The Nightmare begins

Chapter Twenty-One

Michael Rourke opened his dark eyes, squinting against the sun. His legs ached and he started to move, but then remembered the weight on his lap. He looked down at his mother's face, the eyes still closed. "Momma," he said softly. "Wake up—it's morning."

He looked across the flat expanse of ground and confirmed the rising sun. Millie and Annie were still asleep. The horses were still tied to the tree that he'd secured the reins to the previous night. Their saddles were still in position.

After his mother had fallen down and he hadn't been able to waken her, he'd had Millie and Annie watch her and he had loosened the straps under the horses'

bellies that held the saddles on—his mother called them "cinches," he remembered.

"Momma," he said again, shaking her head gently. He closed his eyes. "Millie, Annie! Get up— time to get up!" he shouted. Annie sat bolt upright, stared around her and then at him.

"How is Mommie?" she said.

"She'll be okay," he said. "Wake up Millie and have her make something to eat.

You know where it is—the food. Millie can reach the bags."

He looked back to his mother. The sunlight was just hitting her face and he watched her eyelids moving. "Momma!"

Sarah Rourke opened her eyes. "Ohh," she started, her voice sounding hoarse to him.

"Annie—get Momma some water."

Sarah Rourke stared at him—Michael couldn't tell if she was all right or not.

"Momma—are you going to be okay?"

He saw her moving her right hand toward him and he bent toward her, felt her hand—cold—against his cheek. "Momma!"

"Shh," Sarah said, the corners of her mouth raising faintly in a smile. "I'll be all right—just give me a hug and don't ask me to get up for a while— okay?"