the porch and Michael saw the bright rays of the sun land on her, brightening her skin and making her dark hair shine.  

Michael looked around him feeling as if he were being overloaded with new sights. He had never seen this view before seeing as his attic window was on the other side of the house. He watched the long grasses blowing and he could see a river gently flowing, the water rippling and sparkling as it rushed over rocks. Several small buildings stood out here but he did not know what they were for.  

Allie followed his gaze, "One of those is a storage shed and the other is a wood shed," she informed him.  

Michael nodded and moved toward the steps. He wanted to have that sun on his skin and find out how wonderful it felt. Drawing courage from the touch of Allie's hand and the knowledge that she was right beside him, Michael moved from beneath the cover of the porch and for the first time in his entire life he felt he warmth of the sunshine against his skin.  

It was more than he could have ever imagined it would be. The glow, the warmth, the beauty of it was breathtaking. Slowly he turned and faced Allie. She raised a hand to his cheek and he realized she was wiping a tear from his skin.  

"Thank you, Allie."  

"For what?" she softly asked.  

"For giving me the sunlight."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Allie smiled as she watched Michael and Amelia tossing stones into the river. It had been two days since Michael's first adventure outside. Two days since he'd felt the sun and the wind for the first time and Allie had been hard pressed to get him back in the house at all!  

She loved seeing the changes in him. He was becoming more open, less fearful and more inquisitive. He seemed to be gaining strength with every day that passed as well. He no longer grew so fatigued simply walking around and he could stand and move much more easily and with much less pain.  

Allie knew they would have to leave soon. Already they were tempting fate by remaining in this home and counting on the Treadwell's staying gone the full two weeks. If they came home early Allie was not sure what would happen but she did know that she would kill to protect Michael just the same as she had killed to protect Amelia more than once. She loved that man and would not let any more harm come to him at the hands of these monsters.  

Allie smiled when Amelia and Michael shared a laugh. She realized as she sat there washing clothes on a washboard that Michael seemed to be growing taller. Technically it was the hunch in his back straightening out a bit now that he could stand correctly but already he was standing at least two inches taller than he had before. Allie could no longer look directly into his eyes when they stood face to face. His left leg still came out at an awkward angle from his hip and dragged more than stepped when he walked but even it seemed to be getting a bit better as he gained strength. It was clear that given enough time Michael could prove to be well over six feet tall much like his father and older brother. Even his stutter was vanishing. Only when he was very excited, nervous or scared did he falter over his words.  

To see all those changes in Michael truly made Allie happier than anything else in life ever had. To know that because of Amelia going against the rules and finding him trapped in that attic, Michael was finally able to have a life, made Allie proud of her sister's stubbornness.  

Suddenly a jubilant yell of triumph from Michael had Allie's mind abandoning her thoughts as she stood and dropped the shirt she'd been scrubbing back into the soapy water. She laughed when she saw him jumping up and down the best he could on his leg and laughing happily.  

"What's made you so cheerful?" Allie inquired.  

"I did it!" Michael replied as he swooped her into his arms and kissed her cheek noisily. Allie's heart raced and she clung to him to maintain her balance.  

"Did what?"  

"I skipped the stone!"

Allie laughed happily right along with him, "Good for you," she replied, meaning it whole heartedly.  

Michael was a blessing. He had shown her a side to life that Allie had forgotten existed. An innocent side, a side full of happiness and laughter. He made her look at the world in a whole new way, seeing everything through his eyes and the newness of it all.

"I made up some lunch in if y'all are hungry," Tessa called out the door.  

Amelia took off running into the house and Allie felt her stomach rumbling, "Are you hungry, Michael?"  

Michael laid his hand over his own stomach and winced, "Yeah, I am. I think my stomach is growing," he added, glancing down.  

Allie laughed, "It is and that's good! It means you're growing healthier and stronger every day." It wouldn't be long before his father's pants fit him perfectly without having to be cinched at the waist. Three good meals a day were putting weight on Michael in a hurry. Allie wanted to get him as healthy as she could before they left because she still had no idea where they were going to go or when their next meal might be.  

"You're getting healthier too," Michael noted as he laid his twisted hand on her cheek and she leaned into his touch. Allie knew he spoke the truth. Her body was filling out a little and she had noticed this morning that her cheeks seemed to have better color and her hair a better shine.  

Allie smiled, "I guess the last week has been good for us both," she replied. Turning her face, Allie kissed his palm and then pulled away, "Now let's go eat some lunch and then you can teach me how to skip a stone."  

---

Michael sat on the edge of the bed and watched Allie in the candlelight glow as she combed out her long brown hair.  

Allie was an angel; his angel. She and Amelia had saved him even though he hadn't realized he'd needed saving.  

Michael knew they'd be leaving soon but there was something he really wanted to do before they did. Something that he wasn't at all sure he knew how to do but knew he had to try. He could only hope and pray that Allie would say yes.  

Sparing a glance at Amelia who was sound asleep and snoring lightly on her makeshift bed in the corner, Michael stood from the bed and limped over to the chair that Allie sat upon.  

He took the comb from her hand and smiled at her in the tiny hand mirror, keeping his gaze on her and avoiding the sight of his own face in the glass. As he took over combing the long, silky strands Allie sighed, "I haven't had my hair combed for me in a long time."  

"C...can I ask you something?"  

Allie met his gaze in the mirror and he could see concern in her eyes, "Your nervous," she stated. "What's wrong?"  

Michael swallowed hard and dropped his gaze back the hair he was combing, "I have a question I want to ask you."  

"You don't have to be nervous, Michael. You can ask me anything you want to ask me."  

Michael nodded, drew in a deep breath to steady himself and kept his gaze locked on the comb in his hand, "Will you marry me?"  

Silence stretched on for several long moments and the only sound that filled it was the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Michael's heart was pounding forcefully against his ribs and his stomach felt as if it had a living creature squirming around inside of it.  

"What did you say?" Allie finally whispered.  

Michael's hands fell to the sides as he continued to stare down and avoid meeting her gaze in the mirror, "I asked if y..you would m..marry me."  

"Michael...." Allie stood and turned to face him and Michael spared a glance up to her face. When he saw the sadness in her eyes, Michael felt as if his heart was ripping in half because he knew what her answer was going to be. "Michael, I don't think that would be a good idea."  

"Why?" Michael whispered, his voice cracking.

"It's just not, Michael."  

 "Is it because you don't want to be s..seen with me?" Michael prayed that wasn't the answer.... He didn't know what he would do if it was.  

Allie's brown eyes widened with horror, "What?!" she exclaimed, wincing when Amelia shifted in her sleep, "Of course not," she added much more quietly as she took Michael's hand in hers.  

Michael was relieved to know that much but still very confused by her refusal, "Then why?" he whispered. "Y..you are my angel. I love you. I want to marry you. Don't you love me?"  

Tears filled Allie's eyes as she nodded and stepped closer to him, "You know I do."  

"Then marry me," he insisted. "I have a lot to learn about out there," his eyes went to the window and then back to Allie, "But I want to learn it beside you. I want to be your husband."  

A tear slipped down Allie's cheek as she shook her head, "Michael, I am honored that you want to marry me, truly I am, but I can't marry you. You are right when you say you have a lot to learn about the world and I will stand right there beside you while you learn it but.." she paused and swallowed hard.

"What is it, Allie?" Michael stroked her wrist with his thumb, "Talk to me."  

	Allie's brown eyes locked with his as she replied, "There might be something or someone out there that you'll find you want or love more than me and I can't tie you down to me before you ever have a chance to experience that. I can't do that to you and have you grow to resent me."  

Michael laughed at her statement and shook his head, "There's nothing out there that could make me do that," he insisted.  

Allie kissed his cheek and hugged him tight, laying her head on his chest, "Michael, you don't know that for sure because you've never been out there."  

"Allie, I love you."  

"I know you do," she replied softly, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I know that you love me and I know that right now you truly believe that I am what you want forever but it's too soon, Michael. It's too fast."  

Michael swallowed hard, finding hope blossoming in his heart, "Later then? When we've been out there and I've shown you that you really are all I want; will you marry me then?"  

Allie was quiet for a long moment and then finally she moved back a small step and met his gaze, "If after you've spent some time out in the world and you know the truth about everything that's out there, you still find that I am what you want then, yes, Michael. Yes, I will marry you then."

Michael felt happy enough to dance as he gathered Allie in his arms and crushed her against his chest. He knew there would never be anything that would tempt him away from this woman. She was his angel and she was perfect, soft, kind and had the most beautiful soul--Michael could not imagine a soul more beautiful.  

She might not want to marry him yet but she would--Michael just had to convince her first, "When are we leaving?"  

"Are you excited to leave now?" Allie asked with amusement.  

"Yes. The sooner we leave the sooner I can prove you wrong and marry you."  

"A couple of days," Allie replied. "We need to gather what supplies we can, get some medicine for you and then we'll be on our way."  

Michael nodded, blew out the candle and let Allie to the bed. They curled up together beneath the thick blankets and became lost in passionate kisses until sleep finally claimed them both.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Allie didn't think that going to town was something that Michael needed to do. She hadn't wanted all the ranch hands and everyone in town to see him out and about and risk yet more people sending word to the Treadwell. Allie had wanted to leave him at home but his excitement over seeing new sights had broken down her defenses. It seemed that there wasn't much she could deny Michael; except his marriage proposal.  

Allie still found herself shocked and amazed by the question that had come from Michael's lips just last night. She glanced at him as he sat beside her on the cart seat. He had nearly come undone at the sight of a horse for the first time, grabbing Allie and vowing to protect her from the 

beast even as he had been shaking like a leaf. Allie had fought valiantly to hide her amusement and a warning glance from her had caused the ranch hands to decide they weren’t in laughing moods either.

Their reactions to Michael had been mostly indifference. Most of the hands were new and replaced every other year or so and they had no idea about the personal lives of their employers. They'd had no knowledge of the dead son and certainly no knowledge that that son was truly alive and locked in a dark and dusty attic. Only Frank had seemed shocked. He'd paled and stammered as he'd stumbled backward. He had still been staring and mumbling incoherently about the dead child as Allie, Michael and Amelia had pulled away in the cart.  

Now Michael was taking in all the sights and sounds and asking a million questions which, thankfully, Amelia was quick to answer since Allie's mind was too focused on her own racing thoughts.  

Marriage. Michael's wife. Allie cursed the tremble that coursed through her at that thought and the happiness that swelled her heart. While it truly did humble, amaze and honor her that Michael felt her worthy of marrying him, she knew that it wasn't right. Michael was soft, sweet, innocent, pure, good and kind. He was everything in the world that Allie had forgotten existed and she was.... She was a murderer and she was far from innocent; her father had seen to that. She was none of the things that Michael was.  

She would stand beside the man, enjoy his love for now because she was too selfish to do anything else, but she would back away and let him go gracefully when the day came that he realized she was not what he wanted, because surely somewhere in this world was someone more deserving of such a man and it would only be a matter of time before Michael found her.  

"Allie, what if...." Michael paused and the uncertainty in his voice pulled Allie from her thoughts.  

"What if what, Michael?" she asked gently.  

"What if I scare people in town?"  

Allie took his hand, "You won't scare anyone."  

Michael averted his gaze and looked down at the scuffed floorboards of the cart, "But what if I do? What if they run from me or... what if they hurt me?"  

"Then I'll kick them in the shins," Amelia spoke up from the back of the cart.  

Allie threw a warning glance over her shoulder and then smiled reassuringly as she released Michael's hand and lifted his chin with one finger, "I can't promise you that no one will say anything hurtful because some people are simply small minded and mean spirited and those people will always be around. I can promise you however that no one will physically hurt you, Michael. I won't allow it."  

Michael still didn't seem convinced. His feet shifted and Allie could see that he was shaking, "T...turn around. I should have st...stayed. I want to go back."  

Allie wanted to agree. She wanted to stop the cart, turn it around and take Michael right back to the safety of the house. But she couldn't.  

She couldn't let him give in to fear like this. If she did then he would never overcome it. It was too late to keep him any kind of secret from the townspeople now that all the ranch hands had seen him so there was no good reason to hide him away from town.  

"I'm not turning around, Michael," Allie shook her head, "It's okay if you're a little scared. You'll have me and Amelia to lean on and we'll help you get through this."  

Michael whimpered and his expression was one of complete hopelessness, "Can I have a cloak?"  

"No," Allie's reply was instant and a bit sharper than she had intended. She forced her gaze to soften when she glanced over at him, "You spent too long being hidden away, Michael. You have no reason to hide any longer. You are a better person than I have ever met and anyone who would judge, hurt or think differently is not anyone that you need to pay any mind to."  

"Are you sure?" Michael whispered.  

"Of course she's sure!" Amelia exclaimed with a wink. "She 

is Allie Winthrop after all. There isn’t much she doesn’t know.“

A ghost of a smile curved Michael's lips and Allie leaned sideways and bumped him gently with her shoulder, "You are braver and stronger than you let yourself believe, Michael. Don't listen to the whispers and harsh words because they don't matter. All that matters is that you believe in yourself and that you have me and Amelia here with you and we both love you just as you are."  

The smile that lit Michael's face had pride blossoming in Allie's heart. It was such an honor to be able to help someone who truly appreciated kindness. Though Allie considered Michael to be just as big a hero to her as he seemed to believe she was. He taught her things about life and looking at life every single day they spent together.  

"And you'll hold my hand, won't you, Allie?" Michael questioned, his voice still shaking but not quite as badly as it had been moments before.  

"You know I will,"  

Amelia stood up in the back and laid her chin on Michael's shoulder, "And I'll hold your other one that way you'll have a pair of tough bodyguards and no one will even think about messing with you."  

Allie rolled her eyes at her sister's nonsense but found herself laughing right along when Michael's laughter filled the late morning air.  

---

Michael wanted to be brave. He wanted so badly to not be afraid, to not let Allie and Amelia see him shaking. Truth was, however, that he was terrified. He was so terrified that he feared he might lose the breakfast that Allie had cooked that morning.  

He could see town coming into view. He could see the people. There were more people than he could have ever imagined living in one place. The ranch hands hadn't frightened him too badly. He had gotten used to seeing flashes of them through his dirty attic window and so felt almost familiar with them, but these people were new and there were many more of them.  

What if Allie was wrong? What if they called him a monster and laughed in his face? What if they hit him the way Ma'am had always liked to? He didn't want Allie to see him like that again. She had seen him broken so many times and he wanted to be a true man for her. He knew from stories how men should be. He should be strong, confident, fearless and able, not crying, bleeding, curled on the floor and beaten down.  

Michael felt his nerves failing him when he heard the noise. So many voices; some talking, some laughing, some shouting angrily. Clanging of metal, snorts of horses, barking of dogs, the whistle of a train that was pulling into the station... It was all too much.  

He was shaking, his knuckles were tight as he clenched his fists, his back ached as his body tensed and his mind raced with panic.

Then Allie laid her hand gently over his and just like that some of his fear faded away. He didn't lose all of his fear but with her next to him, Michael could face whatever this town had to show him. His attention went back to the train. He had seen a picture of a train once and that was the only reason he knew what that massive beast made of steel was called.  

It sent up a giant puff of white smoke as it screeched to a stop and Michael found himself fascinated by the sight of something so large and powerful, "Have you ever ridden on a train?" he whispered.  

"Sure have," Amelia spoke up. "Of course we didn't have money for a ticket so we snuck and rode in a storage cart. We got jostled around pretty bad but it was fun trying on the rich folks clothes and jewelry."  

"Amelia!" Allie scolded as a flush colored her pretty cheeks.  

"I want to see it. Can we go see it?" Michael looked hopefully at Allie and she smiled as she looked back at him.  

"Yes, we can go see it. Let me park the cart beside the mercantile and we'll walk down to the station."  

Michael could scarcely contain his excitement. Yes, he was still afraid but he was going to make the best of finally being in town and seeing new things. Allie told him it was safe and he believed her; he trusted Allie with his life, he had no reason not to.  

Allie brought the cart to a stop beside a large building that had a sign on the front boasting that they had '

everything you could ever need’ . Michael thought the place looked awful big and wondered just how many things some people needed. Other than food and something to drink, Michael couldn’t see how there was much else a person needed that they could buy– of course he supposed clothes would be on that list. He didn’t see anyone walking around unclothed.

Allie hopped down and hitched up the horse before coming around and helping Michael down. It was hard to hop down off a cart with his leg the way it was. She looped her arm through his and Michael felt his heart swell with pride when he realized that everyone they saw today, everyone that could see them now, would see that Allie was with him and that she wasn't ashamed.  

Allie and Amelia led him down the crowded streets and Michael's heart raced. He realized that most people didn't pay him any mind but a few did. There were several that stared openly, a couple that moved far away as he passed by as if afraid of him and he could hear whispers from more than a few lips.  

But Michael fought hard to ignore those people and instead focus on the feel of Allie's hand in his misshapen one and Amelia's hand in his other. He concentrated on Amelia's words as she went on and on about how fun it was to pretend to be a rich debutant while stowing away in the storage cart of a train.  

When a child pointed at Michael and laughed  he nearly forgot all about being brave and ran away but Allie's hold on his hand tightened and she raised her other hand and acted as if she were going to strike the boy and he yelped and took off running, his feet flying so high that he was nearly kicking his own self in the backside with every step.  

They made it to the train without any serious incidents and Michael stared in wonder at the giant beast. He wanted badly to touch it and yet was terrified to do so.. What if it hurt him? Was it hot? Or cold? Would it be rough to the touch or would it feel as smooth as it looked?  

"Can I help you folks?" Michael turned quickly to see a man in blue bibbed overalls and a blue cap walking toward them with his thumbs looped around the straps of his pants. The man's eyes widened a bit when he saw Michael but the friendly smile never left his bearded face.  

"Hi, sir. I hope we're not bothering you but he's never seen a train and he was curious," Allie explained.  

"Never seen a train?" the man tsked and motioned them toward the train with his hand, "Come on in then and you can look around the engine room. All I'm hauling is freight and it'll take a good thirty minutes to get it all loaded. I got plenty of time."  

"Inside?" Michael whispered with awe.  

"Do you want to?" Allie questioned and Michael found that he was so shocked, nervous and excited all at once that he could barely do more than nod.

"Come on then," the man stated, his loud voice booming but full of good nature. "I'll give ya the grand tour."  

Michael smiled at Allie and Amelia. They had been right--the world really wasn't so bad and not everyone in it was like the monsters that had kept him locked away for so long.

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Michael... I can't believe I'm seeing you alive and well..."  

Allie saw Michael shift awkwardly as he stared at the storekeeper of the medicine shop. The store keeper seemed truly awed by the sight of Michael.

"Okay," Michael replied, seeming not to know what else to say.  

"I had nothing but suspicions that you might still be alive until the day that this beautiful lady came in and got tea and ointment for her sick friend at the Treadwell's place. It always seemed strange to me that you died so suddenly when you had been in perfect health.... And now I'm rambling!" he pulled off his glasses and began to clean them on his white apron, "My name is Gibson, I don't believe I ever introduced myself the last time you were here," he admitted to Allie. "What can I do for you all?"  

Allie stepped forward, "I'd like to get more of that tea and ointment for Michael."  

A frown creased Gibson's brow, "Are you out already?"  

"No, but we'll be moving on soon and I'll need to make sure we have enough to last for a while."  

Gibson nodded, "Leaving while they're gone? Aren't you worried that will cause concern?"  

"

They told the world he was dead and locked him in an attic for eighteen years, I hardly think they have any concern at all for his wellbeing.“

Gibson paled, "God in heaven... truly?"  

"Yes, truly," Michael whispered.  

Gibson shook his head, "Where will you go?"  

"We'll worry about that when we get to that point," Allie assured him quickly. "Do you have more medicine on hand or will some have to be ordered?" She truly hoped she wouldn't have to wait for an order to come in. She wanted to leave no later than tomorrow afternoon. Allie knew that the Treadwell's wouldn't chase after them because they were concerned for Michael, no they would chase them simply to hide their dirty secret. Allie had no doubts that they were the kind of people that would do exactly that.  

"I have plenty on hand," Gibson assured her.  

"Are you certain this is a good idea, ma'am? I understand that Michael needs help but his family isn't known for taking embarrassment well and you've now brought the son they tried desperately to keep hidden out into the public and folks are smart enough to realize exactly what they've done. While they did nothing criminal in the eyes of the law it is certainly something that will cause them scandal. His mother and father will not be likely to sit idly by and allow this...."  

"Family?" Michael's voice was quiet and confused.  

Allie winced inwardly, let out a slow breath and turned to face him, "Michael..."  

"Those p..people are my family? Ma'am is m..my mother?"   

"Michael, those people are monsters and nothing for you to think about...."  

"Don't d..do that." Michael grumbled, sounding angry for the first time that Allie could remember. "You didn't tell me and you knew...Everything ma'am said... it was my mother speaking."

Allie felt her heart break at the pain she could hear laced into Michael's words. She stepped to him and put her hands on his cheeks, stroking the scar that marred his face gently with her thumb, "You are not what she has tried to make you believe you are, Michael. You are not what any of them say. You are...."  

Allie was shocked into silence when Michael pulled away from her. She saw tears filling his bright blue eyes and he rubbed angrily at them, "I'm g..going out to the c..cart. I want to g..go home."  

Michael turned and limped heavily from the room, his shoulders slumped. Allie wanted to rush after him but needed the medicine, "Amelia, go with him and come get me if something happens before I come back out."  

Amelia nodded and raced out the door after Michael. Allie turned her attention back to Gibson who was chewing the inside of his cheek nervously, "Did the boy not know that was his family?"  

"Obviously not," Allie snapped and then she sighed. Her anger with Gibson was misplaced. She truly wanted to have those horrid Treadwell's in front of her so she could tell them exactly what she thought of them.  

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am."  

"Allie, my name is Allie, and don't be sorry. It's not your fault, Gibson. You couldn't have known that he wasn't aware of who the Treadwell's were to him."  

"Still, I feel just terrible..."  

"Don't. He'll be okay. He had to learn sometime. Now if you can get that medicine ready, I hate to be away from him while he's upset."  

"Of course," Gibson quickly filled two sacks with the tea and the ointment that had given Michael so much relief thus far. He handed them to her across the counter and then shook his head when she pulled her change purse from her skirt pocket, "It's on the house," he instead.  

"I can't do that!" Allie argued. "I can't take that much medicine for free."  

"You aren't taking it, I'm giving it," he assured her. "That poor child has suffered enough in his life, Allie, and if I can offer him even this small bit of comfort here and now then that's what I want to do."  

Allie wished she could say she had pride that kept her from accepting such costly charities but life had taken any of that pride from her long ago. She had learned not to turn her nose up to anything free because such gifts did not come around often.

Allie tipped her head, "Thank you."  

Gibson reached out and took her wrist when she tried to turn away. Allie stiffened and fought the urge to swing her other arm and strike him. Her nostrils flared and she swallowed against the initial panic.  

He quickly released his hold and smiled apologetically, "I shouldn't have grabbed you, I apologize. I simply wanted to tell you that if you need anything else, if there is any other way I can help you, then to please let me know.  I have room upstairs if the three of you need a place to stay for a while."  

Thank you for the offer," Allie tightened her grip on the burlap sacks in her hands, "I truly do appreciate the kindness but I believe it would be best to get Michael as far from here and from those people as I can. "

Gibson nodded and took a step back, "Of course. My offer still stands however should you change your mind."  

Allie smiled tightly, her mind on Michael and the pain she had seen on his face; heard in his voice. Without another word Allie turned and left the medicine shop.  

---

Allie finished packing up one sack with hard tack biscuits and jerked beef from the ranch hands supplies and sat the sack beside the front door with the few other supplies she had gathered to take along. They would be leaving on foot in the morning but Allie was hopeful that within a day or two they could reach Campton, a smaller town to the west, and catch a stagecoach or a train to take them farther away more quickly. She had five dollars left to her name and once that was gone Allie dreaded to think of what would happen.  

But she couldn't dwell on that now. She had always found a way to survive before and this would be no different. What she needed to worry about now was Michael.  

He hadn't spoken since leaving the medicine shop. He had simply sat and stared into space and acted as if he couldn't hear or see anything around him. Nothing Allie or Amelia had said had seemed to break through whatever wall he had placed around himself.  

Allie walked upstairs by lamp light and peeked inside the bedroom to find that Amelia was sound asleep with the doll that Michael had given her clutched against her chest. Allie smiled, gently kissed her sister's brow and slipped from the room.  

Allie was going to make her way to the library, assuming that's where Michael would be hiding out when she heard a shuffle come from the attic and quickly stopped in the hall. She glanced up those rickety stairs and saw the attic door was wide open.  

Was Michael up there?  

Quickly Allie climbed the staircase and held her lamp high as she entered that dark and dusty room she had hoped to never see again, "Michael?" she called. "Michael, are you up here?"  

She heard the shuffling again and followed the sound around the crates to find Michael, all wrapped in his cloak and lying curled up upon his old bed of sacks and rags.  

"Oh, Michael, what are you doing?" Allie whispered as she sat her lamp down on a nearby vanity and took a seat upon the bed beside him. "Michael, talk to me please," Allie pleaded, her voice breaking. She grabbed him and pulled and tugged, happy when he willingly came toward her and rested his head and shoulders in her lap.  

Allie pushed the cloak from his face to find that his cheeks were stained with tears and his eyes were red and swollen, "Michael, speak to me. Tell me how to help you," Allie begged, wiping his cheeks with her finger tips before tracing the scar that marred his right one.  

"They are my family.." he whispered, his voice hoarse.  

Allie shook her head, "No, Amelia and I are your family, Michael. Those people are nothing."  

"They are..." he insisted.  

Allie met and held his gaze, "They don't deserve this kind of pain, Michael. Those people don't deserve you and you are so much better than them. You've come so far in such a short amount of time; don't let them pull you right back down."  

"But Ma'am is my mother, Allie. How could she say the things she said..... I never told you just how bad it was.."  

Allie felt her temper flare but willed it back down, "I can imagine how bad it was, Michael. We all have bad in our past but we have to overcome it. Not all mothers are deserving of the children they are given."  

"It hurts," Michael whispered.  

Allie nodded and kissed his brow gently, "I know it does."  

"I had made up a life in my head," Michael continued, his gaze going to the walls. Allie could see fresh carvings unmarked by age or dust. Among them was a train and the sun. "I imagined that I'd been kidnapped as a child and that my family was out there somewhere looking for me, worried about me, loving me..." he gave a weak, pain-filled laugh. "I was wrong, wasn't I?"  

Allie didn't know what to say. She knew Michael's pain. The pain of knowing that the people you were born to, the people who were supposed to love, nurture and protect you, were monsters who truly didn't care. She knew the pain that came from being slapped, degraded and broken down by your mother; she knew it all too well.  

Instead of speaking in that moment, Allie blew out the lamp and curled up on the bed, holding Michael tight and offering him what comfort she could. His body wrapped around hers quickly and she felt him shaking as he cried against her chest.  

"I'm sorry, Michael."

His tears fell harder and Allie held him tighter, her heart ripping in two. She should have told him the truth about his parents sooner. She should have gotten it out of the way in the beginning and prevented this set back but she hadn't wanted to hurt him. She had truly hoped he would never have to know the truth, even if that hope had been foolish.  

"Did Amelia tell you about our parents?" Allie asked cautiously. Never had she opened up to anyone about her family, her past, her truth. She wasn't completely sure she could be open enough to share it all with Michael but she could share a little; at least let him know he wasn't alone in his hurt.  

Michael sniffed, "They abandoned you. I'm s..sorry. I'm being a b..aby and you have your own pain..."  

"Hush," Allie scolded gently. "You are not being a baby. My pain was constant from birth and I always knew who was causing it. You had hope, hope of a loving family, and you just had that hope ripped away. I would cry too."  

Michael remained quiet with his head against her heart and Allie ran her fingers through his hair, "Amelia doesn't know the truth about our family," she finally whispered. Her words were quiet, hesitant. She had gone so long speaking the lie that to speak the truth just seemed foreign and strange.  

Michael's head lifted and he scooted back a little so he could look in her eyes, "What's the truth?"  

"They didn't abandon us," Allie replied, averting her gaze and focusing on his mouth instead of his eyes. "I wish they would have. It would be an easier truth."  

"Allie, what happened? You can tell me."  

"I'm not sure I can, Michael..." Allie's voice broke and she cursed her weakness. "If you knew things about me you wouldn't think me the angel that you so far have believed me to be."  

Michael swiped his hand over his face and sat up, pulling Allie with him and cradling her against his chest. Allie was shocked by the sudden change in dynamics. Somehow they'd switched the rolls of strong and weak and Allie had to admit that it felt nice to be cradled.  

"Nothing can make you less of an angel to me, Allie. I might not know much about the world but I know that you are good. You saved me. You are 

my angel no matter what.“

"Our mother was a mean woman. She hit me, beat me, insulted me and simply used me to do labor around the house from the time I was old enough to walk. I was eleven when Amelia was born and our mother did nothing but feed her, the rest of her care fell on me. I was thirteen when it happened...."  

"What happened?" Michael urged gently.  

Allie heaved out a shaky sigh preparing to speak words and share events she had never before shared. She had to trust Michael with this and now that she had started she wanted to get it all out. She wanted to let him know exactly who she was, exactly what she had done and then decide for himself if he truly loved her.  

"Our parents argued constantly my whole life but my father's drinking became worse and as it did so did their fights. My mother had a man that she was seeing when my father wasn't around and he found out. He hit her and she hit him back. They fought and struggled against one another. He led her toward the stairs and I knew what he was going to do as he held her there. I could have stopped him...." Allie shivered as she remembered that horrible night. "I could have kept him from killing my mother but I didn't. I didn't because I wanted her to die. I wanted the beatings to end. I wanted the insults to end..." Allie pulled herself from Michael's arms and stood. She went to the dirty window and looked out at the moonlit fields with her arms wrapped tight around her.  

"He threw her down the stairs and then walked down the stairs and snapped her neck, just to be sure she died I suppose. I hid myself in my room. The coroner came and ruled it an accidental death and his official report read that a fall down the stairs had broken her neck and killed her. I could have told him the truth but I didn't."  

Allie waited for Michael to speak but he didn't. She knew without looking that he was still sitting where she had left him, "After that he got worse. The drinking and his temper made life very dangerous for Amelia and I. I did the best I could to keep her out of his way, she was two then and wanted to explore the world but I kept her cooped up in our room most of the time. I was confused the first night he came into our room smelling of liquor with tears on his face. He called me my mother's name and didn't seem to know who I was...."  

Allie felt her stomach turn and feared she might vomit but knew she had to get this out. Now that it was coming, it wouldn't stop. It was like a sickness she was finally purging from herself and she had to let it all go.  

"Michael, do you know what happens between a man and a woman? Do you understand the concept of making love?"  

"Yes," Michael whispered, his voice sounding a million miles away. "Yes, I've read about it..."  

Allie squeezed her eyes tight, "It's not always the way the books make it sound. My father took my innocence that night and I can still remember the pain. I can taste the liquor that was on his lips and I can remember the bruises.... He came back two more nights after that only those times he called me by my name and knew exactly who he was forcing. Nothing I said could make him stop...."  

Allie stopped as tears began to pour from her eyes. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and fell to her knees, her sobs overwhelming her. She had never told anyone what had happened. She had swallowed down the pain and kept it locked their and drudging it all up was proving to be more than she could bear.  

Suddenly a pair of strong arms were wrapped around her from behind and Michael's lips were against her ear, "It's okay, Allie. I won't let anyone hurt you again."  

Allie let out a tear filled  sound that was a mix between a sob and a laugh as Michael spoke the words to her that she had spoken to him so many times. She could hear the conviction in his voice and she leaned against him. It was weak to lean on this man for strength when he was fighting with his own hurt but Allie found herself unable to pull away and be strong on her own and her body shook and heaved.  

"You got away from him, Allie. He can't hurt you anymore."  

Allie snorted, "I know he can't. He's dead."  

"Dead?" Michael whispered. "Did you kill him?"

"Would you pull away from me if I said yes?" Allie asked, forcing her voice to sound indifferent despite the fear raging in her heart.  

"No," Michael spoke clearly, no doubt or judgment in his words. "I would say he deserved it."  

"I did kill him, Michael." Allie shook and trembled in Michael's arms and he held her tighter. "It was the fourth night he came to me. I couldn't do it again. I couldn't go through the pain again and I cried and begged and pleaded. Then Amelia started crying in her crib across the room.. Michael, he went to her and I could tell; I could see it in his eyes, he was going to do to her what he'd done to me. He was going to do that to a two year old child!"

Allie felt Michael shiver and knew that he was disgusted by that knowledge, "I don't like this story but I want to know how it ends. What happened, Allie?"

"I grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and I hit him as hard as I could right in the head with it. He fell to the floor, unconscious and the lamp fell as well, breaking and setting the room on fire. I probably could have used the blanket and stamped the fire out but I didn't... I didn't try to save him. I grabbed Amelia and I ran. I ran with her for as long as I could until I collapsed. For weeks we lived on the streets and I stole food to keep us alive. Then we were found by police and taken to an orphanage."

"You said they were mean to you," Michael noted.  

"Yes. Beatings, starvation, overworking us, the headmistress was evil. Over the years I saw girls die because of hunger or because of the beatings she gave them. The police didn't care, I tried to go to them. The doctor was bought and paid for so he did nothing to help. Then she beat Amelia. She beat my eight year old sister so badly that she very nearly died. It was days before she could even move from the bed. I knew I had to do something. I was old enough to leave but if I didn't stop that woman she would kill more girls...."  

"You killed her didn't you?" Michael whispered.  

"Yes..." Allie's voice broke again but her eyes had run dry and her throat was raw from the tears she'd alright cried so violently. "I threw her down the stairs and she died quickly. Then I ran with my sister and we kept running until we ended up here."  

Michael was quiet for a long time as he sat behind her simply holding her tight and Allie wondered what he was thinking. She kept waiting fro him to pull away, or to tell her that he didn't love her after all, but that didn't happen.  

His hands caressed her arms. His breath washed against her ear and neck. His heart beat against her back and finally he sighed, "You don't realize how good you are, Allie. You are an angel but you aren't a typical angel. You're an avenging angel. You protect the innocent and the weak. You've protected me, you protected your sister and those other girls...."

"Michael, I'm not.."  

"Don't argue with me. I'm not worldly or educated but that doesn't mean I'm stupid and I'm smart enough to make my own decisions and see things the way I see them. But you don't have to be strong alone anymore. I love you. I want to be strong like you, for you, with you. Will you teach me to be strong?"  

Allie turned in his arms, her head was pounding from her tears, her eyes ached and her throat burned. She was physically and emotionally exhausted but she mustered a smile for him, "You are stronger than any person I've ever met, Michael. You don't need any lessons."  

Michael pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand for Allie. She laid her hand in his and he helped pull her to stand. He led her to the bed and laid down and Allie laid down with him, just the way she had the first night they'd spent together up here.  

"You've never told anyone all of that have you?" Michael whispered in the darkness.  

"No."  

"Thank you, Allie."  

"For what?"  

"For trusting me."

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

The pain in Michael's back and leg is what awoke him the next morning. Lying on his old bed of rags had disagreed with his joints. Feeling Allie curled up against him however helped lessen the discomfort.  

As he stroked her back and kissed her hair he thought about the truths that she had trusted him with last night. His Allie, his angel, had lived such a hard life and yet she had somehow remained beautiful through it all. Michael knew she couldn't see it in herself but he could.  

She cared about other people. She had risked so much and sacrificed even more to save her sister, to give the girls in that orphanage a chance and to save him, a man who she didn't know at all at the time, a man who most would have turned their noses up at and simply pretended didn't exist.  

He thought about what her father had done to her and felt true anger rise up in his chest. Anger was something new for Michael and he didn't like the emotion. How dare that man, who was supposed to love and protect his daughter, touch her and hurt her in such a way--not only that but he had been prepared to do the same to Amelia!  

Michael held Allie closer and breathed in her scent. He would protect this woman and Amelia from any other men that ever tried to do them harm. He loved them both and Allie had taught him that's what you did for people you loved; you protected them.  

Michael wanted to marry Allie, he wanted to be her husband, he wanted to love, honor and protect her for the rest of his life.  He felt things when he was near her and suspected it was his body wanting to be with her the way a man and woman were meant to be together.... But he wouldn't force her. Surely the abuse of her father would keep her from wanting to share that with another man--and Michael had never given any thought at all to being with a woman before he'd meant Allie. He feared he wouldn't be able to please her the way she deserved.

Allie stirred in his arms and Michael smiled, "Good morning."

"Good morning," her whispering voice was hoarse from all the tears she had cried the night before.  

Michael put his knuckle beneath her chin and lifted her head up so he could press his lips softly to hers. Allie moaned and kissed him deeper. Michael lost himself in the kiss, in the way her fingertips gently caressed his cheek, not bothered by the scar and deformity that marred it.  

Never had Michael imagined he could feel the way that Allie made him feel. His heart raced, heat filled his veins and love and desire all swirled together in his mind. Michael could feel his pants tightening as the heat built and grew in intensity. He knew enough from books to know what all those feelings in his body were but nothing in a book could prepare a person for the intensity of feeling them.  

"I love you, Allie," he gasped as she pulled her lips away.  

"And I love you" Allie whispered, color flushing her cheeks. Michael felt a jolt of bravery course through him and he put his lips against her neck, nibbling the tender skin there.

His name left her lips on a moan and Michael felt her cling to him a bit tighter. He flipped them over and braced himself over Allie's tiny body as he once again moved his lips to hers.  

Kissing Allie was one of the only times that Michael felt strong and powerful. With her below him this way, she seemed smaller somehow and he felt somehow as if he were more of a man.  

Michael lost all sense of time as Allie's arms looped around his neck and their lips and tongues molded together, becoming more like one mouth instead of two. Michael moved one hand up along her side and his thumb traced lightly over her breast.  

Instantly Allie stiffened and Michael pulled his mouth away and looked down at her with concern, "What's wrong?"  

Allie bit her lip as regret filled her soft brown eyes, "I don't know if I can..."  

"Can what?" Michael questioned, his brow furrowing with confusion.  

Allie squirmed beneath him and suddenly seemed as if she would rather be anywhere else, "I don't know if I can give you 

me , the way that a woman is supposed to give herself to the man she loves.“

Understanding dawned in Michael's mind and he chastised himself for losing himself so deeply in her kisses. He gazed at her tenderly and gently slid a strand of her brown hair from her face, "Can you kiss me gently?"  

"What?" Allie seemed truly confused.

"Can y..you kiss me gently?"  

"Well...yes,"  

"Can you stand beside me?"

Annoyance and disbelief crossed Allie's face, "Michael..."  

Michael stubbornly stood his ground, "Can you stand beside me?"  

"Yes."  

"And can you hold my hand?"  

Tears pricked in Allie's eyes and a smile curved her lips, "Of course."  

Michael smiled brightly, "That's all I need. You beside me, holding my hand and the kisses. I'll never need anything else to be happy with you."  

"I love you so much, Michael. You have no idea what a blessing you are."  

Michael kissed her brow, "Will you marry me now?"  

Allie's laughter rang out and she put her hands on his cheeks and pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him passionately. Michael forced himself to pull away a bit and locked his gaze with hers, "Will you, Allie? I know you worry I'll find someone else but I won't. 

You are what I want.“

Michael felt hope swell within his heart, pushing aside the nervousness, as Allie smiled up at him, "I....."  

"Get off of her, you damn monster!"  

Michael barely had time to register that he and Allie were no longer alone in the attic before Theodore's hands gripped the back of his cloak and hauled him off of Allie. Michael cried out with shock and fear as Theodore whirled him around and lifted his feet off the ground, "What gives you the right to think you can touch her?" Theodore demanded.  

"I..I..l..love..." Michael couldn't seem to talk as his fear froze his throat. Theodore sneered, his icy blue eyes full of hate, and then his fist connected solidly with Michael's jaw.  

Michael went down hard but Theodore came down with him and continued to hit him.  

"Stop!" Michael was aware of a flash of movement and suddenly Allie was on top of Theodore. She was flogging him in the head and Theodore rose quickly and whirled around, catching her by the arm.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.  

"You won't hit him again!" Allie spat, her brown eyes burning with rage as she yanked her arm from his grip.  

"And why not?" Theodore growled. Michael pushed himself to his feet and went to stand beside Allie. He was trembling with fear at once again facing one of the monsters in his life. He wanted to run. Michael wanted to pull his hood over his head, curl up in the corner and simply disappear the way he had always done in the past....

Then Allie's hand slipped inside his and Michael found his bravery. For the first time in his entire life, Michael met this man's eyes, his brother, and stood his ground. He was surprised to find that Theodore wasn't as tall as Michael remembered. While neither could stand completely straight in this attic, Michael found that he was looking directly into Theodore's eyes instead of at his chest as he always had before.  

Theodore's eyes widened in shock as he looked from Michael to Allie and back again, "You were kissing him willingly?!"  

"Yes," Allie replied, squeezing Michael's hand a little tighter, "Yes, I was kissing him willingly just as I have many times. And we are leaving, Theodore. My advice for you is to get out of our way and simply let us go."  

Theodore let out a harsh bark of laughter, "You're not going anywhere. The rest of the family will be home within the next couple of hours and they aren't letting you out of here with that pathetic monster. His place is in this attic."  

"You're wrong. His place is beside me and I'm taking him with me."  

Michael could see the anger on Theodore's face but then something else entered his eyes. It was an emotion that Michael didn't recognize but it caused an uneasy sensation to run down his spine.  

"You denied me, turned me down, practically spat in my face when I displayed my interest and yet you give yourself to this..." Theodore sneered as he looked Michael up and down and then turned his angry blue eyes back to Allie, "..this 

thing ?“

"You will watch how you speak about Michael," Allie warned and Michael wanted to scream at her. He wanted to tell her to stop defending him because he could tell that Theodore was growing very angry.  

"I'm gonna teach you a lesson, bitch. You are nothing. You are less than nothing, and yet you felt yourself above me. That's over now.."

"Don't speak to her that way!" Michael raged, unsure where his bravery came from. He swung his fist and caught Theodore hard in the mouth.  

Michael froze, never had he struck anyone. Never had he even imagined he could after being beaten and battered.  

Theodore stared at his brother with shock and rubbed at his welted skin, "That was just the biggest mistake you've ever made," he warned and then he launched himself at Michael, striking him so hard in the temple that the world swayed and Michael fell hard, unable to hold completely onto consciousness. The last clear thought he had was full of nothing but fear for Allie.  

---

Allie cried out Michael's name and tried to go to him as he crumpled on the floor but Theodore's hands closed hard on her hips and jerked her back before shoving her into a stack of crates.  

Pain radiated through her face as it was smashed against unforgiving wood. Theodore stood behind her, gripping her hips so roughly that Allie knew the bones would bruise.  

"Let go of me!" she exclaimed, kicking back her leg and catching him in the shin. Theodore grunted with pain, grabbed her hair, lifted her head and then slammed it against the crate.  

Allie tasted blood in her mouth as her head swam. She felt her skits behind lifted and while she struggled against him the best she could in her dazed state, Theodore was a very big and very strong man and he managed to hold her in place quite easily.  

She felt the air against her bare backside as her underclothes were yanked down and tears filled her eyes. Not again. She couldn't go through this again.  

She fought more ferociously and reached back to claw at his face. He let out a howl of pain and punched her hard in the side, causing a body jarring pain to radiate throughout her insides.  

Michael moaned and seemed to be coming to slightly but Allie knew he wouldn't be in time. She felt Theodore's hands on her backside and blanched, nearly vomiting right there as fear paralyzed her.  

Then there was a rush of footsteps and a resounding thud filled the air. Theodore let out a grunt and then slumped to the side and fell upon the floor, releasing his hold on Allie as he went.  

Allie turned and saw Amelia standing there with an old rusted skillet in her hands. She was breathing hard and panting as she stared down at Theodore, "Did I kill him?!" she gasped.  

"No," Allie assured her, pushing aside her own fear and pain as she pulled up her underclothes and down her skirts.  

Amelia sighed, "Damn."  

"Amelia!" Allie scolded. "You don't want to kill someone. You don't want that on your conscience."  

Allie rushed to Michael who was just struggling to sit up, "Allie..." he whispered and then he seemed to come to in a rush and he grabbed her face, cradling her head gently and swiping his thumb over her bloody lip, "He hurt you....."

"He only hurt my face, Michael. Amelia came and stopped him before he could do anything else."  

Michael's eyes searched hers and she knew he was attempting to determine if she was telling him the truth. Allie leaned forward, kissed his jaw lightly and then pulled him to his feet, "We have to go, Michael. You and Amelia go downstairs and get all those bags I had ready loaded into the cart. Frank said he would ready a horse to it when we were ready to leave. We'll take the cart to the property line to the west and leave it and the horse there so they cannot get us for horse theft."  

"What are you going to do?" Amelia demanded.  

"Tie him up so he can't follow us," Allie assured them both. "Now you need to go."  

"I'll stay with you," Michael countered stubbornly.  

Allie gritted her teeth, "Michael, I can handle him long enough to tie him up. You need to go get things ready. The Treadwell's will be back soon and we must be gone before then."  

Michael heaved out a sigh before nodding and taking Amelia's hand and pulling her out the door.  

Allie stood over Theodore and glared at the man with nothing but hatred. She undid his belt and pulled it off of him before flipping over his body and using the strip of leather to bind his wrists together.  

When she flipped him back over he was moaning and his eyelids had begun to flutter. Allie reached into her boot, pulled out the knife she kept there and then squatted down beside him, "Theodore?"  

"Hmm..." he moaned in pain and his eyes seemed distant as he rolled his head to the side to look at her.  

"You call Michael a monster when in truth the monster is you and this entire rotted family. Michael is the only good that this family ever created and I will not have you hurting him again."  

Allie wanted to kill him. She placed her knife against the tender skin of his throat and saw his eyes widen though he still seemed too dazed and disoriented to resist her. Then she thought of Michael and Amelia... if she killed Theodore there was a good chance she would not get away with it and she would end up in prison or the gallows. Neither of those places would make it possible for her to care for those depending on her.  

"I'm not going to kill you," she stated, pulling the knife from his throat. "But I am going to leave my mark on you, Theodore. You are the monster and now, every time you look in the mirror, you'll remember that."  

Allie brought the knife to his cheek and his screams of pain filled the air as his legs thrashed. She slid the blade down his cheek, leaving behind a laceration as blood welled up and dripped down his face. She moved her knife to the other side and repeated the motion.  

Theodore was sobbing in pain. A pathetic waste of breath. A man who beat those weaker than himself, who forced women to prove his tenacity was now showing his true colors as he lay bleeding and crying on the floor with blood on his face and urine staining the front of his trousers.  

Allie quickly put her knife away and left the attic. She found Michael standing in the hall, "I heard him scream," he said, his blue eyes wide with concern. "Did he hurt you again?"  

"No," Allie assured him running her finger over the fresh bruise that Theodore had put on his cheek.  

Michael's gaze turned softer, "Did you kill him?"  

Allie shook her head, "No. I wanted to but I didn't. I simply gave him something that will remind him of his wrongs and his weaknesses." Allie took his hand, "Now, let's go. We don't have much time."  

Tessa was in the entryway to the house when Allie and Michael walked through and she held out a pistol toward Allie, 'You may need this, suga'. There's lots of bad people out there."  

Allie took the gun and stuck it in the waistband of Michael's pants. His eyes widened but he said nothing. "Thank you, Tessa," she replied. "Theodore is tied up in the attic. I daresay he'll be in a foul mood and a great deal of pain when he is finally freed."  

"I am sorry he was able to get up there. I did not know he was even in the home until I heard Michael and Amelia come tearing down the steps." Tessa admitted.  

"We have to go now, Tessa," Allie urged. "Are you certain you won't be in too much trouble?"  

"No, suga'. I'll just lock myself in the cellar and let them find me there. I was nothin' but a victim myself," she smiled at her own cleverness. Then her gaze softened as she looked at Michael, "I am sorry, child, that I didn't help you sooner."  

"It's okay," Michael shrugged.  

"Goodbye, Tessa," Allie whispered and then she led Michael out into the sunlight and toward the cart where Amelia was already waiting. They had to get out of here and they had to do so quickly.

Allie had no real idea what the future held now but she had lived her whole life full of nothing but uncertainty. At least now she had Michael--he was a blessing she had never once imagined she'd find.  

Loading up into the cart, Allie gripped his hand, tightly. It was time to head out into the unknown.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Allie, I'm really tired," Amelia whimpered that night. It was several hours after dark and the trio had been stumbling along in the moonlight, trying to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the Treadwells.  

Allie wasn't too concerned that they would be pursued too adamantly--unless of course they chose to seek her out because of what she had done to Theodore; then again that would lead to the exposure of Theodore's own actions as well as risk them having it known that they'd kept their disfigured son locked in an attic for eighteen years while feeding him slop and beating him daily. Allie seriously doubted they wanted either of those things to happen.  

But it was good to put lots of distance between them just the same. Allie glanced at her sister and saw her stumble a step. She turned her gaze toward Michael, who was struggling to keep up and was limping heavily. Allie sighed. She'd pushed them enough for tonight. Truthfully, she was just as sore and dead on her feet as they seemed to be.  

"Okay, let's just get to that outcropping of rocks where we'll have some shelter from the wind and we can sleep there," Allie urged.  

With a destination in sight, the trio was able to pick up the pace a bit and, after spreading several bedrolls on the ground they happily collapsed upon them. Allie rummaged through her sack and found some of the biscuits and jerked beef she had stowed away. She dealt out a large portion for each of them since no one had eaten all day and they silently ate their meal by lantern light.  

Allie took a swig of water from the jug she'd had tied to her hip and passed the jug over to Michael as she pulled out the map and tried to assess where they were. As far as she could tell they were nearly thirty miles from Campton which meant at least another two days of walking. She had no idea if their legs would hold up that long.  

She had a moment of regret that she'd left the cart and horse behind after swatting the horses backside and sending it once again toward home. Travel would have been much easier and swifter but then she would have been branded a horse thief and that was a title she did not need.  

Allie built up a small fire, nothing too large as to attract attention, but just big enough to boil a tin of water for Michael's tea.  

"Michael, why don't you tell us a story?" Amelia asked as the tea was steeping.  

Michael shifted on his bedroll as he sat up against the rocks and frowned, "I'm not sure what story to tell...."  

Amelia clutched the doll Michael had given her tightly and sat up on her knees with a smile, "Tell me one about three brave warriors on a noble quest!"  

"Amelia, Michael is tired..." Allie scolded but Michael just shook his head and laid his hand on her arm gently.  

"I'm okay," he assured her. "I want to tell a story. Amelia likes them."  

Allie nodded and Michael launched into a tale. It was an epic one full of battles, close calls, beauty and enchantment. Allie knew he was making the story up and she was amazed as always at his ability to see such amazing things in his mind, given the life he had lived.  

She finished preparing his tea and he sipped at it as he continued the story. Amelia curled up on her bedroll and Allie covered her up with Michael's cloak before leaving the small fire. She walked to the other side of the rocks and found a path that led up onto them. Allie settled herself down on top of the largest of the boulders and could see Michael and Amelia ten feet below her. She could hear the murmuring of Michael's voice as he spoke and she let it lull her into a relatively peaceful state of mind.  

And then memories of the attic that morning came slamming into her reverie and Allie squeezed her eyes shut tight against them. Theodore's hands against her skin, the helplessness that she had felt so deep down in her soul, had simply served to bring back to life the memories of her father and the way his assault on her had stolen whatever innocence she had had. It had stolen her belief that men could be good.  

Michael had changed that. He had given her back something amazingly wonderful. He had given her back hope. Hope that maybe she wasn't as broken as she had thought. Hope that maybe she did deserve happiness and would end up happy in her life. She could certainly see herself happy spending the rest of her days with Michael and Amelia.  

Allie let her thoughts run away with her. A home, a real home, something she hadn't had in her entire life. A place full of love and laughter. Michael as her husband and Amelia growing up surrounded by such light and happiness.  

Never in her life had Allie felt butterflies in her stomach, or happy anxiety swirling in her veins but she felt it then as she imagined that future, that glimpse into what tomorrow could hold.  

She became so lost in her thoughts that she lost all track of time and only when she heard a scuffling noise behind her did she remember where she was. Fear gripped her heart a moment as she wondered what creature could be sneaking up on her in the dark. She reached toward her boot for the knife stowed there and then realized the night below her was silent.  

Glancing down, Allie realized Amelia was sound asleep beside the tiny fire and Michael was no longer sitting upon his bedroll. Blowing out a relieved breath, Allie turned her head to see him coming up the path toward her, his left leg dragging quite a bit and his movements slow.  

Quickly, Allie got to her feet and went to him, wrapping her arm around his middle and supporting some of his weight, "You didn't have to come up here, Michael. I would have come back down."  

"I wanted to be with you," he replied. They settled down together where Allie had been sitting alone moments before. She sat in front of him, nestling herself between his legs with her back and head resting on his chest and shoulder.  

"I'm sorry you're in such pain, Michael."  

"Stop worrying about me."  

"I have to worry about you. That's what you do when you love someone."  

"Exactly," concern was deep in Michael's voice. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed her hair which was messy and wild. "I'm worried about you, Allie."  

"Me?" Allie laughed off his comment. "I'm just fine, Michael. I'm used to this kind of life."  

"You shouldn't be," he countered. "And you have to stop being strong sometime. Allie, this morning...."  

"Is over," Allie quickly interrupted, not wanting to talk about it. "Last night was the first time I've truly cried in a long long time, Michael, and I do not want to do that again. Please just let it go."  

Michael sighed, "Just remember that I'm here, okay? I'm not too weak to help and I can handle more than you think."  

"I don't think you're weak, Michael, and you know that," Allie assured him, turning her head to brush a kiss to his stubble covered jaw.  

"We should get back down to Amelia and rest, Allie. Tomorrow will be another long day of walking."  

"Can we stay here?" Allie whispered. "At least a few more minutes?" She didn't want to move from her spot all wrapped up in his arms. She felt so raw and exposed and this closeness was a comfort she had never dreamed possible.

Michael kissed her ear and Allie trembled, "Of course we can," he whispered. "Allie...?"

"Hmmm?" she questioned sleepily.  

"You never got a chance to a..answer this morning when I a..asked..."  

"Don't be nervous," Allie soothed him, running her fingers over his bare forearm. "What is it?"  

"Will you marry me, Allie?"  

Allie knew she should say no. She should wait until Michael had seen more of the world and could make a more educated decision about who he wanted to spend his life with. But she couldn't. She 

wanted that future too badly to do the right thing.

She smiled as she turned her head and looked into his blue eyes, so full of love for her, "Of course I will."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Michael didn’t want to complain about the pain he was in but he was fairly certain that if he hadn’t seen Campton in the distance at that exact moment, he would have collapsed upon the grass covered ground and been incapable of taking another step.

"Is that the town we're going to?" Amelia questioned, her hopeful voice sounding just as tired and worn down as Michael felt.

"Yes," Allie assured them both and Michael could tell she was trying to keep her voice light and upbeat but even she appeared dead on her feet.  

It was close to sundown and they'd been walking steady for two days. Michael's pain would have been worse if Allie hadn't made his tea every morning and night but it was still pretty bad. His feet were unaccustomed to so much walking and they burned terribly. His legs weren't used to the abuse either and the muscles were tight and throbbing.  

His physical discomfort, no matter how severe, couldn't steal away the happiness he felt inside. Allie was going to be his wife! Michael had no idea why she had said yes but he wasn't going to argue or question. Allie was a blessing and Michael was going to hold on to her with all he had.  

Michael was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Amelia stumble and realized she was going to fall. Quickly he swooped forward and scooped her into his arms. His aching back protested the added load, his stomach churned with the pain, but he voiced no complaint and did not release her.  

"Is she okay?" Allie demanded.  

Michael glanced down at Amelia and realized the girl had snuggled against his chest and was sound asleep, "She's fine, Allie, just tired."  

"So are you," Allie noted. "Take the sack and I'll take Amelia...."  

Michael shook his head, "No, I won't do that. She weighs too much for you to pack."  

"She weighs too much for you to pack. You are in enough pain without..."  

Michael sighed and a frown tugged down his lips, "Allie,  stop treating me like I'm broken. I can carry her for this last little bit."  

Allie appeared as if she wanted to protest further but her own exhaustion had her giving in. Michael prayed he could carry Amelia all the way to wherever they were going to stay without collapsing and proving Allie right. He wanted to be strong for her. He wanted to be a real man who could take care of things without needing so much help.... He didn't want Allie to have to carry so much of the worry on her own.  

Michael was using sheer willpower alone to keep his legs moving as he followed Allie up onto a boardwalk and into a hotel. Stares were sent in his direction and he could hear whispers but he was far too tired to care or feel afraid--those things would probably come later but for now he had no energy for them.  

"Oh dear heaven! Are you three alright?"  

Michael looked up from the polished wood floor to see a gray haired woman with an over plump figure staring at them with wide gray eyes. Her hand was over her large chest and her mouth hung wide open.  

"We need a room," Allie replied quietly. "I don't have much money but we need a room, a hot meal and enough hot bathwater for three people."  

The woman looked Allie up and down and Michael gazed at her to see what the woman was seeing. Allie looked tired, pale and worn down. Her thin shoulders were slumped and dark circles were around her eyes. Her hair was lying limp around her shoulders and had several tangles and knots through the back. The cream colored blouse and brown skirt she wore was dirty and stained from the miles and miles of walking.  

"Did you walk here?" the woman whispered.  

Allie tipped her head, "Yes, ma'am." she pulled her change purse from her pocket and laid two dollars worth of coins on the counter the elderly woman stood behind. Michael knew it was two dollars worth because Allie had been teaching him about money in the evenings when they were done with their walking. "We're very tired, ma'am, will this cover it?"  

The woman did not reply. Instead her eyes went to Michael. He felt a moment of insecurity when her fearful gray eyes took in his face. He wished he could hide the scar, the oversized brow and cheek that made his eye appear sunken in and made him different from everyone else.  

Then her gaze softened when she lowered it to Amelia sound asleep against his chest, "Honey, put that money away. Y'all can have your first night, a supper and a good hot bath free of charge."  

"But..." Allie started.  

The woman shook her head and came around the counter. She put her arm around Allie's shoulder and ushered her down a long hall all the while chattering about how sometimes you just had to help people. Michael followed after them, happy that the woman hadn't led them up the staircase because his shaking legs would not have been able to climb them.  

"This is one of our nicer rooms," the woman said as she pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked a door. "There are two beds and two tubs. It's the only room we have with tubs, most of our customers have to go down to the bathhouse."  

"Thank you, ma'am." Allie offered politely.  

The woman smiled brightly with a tear in her gray eye, "You're so very welcome, dears. You seem to have come a long way and I hate to see a child so tired." she gazed at Amelia, "I will have some hot water brought to you for baths though I say we wait and let the girl take hers in the morning. I believe she is done tuckered out."  

"That'll be fine," Michael spoke up. "She needs her rest."  

"There's a changing screen plenty big enough to offer the bathers privacy from one another and when you're done just come on downstairs and I'll have some hot supper you can either eat down in the café or up in your room."  

Michael smiled, "Thank you."  

The woman tipped her head and left after depositing the key into Allie's hand. Michael stepped into the room and his eyes widened. It 

was nice. Not as extravagant as the Treadwell’s home but a paradise compared to a rock and some dirt.

Two large beds with canopies and floral bedding sat against the wall with a nightstand between them. Two large heavy wardrobes flanked a shuttered window and across the room from them was a vanity, a full length mirror and two large brass tubs with closed up changing screens beside both of them.  

Michael quickly turned away from the mirror, not wanting to accidentally see himself. He liked pretending he was handsome, and he could force himself to believe it when he saw the way Allie gazed at him. If he were to see his reflection it would ruin that fantasy he enjoyed living in.  

Michael carried Amelia to one of the beds and Allie pulled back the covers. Michael laid her down, gently removed her dirty shoes and then pulled the covers up to her chin.  

Amelia moaned, turned on her side and snuggled up to her pillows, never waking.  

"We were lucky to find such a nice woman so soon after getting here," Michael said as he turned around and then his heart swelled with love when he realized that Allie had collapsed face first against the other bed and was already snoring lightly. She was so beautiful... and her sleeping meant that she trusted him to handle things. That meant a lot to him.  

Michael opened up the sack that Allie had been carrying. The food was already gone but their change of clothes were inside and he laid all three outfits out across the arm chair and chaise lounge that were in the room. He closed his eyes and used his hands to feel his way to the mirror. He turned it around so it was facing the wall and then stepped back, satisfied that he wouldn't accidentally look into it.  

Michael gazed at his two angels sound asleep and smiled. He thought back to how drastically life had changed in the last month or so. He was no longer in the attic, he no longer got beaten and starved daily believing it to be normal, and he had them--that was the greatest blessing.  

His chest swelled with pride when he realized that he had actually spoke to a stranger today and been unafraid when he'd done so. Sure she had been a kind old lady but not long ago Michael would have never even met her gaze, let alone opened his mouth and said a word. Allie and Amelia had given him that confidence and he knew he could never really pay them back for it.  

Michael wanted to lie down beside Allie but he didn't dare. If he laid down now he wouldn't arise until morning and they had dinner and a bath coming for them.  

As if on cue there was a soft knock on the bedroom door that had Allie leaping from the bed as if ready to fight, "It's okay, Allie. I'm sure it's our water," Michael assured her calmly.  

Allie nodded and looked at him expectantly. He realized she wanted him to open the door and he swallowed hard. He didn't truly know who was out there--what if it wasn't someone with their water?  

When he saw Allie move to open the door he knew he had to do it. Holding up his hand to stop her, Michael took a deep breath and pulled open the door. He let out his breath in relief when it was only two ladies on the other side with a bucket of steaming water in each of their hands.  

Their eyes widened just slightly upon seeing Michael but other than that they gave no indication that they feared him or found him monstrous. Maybe Allie had been telling him the truth  before about him not scaring people--leaving him to wonder exactly why he'd been locked in an attic.  

"These are quite heavy," the first lady stated with a  smile . She had hair like sunset, dark freckles and was quite short, barely coming to Michael's chin and making him wonder just how tall he'd gotten over the last few weeks.  

Michael nodded before moving aside and letting them enter. They poured the four buckets into one of the tubs, filling it nicely. "We'll be right back with four more," the second lady said. She had dark hair, black as night, and clear pale skin.  

Both the women left and Michael was about to shut the door but Allie stopped him. 'Leave it open so they won't have to knock again and wake Amelia," she urged. Michael nodded and saw the exhaustion etched deep in her pretty face.  

Michael crossed the short distance separating them and took her in his arms, holding her head against his chest. He felt her hands grip his shirt and he knew she was listening to his heartbeat. Michael didn't know why it soothed her so but he knew the steady thumping rhythm seemed to help her and so he simply stood there and let her listen as long as she needed.  

"I love you, Michael," she whispered.  

"I love you too," Michael replied gently, wondering why she sounded almost desperate to tell him.  

Slowly Allie pulled away, detaching herself from him and stepping back several feet, "Go ahead and use the bath that's filled. I'll pull that curtain around you so that you have privacy."  

Michael shook his head, "No, you go ahead. I'll wait until they bring more water."  

Michael tried to read the emotions as they danced through her eyes and across her face but there were simply too many and they were too fleeting. Finally she mumbled a quick, 'okay', grabbed her clean clothes from the chair and walked to the tub. Michael sighed when she pulled the changing curtain open and placed it in front of the bath hiding herself from view.  

Michael decided it must simply be exhaustion causing her to act strangely. His aching legs made him wish those ladies would hurry and he wasn't disappointed. He waited only a few short minutes before they returned with four more buckets of steaming water, "Here you go, sir," the red-haired lady said as she poured her buckets into the tub. "When you and your 

friend are done with your bath, supper is waiting downstairs.“

Michael was already imagining just how good it was going to feel to sink his tired body into that tub of hot water. He knew it would loosen his joints and untangle the knots in his sore muscles, "She's my fiancée," he corrected the lady and a proud smile curved his lips as he said the words aloud for someone else to hear.  

"Oh..." the ladies shared a look that Michael recognized as disbelief. "Well supper is ready when you and your fiancée are finished with your baths. Who is she?" the dark haired lady asked glancing at Amelia.  

"That's Allie's sister. She's tired." Michael replied, wishing these women would leave so he could get in that water. His body hurt terribly.  

"Okay then. We'll be on our way, sir. You have a nice bath."  

Michael locked the door once the women were gone and pulled the other screen in front of his tub. He quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, proud that he could finally do buttons without too much trouble out of his hand. He slid into the bath and couldn't stop the moans that left him when that hot water instantly worked away much of his pain and stiffness.  

"Michael?" Allie's voice came from the other side of the curtains.  

"What?" Michael replied, sinking deeper.  

"I'm proud to be your fiancée,"  

Michael didn't know why but he felt tears gather behind his eyes at her admission and he was glad she couldn't see him, "And I'm proud to be yours too, Allie."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Allie was scolding herself and yet unable to shake her fears as she stood from the bath, dried herself with a soft white towel and slid into her clean underclothes and dress. Michael loved her, he had told her over and over that he did, he had shown her that he did and she had no logical reason to doubt his devotion to her....

But she did doubt it. It was scary to know that your man loved you because you were simply the first person to show him kindness. What if someone prettier, funnier, smarter, more carefree or more pure showed him kindness? Would he fall in love with them, and, if he did, could Allie truly blame him?  

The man had been locked up his entire life so how could he truly know what he wanted? The sad fact of life was that no man would choose Allie when presented with any other choice--why would he?

Allie styled her wet hair into a neat bun on the back of her head and then walked to the changing screen Michael was bathing behind, "Are you nearly finished, Michael?"  

"I don't want to get out yet," Michael replied, sounding half asleep. "It feels good."  

Despite her worries, Allie smiled. How could a person keep from smiling when speaking to Michael? Then her mood darkened.... As soon as others knew what an amazing man Michael was, Allie was certain to lose him. She couldn't compete with other women--certainly not those two downstairs who had been looking at Michael with more than just politeness.  

Allie didn't think Michael had noticed, he was too innocent to recognize the obvious glances, but Allie had noticed and she wasn't pleased.  

Allie might know that trying to hold on to Michael was futile but she'd be damned if she were going to let him go without a fight. He was the one bright spot of true and pure happiness she'd found in her entire life and she wanted him by her side. She had vowed once to move aside when the time came but she was realizing now that she would not be able to do that quite so simply.  

"I'll go get our supper then," Allie said as she walked to the door, "You go ahead and keep enjoying your bath."  

Allie left the room, closing the door quietly behind her and made her way down the hallway. She followed the scents of food to a café that was crowded with people eating their final meal of the day. There was a loud din inside the room. Utensils clanking, conversations, hollers for refills--the noise was deafening and Allie was happy that Michael had stayed in the room. He would have no doubt been overwhelmed by it all.  

Stepping to the counter, Allie recognized the gray haired woman who had been so kind to them upon arriving, "There you are!" the woman smiled welcomingly despite the chaos that seemed to be going on in the kitchen behind her.  

"The ladies that brought our bath told us to come down when we were done and get supper..."  

The woman nodded, "Of course." A man hollered out for her and the woman held up her hand, "I'm really busy, sweetheart. Why don't you just go on back in the kitchen and tell Maria what you're there for and she'll give you the meals."  

Allie nodded, thanked the woman once again and then slipped through a door into a bustling kitchen. Four people were inside. The two women who had brought the water up to their room were putting orders on plates, an elderly man was washing off the dirty dishes and a Mexican lady was frying up the steaks and potatoes and baking all the biscuits.  

Somehow Allie had remained unnoticed as she'd stepped inside. She was about to speak up and make her presence known when the conversation of the ladies reached her ears, "I've never seen anyone that looks like that before," the red-haired woman declared.  

"It's disturbing at first, that's for sure," the dark-haired beauty agreed. "But the other side of his face isn't so bad and he's tall. I like a tall man."  

"Still, that woman he's with is far too pretty for him. Sure she's thin and tired but grandma thinks they've been walking a while. She could do much better than a man with such ugly deformities." red-hair noted.  

"Maybe there's something about him we don't know," dark-hair winked. "When the lights go down and you can't see that face he might be real good between the sheets."  

The two women giggled and Allie's fists clenched. How dare they talk about Michael that way! Michael was more than simply handsome; he was the most beautiful soul and human being that God had ever created. His deep blue eyes held her captivated whenever they met hers and they looked at the world with a purity and innocence that made it impossible not to find the good. His smile lit up his face and the comfort of his arms around her made the meanness of the world fade. His heartbeat was the most beautiful sound when it thundered beneath her ear and no one in the world could ever compare, or hope to compete, with the miracle that was Michael.

Allie hadn't realized that she had said all of that out loud until the kitchen fell silent and the Mexican lady burst out laughing, "She told you two, didn't she?" she asked in a heavily accented voice. "Don't you mind those two Jezabel's, honey. They wouldn't recognize a good man if he walked up and bit them on the ass."  

The two women flushed deep with embarrassment and swallowed hard, quickly grabbing up two trays full of food and rushing from the kitchen.

"Yes, but if he simply walked up and bit their backsides then he wouldn't be a good man would he?" the old man asked with a grin as he dried his hands.  

"Some women appreciate a rough man," the Mexican countered.  

Allie shivered and tried to suppress memories of her encounters with 

rough men. She certainly wouldn’t want a man who thought that rough was good. The Mexican woman smiled at her, “What are you back here for, honey?”

"I was sent back here to get three meals from Maria. That woman..." Allie realized she didn't know her name, "Sent me back here."  

Maria nodded and within moments had three steaming plates of food on a tray and was handing it to Allie, "There you go, honey." she sat a pitcher of lemonade on the tray and Allie struggled to balance it all, "Don't you spill it now and cause those two perfect ladies you told off to have a mess to clean up."  

Maria winked and Allie found herself smiling, "Yes, that would be a shame wouldn't it."  

The old man held the door open for Allie and she somehow managed to maneuver her way through the crowd and out of the cafe without spilling the contents of her tray, though she did teeter sideways several times and have a few close calls.  

Allie sighed with relief when she made it back to the room and then realized she couldn't open the door. Hopefully Michael was done with his bath. She kicked the door gently with her foot, hoping it wouldn't wake Amelia.  

After several long seconds the door opened and Allie found herself facing Michael. His shoulder length hair was wet and dripping on his clean white shirt.  Those women's words still echoed in her head and Allie tried to look at him through a stranger's eyes but she couldn't. His brow and cheek were large, yes, but Allie could barely notice them... All she saw were his warm eyes, his happy smile, the goodness that radiated out of the man. What importance was there in a single part of his appearance? The man was 

everything .

"Let me help,' Michael quickly stepped forward and took the pitcher off the tray. Allie smiled a thank you and walked into the room, setting the tray on a small table.  

"Should we wake up, Amelia?" she asked out loud.  

"I tried," Michael admitted. "She's too tired. She can eat an extra big meal in the morning to make up for it."  

Allie nodded and grabbed two glasses off the table. She held them out and Michael filled them. "Let's sit on the bed," Allie offered and Michael nodded. They each grabbed a plate and then sat down together on the bed that wasn't quite as soft as the one at the Treadwell's but very nearly.  

"Allie, w..why do you seem sad?" Michael asked quietly several long minutes later.  

Allie frowned, "I'm not sad."  

"You seem like you are," Michael countered, his eyes looking deep into hers. "It's those women isn't it? You're still worried that I'll w..want someone else?"  

Allie didn't answer. She looked down at her plate and began picking at the potatoes on it.  

"Allie, I don't w..want anyone but you."  

"Okay," Allie whispered.  

"I'm s..serious."  

"Michael, you just don't..." Allie bit her cheek and fought back those damned tears that tried to rise in her eyes. She swallowed hard and stared hard at her plate.  

Michael dropped his fork, set his plate and hers aside and took her hands gently as he scooted closer. "I don't what?"  

"I'm not good enough for you, Michael!" Allie exclaimed, and then her every worry and insecurity came spilling from her mouth quite without her permission, "I'm not innocent, I've taken lives, I have a terrible temper and no idea how to simply be happy. Someone else is sure to come along and make you realize I'm not what you need. There are a million women in this world better for you then me. Prettier ones, softer ones, happier ones, more innocent ones, more pure...."  

Allie stopped when Michael let out a snort of laughter. She spared a glance at his face and realized he was trying to fight back his amusement but when she looked into his eyes it broke his control and he burst into laughter, the sound of it filling the quiet room and ringing happily in the air.  

Allie stared at him in shock, wondering just what the man found so damned funny.  

"Allie, t..that's ridiculous!" Michael exclaimed, slapping his knee.  

"No it's not, Michael...."  

"Yes it is. I love 

you. I love that you have been through hell and back and are still good and true and ready to do anything to defend those you love. I love that you found a beaten, skinny, worthless man in an attic and you risked so much just to bring him food because you hated to see him mistreated. I love that you took a chance on me, Allie. You gave me life….“

"I could have been anyone, Michael, that's what scares me the very most. You would feel the same about anyone who had shown you kindness."  

Michael was quiet a moment and seemed to be thinking, "That's not true." he finally said. "Tessa was nice to me but I don't want her the way I want you. The lady downstairs was nice. Those two women that came in here were nice. It doesn't matter because 

you are my angel and I want you. I want to be near you. There won’t be anyone else that is better for me.“

"Michael..."  

"No. Allie, I'm not listening anymore. You're worried that there will be another woman and all the while I'm terrified that another man is going to come along and steal you from me. One that's stronger, more worldly, more handsome..."  

"There is no one like that," Allie quickly snapped and a bright smile lit Michael's face.  

"Well alright then. And now you know exactly how I feel about your fears too."  

Allie felt her heart constrict with the amount of love she felt for this man. Was it possible that he wasn't going to find anyone else? That he loved her just as deeply and truly as she loved him? She looked in his eyes and knew the answer was yes. It had always been yes, she'd simply been too jaded to see it.  

Life had been so hard and taught her not to expect the best but maybe just this once she could?  

"How is that you know all the bad things about me, all the darkness, and yet you still want to stay beside me?" she whispered, her throat tight with the emotion of it all.  

Michael smiled and leaned forward. He brushed his lips against hers gently and laid his forehead against hers as her eyes slid closed, "That's easy. It's because I love you, Allie."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Michael woke the next morning and the first thing he realized was that he was alone in the bed. Allie's head was not resting against his heart as it had been every other morning for weeks. Loneliness filled him as he opened his eyes and glanced around.  

He wasn't just alone in the bed; he was alone in the room.

Where were Allie and Amelia?

Michael pushed himself up and then stood slowly. He could remember a time when mornings had been the worst time of day for pain but now it wasn't quite so bad. He could stand with weight on his left leg and it actually supported him. He knew it would always drag a bit and he'd have a limp but he 

was getting stronger.

Michael looked toward the door and saw a note on the table. He scratched at his stomach as he made his way over and picked it up.  

Michael,

Amelia and I went down to get breakfast and have a look around Campton. You were sleeping so soundly, and it was so early, that I hated to wake you. We should be back no later than eleven or so and we'll all go to lunch together. 

Always and Forever Yours

Allie

Michael smiled at her final words. Always and forever his. He liked the sound of that.  

With a sigh, Michael sat the note down and glanced at the clock. It was only nine. He didn't want to sit here alone for two hours. Michael bit his lip and stared at the door. Could he walk out there alone?  

Campton wasn't a big town and was smaller than the one he'd been in before so it shouldn't be too hard to find Allie and Amelia... Could he brave the outside alone until he found them? Michael walked to the window and opened the shutters. Bright sunlight met his gaze and as his eyes adjusted he began to look around at the bustling streets below.  

He saw a lot of things out that window. Men and women walking arm and arm along the boardwalk, a man pounding on metal with a hammer down the road, a woman pushing a large wheelbarrow full of what smelled like fresh baked bread, children running and laughing, dogs barking--it was overwhelming, a sensory overload, and just the thing Michael had to get accustomed to. Life.  

With a deep, shuddering breath Michael adjusted his shirt, ran his hand over his black hair and stepped to the door. His heart pounded knowing that when he stepped out this door he'd be out in the world--out where anyone and everyone could see him--and he'd be out there alone.  

With a shaking hand Michael reached out and pulled open that door before closing his eyes and taking a quick step across the threshold.  

He opened his eyes slowly and found himself alone in the long narrow hallway. Slowly he walked toward the front of the hotel, his left foot scuffling on the wooden floor as it dragged slightly behind him.  

The plump elderly woman who had been so kind the day before was sitting in a chair behind the counter reading over a newspaper. She looked up at his approach and smiled warmly, "Good morning, sir."  

"G..good morning," Michael whispered, his stutter becoming pronounced in his nervousness.

"Would you like a bit of breakfast?" the woman asked. "Allie and Amelia were down quite early to eat and I was told to ensure you got to eat this morning as well." Michael nodded slightly. He was hungry.  

He wasn't sure what he felt as the woman wrapped a gentle arm around his shoulders and led him toward the sound and smell of meals being served. It felt comforting the way she walked beside him talking sweetly, her plump body bumping into his and the lines around her friendly gray eyes deepening when she would smile. It was different from what he felt with Allie or even with Amelia. It was almost 

motherly , or at least what he had read a motherly woman could be like.

He stiffened when they entered the café and so many gazes turned in his direction as the conversations waned. Swallowing hard, Michael wished he hadn't come in here... not without Allie. He needed Allie.  

"Are you uncomfortable, darlin'?" the woman asked gently and Michael nodded. She smiled and lead him away from the crowd. They walked through a door into a small, empty room with a desk and a tiny window, "Is this better?"  

"Yes. Much." Michael admitted.  

"You sit down there and I'll go get you something to eat."  

Michael watched her waddle quickly out the door and smiled. She was very nice. The world wasn't nearly as mean as he had been raised to think it was and it made him hate his parents even more for hiding him away from it.  

Walking to the little window, Michael looked outside and realized his view was a chicken coop and a hog lot. He was still watching the animals when the woman came back several minutes later. Michael's eyes widened at the fried apples, eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy piled onto three plates on the tray.  

"I hope you're hungry," the woman exclaimed brightly as she sat the tray down. "Your fiancée and her sister seemed to be starving this morning so I thought you might be as well." she tipped her head toward the steaming cup of tea that was sitting in the corner of the tray. "Allie said you need that tea each morning to help get you up and going so I told her I would have you some brewed fresh when you came down."  

"Thank you," Michael whispered, finding himself touched beyond belief by this woman's kindness.  

He wondered how different his life would have been had he been born into a family with people like this woman, or the medicine man who had given him his tea, or even the friendly train conductor who had let him look around the engine--he knew his life would have been drastically better. Then again, maybe it wouldn't have been. If he hadn't been born to the family he had been then Allie and Amelia may not have come into it. He would suffer through the first twenty years of his life over and over again as long as it led to Amelia running into his attic in tears and Allie coming for him to protect her sister.  

The woman sat the tray down on the desk and motioned for Michael to sit. He did and she took her seat across from him, "I never did introduce myself, did I?" she tsked at her own words.  "My name is Martha and Allie tells me that you are Michael."  

"Yes, ma'am."  

Michael looked up from his food with a mouth full of fried apples and saw an odd and thoughtful expression on Martha's face. He shifted uncomfortably under her intense scrutiny.  

"Allie tells me that you are just passing through town," Martha added. Michael simply shrugged. He guessed they were doing whatever Allie said they were doing. She had more experience with the world than he did so he wasn't going to argue.  

"I hope you like my gravy, Michael. That's an old family recipe I use."  

Michael nodded as he swallowed a large bite of his gravy soaked biscuit, "It's r..real good," he stammered, still a little nervous about the way she was looking at him. She eyed him as if he were a puzzle of some sort that she needed to solve.  

"Allie didn't tell me where you all came here from. Do you mind if I ask?"  

"I don't know," Michael replied honestly. He had no idea where they'd come from other than to say 'the attic' and he was sure that Martha wouldn't know where that was either. "Can I... Can I ask you something?" he questioned, not sure where his bravery came from to speak up.  

"Of course," Martha smiled and folded her hands in her lap as she leaned back.  

"Why ha..ave you been so nice t..to us?"  Michael didn't want to make her angry but it had been on his mind. The best room free, free dinner, free baths and now breakfast in her office so he wouldn't have to be around so many people. Maybe it was normal for people to be that nice to folks they didn't know, Michael truly wouldn't know one way or the other, but he doubted it was.  

Martha looked down at her hands for several quiet moments and when she raised her gaze back to Michael's there were tears in her gray eyes, "I always try to help those in need, Michael... but my charity 

has been greater for you three. Last night the sight of that girl in your arms looking so very tired played a big role but in truth, the biggest reason is because you remind me so very much of someone.“

Michael was surprised by that. He reminded her of someone? Who? An ogre? Did she know other monstrous men? He took a drink of tea to help wash down some eggs and frowned, "Who?"  

One of those tears slipped from Martha's eyes and slid down her soft, wrinkled cheek, "It doesn't matter, Michael. There are simply a few uncanny similarities between you, even in name, but he died. He died a long long time ago."  

Michael swallowed hard, his heart beginning to race against his ribs. As far as most people knew he 

had died a long time ago. Had Martha known him? And if so, how?

Before Michael could ask, there was a knock on the door and it opened. The dark-haired woman who had brought the bathwater up the night before entered the room and when she saw Michael, her cheeks turned red and she averted her gaze quickly, "Grandma, the mail was up so I brought yours to you."  

"Thank you, Sarah. You may go back into the kitchens now." Martha's tone was more critical and harsh than Michael expected and he wondered why she was mad at Sarah.  

"Yes, ma'am," Sarah quickly tossed the envelopes onto the desk, tipped her head and left the room in a rush.  

Martha sighed, "So, Michael, I trust breakfast is to your satisfaction?" she asked, that warm smile coming back to her lips.  

Michael nodded but his mind was elsewhere. He stared down at that envelope on the desk and felt his hands begin to shake. The room tilted a bit and fear bubbled deep down in his gut.

Strange how a single name could cause so much terror and confusion. That seemingly innocent envelope, nothing but creased paper laying upon a desk, had him wanting to flee from this room, this hotel, this town.  

There on the center of that envelope was a name that told him the truth about the woman sitting across from him.  

Martha Treadwell

Chapter thirty

Chapter Thirty

Allie could hardly contain her excitement and was ready to get back to the hotel and give Michael the gifts that she had found for him. While she hadn't had money to buy him anything, Allie had managed to get some scrap lumber from the sawmill for free and the post office clerk had given her a few scrap sheets of paper. The only thing she'd been unable to find were any pencils but thankfully there was one in their hotel room.  

Allie knew how much Michael loved to carve and so he would be able to do that with the scrap wood and her knife, and he would even be able to do a bit of drawing and see how he liked that.  

"Hopefully he hasn't already carved your name and little hearts into the hotel walls," Amelia teased as they stepped through the hotel door and into the entryway.  

Allie rolled her eyes, "I'm sure he hasn't, I talked to him about carving on walls. And even if he were going to carve something, I'm sure he wouldn't waste his time on my name and a few hearts."  

Amelia snickered, "I doubt he'd see it as a waste of time. He's in looooove with you, remember?"  

Allie was unable to stop the glow of happiness that she was certain shone out of her. Yes, she remembered. Michael loved her, even the bad things about her, and for that Allie was beyond grateful.  

The sisters were just about to head down the hall to their room when Martha came bustling out of the café and toward them with a look of complete worry on her face, "Allie, thank heaven you're back!"  

"What's wrong?" Allie demanded. "Has something happened to Michael?"  

Martha nodded and wrung her hands, "I have no idea what came over the man. We were sitting in my office talking, he was eating his breakfast, and then suddenly this look of terror just came over him and he shoved himself to his feet and ran away as quickly as he could. He went to your room and locked the door and wouldn't answer when I knocked... I could have used my spare key and opened it but I didn't want to scare him more. I truly don't know what happened to him."  

Allie didn't waste time listening anymore. She raced toward their hotel room and unlocked the door quickly, "Michael?" she called when she entered and didn't see him.  

"Allie?" his whispering voice came from behind a changing screen and Allie closed the bedroom door after Amelia had entered.

 Allie dropped her gifts for Michael into the chair beside the door and walked to the screen he was behind, "Michael, why are you hiding? What's wrong?"  

"It's n..not safe here," Michael's voice was shaking.  

Allie slipped around the curtain and her heart hurt when she saw him sitting on the floor, leaning back against the copper tub with his arms wrapped around his knees. Allie dropped to her knees beside him and took his face in her hands. His blue eyes were wide and his face had paled considerably.

 "Why isn't it safe? What happened? Did Martha do something to you?" Anger flared to life inside Allie. If that woman had done something to hurt Michael she would pay dearly for it.  

"She's one of 

them. “ Michael whispered earnestly. “She’s one of those monsters.”

Allie was confused, "What monsters?"  

Michael licked his lip and his gaze flicked to the left when Amelia came around the curtain as well, "She's a Tr..Treadwell."  

Aware that her heart seemed to have ceased beating, Allie swallowed hard and shared a look of shock with her sister. Martha was a Treadwell? That didn't have to mean that she was related to Michael's family--but given the proximity of this town to their house it certainly seemed likely.  

Allie dropped her hands from Michael's face and let out a long breath, "Michael, are you sure? How do you know?"  

Michael nodded and looked back and forth between Allie and Amelia, "I'm sure. I saw h..her mail. It said M..Martha Treadwell."  

Allie knew what she had to do even if she wished she didn't. Standing slowly, she turned to Amelia who seemed a good mixture between worried and confused, "Amelia, you stay here with Michael."  

Michael shook his head and shoved himself to his feet, "Where are you going?"  

"I'm going to go talk to Martha."  

"I want to go with you," Michael countered, though his shaky tone sounded anything but sure.  

"Yeah, I want to go too," Amelia agreed with a nod.  

Allie sighed, "How about I see if she has time to come in here and talk to us then?" Allie knew that if Martha proved to be a threat then she would have to be dealt with. The only problem would be choosing how to deal with her.  

Michael and Amelia both nodded at the compromise and Allie left the room to find Martha still standing beside the entryway and looking just as worried as she'd seemed before.  

"Allie, please tell me what is going on," Martha pleaded with desperation, "He looks like my Michael, and he has the same name, but he can't be my Michael. My grandson died eighteen years ago. Who is that man?"  

Allie took a moment to let her head wrap around this new knowledge. A grandmother. Michael had a grandmother. Now she had to determine if this woman was friend or foe. Given the true devastation and confusion on the woman's face, Allie felt it safe to guess that she had not known Michael was alive and in that attic. The true kindness the woman had shown her, Michael and Amelia, as well as the tears staining her cheeks now led Allie to also believe that this woman was different than her son and his monster of a wife.  

In a move that was very out of character for her, Allie decided to trust the woman, "No, Martha, you're wrong. Your grandson did not die eighteen years ago. He's alive, he's healthy and he's back in the bedroom right now."  

---

Michael sat on the edge of the bed with Allie beside him, her hand clutched tightly in his, and stared at the woman standing beside the window.  

His family.  

His grandmother.  

Tears were streaming from her gray eyes and she hadn't ceased pacing since entering the room nearly ten minutes ago. Not much had been said in that time. Each time Martha looked Michael's way she would simply begin to cry and pace more quickly.  

"Are we gonna sit here all day or are we going to talk?" Amelia finally asked with an impatient sigh from where she was sprawled on the chaise lounge.  

Martha took a deep shaking breath and then walked closer to Michael. He couldn't keep himself from cringing back a bit and leaning into Allie, "Michael, is that really you? Oh, my poor baby.... I didn't know. How are you alive? They said you were dead. I was at your funeral!"

"I d..didn't die. They l.locked me in the attic," Michael whispered, without meeting her gaze. Allie's hand gave his a reassuring squeeze.  

"But why? Why would they do that to you?" Martha implored.  

"They were ashamed of m..me. I scared p..people,' Michael replied, wishing he could stop that stutter in his words. His heart was racing as he worried that Martha would prove to be just like Ma'am, or that she would tell Ma'am where to find him.

"Those 

monsters !“ Martha hissed, her sudden show of temper surprising him.

"How didn't you know?" Allie demanded. "All these years you never went there and realized that something was off?"  

Martha shook her head as she sat down hard in the arm chair near the bed, "I don't know my son. I haven't seen him nor any of that family since Michael's funeral. I used to go there so often before then just to get to play with Michael and spend time with him. He was such a blessing and this bright spot of light in my life. Jonathon did not bother with Michael and kept Theodore with him during my visits so I never got to know my other grandson much. And Michael was always with his nanny, Harriot, because Cordelia, his mother, was an angry, mean, vain woman who didn't want to be bothered with the son she considered 

tainted .“

Michael felt the pain from those words deep in his heart but he tried to push that aside and focus instead on what she had said first. He had been a blessing and bright spot to her. There was at least one member of his family who didn't see him as a monster who had ruined their lives. She had loved him once--maybe she loved him still?

"You l..loved me?" he whispered.  

"Oh, Michael, of course I did! I still do!" Martha insisted as she pushed herself up and rushed to him. She dropped to her knees on the floor in front of him and her sagging chin wobbled as she fought back tears, "Michael, you were my little angel. I would come several times a month just to see you and the smile that would light up your beautiful face."  

Michael felt wetness on his cheeks and realized he was crying as he stared into those warm gray eyes that seemed so familiar somehow. He knew he couldn't possibly remember her from that long ago but her eyes comforted him just the same.  

"I just don't understand why they would lock you away and say you died," Martha whispered, searching his eyes for answers he couldn't give her. "If they hadn't wanted you then surely they knew I would have brought you home with me in a heartbeat. I would have given you a real home, a real life with love and happiness instead of that horrible house with no one who truly cared about you other than a paid nanny."  

"Harriot was good to me," Michael said quickly. "She took care of me in the attic until she left and never came back one day."  

"I'm sure she was," Martha soothed. She wrapped Michael in a sudden hug that made him swallow hard as his heart swelled. "But why were you in that attic?" Martha asked again as she pulled away and remained crouched there in front of him.  

"I can answer that," Allie spoke. Her voice was far away and Michael realized she was no longer beside him on the bed. When had she let go of his hand and why hadn't he noticed? She was standing beside the door and her expression was guarded and impossible for him to read.

"Then answer it, please," Martha pleaded.  

"His mother was a danger to his life. She hurt him badly, that's where his scar came from. His father didn't want to be bothered with him but yet didn't want the scandal getting around that his wife was a monster who had mental issues and would hurt their son and so he faked Michael's death, paid money to whoever needed hushed, and locked the boy in the attic with a nanny."  

"Bunch of brain addled idiots," Amelia added from her perch.  

Michael stared at Allie in shock, "How do you know that?"  

Allie's gaze softened a bit, "Tessa told me."  

"Why didn't you tell me?" Michael questioned, hurt pushing its way through his happiness.  

"Because knowing just how evil they were would not have helped you, Michael, and all I cared about was helping you. I'm telling you now."  

Michael's felt his hurt vanish. He couldn't be angry or hurt by Allie looking out for him. He knew that she loved him with all her heart and anything she did, she did because she felt it was best for him.  

"Do they know that you're gone?" Martha asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room while Allie and Michael simply held each other's gaze.

Michael's brow furrowed as he looked back to Martha; his grandmother. "Yes," he replied. "Yes they know we're gone." He spared a glance at Allie, unsure how much he was supposed to tell.  

She nodded and stepped forward, "We snuck away. Amelia and I were not supposed to know that Michael existed. We were supposed to stay away from the attic. Amelia has never been one to follow the rules and she found him up there. Dirty, thin, weak and being fed nothing but pig slop while the world went on without him. I was going to sneak him away under the Treadwell's noses but thankfully they went on vacation and it gave me time to get Michael from the attic, allow him to build a bit of strength and then leave with us."  

"Thank God." Martha grunted as she pushed herself up to stand and went to Allie. "And thank you for saving my grandson!" Martha wrapped her in a bone crushing hug and Michael smiled. Allie was stiff with the show of affection from the woman and she appeared as if she wanted to be anywhere but in that hug. It made him smile because she wasn't like that with him. With him she seemed to truly love his touch.  

Martha pulled away and then frowned as she looked around at the three of them, "But why did you have to run away with nowhere to go? Why are you clearly scared that they will track you down?"   

"What makes you think we're scared of that?" Allie asked cautiously.  

"My dear, old does not mean stupid, it means wise. That was real fear in your eyes when you realized who I was just as it was real fear in Michael's. Are those people a danger to you?"  

"You mean your own son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren?" Allie demanded.  

Martha laid her hand over her full chest and swallowed hard as she nodded, "Yes those people are my blood though I do not claim them... But Theodore, Jacob and Peter, what have they done?"  

Michael saw Allie's face pale a bit as her spine stiffened, "Peter and Jacob beat Michael very nearly to death with wooden sticks just before the family left on vacation and Theodore... Theodore tried to hurt us both and I'm afraid it did not end well for him."  

Martha took several steps back and it was clear that she wasn't sure what to think as she eyed Allie nervously, "Did you kill him? Did you kill Theodore?"  

"Don't act like it would be a great loss," Amelia snorted. "The man had her skirts, up, her face smashed against a wooden crate and was preparing to shove himself inside her whether she wanted him to or not!"  

Michael felt anger fill him at that reminder and Allie quickly whirled around and pointed her finger at Amelia, "You'll learn not to run that mouth so, little sister, and to not talk that way! There are certain things that no one needs to know!"  

"I don't care if she knows," Amelia shrugged. "That whole family is rotten. I wish I had killed him with that skillet to the head."  

Allie sighed with defeat and her shoulders drooped, "I taught the man his lesson," she whispered.  

"God in heaven, if I had ever imagined that my family was that 

evil …“ Martha once again fell down very hard in the chair. “I am sorry for the way you people have suffered at their hands. Please allow me to try to make that up to you. Stay here with me. They will not hurt you, I won’t allow it. My son has not spoken to me in years and years. I knew there was something cold in him and I knew that Cordelia was evil but to think that it passed to even their children….”

"All except Michael," Allie said, her smile gracing Michael and making his heart beat a bit faster. Though he couldn't help but think the smile looked a bit guarded and even a little sad.  

"Yes, all except our Michael." Martha stood and went to the bed. She sat down beside Michael and took his hand, "You'll have everything you need here, Michael. You'll finally have a family; a real family. You have a grandmother and cousins. We will give you a real home, Michael. You can stay with me for as long as you'd like and....."  

Michael's eyes were wide as he listened to Martha go on and on about finally having a family and home. He was happy but overwhelmed. He needed to know what Allie thought. He wanted her next to him and holding his hand just as she had promised she always would.  

Michael glanced to the door and instantly leapt to his feet, silencing Martha mid-sentence.  

The bedroom door was open and Allie was gone.

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-One

Panic welled up inside Michael. His heart thundered so violently against his ribs that it hurt and his entire body shook.

Where was Allie? Why had she left him?

"Allie!" he yelled as he raced toward the door. He ran so quickly that he forgot about his left leg's lameness and it became tangled up in the rug on the floor. Michael was knocked off balance and his body pitched forward. Pain radiated throughout him as he slammed against the floor and blood filled his mouth.  

"Michael!" he heard Martha cry out but he didn't care about her. All he could think of was Allie. Why had she left? Where was she?  

"Allie!" he cried out even more loudly as he struggled to get to his hands and knees.

Why wouldn't she come when he called for her?  

"Michael, calm down," Amelia's voice broke through his fear and panic. Amelia was here.. Allie would never leave for good without Amelia.  

"Allie? I n..need Allie. Where did sh..she go?" Michael whispered as Amelia helped him to his feet.  

"I don't know," Amelia admitted, her brown eyes, so much like Allie's, darting to the door and then back to his face. "But I'll go find her. You stay here with Martha."  

Michael couldn't explain the pure panic he was still feeling inside. The sight of Amelia had ebbed it some but still it lingered there, clawing and pacing inside of him. He shook his head as he pulled away from Amelia, "I'll find her."

"Michael, you don't need to go out there right now, you're too worried," Amelia countered calmly. "I'm sure she didn't go far. She wouldn't leave without me."  

"But why did she leave me?" Michael whispered. "Why would she go when she said she would stay?"  

Amelia offered him a sad little smile that did nothing to ease his worried mind, "I don't know but I'll find out, okay? Stay here with Martha."  

Michael could do little more than nod as Martha put her arm around his shoulders and led him back to the bed. He sat down hard and watched Amelia dash out of the room, closing the door behind her.  

"Are you okay, Michael?" Martha questioned with concern as she laid the back of her hand over his head as if checking for fever.  

"No," he replied honestly. "I n...need her. Why did she leave?"  

Martha shook her head, "I have no idea, Michael. You know her much better than I do."  

Michael felt overwhelmed and terrified. If Allie was beside him he could force himself to face anything but without her....? Whimpering, Michael reached for the blanket and wrapped it around himself, covering his head and pulling it tight as if it were his cloak.  

"What are you doing?" Martha inquired with confusion.  

"I'm s..scared," Michael whispered.  

"There's no need to be scared," Martha assured him. "I'm with you."  

 He chewed his lip and simply stared at that door, praying that at any moment Allie would come running back through.  

---

Allie's feet carried her quickly over the rutted streets. Her eyes were blinded by hot, unshed tears. She had no idea where she was going, no idea where her legs were taking her, all she knew was that she had to run.  

Allie's foot caught on a deep rut made by a stagecoach and she went down hard on the ground. She saw a man rushing forward to help her and scrambled to her feet before he could reach her, once again darting off.  

Pain radiated from her ankle and that was all that made her cease her rushing and dash down an alley. She sat down beside some shipping crates, pulled her knees into her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and cried.  

Allie had never been a woman who cried. The tears that she had shed in the attic with Michael while telling the story of her life had been the first real hard cry she'd allowed herself since she'd been thirteen years old. But she cried now.  

She had lost Michael. He had a family, a real family, and that dream family she had created in her mind would never happen. Michael would stay here with his grandmother and Allie would be forgotten. She had no place here just as she had never had a place anywhere. Allie had known this would happen, had known that sooner or later Michael would find something better than her and she had known it would hurt... she just hadn't realized it would hurt this bad.  

She couldn't ask him to leave family behind and surely they would not want her here--no family had ever wanted Allie to be a part of it. Her own family and six years in an orphanage had taught her that.  

Allie loved Michael. She loved him so much that her heart hurt with it. She wanted what was best for him and that was Martha and the stability she could provide. No more sleeping on hard rocks and waking up barely able to move the next morning or going without meals.  

Allie trembled and cried harder, her body quaking with the intensity of her silent sobs as she buried her face in her skirt. It was impossible to say how long she sat there lost in despair over the unfairness of life. Time seemed to lose its meaning as she cursed life for giving her such a man only to rip him away from her.  

"Down here she is," a man's voice reached Allie's ears, breaking through her sorrow, and Allie's head snapped up. Through tear-filled, burning eyes Allie saw the man who had attempted to help her up on the street leading Amelia into the alley that Allie had taken cover in.  

"Allie!" Amelia cried when she caught sight of her. Her younger sister rushed to her and dropped to her knees at her side. "Allie, are you okay?" Amelia snorted, "Well of course you're not! That was a ridiculous question, wasn't it?"  

"I'm fine, Amelia," Allie tried to reassure her.  

"I saw her fall," the man spoke up.  "I think she might have hurt herself."  

Allie shook her head but had no time to speak before Amelia was speaking, "She must have. Allie, what did you hurt? I've never seen you cry before.... Why did you run away?"  

Amelia's brown eyes were full of worry as she scanned over Allie. Allie sighed as she worked her ankle and then winced with pain, "My ankle. I hurt my ankle," she admitted, though it wasn't the pain from that joint that had her in tears.  

"Sir, help me get my addle brained sister off the ground, please?" Amelia requested of the man still standing in the alley.  

He was a harmless enough looking man with his wire rimmed glasses, small build and truly concerned expression but Allie was not thrilled with the contact as he nodded, came forward and placed his arm under hers to help hoist her to her feet. The truth was that there was only one man whose touch did not cause her fear or discomfort of any kind.  

Allie wanted to insist that she could walk alone but her ankle was truly in terrible pain and she feared she could not. She was forced to accept the man's help and she realized that Amelia was leading them directly back to the hotel.  

"Amelia..." Allie began but Amelia glared back at her.  

"Don't start with me, Allie. You're going straight back to that room. Michael fell apart and lost his mind when he realized you were gone. I worked too hard to help put you two together to have you running away now."  

Allie bit her lip and remained silent. Amelia was more stubborn than Allie preferred though the girl came by it naturally if Allie's own stubbornness was any indication.  Then Allie thought about what Amelia had said and felt a single tear slip from her swollen eye and run down her already tear-stained cheek. She never wanted to be the reason for Michael's pain.  

Allie swallowed hard as they approached the closed door to the room she'd just run from not too long ago. Amelia knocked once before opening the door and Allie felt her heart nearly tear right from her chest when she saw the blanket covered lump against the headboard of the bed and knew it was Michael.  

"Allie, what on earth happened to you?!" Martha exclaimed as the man who was helping Allie, got her to the chaise lounge and helped her to sit.  

"I... fell," Allie replied quietly. She saw the blanket covering Michael shift and his blue eyes looked out from beneath it.  

"Are you hurt child?" Martha questioned.  

"Her ankle is," Amelia spoke up.  

"Thank you for helping her, Giles," Martha walked to the man who had helped Allie to walk back "Would it be too much trouble to ask you to fetch the doc and send him this way?"  

"Of course not," Giles tipped his hat to the women, spared a curious glance at Michael and then left the room.  

Martha motioned for Allie to remove her boot and Allie sighed as she began to undo the laces. She nearly cried out with pain and had sweat dotting her brow by the time she slid the boot off of her swelling ankle.  

"I believe it's only a sprain," Martha stated after several moments of close examination. "Prop it up here on the chaise and the doctor will be able to tell us for sure."  

Allie did as the woman said and then Martha sat down beside her, causing the chaise lounge to creak beneath them, "Now, you are going to tell me exactly why you went running out of here without so much as an explanation as to where you going. Poor Michael was beside himself with worry for you!"  

"I'm... I'm sorry," Allie whispered, unwilling to bare her heart and soul with a woman she barely knew.  

Martha's gray eyes narrowed and her papery lips became a thin line, "Oh no you don't. Don't you clam up and refuse to speak to me," she snapped, wagging her finger, "You aren't the first stubborn girl I've had in front of me, missy, and I'm certain you won't be the last! Now you're going to answer my question."  

Allie had no idea what to say. She'd never been scolded like this before. Martha didn't sound mean or harsh, instead she simply sounded concerned and almost as if she actually 

cared .

"She ch..changed her mind," Michael's sad voice whispered from the bed. Allie looked his way to realized he'd dropped the blanket and was now simply sitting there looking more dejected and sad than she had ever seen him, "She doesn't w..want to marry m..me. It's okay. I understand."  

The sad smile he tried to muster broke Allie's heart. She shook her head with passion and pushed herself onto her good foot. Hopping and limping Allie made her way quickly to the bed and dropped to her knees in front of him.  

"Michael, that's not true at all!" she assured him quickly as she took his hands in hers.  

"Then why did you leave?" he asked, his blue eyes looking deep into hers. Allie would swear the man could see clear down into her soul when he looked at her that way.  

"Because you have a place here, Michael. You have a true family which is something I can't give you. I could never ask you to choose...."  

"Choose?" Martha spoke up. Allie glanced at the old woman and saw her still sitting on the lounge with her arms crossed under her massive bosom. "Why would Michael have to choose?"  

Allie frowned, "Because you offered him a home and..."  

"No, I was offering all three of you a home. I expect you and your sister to stay as well."  

Martha might as well have admitted to Allie that life from other planets had just touched down and offered to take them to luncheon. She stared at the older woman, mouth agape, and simply tried to wrap her head around what she had said.  

"You 

want me to stay?“

"Why wouldn't I?" Martha seemed just as confused as Allie.  

"Because no one ever has....." Allie whispered before she could stop herself.  

Martha's gray eyes softened and Allie felt Michael squeeze her hands, "I want you to stay," he whispered.  

"Allie, you are Michael's fiancée and you made him promises, promises that this grandmother won't tolerate being broken. And do you know what I think? I think you don't really want to break them. I think you truly love that man you are in front of right now and I believe that you need a home and a family just as badly as he does."  

Allie looked back into Michael's eyes and smiled, "I do love you, Michael. I love you so much."  

"If I had to pick, I would pick you," Michael told her and Allie swallowed hard. She didn't know what to say and so she said nothing, merely pulled the knotted knuckles of his right hand to her mouth and kissed them tenderly.  

"Glad we got all that settled," Amelia muttered, glancing out the window. "It looks like the doc's on his way."  

Allie turned her attention back to Martha. The idea that this woman would simply take her in and accept her as family was so foreign a concept that Allie couldn't quite wrap her head around it. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry I acted so strangely. I just..."  

"Darling, don't you ever apologize for your fears and your feelings because you can't control either one of them," Martha countered, pushing herself to her feet and walking over to Allie and Michael. "You saved my grandson's life and you have made him so happy, even I can see that. The way he looks at you," Martha wiped a tear from her eye, "It is breathtaking, child, and you look right back at him the same way. You need each other. Life has been hard to you both, I can tell that much, and you can help each other heal from that. There's no doubt in my mind about that."  

Allie had no time to think up a response because the doctor, a middle aged man with a thin mustache, watery brown eyes and graying brown hair stepped into the room.  

It only took several minutes for the doctor to announce that her ankle was sprained. He advised cool compresses, bed rest and elevation and assured them that he would bring over a set of crutches. Allie had no idea how she was supposed to simply rest for two weeks while it healed. She had never in life rested for more than a couple of hours at a time!  

Once the doctor had left and Allie was settled in the bed, propped against Michael's chest, Martha walked to the door and signaled for Amelia to follow her, "Now, we'll give you two some privacy. Remember what I said, Allie, you are very much a part of this family now."  

Allie smiled and nodded as Martha and Amelia walked out and closed the door behind them.  

"I was scared," Michael whispered, his voice washing over her. "I thought you had left me forever."  

"I'm sorry, Michael. I was scared. I thought I had lost you. I've never been part of a family before... not a family that wanted me anyhow. I didn't realize I could be a part of this one with you."  

"Don't do that again," Michael's voice was stern and it made Allie smile, "Don't you walk out like that again. I can't do this without you, Allie."  

Allie turned her head and kissed the bottom of his jaw, "I won't, Michael. I swear that to you. I learned something when I was in that back alley sobbing."  

"What?" Michael asked, his arms tightening around her.  

"I can't do this without you either."

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Is it wrong to say I'm happy you sprained your ankle?" Michael asked three days later as he and Allie sat together on a bench behind the hotel. There wasn't any foot traffic back beside the pig pen and the chicken coops and Michael liked being able to sit outside and yet still feel alone with Allie.  

"Yes, Michael, I think it is," Allie laughed lightly. "Why are you happy that I'm in pain?"  

Michael shook his head and laid the pencil he'd been sketching with on his lap before taking her hand, "I'm not happy you're in pain but I like spending this time with you."  

Michael's heart sped up when the bright smile lit Allie's beautiful face and she laid her head on his shoulder, "And I love spending time with you," she replied, adjusting her leg which was propped up on a bucket to keep her foot elevated.  

"Do you need anything?" Michael questioned. He was enjoying being more of a caretaker for Allie. It was a good change of roles seeing as how she was always working so hard to take care of him and Amelia.  

"No, I'm okay," Allie promised. She pointed at the leather bound sketchpad that Martha had bought for Michael, "That looks really good, Michael."  

Michael looked down at the pig he was sketching. It was a baby piglet with a butterfly on its snout. They had seen that very scene less than an hour before and Michael had laughed and wanted to capture it.  

He found he loved to draw and his favorite things to draw were scenes and moments that made him smile. His favorite drawing he had yet to show Allie. It was a drawing of her face, the way it looked every morning as she lay against his chest; her lips curved in a hint of a smile, her eyelashes fluttering atop her cheeks and her hair mussed.  

"Do you think Amelia will like it?" Michael asked, knowing he planned on giving her the pig drawing.  

"I think she most certainly will. We'll need to get her a frame to put it in so it stays nice."  

Michael frowned, "Where can we buy one?"  

Allie lifted her head from his shoulder, "How about we take a walk to the carpenter's shop? He'll surely have enough scrap lumber he doesn't need to make a frame and you and I can make one together."  

"You want me to go into town?" Michael whispered.  

"You've done it before in an even bigger town than this one," Allie reminded him. "You have to go out among people eventually, Michael. You cannot simply stay locked away at this hotel. It is a nicer prison than that attic, for sure, but it will become a prison just the same."

Michael knew Allie was right but that didn't make him any more eager to be walking around the streets of town. Already he'd realized that not everyone was as mean as the Treadwell's had been but not everyone was as nice as Martha, Allie and Amelia either.  

His cousins, Sarah and MaryBeth, who worked in the hotel, were not cruel or mean but they seemed to avoid him. He suspected that looking at him made them uncomfortable and he could understand why.  

Martha told him he had more family in town, more cousins, but she hadn't told any of them about him yet. She wanted to give him time to adjust before letting too many people know that he was truly alive and well and in town.  

"You'll be with me, right?" Michael asked, feeling no shame over the fact that he needed her with him. A man who was courting MaryBeth had laughed at Michael just yesterday and insisted that a real man did not depend on a woman but Michael didn't believe that. He didn't care what other men, and the story books, might have to say about men being heroes--Michael was a man but he was no hero. The hero in his life was Allie.  

"Of course I'll be with you," Allie smiled and kissed his cheek which he had just shaved that morning. "I'm going stir crazy just sitting around all day. It will do me good to get out and about."  

That settled it for Michael. While he wasn't very eager to go out among the people here, he would do anything for Allie. If getting away from the hotel and walking around town is what she needed to do then he would do it with her.  

"Let's go then," he replied. He stood and turned. He wrapped his hand around Allie's upper arm gently and helped pull her to her feet as she adjusted her crutches.  

"I really think I could walk without these," she grumbled.  

"The doctor said if he catches you doing that again he'll chain you to the bed. He said you 

have to have them if you’re going to insist on walking,“ Michael warned her, quoting the doctor nearly word for word. Doctor Walker had caught Allie the day before attempting to walk through the hotel with no crutches and had not been happy with the discovery.

"Yes, yes, yes. You sure are getting bossier by the day," she mumbled grumpily and Michael smiled. Allie was testy but he understood why. She was a person who valued being able to take care of herself and everyone else around her. Having an injury that slowed her down simply wasn't something she was dealing with very well.  

Michael felt that familiar tingling of fear in his mind as they walked along the side of the hotel toward the main street of town. He wondered if there would ever come a day when the thought of being out among people didn't cause his heart to pound in his chest. 	

Allie pointed to a small building with a bell atop a hill to the right of the hotel, "There's the school house. I'm grateful that your aunt got Amelia enrolled there. She's never attended a real school before."  

"She likes it too," Michael stated. "She was teaching me numbers last night and saying she wanted to be a school teacher like the one she has."   

"And I want that for her," Allie replied. "I want her to have everything she wants in life."  

"I have what I want," Michael whispered before leaning over and kissing Allie's hair. It still amazed him just how much taller he was now. The hump in his back was all but gone and he could stand completely straight. Allie had once been the same height, if not a bit taller than he was, but now he towered over her. Allie said he was at least six feet and several inches tall.  

	 Michael saw a blush color Allie's cheeks and her lips curved in a happy smile, "And I have more than I could have ever dreamed possible."  

Michael knew she was talking about more than just him. She was also talking about family and a home. While he hoped one day they would have their own house, the hotel was a nice home for them as well. They had moved into a smaller room and Amelia had her own room that adjoined their's through a door in the wall. Martha was teaching Allie to quilt and knit and Allie seemed to truly enjoy the hours the two women spent laughing and talking.  

Michael was so busy thinking about the changes in his and Allie's lives that he didn't realize they were now walking down main street until a man saying 

‘good morning’ as he passed by caught his attention.

"Good morning," Michael called back, though the man had already continued on his way.  

"Are you okay, Michael?" Allie asked.  

"Yes," Michael answered honestly. "I think I am."  

Together they walked down the street and Michael took in the scenery. People, animals, laughing, talking, working, the world was full of chaos all around him but he didn't find it quite as overwhelming as he had the first time he'd been among it. While he would prefer to be somewhere quiet with just Allie, he could handle the commotion for a while to give her what she needed out here.  

"There's the carpenters shop," Allie pointed across the road.  

Michael nodded and helped her down off the boardwalk. They started across the road and four men on horseback came galloping around a corner. They were charging forward and paying no attention to anyone that might be in their way.  

Michael froze momentarily as those thousands of pounds of horseflesh and hooves pounded toward them. Allie cried out and fell as she tried to hurry out of the way and her crutch caught on a rock in the road.  

The men seemed to realize they weren't going to move but it was too late for them to stop. Michael threw himself down on top of Allie, shielding her body her with his and waited for the pain that would undoubtedly come.  

It never came.  

Instead the horses went around them as the men cried out. Dust filled Michael's nostrils and he could feel the heat from the horses bodies all around him. The pounding of the hooves stopped and Michael could tell they were surrounded by snorting, panting horses and men. Boot steps pounded in the dirt around them.  

"Did we kill 'em?!" one man cried out.  

"Shit, I hope not!"  

"Hey, are you two okay?" yet another demanded.  

"What the holy hell do you numbskulls think you're doin'?!" another voice boomed.  

"Shit, Pete, it was an accident."  

"You boys were a damned accident! Certainly your mama didn't mean to bring four idiots out of her womb and into this world!"  

'Michael, you can get off of me now," Allie urged with a grunt.  

Michael was nearly frozen with fear but the pain in Allie's voice broke through that fear and had him moving off of her and standing slowly. He reached out and helped her to stand, keeping one arm wrapped tight around her as he took in the sight around them.  

Four men were looking sheepish, a bit pale and very sorry as they stood holding the reins of their snorting horses. Several townspeople were standing in the distance watching the scene but the most imposing sight was the man standing directly in front of Michael with his arms crossed over his chest and a look of anger on his face as he looked at the men who had nearly run them over.  

"C'mon, Pete, that wasn't very nice! We didn't mean to almost hit them!" one of the four men insisted.  

"What were you doing speeding around that way in the middle of town in the middle of the mornin'? Were you're damned britches on fire or somethin'?" Pete demanded with a shake of his head.  

Michael was shaking with fear. He didn't like this yelling and all this attention around him. Allie, however, let out a laugh at Pete's statement.  

The five men turned in her direction and the one who had insisted Pete wasn't nice stepped forward with his hat in his hands, "I'm real sorry, miss. We was just havin' a bit of a race. We didn't mean to almost hurt nobody."  

"Yeah, yeah!" Pete shoved him back and pointed down the road, "Y'all get on back to your damn ranch now and be glad I don't tell your mama what you've been doing!"  

"Aw shit, Pete!" One of the other men exclaimed. "Don't do that! Ya know how ornery mama can get!"  

"Then get along!" Pete urged.  

It seemed the men didn't need to be told any more times than that. They muttered apologies, hopped on their horses and then made their way, much more slowly, back down the road out of town.  

"Hey there, folks, my name is Pete Hawkins. I'm the unofficial sheriff and official carpenter here in Campton," The man turned to face them directly for the first time and his eyes widened as he took in the sight of Michael, "Well aren't you an interestin' piece of work," he grinned.  

"Excuse me?" Allie snapped, her voice like ice.  

Michael shifted and let his hair fall over his face.  

Pete shook his head, "Calm down there, pretty lady, I didn't mean nothin' by what I said. I happen to be pretty interestin' myself," Pete held up his hand to reveal six fingers, "Most folks in my family can only count to ten but I can count all the way to eleven," he winked, "Makes my folks so proud."

Michael laughed and it surprised him. It seemed to surprise Allie too as she moved closer to him and he kissed her hair. This man, Pete, seemed nice, and Michael felt comfortable standing here talking to him now that the crowd had left.  

"I'm real sorry y'all about got flattened. Those Malcom boys are a regular ol' pain in the ass," he tipped his head to Allie, "Pardon my language, of course."  

"Of course," Allie agreed. "You said you were the unofficial sheriff?"  

Pete nodded, "We don't have any official law out here. I guess you could say that Campton isn't quite important enough to be funded by the state, but most folks around here listen to what I say. Probably because I talk mean. I'm real gentle at heart," he winked and Michael laughed again. Even Allie chuckled quietly.  

"You're the carpenter?" Michael asked, his eyes going back down to Pete's hand.

"Sure am," Pete put his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked back on his heels. "I take it y'all were comin' to see me?" he added as he led them both back toward his shop.  

"Yes," Allie spoke up. Michael noticed she was limping a bit more than she had been before. She caught his concerned gaze and smiled comfortingly, "I'm okay, Michael. You were very brave."  

"Damn right he was," Pete agreed. "I'd have probably took off runnin' like a scared pup with my tail 'tween my legs. I've got a brave heart, y'all, but my legs just won't stand."

Allie frowned, "I thought you said you were the sheriff?"  

Pete grinned, his green eyes crinkling around the corners, "Unofficial," he reminded her. "I don't get paid the big money to risk my hide for anyone else. Of course I might change my way of thinkin' and be brave like my friend Michael if had a pretty lady to risk it for."  

Michael stopped walking and stared at the man with shock. Friends? This man considered him a friend?  

Pete and Allie noticed he was no longer with them and turned around, "Michael, what's wrong?" Allie asked.  

"He called me his friend," Michael whispered.  

Pete nodded, "Yeah I did."  

Michael's brow screwed up as he frowned, "We're friends?"  

Pete laughed, "Well fine if ya don't wanna be my friend you just gotta say so," he winked and then turned and headed toward the carpenter shop, waving for Allie and Michael to follow him.  

"We can be friends," Michael assured him as they stepped inside.  

"Well that's good to know," Pete walked over to the counter and motioned at all the objects in his store, "What can I interest y'all in?"  

Michael decided to leave the talking up to Allie. His eyes were too busy taking in everything around him. This man was a carver. Michael loved to carve but wood was harder to come by than paper and so he'd been spending all his time drawing.  

This man had carved all kinds of things, even people and animals, all very realistic and well done. He also had wardrobes, tool chests, frames, benches, chairs--this place was full of amazing pieces of craftsmanship.  

"We're hoping for a bit of scrap wood. We'd like to make a frame," Michael faintly heard Allie say as he ran his hands over a carved bear that came up to his waist.  

"I have frames," Pete replied.

"We don't have the money to buy any, sir. That's why we were hoping to just make one," Allie countered.  

"Don't call me sir; call me Pete." Pete insisted.  Michael heard footsteps approaching him and he realized Pete had come to stand there, "You like that?" he asked, tipping his head toward the bear.  

"It's very good," Michael admitted. He felt strange having a conversation with a man. It was something he had never done before. "I l...like to carve but I'm not this good."  

"Well I wasn't this good when I started, Michael. Hell I once made my mama a wolf and she still thinks it's a misshapen tree. I just never had the heart to tell her different."  

Michael shifted his feet, "How l..long have you been carving?"  

"Since I was ten, so that means about twenty years now," Pete sighed, "Damn, I'm gettin' old. What kinds of things have you carved?"  

Michael scanned the shop for Allie and saw her sitting on a bench across the room, smiling as she watched him. He shook with nervousness as he shrugged, "Nothing really. Pictures on w..walls. I want to learn how to d..do this but I can't."  

"Well why the hell not?" Pete asked as he crossed his arms over his chest, "A person can do just about any thing they want to just so long as they put their mind and their heart to it."  

Michael bit his lip. Could he be a carpenter? Could he create something as beautiful as what Pete created even with his misshapen hand? Quickly Michael limped his way to Allie. She looked up at him expectantly when he stood in front of her.  

"Allie, he thinks I can be a carpenter..." he whispered.  

"So do I, if that's what you want to do," Allie replied and Michael's heart soared. While he didn't know Pete and therefore couldn't be sure the man wasn't just lying to him, Michael knew Allie and knew that she wouldn't tell him a lie.  

"But what about my hand?" Michael asked.  

"What about your hand?" Pete spoke up. "I have six fingers and it never slowed me down; all you have is knotted up knuckles. Hardly enough to keep you from carving a piece of wood."  

Michael's mind whirled. He had never imagined in his life that he would be able to do anything like what Pete did. His hand had always been too swollen and painful to grip much of anything, but that was no longer a problem. He could bend his fingers quite well now and while the knuckles and joints ached at times and were a bit too large, it was nothing compared to how it had once been.  

"I wouldn't know how to start making something that looks like all this," Michael admitted with defeat as he sat down beside Allie on the bench.  

Pete clicked his tongue and tapped his foot, "How about we make us a deal?" he asked.  

Michael tipped his head and took Allie's hand in his just for the reassurance of her touch, "What kind of deal?"  

"Well, how long do you folks plan on being in town for?"  

Michael glanced at Allie and she smiled. She'd been smiling a lot more and with more people since Martha had let her know she had a place here. It made Michael's heart smile each time he saw it,  "For as long as Michael wants to stay."  

"Well, I'll tell you what! You did good, Michael! She's pretty and she minds you. That's what I need in a woman. If I could find one that was pretty and obedient I might just change my mind about settlin' down," he winked.  

Michael glanced at Allie to see what her reaction would be but she seemed amused and he found himself laughing lightly as well. Pete seemed a very nice man and Michael was glad to call him friend.  

"I know I did good," Michael replied, leaning against Allie.  

Pete chuckled and his green eyes sparkled with good nature, "Alright then, here's my offer. I could use some help around here with cleanin' and dealin' with sales. If you'll come work for me I'll pay you a weekly salary of five dollars and help hone your carpentry skills in all our spare time."  

Michael couldn't believe his ears. A job?! Nerves danced in his stomach. Didn't that mean he'd be seeing strangers every day? He turned to Allie and knew she'd feel his hand shaking in hers, "Should I?"  

Allie's gaze was soft and gentle as she laid her free hand on his cheek and smoothed a bit of hair from his face, "I think you should, Michael. You want to learn carpentry and this is a good opportunity for you."  

"But, I'll be around all the people.. What if somebody is scared of me..."  

"Scared of you?!" Pete scoffed. "Well hell, they're made from tougher stuff than that around here. There ain't a damn thing scary about you, boy."  

"Exactly," Allie nodded in agreement. "You have to stop seeing yourself the way 

they saw you, Michael, and see yourself the way I see you. People will love you because you are a good, kind and wonderful person. Take the job, Michael. It will be good for you and Pete will be here with you…“

"You won't be?" Michael swallowed hard.  

"No," Allie shook her head. "You have to learn to do some things without me right beside you, Michael. Please trust me that everything will be okay. There might be people who have something to say now and then but you don't need to pay people like that any mind."  

Michael was scared. He wanted to say no. He wasn't at all sure he could have a job where he was around people every day but he was sure that he wanted to make Allie happy and he believed in her. If she said he could do it then he would trust her.  

"Okay," he swallowed hard and stood up.  He forced himself to look Pete right in the eye though it was hard to do so after so long of never looking people in the eye, "I'll take the job."

Chapter Thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-Three

"Believe it or not, this is my first quilt," Allie beamed with pride as she held up the quilt she'd spent the last two weeks working so hard on.

"It's a bit crooked but I'll bet it's warm," Amelia noted, glancing up from the arithmetic she was working on.  

Allie rolled her eyes, "It's not crooked, Amelia, your head is tilted."  

"No, it's crooked, dear," Martha assured her.  

Allie frowned as she folded her blanket up. She didn't care if it was crooked. It was the first quilt she had ever made and she was proud of it. Glancing at the clock, Allie smiled, "I've got to go get Michael."

"Can you and Michael stop at the mercantile and pick up a bit of fabric I ordered. Jamison said it would be in today," Martha requested. "I have to get down to the café before the dinner rush comes in. Marybeth, Sara, Maria and Tom can't handle all that on their own."  

Allie nodded, 'Sure will. Amelia, do you want to come with me?" Allie asked as she shoved herself to her feet and tested her weight on her ankle. It had been two weeks since she'd injured it and today was her first day without crutches. It seemed to have healed up just fine.  

"I can't," Amelia mumbled. "I have to finish up this and then read a chapter out of the book Mrs. Miller gave me."  

Allie smiled. Amelia might be mumbling now but the truth was the girl loved school and being back around other children.  

"Oh, and Allie? Could you try to get Michael to come to the café to eat his supper tonight? I think it would be good for him," Martha added.  

"Of course," Allie replied and then she felt her heart warm when Martha hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. It had taken a while to get accustomed to such affection from a grandmother figure. Allie had never been shown affection in her life other than from Amelia and Michael, but she found that she liked it. Martha was a wonderful person and Allie knew that is who Michael had inherited his beautiful soul from.  

Allie left the hotel and stepped out onto the boardwalk. It was a strange feeling; this sensation of belonging somewhere. While she still felt those nagging doubts in her head at times and she probably was keeping a slight guard up for self-preservation, Allie still felt like these people were her family.  

Even Marybeth and Sarah had finally warmed up to her and to Michael. Michael had several other cousins in town, mostly much older than him and they had been welcoming as well. As a matter of fact this whole town seemed a welcome change from anything that Michael or Allie had ever known before.  

Allie had never once lived a stable life free from the threat of violence and hunger and for the last two weeks she had had just that. There was no one trying to hurt them and they always knew where their next meal was coming from. Finally Amelia had a good life, Michael had a good life, and Allie.... Allie was the happiest that she had ever been in her entire life. She was happier than she had ever imagined she could be.  

---

"Well I'll be damned! I'll make a carpenter out of you yet," Pete boasted proudly as he patted Michael's back and the two men gazed upon the cabin scene that Michael had etched into a slab of wood.  

"Does it look good?" Michael questioned his friend skeptically. It had felt strange at first to have a friend that was a man. He'd grown accustomed to Amelia and Allie's friendship and to Martha but Pete had been different....  Michael felt almost as if he had a brother, a real brother, and not one that beat him with sticks and made fun of him.  

Pete scoffed, "Does a bear shit in the woods?"  

Michael shrugged with a grin, "If that's where he happens to be when the mood strikes."  

Pete gave a hearty laugh, "I wouldn't lie to you, Michael. You did a real good job."  

Michael beamed with pride. He knew that Pete wouldn't lie to him or tell him something simply to make him feel good. If Pete said the carving was good then it had to be good.  

Michael had been working in Pete's shop for nearly two weeks now. He was amazed by how easy it had been. Of course at first Michael had been terrified of the idea of working with customers. He'd been worried they would laugh at him or be scared. Allie had even come in off and on for the first few days just to encourage him and help him settle in.  

But the customers hadn't been as scary as Michael had imagined they'd be. Pete had made all the introductions and left Michael to do the rest. It turned out this was a nice town with people who all seemed genuinely kind. Of course Michael knew that having Pete offer him support had had a large impact on everyone's opinion of him.  

"Here comes that pretty woman of yours," Pete noted.  

Michael's heart beat faster and his lips curved into a bright smile when he turned and saw his Allie walking down the boardwalk.  

Quickly and shamelessly, Michael pulled her into his arms the moment she was close enough. He kissed her soundly on the lips and felt passion and desire flare to life inside of him.  

Regretfully, Michael made himself pull away; something that was getting harder and harder every time Michael held Allie in his arms. He wanted her. Michael wanted to be with Allie the way men and women were made to be together.  

Michael had read about it, Pete had made jokes about men and women; more and more Michael found himself wanting to experience it for himself with Allie. But he knew that Allie had been hurt and was afraid to take that step. Michael would 

never push Allie into anything and so he simply held her every night and tried desperately to ignore the ache he felt for her.

"Hi, you both!" Allie said as she smiled happily. Michael was amazed at just how much happier Allie was nowadays. It seemed that less and less she was waiting for something bad to happen. Michael wanted her to have a happy life, a life free of the fears and hardships she'd faced so often, and he was hopeful that here in this town with Pete and Martha and all the other people who seemed to genuinely care, she would have just that.  

"Howdy there, Miss Allie. Why don't you take a quick gander at what Michael here created today?"  

Michael flushed when Allie moved around him in the tiny workshop and looked down at the carving he'd made, "Michael, that's beautiful!" she exclaimed.  

Michael rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm getting better," he admitted.  

"Better?" Pete snorted and winked, "In another six months I'll be out of a job!"  

Michael's eyes widened, "I don't want to take your job, Pete!"  

"Don't worry, Michael, I'll find a way to make it somehow," Pete teased. "Now what are you fine folks goin' to be doin' tonight?" he asked.  

Allie moved closer to Michael and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "Michael is going to be eating dinner in the café for the first time," Allie replied proudly.  

Michael forced a smile. He shouldn't be nervous since he'd met just about everybody in town now but the thought of being so cooped up in such a small, crowded, noisy place with so many people all at once gathered together did make him nervous.

"Well what time ya going to supper? A man's gotta eat and I might as well join ya," Pete stated as he rocked back on his heels.  

"Does about seven sound good to you?" Allie offered.  

"Yep, that'll give me just enough time to wash the crud off of me. I'll see y'all at supper."  

"See you then, Pete," Michael replied with dread which made Pete laugh.  

"See you then, Michael. Here don't forget to take this," he added, grabbing up the carving. "You did a real fine job."  

Allie and Michael walked out of the shop and into the evening sunlight, "I missed you today," Allie whispered as she held on tight to his arm and laid her head against his shoulder.  

"I missed you too, Allie," Michael replied honestly. "The shop is closed tomorrow and I want to spend the whole day with you."

"I think we can work that out," Allie promised, a smile curving her full lips.  

Michael wanted to kiss her so badly but he knew he couldn't. It was getting too hard to stop once he started.  

"This carving really is beautiful, Michael. I would love for us to have a cabin just like that one day," Allie said as she held up the carving he had done and examined it.  

"Maybe a little bigger," Michael grinned.  

Allie laughed, "Yes, I believe it will have to be at least a tiny bit bigger than the one you carved."  

"I want us to have that home too," Michael admitted gently.  

"We will then," Allie assured him. "We have to stop at the mercantile for Martha and then we'll go get you cleaned up for supper."  

Michael nodded and treasured the sensation as Allie entwined her fingers with his.  

---

Michael swallowed hard and stared at his plate still full of food. Everyone else was eating their dinner and didn't seem uncomfortable at all in this chaotic, loud café but Michael felt completely out of place.  

His stomach was in knots, he flinched with every loud noise and his hand was shaking as he held his fork. There were so many people here; all laughing and carrying on conversations, and it made Michael wish he could pull something over his head and hide.  

Overwhelmed. He was completely overwhelmed.  

Allie's hand slipped into his under the table and he took comfort in that, though it couldn't completely erase his nervousness.  

"I'll tell you what," Pete boomed jovially, "Michael, Allie and Amelia have settled into town just fine and dandy. Michael had been the biggest damn help a man could have ever asked for over there at the shop."  

"I saw that carving you did, Michael," Marybeth stated with a warm smile as she refilled Martha's glass of tea, "You did really good."  

"Thank you," Michael mumbled, flushing deeply.  

Allie laid her head on his shoulder, "He'll be the next official carpenter before you know it."  

"Hold on now!" Pete laughed. "How about we make enough room for two official carpenters?"  

"Sounds good to me," Michael nodded, finally mustering up the nerve to stick a bite of steak into his mouth. He was glad he did as it tasted like pure heaven. There wasn't much better than Maria's cooking.  

"Now we just have to get down to the business of marriage," Martha agreed with a nod.

"Sounds like a damn good thing to be gettin' to. When is this wedding between the two lovebirds gonna be?" Pete wanted to know.

Martha, Amelia and Pete all turned to look expectantly at Allie and Michael. Michael was about to say that he was ready whenever they were but before he could open his mouth to speak, Allie's words had his jaw snapping shut and his heart falling.  

"There isn't going to be a wedding."

chapter thirty-four

Chapter Thirty-Four

Before Allie could finish her statement and explain why she didn't want a wedding, the table erupted in loud exclamations of disbelief.  

"I would'a bet my left front tooth there'd be a wedding," Pete stated.  

"There will too be a wedding! I worked too hard to get you both together to have you backing out now!" Amelia added.  

"I won't see my grandson hurt that way, dear. You are going to marry him."  

"It's o..okay. She d..doesn't have to."  

Allie's head spun and she shook it roughly, convinced that everyone at this café table at completely lost their minds, "Of course I'm going to marry Michael!" she exclaimed. "I would never change my mind about him or how much I love him!"  

Allie looked at Michael and saw the confusion on his face. She smiled gently and kissed his jaw, "Michael, I can't believe you'd think I didn't want to marry you..."  

He frowned, "But you said..."  

"That there wouldn't be a wedding!" Allie insisted, "Not that I wouldn't marry you! Of course I want to marry you!" she glared at the people surrounding them, "And if everyone would have kept their mouths closed for even five seconds I would have finished my statement and you would have known that's what I meant."  

Michael's face lit up and he smiled. Martha reached across the table and swatted Allie's arm, "You really need to learn how to word things more properly, child! I thought for a moment I would have to beat some sense into you."  

"I'm pretty good at swinging a skillet," Amelia added.

"Honestly, it's offensive that you all would assume the worst of me," Allie noted. "Have I given anyone reason to doubt the love that I have for Michael? Or my devotion to him?"  

Allie was glad when it was everyone else's turn to glance sheepishly down at the table top. Martha was the first to speak again, "Why won't there be a wedding, Allie? If you want to marry Michael then we'll need to have a wedding."  

"No we don't," Allie insisted, trembling when Michael's thumb stroked the sensitive flesh on the underside of her wrist.

"And why not?" Amelia demanded. "If you're going to get married then you need a wedding."  

Allie shook her head, "I don't want to have that big fuss made," she insisted. "I simply want Michael and I along with the ones that we truly love there with us. Small, intimate and perfect."  

"What about you, Michael?" Martha turned her gaze to him and seemed hopeful that he would disagree with Allie. Clearly Martha had been hoping for a large ceremony.  

Michael glanced at Allie, brushed his lips gently across her temple and smiled at his grandmother, "I want whatever Allie wants. As long as I can be her husband, I don't care about anything else."  

"Listen to that!" Pete chuckled. "Spoken like a man who knows who his boss is."  

Allie rolled her eyes and was about to argue that she was not Michael's boss but he cut her off when he squeezed her hand. She turned to look at him and was surprised when he swooped down and captured her lips under his own.  

He pulled away and Allie sat there desperately attempting to calm her racing heart. Her eyes remained closed and she breathed deeply, savoring the sweetness of his kiss still lingering on her lips.  

Michael's next words had her heart swelling with love and her body heating and yearning for Michael's in a way that shocked her, "I know how blessed I am," he assured Pete. "There is no one alive who loves anyone more than I love my Allie."  

---

Allie lay with her head against Michael's heart that night simply listening to the gentle beating beneath her ear and finding comfort in that familiar rhythm. He had her hand in his and was entwining their fingers over and over as he held both their hands up in the glowing lantern light.  

The last two weeks had made such a difference in her man. Working with Pete and with the townsfolk had gone a long way in bringing him out of his shell and making him more outspoken while increasing his confidence. His stutter was all but gone, only rearing itself when he was extremely upset or uncomfortable and he no longer simply sat and listened to conversations without taking part in them. If he had something to say then he usually said it.  

"Are you sure you want to marry me, Allie?" Michael whispered, his quiet voice filling the peaceful silence.  

Allie nodded as she snuggled closer to him, wrapping her leg over his. She had known he'd had something on his mind since dinner and had suspected that was it, "Of course I do, Michael. Why wouldn't I?"

"You could do better...."  

"I've told you not to say things like that," Allie warned. "There is no one better than you. Are you sure you want to marry me?"  

"Yes," there was not a single moment of hesitation or any hint of doubt in his voice. Allie had thought that meeting other people, seeing that the world was a bigger place, would make Michael doubt the love he felt for her and want for more, but she had been wrong. And she was very very glad for that.  

"Tomorrow the carpentry shop is closed and we'll have the whole day together. What better time to go see the preacher?" Allie suggested, her heart racing at the thought of becoming Michael's wife.  

"Are you sure you don't want a big wedding?"  

"Michael, would you honestly be comfortable up in front of hundreds of townspeople with everyone staring at us as we try to recite everything the preacher tells us to?"

Michael swallowed hard and she watched his throat work up and down, "No," he admitted, "But if that's what you want then I'll do it."  

"It's not what I want," Allie promised. "You are all I want and I have you. I'm a private person and not someone who wants all that attention."  

"We could find that preacher tonight...."  

"I don't want to hurt your grandmother or Amelia by sneaking off and getting married," Allie countered gently. "They deserve to be there and so does Pete after all he's done for you. He's been a very good friend."  

"I never knew having family could feel this way," Michael ran his hand down Allie's bare forearm and she felt a tingling heat building low in her core from the contact.  

"Neither did I," she managed to whisper despite the fact that she could hardly concentrate on their conversation. Her mind was on the desire Michael's touch was stirring within her.  

After what Allie had gone through as a child with her father, the thought of being intimate with any man had been something that made her physically ill and terrified.... But more and more the thought of being 

that way with Michael was something that Allie found herself thinking about quite often. The thought of Michael’s body loving her, of being as close to him as she could get; their bodies becoming one with each other, did not fill her with anything other than want and that want was quickly becoming need.

She wondered if Michael felt it too?

Allie suspected he did. There had been time while they'd been kissing and holding one another that she had felt proof of his desire pressing against her, but Michael was always very careful to never touch her in anyway that might frighten her after what she had told him in the attic all those weeks ago.  

Allie forced her mind from those thoughts. Tomorrow Michael would be her husband and tomorrow night, if he was ready, she would try to give herself to him. Allie could only hope and pray that he would forgive her if she panicked and found she could not....  

"Michael?" she whispered with trepidation.  

"What's wrong?" concern filled his voice as his arm tightened around her waist.  

"You need to make sure you want to marry me... There is a chance that I'll never be able to give you what another woman could..."

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked. "You give me everything I need."  

"No, I don't. Men need more than what I give you. I might not be able to be with you the way a wife is supposed to be with her husband."  

Michael shook his head and pulled her up so that she was looking into his loving blue eyes, "You are everything I need, Allie. I'll never ask you for anymore than what you freely give me and I will 

never regret marrying you. You need to stop thinking those thoughts. I thought that I’d finally convinced you to get rid of that doubt.“

"I'm trying, Michael," Allie assured him.  

Michael kissed her nose, "Try harder."  

She smiled and nestled herself back against his chest, "We should probably sleep," she noted before yawning loudly.  

"Tomorrow will be the new best day of my life," Michael stated.  

Allie kissed his jaw, "What was your old best day?"  

"Today."  

"Today?" Allie frowned, "Why today?"  

"I was with you."  

"You're with me everyday."  

"Yes, and every day is better than the last one."

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

Michael woke the next morning to find himself alone in the bed. He always preferred mornings when he woke with Allie laying against his chest but he was determined not to be too disappointed. Allie was going to become his wife today and that was something to sing from the rooftops about.....and Michael would if he could sing.  

Slowly he sat up and threw his legs over the bed. That familiar twinge of pain accompanied his motions as he stood up and put weight on his crooked left leg. It was something that would hurt him for the rest of his life he supposed but the pain was minimal now compared to what it had been in the past and it was certainly something Michael could live with.  

A knock sounded on the door and Michael frowned, "Come in," he called out, assuming it was Allie or Amelia and wondering why they would knock.  

The door opened and he was surprised to see his grandmother instead with a steaming cup in her hand, "Good morning, Michael," she smiled brightly.  

"Good morning," he replied, happy to see her.  

She had a mischievous glint in her gray eyes that made him wonder what she was up to as she held out the cup to him, "Your tea," she stated.  

"Thank you," Michael took the cup and took a slow sip, wincing when the hot liquid burned against his tongue, "Where's Allie?" 	

"She's in another room and going to stay there for a few hours," Martha replied, her eyes sparkling.  

Michael felt that familiar fear and panic stirring in his gut at knowing he was separated from Allie but he fought it back with all he had, "Why? Is she okay?"  

"A bit irritated at me but otherwise fine," Martha replied. She folded her hands over her soft belly, "I know that a big wedding isn't wanted by either of you so I'm going to give you a small intimate one with very few guests. However, it is customary for the bride and groom to remain separate until the marriage takes place and so you'll be in separate rooms for the day."  

"But Allie just wanted to go see the preacher...." Michael began and Martha tsked and waved her hand.  

"I thought I had lost you a long time ago, Michael, and now that I have you back I want to see you, and the woman who rescued you, have everything that you deserve. You and Allie have been through so much in your lives and you deserve to have a ceremony, even if it is a small one, to celebrate the love that you share. A love that is breathtakingly refreshing and pure."  

Michael wanted Allie to have that as well but he couldn't help but doubt this move seeing as how it wasn't what Allie had said she wanted. Martha must have seen him about to speak because she batted her eyes and gave him a sad look, "I'm an old woman, Michael, with few years left. Would you truly deny me this?"  

Michael swallowed hard and looked down into his tea for several moments. Finally he sighed, "No."  

His grandmother brightened immediately and clapped her hands together. Michael got a gnawing suspicion that he'd just been had, "That's wonderful! Here is a letter from your soon to be wife. A washtub from the bathhouse will be brought in shortly so that you can bathe and Pete will be bringing your clothes after a while. Please stay in the room. I want everything to be perfect before you or Allie sees it."  

Michael simply nodded and took the folded paper in his free hand. Martha rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I love you, Michael, and I'm so happy you found Allie."  

Michael shifted his feet and blushed, "She found me."  

Martha patted the cheek she had just kissed, "Either way, I'm grateful. Now I have work to do so I must be off!"  

Michael watched her quickly bustle from the room and then he walked over to the bed. He sat on the edge, placed his cup on the small nightstand and quickly unfolded the letter that Allie had sent to him.  

Dearest Michael,

Sorry I was not there when you awoke this morning. I was simply on my way to brew your tea when I was ambushed by your grandmother and cousins and practically kidnapped! Since you're reading this letter, I know that Martha has probably told you what she has up her sleeve and while I was hesitant about this wedding and attention, I have come to the conclusion that you deserve it. 


You are a man who was locked away from this world for far too long and you deserve to be seen and heard and appreciated by everyone. You are the single most amazing human I have ever known and I am so humbled that you have chosen me to stand beside you in this life. 


I suppose the next time we see one another will be as we stand in front of our family and friends and share those vows that will join us as one for the rest of time. My heart is racing with the thought but there is not a single trace of doubt to be found in my entire being. I am so in love with you, Michael. 

Forever yours,

Allie

Michael read the letter three times in a row, unable to quite believe just how blessed he was. To think that a woman as courageous and beautiful in soul as Allie wanted to become his wife was something he would have once thought impossible.  

Michael glanced at the ticking clock on the wall and cursed its slowness. Today was going to be a very long day when all he wanted in the world was to finally see his Allie becoming his wife.  

---

"Allie..." Amelia gasped. "You look so beautiful!"  

Allie stared into the mirror and took in the shockingly sight of herself. Allie had never once seen herself as beautiful. She hadn't had time to worry about something as superficial and ridiculous as her physical appearance. Beauty did not protect her sister nor put food in their mouths. But today, standing here in this beautiful white silk gown that hugged her torso and flared at her hips before draping delicately to the floor, Allie felt beautiful.  

Sarah and Marybeth had painted her cheeks and lips lightly and they had brushed out her brown hair until it had shown before pulling it back and leaving long curls dangling down her neck. Standing there in the mirror, Allie didn't look tired or pale. She wasn't skin and bones nor haggard. She looked very much like a beautiful young woman preparing to marry the man she loved.  

"I can't believe this dress fits me so nicely," Allie admitted as she ran her hands along her waist.  

"I snuck out one of your work outfits awhile back and gave Juanita down the street all your measurements she needed to make the dress fit perfect," Amelia noted, sounding quite proud of herself as she sat on the edge of the bed.  

"I'll have to find a way to pay Martha back for this...."  

"I don't think you will!" Martha scolded as she stepped into the room. Tears filled the elderly woman's gray eyes as she looked Allie up and down, "You look every inch a woman in love."  

"I am, Martha," Allie felt tears prick behind her own eyes and fought them desperately, "I honestly never gave a single thought to one day getting married. I didn't think I would ever meet a man who would make me want to."  

"But then you found our Michael," Martha smiled and took Allie's hands, "Thank you for loving him, Allie. Thank you for seeing past what others were unable to and realizing what a treasure he is."  

Allie nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. She found herself unable to speak and Martha smiled knowingly before kissing her cheek.

"I want to give you something," Martha said, pulling away.  

Allie shook her head, 'You've already done too much!" she assured her. "I couldn't possibly accept anything else."  

Martha clicked her tongue, "Well, you simply have no choice," she scolded. She reached in her dress pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. She laid it in Allie's hand and Allie opened it slowly.  

"Oh my...." she gasped as she stared down at the delicate gold chain and the beautiful emerald dangling from the center.  

"This necklace has been in my family for years," Martha said as she took the necklace from the box and walked behind Allie. "It was my grandmothers, then my mothers, I wore it on my wedding day and now it is yours."  

Allie stood there as Martha fastened the necklace and when the woman walked back around her and gave her a warm and loving smile, Allie was no longer able to fight back the tears that had been welling up inside of her.  

"Dear child! You aren't supposed to sob!" Martha exclaimed as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed desperately at Allie's cheeks. "What's the matter with you?!"  

"I... I love this necklace," Allie choked out. "Thank you so very much."  

Martha seemed confused, "You're welcome, dear."  

Allie sat down on the edge of the bed and Amelia put an arm around her as Martha stared at them both, "I've never had anyone that treated me like you do," Allie admitted quietly after several moments. "You are so warm and kind and I can easily see now where Michael got his soul from, Martha. Thank you so very much for welcoming Amelia and I into your family the way you have."

It was Martha's turn to tear up and the woman bustled forward and hugged Allie tight against her soft belly, "Dear, you are a blessing unlike any before. You gave me back my Michael. You saved his life and you brought him back to me. You love that boy and not only did you save his life but truly you gave him life. You are an angel, Allie."  

Allie felt her tears falling harder as she buried her face against Martha's soft cotton dress and sobbed. There was something about this, about having a woman; a grandmother figure, holding her so lovingly that tore at something inside of Allie. It broke down a wall that she had built so high around her heart.  

It was a wall that only Michael had ever conquered. The wall had been built out of necessity. Allie had been forced to build it, to hide her hurt, her fear, her uncertainties and simply do what had to be done to keep herself and her sister alive and safe.  

"Allie, you have to stop that now, child!" Martha scolded with a voice thick with emotion. "You're going to be red and swollen when you walk to Michael and he'll worry about you."  

Allie sniffed hard, knowing Martha was right. But would Martha be so welcoming, so accepting if she knew everything there was to know about her? Allie took a deep shuddering breath and glanced at her sister, "Amelia, can you go down and get me a fresh bit of water and tell Sara I'll need her to repaint my face?"  

Amelia hesitated before standing, "Are you okay?"  

"I'm fine," Allie forced a smile and Amelia rolled her eyes, clearly not believing her.

Martha seemed to sense that Allie was trying to get rid of Amelia and she waved her hand toward the door, "Go on now, Amelia. Do as your sister says so we can get these two married."  

Amelia stuck her lip out in a pout that reminded Allie just how young her sister truly was and then the girl left the room closing the door a bit too loudly behind her. Martha sat down beside Allie on the bed and took her hand, "Now what seems to be on your mind that you can't speak of with Amelia here?"  

Allie swallowed hard, stuck out her chin and squared her shoulders, "You need to know the truth about me, Martha."  

Martha tilted her head, "What truth is that?"  

Allie had never been one to shy from danger or run and hide and so she met Martha's gaze full force, "You seem to have me on a pedestal and I want to ensure you know exactly who your grandson is marrying."  

"Allie, dear, you don't owe me any truths. As long as Michael knows who he is marrying and you love that boy then there is nothing else....."  

Allie held up her free hand, "Michael knows. I have told him everything and he still sees me as perfect. It's his innocence and loving soul that sees past the things I've done."  

Martha frowned, "What kind of 

things are we talking about?“

Allie closed her eyes against the memories. She wouldn't tell Martha everything in detail because it was too hard and voicing those painful truths even one time to Michael had been nearly more than Allie had been able to stand. But she would tell Martha enough that the woman could fill in the gaps.  

"My mother was abusive, mean, vile and had no love for my sister or I. I was merely free labor in her eyes and she used me for exactly that while barely ensuring we had enough to eat. My father killed her in a fit of rage one night and I watched and did nothing to stop him even though I could have. My father was a drinker and he did things to me that no man should ever do to his daughter on more than one occasion..."  

Allie swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat and saw Martha's eyes widen. Allie simply took a deep, steadying breath and continued, "I wouldn't allow him to hurt my sister and so when she was only two years old and he tried, I attacked him, knocked him out, set fire to the house and escaped into the night with Amelia, leaving him behind unconscious. We barely survived, Amelia and I, but I did what had to be done which included theft. We were captured and taken to the orphanage where we lived for nearly six years. Once again we were starved, beaten and treated as slaves, though the night we made our escape from there I ensured that the headmistress would never again bring about another girl's death as I'd seen her do before..... I am not the angel that you seem to think I am. I have done things that some would deem terrible, or unforgivable, but I would do them all again. Protecting those I love is the most important thing to me."  

Silence followed Allie's confession. The clock ticked on the wall and Allie heard men shouting outside as a horse spooked but Martha simply sat there. She seemed to be attempting to digest everything and Allie waited with baited breath, her stomach churning with nerves, as she waited to be rejected.  

Instead, shock coursed through her when Martha sniffed back tears and threw her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug, "You poor child! You and Michael are safe now, both of you! As long as there is a breath in my body you will never worry again about anyone hurting you or where your next meal might come from. You have found a safe place, Allie."  

Allie replayed those words in her mind. 

A safe place. Never before in her life had she known one of those.

Allie pulled away and wiped at her face, "Thank you, Martha. I cannot tell you how much finding you and this place has meant to me and to my sister."  

Martha smiled and placed a kiss to her cheek, "Now enough of this sappy nonsense!" Martha scolded as she stood and beamed with excitement. "Let's get you fixed back up and married!"  

Allie stood up as well and found herself laughing, feeling freer and happier than ever before. Martha knew the truth and still welcomed her, Amelia was safe, Michael was safe and Allie was going to be marrying the man she loved with all her heart. They weren't hungry, they weren't in danger, they weren't being abused or beaten; life was safe and happy and pleasant and Allie prayed that nothing would come and take that away.  

---

Michael stood on quaking knees and felt sweat slick his brow. The preacher was standing behind him and a handful of his cousins sat in the pews of the tiny church. A white satin runner was on the aisle for Allie to walk on and sashes were draped across the pews. It was all quite beautiful but Michael was terrified.  

What if Allie changed her mind? What if she realized just how ugly he truly was and decided that she could do better?

Michael scolded himself for thinking those thoughts. Allie was a person of loyalty and commitment and she didn't turn her back on those she loved, and Michael had no doubts that she loved him. For some reason, completely unfathomable to him, that angel of a woman was in love with him and he was going to become her husband today.  

"You okay there, Michael? Ya seem to be weavin' back and forth a bit," Pete teased good-naturedly as he walked up and patted Michael on the back.  

Michael smiled nervously, "Everyone is looking at me," he whispered, glancing at the small crowd out of the corner of his eyes.  

"Well of course they are! Here ya are up here lookin' all dapper in a suit while you shake like a leaf! I believe Horace has taken up a bet on just how long it's gonna be before your legs give plumb out and you hit the floor."  

Michael glanced at his cousin Horace, a giant of a man with a whale of a stomach who was quiet and didn't say much. Horace saw him looking and laughed before throwing him a wave which Michael returned half-heartedly.  

"I won't fall," he assured Pete quietly as he turned his attention back to the man.  

"Of course you won't, Michael. Ya got you the prettiest woman in all of Campton goin' to become your wife today! Why ya just wait 'til she gets here and no one will even notice you another second; they'll be too busy lookin' at her."  

Pete barely had time to finish speaking when Martha came dashing in with Amelia at her side, "Okay, everyone! Here she comes so please take your seats!"  

Pete gave Michael one more reassuring pat on the back before making his way to his seat in the first pew right beside Martha.  

Michael let out a long breath, shifted his weight to relieve the pressure in his left leg and stared hard at the door with his hands shaking as they held onto the his pants legs. Then those doors opened, (with the help of a young boy who had volunteered for door duty), and Michael forgot everything.  

He forgot all about being afraid or nervous. He forgot about the pain in his leg or the deformities of his face. He forgot to feel self-conscious or not good enough.  

The only thing in the world he could focus on in that moment of time was his Allie. The sun created a blinding backdrop that caused the white silk dress her body was encased in to glow. Her brown hair sparkled in the light as tendrils of it curled around her face and neck.  

Michael smiled as she made her way toward him with a look of such love and assuredness on her face. There was no doubt in her eyes or her step as she walked to him. Michael found himself unable to wait and limped quickly toward her, meeting her halfway as her eyes widened with surprise,  

"You're supposed to wait," she whispered as good natured laughter filled the church.  

"I couldn't," Michael replied simply as he took her hand.  

"Well come along then you two," the preacher urged gently.  

"I don't blame ya, Michael. I wouldn't have been able to wait for somethin' like that either," Pete's booming voice assured him.  

Michael couldn't stop smiling as he walked hand-in-hand with Allie back to the alter. The preacher spoke and Michael did his best to repeat all the words correctly without mixing them up or stuttering.  When he heard Allie repeating those words and vowing to stand beside him for the rest of her life, Michael couldn't help but tear up. Allie smiled gently before reaching out and swiping away his tears with her thumb.  

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the preacher smiled and nodded toward Michael, "You may kiss your bride."  

Michael swallowed hard and simply stared into Allie's gentle brown eyes as she stared back into his. Time seemed to lose all meaning and stand completely still while racing all at once.  

"Come on now, Michael! Kiss the woman!" Pete exclaimed.  

Michael felt his heart race when Allie's lips curved in a smile. She made the first move, leaned in and pressed those soft, red lips to his tenderly.  

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind. Congratulations, laughter, dinner, dancing, more kissing... Michael spent the day lost in a fog of happiness and it wasn't until he and Allie stepped into their bedroom that night and she closed the door quietly that he realized what tonight was.... Their wedding night.  

Michael felt his body respond to that thought. There was no denying just how badly he wanted Allie but he wouldn't push her. Michael sat on the edge of the bed to ease the pain in his left leg and watched Allie's slender body as she moved around the room, lighting the lamps and filling the bedroom with the glow of fire light.  

His eyes widen and his head spun when she came to him and dropped to her knees before pressing a hungry kiss to his lips. Michael returned the kiss and then gasped for breath as she pulled away, "I want you, Michael. I want to give myself to you."  

Michael struggled for breath, "Are y..you sure?" he whispered. "We d..don't have to," he was worried he might disappoint her since he knew nothing other than what he'd read and heard about being with a woman.  

Allie swallowed hard and nodded, her eyes searching his, "Yes, I'm sure."  

Knowing what had been done to Allie in the past made the trust that Michael saw in her brown eyes mean so much more. He nodded and took her face gently in his hands before guiding her lips back to his.  

This was his Allie, his wife, and Michael only wanted to please her. That was his only goal in life. As the kisses turned hungrier one thought kept racing through Michael's mind; today had already been the best day of his life and tonight seemed it was going to be even better. The woman he loved was trusting him with a part of herself she had never willingly given to anyone before and Michael was going to cherish that gift like the treasure it was.

Chapter thirty-six

Chapter Thirty-Six

"Did you finally decide to come up for air?" Pete demanded before laughing heartily at his own words. Michael flushed and looked around the carpentry shop which Michael hadn't been inside for nearly a full week. For the last week he and Allie had been locked up inside their bedroom nearly all day every day.  

Michael had already known Allie's heart and soul just as she had known his but together in that room, he had learned everything else about her. Just thinking about the soft touches and gentle love making caused a smile to curve Michael's lips.  

"Haha!" Pete slapped his back, "I know that smile. That's the smile of a man who has thoroughly enjoyed himself. But now the fun times are over and you have to be gettin' back to work! I got spoiled havin' you around and I've fallen behind the last week without you here. Not to mention all the folks wantin' to come in to talk to their favorite store keep and being disappointed because he's off havin' himself a good ol' time."  

"I'm sorry," Michael frowned. "I didn't mean to put you in a tight spot...."  

Pete's laughter boomed in the tiny shop, "Don't you worry about it none. Now between my eleven fingers and your lumpy knuckles let's see what kinds of things we can create today."  

Michael smiled, happy to be spending time with his friend once again. Though he was eager for lunchtime when Allie would be bringing him something from the café and it wasn't the thought of food that had him so excited.  

"Get your mind off that woman for a minute!" Pete scolded with a wink. "You'll end up cuttin' off a finger or two and only being able to count to eight or nine the rest of your life!"  

It was nearly lunch and Michael had tended to several customers who had indeed seemed to have missed him, or at least seemed happy to have him back. He was beginning to grow more and more anxious for Allie's arrival when Pete came out of the back and walked up to the counter.  

"I want to talk to you about somethin'."  

Michael frowned and picked at the scarred up wood of the countertop, "What?"  

"Well stop looking at me like I'm about to tell ya you have six days to live or somethin'! It's good news I'd like to talk to ya about."  

Michael relaxed a bit and blew out a breath, "Okay."  

Pete rolled his eyes, "Okay. Now look, I know y'all are all cozy over at that hotel and all but surely you don't want to live there forever. Now I have my place up above the shop here where I lay my head at night but I got another house at the edge of town to the east. It's a small little place and it's a bit rundown so it'll need some work but I'd like for you and Allie to have it."  

Michael didn't know what to say. He stared at Pete with shock and shook his head, "It's yours though..."  

Pete snorted, "And what do I need with a three bedroom house with a garden plot and window boxes? That's a family house and I don't reckon I'm too keen on ever havin' one of those of my own so I want you to have it. Like I said, it'll need work, but seein' as how we're such skilled carpenters we should be able to take care of that fairly easy. And it's less than a five minute walk into town so it won't be out of the way for you to keep workin' here and Amelia to keep going to school."  

Michael was speechless. He looked out the window and saw Allie coming down the road with a basket hanging from her arm, "I'll talk to Allie..."  

"Again you've proven you have this marriage situation under control," Pete teased warmly. "I'll just slip into the back and let you do your talkin' then."  

Michael watched Pete leave and then turned back to the door just in time to see Allie step through it. Instantly the smile on her face disappeared and she rushed to the counter, laying the basket on top of it and putting her hand on his cheek.  

"Michael, you look as if you've seen a ghost! What's wrong?"  

Michael shook his head and laid his hand over hers, removing it from his cheek and entwining their fingers, "There's nothing wrong. I'm simply a bit shocked."  

"Shocked?" Allie smiled, "I told you I was coming."  

"I know you did and I've been looking forward to it all day."  

Allie leaned over the counter and kissed his lips tenderly, "Then what has you shocked?" she whispered, pulling away slowly.  

It took Michael a moment to gain his bearings; Allie's kisses had that effect on him. Once he could think properly again he told her about Pete's offer.

"A house?" she gasped with surprise. "He wants to give us a house?"  

"Yes. He said it needs a bit of work but he wants us to have it."  

"We can't accept a gift like that!" Allie exclaimed. "That's too generous."  

"Now wait just a cotton pickin' minute!" Pete shook his head as he came bursting back into the sales shop. "If you saw that rundown piece of work you wouldn't accuse me of bein' so generous! Now don't turn me down and insult me like that."  

Allie groaned with frustration, "What is it with you and Martha doing things for us that we couldn't possibly hope to pay you back for? I am not used to nor comfortable with that kind of charity!"  

Pete scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'll give you six reasons!" he said holding up his six-fingered hand and causing Michael to laugh. Even Allie's lips twitched with amusement, "Reason one: you and Michael are my damned friends. Reason two: you are newly married and need a place to stay that isn't a hotel. Reason three: Amelia deserves to have a real house since y'all ain't had one of those in a real good long time. Reason four: Michael here is just about the best damn person I have ever met in my entire life and I want to do this for him. Reason five: my mama won't be able to throw that house in my face and declare that she wants grandbabies to fill it. Last but not least, reason six: I am the unofficial damn sheriff of this here town and ya gotta do what I say."   

Michael shrugged, "I don't see how you can argue with that, Allie."  

"She's a woman; she'll find a way," Pete assured him.  

Allie's brown eyes narrowed as she glared at the man and Michael hope his wife and his friend weren't truly about to fight too badly, "Pete, it's too much."  

"The place has holes in the roof the size of dinner plates!" Pete exclaimed. "It'll take a lot of work and I'll expect you and Michael to help with it. See it's not all charity!"

"Amelia does deserve to have a house, Allie, and I'd... I'd kind of like to have one too," Michael admitted.  

Allie's gaze turned toward him and Michael saw her eyes soften. She sighed with defeat and bit her lip, "Fine. But I'm not happy about it!" she warned Pete. "You people have to stop doing so much for me. I don't know how to handle it."  

"Smile, say 'thank-you', and give me a big ol' hug," Pete winked.  

Michael covered his mouth with his hand to hide his amusement as he watched Allie glare at Pete. Then suddenly she smiled, whispered a 'thank-you' and then quickly crossed the several feet separating them and hugged Pete tight.  

Pete seemed stunned a moment and then he laughed and hugged her back, "See now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"  

---

"Wow, it sure does need some work," Amelia muttered as she put her hands on her hips and her eyes scanned the ramshackle home that Pete had given them.  

Allie scolded her quickly but Pete laughed, "I won't never be called a liar."  

"Can we look inside?" Michael asked.  

Pete shrugged, rocking back on his heels, "Ya can do whatever you want with the place. It's yours now."  

Allie couldn't believe that she was actually looking at her own house. Never in her life had she had a place that was home. The place she had grown up in with her parents had certainly never been a home; it had been a prison. Even though she hadn't yet seen the inside, Allie knew this place was perfect.  

The stones that had been laid down as a walkway from the road to the front door were cracked and breaking. Many of the porch banisters were broken and a few were missing entirely. There were gaps in the logs that made up the walls and the front door was crooked. The glass windows were so dirty they couldn't been seen through. The window boxes were barely hanging on and were overgrown with weeds and the chimney had a birds nest hanging at the top.  

But Allie could already see it once they'd fixed up the outside. She could see herself and Michael on a new porch swing watching the sunset over town. She could see smoke rising from the chimney on a cold winters day as lantern and candlelight glowed out of sparkling glass windows. The smell of herbs and flowers wafting through the air from the window boxes and supper cooking up on the stove.  

Allie smiled as she imagined just how perfect the future would be.  

Michael's hand tugging hers gently had her snapping from her daydreams, "Come on, Allie," he urged.  

She nodded and followed after him up the rock walkway and onto the rickety porch, "This will have to be redone," she noted as it sagged beneath her weight.  

"Luckily you happen to be friends with a decent carpenter," Pete replied, puffing his chest out as he did so, "And that carpenter happens to be some form of distant relation or another to the sawmiller in town. I believe y'all will be just fine."  

Allie swallowed hard and simply nodded. It was so strange to live in a place with people who genuinely seemed to care. It was an odd realization to come to when you realized that after so long fending for yourself you now had people who wanted to help you.  

Michael opened the door of the house and the two of them stepped inside with Amelia on their heels. Allie took in the dusty interior of the house. The wood planked floor seemed sturdy beneath their feet, though it was filthy. There were several rugs, brown and dingy with dust, that lined the small living area and kitchen. Allie knew that a good thorough beating of those rugs outside would have them as good as new.  

The kitchen was fully furnished. Cast iron skillets hung from nails on the walls and a large cook stove sat in the corner beside a rickety table with two chairs. Allie turned her attention back to the living area of the house. A sofa was in front of the fire place with a long short legged table in front of it. There was an armchair beside the sofa and a rocking chair in the corner. A pretty glass encased cabinet sat beside the window and while it was empty Allie could only imagine how pretty it would be filled with knickknacks in the firelight.  

"Can I sleep up here?!" Amelia exclaimed.  

Allie looked toward the sound of her voice and realized her sister had climbed a ladder up into a loft above the kitchen, "Amelia, that might not be safe up there!" Allie warned.  

"Naw, it's safe," Pete assured her. "This place might not look like much but it's structurally sound. She ain't gonna fall through."  

"Allie, there's two beds up here and a nightstand all my own! Can I have this room, please?!"  

Allie smiled at her sister's excitement and nodded. She then turned her attention toward the two closed door off the back of the living area, "Those are the other two bedrooms," Pete noted. "One's fairly small but would make a good nursery," a wink followed that statement, "And the other is a larger room just perfect for two newlyweds."  

"He's talking about us," Michael whispered and Allie smiled up at him.  

"Yes, I believe you're right," she agreed, rising on her toes to kiss his cheek. His gentle blue eyes gazed down at her and Allie's mind drifted back to the last week.  

Always Allie had seen what happened between a man and a woman as something mean and harsh and painful. She had never imagined it could be a warm, loving, pleasurable experience but with Michael it had been exactly that and more. His every touch, every kiss, had simply made her fall even more in love with him and Allie was happy that she had allowed herself to trust him enough to take that step.  

"So, like I said, she'll need a bit of work to be livable. We'll have to get that chimney cleaned out and patched up, patch up these walls, redo your porch and your window boxes and you'll have to do a bit of cleaning up in here but I think she'll suit y'all just fine."

 Michael pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, "We have a home now, Allie. A home that's just for us!"  

Allie smiled and held him back just as tightly, "I want you to always be just this happy, Michael."  

"I will be," he whispered as he pulled away and looked down into her eyes. Allie was still amazed by just how tall and strong he had grown over the last months. "I have you now."

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Michael limped heavily to the hotel bed and collapsed upon the mattress. His back and leg were aching so deeply that he'd barely managed to walk the distance from the house he and Pete were working on back to the hotel.

Nearly three weeks he'd been working every day to get the house ready to live in and finally, the work was done. While the house was still a bit bare and it would take time to fill every corner with signs of family, Michael was eager to get to doing just that with Allie and Amelia.  

Allie had helped some with the work but Martha had kept her very busy at the hotel. It seemed that Martha wanted Allie to learn all she could about the hotel and café business so that Allie could one day take it over. Michael knew that Allie was unsure about doing so because she felt she didn't deserve it.  

Michael wondered if there would ever come a day when Allie realized she deserved every single good thing that ever happened to her. He figured the answer was probably no. Allie was too humble to ever believe that she deserved such good things to come her way.  

The hotel room door opened and Allie stepped in with a steaming cup of tea in her hand, "I knew you'd be in pain," she said softly as she closed the door behind her.  

Michael's heart filled with his love for this woman who was always thinking of everyone else without asking them for a single thing in return. "I am a little sore," he admitted as he pushed himself up to sit and Allie settled herself on the mattress beside him.  

"You've been working too hard," she scolded softly. "You can't be overdoing yourself like this."  

"I'm not that weak helpless man you found in the attic anymore, Allie," Michael reminded her. "I've gotten much stronger and can do more than you give me credit for."  

"Don't be like that," Allie snipped, nudging him gently with her shoulder. She set the cup of tea into his hand, "You've been working really hard and I'd worry about anyone I loved just the same."  

Michael grinned before sipping his tea, "What about you?" he countered. "You've been working hard learning all about the hotel business."  

Allie sighed, "Yes, I have."  

"And....?"  

"And what?"  

"What do you think?"  

Allie was silent a moment as her eyes watched the horizon outside the bedroom window. Michael wondered what she was thinking but wasn't going to interrupt her thoughts as he waited patiently for her to speak and drank the tea she had made him.  

"I like it, Michael," she finally admitted, her voice full of surprise. "I didn't think that I would. I thought I would hate working so closely with people. I thought I would be too uncomfortable with the male guests and I worried that it would be too much chaos for me to handle but.... I like it," she smiled at him as she finished and Michael swooped forward and caught her lips in a tender kiss.  

"You deserve all the happiness in the world, Allie. I am happy you enjoy the hotel."  

Allie leaned into his as Michael slipped his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder, "Martha is upset about us moving out soon. She seems quite content to have us living right here forever."  

"We're only a few minutes away," Michael noted.  

Allie laughed lightly, "I told her exactly that and she shook her finger in my face, clicked her tongue and warned me not to interrupt her grief with my logic."  

Michael chuckled. His grandmother was quite dramatic and knew how to bestow quite a guilt trip on someone in order to get her way. "I'll talk to her after supper," he promised. "I don't want her to be sad."  

Allie kissed his jaw, "She's just going to miss having her grandson so close."  

"I think it's you she'll be missing most of all," Michael countered. "She loves you."  

Allie didn't reply at first. Her fingers danced across the front of Michael's dirt and sweat stained shirt, picking at the buttons, "I know," she whispered.  

Silence fell over the room. Michael rubbed her arm with his free hand and sipped at his tea while Allie kept her head on his shoulder and picked the button of his shirt. It was a comfortable silence just as it always was between them and Michael treasured these moments. After being alone for so long in that attic it was nice to have someone to simply share the quiet with.  

His rumbling stomach interrupted the peace and had Allie standing, "Come on," she urged while holding out her hand. "Let's go get you something to fill that stomach."

Michael  took her hand but instead of allowing her to pull him up, he sat his tea on the nightstand and pulled her down to him. Allie's laughter filled the air as they tumbled down upon the mattress. Michael took her face in his hands and found her lips with his own, caressing them tenderly.  

There was nothing in the world better than this. Holding Allie in his arms, feeling her slender body against his and kissing her soft lips was heaven. Michael pulled her closer to him and heard her moan softly in the back of her throat as her hands tightened on his arms.  

Their passionate embrace was interrupted when the door to the bedroom burst open. Allie leapt to her feet and Michael frowned when he saw Amelia standing in the doorway with concern lighting up her brown eyes.  

"What's wrong?" Allie demanded.  

"I don't know," Amelia replied quietly as she twisted her hands together. "I was going to show my knitting project to Martha but when I went to her office the door was locked. I can hear her inside and she's crying but she won't answer when I knock."

Michael and Allie shared a look of trepidation and Michael instantly got to his feet, "I'll go check on her."  

"We're coming with you," Allie informed him and he nodded as he took her hand in hers and they quickly left the room.  

Michael was distracted by his worry for his grandmother as they made their way through the café which was filling up quickly with supper patrons. He didn't respond to every greeting that was thrown their way but did manage several small waves. He walked through the small hall and came to the door of Martha's office.   

Swallowing hard and feeling encouraged by the squeeze that Allie gave his hand, Michael knocked on the door, "Grandmother?" he called out. "Are you okay?"  

"I'm fine, Michael," her tear clogged voice responded.  

Michael shifted his feet, "No, you're not," he countered. "You're crying. Let us in."  

"I'll be just fine!" Martha snapped impatiently. Michael frowned at her harsh tone and was about to turn and walk away but Allie stepped in front of him and banged the door once with her fist.  

"Martha, enough is enough. You are going to let us in and tell us what is wrong with you. We are family and we want to help."  

"Go away, dear," Martha sniffed. "There's no help that can be done. I'm just an old woman who is crying over a past that cannot be changed."  

"Quit being so dramatic!" Allie scolded. "Now let us in."  

Silence followed Allie's demand and Michael tugged on her hand, "We should just do what she says and leave her alone."  

Allie shook her head and when he looked in her eyes he saw the determination lighting up their brown depths, "I'll not leave her alone with her pain, not after all she has done for me."  

With that, Allie pulled a pin from her hair and set about picking the door lock. Michael watched her with surprise. He had known she could pick locks since that was how she had come to him in the attic but he had never actually seen her do so.  

It was with a skill and ease that Michael knew could come from nothing but experience that Allie made short work of that lock and swung open the door.  

Michael's heart broke at the sight of his grandmother. She was sitting at her desk and tears were streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. Her kind gray eyes were red and swollen and she was dabbing uselessly at them with a handkerchief.  

"I told you to go away!" she exclaimed, her face coloring with embarrassment.  

"Yes, and I told you that I wasn't going to," Allie quickly retorted.  

Michael crossed the room to his grandmother and dropped to his knees beside her, ignoring the pain in his back and leg, "What is wrong? Why are you crying?"  

Martha shook her head and laid a gentle hand on his cheek, "It's nothing for you to worry about," she replied, giving him a teary smile.  

"Don't lie to us," Allie warned. "After all you have done for us, we deserve the chance to help you in return. Now what has you so upset?"  

"Allie, honestly, this is something that I don't feel comfortable placing on your shoulders..."  

"Too damned bad," Amelia snorted as she sat on the edge of the desk.  

Martha's hand shot out and her finger wiggled in Amelia's face, "Watch that language, young lady."  

"Grandmother, please," Michael pleaded, desperate to know what was causing such a kindhearted woman so much pain.  

Martha sighed and stared down at her desk. When she spoke her voice was quiet and an emotionless monotone, "It's about your parents, Michael."  

"What ab..about them?" Michael whispered, happy when Allie came up behind him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are they c..coming for me? I'm a grown man s..so they can't..."  

Martha shook her head and shushed him patiently, "No, Michael, they aren't coming for you."  

"Then what's wrong?" Amelia questioned.  

Martha drew in a quivering breath, "Your father is dead, Michael. I received a letter from his attorney today telling me that Jonathan has passed away."  

Michael wasn't sure what he felt. He tried hard to picture his father's face in his mind but it had been so very long since he'd seen it. Mr. Treadwell, his father, hadn't come to the attic often. It didn't matter how deeply he dug, Michael could not find sorrow for his father....  

"I'm not sad..." Michael looked up at Allie with concern, "I am evil just like them, aren't I?"  

"Of course not!" Allie exclaimed as she dropped down to her knees as well and hugged him from behind. "Those monsters gave you nothing to miss, Michael. You have no reason to feel sorrow for them."  

"She's right, Michael." Martha assured him. "I am not crying for the man Jonathon was when he passed; I am crying for that little boy I used to tuck into bed at night. Back then, he was not so evil."  

"What about Mrs. Treadwell?" Amelia questioned. "And Theodore and those horrid boys?"  

"Amelia!" Allie scolded. "That is Martha's family."  

"You are more my family than those people are, dear," Martha countered as she swiped at her tear stained face. "And the letter gives me no details other than to tell me that Cordelia has been sent east to a home for the insane. As to Theodore, Peter and Jacob's whereabouts, I have no idea."  

"They locked her up?" Allie asked.  

Martha nodded, "Yes, and it was a better fate than she deserved."

Michael stood slowly and helped Allie to her feet, "They won't be coming after us will they?" he asked as the reality sank it. He hadn't realized just how much the thought of his parents finding him had been weighing on his mind until the threat was suddenly gone.  

Allie smiled and rose on her toes to kiss his brow gently, "No, Michael, you are free from them completely now. They will 

never be able to hurt you again.“

Chapter thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"I know what it needs," Michael stated as he Allie, Amelia, Pete and Martha stood in the home that Michael and Pete had been working so hard on. Five days had passed since they'd received word of Michael's family and Allie was just now feeling confident enough about Martha's spirit to leave the hotel.  

The woman had been heartbroken and in a bit of a fog for days and Allie's heart had hurt for her. She knew that Jonathon Treadwell had been an evil man but a son was a son and Allie knew that Martha had loved him despite his evilness. The woman did not have a single bit of hate in her soul for anyone... except perhaps her institutionalized daughter-in-law.

"What does it need, Michael?" Martha asked, glancing around.  

Michael walked into the bedroom that he and Allie would share and came out moments later with the red, white and blue quilt that Allie had worked so hard on. He had a smile on his face as he draped it over the couch and Allie felt her heart swell.  

"Much better," he stated.  

"It does brighten the place up nice, doesn't it?" Pete agreed.  

"Yes it does," Martha said from near the door. Allie could tell the woman was attempting to be cheerful for them but she was hurting.  

"Martha, would you like us to stay at the hotel a while longer?" Allie offered gently.  

Martha waved her hand, "Of course not! You're only a few minutes away here and you all have worked hard on this place. Enjoy it. Though I'll expect to see you in the morning, Allie. You're still an employee you know."  

Allie smiled and hugged the woman tight, enjoying the softness of her full body. It was comforting and soothing just as a grandmother was supposed to be, "I wouldn't miss being there a single day, Martha. We love you deeply.'  

"Just as I love you, dear," Martha replied, kissing her temple, "Now, Pete and I should be getting along and letting the family enjoy their first night in their new home."  

"Thank you for letting your hotel be our home while we needed it," Allie said gratefully.

"It will always be your home whenever you need it," Martha assured them.  

"What about me?" Pete asked with a grin. "Don't I get one of them big hugs and a thank you for giving you this mansion?"  

Allie laughed and hugged him tightly. She realized that she wasn't afraid of this man, as a matter of fact she didn't shy away nor feel afraid and uncomfortable around most men any longer. It seemed that even some of her fears and scars from the past had been healed over the last few months.  

"Alright now, y'all have fun," Pete tipped his head and then led Martha from the house, closing the door behind them.  

"This is amazing, Allie!" Amelia cried as she scrambled up the ladder to her loft bedroom. "Our own house! I never once thought we'd have a place that was ours."  

"I didn't either," Allie admitted as she looked around the lantern and lamp lit interior. It was nearing bedtime and the trio had already eaten supper at the hotel with Martha. Allie glanced toward the closed bedroom door and trembled as she thought of the bed that waited on the other side.  

The bed that Allie would share with her husband from here on out. Their bed. In their home. She smiled as she turned her gaze to Michael to see him laughing up at Amelia as the girl danced around the loft.  

Allie let it sink in and settle around her heart like a warm blanket. Family. She had a real, true family. Michael, Amelia, Martha, Pete... these people meant everything to her and she would do anything for them. She would protect them and care for them with everything she had for the rest of her life because that was the kind of family she wanted hers to be.  

"Allie, can we play cards?" Amelia begged, scrambling down the ladder.  

Allie nodded, "I don't see why not."  

Two hours later found Amelia snoring soundly in the loft curled up with the doll that Michael had given to her so long ago, and Allie and Michael curled up together on the porch swing. The summer air was warm around them and Allie was grateful for the cool breeze that wafted through the night on occasion, cooling them as they snuggled against one another.  

"Do you ever worry about Theodore finding us?" Michael asked quite suddenly, the hesitancy in his tone making it clear he had doubts about voicing the question.  

Allie laid against his chest and rested her head against his heart, "No, and I don't want you to worry either. Even if he were to find us here, what could he do?"  

"Try to hurt you again...." Michael's grip on her tightened, "I wouldn't let him do it this time. I would fight harder and protect you...."  

"Michael, that's enough. You did all you could do at the time and no one could have done any better. Theodore is evil and broken just as your mother was. Amelia took good enough care of him with that skillet and I made sure he would remember the lesson well."  

"It might have been all I could do then but I am stronger now," Michael's voice rang with certainty and Allie knew it was the truth. "He'd die before he could ever hurt you again."  

Allie winced, "Michael, don't. You are far to beautiful and perfect a soul to be thinking about anything as ugly and dirty as killing a person. Trust me.. I know how that feels, Michael."  

"Your soul is beautiful and perfect as well, Allie. You shouldn't think anything different."  

Allie smiled and snuggled closer to him, "I'm actually starting to believe you, Michael. All this time and I'm finally starting to believe that maybe I'm not as bad as I thought."  

"Good," Michael sounded quite satisfied and his lips brushed against her temple. "Because you need to believe it."  

Allie looked out over the peaceful night and felt a contentment in her heart that only lying in Michael's arms could ever provide. Life was so good and Allie wanted to believe that it was going to stay that way. She was determined to ignore that nagging in her mind that warned her of all good things eventually coming to an end.  

---

"How was the first night in the new house?" Martha asked the next morning as Allie entered the hotel after seeing Michael and Amelia to the carpentry shop. Amelia's classes were on break for the summer and the girl was happy as a lark to be able to spend her days helping Michael and Pete.  

"Good," Allie replied vaguely as she blushed and slipped past Martha. It was Allie's turn to work front counter of the hotel and respond to any guest complaints or requests. That was Allie's favorite job because it usually kept her quite busy.  

"That's the blush of a woman who's night was more than good," Martha winked. "But I don't want details; that is my grandson after all." She gave Allie a quick kiss on the cheek and then scooted off toward the café to tend to the breakfast rush.  

Allie shook her head with amusement as she settled onto the stool behind the desk and waited for her first request to come. It didn't take long. Towels were needed in room twenty-five and, although cleaning day wasn't until tomorrow, sheets were needed in room ten because someone had gone to bed drunk the night before with their muddy boots still on their feet.  

More requests, checkouts and check ins had her quite busy until it was lunchtime. Allie stepped behind the counter to remove her apron. She was going to take lunch for Amelia, Michael and Pete to the carpentry shop but needed to go into the café to pick it up.  

She heard the door to the hotel open and sighed. It seemed one more check-in was probably going to be required before anyone got their lunch.  

Allie smiled and turned to face the newcomers and the smile instantly vanished from her face. Her hands began to shake and slicked with sweat. Memories of fear and helplessness bombarded her mind as she stared at a face she had hoped to never see again. A face that was sporting a freshly healed scar on each cheek.  

"It's you..." Theodore whispered, his voice barely audible. He stared hard at her a moment, his pale blue eyes boring into hers. Then without warning he let out a growl of rage and launched himself in her direction.  

Allie let out a cry of surprise and tried to dodge him as he came across the counter. His hand closed on her hair and he slung her sideways. Allie threw her arms out to stop her body from colliding with the wall and then she kicked her foot back, catching Theodore in the knee.  

He howled out with pain and his hold on her loosened just enough that Allie managed to yank herself away, though she was sure a fistful of her hair remained behind. Allie came around the counter and that's when she saw Peter and Jacob. They were standing there seeming unsure of what they were supposed to do.  

Allie stared at them a moment too long and Theodore was on her again. "You whore!" he exclaimed. "You caused us to lose everything!"  

"I did nothing to you that you didn't deserve!" Allie retorted just before Theodore's hand collided roughly with her cheek. Stars danced behind her eyes and she stumbled sideways.  

"Kick her ass, Theodore!" Peter bellowed.  

Allie felt a little foot kicking her shins roughly and realized it was Jacob, the oldest of the younger boys. She was outnumbered here and while she could hear commotion coming from the café as people heard the scuffle, her fight or flight reflexes had her running toward the door to outside.  

She could hear the brothers coming behind her. Someone, probably Theodore given the strength they used, shoved her roughly and Allie went tumbling off the boardwalk steps. She felt her palms rip open against the dirt and rocks.  

Instantly Allie rolled onto her back and swung her foot just in time to catch Theodore in the jaw as he bent over her. He was sent reeling backward and Allie tried to stand only to have Jacob and Peter trying to kick her once again.  

Theodore laughed and grabbed her foot. It was clear the man had lost his mind, accosting her like this right out in the light of day. He yanked her across the dirt, dragging her toward him, "You have no idea what you did to our family! All for what? For that hunch backed, stuttering, weak, fool of a monster? You're going to get what's been coming to you....."  

Allie was about to spit on his face and claw at his eyes when a booming gunshot split the air and ricocheted through her ears.  

"What the hells going on here?!" Pete's voice boomed from merely feet away.  

Allie felt Theodore release his hold on her and she quickly scurried backward and stood. She realized Amelia stood on the boardwalk with Martha, Sara, Marybeth and a few hotel patrons. A small crowd seemed to have gathered on the street.  

Theodore's eyes were fixed on something behind Allie and she heard a gun cock. Slowly Allie turned and saw Michael standing there, his blue eyes hard and angry as he stared at his brother. The revolver that Tessa had given them so long ago when they'd left the mansion was clutched in his hand and pointed directly at Theodore's chest.  

"How dare you lay your hands on her again," Michael snarled, not a single stutter to be heard in his voice, no trace of fear or uncertainty as he faced down one of the monsters from his past  

Theodore stuttered several times and Peter and Jacob scratched at their heads, not understanding what had Theodore so completely speechless.  

Theodore took a step back and shoved his hand through his hair, "Michael?"  

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Allie rushed to Michael's side and put herself between the gun and Theodore. Michael instantly lowered it and his deep blue eyes met hers. Allie could see the anger and the desperation in them, She gently reached out and laid her hand over the hand that held that gun.  

"You don't want to do that, Michael," she promised him gently. Michael was too good a soul to have murder on his conscience. Not only that but Martha did not need to watch one grandson kill another.

Michael frowned, "I won't let him hurt you again."  

"And he won't," Allie promised.  

"He already did." Michael countered, his thumb brushing her cheek and causing her to wince when he touched the welt forming there.  

"Nothing I can't handle, Michael. I promise." Michael's gaze softened a bit and Allie kissed his jaw. She turned to face Theodore and felt Michael's arm circle around her waist, holding her tight against him.  

"What is going on?" Theodore demanded. "You can't be Michael."  

"Oh he's Michael, alright," Pete bellowed, putting his gun back in his gun belt, slung low on his hip. "And you must be eight different shades of crazy and a brand new type of stupid to be treatin' a woman like that in my town."  

"I... she's... he's..." Theodore seemed unable to put into words what he was thinking.  

"What's going on, Theo?" Peter asked cautiously.  

"I'd like to ask the same thing myself," Martha declared as she strode off the boardwalk toward her grandsons. "What right do you have to come bursting in here and manhandle a woman in such a way?"  

"That 

woman deserved what she got!“ Theodore exclaimed. “She deserves more! Do you see what she did to my face?” he pointed at the thin, pale, raised scars that went from his temple to his jaw on each of his cheeks. “And she caused my father’s death and led to my mother leaving…”

"Oh hogwash! Your damn mother was always a few ears of corn short of a bushel," Martha snorted. "And my son, your father, probably died of nothing but guilt knowing what a monster he became, locking his son away in an attic the way he did. Why I'd say his heart just gave out seeing what his other children had turned into as well. Wild hooligans who feel they can hurt a woman. I heard what you did in that attic, Theodore Treadwell, and let me make myself perfectly clear, there will be none of that here."  

"Don't talk about my goddamn family that way!" Theodore bellowed, striding toward Martha.  

"It's my family too and I'll talk about them any way I please," she assured him, standing her ground.  

Theodore's fists clenched at his sides, "That whore of a woman is no good. She's a monster loving bitch and I intend to make her pay for what she's done to me and my family."  

Before Allie had time to realize he had released his hold on her, Michael was shooting forward. He grabbed Theodore by the shoulder and spun the man around. Theodore's eyes widened just before Michael's fist plowed into his face and bone crunched.  

Theodore didn't even have time to cry out in pain before he was slumping to the ground unconscious with blood pouring from his nose.  

"You jackass!" Jacob exclaimed, leaping for Michael.  

Michael put out a hand and held him off, "You won't find me so easy to beat up this time, boys. I'm no longer that weak monster in the attic and you no longer have those sticks."  

Both boys paled considerably. Pete went to Theodore and lifted the other man up, tossing him over his shoulder, "I'll just be lockin' him up over in the supply room at the shop and givin' him time to cool off and collect himself."  

"What about us?" Peter declared.  

"You are coming with me," Martha informed them. "As your grandmother I intend to see to it that you learn some manners."  

"And if we don't want to?" Jacob sneered.  

Martha laughed lightly, "Darling, what makes you think you have any say in the matter at all?" She took both boys by the ear and dragged them into the hotel, ignoring their loud protests and cries for help.  

Despite the tense situation, Allie couldn't help but laugh lightly when she saw Amelia making faces and sticking her tongue out at the two boys.  

"Are you okay, Allie?" Michael whispered, coming back to her side as the crowd began to dissipate.  

Allie nodded, knowing it was the truth. She had been through much worse than what Theodore had just done, though it was a blow to her newfound serenity that this had happened here, in their safe place.  

"What about you?" Allie asked him.  

Michael held up his bloody knuckles, "I might have hit him too hard."  

"He was still breathing so you didn't him hard enough," Amelia countered.  

"Amelia!" Allie scolded.  

"I wanted to kill him when I saw him hurting you," Michael admitted.  

Allie laid a gentle hand on his cheek, "That's because you love me, Michael, and when you love someone you defend them with everything you have. Now let's get you home and put some cream on those cuts and wrap them up. I have a feeling the stress of the day is just beginning and will only get worse once Theodore regains consciousness."  

---

"You ain't got no right to lock my brother up that way!" Jacob spat as Pete prepared to leave a spare hotel room to go collect Theodore from the carpentry shop.  

"You'll bite your tongue, young man," Martha warned, her hand falling sharply on the boy's head. "I am your grandmother and as long as you're here you'll abide by my rules."  

Michael stood behind the arm chair that Allie was sitting in and kept one hand on her shoulder. His mind was a sea of conflicting emotions. He wanted to be the kind man that Allie said he was and yet he also wanted nothing more than to shoot Theodore in the head the minute the man stepped into the hotel room.  

Theodore had hurt Allie once before and Michael had been unable to help her and then today he had put more bruises and cuts on her body and Michael had once again not been able to help until it was nearly too late.  

If Allie hadn't managed to run outside, if she hadn't yelled out, then Michael would have never known that she was in danger; would have never known that Theodore was hurting his wife.  

"Why exactly do you people seem to think my sister is responsible for what happened to your mother and father?" Amelia asked as she stood in front of the brothers with her hands on her hips. "Your mother and father locked Michael in that attic when he was little more than a baby because your mother's brain went to mush. And it was Theodore that tried to force my sister in that attic and of course she fought back and gave him two nice scars...."  

"Those scars are what caused mama to go crazy!" Jacob exclaimed.  

Peter nodded and stepped forward, "And mama going crazy is what killed our father!"

"Boys, that's enough," Allie shook her head. "I know you cannot have been born evil because you came from the same genes as your brother, Michael, but you have lived among those people too long and need to see life for what it truly is. Your parents were not good people and they were not honest with you. It was your brother, their own son, that they locked in that attic. Look at this man!" Allie pointed at Michael and he shifted under their intense scrutiny. "Does this look like a monster to you? This man that they starved and beat, does he seem any less human than anyone else in this room? This man that you took sticks to and beat very nearly to death is flesh and blood and heart and soul just the same as you."  

Jacob glared at her, but Peter, the youngest of the boys, swallowed hard and his blue eyes moistened. Allie turned her head and looked up at Michael, "Do you want to say something to them?"  

Michael studied them for a moment and sighed. He didn't hate them. They were his brothers and they were children. They hadn't known any better than to do what they had done. They hadn't known he was their brother, hadn't known he was even a man. All they had ever heard him called was 'monster'.  

"I forgive you both for what you did to me. I would like to get to know you. I never have truly had a brother."  

Michael could tell everyone was surprised by his words. Amelia was muttering something about him being 

soft and Allie shook her head slowly, “You truly are kinder than they deserve,” she whispered.

"Let me tell you...." Jacob was silenced when Martha's hand once again fell across the back of his head. He winced and turned to glare at the old woman who had one hand on her hip and the other in Jacob's face, wagging her finger.  

"You aren't going to be telling anyone anything. The only words I want to hear coming out of your mouth right now are 'yes ma'am' to me and 'yes sir' to your brother Michael over there. Am I understood?"  

"Yes, ma'am," Jacob muttered, though it appeared to take all he had to voice the words.  

"Good," Martha nodded, "You'll be learning to respect your elders, child. You don't go around sassing folks that are older than you because I'll tan your hide every time if you stay here long enough for me to do so."  

"They will be," Theodore's voice came from the doorway and instantly Michael stiffened. His grip on Allie's shoulder tightened and he glared with hatred at the man who had dared hurt his wife. Hatred was a new emotion for Michael and while he didn't like the feeling, he knew it was one he would always feel for the man standing before him.  

'What do you mean?!" Peter cried out with despair. "I thought you were going to take care of us?!"  

Theodore stepped into the room with Pete right behind him. Theodore barely glanced in Allie and Michael's direction and kept his eyes on the floor as he walked toward Martha. Michael tensed, wondering if his brother would dare harm the old woman but Theodore simply stopped and swallowed hard.  

"I didn't come this way for trouble, ma'am," he stated, rubbing at his mustache with his hand. Michael was glad to hear the nasal tone in his voice as he spoke through his nose that Michael had clearly broken. Blood was still bright red on the front of his white shirt.  

"Well that's exactly what you got acting the way you were," Martha scolded.  

"I know, ma'am, and I apologize. I wasn't thinking clearly."  

"Weren't thinking at all you mean," Amelia mumbled.  

"Amelia!" Allie scolded.  

Theodore's feet shifted, "No, she's right, Allie, I wasn't thinking at all."  

"Why don't you go ahead and tell them about what we talked about before we came over here?" Pete asked, nudging Theodore in the back.  

Theodore looked completely sheepish and put in his place as he turned toward Allie and raised his gaze just enough to meet her eyes, "I deserved what you did to me, Allie. What I tried to do to you in that attic was downright disgusting and I'm lucky you didn't aim a bit further south with that knife."  

Pete grinned, "Damn, son, ya got that nearly word for word!"  

Michael stepped around Allie and stood toe to toe with his brother. Michael was surprised to find that he could look straight into Theodore's eyes and there wasn't much difference in the broadness of their shoulders. Theodore seemed surprised as well.  

"Michael, I can't believe that's you.... You look.... Different."  

"I look the way I would have looked if the family hadn't starved me and locked me away," Michael reminded him.  

"Yeah, I know," Theodore sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say. I didn't lock you in that attic, Michael. From the time I was four that's where you were. It was normal."  

"The fact that anyone could find that normal just shows how sick you are, Theodore," Allie spoke up.  

"Don't speak to me, Allie. That brute might have made me apologize, and I'll admit I shouldn't have tried to force you, but if not for what you did my mother and father would still be alive and sane."  

"Your father would be alive perhaps," Allie admitted, "But your mother was less than sane long before I came along."  

Jacob growled and Peter whimpered. Martha glanced at Pete, "Pete, could you take these boys down to the café and get them a bite to eat?"  

"What about...?" Pete tipped his head toward Theodore.  

"I can handle him," Michael promised causing Theodore's eyes to widen slightly.  

"Amelia, go with them," Martha added, leaving no room for even Amelia to argue. Pete quickly ushered the three children from the room and then Martha sat down on the edge of the bed, "Now, Theodore, I know you're my flesh and blood, but surely you realize you can't stay in this town. After what you did to Michael and Allie, you could never be welcomed here."  

"I don't want to stay here," Theodore assured her. "I was simply bringing the boys to the only remaining family I could find word of in my father's possessions."  

Martha tipped her head, "I'll take the boys. I'm fairly confident I can clean up the mess that's been made of them. You aren't welcome to stay here any longer than it takes you to answer my next question."  

"You won't even allow me to stay the night? You don't own this town!" Theodore exclaimed.  

Martha didn't even bat a lash, "No, but I am respected here and Pete is the only law we have for miles and miles. Is it really your wish to anger a town where posses and lynching are still common place for criminals who beat up on women in the streets?"  

"You wouldn't have me hanged," Theodore's voice was shakier than it had been a moment ago. "I'm your flesh and blood."  

Martha spat at his feet as she stood, "You are nothing. Worse than nothing! You could have learned a lesson in that attic after Allie spared your life but you clearly didn't. You are filled with hate, anger and far too much of your mother for me to work with."  

Theodore clenched his fist but Michael put his hand on his gun and it was clear that Theodore noticed the movement from the corner of his eyes. He took a step away from Martha, "Well then, I'll just be leaving town then. I wouldn't want to stay where I'm not wanted."  

Theodore turned toward the door but Martha cleared her throat and stopped him in his tracks, "First you are going to explain to me exactly what happened to my son."  

Theodore sneered, "Why should I?"  

"Do it, Theodore," Michael warned.  

Theodore glared at him but nodded. Michael was amazed at the change in dynamic between them. Theodore was no longer dominant while Michael cowered. Michael was now on even ground with his brother and it was clear that Theodore did not know quite what to make of that.  

"Mother found me in the attic, covered in blood and she lost her mind. She was screaming and crying and when they saw the damage beneath the blood she even tried to take her own life, screaming that she had to 

fix everything. None of us knew what she meant and I don’t think she did either. She went into a catatonic state and stopped talking, eating or making eye contact with anyone. Father had no choice but to send her east. He tried to keep everything quiet but the stress was too much for him and his heart quit.“ The sadness in Theodore’s voice echoed throughout the room and Michael realized with astonishment that he pitied his brother.

Theodore was an evil man, but he had been made that way by the very people who were meant to nurture and nourish him. In the same way that their lack of teaching had kept Michael from becoming them, their presence had turned Theodore into them. Theodore had lost everything in losing them. He no longer had anyone to tell him that the things he did were okay because the rest of the world knew they were not and he was going to be learning that the hard way.  

"The ranch?" Martha asked, her voice weary. "What is to become of the ranch?"  

"I sold it," Theodore replied, his gaze dropping to the floor. "To help cover my mother's treatments and to pay off debts that my parents had kept very well hidden."  

"They were good at keeping things hidden," Allie noted, her voice little more than a whisper.  

"Theodore, you will go east, you will tend to your mother's care and you will 

never come back here. Those boys down there? Forget them. I won’t let you ruin them and I can only pray you haven’t done so already. You will not harm Allie or Michael and you will build your own life and never think of any of them again. Understood?“

Theodore swallowed hard and his throat bobbed as he stared at his feet, "Understood," he whispered.  

Martha clicked her tongue, "Have you no knowledge of respect, boy? You'll look me in the eye when you speak to me."  

Theodore looked up and Michael damn near gasped when he saw the tears in Theodore's eyes. It was clear that Martha was a bit surprised by them as well though she didn't seem to be letting them sway her at all.  

"Understood," Theodore repeated, this time looking at his grandmother as he said so.  

Martha simply nodded and Theodore seemed to understand that that was his cue to leave. He turned and spared one more glance at Allie and Michael, "Michael, you aren't a monster. I'm sorry I said you were. And Allie..." Theodore closed his eyes and swallowed hard before opening them, "I shouldn't have done what I did then or today. I'm not my mother."  

With that Theodore walked away.  

Martha walked to the door as well, "I'll be following him down and tending to the children so Pete can ensure that Theodore leaves town."  

"Martha, are you okay?" Allie asked gently.  

Martha nodded as she squared her shoulders, "I've had time to come to terms with the man my son was, I had time to let his death sink in and now at least I know the why of the death part, though the why of how he became that man will forever be a mystery." With a sad smile, Martha left them alone.  

Michael turned and dropped down to his knees in front of Allie, "Are you okay?" he asked, letting his thumb gently trace the bruise Theodore had left on her cheek.  

"I'm just fine, Michael. You are the one who has reason to not be."  

"Why?"  

"Because of what Theodore told us...."  

Michael shook his head, "You were right before, Allie. Those people gave me nothing and I won't miss them and they don't deserve for me to mourn them."  

Allie smiled and leaned forward, kissing his lips tenderly. She pulled away and met his gaze, "Your grandmother is taking on quite a task with those boys."  

"Yes she is," Michael agreed.  

"Though, after I saw the way she handled all three of them today, I'm quite certain that Jacob and Peter will be the most well-mannered and polite boys this town has ever seen in no time."  

Michael and Allie laughed together a moment, "Do you think Theodore will truly stay away?" Allie asked after several seconds of quiet.  

Michael didn't answer right away. Instead he thought quietly about her question, "Whether he does or he doesn't, won't have any effect on us," he finally replied. "We're stronger than he is and he can't hurt us, Allie. I think Martha made an impact and with any luck maybe he'll straighten himself out. But it can't be something we're worried about. We have a family and a life here and Theodore can't take that away."  

Allie smiled and laid her hand on his disfigured cheek, "I love you, Michael. You're so wise."  

Michael grinned, "Not bad for a man raised on pig slop and storybooks, huh?"  

Allie laughed lightly, "No, not bad at all."

Epilogue

Epilogue

Days passed and became weeks which turned into months. The weather began to turn colder as late fall approached.  

Allie stepped into the hotel and walked over to the fireplace in the entryway. She stood in front of the roaring flames while pulling off her shawl and wiping a few snowflakes from her hair.  

Michael and Amelia came bursting in behind her, laughing at the sight of Jacob stumbling behind them. Jacob had slipped and fallen in the mud and his backside was thoroughly caked in brown.  

"Don't laugh at me," Jacob insisted. "My backside hurts."  

"Well you should have thought about that before you took off running in the mud!" Amelia insisted.  

Jacob smiled at her, "I had to take off running to save your hat. That wagon nearly ran it over."  

Amelia blushed and clutched her hat tightly, "Well, thank you," she muttered before flashing a grin, "But I'll still laugh at your mud butt."  

Peter came into the entryway and held out his arm, "I'll take everyone's coats. Grandmother is waiting for you in the café. She saved a table."  

 Allie smiled at the boys who were the very opposite of what they had been months before. The influence that Martha, Michael and Pete had had on their lives was truly amazing. It had taken a long while before they would speak to Allie, having heard Theodore repeat over and over that she was responsible for their parents being gone but now they were becoming more comfortable and warm even with her.  

Allie laid her shawl over Peter's arm and it was quickly covered by Michael's, Amelia's, Jacob's and even Pete's as he came through the door.  

"Amelia, I'll race you to the table," Jacob teased.  

Amelia snickered, "Alright then, I'll be happy to beat you again." Before Allie could tell them no the two were rushing off toward the café.

Allie shook her head while Pete's laughter boomed, "That's why I never wanted kids. Ya can't do a darn thing with the little mongrels."  

"Hey!" Peter called as he hung up the coats on hooks behind the counter. "I'm not running around and being a mongrel."  

Pete chuckled, "You want to though, don't ya?"  

Peter grinned, "Yeah."  

"Well then go on!" Pete urged with a wave of his hand and then he followed after Peter as the boy dashed away.  

"Are you feeling okay?" Michael questioned as he  walked up to Allie and laid his hand over her stomach which was just starting to grow round and show the evidence of the life growing within her.

Allie nodded and laid her hand over his, "I'm feeling good, Michael. I haven't been nauseous for awhile now."  

"I still worry," Michael stated.  

Allie kissed his lips gently, "I know you do," she replied after pulling away. "Now lets go get something to eat. I feel as if I'm starving to death."  

---

Michael watched his wife sleeping against his chest and wrapped the blankets tighter around them to ward off the chill in the air. He had been awake all night and now it was nearing dawn. Thoughts and worries had plagued his mind and kept him from finding sleep.  

He shouldn't be so conflicted at a time like this. Life was good. Peter and Jacob were turning out to be good children and Michael was learning about being a big brother. Martha was happier than she had ever been now that more of her family was back in her life, Amelia was doing great in school and not a word had been heard from Theodore since he'd written to Martha to let her know he was settling in back east. And the best part of life now was the life growing inside of Allie.  

But it was also that life that had him awake and unable to rest.  

Michael was terrified of being a father. It wasn't that he was worried he wouldn't know how to care for the baby--he knew that Allie would help him learn all he needed to know; what had him afraid was the thought that the baby  would see him and cry. He was scared that the babe would take one look at his monstrous face and be frightened of him.  

Michael's heart broke at the thought. What if he was never allowed to be near his own child because he frightened the boy or girl too badly?  

Allie shifted on his chest and Michael felt her eyes on him. He glanced down at her and tried to force a smile, "Rest, Allie."  

"You haven't been asleep have you?" she asked with concern.  

Michael knew lying would be pointless. Allie knew him too well to fall for any untruth he might try to tell her. "No, I haven't."  

Allie frowned, "Why? I've noticed that something seemed to be bothering you for awhile now but I was waiting on you to talk to me. What's going on?"  

Michael licked his upper lip and let his hair fall over the scarred and disfigured side of his face, "I'm scared."  

"Scared of what?" Allie questioned quietly. She laid her hand over his cheek and pushed his hair from it. "You should never be afraid alone, Michael. Tell me what's wrong."  

Michael swallowed hard. He knew that what he was about to say would probably upset her but refusing to tell her would only upset her more. "I'm afraid the baby won't like me."

"What?" Allie laughed lightly. "Why on earth would our child not like you?"

"Because.. I'm scary."  

"Michael!" Allie scolded. "I thought we talked about you not being scary before!"  

"We have but that doesn't stop me from worrying, Allie. Imagine being a child and seeing something as frightening as me."  

"Michael, how do you know that you are frightening in appearance? Have you even seen yourself since you were small?"

Michael shifted on the bed and ran his fingertips over his deformities. "No. I don't need to see it. I can feel it just fine."  

"Stay here." Allie rose from the bed and left the room leaving Michael to wonder where she was going. He sat up in bed when she returned moments later with a glowing lantern in one hand and a small mirror in the other.

"What are you doing with that?" Michael demanded, squeezing his eyes shut tight as Allie sat beside him. He didn't want to risk accidentally seeing himself and realizing how truly ugly he was.  

"You're going to stop hiding and look in this mirror. You are going to see what I see when I look at you. You'll see a handsome, loving, caring man with the kindest and bluest eyes I've ever seen. A man who loves his wife and his family with everything he has and a man who will be an amazing father to a child who loves him right back."  

Michael felt his hands shake, "I can't, Allie."  

Allie's hand caressed his cheek, "Yes, you can."  

Michael was terrified. He had avoided seeing himself for most of his life. Could he do this now?  

"Michael, do it for me. Please?" Allie pleaded.  

Michael knew he couldn't deny her what she wanted. He took a deep, steadying breath and then, very slowly, opened his eyes. The image staring back at him was not what he had expected.  

Yes, the first thing he noticed was the enlarged cheek bone and the way his right eye seemed to be sunken in beneath the brow. He saw the jagged scar that ran the length of the right side of his face as well. But then he saw Allie in the mirror beside him as he held it out. She kissed his right cheek and he saw the way his eyes lit up from the contact and his lips curved in an automatic smile.  

"See, you are not scary, Michael. You are not a monster who is going to frighten our children away. You are a husband, a brother, a friend, a grandson and in a few months you'll be a father. You don't have to hide anymore, Michael, not even from yourself."  

---

Michael was exhausted but not nearly as exhausted as his wife who was sleeping soundly in their bed after ten long hours of labor. The crowd of family and friends had long since left and darkness was visible outside the window.  

Zachariah whimpered slightly from the pillow beside Allie and Michael scooped the newborn lovingly into his arms. He had just eaten minutes before Allie had fallen asleep and so Michael knew the babe was not hungry. His perfect son. His son with ten fingers, ten toes and a flawless chubby face.  

"Is he okay?" Allie's sleepy voice asked.  

Michael nodded and kissed her pale brow, "Just fine," he assured her. "You need rest, Allie. I'll tend to him."  

"I love you..." Allie whispered as sleep once again began to claim her.  

Michael smiled and stood from the bed. He cradled his son against his chest and carried him out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him so Allie could rest undisturbed.  

Michael tip-toed to the nursery and stepped inside. He used the matches on the table to light a small lamp and the glow of the firelight danced over the cradle that Pete had handmade for Zachariah. Michael didn't want to lay the boy down just yet so he held him against his chest and settled down in the rocking chair instead.  

Michael had made the rocking chair himself, spending hour after hour, day after day hunched over pieces of wood and crafting a chair that he was real proud of.  

"Alright, little one, there's nothing to be fussing over," Michael assured his son when the child whimpered again. "Your daddy is right here."  

Zachariah's blue eyes looked up at him and locked with his own. Father and son stared hard at one another and then Zachariah quieted down and drifted contentedly off to sleep.  

Michael's throat tightened with emotion. His son was not afraid of him. He trusted him enough to sleep peacefully while Michael rocked him gently in the chair.  

It had been a little over a year since Allie and Amelia had found him up in that attic and Michael was amazed at how different life was now.  He had learned so much in that time and he had gained more than he had ever thought possible. Life was good, it was peaceful and Michael was finally free of every ghost and demon from his past.  

He looked down at his slumbering son and smiled, "Sleep well, Zachariah. Your daddy will be right here when you awake."