He hadn't had time to plan out what to say ... what order to say it in. Both adults looked at him curiously. That he was worried was obvious to both of them.

"There's a problem," said Bob, tentatively.

"She can't stay?" asked Linda anxiously. "But she's been looking forward to this."

"No," said Bob hastily. "It's not that. I don't know where to start."

He thought frantically.

"There's this Indian ... one of the ranch hands ... his name is Greasy Face." Bob paused. "He can see things." That much said, Bob floundered.

"See things?" asked Linda. "See what? Did he see something about Brenda?"

"Yes," said Bob automatically. "He was a Medicine Man. I know this sounds crazy, but ..."

"What was it he saw?" asked Dave, leaning forward.

"I ... let's wait a minute for that," said Bob, feeling the panic rising.

"Mr. Nivens, would you please tell me what you're here for?" asked Linda. If something is wrong, we need to know. The doctors all say she's in remission, but Lord knows they've been wrong about things before. I don't know anything about Medicine Men, but we've been looking into alternative treatments for Brenda, so we're open to just about anything."

Bob took a breath. This wasn't going well at all. "On our last ride," he started again. "she had another wish. I mean she added to her wish. She wanted ..." He couldn't say it.

"Did this Medicine Man do something to her?" asked Linda leaning forward. "Is THAT why she went into remission?"

"No!" said Bob hastily. "He didn't do anything to her." He took a breath and closed his eyes. "I did."

"You?" Linda looked confused. "What in the world could YOU have done?"

Bob opened his eyes. "I'm in love with your daughter," he said faintly.

"You're WHAT?!" squeaked Linda.

"I fell in love with your daughter on that trail ride," said Bob weakly. He went on, just to get it over with. "And she asked me to ... she wanted me to ..." He gulped. "She said she didn't want to die a virgin." he finished.

There was stunned silence for ten seconds. Bob closed his eyes again.

"You had sex with our daughter?" Dave's voice was heavy ... tight with anger.

"Yes," said Bob.

Linda sat back in her chair so hard the front feet left the floor an inch, before dropping back down with a thump on the floor.

"You son of a BITCH!" Dave ended up yelling, as he stood, his fists balled.

Bob kept his hands at his sides.

"You have every right to be angry," said Bob. "I know what I did was wrong. If it's any comfort, I didn't intend for it to happen, but if you slug me, I'll understand."

"You're damn RIGHT I'll slug you, you BASTARD!" Dave yelled. His right fist lashed out and connected solidly on Bob's undefended jaw. Bob turned his head instinctively, to take the blow, and fell to the floor. He didn't get up. "That's not ALL I'll do to you, you son of a bitch," growled Dave.

"Dave!" Linda's voice came sharply. "Stop!"

"I'll stop when this man is dead," snarled Dave. He stepped toward Bob.

Linda stood up and grabbed her husband's arm. "STOP!" she yelled.

She turned to Bob. "This explains a lot that I didn't understand," she said slowly. She looked down at him. "But what does this have to do with the Indian?"

Bob stayed on the floor. He tried to get ready for the beating that would follow. He was determined not to defend himself.

"Greasy Face saw her when she came back, this morning. He says much healthier than she was when she was here last ... and that she's pregnant."

He expected Dave to charge, but the man's mouth dropped open. He wavered on knees that didn't seem to want to hold him up any more. He'd left the chair behind, when he came for Bob, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, which was closer.

"Pregnant?" Linda's voice sounded surreal in Bob's ears, like it was floating in the wind. "Brenda's pregnant?" She sat back down, slowly. "You made Brenda pregnant?"

"I believe I did," admitted Bob.

"But ... but ..." Dave's mouth worked. "She's just a baby!" His voice firmed. "There's no way. She didn't say anything. She'd have said something. We'd know! I'm not taking the word of some voodoo witch doctor that my baby is pregnant!"

"I'm sorry," said Bob. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I should have seen it," said Linda softly. "I thought it was just a crush, but I should have recognized the signs. She's in love with you."

"I didn't mean for that to happen either," said Bob.

"I'll SUE!" yelled Dave, standing up again. He took another step towards Bob.

"Shut up, David," said Linda, also standing. "Sit back down!"

"But..."

"Sit down!" She ignored him and began pacing the room.

"We'll have to have her examined of course," she said to the room at large. She spun to look at Bob. "Can I talk to him?"

"Who?" asked Bob, confused.

"This greasy person ... I want to talk to him."

"Of course you can talk to him," said Bob. "But ..."

"You believe him ... don't you?" asked the woman.

Bob looked at her. "Yes. I do."

"And you really ... I mean is it really possible? That she could be pregnant, I mean?"

Bob felt the flush grow on his cheeks.

"Yes, it's very possible."

Dave tensed, on the bed and Bob tried to make it sound a little less negative.

"What I mean is that, when I told her it was a bad idea ... that she might GET pregnant ... she said she hadn't been having periods because of the treatment. She felt like it was ... safe."

Linda looked astonished. "You actually TALKED to her before ... before you ..."

"Ma'am, I tried everything I could do to talk her out of it. I promise you that. But she ... I can't explain it ... she got to me somehow, I guess."

"Don't you go trying to blame this on my baby girl!" snarled Dave.

"Oh shut up!" barked his wife. "You know very well that Brenda won't take 'No' for an answer. When her mind is made up she does what she wants. And if she wanted ..." She stopped, and looked at Bob. "I knew something happened on that ride," she said. "I could see it, but I didn't know what it meant. I thought it was that glow they say some patients get just before they go downhill. I hadn't seen her that happy for years! NOW I understand."

She paced again, and then whirled to face Bob once more. "Not that that means I approve of what happened!"

"No Ma'am," said Bob.

Dave looked like he was trying to think of what to do. It was obvious he wanted to DO something. Men are like that, when faced with a problem.

Linda had stopped, her head cocked, looking at Bob. "You said you loved her."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said.

"How do you feel ... if she really is pregnant, I mean?"

Bob opened his mouth. How could he possibly explain how he felt? If he had hours, maybe. But he didn't have hours. He knew that.

"Nine months ago, I lost my wife and five year old son in an avalanche," he said. He saw something in Linda's face. It wasn't pity, or horror. It was more like ... interest. He didn't understand that look, but went on. "I didn't think anything like this would happen. I didn't expect to fall in love ever again. I'm not trying to make excuses, but I've been in so much pain ... that may have had something to do with what happened."

"Brenda told us about your wife." said Linda. "I'm sorry."

She sounded genuinely sorry.

"I think that's one of the reasons I let her come here in the first place. I knew something of what you two must have been feeling. I was having real trouble getting past my own pain. I felt like I should be able to get past it," he said. "But ... I couldn't. I thought I could at least do something to make her last days better ... to help you two, maybe. But then, on the ride ... that's what I went to see Greasy Face about ... when you got here. I didn't know how to feel, or what to do when she didn't die. I felt like I had betrayed my wife."

"What did he say?" asked the woman curiously.

Bob took a deep breath. "He said Dannie would want me to be happy."

"And what would make you happy?"

"To have another chance at love?" he said softly. "And when he said she was carrying a baby ... it was like a second chance at life ... not to replace Kyle ... but ... I can't explain it."

Linda stepped closer to him. "I think I know how you feel," she said. "Somehow, they gave us our daughter back."

"I know she's too young to get married," said Bob. "But, if things keep up the way they are now, in a couple of years ...?"

"You'd marry her?" asked Linda, her voice low, and full of emotion.

"Yes," he said immediately. "With your permission, and if she'll have me."

"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about her having you," sighed Linda. "Though I'll have to think a while on ... our permission." She shook her head. "I don't see how I could have been so blind. She's head-over-heels for you, young man." She looked startled. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm twenty six," he said.

"This is ridiculous!" said Dave. "I wouldn't let her marry him if he was the last man on earth!"

Linda ignored him, and tilted her head at Bob again, examining him.

"I'm going to be a grandmother," she said. "It's going to take me a little while to get used to that idea."

"Greasy Face could be wrong," said Bob. "But I was afraid that if they continue treatment, it could hurt the baby. I had to tell you."

Linda's eyes narrowed again as she realized he could have just kept silent, but chose not to intentionally. For the first time since he had turned over the apple cart, she felt ... better ... somehow.

"Her treatment is finished," said Linda. "They've already done everything modern medicine knows how to do. None of that worked. Nothing worked ... until we brought her here. Of course, you can be quite sure we'll have her examined when we get her back home. Now. About this Greasy Face."

Bob couldn't believe he was walking along beside the parents of the girl he had knocked up. They were walking normally, though there was no talk. Greasy Face was still sitting on the porch of the bunk house, still braiding rope. He looked up, his eyes dark under his hat.

"Hello," he said. "It is a good day." He looked at Bob, who looked drawn and limp. "You have come to ask me about your daughter."

Dave snorted. Linda nodded. "Yes," she said simply.

"I would have to see her again," said the old man, not getting up. "Perhaps lay my hands on her, but I have been thinking on what I saw, since I talked to Bob."

Bob jumped. He had never heard the man say his name. When he was little, Greasy Face had called him bééte'ín- vai, which meant "curious". One day it had changed to the name for Boss in his language. He had never called Bob by his white name.

The old man went on.

"When I first saw her, I knew she was sick - very sick. The Angels were swooping low over her. They looked happy. They always look happy when they are waiting for one who is worthy."

"Angels?" Linda sounded weak.

"Your word for the spirits of those gone on," said Greasy Face, pulling at the rope. "When I saw her today, there were no spirits. It was a puzzling thing. But, I have never seen one with the wasting disease who was also with child, so I thought maybe what I was seeing around her was from the life in her womb. But, if she were still sick, would not the spirits wait for her anyway? I think she is not sick any more."

Dave was finally looking less belligerent, and more interested.

"She still has a tumor in her head," he said.

"There are many things inside our bodies that should not be there," said Greasy Face. "Some are bad, and some are not. I see what I see. That is all I can say."

"Will you examine her?" asked Linda, real hope in her voice.

"Linda ..." Dave said, warning in his voice.

She turned to him. "She's in remission, Dave. How could he know that?"

"This man," said Dave, taslking about Bob, but not looking at him, "could have told him that. This could all be smoke and mirrors ... him trying to get off the hook for what he did to Brenda."

"Why would he say she was pregnant?" asked Linda. "Why would Bob even TELL us that? He had nothing to gain, and everything to lose!"

"We're taking her home!" insisted Dave.

"Not until we're done here," said Linda forcefully. She turned back to Greasy Face. "Will you look at her?"

"If you wish me to, I will," said the old man.

Crystal and Brenda were standing on the veranda, as the group of four people came towards the house.

"There they are!" Bob heard her say. As they walked up to the steps, she looked curiously at her parents. She knew them well enough to know they were upset ... anxious. It was obvious to Bob that Crystal hadn't told her about the baby.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her question subdued.

"This man is a Medicine Man," said Linda, touching Greasy Face's elbow. "We want him to take a look at you."

"Mother!" said Brenda, indignantly. "I feel fine! I wish you'd stop worrying! Dr. MacNiel said I'm in remission." She looked at Bob. "I suppose YOU had something to do with this." She folded her arms under her breasts.

Bob looked at Crystal. She looked back, with no trace of what she was thinking on her face.

"Just let him take a look at you," said Bob, gently.

Greasy Face had been staring at the girl ever since they got close to her. She looked at him. Now he smiled.

"heebe be'éíyoo' ni," he said. "That means Hello, little flower, in my language." His eyes sparkled.

Brenda smiled. "What kind of flower," she asked.

"It is a small white, flat-topped flower, that is very beautiful," said the old man, to the young girl. "May I touch you?"

"Thank you," she said politely. "Yes, you may."

Greasy Face went to stand in front of her. She wasn't wearing her hat, and he smoothed his hands over the inch long hairs that sprung out all over it. He walked around her, as he did so, until he was behind her. His hands slid down her neck, to her shoulders.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly. His hands went to rest on her abdomen, and then, slowly, lifted to cup her breasts. It happened so quickly that no one was prepared for it. His hands squeezed gently, and lifted, as if he were weighing them, or maybe feeling what was inside them. As Brenda took a breath to say something, his hands slid back down, and off her body, dropping away.

"Why did you do that?" asked Brenda, turning to look at him. He had done it right in front of her parents, and she had no idea what to think. Her father would be furious. She looked at him, but he was standing there, looking decidedly ... curious.

"The thing inside your head is not a good thing," he said. "But it grows weaker. This I can feel. It is dying. You have many years left to be a mother."

"Mother?" Her face was blank. He had felt her abdomen ... and breasts.

"Life grows within you. You will bear a strong son." He looked at Bob, his eyes glinting. "The child's aura feels ... familiar," he said.

Bob flushed.

"What's going on?" asked Brenda, shaking her head, as if to clear it. "What life? What son?"

"He says you're pregnant, dear," said her mother. Linda's eyes were shining brightly.

Brenda paled, and Crystal came up behind her to put her hands on her waist to support her.

"Pregnant?" Brenda's voice was almost a whisper.

"I told them," said Bob then, "about us."

Her eyes strayed to him, and, like a wilted plant that has been given water, she straightened up.

"You TOLD THEM?!" she wailed.

"I had to," he said, holding out his hands. "Greasy Face told me you were pregnant, this morning, after you arrived. I had to tell your parents. I couldn't risk any of your treatment hurting the baby."

She turned around, her hands on her face, and bent over.

"Ohhhhhhhh, you told them," she moaned.

She whipped around, glaring at Bob. "They'll NEVER let me stay here now, you idiot!" she barked. She turned to her parents, eyes flashing. "I LOVE HIM!" she yelled. She blinked and went pale again. "I'm ... pregnant?" Her voice was almost a whine. He own hands came to her belly, then, and she turned to Greasy Face. "I'm pregnant?"

He smiled. "It is a strong, healthy baby, even though it is very young."

"It's a boy?" she squealed. "How do you know?"

Greasy Face grinned and shrugged. "If I told you, you would not understand. He will be born when the be'éíyoo' ni, after which you are named, first blooms next spring. If it is a girl instead, I will gift you a pony. That is how sure I am." He stood up straight, which made him just a hair taller than Brenda.

She looked stunned, but suddenly animated again as she ran down the steps and threw herself at Bob, hugging him in a fierce grip. "I'm PREGNANT!" she squealed. "THANK YOU, THANK, YOU , THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!"

Bob held her uncomfortably, smiling weakly, as he glanced at her parents. Dave looked slightly ill. Linda looked much better, a hint of a smile on her face.

She felt the stiffness in Bob's embrace, and pulled back. "That's OK ... isn't it?" Her face slowly transposed into a frown. "Oh, Bob, PLEASE tell me it's OK," she moaned.

"Your parents are not happy," he said softly. "But if you want me to be ... I am."

"MY PARENTS!" she yipped, turning to face them. She dashed to her mother and hugged her, making her take a step.

"Mommy, I'm PREGNANT!" she said, excitement in her voice. Then, to everyone's astonishment, she broke into tears.

"Don't cry, baby, it will be all right," moaned her mother.

Brenda pushed back. The look on her face was twisted.

"I'm not SAD," she sobbed. "I'm so haaaaapeeeeeee" she started bawling again.

"We don't actually KNOW that you're pregnant, darling," said her mother, worried now. "We need to get you to the doctor."

"OK," said Brenda excitedly.

She whirled to face Bob. "I can't stay right now. Can I come back later?"

Bob felt a little loopy. That she was so happy about this made his heart soar. That her parents were so angry, made him ill at ease.

"You need to talk to your parents," he said, his voice serious.

She blinked. "Of course!" she said. "I have to make them understand." She brightened. "I'll call you." she said happily.

Crystal took Bob's elbow and pulled him toward the house, while Dave and Linda took charge of their excited offspring. They hurried toward the room, to get her luggage. Crystal took him to the kitchen and sat him down on a stool.

"You OK?" she asked.

"I have no idea," he said, rubbing his jaw where Dave had hit him.

"It was a stroke of genius to get Greasy Face involved," she said, admiringly.

"Mrs. Ronson demanded to talk to him. Then she asked him to ... examine Brenda." Bob shook his head.

"I think it went pretty well," said Crystal.

"We'll see, I guess." said Bob.

He was still sitting there, drinking a cup of coffee, when he heard yelling out in the hallway.

"I AM going to say goodbye!" he heard Brenda's strident voice, and her father's gruff one, though he couldn't understand what he said.

The door pushed open, and Brenda strode in. She came to Bob and stepped between his knees, forcing them apart. Her arms went around his neck, and she kissed him, long and hard. When it was over, Bob saw her parents standing in the open doorway. They looked a little shell-shocked.

"I wanted to leave my things here," she said. "Because I'm coming back." She wrinkled her nose. "Daddy insisted that I take my suitcase back home, but I'm not unpacking it. I AM coming back!" she said forcefully. "I love you, Bob." She kissed him again.

He held her waist, and pushed her back.

"And I love you too," he was finally able to say to her. "Now ... don't fight with your parents," he said. "I'm not going anywhere. Call me, if you can, but don't argue with your parents. They're just trying to look out for you."

"You're as bad as they are," she pouted. She grinned. "I love them too." Then she pecked his lips with hers, and turned around to go with them.