the meadow, Mary Ann excused herself.
Sam accompanied her back to their bedchamber.
“I love you, Samuel.”
“I love you too, Mary.” He kissed her soundly and curled up around her to sleep.
The sky was black and lifeless. Petrified trees of white bark and bare limbs circled the field. Patches of dead grass and shriveled flowers cluttered the ground. Mary Ann walked on bare feet towards the center of the field. Before her stood the Wendigo Spirit and the Skadegamutc. Their mouths opened, and black blood spilled from their lips. A man stepped out of the pool of darkness. Sam. Like them, he had taken the form of a beast, half-wolf and half-man with sightless eyes. Mary Ann reached for him, trying to call out to her beloved, but something held her back...
She looked down and saw pale fingers encircling her wrist.
Ruby eyes blinked up at her. “Mother!”
Mary Ann lifted her daughter into her arms as a swarm of wendigo surrounded them. She clutched her child to her chest and held her hand out in front of her as if she could ward them off with sheer determination. When there was a break in the swarm, Mary Ann ran as quickly as she could. A voice whispered into her mind… “He is the defiler. He is the father. He is destruction.”
~*~
Sam awakened to the sound of Mary Ann screaming. He grabbed her shoulders and forced them to the bed, holding her down so she didn’t hurt herself or the baby. His hold was gentle but firm enough to keep her still. Her eyes were open and her lips parted to release another scream, only no sound came. Sam cradled her in his arms and whispered in her ear until she stopped trembling. “Wake up, my love. I need you. Come on, Mary. Come back, sweetheart.”
The door to the bedchamber opened.
Boone stood shirtless in the doorway with Abigail a few feet away, a crying baby in her arms. They took one look at the bed and closed the door once again. Sam was grateful for the privacy as he held Mary Ann through her nightmare. When her eyes closed, he breathed a sigh of relief. Mary Ann went limp in his arms, and her breathing returned to normal. Sam didn’t know how long she had slept before the light of dawn crept in through the windows.
She awakened with a gasp, clinging to his arms as if she would die if he let her go.
“Sam...Sam. Sam. Sam…”
“I got you, Mary,” he whispered. “Nothin’ can hurt you now.”
She relaxed in his arms. “It was terrible, Sam. Our daughter was in danger. The evil spirits were there, and they called you the Defiler. They said you would destroy everythin’...I don’t believe it. Not my Sam. You would never.”
Sam tilted her head back and kissed her once more. “Go back to bed, love.”
“I..I can’t. Our baby is in danger. We need to protect her.” Mary Ann pressed his hand to her belly, and he felt a restless kick against his hand. “She knows somethin’ is wrong. We can feel it. Somethin’ wants to take you away from us.”
“Listen to me,” Sam whispered. He gripped her face and kissed her slowly, but only for a quick second. “You have no idea how important all of this is to me, Mary. I love you so much, and so long as we remember that...we can get through anythin’. With you by my side, I can overcome any darkness. Our baby ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“The dark spirits want her. And they want you, too.”
“I don’t give a damn what they want,” he snorted. “They ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my family. It’s us, darlin’. The three of us will face off with a world of dark spirits if it means we can be together in the end.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Silver Fox Ranch
Tables were set in the barn with neatly tucked-in chairs. Beautiful lanterns had been strung up to provide light in the small structure. A long carpet had been rolled out to make an aisle, and wildflowers covered every surface. Mary Ann looked around at what had been done in celebration of her love for Sam. She placed a hand on her round belly and moved to sit beside Itsá. He reached over and grasped her hand. “You seem happy,” he observed.
“I am...and in many ways, I’m not.”
“What worries you?”
She looked him in the eyes and asked, “Do the spirits want my baby? I mean it, Itsá. I don’t want any cryptic verses from your ancestors