Theresa looked at Nick’s battered body and was amazed that he had told them nothing. She could not fathom the ferocity with which they had beaten him. "You really are a survivor, aren’t you?" she said to him. "Your Pa would be so proud of his ‘Little Man’."

"Papa," Nick whispered. "Papa?"

She smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "He is not here, Nick."

Then Theresa began to carefully and gently wash each cut.

She spoke with him as she worked, trying to distract him from the pain. "Remember the picnics?"

"You’d bring all that food… ," he answered, slowly. His voice just a rasp.

"And you would eat it," she finished for him, smiling. "We rode those camels… ."

"And we’d be sore for a week… ."

"Every time," Theresa went on. "But… ."

"We’d keep on doin’ it!" Nick concluded with a weak chuckle.

"Do you know what I miss the most?" Theresa asked.

Nick looked at her, too tired to answer. She wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"I miss walking hand in hand with you along the beach at sunset every day. It was always so peaceful. Sometimes you would bring a box of chocolates. And you would always let me have the coconut ones. We would sit and eat and talk for hours. You would tell me all about your Mama and Papa, Susanna, Ben, even Becky." She smiled at him. He managed a smile back.

"I never knew anyone that I could talk with like I could talk with you. We would share our hopes and dreams… ." She stopped and they looked at each other, both with tears in their eyes, realizing that those dreams would never come true. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and went on, smiling at him. "And if we stayed real late, you would give me your jacket."

"Ya think ya would’ve learned ta bring yer own after a while," he rasped, breathing becoming increasingly difficult.

Soon Taylor returned with the whiskey. Nick gratefully took the bottle and Taylor helped him up and steadied his hand, helping him to drink. He winced as the whiskey touched his cut lips, but he drank earnestly, eager to dull the pain enveloping his body. "Easy Nick," Theresa said, as he showed no signs of stopping.

Taylor eased his head back down again and an eerie silence enveloped them as they all realized what had to come next. His hands shaking, Taylor opened the second bottle. Theresa could see the pain, fear, and fatigue clouding Nick’s eyes as he struggled to breath.

"Taylor?" Nick asked, trying to find his friend through the pain-induced haze. "Taylor?"

"I’m right here," Taylor answered, touching Nick’s arm to show him where he was.

"If I… ." Nick stopped, catching his breath. "If I don’t… ."

"Don’t talk like that Nick."

"Would ya look after Ben for me, Taylor?" Nick requested. Theresa gasped and took Nick’s right hand in hers and he closed around hers tightly.

"You’re gonna be fine, Nick," Taylor replied, unable to admit the possibility.

"Taylor!" Nick said, "I never asked nothin’ from ya but I need ya now."

Growing more upset at Taylor’s silence Nick looked at Theresa as he struggled with the intensifying pain, the shortness of breath, and the blurry vision.

She looked at him and then at Taylor. "I know this is difficult Taylor, but he needs to know that you will be there for him."

Taylor looked around uneasily and then at Nick. "I should have been there for you tonight," he said, clearing his throat.

"It’s alright Taylor. Wasn’t your fight." Nick choked back the pain again, able to speak just one word at a time. "Tell Ben I’m sorry I don’t got nothin’ ta leave ‘im."

Taylor nodded his head yes, afraid of what might happen if he tried to speak at that moment.

"And tell ‘im, tell ‘im… ." Nick choked back tears.

"He knows you love him, Nick. He knows," Theresa assured him, stroking his head.

Nick looked at her, his voice quivering. "He’ll be all alone."

"No he won’t," said Taylor, taking Nick’s left hand and holding it.

"Make sure he won’t," encouraged Theresa, still holding his right hand. She wiped a single tear from his cheek. "Hold on Nick. Keep breathing."

They stayed in silence, Nick holding on desperately to Theresa’s and Taylor’s hands as if clinging to life itself.

Theresa watched the pain, fear, and fatigue in his eyes slowly mix with a determination not to give in to them. "That’s right Nick. Keep trying."

"Let’s get started," he said finally.

"Are you sure you’re ready for this?" Taylor asked, holding Nick’s left hand tightly.

"No," Nick answered with just a touch of panic in his voice. "But let’s get going."

Dreading the additional suffering this would impose on their friend, but knowing that they had little choice if they wanted to prevent infection, Taylor held Nick down as Theresa began to sterilize the cuts.

Nick prayed that he would pass out, but he did not. He screamed and writhed in agony through the mind-numbing pain. Tears spilled down Theresa’s cheeks, mixing with the whiskey on his chest. Taylor, with tears in his own eyes, had to struggle to keep him down.

When the bottle was empty, Theresa stroked Nick’s head and spoke to him tenderly to calm him as he mumbled incoherently, his body shaking uncontrollably. "It’s all over Nick. I know it hurts, but it will ease in a little while. Just try to relax."

As he settled, Taylor let him go. He reached his trembling right hand up and wiped the tears from Theresa’s face, consoling her. She pressed her cheek into his palm. Then she took his hand and held it, gently massaging his swollen wrist as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

Next, with Taylor barely able to watch, Theresa began the difficult process of stitching up the cuts, with nothing but the whiskey to ease his suffering. She heard Nick’s silent plea to help him cope.

"Remember when I was so sick?" she asked while she worked, amazed that he was still conscious and trying again to distract him from the pain. "You stayed by my bedside until my father chased you out. And then you came back through the window." She shook her head as she smiled.

"Would he really have shot me if he found me back in there?" Nick struggled to ask, one word at a time between the stitches.

"Probably," she laughed. "But only in the leg so you wouldn’t be able to climb back up there again." She brushed his sweaty hair back from his face.

She worked tirelessly through the night, wiping tears from her eyes as Nick hovered on the brink of consciousness and Taylor fell asleep in a chair.

Noticing how tense his whole body had become, Theresa asked Nick, "Do you want me to stop for a while?" His eyes told her yes.

She put the needle down, stood up and stretched as Nick closed his eyes and tried to relax. After a short break, she rubbed his leg gently, hoping he was asleep. He opened his eyes slowly and then pressed his head back into the bed, bracing himself against the pain.

"Zatoon." Nick whispered as Theresa began to stitch again.

"The city?"

"Yeah. Remember… ." He could not say any more so Theresa reminisced for him.

"That was a marvelous trip. It was just so amazing to see the tree that gave shade to Mary and Joseph and the infant Jesus when they fled to Egypt."

"Yeah," Nick whispered, almost inaudibly.

"And to think that it grew in the desert just for them and has never died," she added, her voice cracking as she watched him suffer through the stitches.

Nick nodded his head in agreement.

"Remember how thrilling it was to dip our hands in the spring that came up in the desert just to quench their thirst?"

Nick looked at her, attempting a smile.

"I have never had another moment like that. That tree and that spring were certainly miracles," she decided as she felt Nick’s body relax suddenly.

Catching her breath she reached to find his pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when she found it, weak though it was. We could surely use a miracle now, she thought.

Nick awoke hours later to find Theresa sitting in the chair next to the bed, her head on his leg. He brushed the hair back from her face and watched her sleep. The very sight of her helped him to manage the intense and constant pain.

When she and Taylor awoke they bound Nick’s broken ribs and wrapped his sprained wrist.

"Good as new, huh?" Nick joked as they finished. They smiled, marveling at his indomitable spirit.

"Anything Nicky."

"Ya gotta go with Theresa ta the ship by yourselves. Ya should be leavin’ soon, too. I ain’t gonna make it. Leave me here."

"Nick,…" Taylor tried to speak.

Theresa shook her head no and held Nick’s hand. "I’m staying with you, Nick. I am not going to leave you like this."

Those words meant so much to Nick. He had longed to hear her say that she wanted to be with him. But now he could not let her.

"Ya gotta Theresa. I’ll be alright. Ya fixed me up real good. Now, go with Taylor." He kissed her hand gently and let it go. "The longer ya stay here the easier for them ta find ya."

"Nick!" Taylor said loudly. They both looked at him. "I didn’t tell you this last night but our ship has been delayed. It’s not leaving today. The whole port is closed for two days."

"Then you’ll take a train out. Go north to Port Said. Get a ship out from there," Nick declared, using all his strength.

"Nick," Taylor said, almost apologetically, "the trains are stopped, too."

"Had Achmad bribed them all?" Zach asked.

"That’s what the word was," Taylor replied.

"Oh my!" Amy exclaimed. "You must have been terrified."

"We were," admitted Taylor. "But Nick insisted that I go to work as usual so that no one would know that I was involved. Achmad was trying hard to find her, paying anyone for any bit of information they might have. I was afraid that if I returned to them I might be followed. So, I stayed away."

"I was scared for ya. Thought they’d gotten ya," Nick admitted. He picked up the story from there, his voice shaky. Staring into the fire, his back was to the others.

"Theresa," her name rolled off of his lips like a poem. He smiled at the sound of it. "Theresa stayed by my side for two days, tendin’ ta me, talkin’ ta me, distractin’ me, givin’ me water, tryin’ ta get me ta eat." He shook his head as he let out a sigh. "I’d have ta promise ta still be breathin’ when she woke up just ta get her ta sleep. When the day came, we left early, tried ta anyway. I wanted ta be on the ship well before sun up."

Nick had put her bags down and sat down in the chair a half hour ago, trying to conserve what little energy he had. "Come on Theresa. We gotta go!"

"I just need to finish brushing my hair," she pleaded, looking at him.

"Ya look beautiful already, Theresa, as always," he answered with a smile. "Now let’s go!" He stood slowly, holding his ribs, pain surging through his body. He picked up her bags, ignoring the pain it brought to his wrist.

She came to him. "I am so scared Nick."

"I know ya are," he said, putting her bags down and taking her hands in his. "But I’m gonna take care of ya. I promise. Won’t let him do nothin’ to ya ever again."

Her body was next to his and she was gazing into his eyes. Overcome by the moment he leaned down to kiss her. She stretched up and kissed him back, running her fingers through his hair. He had waited so long for this.

Suddenly, she pulled back. "I cannot do this Nick. Not now, not ever."

The pain inflicted on Nick by those few words was greater than any that her husband and his men had meted out days before. He stared at her, motionless, stunned, forcing himself to breathe.

"I may be leaving him, but I am still his wife," she explained.

"Alright," he mumbled, his heart as broken as his body. He picked up the bags and turned to the door. "Let’s go."

Taylor quickly shoved Nick back into his chair before anybody else realized what was happening. Nick looked at Jo and she gave him the strength to go on with the story.

"When we arrived at the port everything went wrong. First, the ship was not docked where Taylor had said it would be. Had to walk all over ta find it. Then when we finally found it they said there was no record o’ Theresa on the passenger list. We had ta wait for them on the dock as the sun began ta rise. We were like sittin’ ducks in the light."

"Finally the captain came out himself. I explained that I was crewin’ and that Theresa was a passenger. Told him that we were with Taylor. He spoke ta the mate and told him ta take her bags and bring her on board."

"Thank ya, sir," Nick said to the captain, as he wiped the pain-induced perspiration from his brow. Just standing was difficult enough and he had been carrying those bags for an hour as they searched the port for the ship. His whole body was screaming to him to stop and lie down. He thought he would be able to do that now. But he could not.

The mate began to lead Theresa up the ramp when they heard Achmad’s voice. "Thurayya! Thurayya!"

"Go!" Nick shouted to Theresa. "Please sir, take her on board now," he pleaded to the captain.

"I’ll be right there, Theresa. Go on," Nick said, glancing quickly back and forth between Theresa and her approaching husband.

"Nick, don’t."

"I’m gonna protect ya Theresa, like I promised."

As Theresa moved away, Nick turned and faced Achmad head on. He was alone. He and his men had split up to search the port for the ship.

"You are not dead yet?" Achmad asked Nick in Egyptian.

"I am your worst nightmare. You will never get rid of me," Nick replied angrily in Egyptian. "Just leave her alone." As Achmad moved to the left, Nick stepped to the right to block his path.

"Get out of my way!" Achmad demanded. He swung his left arm at Nick’s face and Nick blocked it with his right. The blow sent pain through Nick’s cut, sprained wrist.

He was unable to move quickly enough to block the next tremendous blow to his broken ribs. He dropped to his knees in pain, struggling to breathe.

For several nauseous moments Nick thought that he would pass out. He fought it.

Achmad pushed past him and headed for the ship. Finding strength from deep within, his mind only on Theresa, Nick moved after him. He grabbed Achmad from behind and threw him to the ground.

Reeling from the pain, Nick pulled out the gun and pointed it at him. "Get out of here," he shouted. "Stay away from her."

Achmad rose to his feet and began to back away. As he watched him go, Nick turned his head in time to see that his men had met up and were all running towards them.

"Get out of here," Nick shouted, raising the gun at them.

Suddenly, gunfire exploded around him. He dove to the ground and returned the fire until his gun was empty. And then he saw her behind him. He rose to his feet totally unaware of the pain tearing through his body.

"Theresa? Theresa?" he cried out as he ran to her. He knelt down next to her motionless body. The sight of the blood, normally not a problem for him, sickened and angered him.

He lifted her and held her in his arms, rocking, as tears poured down his face. "Theresa? Theresa? Please talk to me Theresa. Tell me you can hear me," he said in Egyptian. There was no response. She did not even move.

"I’m so sorry," he continued. "I love you Theresa. I love you." Then everything went black.