Micah:

It's close to 10 pm as I make my way back to the main house. My mind is in turmoil, I have spent the last hour and a half listening as Sam and Mitchell talked with Rosy. It had quickly become apparent there was something wrong with her memory, that she had no memory of a lot of things that happened while she lived here. I can't be sure how much is truth and how much is an act, I only know something is very wrong with her.

I leave the winter jacket hanging in the laundry before I make my way to the kitchen. I glance around those gathered at the table and find them all watching me silently. Timny and Chris have a stubby of beer each while Celeste and Lilly have cups of coffee.

"It's definitely Rosy," I say quietly.

"Rosy would never have let any of us take her sons away like that," Lilly says firmly.

"She claims she doesn't know anyone, that she can't remember anything," I say with a hard look directed at her. I glance at Timny as he gets to his feet but he turns and heads towards the other doorway.

"Jazzy will want to know what's going on," Chris says quietly. I give a nod and wait for Jazzy to appear. I don't want to have to repeat the story over and over again. It's not long before I hear hurried footsteps and Jazzy appears in the doorway at the other end of the room. She has a small blanket wrapped kitt held closely against her body and she eyes me suspiciously for a few moments.

"I want to know what is going on and I want to know now!" Jazzy snaps.

"Sit down," I tell her. I don't want her dropping Cameron if what I have to say shocks her.

"Don't tell me what to do in my own house Micah Williamson!" Jazzy snaps. "Either tell me what is going on or you get back to the quarters now!"

"Come on Jazzy, sit down," Timny urges softly as he puts an arm out behind her to shepherd her to a chair.

"Don't you try to touch Cameron," Jazzy warns with a growl.

"No I won't," Timny tells her soothingly as she takes a seat. She looks at me with narrowed eyes and I take a deep breath.

"Rosy's back, turned up in ..." I begin to tell her. Even now after several hours it seems surreal, as if I stopped and closed my eyes for a few moments I would wake to find it was just another dream.

"How is she? Did she say what happened?" Jazzy begins to demand. "Did she tell you what stopped her coming back to you?"

"She was living with some tom out past the central tablelands," I say flatly.

"BUT WHY?" Jazzy demands. "Rosy was crazy in love with you! Anyone can tell you that! Didn't that ... that ... brother of Edwin's partner say she was dead? That she got hit by a vehicle?"

"She says she'd been in an accident," I admit. "And it was him, Andrew Dorrington she was with,"

"Chris go tell Mitchell to get back here and look after Cameron so I can go see Rosy!" Jazzy demands.

"Jazzy leave it until tomorrow," I say firmly. "Rosy is asleep. She's got a bad cold and Sam's called Doc, just let her rest for now."

"Why are you and the boys over here if Rosy is at the quarters?" Jazzy suddenly asks with narrowed eyes. "You and the boys should be there with her!"

"Rosy doesn't remember anyone," I say with a sigh. The more I say it, the more I think on it, the more certain I am that something really is wrong with Rosy.

"That's what was wrong with her face!" Celeste exclaims. "It wasn't just that short hack job of a hair cut! She's had a serious head injury!"

"What do you mean hack job of a haircut?" Jazzy demands.

"All I noticed about her was she had short hair but there was some hair that could have been a fringe but ..." Celeste stops for a moment, a look of intense concentration on her face.

"Her face looked wrong," Celeste says. "As if someone slammed a sledgehammer into the left side of her face. And the hair looked like it had slid down onto the top part of her forehead, and looked ragged on the sides and possibly round back."

I close my eyes as I turn my face away from everyone at the table. The image of how Rosy's head had looked runs through my mind. I had been perplexed, unable to say exactly what had been bothering me about it. Now I realise what it was. It had looked like Rosy had almost been scalped and the resulting flap of skin had been badly placed and poorly secured.

"Rosy didn't return home to you because she was too badly injured to wasn't she?" Lilly asks in a wobbly voice.

"I don't know," I say grudgingly. "Maybe Doc can tell us more."

"You should be over there with her," Jazzy says firmly.

"I need to look after the boys," I say. "I have to work out how to explain things to them if Rosy really can't remember them."

"Yeah," Jazzy says dryly and I glance her way to find her staring at Celeste. "Sure, whatever you say." I grit my teeth at the scepticism in her voice.

"I'm going to check on the boys," I say heading towards the door that will let me get to the bedrooms. I hear footsteps behind me as I walk through the living room and glance back over my shoulder with an annoyed frown. I am relieved when I see it is Celeste who has followed me and I give her a slight nod before I enter the bedroom where my three sons are sleep. Our sons, I correct myself. Silently I check each child making sure they are still covered up warmly before I leave the room and go to the bedroom I used while I was growing up.

"Are you okay?" Celeste asks quietly as I stand staring at what had been my bed in the room I had shared with Alex. There are too many thoughts whirling around in my head, to many emotions churning in my gut. I shake my head before sitting down on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees and holding my head in my hands.

"Rosy's alive," I say on a whisper. "Rosy's alive, she's back here but that's not my Rosy!" The words hurt as they come up past the lump in my throat and I feel tears fill my eyes while my chest aches.

"Oh Micah!" Celeste is suddenly there in front of me. Her arms go around my shoulders and I wrap my arms around her waist as I bury my face against her stomach. I feel my tears flow thick and fast, I had dreamed of this happening, of Rosy returning. But in every dream she had come to me and thrown herself into my arms. Some times she had apologised for being away so long, sometimes she had simply cried. But always she had repeatedly told me how much she loved me and had missed me.

"It will be okay Micah," Celeste tells me softly. I can feel her running her fingers through my hair and for a moment it irritates me. Other than Marissa when trimming my hair, I had never liked anyone but Rosy running their fingers through my hair.

"First thing in the morning you will go over there and see what Doc has to say," Celeste says firmly. "And then you will work out how to handle things from there."

"How did you become so wise?" I ask quietly after I get my emotions back under control.

"I'm practical," Celeste says with a soft laugh. "I inherited it from my mother. And I'll be returning home tomorrow,"

"Why?" I ask. "I thought you planned to stay for another week,"

"Because your wife is back," Celeste says softly. "Yes we went out a couple of times and to be honest I was starting to think of you as more than a friend. I won't stay around here waiting to see if you either get back with your wife or separate."

"I don't expect you to," And as I say the words I am surprised to find I am relieved she will be leaving.

"I'll go now and let you get some sleep," Celeste says as she takes several steps towards the door. "Between the boys and Rosy you will need to be well rested."

Rosy:

The need to go to the toilet wakes me. Tantalising scents fill the air and I take a deep breath only to start coughing. Reluctantly I open my eyes as memories of the night before flood my mind. I am curled up on my side in a recliner chair, warm blankets tucked snugly around me and I can hear the soft sounds of others in the room. The faint noise of someone moving makes me turn my head and I see a dark form get up and head my way. It takes me a few moments to recognise Sam in the darkness but I smile as he leans close to check on me.

"You okay?" Sam asks quietly.

"I need to go to the toilet," I whisper in reply.

"Do you need a hand up?" Sam asks as I push the blankets aside. I glance around at the sleeping forms on the floor before looking at my brother.

"Yes please," I answer. "I don't want to end up falling over." Sam stops me for a moment, wraps a blanket around my shoulders and then offers me an arm to hang onto. I am glad when he leads me directly from the room and to a toilet. It is the first time since getting here that I have needed to go.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" Sam asks as he leads me back to the lounge room and the comfy chair.

"Something to eat and drink?" I ask hopefully. "But not a lot, I can't eat much,"

"That's because your stomach has shrunk from not having enough to eat," The strange male voice catches me off guard and I turn towards where it come from with an uncomfortable hiss. For a few moments memories of Hank's relentless hunting of me surface and I glance around uneasily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," The guy says quietly. As he steps nearer I watch him closely, there is something about him. It teases at the edge of my mind and I frown as I take a step back from him.

"Rosy? You okay?" Sam asks. "Doc didn't mean to startle you." The name they call me sounds strange, yet familiar at the same time and a slight ache starts behind my eyes as I try to block out the knowledge.

"Doc? You're a doctor?" I ask. "A werecat doctor?"

"Sort of," He answers and a strange feeling skitters across my skin. I find myself moving so that Sam is between this stranger and me. I glance between them nervously to see both of them watching me closely.

"What's the matter Rosy?" Sam asks quietly. I turn my head and watch this 'Doctor' from the corner of my eyes nervously.

"Rosy?" Sam prompts and I realise I have been standing there for some time.

"Do you know me Rosy?" The stranger asks gently.

"Should I?" I ask defensively. I can hear the fear and uncertainty in my own voice and I hiss when he raises his hand.

"It's okay Rosy," Sam says soothingly. "You knew Doc but you weren't always a voluntary patient."

"Sam said you have some concerns about your pregnancy," The stranger says and I am suddenly reminded of my fears for my unborn child. "Would you like to talk about what has you worried? But I won't be able to do much unless I examine you and that means touching you,"

I eye him a moment as I consider what he said before glancing at Sam. For some reason, despite the fact I have no memory of Sam until I met him a few hours ago I have complete trust in him. I know there is no way he would let this werecat that I feel uneasy around do anything to harm me.

"As long as Sam is there," I say and glance between the two of them. Sam smiles and reaches a hand out towards me, I slip my hand into his. He pulls me close so he can put his arm around my waist.

"Lets go see what there is to eat in the kitchen," Sam says quietly.

"It's no trouble for me to get up and cook something," A voice says among the motionless forms and I study them closely to work out who spoke.

"I'm sure I can fry a bit of bacon," Sam says as he guides me into the kitchen.

"Can I have a sandwich?" I ask as I sit in the chair Sam pulls out from the table.

"I'll grab a loaf of her favourite bread from the deep freezer," Someone says near the doorway and I turn my head to see Mikkarl, the tall dark haired guy who had cooked the meal I had eaten when I got here. I return his smile, like almost everyone else here I felt comfortable and at ease with him. Sam rattles a frypan on the stove and within minutes a smoky, rich aroma begins to fill the kitchen and my mouth begins to water in anticipation.

"Is that the bacon?" I ask with interest as I watch Sam turn strips of meat in the frypan. Sam turns his head to look at me with a closed expression.

"Yes," He says evenly. "Didn't you eat bacon when you were with Dorrington?" He is careful to keep his tone neutral but I get the feeling no one here liked Drew but they haven't openly said it to me.

"Only on take-away food when he could afford it and it never smelt like that," I say and swallow as my mouth waters.

"Should have known he wasn't looking after you properly," Sam mutters under his breath. "Where is he by the way?"

"Drew came here and told you lot I was dead didn't he?" I ask quietly as I watch Sam. Memories of the way Drew had looked when he had returned to me run through my mind and I wait for Sam's answer.

"He came here with some story about finding your dead body," Sam says tightly.

"So you beat him up? Once? Twice? Three times or was it more?" I ask surprising myself with the bitterness that still fills me when I think of how badly beaten Drew had been.

"He turned up and said he had found your body," Sam says tightly as he turns to face me. "According to him it was over five months from when he claims he cremated you to when he turned up. The way he spoke he made it sound like your remains were rubbish to be gotten rid of the easiest and quickest way possible. He even returned your wedding ring and the locket Mitchell and I gave you on your birthday. According to what he told us Dorrington left us in the hell of not knowing you were gone for five months."

I stare at him at a loss for what to say. Drew had told me such a totally different story, he had made it sound like he'd had no other option but to tell them a lie.

"Did you tell him you would let me come back and accept him as well, but only if he was castrated?" I ask even as I place a hand on the small swell of my stomach. Sam's eyes follow the movement of my hand and the muscles in both cheeks tense as I hear him grind his teeth.

"Didn't I just say he turned up and told us you were dead?" Sam demands tightly.

"So you weren't mad when I chose him over the guy our parents, Mitchell and you picked out for me?" I persist needing to know. "Did you threaten him if he came back with me?"

"YOU asked Micah to marry you. Mitchell and I did not choose him you did!" Sam snaps. "One day you were the picture of happiness with Micah and your boys and the next you had vanished into thin air! And I don't believe you could have been in love with the bastard because when you were pregnant with Wynn, Dorrington ran off and left you by yourself with Terry and Dacey for the three of you to be murdered!"

I look away from his anger filled eyes. What Drew had told me against what Sam has been telling me whirls around and around in my head and I look back at Sam startled as something he said registers fully.

"Wynn? I was pregnant with Wynn? Is he the only one I gave birth to? Didn't you tell me the boys were adopted?" I ask in horror. If I am correct I gave birth to a son but can't remember, my own flesh and blood. I search frantically for some memory of a child, some shred of feeling but I only know my love for the child I carry inside me. Horror fills me as I accept the truth. Memories of my life before my head injury has been lost and my life with Drew, the only life I remember, is all lies.

"You sure you don't want to ask your precious Drew if any of the boys are adopted?" Sam snarls tightly. I get up from the table and return to the chair in the lounge room. I feel overwhelmed as I crawl onto the chair and pull the covers over my head.

How many times had I tried to come back here only to have Drew find me and take me further away? Was the pull for my child so strong to try to bring me back here when all memories were gone? I have so many questions I want to ask Drew about why he done what he did but there is no way I will ever be able to ask him any of them.

"I thought she said she wanted something to eat," I hear Sam growl in the kitchen and I burst into tears as I press the covers to my face to muffle any sound I might make. It isn't long before the covers are pulled off my head and out of my clenched fists. I turn my tear damp face into the pillow and refuse to look at whoever done it.

"Stop your sulking and eat the food I got you," Sam says levelly but I can hear the strain in his voice.

"I'm not sulking!" I deny as I reach for the covers to hide beneath once again but Sam has a firm hold of them and doesn't let them go. I feel so miserable and need someone to hold me but none of these here seem inclined to smoother me in attention the way Drew had since I had been ill.

"Being angry with me isn't going to help," Sam sighs sounding tired.

"I'm not angry with you," I say and sniff back more tears. "I am hurt that Drew told me so many lies and kept me away from all of you! My kitts, my brothers, my family and I can't even ask him why he told such horrible lies to me when he always claimed he was only trying to protect me! And I can't even ask him why he done it,"

"Tell me where he is and I will see he is dragged back here and I will personally make sure he answers all those questions and more," Sam growls low in his throat.

"I can't," I say and hide my face in the pillow as I begin crying once again.

"Why the hell not?" Sam demands.

"Sam ease up," Someone, I think the one who claims to be a doctor, says.

"Rosy?" Sam asks softly and my defences are undone when he strokes my back gently.

"Because he's dead," I say as I turn my face away from the pillow for a few moments. "Someone shot him and he's dead!"

I bury my face in the pillow once more as my tears flow freely. I am aware of the sudden start of noises in the room and flinch when the light comes on. I can smell Sam as he pulls me into his arms and cradles me against his chest as he sits down on a chair or lounge.

"Do you know where he got shot? What happened?" Sam presses with some urgency. I sniffle loudly as I try to stop my tears but they roll down my cheeks without cease.

"No I wasn't close to him," I say and look away as I find him leaning close, an intense look on his face. I suddenly become aware that everyone is awake and most of them are watching Sam and I. I duck my head unhappily but Sam is cupping the side of my face in one hand and forcing me to look at him.

"What was he doing? Do you know who shot him?" Sam asks quietly stressing each word. I shake my head and try to look away as a sudden fear begins to build in my stomach. I'm not sure why I am afraid but some instinct warns me I am about to find out.

"Rosy answer me," Sam orders firmly. "What was he doing?"

"He was stalking a kill," I say as I watch him nervously. "It was dinner time and we had no money."

"What was he stalking?" Sam demands tightly. I feel my lips tremble and suddenly I know I had been right all the times I had felt uneasy about the choices of prey Drew made while with the dingos. I drop my gaze and try to avoid looking at him but he is that close I see some part of him no matter how I try to avoid him.

"Cattle," I whisper. "The last time it was cattle," I am hugged tightly against his body and can't help but take in his smell with each breath. I can feel him trembling and smell the fear that is mixed in his scent.

"But you didn't stalk any cattle did you!" Sam says forcefully. "You never killed any livestock,"

The memory of stealing kills from Mutto flash through my mind. Not all of them had been dead and I had despatched the animals before beginning to eat unlike Drew, Mutto and Hank who seemed to prefer eating while the animal still lived.

"Sheep," I whisper softly. "I killed sheep. We had no money but I was so hungry, they'd take me hunting and we would eat sheep."

"They?" Someone asks and I turn my head to look towards the voice frightened. I sense I have done something wrong but don't know what. I see Dwayne and Malcolm squatting in front of the chair watching me intently, Dwayne smiles reassuringly and reaches one hand towards me. I can't help it, I recoil and turn to hide against Sam's chest once more.

"There were other werecats with Dorrington?" Malcolm asks. "Did they tell you we don't prey on livestock?"

"They wouldn't kill kangaroos or wallabies unless they couldn't find easier prey," I say against Sam's chest.

"So when there was no food you ran down sheep and killed them to eat?" Sam asks quietly.

"I'd been sick, I was too weak to hunt for myself unless I accidentally got real close before I was seen." I say miserably. "I had to hope one of them would let me eat from one of their kills."

"It's alright, you're not in trouble." Malcolm says softly. "Can you tell us who the other cats were? Or where abouts you were when everyone went hunting sheep?"

"Ummm," I frown as I try to remember through the chaos in my head. Scenes of hunting cattle flit through my mind confusing me, the rich bloody taste of their flesh still warm from life.

"Inverell," I say naming where Drew told me we saw my alleged family. "Guyra, and further West."

"Who else was there?" Sam prompts gently. "Who were the other cats?"

"Hank and Mutto," I murmur with an uneasy glance towards Dwayne and Malcolm only to find more toms gathered behind them.

"Do you know their surnames?" Malcolm coaxes with a smile.

"But they weren't cats," I whisper softly and Malcolm stops smiling. "They were dingos."

"Bullshit!" Malcolm exclaims loudly as he gets to his feet and backs away. "We do not run with dogs!"

I look away hurriedly and wait for Sam to push me away from him. I can hear the others muttering softly, some of them angry, some disgusted. I jerk with surprise as someone rubs my back and I look over my shoulder nervously but it is only Justin and he smiles faintly at me.

"They didn't tell you not to kill livestock did they," he says gently. I shake my head before leaning it back against Sam's chest, Sam still has his arms around me and doesn't seem in a hurry to push me away. The reaction of the others has started to settle down and no one seems angry with me.

"How about you try to eat the food your brother made for you," The werecat doctor suggests.

"Yeah, good idea Doc," Sam says and drops a kiss on the top of my head.

Micah:

I hear soft conversation as I enter the quarters and walk along the hallway, everyone stops talking as I walk into the lounge room and I glance around curiously. I spot the image on the tv screen and look away as I recognise it. Doc is doing an ultra sound for Rosy and the sight of the kitt on the screen reminds me of all the plans we had made together. Mitchell gets to his feet from where he is squatting beside Rosy and heads over towards me with a serious look on his face.

"I need to have a few words with you," Mitchell says sternly as he approaches me.

"You're nearly finished here aren't you Doc?" Sam asks and I look at him to see him watching Mitchell and I.

"Yes," Doc says. I hear him turn off the machine but I don't look his way. I don't want to see the evidence of Rosy's pregnancy so early this morning.

"Let's just wipe this gel off your stomach and let you cover up and keep warm," Doc says gently.

"Outside Micah," Mitchell orders and I glance his way with narrowed eyes. I head outside, I can hear him following behind me and I move away from the building before I turn to face him.

"You decide right here, right now, if you are going to stick by Rosy or if you are going to walk out of the marriage and hook up with Celeste." Mitchell says in a hard tone of voice. The sound of the screen door opening interrupts as I take a deep breath to tell him to mind his own business. I glance towards the quarters to see Sam heading towards us with a closed look on his face.

"You tell him?" Sam asks in a hard tone.

"No I told him he makes his choice between Rosy and Celeste here and now," Mitchell says with a cold glance my way.

"Good, your all here in the one place," Doc says as he comes out of the building and heads towards us. "I'm afraid there is a serious problem,"

"You've already told us Rosy has had a very serious head injury," Mitchell says with a frown.

"That's a different problem. I'm talking about with the pregnancy," Doc says as he joins the small group that is gathering.

"Rosy's malnourished and has a bad chest infection," Sam says and shakes his head. "You've already told us and explained to us and Rosy what needs to be done."

"Why the hell wasn't I there when you started the examination?" I ask tightly. The knowledge Rosy is far from well doesn't sit well with me. "I happen to be her husband," I almost snarl.

"There's complications with the pregnancy," Doc says. "I want to take her to a friend who can do some more sophisticated tests. See how bad the head injury was. Check exactly where things stand with the pregnancy complications."

"What tests?" Mitchell asks suspiciously.

"An MRI on her head to see if we can tell how bad the injury was," Doc says and lets out a deep breath. "Then a sonogram in three-dimension so we can see exact details of what we are dealing with for the pregnancy."

"Is there anything that can be done for her head injury now?" I demand. Maybe there is something that can help bring her memory back. Bring my Rosy back.

"We need proof she has had a severe head injury. That it is conceivable she lost all memories," Mitchell says quietly.

"Exactly what is the problem with the pregnancy?" I ask Doc with a hard stare.

"I want to be exactly sure what it is I have to deal with before I say too much," Doc says quietly. "It may be nothing or it may be a problem I have to keep an eye on."

"But there's a chance nothing is wrong," Sam presses.

"The bleeding Rosy spoke of worries me," Doc stops and shakes his head. "The kitt is small, possibly not growing properly if the pregnancy is as far along as she says. Plus the kitt is in breech position when it should be head down if her dates are correct."

"Doc!" Mitchell says sharply. "We need proof she has had a severe head injury. That it is conceivable she lost all memories,"

"Go in there and take a good long look at your sister then come back out here and tell me she hasn't been injured," I say tightly to Mitchell.

"Dorrington took her killing stock," Sam says between clenched teeth. My stomach does a sudden flip and I catch my breath at his words.

"Rosy would nev ..." I stop speaking.

"If what she claims is true that isn't Rosy in there," Doc says evenly. "That is Harley. Someone who has no memories from before a very serious head injury, someone who was taken and taught to kill stock."

"How soon can you organise to get this test done?" I demand. "And how do we get our hands on Dorrington?"

"You with us or against us on this?" Sam asks coldly.

"I am not about to loose my wife a second time!" I snarl at him.

"Remember Edwin, his partner and some of the Willoughby warriors were hunting some rouge Weredingos?" Mitchell asks. I glance at him and get a sinking feeling when I see the expression in his eyes.

"Dorrington was running with them," Mitchell says in a monotone. "He took Rosy along on their stock killing hunts."

"No! Rosy would not kill stock!" I say angrily. "She never took part in the kills we made here with our eating cattle!"

"She has admitted she ate sheep when they had no money for food," Mitchell says flatly. "Admits to killing a downed animal,"

My stomach churns and my heart begins pounding as I turn and head into the quarters. I can't believe Rosy would be so stupid as to admit such a thing, no sooner the thought crosses my mind than I remember what Doc said. She had no memories to guide her in what is right or wrong and she might have been taught to kill stock.