Saria flung herself into Pauline’s arms and to her horror, began to weep almost hysterically. The relief at seeing her alive was so overwhelming after such fear of what she might find, that she couldn’t stop herself, not even knowing she was making a complete fool of herself in front of Drake’s men.

She nearly bowled Pauline over, but the woman closed her arms around her firmly and held her close, murmuring soothingly as she looked over Saria’s shoulder to Drake for an explanation.

Jerico and Joshua immediately left, giving Saria some privacy. She noticed, but was too distraught to acknowledge their gentlemanly behavior.

“Saria, honey, tell me what’s wrong,” Pauline coaxed.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop,” Saria admitted. “Hit me or something.”

“What did you do?” Amos demanded, glaring at Drake.

“Not him,” Saria hastened to explain, hiccupping. “The killer.”

“Killer?” Pauline echoed and glanced at Amos, mystified. “Saria, you aren’t makin’ sense. Come into the parlor.” She stepped back to allow them into her private wing of the house. The room they entered was a small sitting room. “Drake, pour a small glass of brandy.”

“I hate brandy,” Saria sniffed.

“Yes, I know,” Pauline soothed, “but it will help. Amos, stop glarin’ at the boy and bring that comforter. I think Saria’s in shock.”

Saria clung to Pauline. “You know I only went to school because you wanted me to. You know that don’ you? I did everythin’ you asked me to do. I didn’ listen to mon pere, to the church ladies or my brothers, only you. You know that, don’ you?”

“Of course I know that.”

“You’re ma mere, you always have been.” Saria tightened her arms around Pauline’s neck, burying her face on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Of course I am,” Pauline assured her. “You’re my girl. My child.”

“I thought I’d lost you. I can’t, Miss Pauline. I need you.”

“You won’t lose me. Amos and I have always loved each other, Saria, but you’re my daughter. No matter . . .”

Saria shook her head, knowing Pauline didn’t understand her, didn’t know how close to death she actually had been. Pauline peeled Saria’s arms from her neck and led her to a small, ornate sofa. She sank down, drawing Saria with her.

“You don’ understand,” Saria tried to explain. “He was here, in the house. I thought he might have killed you and Amos. No one heard him. He slides in and out of places and there’s nothing of him left behind. No trace.”

Pauline frowned as Drake held out the small glass of brandy. Saria didn’t take it, so Pauline did, holding it up to Saria’s mouth. Saria gulped the fiery liquid. It burned all the way down. She coughed and blinked back tears.

“Feeling better?” Pauline asked gently.