Web hosting Custom Email SiteBuilder

Homecoming

by Susan McNeill

Kermit reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture one more time. Savannah had picked up the photos the day before he left to meet Paul Blaisdell. He was grateful that he'd had a piece of them handy for the past two weeks. Now the mission was over and he was coming home. Home to a family. No mission had ever ended that way. Now they all would.

Savannah had reacted in a completely opposite direction than what he expected when he told her about Paul's request. Blaisdell needed his help for a couple of weeks in Europe. Kermit knew he wouldn't call on him if there were anyone else for the job. He expected her to try to keep him from going. What he got was rock-solid support from someone with faith enough to know that he wouldn't go if it wasn't vital. "Go do what you have to do," she said. "We'll be here when you're done."

"From what Annie tells me," Paul spoke up from the seat beside him, "she thinks you've picked a winner...this time." He reached over and took the photograph from Kermit's hands.

Savannah and Baby Kat were both dressed in white. The young mother's long blonde hair was draped over her shoulder and the baby's hand was wrapped in a curl. They both shared the same sparkling green eyes and dimples. A tiny white bow rested lightly in Kat's curls. Savannah's expression was one of gentle pleasure. Kat, on the other hand, flashed an energy that leaped off the page to laugh in your face. Only six months old and already a heartbreaker.

"She seems surprised," answered Kermit, taking the picture back for himself. "So do you."

"Not at all. Annie knew you didn't stand a chance the minute she met your lovely bride." Paul had never known Kermit Griffin to be truly happy. Until now. When Annie had gotten word to him about the marriage and the baby, he couldn't believe it at first. Peter had filled him in a few months earlier about Kermit and this woman and the trouble with their old acquaintance, Ericson. Kermit had sent her away to protect her. Paul had watched him shove countless people out of his life for the same reason. Even his own sister for a time. Then, out of the blue, the news of this woman's reemergence reached him. Kermit was going to be a father.

Paul's reaction contained a myriad of emotions. Joy, hope, pride, and worry. The thought of Kermit Griffin having the chance for a child's love seemed to much to ask. A new challenge for a man who shot first and asked questions later. Subtle lessons to be learned. Perhaps this would bring grace to his troubled soul. It was the woman that worried him.

Was their commitment built on a rock or quicksand? The obvious reason for the marriage was the pregnancy. Archaic conventions of morality never seemed to confine Kermit Griffin but he wasn't one to run from responsibility. He'd married the mother of his child and was pumping all his energy into building a life for this baby. The ex-mercenary's choices in previous wives had been dismal failures. How could Paul be sure that this choice was any better? The odds were against it. Annie seemed to feel otherwise and he was trying to reserve judgment. Hoping that this wouldn't crumble like the others. Losing a wife who couldn't cut his lifestyle was one thing, but losing a wife who'd take his flesh and blood with her upon departure was infinitely more devastating. A loss Paul wasn't sure Kermit could stand.

Even after all these years, Paul still felt the need to protect him as if he were still that naive twenty year old from long ago. In his heart, Paul Blaisdell *felt* like Kermit's father. Or, the closest thing to it in this life.

Paul had been Mitchell Griffin's best friend. Maybe his only friend. If there had ever been a man consumed with his work, it was Kermit's father. Driven and dedicated. Traits he passed on to his son. He viewed his job in weapons development as his way of serving his country. During the initial build up in Vietnam in the early sixties, Paul and Mitchell had connected and hit it off right away. Although Mitchell was a civilian and Paul a government agent, they were made of the same stuff. Both passionate and stubborn in their pursuits.

Although Paul admired Mitchell and knew he was a good man, he had one shortcoming. In his relentless dedication to job and country, his family was left behind. Physically, he was there but once he poured out his energy on the mound of projects he committed himself to, there was little remaining for his children. Paul had only met Kermit, Marilyn, and their younger brother David a couple of times before Mitchell's death, but he picked up on their longing for any drop of their father's affection. Interest. Or time. Mitchell cheated them...and himself.

Mitchell was killed on his first trip to Vietnam. Supposedly a freak accident with a new type of anti-personnel mine, but Paul would always have his doubts about the so called "accident." He always insisted on testing the equipment personally and was blown to pieces in a split second. When Paul brought Mitchell's body home for burial, he immediately connected with Kermit. He had just turned eighteen and was itching to blame someone, anyone, for his loss. After months of physical and emotional sparing, Paul was finally able to break through Kermit's sullen, angry shield, and become his substitute father. Kermit needed a guide. Paul needed to hold onto the only piece of his friend within his grasp.

Paul tried to protect him by having Kermit serve under him in Vietnam. He had failed. The torture that the young man had endured still twisted Paul's heart. The mercenary path he'd chosen to follow afterwards had been difficult for Paul to accept even though Kermit was, in effect, following in his footsteps. That life was without mercy. Kermit didn't seem to want mercy. His personality cried out for struggle. With struggle there could be victory. He was starving for victory.

Kermit was every bit as much Paul's son as was Peter Caine. Sons of two different generations. One wanting independence as well as acceptance but with too much pain to let go and give in return. The other, desperate for affection to fill the emptiness left by the loss of his family. Fatherless sons who found the same surrogate. Two different sides of the same coin - one, detached, the other with his heart on his sleeve. Both good men. Good sons.

Kermit had come in from the cold to join the 101st precinct and be Paul's ally in a sea of civilians. Though he'd assumed the trappings of a normal life, the merc still ruled his insides. Detachment and smart remarks isolated him from intimacy. Don't get too close. Don't get burned.

After a while, Paul could see him start to slip. Kermit started to care about the people he worked with and even let them see glimpses of himself from time to time. Trust came later. Paul had tried to subtly pair Kermit and Peter together time after time. Each had qualities that, when combined, made them unstoppable. A sometimes volatile combination, but effective. He was pleased to see that the seeds he'd planted were flourishing.

In spite of his concerns, Paul had to admit that Savannah must be some woman to be able to break down that wall of stubbornness and pull him out into the light. Soon, he'd be able to see for himself.

For the first time in three months, Paul Blaisdell was going to have the chance to be with his family. He'd worn the corners of his own family photo trying to hold a piece of his girls near while he'd been away. Annie and Kelly were already at the cabin. Caroline and her family would join them tomorrow. Since the flight Paul and Kermit had taken would land at an airport only sixty miles away, the Blaisdells had invited Kermit and his new family to join them for a long weekend. Peter volunteered to drive Savannah and the baby up from Sloanville for the homecoming celebration.

The stewardess leaned over Kermit's shoulder to ooze over his photograph. "Oh. What a beautiful family. I guess you're glad to be going home."

"Oh yeah," he replied.

"Well, Mrs. Griffin," announced Peter Caine, "I'm certain that the world is about to stop turning. You're actually on time." Peter took Savannah's bags and loaded them into the back of the Ford Explorer he'd borrowed for the long trip up to the cabin.

"Now, Peter," replied Savannah as she strapped Kat's infant seat into place, "it's not nice to poke fun at your navigator."

"So that's your title now, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," she drawled in true Griffin-esque fashion. "That's how Kermit finesses his way around letting me drive the Covair. According to him, it's his job to drive and my job to navigate." Savannah climbed up into the passenger seat as Peter buckled his seatbelt. "Of course, I generally navigate us where I want to go."

"Okay, are we ready to go?" Peter wanted to be sure because he had no intentions of being late. When Kermit had called the day before and asked him to drive his wife and daughter to the cabin for the weekend, the ex-mercenary had made it clear that he expected them on time and safe and sound. Not fulfilling his part of the bargain would probably result in a great deal of damage to Peter's person. Not worth the risk.

"Ready to go. Aren't we, Kat?" Savannah turned around in her seat to tickle the baby's leg. Kat let go a jubilant giggle in agreement.

Peter was happy about the reunion they were on their way to but the scene he'd had with his father earlier was eating away at him. The Caine legacy was difficult to live up to, to say the least. The years since his father's reappearance had be fraught with contradictions for the young man. Joy and resentment. Longing to cling to that father lost so long ago but wanting independence. Respect. And even space. Peter couldn't bear the thought of his father leaving him again but when he was there...sometimes he was too close.

Once he had completed his training, Peter assumed he would be past all these negative feelings. Even though he declined the brands, he HAD earned the right. Possessed the knowledge and skills the discipline required. He had earned his adulthood. STILL...every opportunity Caine had to intervene on his son's behalf, he took. The last straw had come a few days ago.

It was the same situation that had repeated itself over and over again. Peter had reached the resolution of a case. The suspects were confronted and it turned violent. Caine had appeared out of nowhere to join the fray. After the perps had been scrapped up from the pavement and he'd taken the last remark he could stand from Morgan about "having his Daddy for a partner," Peter had unloaded on his father. Told him that "he didn't need his freakin' help" and stormed off. When he'd gone to his father's apartment the next day to apologize, Caine had already left for California with Lo Si to retrieve several artifacts from the temple in Braniff.

Peter felt stupid. He'd assumed that completing his training would magically transform him into a man with no negativity. No resentment. Like he wouldn't still have to control his own emotions. *What an idiot!* he thought. *You got what you wanted. On your own...for the weekend, at least.*

As they pulled out of the driveway and started on the three and a half hour drive to the cabin, Savannah could feel her butterflies beating their way around her stomach. The last two weeks had been the longest of her life. She would never have asked Kermit to refuse to help Paul. From what Kermit had told her, Paul became his father. Trained him. Guided him. And depended on him. Helping Paul Blaisdell was part of who Kermit Griffin was - not just something he did. Changing or controlling him wasn't a goal of hers. Savannah had fallen in love with Kermit just they way he was and wanted him to stay that way. A passionate, loyal man. The violence he wrapped himself in would never stop troubling her but she understood that it was just that. Wrapping. What rested in the middle of that turmoil was a good man.

He'd come to her to tell her about Paul's request. The fact that he included her in his decision spoke volumes about the bond they'd forged together. He needed her support and he got it. Savannah and Kat had driven him to the airport and sent him away to an undisclosed destination with hugs and happy faces. Then she'd driven to Annie's house and cried for an hour. What if he didn't come home? How do you do this year after year? Should I have tried to stop him from going?

Annie Blaisdell had offered her what little comfort she'd come by over the years. It's a difficult lesson for the wives of soldiers and police officers. Their job is to wait. "This is the man you signed up for, dear. If he suddenly became some 'sofa jockey' you wouldn't recognize him. All we can do is keep the life they have here whole and safe for them when they finish their job. That's the part of the game you play." Annie reached out for her young friend's hand. "You've got a much more difficult mission than Kermit will ever find on some foreign soil or at the precinct. Taking care of Katherine and holding your family together. He can do anything as long as he knows that baby is in your capable hands."

Two days ago she'd received the package he'd sent from Italy. Inside was a pair of tiny hiking boots for Kat. In his note, Kermit had said that he wanted Kat to be "the only baby on the block with Italian shoes." He also said that he wanted to give Savannah her present "up close and personal." She'd had that note in her pocket ever since. Evidence that he was bullethole-free and on his way home.

When he had called yesterday morning, Savannah wanted to crawl through the phone line and wrap herself around him. That would have to wait until this afternoon.

Kelly Blaisdell jumped into her father's arms in the middle of the crowded airport. If Paul hadn't braced himself, they would have probably hit the floor. "I can't believe you're here!" she cried and held on for dear life.

"Well, here I am, Squirt," Paul replied, squeezing out three months' worth of hugs from his youngest.

From a short distance away, the ex-mercenary watched the reunion with a quiet smile. Kermit could envision another little dark-haired girl greeting him this way, years from now. At the moment, he'd settle for tossing her up in the air and hearing that familiar squeal in his ear.

"Hey," Kermit complained as he arrived with their bags, "I'm feeling left out."

Kelly shared a quick hug with her father's partner. "Mom can't wait to get that little cutie of yours and Caroline's baby under the same roof. Looks like we're going to have a regular nursery school at the cabin this weekend."

"And plenty of babysitters, too, I hope," grinned Kermit. He hoisted his duffel over one shoulder and tossed the other to his partner.

"Where's Mom?" asked Paul.

"She's at the cabin, cooking enough for an army."

"Well, we'd better not keep her waiting. Don't want to start our homecoming with an angry hostess."

They all piled into Kelly's car and headed out. Once they were on the way, Kermit dialed Peter's cell phone. He couldn't wait a couple of hours to hear her voice again.

Paul was filled with amusement at Kermit's impatient dialing. *If that call doesn't connect, the poor guy will explode,* thought Paul, laughing silently.

"Caine here," Peter said into the cellphone. "Yes, sir, boss. Got your wife and that little angel right here...."

Savannah snatched the phone away with an excited squeal. "Hi, Sugah. Where are you?"

Peter just grinned. He couldn't wait to call Kermit "sugar" to his face. *On second thought, maybe not,* he decided.

"Yes, she's perfect and the shoes are on Cinderella's feet. We should be there in a couple of hours after we stop once to let this little girl of yours unwind for a while."

Savannah leaned back in her seat and a wide smile spread across her face as she listened. "Me, too. Ba-bye." She shut off the phone and flashed those dimples at her chauffeur.

"Happy now?" Peter asked. He knew she was. Peter had seen that same look on Annie's face year after year when she knew that Paul was safe after one of his mysterious disappearances. He was happy, too. He hadn't spoken to Paul in months.

"Yes, I am!" she announced. "Even though it is pretty hard to squeeze sugar from the phone when you have an audience. Now where are we going to stop?" Savannah pulled out a map and assumed her duties as navigator. "How about....Peter, slow down. Look at that sign."

The sign read, "Crystal Springs - 12 miles". There was an arrow pointing down a dirt road. Right below that, there was a smaller advertisement for an antique store.

"Oh, no! There's no way I'm going 12 miles out of the way so that you can shop," Peter protested. "If we're late, I'm dead. Literally."

"Please?" Savannah turned on the Southern charm. Eyelashes batting and dimples at full throttle. "I want to pick up something for Annie and we can get a bite. Don't worry. I'll take the...heat. That's the right word, isn't it?"

Peter had to laugh. If Kermit didn't stand a chance with this woman, he sure as hell didn't. *Why waste the energy.* "Okay. But just thirty minutes. Call Kermit so he knows we'll be a little late."

Savannah, beaming with success, dialed his number. No connection. "Must be out of a cell. I'll just call after we leave."

Peter pulled into the small town and parked in front of a cafe on the main street. It was also the only street. "Welcome to Mayberry," Peter joked, checking his watch.

"Oh, don't be so stuck up, Peter," Savannah chided as she bounced out of the truck to retrieve Kat. "This is great! Better than some convenience store on the highway."

Peter stretched his legs and surveyed the little town. *Not bad, if you're into taking a nap everyday,* he thought. He joined his two charges at the front of the truck. Kat was babbling happily, propped on Savannah's hip. In her chubby little hand, she was squeezing her best pal. A stuffed frog that Kermit had kept on his desk since he'd taken up residence at the 101st. Kat had grabbed it on her first visit to the office and had been using it as a chew toy to help pop out her brand new teeth.

"Okay, Mr. Excitement. You go flirt with a waitress while Kitty Kat and I go fulfill our mission." She and the baby headed down the street.

Savannah had just stepped up onto the sidewalk when she was treated to an extremely loud, rude wolf whistle. She hesitated and turned back toward Peter. Peter was already heading toward her but his eyes were on the source. There were three men standing across the street in front of what appeared to be a combination pool hall and local bar. All of them holding beer bottles and leering at Savannah. They just stood there laughing as Peter took his place beside her.

"Just let it go, Peter," she said with a nervous smile. "It's not the first time I've been whistled at, Dearie." She was trying to keep him from crossing the street but still, she was uncomfortable. Kat was still laughing and waving Froggie but her mother had pulled her a little closer.

The men turned and went back into the building. "Ya' see?" Savannah reassured him, "No harm done." With that, she took off toward the antique shop. Peter stood outside the cafe watching the two of them until they were safely inside. He shook his head. "Just a bunch of jerks, Caine. Get over it." Though the window of the cafe, he spotted a cute waitress who looked to be in need of a conversation. He ran his hands through his hair and went in to occupy his time.

"They're not late yet, Kermit." Annie walked up to the porch railing to stand beside Kermit.

"No. But knowing my wife, they probably will be." Kermit wrapped an arm around the hostess and gave her a little hug. "How did she do while I was gone? Really."

"She did what you'd expect her to do. Worried, waited, and took care of your daughter." Annie returned his embrace. "She's up to it, my friend. Steel Magnolia, that one."

Kermit had to laugh. Incredibly corny, but she was exactly that! People who didn't know them well, thought them to be an odd couple. Their age difference sometimes attracted attention. She teased him about being his "middle age trophy." He'd threatened her with a spanking after that remark. Their personalities were equally different. Savannah, soft and polite and friendly. Kermit, hard and cocky and cynical. In truth, they brought out the opposite traits in each other. Compliments. A perfect team, as the past months had shown. Both pulling together. Being part of a unit was new for Kermit. He'd always been a "free agent." It felt good to rely and be relied upon. He checked his watch one more time.

When she'd said good-bye at the airport two weeks ago, she had truly put on a brave face. Kermit had kissed the baby and put her down in her stroller. He was wearing the new black leather coat Savannah had bought him for his birthday. "I'd prefer to have this back with no nasty holes in it, okay?" she'd said, pulling his collar together.

"Got my word on it, Scarlett." Then he'd kissed her and gotten on the plane.

All the way to Europe to link up with Paul, Kermit had worried that he had gotten soft. Would he hesitate at the wrong moment for thinking of these two he left back home? Contrary to his fear, when things got hot, thinking of them made him sharper. He had more at stake and more to stay alive for now.

"Hello. Earth to Kermit," Annie laughed, tugging on his sleeve. "I want to hear about the big surprise!"

"I'll just bet you do," he replied. "It's all arranged for after Christmas."

He should probably wait until the holidays to let the cat out of the bag, but he couldn't wait to see the look on Savannah's face. *Hell, she'll need all the time in between to pack,* he laughed to himself. She'd just been too pregnant to go on a honeymoon when they were married months ago. All she wanted to do was stay at home and be together. Now that Kat was getting older and they weren't so paranoid about leaving her, he could give his wife the trip they had to miss.

"I think a week in Paris is what both of you deserve. I always knew you were a romantic."

"Well, don't spread it around," Kermit answered. "I do have a reputation to uphold."

*****

Savannah left the shop with Kat in one arm and her package in the other. She'd found a tapestry pillow for Annie, grabbed a bag of candy for Kermit, and was heading toward the cafe when someone blocked her path. "Hello there, honey."

He was one of the men from the bar. The other two had moved in on either side of her. They reeked of cigarettes and beer. She felt trapped and her grip on the baby tightened. "Excuse me," she said and tried to walk around them.

"Now not so fast, baby," the ring leader slurred down into her face, as he moved to block her again, "we're just trying to be friendly."

Savannah could feel the panic rising in her throat. She'd been trapped before. They were slowly backing her up against the wall. Kat had picked up on her mother's emotions and was beginning to whine. One of the men laughed and reached out to tug at her hair. She slapped his hand away, dropping her package. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" she yelled.

"For somebody who's new in town, she sure is unsociable, right, Deke?" The man put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her into the wall.

"Looks like you guys need a lesson in how to treat ladies." Peter Caine already had his hand on the shoulder of the man touching Savannah. With an effortless tug, Peter sent him tumbling into the street. Peter turned his back to Savannah and stood in front of her. The man on his left made a sloppy, drunken swing at Peter's head which he blocked without even looking. "Or maybe, I'll just kick your asses!" Peter, with a smile on his face, kicked the man into the street to join his buddy. The third, and biggest of the crew threw a couple of punches, which Peter blocked easily, then landed in the street along with the other two.

People gathered in little clusters on the tiny street were staring at the confrontation. The three drunks got up off the ground and retreated to a pickup truck then screeched off down the dusty street.

"Who said this place had no excitement?" teased Peter as he turned around to check on Savannah and the baby. When he saw the look on her face, he wiped the smile off his. She was white and shaking like a leaf. Holding onto Kat like her life depended on it. He could almost read the memory on her face. This must have taken her back all those months to that nightmare at Kermit's house before they were married.

Peter picked up the bag she'd dropped, took the baby from her and wrapped a protective arm around her. "Hey, it's all over now, Honey. Let's go sit down and get something to eat."

In a shaky voice, she answered, "Do we have enough time?"

"Sure. We'll call and let them know we'll be a few minutes late," Peter said as they began to walk toward the cafe.

When they reached the cafe, Chrissy, the waitress Peter had been charming, met them out front. "Are you okay?" she asked, patting Savannah on the arm. She nodded and the girl continued. "Those creeps come into town once a week, get drunk, and make trouble. Deke and his buddies aren't like the rest of us. This is actually a pretty nice town." She opened the door and they all went inside.

Kat was clapping her hands and giggling in Peter's ear. Looking at her with pride, he said, "You're Kermit's kid, all right. Just love a good fight, don't you, Tadpole?"

Chrissy led them to a booth and got a high chair for Kat. After she'd calmed down, Savannah said, "Peter. Thank you. I think we would have been in trouble if you hadn't come along when you did."

"I thought you might need some help carrying whatever you bought and this little girl, too." He gave Kat a little tickle on her cookie-smeared face. "Just doing my job, ma'am."

"Let's don't tell Kermit about this. You know how he is. He'd probably come all the way here just to crack their heads." She looked nervously down at her coffee.

Peter did know how he was. Since he'd already cracked their heads for his friend, he didn't see any reason to make an issue of it. He patted her hand and agreed, "Sure. No problem."

Savannah took a deep breath and visibly shook her head in an attempt to banish her rattled nerves. Unsuccessfully. "Now, I'm twice as nervous as before. As if this meeting wasn't hard enough already."

"Meeting? Hard enough already?" Peter was totally confused. Then it dawned on him. She meant meeting Paul! "Savannah, don't worry about Dad. He's a great guy."

Looking a bit startled, she jumped at an explanation. "Oh, Peter. I know he must be a wonderful man. Feel like I know him already from everything Kermit's told me. It's just that...well...Paul is like Kermit's father. They have a history.

"Peter, the thing that worries me is that Paul didn't approve of Kermit's choices in wives before. Told him so. Kermit dove in anyway and Paul's predictions were accurate. Crash and burn." She absently stirred her coffee and worried some more.

"Good thing his taste improved with age," Peter teased, trying to ease her discomfort. Paul was a good man, yes. But he pulled no punches. Could be damn intimidating at times.

"I have this nightmare about him taking one look at me and thinking, 'Oh great. Another one who can't cut it and I'll have to pick up the pieces when she splits.'" She shifted her attention toward the baby, and began wiping her chocolate-covered face.

Peter understood how she felt. He'd felt similar pangs in his lifetime. Wanting others to believe in his strength of purpose. "Look, as long as YOU know how you feel and that you're strong enough to be with that guy, Paul will know, too." Peter paid their check, along with a generous tip for his favorite waitress, and helped gather their things.

"Well," she answered as she pulled Kat from the high chair, "I hope you're right. I'd hate for him to sue for custody."

"Of KAT?!"

She flashed a back-to-normal grin, and replied, "No...of Kermit!"

*****

After Peter had left Crystal Springs in his rearview mirror, he dialed Kermit's number to let him know when they could be expected. No connection. "Well, guess we'll just have to wait until we're back on the highway."

Savannah was lost in thought. She was more than a little disappointed at the way she'd let those creeps rattle her. She'd let herself be cornered. Petrified. Couldn't protect herself or, worst of all, Kat. Unforgivable. Kermit relied on her to take care of his child and she blew it. If not for Peter Caine...."Peter," she asked, turning toward her friend, "do you think your father would take me as a student?"

*Should have seen this coming,* he thought. "I've never known him to turn anyone away."

"I'm tired of feeling like this piece of fluff who needs to be rescued all the time." She looked back at Kat, who was dozing peacefully in her carseat.

"There's nothing wrong with needing a hand every now and then. But Lady, you are definitely not a piece of fluff!" He understood, in a strange way how she felt. This was one of the reasons he'd decided months ago to complete his Shaolin training. Control over his fate. Maybe, a part of him wanted to be on a more even footing with his father. Tired of being rescued all the time....

Something behind them caught his eye. Peter could see a vehicle coming up fast behind them along the gravel road. The back of his neck began to prickle when he realized who was following them. He stomped the gas to speed up.

Still watching them in the mirror, he spoke calmly to his passenger, "Savannah, I want you to reach behind my seat and get my gun for me."

"Why?" she asked, looking out the rear window. Instantly, she knew. "Peter..."

"Look, it's all right. They're probably just trying to scare us," he lied, trying to keep from panicking her. Those three were drunk and angry. Kicking his butt was probably the kindest thing on their minds. "I've just got to beat them to the highway."

Savannah had learned enough from living with Kermit to follow Peter's instructions. She unhooked her seatbelt, retrieved his weapon, then put it in his hand.

Their pursuers had the advantage. They knew the roads and Peter had to be more cautious. Couldn't anticipate the curves and rough spots. Within minutes, they were side by side. Two of the men were inside the cab and the third was hanging onto the roll bar on the back. Evidently, they had drowned their humiliation in a few more beers. The three were trying to ram Peter's vehicle with a truck made more of Bondo and rust than metal.

Peter took a side road on two wheels and bought them some time. Not much. In seconds, they were back. Trying to nudge their way in front to cut him off. His palms were sweating. There was no way he was stopping. Here in the middle of nowhere with one gun and a woman and a baby. No one knew where they were. He didn't know where they were. No backup coming.

Savannah was holding onto the door. Knuckles white. With the other hand, she kept dialing and redialing Kermit's number. He'd never get there in time to stop what was happening, but at least someone would know where they were. No connection. Over and over.

Peter used the same maneuver time and time again. Throwing the vehicle down winding side roads. They just kept coming. Roaring up beside them. Smashing into the side panel of the truck. The guy in the truck bed was laughing and tossing beer cans. The road Peter found himself on was narrow and filled with loose gravel and potholes. Not accustomed to driving anything but the Stealth, he had a difficult time negotiating the obstacle course laid before him. A thirty foot drop off to the right. Three lunatics to the left. He'd held off using his gun. Didn't want to draw fire and put Savannah and the baby in the path of a bullet.

With that thought still hanging in his head, he heard the glass shattering the window behind him. *That bastard is shooting!* he screamed in his head.

The entire world exploded at once. A thousand sounds and movements. Savannah screamed and dove into the backseat to cover Kat. Peter, blindly returned their fire, trying desperately to hold his vehicle in the road. Their next shot disintegrated his left front tire. Balance disappeared as their vehicle lost connection with the earth. Airborne and sailing into disaster. Peter reached for his passenger in the seconds before they slammed into the bottom of the raven. In a brief flash, he saw something tossed from the interior of the truck and disappear in a blur of tree branches and shattering glass.

*****

"Dammit, Deke!" Joe yelled as they sped away from the scene of the crime. He peered behind them as they left the wreck in a cloud of dust. He was suddenly sober as a judge. "We gotta' go back!"

"Shut up!"

Raff was hooting in the truck bed. "Did you see that! Teach that son-of-a-bitch!"

Joe was sure he'd vomit. They'd killed those people. Nothing they'd ever done came close. Shame overwhelmed him but cowardice prevailed. He shut up. Just as he was told.

Through the fog of pain and semi-consciousness, Peter could hear the baby screaming. He focused on that thread of reality and followed it. As his head began to clear, the horror of the drop off the side of the road returned. The sound of Kat's continued wailing yanked him fully awake.

Something was pressing hard against the side of his head. He could feel his heart beating in his temples. The side of the truck was mangled inward and smashed against his arm. He tried to move and felt fiery pain flash through his shoulder. There was shattered glass covering his shirt and blood running into his eyes. One of his legs was jammed into the dash. Peter had to fight the airbag out of his face so that he could catch his breath.

"Kat, honey," he said, trying to comfort her. "I'm coming." He turned his head toward the backseat and twisted toward the baby. She was hard to see. There were tree branches and other debris scattered throughout the vehicle. Ignoring the stabbing pain in his leg and shoulder, Peter unbuckled his seatbelt and cleared a path to the hysterical child.

In a vision rivaling a sunrise, Peter found Kat in one piece. Infant seat held firmly in place by her seatbelt. Branches had pierced the backseat on both sides of her but had left her untouched. She appeared to be uninjured except for a few tiny scrapes. Just scared to death. Peter took a deep breath and kept trying to get through the wreckage to the baby.

He was almost to the panicked infant when Peter had the breath sucked out of him again. Looking past the baby, he saw Savannah lying in the dirt a good 20 feet from them, body draped over a log. Her hair was matted with leaves and blood. Peter could see gaping tears in her coat and her leg was twisted in an unnatural angle. He couldn't see her face and worst of all, he couldn't see her breathing.

*God, no seatbelt,* he remembered. Savannah had been fighting to protect the baby from the gunshots when they crashed. *Don't let her be dead,* he prayed.

Empowered by adrenaline, Peter forced his way through the tangle of branches and luggage out of the vehicle. Focusing all of his energy, he isolated the blinding pain in his leg. He had one goal. Caring for the two ladies his friend had entrusted to him.

Peter pulled the infant seat from it's perilous resting place and sat it on the ground beside Savannah's still unconscious form. Filled with dread, he reached for her throat. She had a pulse! Maybe Baby Kat's luck was contagious. Carefully, he began to examine her, trying not to move her anymore than necessary.

Savannah's leg was broken. It was a gory, bloody wound with the jagged end of the bone protruding up through her thigh. She had landed across the log, impacting her ribcage. From the ragged, struggling breaths Peter heard escaping her lips, he was sure those ribs had punctured a lung. Her abdomen was rigid. She was probably bleeding inside.

"Savannah! Honey, can you hear me?" Peter was down on his knees beside her, calling into her ear. There was dead silence except for Kat's desperate cries.

Peter could hear Kermit's words echoing in his head. "Take care of my ladies, Caine." His friend had put his family in Peter's hands. The family he'd fought to build and kindled his soul inside. Here they were. Kermit's wife broken in pieces in the dirt and his child stranded in the wilderness with a protector who wasn't exactly batting a thousand.

Savannah groaned and tried to move. Peter stroked her hair and whispered, "Hey, Honey. We've had an accident...."

Her words barely audible, Savannah said, "Kat...."

"The baby's fine. She's right here screaming her head off."

A slight smile crossed the mother's lips then she was hit by a spasm of pain and coughing. Peter tried to hold her in a more upright position to ease her breathing.

His leg was throbbing. Peter hadn't taken the time to check his own injuries carefully. His head was bleeding and he had to repeatedly wipe the blood from his eyes with his sleeve. Every movement of his arm sent a wave of pain right through him. If he'd had to describe it, he felt like he'd been beaten with a baseball bat. He didn't have time to deal with himself right now. He was moving and breathing and that was enough for now.

Exhausted from her unattended cries, Kat had dropped into a fitful sleep. The only sound that remained was the increased howling of the wind through the trees above. The wind changed and blew a frightening smell through the air. Gasoline. He looked back at the wreck. There wasn't any smoke visible but he had to move them fast.

Peter picked up the baby and took her to a clearing a safe distance away. Then he went back for Kermit's wife. The thought of the pain he was about to inflict on her made him sick to his stomach.

She was moving in and out of consciousness. Peter leaned down into her ear and quietly explained why and how he was going to move her. "I'm so sorry, Honey," he said, knowing the suffering that was to come. "I'll be as gentle as I can, but this is going to hurt a lot."

The blood had begun to clot around her leg wound and luckily, there didn't seem to be any major bleeding. Peter tried to immobilize the area as best he could and began the painful process. Slowly, he rolled her into his arms. The intense pain jolted her back to consciousness and left her screaming in agony, then gasping for the breath she'd just released.

Peter stopped to let her rest for a moment. His arm was on fire. Probably dislocated his shoulder. Focusing once again, he grasped the pain with his mind and masked it. He was whispering into her ear. Trying to calm her down if he could. This was ripping the guts right out of him. Running his arm under her injured leg, he lifted her up.

This time, the pain won her over and she went limp in his arms. Peter was grateful for the tiny bit of relief she'd been granted. Half walking, half stumbling, he carried her over to rest beside the sleeping baby.

He had to risk going back to the vehicle. Peter hobbled back to retrieve what he could. He searched for the cell phone and found it in pieces near where Savannah had landed on the ground. "Plan A shot to Hell," he said, to no one.

Miraculously, he found Kat's diaper bag intact. At least he'd be able to keep her fed and dry. He grabbed a couple of blankets from the back of the truck and whatever he could find to keep them warm. There were a couple of drinks rolling around on the floor and he found his gun. He was glad to have it. In addition to the wind, he'd heard an unfamiliar howling in the distance.

Not wanting to stay away from Savannah and the baby for too much longer, he took a brief survey of the area. The embankment was too steep to climb in his condition. It was the same terrain as far as he could see. To reach the road, he'd have to search for an easier access. That meant leaving an injured woman and a baby alone. No time for that at the moment.

He returned to his charges to find Savannah still unconscious, but breathing. Kat was also sleeping. Peter covered them both with a blanket and sank down beside them. Disaster was the best word he could use to describe the situation. *Pop....you show up today and I'll keep my big trap shut for a hundred years.* In spite of all his efforts, he felt blackness slipping into his mind.

*****

Kermit was dialing Peter's cellphone for the hundredth time. Still no answer. He'd paced a path in the carpet.

Paul had now joined his trek across the den. "Kermit..."

"Don't tell me to relax!" he snapped. "They're an hour and a half late. No call. No nothing."

Paul was trying not to appear as frantic as he felt. Peter was as much his Child as if Blaisdell blood coursed through his veins. The thought that he was....Paul pushed it out of his head. "Maybe the phone's just out."

Shaking his head, Kermit replied, "No. Savannah would stop and use a land line to call here. Keeping track is something we have an understanding about." His wife had accepted the fact that she wouldn't know where he was every second of the day but when either of them promised to be somewhere, they kept in touch. It kept them sane and safe.

Grabbing his coat, his birthday present, he headed toward the door, "I'm going to look for them."

"Annie," Paul directed, moving to follow Kermit, "you and Kel call the highway patrol and the hospitals between here and home. I'll keep in touch." He raced after Kermit and jumped into the car as the ex-mercenary sped off in search of his wife and child.

*****

"Peter...." Savannah was weakly calling to him. Trying to touch his arm. Digging up from his slumber, Peter forced himself awake. Time had slipped away from him. Checking his watch, he realized that they had been here for a couple of hours. *Kermit should be pissed as hell at me by now,* he thought. He reached over to check on Savannah. She was white and her skin was clammy. Holding her head gently in his hand, he helped her take a drink out of one of the cans he'd rescued from the truck. She was in serious pain.

"Honey, just relax. I'm going to try to help you feel better." Peter was weak himself. He wasn't sure how much healing he could offer. Although his training was complete, his practice was lacking. *Pop could probably have her dancing in ten minutes.* He reached to touch her under the blanket.

"No!" she stated, summoning what little energy she had left. "Peter....Kermit told me about this 'thing' you can do. It weakens you...doesn't it?" She paused to catch her breath.

"Yes, but not so much," he lied. A necessary evil at the moment.

"Don't lie to me. You can't do anything to make yourself weaker." Her voice was fading. "Someone has got to take care of the baby. You're...hurt...and...." Her strength had been exhausted and she started coughing again.

It was difficult to admit, but Peter knew she was right. No one knew where they were. Those bastards who caused the accident sure as hell weren't coming to their rescue. Peter was the only chance Savannah and the baby had to get out of here alive. All this skill he'd taken such pride in seemed useless.

"Okay," he agreed, reluctantly, "you're right. Happy?" He noticed a slight smile cross her lips.

"Yes," she whispered.

"But I can do something to help ease the pain a bit....for a while," Peter explained. "I'll control the flow of energy just enough to mask your pain for a while. Give you some relief, okay? I promise to pull back before it goes too far."

As if it were involuntary, she started to giggle. "I...bet you say that to....all the girls."

"You're just as nuts as that husband of yours."

Peter touched her gently. Opening his mind and reaching out to her. The pain and fear were swirling around within her being. Slowly, he attempted to pick his way through the confusion. The intensity of her pain shook him. How could she be conscious? He let the power of his chi flow into her. Covering her pain. Wrapping his essence around her thoughts to block the waves of agony surging through her body.

It was working. Peter could sense her calm returning. There was still pain but the magnitude had decreased. She could rest for a while. He pulled himself back and tried to regroup. He had to do something to help himself, too. If he was going to be able to keep them all alive, he had to be able to function. Centering himself, he was about to begin when Kat jolted out of her dreams. Wailing at the top of her lungs.

Savannah was trying to move. Trying to get to her baby. "Stop, Honey. Don't move. I'll take care of her." Turning his attention to the baby, Peter evaluated the situation. Wet. *That's easy to fix,* he thought. Digging through her bag, he found a diaper and faked it. When it didn't fall off at her first kick, Peter assumed his diapering job was good enough. Still, Kat screamed on into the trees. Hungry. Peter found a bottle in the bag and Kat sucked it dry in minutes. Temporarily satisfied, Kat began to amuse herself by tugging on her new shoes.

It was getting dark. Cold. That distant howling was still there. Peter had to build a fire and concentrate on getting them through the night.

*****

The headquarters of the highway patrol was an hour away from the cabin. Paul and Kermit had driven the distance, scanning the roadside for any sign of their missing family. Kelly had called to say that there had been no reported accidents on the highway between there and home and no one matching their family's description had shown up at the hospitals. Not a sign anywhere.

Kermit skidded the car into a parking space and leaped out toward the office. Bursting in with Paul on his heels, he addressed the trooper at the front desk.

Flashing his badge, Kermit announced, "I'm Detective Kermit Griffin, Sloanville P.D. I want you to process a missing persons report. ASAP."

The trooper, obviously overworked in the nearly empty station and annoyed at being commanded by some pushy cop, replied, "You do, huh? Well, sir, yes sir!" He didn't move. Only sat there staring.

Paul could see the screws tightening in Kermit's neck. He attempted to step into the lead role in the conversation, only to be cut off before his first word.

"Listen....Trooper Davis...my wife and daughter and HIS son are missing. I want you OFF your ass and DOING your job...NOW!"

The description of the missing group seemed to get his professional attention. "All right," he began, opening a new file on his computer terminal, "how long have they been missing?"

"Two and a half hours."

He dropped his hands from the keyboard and gave a disgusted look at what he deemed to be a ridiculous request. "You want me to file a missing persons report for people missing for two and a half hours? The rule is forty-eight hours. Being a big shot detective, you should know that."

Kermit leaned over the desk into the Trooper Davis's face, while Paul reached for the back of his coat. "You're goddamn right! To hell with the rules and to hell with you. You get that report started and get people out there looking for them or I'm coming over this desk and do it myself!"

Unflinching, the trooper shot back, "You'd better calm down or I'll have you removed from this office right into the slammer, Detective!"

"LET ME TELL YOU HOW I FEEL ABOUT BEING REMOVED!!!!"

Paul wrapped his arm around Kermit's chest and yanked him back before he snapped the other man's neck. Physically, Kermit could have broken away but Paul understood that he held enough command over him that he wouldn't fight him. "Sorry, officer. We'll come back."

"PAUL! What the hell are you doing?" Kermit turned his anger on him as he dragged him outside.

"Kermit, just..."

"How can you be so fuckin' calm? Your son's out there, too." Shaking off Paul's grip, he stood there fuming.

Taking the role of commander with this man he'd trained from a pup, Paul grabbed his shoulders and said, "Listen to me, dammit! We need them. Shut up and let me work." Paul pulled his cellphone and placed a call. Turning his back to the seething detective, he spoke in a low voice then snapped the phone shut. "Come with me." Paul returned to the station with Kermit in tow.

A satisfied smile on his face, Paul Blaisdell addressed Trooper Davis, "Trooper, I would like to apol...."

He was interrupted by the blaring of a telephone. The aggravated officer snatched up the receiver and identified himself. Listening intently, the man began to offer a myriad of "Yes, sir's" and "Right away's". Hanging up the phone, he addressed the pair with a completely new attitude.

"Mr. Blaisdell, is it? That was the governor's office. My commander is on his way here now. We're at your disposal."

*Well, I'll be damned!* Kermit thought. He sat down with the officer and began providing every impassioned detail he could to put them on the right track.

Darkness had fallen hard and heavy. After Peter had started a fire, he stepped away from Savannah and the baby to pull himself together. He had to do something about his shoulder. Having endured this particular injury during his hockey days in high school, he knew the proper way to put the shoulder back in place. Problem was, it required two people -- the victim and someone to pop the arm back into the socket. Savannah was in no shape to move, much less help him. All that was left to him was the improper way. Peter positioned himself in front of a small tree and prepared. Sucking in a deep breath and clamping his teeth together, Peter slammed his injured shoulder into the trunk of the tree.

As the bone joint returned to its natural position, the molten pain flashed through his body, dropping him to his knees. Blinded and breathless. Peter grasped the tree and tried to focus. Tried to ride out the wave of sickness without screaming out loud.

Little by little, control returned. Moving into a seated position, he began to direct his energy to the weakened parts of his body. Peter had seen his father heal far more savage wounds in his own body. *Pop...I've got to do this. Those two are depending on me for a way out of this disaster.* Peter felt a warmth travel through him. Oblivious to the outer world, the healing energy coursed through his body. Strengthening the aching muscles and clearing his mind.

He stopped short when he realized that his resources were being exhausted. The pain in his leg was still there but lessened. With Savannah in such a perilous condition, he had to reserve his strength. If she suddenly took a turn for the worse, regardless of her wishes, he'd have to focus his energy into her body.

Kat began to cry again. Hurrying back to the fire, he lifted her up. "Hey, Tadpole. You don't like camping?" Obviously not. No amount of baby talk or bouncing seemed to quiet her.

"Peter...give her to me." Savannah had been awakened from her fitful sleep. She was reaching up to try to get to the baby. "She goes to sleep here every night." She patted her chest, gesturing for Peter to lay her there.

"Wait a minute. There is no way you can hold her with those ribs. It'll hurt like hell." Peter continued to pat the baby on the back, to no avail.

"I don't care. GIVE HER TO ME!" She began to cough after her exclamation.

Arguing seemed pointless. He eased Kat down onto her mother's chest. She wrapped her tiny arms around her neck and sighed her relief. Grasping her mother was the only familiar moment she'd felt in hours. Kat was only an infant but she knew something was terribly wrong. Knew she wasn't at home. Knew the adults nearby were afraid. Her only release was to cry. Now, resting on her mother, she relaxed.

Savannah ran one hand up and down Kat's back, whispering softly into her ear. Though her voice was quiet and comforting, Peter could read the intense pain on her face. A tear ran down her cheek. The weight of the baby on her internal injuries must be excruciating.

After about fifteen minutes, Kat's easy breathing signaled her arrival into a restful slumber. Peter lifted her slowly from her mother's chest and wrapped her in a blanket between them. Savannah bit her lip to suppress a gasp of pain when the baby's weight left her body. Now, with Kat peacefully dreaming, Peter turned his attention back to Savannah. Getting her something to drink and pulling the blanket closer to her chin.

"I hate camping." Savannah managed a weak laugh. Peter was so tense and she understood how badly she was hurt. She didn't know how badly he was injured.

"Hey, if we had coat hangers and marshmallows it might be different." Peter knew that they were trying to keep the subject off the obvious. No one knew where they were. Though their families were certainly looking by now, they didn't know where to look. Peter couldn't risk trying to carry her out. With her injuries as serious as they were, one more move could kill her. It was cold and getting colder. And there was that howling....

"Peter, you'll have to take her and leave me in the morning." It was a statement of fact. A fact Peter wasn't yet ready to talk about.

"Look, let's just get through tonight. Let me worry about that. Come morning, I bet your husband's gonna come barreling down here to kick my butt for getting you into this." Peter was trying to ignore the elephant sitting there beside the fire. They both knew no one was coming.

"If you recall...*I* got us into this. I'm so sor..." He touched his finger to her lips to silence her needless apology.

She knew it was pointless to argue at the moment. Savannah knew she was slipping. The fire in her side was returning. Her thigh was pulsing and she didn't dare risk moving and reigniting the raw, bone-chilling pain there. Thoughts were more difficult to organize. She was fading, but not ready to give up. The thought of leaving Kat...alone...motherless, was more painful than her broken body.

"Peter, how old were you when your mother died?"

"Just a little older than Kat." He was confused by her question at first. Then....

"What do you...I mean...do you remember her?"

Now it was clear. She thought she was going to die here. Leaving Kat without a mother. What she really wanted to know was would this little girl remember her. Peter ran a quick ethics check then answered. "Yes. I remember her. Her smell and her voice. The way she rocked me to sleep at night and sang to me. She had a...gentle way that stayed with me after she was gone. Her smile and laughter. She's with me every day."

"And after she died, you and your father, you...were okay?"

Right now, they were far from "okay." *Whose fault is that, Pete?* Growing up with his father was all he ever knew. Caine had been annoying at times to an adolescent boy. But the warmth between them made up for that. Their personalities were always different. In time, Peter had come to realize that different was all right. His father loved him simply the way he was. These flashes of understanding were coming a bit too late, in Peter's opinion. They illuminated his screw-up of a few days ago. "Yeah. I guess we were all right. Things were difficult for him, I suppose, but we managed. If we hadn't been separated, we would have probably lived a pretty normal life." He managed a smile for her. "Or as normal a life as a bald kid in a temple can have."

"I'm sure that was an interesting look for you." Savannah sighed with relief at his answer. "I need you to promise me a few things..."

"Okay. Let's just stop this 'deathbed' crap. You are NOT, I repeat, NOT leaving me to explain this little detour to Kermit on my own. Got it?"

"Peter. I may not have another chance to say these things, so shut up and listen."

The time for lies had passed. He knew it and she knew it. It was time to deal. "All right. You say what you have to, but bear in mind we'll be laughing about this in your living room next week."

"Tell Kermit...HE is to raise our daughter. Not my parents. Not Marilyn. No boarding school. HIM. And I want him to stay right where he is...Sloanville. Where his *family* is." She paused, voice breaking. "Tell him...I love him and...."

Peter picked up her hand and kissed it. "I will. Now, rest so I don't have to tell him these things at all, okay?"

"You sure are bossy for somebody as beat up as you...." She drifted back into a traumatic slumber.

*Okay, Pop. Now would be a good time,* he thought as he threw another log on the fire. That now-familiar howl echoed in the distance. Peter checked to be certain there was a bullet in the chamber and rested his gun in his lap. He decided not to sleep.

****

It was as if they had been swallowed by the highway. No accident report. No sign of them anywhere. Kermit Griffin had scanned every inch of the highway at thirty miles per hour. No sign anywhere. He'd passed panic hours ago. He was raw with fear.

By the time the word had gone out from headquarters, it was dark and too late for a chopper to do any good in a search. All patrols had descriptions and had been instructed to make finding the trio "top priority per the Governor." Still, nothing.

"Kermit, we're seventy-five miles from Sloanville. We know they made it past here. We should stop for the night." Paul could see the pain and exhaustion in Kermit's body. Hands choking the wheel. Eyes scanning the roadside like radar. Not wanting to miss a broken tree branch or piece of scenery out of place that could signal a vehicle leaving the road.

It was nine o'clock. It was cold. And all Kermit could think of was Kat, in her new boots, out in the freezing cold. "So, you want to stop looking and crawl in some warm bed somewhere?!" he snapped. "Nice, Captain."

"No, STUPID! I want to find my son, dammit. But we CAN'T find them in the dark. What if we pass them in the night? What if you get so tired that you miss the one sign of them there is?" Paul sat back and pulled his control back into place. "Think, kid."

He understood that Paul was right. Paul was ALWAYS right. Times like this, that really pissed him off. But how could he do it? How could he check into some comfortable bed when his whole life, Savannah and Kat, had dropped out into a void somewhere?

"Kermit," Paul tried again, "you know Peter would do whatever was necessary to keep them alive. Falling apart WILL NOT help them. Stop up here." He directed Kermit to a small hotel down the road and called to check in with Annie and the highway patrol. Still no sign of them.

Paul checked them in and practically ordered the detective into the restaurant for coffee and dinner. There, over dinner, Paul tried to pull Kermit out of the dark visions of death he could read on his face. "Tell me about her."

"You know Annie's already told you about her." Kermit smiled into his coffee in spite of his pain. "She's been really nervous about meeting you."

"Why in the hell would anybody by nervous about meeting me?"

"Well, you're the only member of the..." he paused, then finished, "family she hasn't met yet."

Paul understood what Kermit was trying to say in his roll-around-the-sentiment style. "Sorry I missed the wedding. At least you had Marilyn there."

"Yeah, Savannah and I were both kind of short in the family department on our wedding day." Kermit was twisting his wedding ring.

"Your father would have been pleased to see you with a family."

"My father could have cared less if I ended up with a family or not. Didn't know shit about it himself." The words just came spilling out. He wasn't sure from where. Everything he'd learned about being a father, he'd learned from Kat...and Paul Blaisdell. His own father was never there enough to qualify. The resentment he held never faded. When his father died, when Paul brought his body home, the chance to ever have those close ties between father and son shattered.

Paul couldn't argue to any great degree. Mitchell was a good man but he let his family slip away over the edge of his obsession with work. "Be grateful that you got a second chance at a family. He never got that chance." Attempting to change the subject, he poured Kermit another cup of coffee. "So, Peter was your best man?"

"Oh, yeah," Kermit couldn't help but laugh at the memory. Savannah had teased Peter later that the best man was twice as nervous as the groom. Kermit had threatened Peter with a trip to the emergency room if he lost the ring. When he got it stuck on his little finger....

*****

"CAINE! You'd better get that ring off or I'll cut it off!"

Peter Caine was frantically tugging at the wedding band he'd slipped onto his little finger. Kermit had threatened to raise Peter's voice an octave if he lost it. It might fall out of his pocket, so he'd slipped it onto the end of his finger. "Calm down, Kermit. It's coming off...eventually."

Just as Kermit was making a move to peel ring and finger off his best man, Caine walked quietly in between them. Gently, he took his son's hand in his and the ring slid easily into his palm. "Here is the ring. Kermit, are you well?"

He didn't *feel* well at all. Not cold feet. This was something he wanted more than his next breath but the *idea* of it had him in what Savannah would call "a tizzy." "Why wouldn't I be? It's not like I haven't done this before. Hell, I have a Ph.D. in wedding day etiquette." Pulling his shades down onto his nose, he glared at the amused look Peter was throwing his way.

"Yes, but they were not like this wedding day." Caine placed a fatherly hand on Kermit's shoulder. He understood the magnitude of this choice. Kermit was forcing his fear and past down into the void and reaching up for the light. Even though he *still* didn't feel worthy of it. "You are not the only one who is uneasy about this day."

Instantly, Kermit forgot the buzzards beating around in his stomach. "Is she all right? This might be too much for her. She shouldn't get upset...."

"Do not be alarmed. Your bride-to-be is well. Mary Margaret and your sister are with her and she is as anxious to take her vows as you are, my friend. She did ask me to tell you not to 'fret', if that is the correct term."

"That's the correct term, all right!" hooted Peter Caine.

"Shut up, Peter, or I'll tell Savannah about the *entertainment* you arranged for the party last night and she'll use her secret sauce to barbeque YOU." Kermit looked up to see Mary Margaret, hand over her eyes, coming into the room.

"You guys decent?" Removing her hand, she quipped, "Oh, darn! Well, you can't have everything. Here, Kermit, a gift from the bride." She tucked a small package of gummi bears into his pocket. "She *knew* you'd be nervous and thought if you had these to keep you busy...you okay? You look sort of...green?"

"Yes, dammit! I'm fine! I'm calm. Okay?!!" Softening, he asked, "Is she feeling all right?"

"Yes, dear. She's fine and beautiful." She leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek. "I'm so happy for both of you. Better get back. She's fine, but just a little wired."

*****

"I look like a big, white circus tent!" Savannah was turning sideways in the full-length mirror provided for them by the hotel. Finding a wedding dress had been quite a feat with only one week to prepare for her big day. Jody and Mary Margaret had gone shopping with her and endured the curious glares at every bridal shop when an extremely pregnant Savannah identified herself as the bride-to-be. After spending an entire exhausting day, they found it. A soft, chiffon dress that fell to her ankles. She adjusted the pink ribbon that rested just above her rounded stomach and touched the pearls around her neck. Something borrowed from Marilyn.

"Now, do we have everything?" Marilyn stood behind her soon-to-be sister, arranging the tiny white flowers woven through her hair. "The something old...."

"My Great Aunt Maddie's handkerchief."

"Something new...."

"The dress, or should I say, the tent!" She patted her tummy and frowned into the mirror.

"Something borrowed...."

"Your mother's pearls, which you were sooooo sweet to let me wear."

"Something blue?"

"Now, Marilyn," Savannah turned to her and started to laugh, "I elected to change that tradition, in light of your precious brother. This bride will wear somethin' *green* and no, I won't say what it is."

Giving her a light squeeze to avoid crushing her dress, she giggled, "Oh, no! He's infected you, too."

Savannah felt pangs of guilt at the way Kermit had handled all the arrangements for the wedding. He'd worried that she would do too much and wear herself into exhaustion. Kermit had taken care of every detail except her dress, he left that to the ladies. All she had to do was show up at Sutton Place and take her place beside him in front of Caine and their witnesses. Then, become his wife.

Rapping lightly on the door, Mary Margaret came into the room, holding the bride's bouquet. "Well, Kermit's gift arrived. Boy, the guy just doesn't do anything halfway, does he?" The special surprise that Kermit had ordered was a beautiful bouquet of orchids...a private message between the two of them.

A deeper voice called their attention to the door. Frank Strenlich had graciously offered to give the bride away. Her parents had apparently elected to boycott their daughter's wedding. A pregnant daughter marrying an ex-mercenary who stated his profession as "I kill people" must not be their dream come true. Frank had a daughter. Had a soft heart, also. "Savannah, Caine says that they're ready whenever you are." He offered his arm.

"Well, I'm ready all right," she said, gathering her flowers and slipping her hand through his offered arm. "I'd better hurry before he chickens out and heads for Beruit!"

*****

From the moment Savannah appeared at the end of the aisle on Frank's arm, all fear faded from his mind. Kermit could only focus on her. His future floating toward him with flowers in her hair. She beamed at him with sparkling eyes and an electric smile. When Frank put her hand in his, the rest of the room disappeared.

*You are the sappiest man on the planet, Griffin.* he thought. Today, it seemed like an appropriate way to be. He kissed her hand and basked in the warmth of her smile.

Caine looked fondly at the couple preparing to begin their journey together. He had married others and had always taken great joy in the process. This was special because he would be marrying two people for whom he cared deeply. Two people who'd struggled and would continue to struggle. When they had settled there in front of the crowd, holding hands, he began the ceremony.

"Dear friends, today you embark on a joyous path. No longer two separate lives but one spirit. You will find that once insurmountable obstacles melt in the face of this union. Joys will be doubled in the sharing. Embrace one another in your pleasure and pain. From this, you will draw your strength. Strength that you may share with the new life you prepare to welcome.

"Trust in the truth of this love. Trust in the other's heart. That faith will sustain you through what ever trials are to come and fill you with happiness at every blessing granted your family." Caine took Savannah's hand. "Now, Savannah and Kermit wish to make their own vows to one another." Giving a slight bow, he stepped back to allow them to focus only on themselves.

"Kermit," she began, a happy blush flooding her cheeks, "I always knew that we would find each other. Even through all that river of trouble. Even after all the struggle. I knew that I would be here with you. If I'd never known you, I would have never known the power of this feeling. You give me joy that I can't begin to measure. This love I have for you is enough to clear away all the storm clouds in your heart." Lacing her finger tenderly with his, she continued, "There's no distance between us, now."

Kermit grinned and touched her stomach. Savannah laughed softly and looked down at his hand. "Well, maybe just a little." She placed her hand on his. "But, no matter what comes, you're safe here with me. And I vow to love and cherish you for all time. I can promise you that as long as we have each other, the worse will only be half as bad and the better...is going to be spectacular."

She took his wedding band from Mary Margaret and slipped it onto his finger.

Now, it was his turn. Taking a deep breath, he began to open his heart to her. In the presence of their friends. "From the first day I met you, Scarlett, you made me want things I didn't even know I needed. In the face of my ugly past and stupidity, you loved me anyway. You loved me IN SPITE of myself. Something that still mystifies me. And until the day I die, I'll thank God or fate or Mary Margaret for bringing you into my life. You found me at a time when love and mercy were lost to me. You brought Spring back into my life. Into my heart. You and this baby are the second chance that I never expected. A chance for light instead of darkness. And I swear that I will love you with all my strength until the day I die. And beyond."

Peter dropped the wedding band into Kermit's outstretched palm. As he slipped it onto her trembling hand and looked into her tear-filled green eyes, he vowed, "Neither one of us will ever be alone again."

They stood there, wrapped in the warmth of the moment. Holding hands and forging a bond that would hold through out a lifetime. Caine stepped forward, and quietly asked, "Kermit...Kermit. Would you like to kiss your bride?"

"Oh yeah." Kermit leaned down and softly kissed his bride....

*****

Paul could see the comfort his friend took from those memories. Made him feel closer to her, somehow. "Next time I want to hear about how your lovely bride nearly strangled you with your own tie! We'd better turn in and get a couple of hours sleep." He tossed a few bills onto the table and followed Kermit out into the cold night air.

Kermit stopped to look up into the stars. The same stars that were over her head out there in the night. *I love you,* he closed his eyes and "felt it" to her.

"We'll find them, Kermit. I know how determined my son is and any woman that would marry you must have more guts than a slaughterhouse. They're out there and we'll bring them home." Paul patted his back and left him alone in the dark with his thoughts.

The warmth flowed into his dreams. Peter could feel it coursing inside his chest out into his skin. Bitter cold retreated. For a moment, he was afraid that he was freezing to death, then he placed that familiar presence. *Father!?*

As he was beginning to reach out with his mind, a low groan pulled him back to consciousness. Peter had placed the baby in between his body and her mother's to keep her warm. Sometime during the night, he'd fallen asleep with his arm around both of them. Through his sleeve, he could feel the raw heat of fever.

Jerking himself awake, he turned his attention to Savannah. She was burning and nearly delirious. Eyes glassy and breathing in gasps. Gently, he moved away from the baby who was still resting in the breaking dawn. Taking his friend's face in his hands, he called, "Savannah! Honey....can you hear me?"

His hands felt cool on her face. Comforting. "W..what? Where?"

"Out in the great outdoors, that's where. Here, drink this." He held her head up for a drink. Coughing and sputtering, she lost what little liquid she drank in.

When she had voice again, she whispered, "Peter....you have to go...get her out...please...."

What she was asking was for him to take the only option left to them. He could no longer wait for a rescue team that could only find them accidentally. The situation screamed of limited options. Peter couldn't carry her. Moving her improperly might kill her. Unless he got her to help soon, she would die anyway. If he left, she'd be alone in the wilderness. Immobilized. Delirious. In the elements at the mercy of any animal that found her.

Then...there was Kat. Leaving her here with her mother was impossible. He'd have to take her with him. Crawling God knows how far through the woods with a baby. What he needed was another body. A body that belonged to a Shaolin priest. A priest who just happened to be a few too many states away to be of any help.

He didn't know what to do. Correction, he *knew* what he had to do but didn't know if he could. In the back of his mind, that feeling he experienced in his sleep returned. *You must get help. You are strong. Believe and do what you must.* That could be only one voice. A presence that could cut through any confusion and reach the heart of a problem. Solve it with slicing clarity. But this time...the solution sucked.

Peter tossed as many logs onto the fire as he could gather. The fire would help keep her warm and might warn off the source of the howling. In the remains of the wreck, he gathered a makeshift hiking supply kit. Slicing the seat belts to use for rope and grabbing the last canned drink to use for the baby. On his way back to camp, he kicked the truck's rearview mirror that had been ripped away during the wreck. He picked it up as an afterthought then returned to Savannah. He pulled her hand out from under the blanket and pressed his gun into her palm. Looping her finger around the trigger, he instructed, "Honey, hold onto my gun. If you hear anything that even remotely sounds like an animal come through the trees, fire. Understand?"

She wasn't responding. Being consumed by pain and fever. He took her face again to focus her.

"Savannah, hey, listen to me. Can you listen?"

She was trying to focus on his face. Pull herself together. "Yes...shoot if I hear anything."

"That's right." As he pulled the baby up and slipped her into his jacket, he said, "I'm going to have to get help. I'm taking Kat with me." She snuggled next to his chest as Peter pulled up the zipper to keep the child warm and secure.

"I...know. I'll be fine." As Peter crouched beside her, she reached up to stroke Kat through the fabric of his jacket. "Bye, angel girl...please....take care of...." She was too weak to finish.

"Don't worry. She's safe with me and I'll be back as soon as I can." He kissed her flaming cheek and set out into nowhere.

*****

The choppers were flying. The cars were rolling. Every law enforcement officer within a 300 mile radius was searching for one missing Ford Explorer, two adults and one baby. Kermit was standing outside the hotel room, grilling Captain James, the ranking patrol officer for the area.

"I want some RESULTS from you people. That's what I want, dammit!"

Captain James remained calm. He'd seen this bone-chilling fear in the eyes of other men. Other fathers and husbands who were searching. Waiting with the dread of finding dead bodies instead of loved ones. "Detective Griffin, we're doing our best. Using all our resources...."

"Well, evidently you people don't know WHAT THE HELL YOU'RE DOING! If they wrecked, where's the vehicle? If somebody snatched them, where's the vehicle AND the witnesses?" Kermit had wasted as much time as he planned on. He twisted and flopped all over that lumpy mattress. Tumbling over possibilities and scenarios in his mind. If this were vengeance, someone would be gloating. If there had been an accident, why hadn't someone seen them? All he had was that stretch of highway.

"Good morning, officer. Any news?" Paul Blaisdell could be cool-headed in a furnace. The quality that made him a leader of men. Melting down on the inside, but the picture of calm displayed on the exterior. Like now.

Relieved to have a rational individual to deal with, the man replied, "No. I'm afraid not, sir. The choppers just went up and all my men are out in the field looking for your family. Are you two going to wait here or do you want to come down to headquarters?"

"Hell, no, we aren't. Come on, Paul. Let's go." He was halfway to the car. Paul nodded his apologies and left to follow the ex-mercenary to the rental car.

*****

Peter had to move carefully. For one, his leg was throbbing and it took all his strength to push it forward. For another thing, his good arm had to be wrapped around the now-squirming child inside his coat. She was happy, but difficult to hold in one position. His injured arm was the only appendage remaining for balance. "Glad you're enjoying your adventure, Tadpole. Your Uncle Peter sure isn't."

He'd been walking for an hour and STILL hadn't found a way up to the road. Stopping for a moment to rest, his thoughts traveled back to the woman he'd left behind him. What if he'd made the wrong choice? Left her alone to die back there. *Pop could have pulled something from his bag, patched her together, and levitated up the side of this cliff,* thought Peter in his frustration. *One trick I've got to learn.*

"Okay, kid, if we're going to get to your daddy, we'd better get moving." He set out once again, only to have his leg fold beneath him. Twisting to keep from landing on top of his tiny passenger, Peter fell flat on his back onto the dirt. The terrified infant screamed into his face.

Too exhausted to rise, Peter comforted Kat. "I'm sorry, Tadpole. Shhh..." Slowly, he pulled himself upright and leaned back on a rock. Kat began to calm down and chew on the inside of his coat. His reserves had expired. He could barely breathe, much less continue a forced march through rough terrain. Kat didn't weigh much but controlling her in his condition made her seem like fifty pounds.

He had to find a way. *Think, Peter. There's an answer to this...all you have to do is find it inside yourself. There's too much at stake.* There must be a lesson...a long-ago lesson for him to find. His father had left so many guides inside his mind over the years. Landmarks left from his childhood to lead him through every maze presented in his lifetime. As he relaxed and searched, the lesson returned. As clearly as the day it had be learned....

*****

Peter and Dennis had followed Caine into the wilderness. The priest was in search of a rare plant found only the mountains near the temple. Grasping for an escape into the outside world, the two young boys tagged along behind Peter's father, pausing to punch each other and toss rocks down into the caverns that ran alongside the worn path.

Caine had thought he would have this time in meditation and quiet reflection. This was not to be. The two shadows following in his wake were not led in the same direction. The increased winds and dropping temperature served to excite them and make them more rowdy than usual. He thought of suggesting that the young men take this opportunity to feel the serenity of nature, but sighed at the pointlessness of the gesture. Better to let them play out their roughhousing before the return trip.

After collecting the delicate plants and storing them carefully in his bag, Caine directed the group to return. The weather had been in a state of flux for several days as the seasons struggled to change. Before they had progressed even one quarter of a mile along the five mile trek, they were trapped in a violent thunderstorm. The winds were whipping around their bodies with tremendous intensity. Flashes of lightning streaked to the ground. Striking and retreating all around them. Wrapped in the rumble of constant thunder. There was no escape from the raging elements. No shelter.

They pressed forward through the veil of storm. Making slow but steady progress. Without any warning, a bright flash of lightning split the air beside them. Sparks flew as the electricity split the trunk of a massive oak tree. Dennis, who had lagged behind, screamed as the full weight of the tree crashed down on top of him. Peter and Caine were immediately at the child's side. The tremendous tree trunk was crushing Dennis into the mud. Both father and son strained against the weight of the branches. Trying to free the unconscious student.

The gesture was futile. Not even their combined strength could budge the snarled wood as it threatened to choke the life from Peter's young friend. The volume of the howling wind and rolling thunder precluded conversation. Peter watched, stunned as his father seemed to step back - leaving Dennis at the mercy of the mud and crushing weight.

Caine dropped to his knees in the sheets of rain. Eyes clamped shut in concentration. Hands outstretched to the four winds. Before his eyes, Peter watched as his father readily drew in the power of the storm through his fingertips. Energy glowed and sparked around his body. Twisting into his being in a luminous stream. Caine's formidable body shuddered and appeared to rise briefly from the ground. Held aloft by the energy he was pulling from the elements.

When the transfer was complete, Peter stood shock still as his father lifted the fallen tree from his friend's broken body. Tossing it across the road like a stick of firewood. Motioning for his dumbfounded son to follow, Caine scooped up the injured child and returned to the temple.

Later, in the safety of the temple, Peter approached his father as he left Dennis's room. Miraculously, the child was only slightly injured and would only require bed rest for a few days. "Father...how did you DO that?"

Sliding his hands inside the sleeves of his robe, he answered, "What?"

Exasperated, Peter clarified, "You know what! Pick up that tree. No one man was strong enough to move that weight. Where did you pull that power from and how?"

"My son, all power...all energy is as a circle. The energy of your chi, of others, and of nature flows freely between us." Placing a hand on his son's shoulder to guide him toward his own bed, Caine continued, "It was necessary to access that flow of energy. To channel the power of the elements to achieve a goal."

"But...how? Teach me."

As they reached Peter's room, the priest ruffled his impatient son's hair. "My son, one day, you will complete your training. You will then be ready to learn to focus your talents to achieve such a task. Do not rush forward without the proper tools."

Peter dropped down onto his bed. Aggravated at what appeared to be another attempt by his father to NOT give him the answers he craved about one of his "tricks." Before he could press further, Caine countered, "I have full confidence in your abilities, Peter. As I have told you on many occasions, when the need arises for you to draw on these skills, they will come to the surface. You will learn and grow. Good night."

*****

Peter Caine closed his eyes and reached out into the elements. Energy began to circle around him. That glow from years ago, wrapped around his field of vision. Building and massing into waves of electricity. Opening his mind and body, Peter surrendered himself to accept the energy of nature. The power of the howling winds flooded into his fingertips with a rush. It thundered into his body with an intensity which threatened to burst his heart. *Control the energy, Peter. Do not be consumed,* called that distant voice from years ago. Summoning the discipline of his training, he grasped the power and focused it into his limbs. Into his lungs and empty stomach. Once he'd fortified himself, Peter relaxed from his trance and felt the power of nature fade back into the chilled air.

The screaming pain was temporarily eased. Fortified by the infusion of energy, he was strong enough to move. The urge to collapse was gone. For the moment. Now he could once again focus on the goal. Help for the broken body he'd left miles behind him.

Kat was completely silent. Staring up at him with bright green eyes twinkling. Awestruck by what her tiny body had just felt. Peter pulled her up so that her could kiss her curly head. "You felt it, too, didn't you, Tadpole? Maybe your daddy will let me teach you a few of my tricks one day." She giggled in reply and he smiled. This child had no idea the peril they were all trapped in.

Neither did Peter Caine...until he saw the wolf growling at them from fifteen feet away. The animal was a dirty gray with hackles spiking and mouth snarling. The slightest trail of foam dripped from his mouth as the animal bared it's fangs at his intended prey.

Peter rooted himself to the spot. No sudden movements. No sound. No way out. With Kat in his arms, battling the beast one-on-one wasn't an option. He had to come up a way to dig them out of this disaster. *If it's not one thing, it's another. Right, kid?*

Paul and Kermit were driving back up the same stretch of highway they'd driven the night before. In silence. Kermit's wheels were spinning on nothing but coffee and desperation. If someone had kidnapped them, this driving was useless. There had been no phone calls. Anyone from his past wouldn't skip the enjoyment of making him suffer by claiming credit. Peter's enemies, he wasn't so sure about.

Right now, this highway was the only focus. When he had talked to Savannah on the phone, he guessed that she and Peter had been about where he and Paul were now. What had happened after that?

He couldn't think about that now. If he thought about them hurt or dead, he'd lose control. What good would he be to them then? Using every bit of reason that remained, he pushed those vile mental pictures out of his mind. Think. Dammit. Pay attention. There must be something you missed on this highway last night.

Then he saw it. "Crystal Springs - 12 miles" the sign read. The advertisement below literally flashed out at him. "STOP!" he yelled. Paul skidded to a stop at the small gravel road.

"What is it? Did you see something?"

"That sign. Drive down this road and we'll check there," Kermit directed as his heart started pounding.

"Now, wait a minute. What makes you think they went there, Kermit?"

"You see that sign," he pointed to the ad for the antique store. For the first time since this ordeal began, he smiled. "That sign would be a Savannah-magnet. She's dragged me through every antique shop between here and Canada. They were going to stop and let the baby unwind for a while. I'd bet a million that this is the place."

"Peter was paranoid about being late. Do you think he'd go twelve miles out of the way just because Savannah wanted to shop?"

Kermit laughed out loud now. A lead. What he'd been waiting for hours to stumble across. "My wife could rule the world by batting her eyelashes. Peter Caine would be at her mercy."

That was enough for Paul. A shot in the dark was better than nothing at all. He turned onto the road and sped toward Crystal Springs.

When they reached the little town, they headed straight to the antique shop. The clerk hadn't seen them but she hadn't been there the previous day. She suggested they try the cafe down the street. Kermit walked in and sank down on a stool at the counter. Paul decided to check out some other shops on the street.

Chrissy walked over to wait on her new customer. Another stranger. This one looked like he'd been put through the ringer. He was a tall man, in his forties. Dark hair streaked with gray. His clothes looked like he'd slept in them and if he removed the sunglasses he was wearing, Chrissy was certain she'd see dark circles under his eyes. The weight of the world seemed to be on this man.

"What can I get for you, mister?"

Kermit looked up and pulled out the picture of Savannah and Kat. "Have you seen this woman? She and the baby would have been here yesterday. They would have been with a man with..."

"Sure. They were here. That baby is just precious! Oh, wait..." She dropped down behind the counter. When she came back up, she had Kat's toy in her hand. "The baby dropped this. I was hoping they would come back for it."

Kermit took the frog from her and pulled it to him. It smelled like her. That sweet, baby smell of powder and innocence. He closed his eyes and thought of her gnawing on Froggie. Those teeth were really giving her a hard time. She needed this right now.

"You're her father, aren't you?" Peter had told Chrissy that he was driving his friend's wife and daughter to some cabin somewhere. She had laughed at his monumental effort to let her know that he was absolutely single. "Has something happened to them?"

"They're missing," he said, still holding onto his little piece of Kat. "How long were they here? Anything you can tell me might be important."

"They were here at about this same time yesterday. Guess they stayed here about forty-five minutes or so then they left." The man had pulled off his glasses. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking. "They did have a little trouble while they were here."

Kermit sat up. "What kind of trouble?"

"Well, we have three resident drunks who come into town once a week and harass people. Even the nicest places have a few jerks, huh? This is such a little bump in the road, the only law we have is the county sheriff who's never around. Anyway, these guys tried to manhandle your wife and your friend kicked their butts all over the street," Chrissy laughed. "Most entertainment we've had here in months. Somebody needed to teach those guys a lesson."

The anger was warming him up in a hurry. Thinking that somebody tried to hurt her....He could rip somebody's fucking head off right now. Now his rage had a focus.

"Mister, if something happened to them after they left, I'd bet those guys had something to do with it. They can be real nasty."

"Who are they and where," he said, putting his glasses back in place.

"Deke's the big guy," she said, pointing out the window to three men leaning on a pickup truck across the street. "Joe and Raff are the two winners with him."

Before she finished, Kermit was already out the door and stalking across the street. Paul, who had already gotten the same story from a man in the hardware store, was trying to intercept him. He'd called the sheriff and he was on his way there. As wound up as Kermit was, he could do anything.

Before anyone had a chance to react, Kermit had Deke down on the hood of the truck, hands around his throat. "Heard you had a problem with my wife yesterday?"

Paul opened his jacket, revealing the gun tucked into his belt to warn off the other two men. Not willing to take a bullet for their partner in crime, the men backed off.

"I...don't know...what the hell you're talkin' about." Deke was turning red and tugging on Kermit's arm.

"Oh, now, don't lie. Your nose might grow and I'd have to cut it off," Kermit hissed into his face.

"Oh...that blonde? Yeah...yeah. We were just kidding around with her then we left," he lied, trying to get the enraged man off of him. Deke's mouth got the better of him and he added, "If you can't find your ole lady, maybe she's wrapped around that guy she was so friendly with." That remark earned him a mouth full of the ex-mercenary's fist.

This was getting out of control fast. Paul noticed one of the men actually biting his nails. He knew something. Kermit was squeezing the wrong guy. This guy was a loud-mouthed asshole. If he knew anything, he probably wasn't going to tell. They needed to focus on the other guy. Paul grabbed the back of Kermit's coat and tried to pull him off. "Kermit. Let him go."

Kermit kept his grip on the man's throat. This was his only link to Savannah and he wasn't letting it go. "You're not giving orders anymore, Paul. The mission's over and if this bastard doesn't tell me what I want to know, I'm tearing his sorry head off! Then I'm moving on to the other two," he yelled and gave Deke's head another slam onto the hood.

The sheriff's car pulled to a stop in front of the confrontation. When he got out, the guy who'd been chewing his nails, Joe, started running. Paul chased him, tackling him and pinning his arms behind his back. "Now, do you want to tell me your little secret, buddy?" Paul asked as he sat there, his knee in the man's back.

Joe had never been much on fortitude. What they'd done was way beyond whistling at women and breaking beer bottles on cars. There was a baby in that truck. He was a coward but he wasn't going to jail to protect those other two. "I tried to stop him. Honest," Joe gasped as he squirmed in the dirt.

"SHUT UP, JOE!" screamed Deke. Kermit flung him onto the ground and headed toward Paul. The sheriff collected Deke and his partner and put them in cuffs for safekeeping then stowed them in his car.

Paul had pulled the man to his feet when Kermit threw himself at him. Grabbing two fists full of Joe's shirt, he pasted him against the wall. "Tell me! What did you do?" the detective spat into his face.

The sheriff forced himself between Kermit and his rattled suspect. "Joe, you fess up or I'm gonna let this man loose on you."

"Okay! Okay!" he begged. "Get him off me."

Reluctantly, Kermit released the man. "Deke said we were just going to get even with the guy for the fight. We followed 'em when they drove out of town. We were just gonna stop the truck and kick the shit outta the guy. That's what Deke said." Joe was staring at his shoes. "But the guy wouldn't stop. We chased him down every back road in the county for fifteen minutes. Raff shot out one of his tires and he went off the road and wrecked."

Kermit's face turned ashen. He was clenching his fists. All he could envision was a fiery wreck. Kat and Savannah. His whole life going up in flames. Somebody was going to die for this.

The sheriff moved in on Joe. "Did you check to see if they were alive, you little shit?!"

Joe, still staring at the dirt on his boots, said, "No. It was on Boone Road, Sheriff. It's a hell of a drop."

"Get in the car," Paul said, shoving Joe toward his vehicle. "You're gonna take us there." Kermit, on the other hand, went straight to the patrol car, with the sheriff on his heels. He pulled Deke out through the window by his hair.

"You'd better pray these locals hide you, you son-of-a-bitch," Kermit growled into the man's face. "After I find them, I'm coming back for you and I'm gonna do things to you hell hasn't even thought of yet. If they're dead, you'll die. No matter how many I have to take out to get to you. Say your prayers...while you have the time."

*****

"Nice doggie," Peter whispered to the snarling, gray animal. Backing slowly away, he sized up his new obstacle. No weapon. No safe haven for the baby. No way to fight the enraged creature foaming to sink its teeth into a newfound enemy. Animal instinct soaked up the detective's fear and spurred the beast's fury.

Both hunter and prey circled one another. Searching and waiting for a weakness. Any object Peter selected to hurl at the wolf would only serve to aggravate the challenge. Running would be useless. Four legs could beat two any day of the week. Especially two banged-up legs carrying a baby.

Peter dug down into his soul. Trying to center himself. Trying to use the power of the spirit to find a solution. Perhaps he could focus his energy into the spirit of the anim....

Before his thought could complete itself, Kat began to whine and wiggle inside his jacket. The killer instinct of the stalking animal locked onto the target. Flying through the air with the grace of a fine-tuned killing machine, the wolf lunged toward them.

Reason faded. Reflex and training commanded Peter's limbs. Power resonated from his hands as he swooped them forward to force the energy of the wind and his life-force outward. Capturing the charging beast in mid-air. For one terrifying moment, the wolf paused in space. Suspended by the swirling forces of nature. Then, he crashed backwards into the ground. Yelping and limping, the beast retreated in search of less fortified prey.

Time to revel in success was nonexistent. His act of preservation cost Peter the reserves he had left. Will was all that remained. Every step had to be ordered. Body battling against the mind. One screaming for rest. One screaming for deliverance and forward motion.

The pain in his knee was throbbing with a jagged rhythm. Sweat had mingled with the blood on his forehead and had begun dripping into his eyes once again. They had reached the two hour mark. His little "energy boosting" trick had lost its effects. Kat was wet, hungry, and howling. *Go ahead and cry, Tadpole. Might do it myself,* he thought, patting her back through his jacket. Peter Caine had faced the fact hours ago that when help arrived for Savannah, it would probably be too late. A heartbreaking reality. But Katherine was alive and well. For now. If he had to crawl on hands and knees to get her home, he would. Peter was her only ticket back to her father.

Peter had his hands resting on the side of the cliff. This was the lowest point he'd found. He couldn't go on walking. This was the point where he would make his attempt to reach the road and freedom for both of them. "Hold on tight, kid."

Peter tightened the strings at the bottom of his jacket and zipped Kat more firmly into his chest. Wrapping the hand of his good arm around a root, he pulled himself up the steep grade. *There must be some Shaolin trick for one-handed climbing, huh, Pop?*

The pain in his body was screaming almost as loudly as the baby in his coat. As was his regret. The remaining fifteen feet might as well be fifty. He tried repeatedly and failed to make one inch of progress. *Dammit, this can't happen. What the hell am I going to do?* In the moment of his despair, he heard salvation. Coming down that unreachable gravel road.

His heart pounding, Peter knew he had to find a way to bring whoever was in that car, to him. At the bottom of a cliff. Unseen from the road. In a flash of inspiration, he remembered the mirror in his pocket. He backed away from the wall of the cliff and held the mirror directly above his head. A ray of sunlight connected with the glass and flashed a blinding light upward.

*****

The sheriff was flying down obscure gravel roads. Joe sat in the passenger seat, now resigned to whatever fate awaited him. On his own now. Deke and Raff were in the hands of a deputy. He understood that they were traveling down a road that would more than likely lead to three dead bodies. Past the point of caring about his fate, Joe spoke up, "It's about five miles down, Sheriff."

Kermit held onto the door handle. Grasping the metal to keep from smashing his fist into Joe's skull. If his family had died at the bottom of one of these cliffs...Joe would be the first of the three killers to meet his maker. The detective's stare bore an imaginary hole into the object of his hatred. Envisioning how he'd make him beg, and suffer, and die....

Paul was focused on Kermit. He knew what Kermit was feeling. The thought of finding his son broken and lifeless twisted in his mind also. Paul knew what Kermit would become at the sight of his dead family. What Paul was uncertain about was whether or not he would stop him from killing those men. At this moment, he couldn't be sure if he could or would stop him. Free agents like Kermit and himself had dispensed justice...their own brand of justice...around the world. In places where no law existed, except their own. Those instincts would take over. Their justice would be swift and bloody. Red hot revenge.

"WHAT THE HELL!!!!" The sheriff yelled as he slammed on the brakes. The patrol car did a 360 in the middle of the gravel, spraying dust and rock into a cloud.

Paul shook his head to get his bearings and shouted, "Dammit, what was that?"

The sheriff, white after his near trip off the side of the road, answered, "You saw it too? Damn near blinded me!"

"What? What did you see!?" Kermit was yelling and coming out of the side of the car. Paul was running over to the side of the cliff with Kermit on his heels. Peering over the side, Paul was greeted by the sight of his battered but grinning son - holding the rearview mirror of a car in his hand. A dark curly head was peeking up from his jacket.

"Hey, Dad...what took you so long?" Relaxing, he fell back against a boulder. Time for someone else to take over.

Kermit was all business. The sheriff had already slapped a rope into his hand after anchoring it to his patrol car. The rope burned into his palms as he descended. Ignoring his raw hands, Kermit slid down the side of the cliff to land beside the younger detective.

"Look who's here, Tadpole." Peter unzipped his jacket to free the hyper child to fall into her father's trembling hands.

"Da-da-da-da!" Kat squealed her delight at her father's touch.

Her dirty little face was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Kermit crushed her into his chest, choking back the tears of exhaustion and relief that threatened to streak down his face. Quickly, he examined the scrapes on her rosy cheeks and found them to be only superficial. "Oh, baby. Daddy's here," he cooed into her ear as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tattered chew toy she'd been deprived of. "Froggie missed you...almost as much as Daddy."

"Eeeeeeee!" She gasped with joy at her friend's return, immediately jamming a frog leg into her mouth.

Paul had joined them and wrapped his arms around his son. "You look like hell."

"You would, too, if some assholes drove you off a cliff and...."

"Where's Savannah?" Kermit pulled his attention away from his child and focused on his wife. She wasn't here. That meant one of two things....

"She's back there," he pointed in the direction of his two hour trek. "'Bout five miles. Hurt too badly to move." Urgency flooded out of his every pore. "Kermit, she was alive when I left her but you've got to get to her...quick."

The brief moment of peace he'd experienced faded back into dread. He and Paul put their energies into getting Peter and Kat back up to the car then raced the remaining miles to the wreck.

By the time they reached the sight of the accident, the two rescue units the sheriff had summoned had caught up to them. Kermit handed his daughter over to one of the volunteer fireman that manned the unit and went after his wife. This time, the repel was more difficult. He hit the ground beside the twisted wreck. That anyone had walked away from that mangled pile of sheet metal was beyond luck. Savannah's luck was ticking away. Before Paul or the rescue team could join him, he tore out through the trees to get to her.

*****

In the middle of her swirling delirium, Savannah Griffin was trying to hold on to any remaining shred of reality. Visions of her husband would appear and fade. Instant relief, then sorrow. The sounds of Kat crying begged her to rise and search. Then the cries would fade into howling wind, then the howling of animals. Twice, she raised the gun to fire into the terrifying sounds and failed.

The pain in her body had been replaced by a frightening numbness. All that remained was the raging heat. Comforting warmth lulling her into sleep. As her consciousness faded in and out, she prayed. Prayed for the strength to hold on. He would come. She knew he would come. She prayed that he wouldn't come down that hill to find her dead body. For his sake and hers.

What remained of her hearing locked onto a crashing sound approaching from her right. Branches snapping with the force of tremendous pressure. The howling was once again burning into her mind. *Shoot anything...* she thought. Peter's gun felt cool in her palm. Savannah could hear the rapid advance. Summoning her last reserves, she raised the weapon and fired in the direction of the attack.

*****

Kermit saw the hair before anything else. That golden hair sprawled out over the ground mixed with dirt and leaves. He was so absorbed in covering the ground between them that he didn't see the gun in her hand. Until it was too late.

The bullet ripped into his arm and dropped him to his knees. His stupidity flamed up through the wound. Peter had told him she was delirious. Warned him he'd left his Beretta with her. The way he'd come tearing through the brush toward her, she must have thought he was one of the animals Peter had ordered her to shoot.

"SCARLETT! It's me!" he yelled, trying to bring her back to reality. The bullet raged inside his flesh.

In response, she fired again, pinning him down behind a tree. There was no way to know how many shots remained in the clip. Maybe he could circle around the camp and come in behind her. As he turned to make his move, he caught sight of Paul through the trees. Paul had raised his weapon and aimed it in the direction of his prone wife. Kermit threw himself in Paul's direction in disbelief as he fired at Savannah.

Kermit Griffin's screams were drowned out by the retort of Paul's weapon. The projectile connected with the cold steel held in the woman's hand. Snapping it from Savannah's hand and flinging her arm across her body. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!!!" Kermit shouted, grabbing Paul by the collar and shoving him into a tree trunk.

Paul ignored his misunderstanding. Circling around behind Savannah would have only caused her to twist her body to fire in another direction. Possibly injuring herself further. She had to be disarmed quickly. Shooting the weapon from her hand held an economy of solutions to more than one problem.

There was no time to explain Paul's startling resolution to the tense situation. He grabbed the charging detective by the collar and flung him in the direction of his wife. Kermit staggered through the trees and fell beside the now disarmed woman. Grasping her fevered cheeks in his hand, he said gently, "Scarlett...I'm here. Just relax. Help is on the way." Turning his face upward, he shouted, "Where the hell are they?!! Get those damn paramedics down here!!!"

"Kermit..." came her almost inaudible whisper. "Where's Kat....Peter left...."

Leaning down closer to her bruised face, he comforted her. "We found them. Both going to be fine. Don't worry."

"I'm sorry....here..." She was trying to pull something from the pocket of her coat. Kermit reached in and pulled out the note he'd mailed to her days ago, wrapped around a package of gummi bears.

"Hell of a detour for some candy, Sweetcakes."

When she reached up to touch his arm, she felt the blood running out through the bullet hole in his leather coat. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Just scraped my arm on this little hike you arranged, Babe." He wouldn't dare tell her she'd shot him. She had to focus on herself now. Not worry about him. "Hey, if you want your surprise, you'd better pull yourself together."

"Teasin' a girl when she's down. Nice, Griffin," She smiled and tried to laugh, only to dissolve into a fit of coughing and gagging. When she could breathe again, Savannah feebly reached out to her husband. "Kermit...it hurts so much. Please help me."

"Just hold on a little longer, Babe. Help's on the way. Hold on to my hand." He laced his fingers with hers. That same gesture from long ago. Trying to flood her with his strength. By then, the paramedic had reached the victim. Pulling back the blanket, he exposed the gruesome compound fracture of her thigh. Kermit fought back a reaction. He didn't want to upset her further. The man had to move her injured limb to slide an emergency splint underneath. White hot agony forced a scream up through her throat and pushed her over into unconsciousness once again.

At the piercing sound of her scream, the detective grabbed a handful of the paramedic's hair and gave his head a sharp twist. "Watch it, you son-of-a-bitch!!" Snaking his other hand under her limp neck, he called out to her, "Scarlett...Savannah! Hold on!"

Suddenly, there was a firm hand on his shoulder. Peter Caine, who looked like he'd just gone ten rounds with Tyson, had somehow made his way down the cliff and to his friend's side. "Kermit, let me help her."

The paramedic spoke up. "Mister, *I'M* the one with the training here. This woman doesn't have a lot of time. We've got to get her...."

"SHUT UP!" Kermit screamed at the man, then turned his attention to Peter. He'd trusted this man with his life on more than one occasion. This time, Peter was asking him to trust him with more than his life. His heart. His wife. "Can you help her?"

"If I don't try, I don't think she'll be able to survive the trip up that cliff and down that gravel road." Peter was placing all his faith in his ability. Not only his ability to help heal Savannah's body, but in his ability to reach out to his father. In his condition, he needed Caine's backup. *The one time I actually ask for backup, huh, Pop.* Peter couldn't miss the humor in this fact. Now, he was begging for the very gift he'd slammed his father for giving days ago. Admitting that he wasn't strong enough. Not happy with that fact, but willing to acknowledge it to save this life fading away on the ground before him.

"Do it."

Peter limped over to the other side of Savannah's unconscious body. Gently, he rested one hand on her stomach and the other one on her burning forehead. "Kermit, she's got to have your help. She may try to fight me...you know how she is," Peter claimed, trying to convey his urgency. "She wouldn't let me try this before because she knew I was hurt."

Kermit understood. His wife could be as stubborn as a mule, to quote her own phrase. "If she fights you this time...I'll kick that beautiful behind of hers! Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Touch her and relax. Try to open your mind and I'll do the rest." Peter only had a few seconds to prepare his friend for the intimacy that was to come. "Kermit...you'll have to let go if you're going to help me to help her. You're a private person...forget that for now. This link is going to be, how shall I say it - up close and personal."

He understood and nodded his acceptance. Privacy could be damned.

"This is BULLSHIT! You people are going to let this woman die!" The paramedic was aghast at what he considered New Age Voodoo interfering with his job. "She's a Level One trauma who's been bleeding out in the cold all fucking night long!" He was reaching to pull Peter away from his patient when Paul stepped into action.

Paul Blaisdell had never seen Peter's Shaolin training displayed. Over the past few years, he'd accepted the mystic side of his foster son's life. Peter seemed to be able to balance the rational and spiritual aspects of his life with greater success as time had passed. Whether he believed in this was irrelevant. Paul believed in his son. In both of his sons. "Kid," he began as he placed a firm hand on the young rescuer, "this is NOT your call." The pressure on his shoulder and the bulge in the older man's coat, convinced the young paramedic to withdraw.

Peter Caine could feel Savannah's essence dissipating beneath his fingers. Before he could heal her body, the retreat into the afterlife must be halted.

*Kermit, focus on your love for her. Not the fear. Fear will push her away." Peter attempted to communicate the requirements for success to his friend. Even as the thought flowed from him, he could feel Kermit's resistance fade. He was willing to give all of himself. Every thought and ounce of energy to hold onto his wife.

Pulling Kermit's mind into the link, Peter focused their combined energy into Savannah's body. The fever and pain manifested itself into a substantial barrier. Pounding that wall like a battering ram, he fought through to find her consciousness. If he was to heal her body, her mind would be the gateway. A brilliant flash of light greeted them as they joined Savannah in the realm of the mind.

She sat on a patch of green grass beside a river bank. Staring out across the rolling water. Her face was free from the twisted expressions of pain that racked her physical body. She was peaceful.

Beside her sat a large ornate steamer trunk. Polished and decorative. Kermit's first instinct was to go toward her. This scene struck an all too familiar cord with him. Visions of a park in his mind. A place where peace and rest called him into the afterlife. Before he reached her, Peter grabbed his arm.

"Kermit," he began, reading his friend's memory, "you can't pull her out. She has to leave on her own." Then he added, "Trust me."

He did trust Peter. He had no choice.

Peter looked around and tried to adjust to this reality. "Where is this place? For Savannah, I mean."

Though he'd never been here, Kermit knew where they were from his wife's descriptions. This was her favorite spot in Memphis. A park that looked out over that muddy river she was so fond of. Beall Street was directly behind him. Savannah had been dying to bring him here since they met. "We'll stay in the Peabody, watch the duck parade, then we carouse down Beall Street until dawn. Boy, will you be relaxed," she'd teased on a day when he had been too stressed to breathe. Wanted to drag him to this dive called The Rendezvous. Her favorite barbeque place. Share all her haunts with him. This wasn't what she'd had in mind.

"She's home...in Memphis, Peter." Roots were foreign concepts to Kermit Griffin. That was...before her. Savannah clung to them. No matter where she went, *this* was who she was deep inside. Even as she enmeshed herself in the frantic pace of her husband's world, Savannah held firm to her true personality. This easy way of life she tried to hold onto in their home. Making him stop to sit with her to talk. About nothing, sometimes. Filling their home with cozy corners. Places that relaxed him in spite of himself.

Savannah shared *her* world with him. The comfort she generously rained on the ex-mercenary could fog the grit that stuck to him every day. *Funny,* he thought, *I was afraid of being a bad influence on her.* Hers was the stronger medicine. Letting her go was NOT an option.

Cautiously, Peter sat down beside her. This was uncharted territory for the newly-trained healer. Every move must be weighed. Every word chosen with care. Maintaining this link required tremendous will. Will enough to perform the task existed. Strength enough to succeed was in short supply. Peter wouldn't have much time. Casually, he sat down beside her as Kermit stood behind with his hands lightly resting on her slender shoulders.

"Hello there, dollface."

Smiling warmly, she greeted him. "Hi, yourself. Isn't this much better than camping?" Leaning her head playfully backward, she grinned at her husband. "I'm so glad you finally got to see 'my place,' Kermit. I was so tired. Now...I feel much better."

Fighting the urge to scream, Kermit remained calm. Following Peter's familiarity, he replied, "Not exactly the way we planned it, is it, Scarlett?"

The trunk beckoned for a comment. Time to reveal its purpose. "Savannah," Peter drew her attention back to the business at hand, "what's in the trunk?"

Sighing gently and patting the smooth surface lovingly, she replied, "Stuff. My stuff." Her eyes clouded with tears as she stared at the sum of her life held within the confines of that luggage.

"What kind of 'stuff', Sweetcakes?" Kermit knelt beside the trunk and took her hand.

"Good things...bad things...my life." It was an emphatic statement filled with a haunting finality. The contents of a life held within this woman's mind. By a thread.

Peter felt his strength waning. "Savannah, I can help you but you have to open up your life-force once again. Do that and we can all go home."

She began to shake her head as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I can't, Peter. It hurt so much. The pain is blinding. It's in there. When Kat was born, I thought that pain was unbearable." She turned a sad smile to her husband. "Remember, Kermit?"

"I remember," he answered, recalling the agony she'd endured and survived to gift him with a beautiful daughter. "You DID it. Came through like a trooper."

"But that pain had a purpose. This," she hung her head, "has no purpose. Now, it's gone. Away, now. I'm tired...just too tired." She grabbed his hand. A desperate gesture of longing or resignation. He couldn't decide which. "If I open the box, the pain will come back. I'm just not strong enough."

"LISTEN TO ME, dammit! You will not leave me. Do you hear me?!" Kermit stood in front of her. This time, daring to touch her with force. Those narrow shoulders held firmly in his hands, he pulled her up to stand before him. "I'll help you, but you can't leave me. Or Kat. I've BEEN HERE. While you were carrying Kat. I was shot and she came to me and wouldn't let me die. BE STRONG! I love you too much to let you go!"

Doubt raced across her face. Memories of trust given freely and received. But pain rested atop her life. Savannah didn't know if she could wade through it again. In that moment of indecision, she heard a new voice echo in her mind. The voice was energetic and filled with life. *Mama...be strong. Do your best. That's all you ask from me.*

There on the other side of the trunk was a young woman. Long dark hair and twinkling green eyes. Dimples that marked her as her mother's child. A Katherine from another time reached out to her. Flooding a lifetime of strength into her mother's heart. Repaying every ounce of love and guidance. Fulfilling her destiny.

Kat's image. Her essence, focused briefly onto her father. With a quick, affectionate wink, she showered her love onto this precious parent.

The will to live returned. Desire to reach through the years and be worthy of this child's trust overpowered Savannah's dread of the suffering choking out her life-force. Kermit could only stand in amazement as Kat's image grasped Savannah's hand and willingly shared the power of love and light. Together, they raised the lid and life resonated back into Savannah's body.

Cast out of the world of abstract feeling, Peter and Kermit were tossed back into consciousness. Kermit was able to remain upright but his guide connected with the earth beside his writhing patient. Savannah's pain returned full force. Choking out voice and sound. Pushing as she fought against the desire to retreat.

Paul pulled his foster son up from the dirt. "Peter! Talk to me!"

There was no energy left. No power to heal or connect once more to this fragile body before him. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he realized his failure. He'd pulled his friend back from the afterlife into a sea of pain from which he could offer no release. Dooming her to return to death.

Blinded by despair and failure, Peter begged for help. Reached feebly for the one source of power that had never failed to provide solace. Slowly, that familiar warmth crept into his tortured mind. Growing and spreading. Across miles and years. Through pain and regret and resistance. *I am with you, my son. Take my strength. Together, we will mend this broken body.* The voice was sure and strong. Without doubt or reservation.

The power of his father's chi began to thunder through Peter's being. In an instant, his hands returned to Savannah's convulsing body. Her will to resist had long since drained away. She lay her mind and spirit open to accept the healing force of the father and the son. Under the young man's touch, fever dissipated. Breathing eased. Bleeding and broken organs knitted and resumed pushing life through her body. The fractured leg could not be fused but Peter isolated the agonizing pain. Soothing her mind with the knowledge that the pain could be hidden until the facilities of a hospital were available.

Their minds and thoughts blended briefly in the power of the link. Peter was warmed by the volume of her love. Love for Kermit. Love for her friends. And the overwhelming intensity of this mother's love for her child. Peter had been the guide but Kat had been the one to drag her mother back from oblivion. The bond between parent and child knew no bounds. Space and time could not divide them. Savannah had held onto her life for Katherine. No pain or sacrifice would keep her from being there for this child. Or, this child from her mother. Just as no pain or distance or anger would keep HIS father from him.

Briefly, Peter marveled at the woman this tiny girl would become. Kermit's little girl. Tadpole. What left him confused was *how* she'd been able to pierce through time and dimension and get to her mother. She must have had help. Would have help. The same help Peter had called upon moments before. Father.

His insolence hadn't pushed his father away. In his hour of desperation, Caine had crossed the same void to reach him. To fortify and guide him. In the mind of his friend, Peter saw his father's love for him. Saw the reason his father would interfere with his life. Insinuate himself between Peter and danger, even against his wishes. It wasn't because he doubted his skill or disrespected his sovereignty. He was his parent. It was simply what a parent does. No way around that love. It was bigger than hurt feelings and childish resentment. Power beyond measure.

*Yes, my son. You understand correctly.* Caine's gentle voice spoke to Peter's exhausted mind. He could see his father. Slight smile on his lips. Head tilting ever so slightly to the side. *She can be released, now. I will be with you soon.* Breaking the link, Caine allowed Peter to pull back into himself.

Savannah was resting comfortably. Lulled into a sedated rest. Temporarily free from pain. Kermit gratefully rested his hand on her now cooling cheek. Still feeling her essence resonating through his mind. They had always had a connection but now, he'd actually *experienced* her love and thoughts. And Kat...now he would share his earlier rescue experience with Savannah. She'd understand. She had been there and dragged back by this child. And Peter Caine.

The young paramedic had been rendered frozen and silent from the mystic performance. Paul and the dumbfounded rescuer had been witness to something that, for all intents and purposes, could be termed a miracle. They had stared in amazement as energy, radiating a bright blue glow had engulfed the trio of healer, patient, and partner.

Paul shook himself and the mobilized young man into action. "I believe you have a patient to get up that hill, son."

Snapping into action, the paramedic began to evaluate then transport the young woman with the aid of a couple of fireman who'd just arrived. Under the threatening eye of the victim's husband, they slowly moved her through the trees then up to the roadside. Kermit, Peter, and Paul waited as Savannah's body, now at rest and quiet, was raised through the air. One inch at a time.

Peter dropped down onto the ground. Up until this point, Kermit had been oblivious to anyone other his wife. Finally, he took in the full impact of the younger detective's condition. Black and blue face. Gaping wound across his forehead. Peter had stopped pretending that he could walk on his own. "Kid," Kermit offered, "you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks." Peter let a smile creep across his grimy face. "Suppose that makes us twins."

Paul laughed out loud. For the first time in twenty-four hours. "Now that's a frightening thought. I couldn't never have dealt with the two of you at the same time. I'd be in the nut house!"

"There's still time," Kermit replied. Returning to the serious sentiments he felt he had to express, he reached out his hand to his friend. "Peter....I want to....what you did...."

Grasping the outstretched hand, Peter responded, "You're more than welcome. Sorry I didn't take good care of your ladies, Buddy."

Kermit cut off the needless apology. "I believe your ride's here." The firemen lowered the basket stretcher back down to collect their next patient. As the ex-mercenary helped load Peter onto the awaiting lift, he teased, "After all, now we have a brand new ER to break in."

"And with the best looking nurses in the state," tossed Paul, absently ruffling his foster son's hair. "Or so I've heard."

"Hey...might even stay there this time...." Peter's voice trailed behind him as he was raised up the side of the cliff.

Paul Blaisdell had literally ordered Kermit into the emergency room for treatment. His bullet had to be removed and the wound dressed. True to form, Griffin the Patient was less than cooperative. Flooding his typical disregard for medical authority over his anatomy through the hospital halls. After Peter had been examined, he'd followed his partner into the emergency room to be a buffer between Kermit's bad temper and the staff.

He'd agreed to the procedures as long as Paul would stay with Savannah, who was still in recovery. The orthopedic surgeon on staff had performed the surgery to realign her fracture. The leg was in danger. Lack of circulation and the severity of the break left her at risk of amputation. They would know in the next twenty-four hours. For now, the prognosis was good. She'd made it this far....

Kermit made his commander offer an oath that NO ONE would tell his wife that she shot her husband. "She has enough to worry about," Kermit explained.

Kelly, Annie, and Caroline had baby Katherine bathed, fed, and happy as a clam. For now, they would all stay at the cabin nearby. Trying to keep the family together. Peter had filled Paul in on a few things about Kermit's wife on the trip to the hospital. They had plenty of time. Savannah had been airlifted the forty-five miles to the medical center but Peter and Paul had ridden in the ambulance. His son related the incident a few months ago when the Hanoi Hilton and all its ghosts had risen from Kermit's past and threatened to claim him again. The woman had stood by his side and ridden out the waves of pain with him. Paul's doubts instantly faded. She was the right one for the job!

"Kermit...." Savannah tried to pull her head up from the pillow. And failed miserably. Groggy and disoriented, he tried to get her bearings. "What..."

"Hi there, beautiful. Don't believe we've met. I'm Paul Blaisdell." He picked up her hand, careful not to disturb her IV.

"Where's Kermit?" She cleared her throat and looked around for her bespeckled husband. "And who has Kat?" Paul brought a cup of water to her lips to ease the desert in Savannah's throat.

"That beautiful child of yours is with Annie and the girls and Kermit had to argue with the staff a bit." Flashing a sympathetic grin at her, he offered, "But you probably could have guessed that already."

Closing her eyes and chuckling, Savannah agreed, "Oh yeah...you must have experience in the 'Griffin School of Congeniality.'"

"Ph.D., my dear." Reaching up to stroke her hair back from her face, he asked, "How do you feel?"

"Like I was pushed off a cliff....What about those men, they..."

"Locked up. The local sheriff has them under control. We'll deal with that later." Paul was grateful that Kermit was too involved with Savannah's injuries and his own to plan a trip to the local jail just yet.

"Sorry to meet like this, Paul. I had a...a...speech all worked out." She was starting to doze again. "I want you to know...I'm trying to make a safe place for him.....love him very much....I won't leave..." She dropped back into sleep.

Paul Blaisdell smiled and pulled the cover closer around her shoulders. "I know, Savannah. And it's a job I highly recommend."

*****

Peter slipped quietly into Savannah's hospital room. She was sleeping peacefully. The apparatus used to immobilize her leg looked uncomfortable at best. Beside her was what appeared to be some sort of pump connected to her IV tube. He'd promised Kermit that he'd wait here until he returned. The way he'd screwed up his last "assignment" he was glad to do anything to help.

Slowly, Savannah began to come out of her drug-induced sleep. Lifting heavy eyelids, she greeted her guest. "So, Kermit left you to baby-sit?"

"Oh, yeah," he answered, leaning over to take her hand. "Giving me a chance to redeem myself. How are you feeling?"

Eyes half open, she laughed, "Stoned. Me and Mr. Morphine pump are having a great time. They say I'll have to give it up in a few days. Jerks."

She was glad that Kermit had gone to be with Kat for a while. She was only a baby and must be confused at having her routine interrupted. *Her mama certainly is,* thought Savannah.

"Mary Margaret was here. She left you this Grisham novel."

Sleepily, she laughed, "One of my people. Yea!"

Finally able to focus, she took in the full view of an enormous bouquet of flowers. It rivaled a funeral spray. "Who in the world sent those!?"

"Wolf Gannett." Getting up to retrieve the card for her, he explained, "We made the news, Lady. Movie of the week material. Guess Wolf is keeping up on current events lately."

Rolling her eyes and giving a phony disgusted look at the card, she read, "Dollface, thought you'd understand that camping wasn't for guys like you and me. Feel better soon. P.S. I get to play P.C. in the movie."

"No way!" shouted Peter, only slightly amused at the prospect of combining his life, Wolf, and another movie.

Dropping the card into a drawer so that Kermit wouldn't see the "dollface" remark, she turned her attention to Peter. "How are you, partner?" From the sight of his crutch and his black and blue face, he'd had a rough time of it. Thinking about everything he'd endured to save her and her baby filled her heart. He just nodded and sat there. Still and quiet.

"Peter, I've got something to ask you. When you told me those things about your mother...you were lying, weren't you?"

Shocked, he replied, "Why would you say that?"

Gently, Savannah answered, "Because that link between us ran both ways. You lied. You really don't remember her, do you?"

Shaking his head, he confessed, "No, I don't. The one memory I have of her is her perfume. My father made it for her from jasmine flowers. I have a photograph but that's all. It's the only piece of her I have."

Savannah felt his heartbreak. "You told me those things so that if I didn't make it, I could die in peace."

"Would it have worked?"

"Yes. And I'm grateful. It was an incredibly kind thing to do." Pausing briefly, she considered her next words. Mothering was hard to resist. Even when the person she wanted to mother was older. "Your mother is proud of you. The man you've turned out to be. Even when you screw up and lose your temper with your father. I know she's up there watching over you."

He looked into her eyes for reassurance. "How do you know?"

"Because it's what I would have done for Kat. I would have gone home to Heaven and spent my days buzzing around that little girl, watchin' her every move."

"Hey, I'm the one who's supposed be making you feel better."

Out of the blue, she asked, "Talked to your father yet?"

*Next time, hopefully I won't spill my guts inside someone else's head,* he thought. Out loud, he answered, "Not yet...but I know what I'm going to say."

"Maybe something like, 'I'm sorry and I'm not ashamed to need you every now and then. I understand that parents need their children and vice versa.'?" She been fighting a yawn as long as possible until she'd finished her idea but now, she gave in.

"Something like that. Now go back to sleep." Savannah was already out, leaving Peter to contemplate his next homecoming.