Vasaro, France
July 12, 1978

"I've been looking all over for you. What are you doing hiding here in the grove at night?" Jacques D'Abler knelt beside the girl. "You should be in bed, ma petite.

"It's gone too, Jacques," Caitlin whispered. "He took my necklace."

Jacques's callused hand was gentle as it stroked back her hair. "Perhaps it will come back to you someday, little one."

"No, I ran after him down the driveway but he never looked back. Mother said he doesn't love us anymore." She burrowed her face in his shoulder. "She says he'll never return to Vasaro."

"Come along to the house." He stood up and pulled her to her feet.

"Is it true?"

"Yes, I believe it is true. He will never return."

"But why did he have to take my Pegasus? I loved it so. He gave it to me, Jacques."

"I know he did."

"He hung it around my neck and said it made me look as pretty as my mother. I knew that wasn't the truth but--" She broke off as another sob choked her. "I'm sorry. I'm being a baby about this, aren't I?"

"Twelve isn't so old. You're entitled."

"He said that someday he'd take me to see the real Wind Dancer and we'd--"

"Shh, don't cry. The pain will go away. In the morning we'll go to the fields and you can pick the flowers. Would you like that?"

"I have to go to school tomorrow," she said dully.

"I'll make it all right with your mother."

"It was so beautiful, Jacques."

"The flowers are beautiful, too, and they'll always be here. No one can ever take them away from you."

"Never?"

"As long as you guard and nurture them, they'll be here for you." He gripped her hand. "Come. Let us get you home."

She fell into step with him. "He never really meant to take me to see the Wind Dancer, did he? It was a lie, all the others."

Jacques didn't answer.

She suddenly became aware of the sound of the cicadas and caught the heady scent of earth and the lavender growing in the north field. Jacques plodded steadily beside her, as strong and sturdy as the olive trees around them. Comfort flowed through her, soothing the raw pain and sorrow. Jacques was right, Vasaro was still there and would never betray her. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "May I really pick the lavender tomorrow?"

"We couldn't do without you." His hand tightened on her own. "Forget about that son of a -- your father. Vasaro will get along better without him and so will you."

They would have to get along without him, for he would never return.

And neither would her beautiful golden Pegasus.

"When he gave it to me, he told me it was worth a lot of money, but I never cared about that," she whispered. "It looked just like the Wind Dancer and I thought it meant something, Jacques. When he gave it to me I hoped . . ."

"Hoped what?"

She had hoped it meant her father really loved her, that he would never leave her again, that things would change at Vasaro. "Never mind."

"The Wind Dancer isn't magic, Caitlin."

"I didn't say it was magic." But she believed it was. Everything had gone wrong for her, but it wasn't the Wind Dancer's fault.

With the Wind Dancer, anything was possible.