Chapter 43

When she left the Tyndale home, she turned her horse toward John’s house, taking her time so she could think about what she wanted to say. She wondered if John had known all this about Helen Harrington and Gannon Tremont. Did he know the gift was from their mother’s side of the family? Was she the only person in the provinces that knew nothing about her own family?

She snapped the reins hard and the horse started and went into a fast trot. At this point, she was unwilling to admit that she’d been deceived but there were certainly things she should have been told. The reasons for not doing so didn’t matter. She should have been allowed to know and decide for herself what was important.

The children were nowhere to be seen when she pulled up and she realized they probably were in school, at least all but Lilly. Lilly was still recovering from her broken leg and was probably inside.

Lillian called for her to come in from the front room. She was seated on the sofa next to Lily who was propped on pillows, toys scattered around her and spilling onto the floor. Lillian had a book in her hand. Obviously, she’d been reading to the child. She lay it down and smiled at Sam.

“Well, about time you came to see us!” she said and started to get up.

“Don’t get up, Lil’! I’ll get my hug later but I want to see how my special angel is doing.”

Lily smiled and her rosy cheeks dimpled. “I’m very well, Aunt Sam. Will you come sit with me and read a story? I like the way you do it.”

Lillian laughed and stood up, handing the book to Samantha as she passed her. “Well, I know when I’ve been dismissed.”

Sam laughed and sat down next to Lily, gathering her close so she could see the pictures in the book as well as enjoy the sweet scent of the soft blond hair. “Where did she stop, Lily?”

“Sleeping Beauty had taken a bite of the apple. She’s fallen asleep, you know. She isn’t dead. Prince Charming will come kiss her awake soon.”

“I see.” Sam found the page and opened her mouth to read but then stopped.

“What’s wrong, Aunt Sam? Can’t you read it?”

Carefully, she smoothed the pages of the book and thought about what she was going to do. Lily was probably the only one who could really answer the question and John would never ask it.

Sam lay the book aside and shifted to face the child. “Lily, can I ask you some questions?”

“Sure you can but aren’t we going to read?”

Sam patted her hand. “Of course we are but in just a minute. Lily, Mari told me something and I want to ask you about it.”

She frowned and her blue eyes became troubled. “Am I in trouble, Aunt Sam?”

“What? Oh . . . oh no, Lily! You’re fine. I just wanted to ask you about some things Mari said. No one is in any trouble.”

The small face cleared and the bright smile returned. “O.k. then, you can ask me.”

“Lily, I have dreams where I see things that sometimes happen.”

The deep blues eyes grew large and round as Lily slowly took in what Sam was saying.

“Do you ever have dreams like that?”

From the mantle the clock ticked the minutes away. Sam waited as Lily studied her face with a frown. Finally, she looked down and picked up a small doll, cradling it in her arms. “I have dreams sometimes. Sometimes they are funny and don’t mean anything. Mama says its beans.”

Sam smiled. “I have those, too.”

“You do?” Lily looked up into her face.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“But then, sometimes,” she looked down and patted her doll, “sometimes, I have other dreams. Strange dreams about people I don’t know sometimes. Then, sometimes I know the people.”

“Tell me about one of those dreams, Lily.”

Lily pursed her lips, tapping the bottom one with her slender finger and squinting into space. “Let’s . . . see.” Her face cleared and she smiled. “I know. One night I dreamed that you and Daddy were in a dark place.”

Sam flinched.

“Daddy had a stick with fire on it and you were following him through this very dark place. I could hear a roaring somewhere and . . . it was a scary place. There was something in the darkness that I didn’t like.”

“Could you see it?”

She shook her head and her curls bobbed. “No, I couldn’t see anything but you and Daddy and the light. I was a little afraid but I knew you would be safe with Daddy. I . . .” She frowned and fell silent.

Sam nudged her arm. “What, Lily? You what?”

“I thought . . . I don’t know. I didn’t understand why you were in a room with lots of boxes. One moment you were in this dark place and then you were in a room with boxes. I thought maybe it was a store and you were buying toys or something. But I didn’t see any. And . . . you were afraid.”

Sam remembered the trip to White Beach and the cave with its storeroom of boxes. She remembered her fear as she stood behind the shelves.

Her own blue eyes gazed into Lily’s and then, she looked away, through the front window, out into the yard. Ryder Tremont rode up to the porch and stepped down from his horse. She hadn’t seen that coming, for sure. And she wasn’t ready for it.

She lay the book on Lily’s lap and patted her arm. “Lily, I have to go talk to your mother for a minute. Wait here.”

Lillian was in the kitchen peeling potatoes. She glanced around when she heard Samantha enter. “Done already?”

She moved toward the back door as she spoke. “Lil’, if you’re asked, I’m not here at the moment. I’ve gone down to the kennels.”

Lillian lay the knife and potato on the counter and turned, wiping her hands on her apron. “What?”

Lily ran in then. “Mama, there’s a man at the door wants to see you.”

Lillian looked at Sam as she slipped out, carefully closing the door behind her.

The path to the kennels was well trod and after she got past the back fence, it was fairly concealed from the house by the woods. She was there in minutes. The dogs set up a ruckus as soon as she entered. She grabbed a handful of treats that John kept in a bin near the door. He would speak to every animal he passed and give them a treat. Sam made her way along the aisle, looking into each stall, speaking to the animal, and tossing a treat. Some animals knew her but some were pups she hadn’t seen.

“What are you doing here?”

She jumped, her hand jerking on the head of the dog she was petting. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m petting Toffee. He remembers me.”

“He should. You’ve spoiled him completely. I don’t know if I will be able to find a buyer for him.”

“Pooh, you never have trouble finding a buyer and you know it. Everyone wants Channing dogs.” She ruffled the dogs ears and he closed his eyes, appearing to smile in pleasure. “I’ve been thinking about buying him myself.”

“Sergeant would never allow it.” He began sweep aisle, heading toward the back of the building.

“He’d like a companion.” Toffee made a groaning sound and rolled over for her to scratch his belly. She laughed.

“Not a rival, though.”

She looked at John.

“You belong to him. You start giving your affections to another male, he’s not going to like it. You want another dog, I’d suggest a female.” He swept a few more paces before he added with a grin. “I suspect he’d appreciate that.”

Sam studied Toffee. He was cute but John knew his dogs. Sergeant might not like the pup and could possibly hurt him. She studied the long hallway of stalls. There was a female halfway down.

“I’m not getting another dog,” she said, “not even to give Sergeant a mate.”

John chuckled and swept on. After several minutes, he asked, “So, what’d you come for?”

Sergeant strolled along the hallway, sniffing at each door and moving on. He seemed at home in the kennel and he didn’t harass the other animals on the other side of the doors.

“Have you ever heard of Helen Harrington?”

He paused, leaned on the broom handle and stared into space with a look of concentration. Sam couldn’t tell if it was contrived or not.

“Someone’s grandmother,” he said, “I think.”


“Our’s.”

He looked surprised. “Really?

She nodded. “Actually, she’s probably a great-great-grandmother.”

The swish-swish of the broom resumed and the small pile of dirt grew.

“How about Gannon Tremont?” she asked.

“Ryder’s relative?”

“You never heard stories about them?”

He bent over to sweep under a narrow table along the wall. “Not that I recall at the moment but I could have and don’t remember. Is there a reason I should?”

“Gannon Tremont testified against Helen Harrington before the Council.”

He stopped sweeping, straightened up, and stared at her. “Tremont?”

“Gannon Tremont was in love with Helen Harrington. She rejected him. He accused her of being a witch. They were brought before the Council of Nine and questioned for three weeks.”

John’s eye widened and his mouth rounded. “Where did you hear all this?”

“The Misses Tyndale told me about it. It’s in the Council records.”

“I’ve never heard any of this.” He leaned the broom against the wall and went to fetch the dustpan from the closet. When he returned he swept up the pile of debris and empted it in a trash can next to the back door. “Are you sure they weren’t just stringing you along? And they are kind of old. I’m not sure they have all their nuts in one basket.”

Sam laughed. “They’re brighter than most of the Council members.”

“That’s not a recommendation, Sam.” He chuckled as he poured water into a basin and washed his hands. He nodded in the direction of the table he’d just swept under. “Could you take that bowl of food and give it to Maggie?”

She did as he asked, sliding the bowl through the slot in the gate for that purpose. Maggie was one of the largest females in John’s kennel. She stood at least three feet at the shoulder. She’d had several litters of some of the smartest dogs John had ever trained. Sergeant was her son. She was no longer bred but some of her daughters had inherited that smart gene and had produced some intelligent pups.

“So, what does all that stuff mean, Sam?”

“I think Helen Harrington is the Helen I saw when I fainted the other day.” She hesitated a minute. “She said her name was Helen.”

This time John sat down in a chair at his desk in a corner of the large main room of the kennel. “Sam, that was a vision. You didn’t see a real person.”

A clock ticked loudly on the wall and she looked up at it. She’d never noticed that clock before.

“Sam?”

She sighed. “I don’t always know what’s real and what’s dream. That’s part of the problem. Dreams feel different. When I’m in the vision, I am aware, at least I am now.”

He frowned. “Meaning you weren’t before? When did it change?”

“After our visit to the circle.”

The frowned deepened. He clearly didn’t like that.

“And I’m learning that a lot of what I see has happened or may happen. I can’t predict which I’ll see and for the visions of the future, I don’t know if there is a way to change outcomes or if what I see is unchangeable.”

“That doesn’t help much. I suppose it’s a good thing you can’t change the past.”

“Why?”

“Neither of us might be here.”

She smiled. “I would.”

They were both laughing when Ryder walked into the kennel.