Then began crying.
Annie stepped forward.
But stopped before reaching the stretcher.
For a moment, she looked from her mother to William.
Then toward me.
As though she did not know which adult would allow her to move.
I knelt beside her.
"Go ahead, sweetheart."
She looked up.
"Really?"
I smiled through tears.
"She's your mother."
Annie ran toward the stretcher.
The injured woman reached for her.
They embraced carefully.
The child cried into her mother's shoulder.
I stood beside William.
His face was unreadable.
Grief.
Relief.
Anger.
Confusion.
All of it moved through him.
He stared at the woman he had mourned for seven years.
She looked toward him.
Their eyes met.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she whispered, "William."
His jaw tightened.
"You were alive."
She began crying harder.
"I'm sorry."
He stared.
"Seven years."
She closed her eyes.
"I know."
He looked toward Annie.
Then back at her.
"You let me bury my daughter."
The woman covered her face.
I felt the words like a blow.
There was no simple answer.
No romantic reunion.
No easy forgiveness.
The child was alive.
The mother was alive.
But seven years of deception stood between them.
And nothing could erase that.
The sheriff intervened gently.
"She needs medical attention."
William nodded slowly.
The woman was carried toward a wagon prepared for transport.
Annie tried to follow.
I took her hand.
"Sweetheart, the doctor is going to help your mother."
She looked frightened.
"Can I go?"
The sheriff considered.
Then nodded.
"We can arrange for her to be nearby while her mother is treated."
Annie looked toward William.
He knelt.
"You're not being sent away."
She swallowed.
"Promise?"
He nodded.
"We're going to make sure you're safe."
She looked toward me.
I smiled.
"And we'll know where you are."
The little girl relaxed slightly.
She hugged William again.
Then hugged me.
The gesture surprised me.
Her small arms wrapped around my waist.
She whispered, "Thank you for the chicken."
I began crying all over again.
I kissed the top of her head.
"You're welcome, darling."
Then she followed the deputy toward the wagon.
William watched until she disappeared down the trail.
For a long time, he remained silent.
Finally he looked at me.
"I don't know what happens now."
I took his hand.
"Neither do I."
His eyes filled.
He glanced toward the mountain.
The old mine.
The collapsed passage.
The secrets buried beneath the house.
Then he looked toward me.
"I should have told you more about my past."
I nodded slowly.
"Yes."
He swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
I looked at him.