I sat under the rocks for over two hours, shaking with cold, trying to keep myself calm. The light had grown much dimmer, and I was afraid I was going to be stranded up here in the dark. Even when the rain stopped, I knew I would not get very far hopping or limping my way back to the house.

Growing more stiff and cramped and numb, I twisted my body, stretched out my legs, and lay lengthwise. This was a bit more comfortable, but not much.

From time to time the rumbling clouds parted and I saw a sliver of gray sky. Then it changed unexpectedly, and a peculiar white light began to shimmer on the edge of the horizon, suffusing the dark clouds with an aureole of radiance.

The sky was looking strange, almost eerie, but it was nevertheless quite beautiful. The light grew brighter, sharper, and I held my breath. Eerie or not, it was magnificent.

As I lay staring at that brilliant sky, trying to still my worry, I heard his voice. Andrew's voice. Mal.

It was clear, very close, so close I pushed myself up swiftly and changed my position under the rocks. Again I heard my name.

Mal.

"I'm here," I answered, almost to myself.

Don't be afraid. You'll be all right. Listen to me now. You must be strong and brave. As long as you are alive you will carry the memory of me in your heart. I will live on in you. As Jamie and Lissa will live on in you. We are watching over you, Mal. But it's time for you to move on. Gather your strength. You must go on with your life. Go forward into the future.

"Andrew," I said, looking about me anxiously. "Are you there? Don't leave me, don't go away."

I am always with you, darling. Always. Remember that.

The thunder and lightning stopped.

I peered around again.

I was alone.

The rain ceased abruptly, without any warning. The bright light streaming out from behind the clouds was beginning to diminish and fade, and the stormy clouds were speeding away across the heavens. A fragment of blue appeared above me.

I closed my eyes, thinking.

Had Andrew spoken to me? Or was it all in my own head?

Was my imagination playing tricks again?

"She never paid me any mind, Mrs. Andrew didn't," Wilf grumbled. "I allus told her not to come up on these 'ere moors, Joe. I did that. Dangerous they are."

"Let's just try and find her," Joe said. "Stop yakking."

When I heard their voices nearby, I managed to push myself to my knees. "Help!" I shouted weakly. "Help! I'm down here! Joe! Wilf! Down in the hollow!"

"That's Mrs. Andrew calling us, Joe," Wilf cried excitedly. "She's tummeled in yon gully, I bet she has. Come on, Joe."

A fraction of a second later Wilf and Joe were peering down at me, relief spreading across their weather-beaten faces.

"Whatever's happened to you, Mrs. Andrew?" Joe cried, clambering down into the hollow.

"I fell, rolled down the moor, and ended up in here. I hurt my ankle," I explained, "I'm not sure how well I can walk, Joe. I think I can only hop or limp."

"Don't you worry, we'll have you back home in two shakes of a lamb's tail," Joe said. "Now, come along. Put this barbour on, it'll keep you warm. By gum, you're as white as a sheet, and you must be frozen. You're shaking like a leaf."

"I be warning you afore, Mrs. Andrew," Wilf said. "But you never paid me no mind."

"I'm sorry, Wilf, I should have listened. And you're right, the weather is unpredictable up here."

"It is, by gum. Many a poor soul's been lost on these moors, not found till it was too late. Dead as a doornail, they was," Wilf intoned in a dolorous voice.

"That's enough, Wilf," Joe said. "Now, Mrs. Andrew, just put one arm around my neck, and let's see if I can help you up out of this gully."

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Joe and Wilf half walked me, half carried me back to the house. We made slow progress because of my ankle; I felt ill, frozen through to my bones, and I had a raging headache. But at least it was no longer raining, and the wind had dropped considerably.

When we finally arrived at Kilgram Chase, Parky, Hilary, and her husband Ben were all waiting for us in the kitchen, their faces anxious.

"Oh, dear, Mrs. Andrew, what happened to you?" Parky cried. "Have you hurt yourself, then?"

"Sprained her ankle, she has," Joe answered.

"I'm all right, Parky," I reassured her, although I didn't feel it at this moment.

"Found her up near yon ghyll, we did, she'd tummeled in a gully," Wilf said. "And I-"

"It could have been worse," Hilary exclaimed, cutting him off sharply. Taking charge with sudden briskness, she went on, "There's no point standing around here nattering. Now, Mrs. Andrew, let's get you upstairs, get those wet clothes off you. A hot bath is what you need, and something hot inside you."

Hilary came to me, put her arm around my waist, and helped me across the kitchen.

"I'll ring up Dr. Gordon, ask him to come, shall I?" Ben said, looking at Hilary.

"Yes, you'd better," she replied.

"I'm okay, honestly I am," I interjected. "I'm just cold. Very cold. A bath will do the trick."

"I think the doctor had better look at your ankle. Best to be on the safe side," Joe said as we went out into the corridor.

I heard Parky say, "I'll put the kettle on."

And then Joe replying, "Nay, Mother, what yon lass needs is a shot of good scotch whiskey, not tea."

Hilary tightened her grip on me as we started up the stairs. "Can you make it all right?" she asked worriedly.

I nodded.

Once we were in my bedroom, she went to run me a bath.

I stripped off my muddy clothes, threw them on the floor, and put on a dressing gown. I limped into the bathroom.

Hilary looked around as I came in and said, "Shall I put some of these Epsom salts in the bath? They're good for aches and pains."

"Yes, that's a good idea," I answered, sitting down on the bathroom stool.

"I'll be back in a few minutes with the tea and the whiskey," Hilary said, walking over to the door. "I'll leave it in the bedroom for you. Oh, and I'll put a bottle of aspirin on the tray."

"Thanks, Hilary. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome," she murmured and closed the door behind her.

I sat soaking in the hot tub for a long time, enjoying the heat of the water, feeling myself thawing out. The Epsom salts did help my bruised body and my ankle; and even though this was badly sprained, I was now certain it was not broken.

But it was quite obvious that I had had a lucky escape.

When I had gone for a walk earlier this afternoon, I hadn't told anyone where I was going, and it was only by chance that I had seen Wilf in the orchard as I had walked past. He had waved. I had waved back, and then I had gone on down the path into the woods. When the storm had started and I had not returned, he must have been the one to sound the alarm. I experienced a stab of guilt as I thought of the way Andrew and I had always characterized him as stupid-gormless, as Andrew said.

Andrew.

I closed my eyes, concentrating, picturing my husband in my mind's eye.

Had he really spoken to me this afternoon? Freezing cold, in pain from my ankle, frightened that I might not be found before nightfall, that I might easily be lost on the moors, might I not have simply imagined it? Might I not have conjured him up for comfort?

I did not know. Just as I did not know whether I had dreamed that Lissa had slept in my arms all those months ago at Indian Meadows.

Was there such a thing as an afterlife? Certainly religions have preached for thousands of years that there is. And if there is an afterlife, then there must be ghosts, spirits of the dead who come back to this physical plane for a reason. To comfort and calm those loved ones left behind grieving? To show themselves as guardian angels?