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"She's busy trying to settle everyone down and get some meals together, so I offered to bring your tray up to you," he said. "Try to sit up and drink some of this and maybe eat a bite or two."

"I want to do what the doctor says, but I don't think I can swallow anything right now, Uncle Philip."

"I know," he said, nodding sympathetically, "but you have to keep up your strength."

I sat up and he brought the tray to my lap and sat down on the bed.

"Oh Christie, Christie," he moaned and took my hand into his. "A terrible, terrible thing has happened," he began. His fingers moved over mine as he spoke. "And we are all suffering because of it, but I promised myself, I promised your mother I would take care of you."

"You promised? When?"

"When she ran back inside," he replied. "She cried out to me and said, 'If anything happens to me, take care of my Christie.' "

"Mommy said that?" He nodded. "What about Jefferson?"

"Oh, Jefferson too, of course. Anyway, I will. From now on," he said, the blue in his eyes softening, "you will be no different from my own. I will love and cherish you no less," he added, holding my hand tightly.

"We're going to be all right," he continued, his fingers traveling up my forearm and then down as if he were searching for an invisible line. "We're still a family and we'll rebuild the hotel quickly."

He looked up, his eyes small and determined. "We've got insurance and we'll put it right to work. Oh, we won't be able to open the hotel this summer, but well restore it to just the way it was before this horrible thing happened. Of course, we'll modernize so that it won't ever happen again."

I looked toward the doorway because I heard a lot of noise. Richard and Melanie were speaking loudly, too. They sounded excited, but not like people in mourning.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Some of the staff are helping to move our things in," Uncle Philip said.

"Move in?" It never occurred to me that that was what would happen next.

"We're moving in whatever we can," he said. "Most of our things have been ruined by the fire. There was so much smoke. I wanted to get the other things out as quickly as I could." He smiled. "We're your family now," he said. "I would give everything not to have had this happen, but it has and we must do all the right things. After all, I'm a Cutler; I've inherited my grandmother's backbone," he added and straightened up as if to illustrate that literally. "She had a strength, a power to overcome any inconvenience."

"Inconvenience? This is more than an inconvenience, Uncle Philip," I snapped. No matter how great a woman Grandmother Cutler was thought to be and no matter what were her accomplishments, she would always remain the wicked witch in my mind because of the way she had treated Mommy.

"Of course. You're right. I didn't mean to make it sound small. What I do mean is to reassure you that I will always be here for you and we will build ourselves back and return to being the great family we were."

"Not without Mommy," I moaned, shaking my head. "Not without Daddy. We'll never be what we were."

"Of course not, but we've got to try. Your mother would have wanted us to try, wouldn't she? She wasn't the type to give up and crawl under the bed. She was too strong for that and I'm sure you will be, too. Am I right'?" He brushed the hair from my forehead just the way Mommy often did.

"Yes," I said, looking down. "I suppose."

"Good. You have inherited very strong genes, Christie. Just think of the terrible things your mother endured and look how beautiful and successful she became. And she didn't even have a family behind her the way you will," he added. "I'll be right beside you, every step of the way. Every crisis you have will be my crisis, too; every obstacle, my obstacle." He smiled. "I hope you will accept my help. I'll always be right here, as well as Aunt Betty and your cousins."

"Where will you all sleep?" I asked, looking up quickly.

"For the time being, Richard and Melanie will share the guest room Fern uses whenever she's here. There are twin beds in it. Whenever Fern comes, she can sleep on the couch in the den or in one of the guest bungalows untouched by the fire."

"And you and Aunt Bet?" I anticipated the answer and it made me sick inside.

"We're going to have to use your parents' room, of course. In a day or so, when you're up to it, you can go in with Aunt Bet and tell her what things of your mother's you want to keep and what we should pack and put up in the attic. I wouldn't want to see everything stuffed away, of course. Your mother had some very pretty things, some of which might fit Betty."

The tears began streaming down my cheeks.

"Now, now, Christie, don't make me tell you all these details. It's too soon. Look at what it's doing to you," he said and leaned forward to kiss the tears away from my cheeks. But I pulled back.

"I'm all right," I said. "I've got to look in on Jefferson," I added.

"Of course. I'm in the process of making the funeral arrangements," he said, standing. I looked up quickly.