Written in 55 minutes.

It was nearly three hours before a trio of horses rode through the gates of the ranch, and Elizabeth watched their approach to the house, fretting over the dark storm clouds looming ever closer.

The horses came right up to the house, Johnny followed by Dr. Drake and Dillon—Elizabeth went to the door, pulling it open just as the group reached it. “I’m so relieved you’ve made it back, but—”

“Don’t worry about the storm,” Dillon said, patting her arm and steering her away from the door as Patrick and Johnny brought in the supplies that had been stored in the saddlebags. “Patrick and I will get back to town before it hits. I didn’t want him riding on his own.”

“Where’s my patient?” Patrick asked, picking up the dark bag he’d brought.

“Upstairs. I’ll show you—”

“Best let me do that, missus,” Alice said, bustling past them. “Mister Jason won’t want you to get too close—” She began the climb to the second story, and Patrick followed. Elizabeth stared up mutinously. Surely a few seconds wouldn’t hurt—

“Johnny said Jason was handling everything on his own.”

“He worries for the baby.” Elizabeth rested her hand against the curve of her belly. “And I know that makes sense—”

“Here, let’s go in by the fire.” Dillon swept off his hat and led Elizabeth into the parlor. He checked the fireplace, adding another log. “Jason just doesn’t want to risk you. Can’t imagine anything worse than having to lose you and the babe—”

“I—I know that.”

“And the little mite is going to need you when his fever breaks,” Dillon continued. He spied the tea tray Alice kept refilling. “Let me pour you—”

“I just—he’s my son. I haven’t—” She sank onto the chaise, her eyes round with worry. “I’m frightened,” Elizabeth admitted finally. “That all of the efforts will not be enough, and we’ll—” She closed her mouth, unable to even allow the words out into the open.

“If Jason could will it to be done, Cameron would already be skipping around with his dog.” Dillon dragged a hand across the back of his neck. “Don’t know how he’ll manage if it happens again.”

“Again—” Elizabeth paused. “You’re speaking of Michael. Alice said Jason looked after him during the illness.”

“Before, during, and after,” Dillon said with a nod. “My cousin—his brother—AJ wasn’t much of a father. He and the wife, Caroline, were rarely here, always in San Francisco. Once little Michael was able to move around, Jason brought him out here a few times a week.”

“Oh. I didn’t—”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if Michael knew Jason better than his own father. When Michael fell ill, Jason wouldn’t let anyone else touch him. Don’t know how he did it. Barely slept. Barely ate. But nothing seemed to help. Michael couldn’t keep anything down. Jason kept dribbling water and broth—anything he could. But he just…faded.” Dillon’s voice was rough as he stepped over to the mantel, resting a hand against it. “Jason washed him once last time and put him in the coffin himself.”

“I didn’t realize—” Elizabeth fisted her hand in her lap. “He’s spoken a time or two of his nephew, but I don’t think I realized that Michael was more like his own son.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I didn’t think about it much until Grandmother sent me out here with the cradle. Jason sent me back almost immediately. Michael was the last baby to use it. Probably can’t stand to look at it.”

“No, I don’t imagine he can.” She rose. “You’ll want something warm to eat before you head back, and so will Dr. Drake.”

—

Upstairs, Alice hovered in the doorway, worried to come any closer as Patrick leaned over Cameron, laying flat on his back, his skin still hot.

“Fever dropped a bit,” Jason said, lacing both his hands at the back of his neck. “After a snow bath. We gave him honey syrup with ginger for the throat. It worked for a while, but it’s wearing off.”

“Won’t hurt to repeat that every few hours, but best I can tell, Jase, you’re doing all you can here.” Patrick straightened, went to the wash stand where a pitcher of water awaited. It had been set out the night before so that Cameron could wash when he woke in the morning. Now, Patrick used to wash his hands, face, neck.

“All I can.” Jason flicked his eyes back to his son, restlessly turning back and forth, unable to become comfortable. “But it might not be enough.”

“We never know, do we?” Patrick murmured. “Maybe the day will come when we do. But until then—you keep up with the usual. Wash with soap every time you leave the room. Have your housekeeper do the same—” At Jason’s confused glance, he continued, “Read a new article from a journal in San Francisco. Dr. Lister’s germ theory. Anyhow, you want to make sure your wife doesn’t fall ill. She won’t have the same reserves to throw it off, and unborn babies don’t do well with fevers.”

“I’ve told the others I’ll handle it.” Jason followed Patrick to the hall. “But that’s it. Nothing else we can do?”

“It’s the grippe, Jason. There’s no cure. We treat the symptoms. Keep his fever down, make he rests. Eats, drinks. Ease the pain in the throat to make that easier.” Patrick pressed his lips together. “When this storm passes and the roads are safe, I’ll come back out this way.”

“Thank you.”

“Soap and water,” Patrick tossed over his shoulder as he headed to the stairwell. Jason grimaced and went back to Cameron’s room. He peered out the window. The storm was still another hour or so away—they’d need to do another snow bath quickly or else it would be too dangerous to leave the house.

“Papa…”

The slurred words drew Jason’s attention, and he all but leapt to the bedside, kneeling down so that his face was only inches from his son’s. Cameron’s eyes didn’t open, his cheeks and neck flush with fever.

“Hey, kid.” Jason touched his forehead. “What do you need?”

“Mama. Mama.”

Jason squeezed his eyes closed. Cameron needed his mother, of course he did. Until the last year, she’d been the anchor in his life. He dared not to risk her, but—

“Don’t be angry.”

He whipped his head around and saw Elizabeth at the doorway. He rose. “Elizabeth—”

“Dr. Drake told me about the soap and the water. And he said—” Her eyes were round and wide, hopeful. “I couldn’t—for longer than a moment. But, oh, please, just for a moment.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Jason exhaled in a rush. He went over to lead her to the wash stand — best if hands were clean going in, and then cleaned again, right? That made sense.

“Mama—”

“Hello, my darling boy.” Elizabeth perched on the edge of his bed, and Cameron smiled. “Is Papa taking good care of you?”

“Bestest…” Cameron forced his eyes open. “Hurts. Everywhere.”

“I know, I know—” A tear slid down her cheek, but she made herself smile. “But you’ll listen to all that Papa says, and you’ll be feeling fit in no time.”

“Okay, Mama. Good boy.”

“You are a good boy. The absolute best.” She touched his cheek, then rushed out of the room, her heels clicking hard against the floor. Jason followed, finding her across the hall in her room, washing her hands fervently.

Wordlessly, he joined her there and washed his own hands. Then he drew Elizabeth into his arms the way he’d wanted to earlier, praying Patrick was correct. That the illness was less likely to spread.

“I’ll do whatever I have to make him well again,” Jason found himself promising, though it was a foolish offer to make, and he felt her body jerk in response. “Elizabeth—”

“That is not your promise to keep,” she murmured. She drew back, her eyes searching his. “But I know that you’ll do what you can, and we will pray it is enough. He was a strong, sturdy boy. That can matter sometimes.”

“Sometimes.”

“And sometimes it doesn’t matter how healthy the child or how well-loved he is. How devoted his guardians are—” Elizabeth touched his jaw, the tips of her fingers brushing across his lips. “Sometimes the world is cruel for no reason at all. Whatever happens, I know that you will have done all you could.”

He kissed her fingertips, then drew back. “I need to get back to him.”

“And I need to be sure Dr. Drake and Dillon start back to town and that we are well-supplied. That storm looks worse than the last.”

Jason walked her to the stairwell, gave orders for a snow bath in a quarter of an hour, then returned to Cameron’s bedside. He picked up the book on the table, found their place, and continued to read. “‘His spirit inspired me with great respect…'”

—

Elizabeth watched Patrick and Dillon ride off under the gate, then made sure with Alice that they had all they needed—and checked their supply of soap.

“Imagine a thing such as soap keeping a man from being ill,” Alice murmured, staring at the chunk Elizabeth placed next to the washstand in the kitchen. “Makes sense, I suppose, don’t you think, missus?”

“It can make a man smell sweet which is no easy feat.” Elizabeth washed her hands again, the third time since she’d left Jason upstairs. It had been worth the risk for the moment with her son, to hold Jason in her arms. “And we’ll follow the doctor’s orders.”

“That we will, missus. And that includes making sure you have your meal.” Alice set down a plate at the kitchen table. “You eat up while I take these pails snow upstairs.”

—

Cameron’s fever raged on for five full days and four nights as a blizzard pelted the house with snow for three of those days. Johnny kept them well-stocked with logs for the fireplaces, and he himself hunkered down in one of the guest chambers to be ready if Jason needed anything.

Elizabeth tried very hard not to go into the sick room again, but she hovered in the doorway from time to time. Jason developed a routine quite quickly — medicine and a snow bath every four hours. Alice kept a pot of broth simmering on the stove, ready whenever Cameron seemed able to keep down his food.

Cameron coughed and wheezed, rarely able to do much more than lay in bed or in Jason’s arms while Alice changed his sheets, sometimes more than twice a day. Alice looked for any small chore she might be able to accomplish towards Cameron’s recovery.

Elizabeth scarcely slept through any of it, pacing the floors of the parlor and her own bedroom, worried sick for her entire family. What would she do if she lost her little boy? Would Jason ever forgive himself? And would she able to keep her own promise if the worst happen? Would she be able to believe that they’d done all they could?

But finally, finally on the six day, Elizabeth woke in the early morning hours, the sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window — the first truly sunny days in more than a week, which meant the clouds had gone.

Elizabeth got to her feet, slid her feet into slippers, and drew on her dressing gown. She stopped to wash her hands, then went across the hall.

Jason sat in the big chair by the window, his head lolling to one side, his arms wrapped protectively around Cameron, curled up in his lap, a counterpane wrapped around the little boy. It was the first time she’d seen Jason asleep at all, and it was a—

Her thoughts stumbled to a stop as she looked more closely at the pair, and gasped. She went into the room, pressed a hand to Cameron’s forehead.  Tears gathered and she sank to her knees, a sob rising in her throat.

At the sound, Jason jerked awake, his arms tightening around Cameron. “What—” He stared at Elizabeth, at the tears. “Elizabeth? You shouldn’t—”

“His fever—” Elizabeth could barely say the words. “Oh, his fever. It’s broken, Jason.” The tears slid down her cheek—tears of relief, of victory. He stared at her for another moment, before looking at their son, at the damp sweat on his cheeks, his neck— Jason sat up, his eyes bloodshot.

“His fever is gone—” Jason closed his eyes, pulled Cameron against him, and rocked gently, the little boy stirring slightly. “You’re all right. You’re all right,” he repeated. He kissed Cameron’s damp forehead, a tear sliding his cheek. “You made it.”

+17

Written in 60 minutes.

Elizabeth knew that she ought to simply accept Jason at his word and allow his reassurances to soothe any lingering doubts, but it proved to be more difficult in the days that followed the assembly.  She told herself that Jason had never been anything other than honest, but she also knew he was kind and could find ways to shade a truth and cloak it with that decency.

Perhaps it was the child she carried that had caused these worries to resurface after months of lying dominant. And the cold, bitter winter that set in during early January, she thought, hardly helped. There had been a brief respite from the heavy snowfall when she and Jason had taken Cameron into town for a winter fair, and he’d begun teaching Cameron how to ice skate.

But then another storm hit shortly after that confined Elizabeth and Cameron to the house, only Jason braving the outside to tend to the horses and other animals out in the stables and barn — most of the ranch hands had left for the season, heading south for warmer weather as they did every year.

“How are you feeling today, Miss Elizabeth?” Alice asked cheerfully, setting down a breakfast plate. “Have you felt the new baby kick?”

“Flutters—” Elizabeth pressed a hand to her belly, the curve just beginning to deepen. “It was a few more weeks with Cameron.” It had been such a blessing to feel that movement, even when it had been painful and uncomfortable—it had reminded Elizabeth in the dark days after she’d left home and struck out on her own—that she wouldn’t be alone forever.

Alice drew her brows together. “Speaking of our young master, he’s not come down yet.” She smiled again, touching Elizabeth’s shoulder. “You stay and eat, miss. I’ll fetch him. Likely, he’s been distracted by that puppy.”

“All right. Thank you.” Elizabeth was grateful — she tired easily and the thought of taking those stairs again so soon was too much. She picked up her fork and began to eat.

Jason shoved another log onto the fire in the parlor, grimacing out the front window. He could see the dark storm clouds on the horizon and hoped it wouldn’t bring as much snow as the last one. Otherwise, they’d be trapped out on the ranch for weeks.

“Mister Jason.”

He turned to find Alice in the doorway, her hands clutched in front of her. “Alice? Is something wrong?” Her face was pale, her mouth pinched. His breath caught. “Elizabeth?”

“No, no, the missus is eating in the dining room. I don’t wish to alarm her in her condition—I went to check on little Cameron, and oh, he’s running a fever.”

A fever. Jason swallowed hard. It could be nothing. Children ran fevers. There were small colds and sniffles. But Alice had raised a son. Had looked after Michael and Emily. She knew when to worry. “Be sure Elizabeth stays down here,” he told her. “I’ll check on him.”

He forced himself to take the stairs slowly—the sound of his heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs would only carry and the very last thing he wanted was to worry Elizabeth before there was a good reason.

The little dog, Pip, was whining when Jason pushed open the door, circling and likely needing to be taken out side. The room was darkened — the sunlight was too weak to carry much light.

And Cameron lay on his back in the bed, the bedclothes kicked off. His blond hair was damp against his forehead. Jason gently perched on the edge, his pulse skittering as he drew closer—he could feel the heat from the little boy’s body even before Jason could touch him.

Jason brushed his hand against Cameron’s cheek. “Cam?” he murmured, still hoping it was nothing more than a simply illness. “Cam? Can you open your eyes?”

His eyelids fluttered but didn’t fully open, nothing more than a sliver of blue. “Papa.” The words were hoarse, pained. “Hurt.”

“Where?” Jason murmured, checking over his small body, praying he’d find no evidence of rashes. It could be so many things—

“Head. Feet. All over.” Cameron rolled over and curled his body into a fetal position. “Hurts.”

“Okay. Okay.” Jason smoothed his sweaty hair back off his forehead, then jerked back as Cameron began to cough violently, his small body wracked with tremors. It wasn’t a dry cough—

He exhaled slowly. The grippe. Fevers. Coughs. He’d had it as a child and survived, but he’d known several other children in town that had been killed by the high fevers. The body could only handle so much heat—and it was contagious. Highly contagious.

“All right.” Jason drew the covers back over Cameron. “Stay here. Rest. I’ll bring you something to help.”

“Tired.”

“I know. Close your eyes. I’ll be back.”

Jason left the door open a crack and carried Pip downstairs. “Alice,” he said, finding the housekeeper hovering at the bottom. “I need you to take care of the dog, and then I need—” His mind raced. “It’s the grippe,” he told her.

Alice’s breath rushed out. “Oh, oh. Oh, dear. I have some honey syrup, and, oh, I stocked up on ginger when I was last in town. And I’ll get Johnny to get a snow bath ready.”

“Good. Good. I need to tell Elizabeth. And Alice—” He stopped her as she headed for the back of the house. “It’ll just be me looking after him. I won’t risk Elizabeth falling ill, and you need to take care of her.”

“You can depend on me, Mister Jason.” Alice always did better with a mission, and with her shoulders squared, she continued back towards the kitchen.

Jason went the opposite way, finding his way to the dining room where Elizabeth was finishing her breakfast. She had a teacup in her hand and a smile on her face when she saw him on the doorway. “Oh. Good morning. I slept so late—” The smile faded when he remained where he stood. “Jason?”

“Cameron has the grippe,” he said, and she was on her feet in a flash. “No,” he said, holding out a hand. “Don’t come any closer. I’ve already been in with him, and this can spread fast.”

“He’s my son—”

“And he’s mine, too,” Jason said. “I’ll see to him. We can’t risk you—”

“But—” Her eyes filled even as her hands rested protectively over the child she carried. “Jason, you could fall ill—”

“I know it. But I’m an adult, and I know how to take care of myself. Cameron’s still young. He’ll fight the snow baths and some of the medicine. If you weren’t—”

“If it were just me.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. Nodded. “Of course. Of course. You’re quite right.”

“I better head back upstairs.” He hovered another moment, hating that he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t hold her and offer more hope. He wouldn’t, of course, promise that Cameron would come through this. The odds were in their favor, but Jason knew better than most how fragile life was.

Particularly slight little boys like Cameron.

“I’ll take care of him,” Jason said, instead, holding her gaze.

“I know you will.”

Jason turned and went upstairs to await Alice.

He was right. Cameron fought like a wild man when Jason lowered him into the bathtub filled with snow. “No! No! Burns!”

“I know,” Jason said, wincing. The tiny fists that flew at him barely made an impact, but the tears and sobs of the miserable child did. But Cameron was burning up and he had to cool down his  body.

Alice hovered near the door, the container of honey syrup and a glass in her hand. After a few minutes holding Cameron down in the bath, Jason lifted him out, quickly wrapping him on a long dry cloth.

“Hurts,” Cameron sobbed, but he’d lost much his energy in the earlier fight and just slumped against his stepfather. “Papa.”

“I’ve got you,” Jason murmured, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, cuddling Cameron in his arms, keeping him as far away as possible as Alice and Johnny removed the bath. When they were gone, Jason gave Cameron the syrup, unsure whether to be relieved or worried when Cameron didn’t fight on the medicine, only let the spoon between his lips with a grimace at the strange taste.

He dressed Cameron in a fresh, wool nightshirt, then kept him in his arms, sitting back in the chair as the exhausting and trembling boy curled back into his embrace. The fever still burned, but not quite as high, Jason thought.

“Johnny’s riding to town for Doc Drake,” Alice said from the doorway.

Jason frowned at her. “But the storm—”

“Still aways off, and the snow is packed hard enough. We need a few supplies, and you’ll want your family to know—not Miss Lila,” Alice added. “But Mister Dillon. In case—in case.”

If the worst happened, Jason wouldn’t have to leave Elizabeth to inform his grandmother. He nodded grimly, tightening his hold around Cameron as if that alone could protect him.

“And I’ll see to the missus. She’s already fretting something fierce,” Alice added, “but I know she feel better knowing you’ve got in all in hand.”

Alice disappeared down the hall, and Jason exhaled slowly. He certainly hoped that was true. He readjusted Cameron and reached for the book on the table beside him. “‘At the appointed time I returned to Miss Havisham’s'”, Jason read,  “‘and my hesitating ring at the gate brought out Estella….”

Elizabeth was pacing the length of the parlor, unable to consider the basket of mending at her side. Her little boy, the center of her world, was ill, and she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t look after him—

She knew Jason had made the right choice—that she had more than just Cameron to think of, but, oh, it felt as though she were choosing between her children—and what if—

“Now here, missus—” Alice bustled in, a tea tray in her hands. “You need to rest. Keep off your feet. Mister Jason will do better if I can bring him good news of you—”

“How is Cameron?” Elizabeth asked, allowing Alice to settle her back in the chair. Then the housekeeper poured tea. “I heard—”

“He didn’t enjoy his snow bath, but he already looks better,” Alice said, patting Elizabeth’s hand. “Mister Jason knows all about caring for little ones. He saw to little Michael all on his own, you know.”

“No, I—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I didn’t realize that.” And cholera was a nasty illness—it would have been dreadful to watch a small boy waste away like that. “How awful.”

“Wouldn’t hear of anyone else. We were so thankful at first,” Alice said, “for the little master had been tucked away in the nursery and we thought he’d been spared. He and Miss Emily. Such a sweet girl. You have the care of her Ruby, you know.”

“Jason said as much. And I know Cameron’s pony was meant for Michael.”

“We’d already lost Mister Alan and his son. Mister Edward hung on for as long as he could, worried over his Lila.” Alice’s voice had roughened. “And my boy. My Ryan. We lost him within a few days.”

“Alice, I’m so sorry—”

“But little Michael—” Alice pressed a hand to her chest. “Well, that felt too much, you see. As if perhaps we’d been forsaken by a vengeful God. I know that might be blasphemous, but he was just a baby. Only just beginning to speak and be his own person—” She cleared her throat. “But Mister Jason took care of him from beginning to end. You shouldn’t worry about that.”

“I don’t.” And she realized that was true. She knew her son would receive the best care—that Jason loved Cameron as his own. “But it won’t stop me from worrying at all.”

“No, of course not. That’s a mother’s lot in life. But we’ll do our best, missus, and pray for mercy.”

+14

Written in 57 minutes. Final scene took a bit more time.

Time seemed to be flying faster than ever as the days marched towards the end of the year, and the first snowfall of the year threatened the Port Charles annual Christmas assembly. Elizabeth had paced in front of their parlor window, praying that the weather would not keep them out at the ranch. She’d helped plan the harvest festival in September, but that had been at Lila’s side. This assembly had been the first event in which Lila had handed over the full reins, and it would do much to establish Elizabeth as a capable hostess, worthy of taking up the reins of the Morgan family legacy.

Jason had listened as Elizabeth explained the stakes of this evening but with a slightly quizzical expression that suggested he either did not understood or accept that she simply had to be in attendance or it would be more difficult for Elizabeth to make a place for herself in Port Charles. To his way of thinking, he’d married her and his family accepted her just fine. Everyone should just get in line.

But he hadn’t said it out loud, and she’d appreciated it. He was always so kind to her, always so considerate. He really had been the perfect husband and father, and while he might understand right now, he would if the assembly was a disaster. He had never lived without the approval of the world he lived in. He was a man, and it was so much harder for them to fall from grace.

For a woman, it was if they were born at the bottom and had to climb their way to the top, to earn their way into positions men were granted from birth.

The weather cleared and the snow was packed hard enough to travel upon. Cameron was overjoyed at the chance to bring his sweet greyhound puppy, Pip, to spend the evening with his great-grandmother, being spoiled rotten, as his parents attended the assembly.

Jason hoisted Cameron into the winter sleigh, and cautioned him to hold the dog tightly. Then, instead of holding out his arm to help Elizabeth down the porch stairs and over the icy front walk, Jason lifted her. “Oh, this is—I can still walk—” Her cheeks flushed, Elizabeth gripped his shoulder. “I’ve walked on ice before—”

“I wasn’t there to carry you,” Jason said, and she sighed. His overprotective nature could be quite bothersome at times, but it also warmed her soul. She worried, still, that she was little more than the convenient wife foisted on him by his impulsive cousin and lonely grandmother. It had been months, really, since she’d been plagued with those thoughts, but every so often, they returned. She always chased them back by reminding herself that kindness and good upbringing only went so far. Jason could have done nothing beyond marrying her and providing a home.

“We’ll see how you feel about that when I’ve grown as large as the porch,” she muttered, and he just laughed at her, settling her in the sleigh. Before long, he cracked the reins and they were off to town.

—

Several hours later, Elizabeth felt quite pleased with herself as she watched dancers swirl around the wooden floors of the town hall, enjoying the beat of the informal orchestra gathered for the evening. On the fringes of the dance floor, couples and groups milled about. The weather had cleared enough for many of the area’s ranchers to come in for the evenings with their families.

“Here—” Jason appeared at her side, handing her a cup of the punch he’d gone to fetch. “This is, uh, good, right?” He swept his eyes over the crowd. “It’s what you wanted?”

“Yes.” She beamed with pride. “It’s precisely what I wanted, and how your grandmother told me it should be. I was so nervous when she said she would step back, but—oh, your friend Sonny is gesturing at you.” Elizabeth touched his sleeve. “You should go—”

Jason made a face. He hadn’t left her side all night—that overprotective nature again— “I can see Sonny any time—”

“Yes, but you don’t.” And the neighboring rancher hadn’t exactly warmed up much to Elizabeth, she thought. Well, this would be a good opportunity to change that. “Please. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated, then nodded and squeezed her hand before heading over to Sonny. Elizabeth decided to make a loop around the room to be sure everyone was having a wonderful time.

Halfway around, she came across Robin Scorpio stepping off the dance floor. “Elizabeth!” Robin said. She turned to her dance partner. “Uncle Mac, go find Aunt Felicia.” Her uncle melted into the crowd.

“I was hoping to see you tonight,” Elizabeth said, linking her arm in Robin’s. “I wanted to thank you for all your help tonight—”

“Of course. You’ve done a wonderful job—” Robin paused as a pair of women crossed their path. Her warm brown eyes darkened. “Britt.”

“Doctor,” Britta Westbourne said with a a false smile. “It’s nice to see you out of your office. I wasn’t sure you knew how to dress up for a party anymore.”

“It is nice to see you, Robin,” the blonde next to Brita offered, and Elizabeth dimly remembered that Robin was connected to Maxie Jones in some way. “Mrs. Morgan.”

“Yes, Mrs. Morgan, good evening.” Britt flicked her cold stare to Elizabeth, the expression at odds with the smile on her face. “You always seem to pop up out of nowhere, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry?” Elizabeth said, lifting her brows.

“Well, of course, not quite out of nowhere. After all, you’re an old family friend, aren’t you?” Britt tipped her head. “You’ve known them forever.”

“My grandparents were old friends with Lila, yes,” Elizabeth said coolly. “How fortunate for me to be able to continue the connection.”

“And how fortunate for your son.”

Elizabeth’s face remained blank. “Excuse me?”

“Britta just means that it’s nice that you were able to get married again,” Maxie said in a rush. “And that your son shares a superficial resemblance to Jason. He won’t feel left out.”

“Yes, I’m sure Britt is, as always, concerned with the well-being of others,” Robin said. “If you’ll excuse us—”

“How odd that Jason never mentioned an arrangement with a widow from back East,” Britt said as Robin attempt to pull Elizabeth away from the two women. “He certainly never indicated to me that there was another claim on his affections.”

Another claim—Elizabeth drew her brows together. “I’m sorry?”

“I just find it unusual that Jason never spoke of a betrothal to anyone else. He certainly had ample to time to inform interested parties.”

“I want to introduce you to my parents,” Robin said, gently tugging on Elizabeth’s arm. “Come on.”

Bewildered, Elizabeth allowed herself to be drawn away from the women and in the opposite direction. Another claim? Interested parties? Did she mean—

“Pay zero attention to Britt Westbourne,” Robin murmured. “I had more of claim on Jason’s affections, and that was ages ago—”

“He might not have said anything to anyone—” It was as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her. Perhaps Jason had been interested in the other woman—maybe it had been new and unknown to his cousin, too soon for him to think of marriage, but it might have blossomed if Elizabeth hadn’t been dropped on his doorstep—

Somehow, Elizabeth made it through the rest of the evening, pasting a smile on her face as Robin introduced her parents, Robert and Anna Scorpio. Then Jason came over to claim her for a dance, and she must have done an admirable job of keeping her emotions masked for Jason didn’t ask any questions.

As the evening wound down, Jason convinced Elizabeth it would be all right to leave and return to Lila’s home where they’d spend the night. She was relieved to get out of the room, eager to get away from the worries and suspicions that somehow she’d derailed the trajectory of Jason’s life, upending the plans he had made for himself. All those old worries and insecurities had returned in a rush, swamping her.

“You shouldn’t worry,” Jason said that night as she sat at the dressing table Lila had moved into Jason’s childhood bedroom. “Everyone was having a good time.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth murmured, drawing out the pins from her hair. One by one, the metal clinked into a small dish, and the heavy, curling mass dropped down. She reached for a hairbrush. She wouldn’t ask. It was none of her business, after all. Jason had made vows in front of God and his family, and he was an honorable man. She had no right to ask or demand more than he’d offered.

But, oh, how it hurt to wonder if he’d been on the edge of falling in love with someone else, and that her presence had ruined everything. If it had just been her, maybe Jason would have sent her own her way, returning her to the dredges of Port Hamilton or maybe sending her on to San Francisco.

Instead, she’d had a little boy whose story had captured his sympathy, and Jason had a lot of love to give children. Everyone spoke so wonderfully of his relationship with his nephew. So he’d married her instead of sending her away.

It would do no good to dwell on what might lay in Jason’s heart, she argued with herself. It could only hurt—

“Did you have some sort of understanding with Britta Westbourne?”

The question fell from her mouth before she knew that she would ask it, and her cheeks flamed as she caught sight of Jason the mirror, standing at the bed with his eyes wide.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Elizabeth rose and dragged a shawl around her shoulders, the winter chill seeping into her skin, despite the fire he’d laid and the thick wool gown she wore. “Just a silly—nothing.”

“It’s clearly not—”

“I should get some rest. It was a long day—” She drew back the counterpane, but Jason tugged it towards his side. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“You’re my wife,” Jason told her.

“Yes.” Her shoulders slumped, but Elizabeth forced a smile. She’d received her answer. “Yes, and I count myself fortunate—”

Jason gritted his teeth and rounded the bed. “That’s not what I—of course it’s your business, and no. The answer is no—”

“I shouldn’t have asked—”

Jason caught her hands in his, and waited, but she would not look at him. That would only make all of this worse. “I did not have an understanding with her,” he repeated. “When my grandmother asked me to consider marrying, when I gave her a promise, yes, Britt was someone that I looked at. Someone I considered—”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. I understand—”

“You don’t.” Jason exhaled, drew her into his arms, but she couldn’t allow herself to relax. Couldn’t find comfort in his embrace. “I don’t know if I ever intended to keep my promise to my grandmother. If Dillon hadn’t brought you here, I’d likely still be just where I was a year ago.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations,” Elizabeth insisted. “I just—”

“When I realized I couldn’t see a future with Britt, she was angry, and I don’t think she ever forgave me. I didn’t care, to be honest,” he told her. “I had never made her any promises, and we’d only gone out walking a few times. I escorted her to a few assemblies. But I didn’t want anything else. And I couldn’t do it just for my grandmother. I’m sorry if she said anything to suggest differently.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “So there was no one—” She hesitated. “When I arrived, there was no one you had to disappoint?”

“Just Dillon,” Jason said and she smiled at that. “And we really should think about revenge. He’s been walking around too smugly all these months. I told you that first day — I went to that hotel room to explain the misunderstanding and to promise anything you needed for a fresh start somewhere else.” He brought her knuckles to his mouth. “And then you gave me my walking papers. I knew that I had to take a second, closer look.”

Some of the doubt and worry dissipated, and now her smile was more genuine. “And it was worth it then? That second look?”

“Best decision of my life.”

+20

Written in 58 minutes.

The local assembly hall was richly decorated and adorned for the holiday season, with strands of garland and holly hanging generously from every available surface. Elizabeth wandered over to the tables where the refreshments would be held and ignored the looks and whispers from some of the local women, particularly nosy Amy Vining and Britta Westbourne.

“You shouldn’t pay any attention to them.” Elizabeth turned at the new voice, recognizing Robin Scorpio, the pretty dark-haired woman she’d seen at other meetings. “Britt’s never forgiven you for swooping in and marrying Jason out from under her nose. And Amy’s just a gossip.”

“I don’t worry about any of them,” Elizabeth said, shrugging, though she was grateful every day that she’d hid her scandalous past. No one had ever questioned her life as a widow, and she thought most people would forget that Jason wasn’t Cameron’s biological father. After all, her little boy had Jason’s coloring—

Oh, maybe there would be other whispers, Elizabeth realized with a sinking thought. After all, Lila had put out that she was a connection from back home. What if they thought Jason had come East—

“They’ll have something new to talk about eventually,” Robin said, sliding her arm through Elizabeth’s and walking her over to the stage where a small group of townsfolk would play instruments during the Christmas party. “And you don’t know this, but I’m driving them insane by talking to you at all.”

“What?” Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, it’s all ancient history, but Jason and I had a little bit of a romance a lifetime ago.” Robin’s smile was genuine as she continued. “We were still at school, and then I wanted to go to San Francisco — I wanted to become a doctor.”

“You—oh. You work with Dr. Drake—”

“I do. I dragged him back from San Francisco. We practice together,” Robin continued, “but I’m sure many of the old  biddies thought Jason was pining away for me. He wasn’t,” she said quickly. “I just didn’t want you to hear any of the gossip and wonder. Jason never really thought about marriage at all. And that was never in our plans.”

“No one has said anything—”

“Not to your face,” Robin said cheerfully. “But you can be sure they have behind your back. Don’t listen to any of them.”

“I don’t plan to.”

“Good. Patrick told me your news, I hope that’s all right. I was so happy to see Jason settling down. He was so good with his nephew, he’s told you that, hasn’t he?”

“A few times.”

“A tragedy,” Robin murmured, her eyes growing distant. “It’s why I came home for good. I was just visiting when the epidemic broke out. I worked for days trying to save as many as  I could, but we lost so many. And Jason’s family was nearly wiped out. I don’t know how Lila got out of bed after losing her husband, both children, and all but three of her grandchildren. Ned lives in San Francisco.” She took a deep breath. “But you and your son, I know that’s brought them all such joy. And this new child. If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate.” Robin squeezed Elizabeth’s hand and then left her.

Robin’s words were still echoing in Elizabeth’s head a few hours later as she left the assembly hall and walked the short distance to Lila’s grand house to retrieve Cameron. She wasn’t bothered by Robin’s recounting of a youthful romance — Elizabeth hadn’t come to her husband as an untouched saint, and Elizabeth could hardly begrudge him the same.

It was the reminder of how much grief Jason had suffered in the previous years, and wondering if it had anything to do with the strange way he’d been acting since they’d learned of her condition. He was overprotective on the ranch, not letting her near the horses when he’d previously not blinked at her help. And then there had been that dinner—

“Hello, dear,” Lila said as Elizabeth came into the parlor. She removed her reading glasses. “How does the assembly hall look?”

“Like it’s been drowned in garland and holly,” Elizabeth said, taking a seat next to the older woman. “Things are nearly ready for the end of the week.”

“I’m so glad you and Jason have decided to come and stay the night in town. You’ll enjoy yourselves so much more.” Lila set aside the newspaper she’d been reading. “I wanted to apologize for overstepping when you were here last. And for sending Dillon out to the ranch.”

“I—” Elizabeth paused. “When did Dillon come to the ranch?”

“Oh, a few days ago. I know Jason said he wouldn’t need and any of the toys or furniture we’d saved, but I didn’t think that would extend to the cradle. It’s been in our family since Alan was born,” Lila said. “Alan and Tracy both used it, and then all three of Alan’s children. It was meant for the eldest son—” A pinched, pain expression fluttered over her face. “And, well, that would be Jason now.”

“I didn’t—he didn’t—” Elizabeth exhaled. “He sent it back, didn’t he?”

“He did. Dillon said he was quite irritated over the matter. I really hope you’ll both accept my apology.”

“Of course. You meant well. I’ll speak to Jason.”

After reassuring Lila once again, Elizabeth retrieved Cameron from the nursery, hitched up the carriage and horses, and made her way home, wondering how she would broach the topic with her husband, if she would at all. It wasn’t her family. Perhaps it wasn’t her place—

Was Jason worried about the implications? That she’d expect Cameron to inherit the cradle as the supposed elder child? While it might explain his reaction in some ways, it did not sit well with her as the reason. Jason had never once suggested he planned to treat Cameron differently from any future children. Rather, he’d accepted from the first, the responsibility to act as Cameron’s father. He’d seemed to find joy in the prospect.

Once at home, Elizabeth turned Cameron over to Alice and hunted down her husband, still not quite settled as to what she might say. She found him in the training yards, putting Dusty through his paces.

The stallion was pleased to see her and immediately pulled away from Jason to shove his head over the fence to sniff at Elizabeth. “Hello, darling,” she murmured, her fingertips brushing against the velvet of his coat. “I miss you, too.”

“How was your meeting?” Jason asked, glancing behind her to watch Johnny unhitch the carriage and lead the horses inside.

“It was fine.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Your grandmother wanted to apologize for sending the cradle.”

Jason’s mouth tightened. “Did she?”

“Yes. I—” She paused. “I suppose she was a bit hurt that you didn’t want to use the cradle that your father used,” Elizabeth said finally. “Is—I don’t—is there something wrong with it?”

“No. I meant what I said before. She ought to keep it there at the house for visits.” Jason tugged the stallion back towards him. “We’ll get one for here. I was going to work on it this winter. Cameron can help.”

“Oh. You—you don’t plan to just purchase a new one?”

“No. I was going to make one. Unless you’d rather—”

“No, I think that would be lovely, and such a wonderful way for Cameron to feel included.” Elizabeth’s spirits brightened. “He won’t have been able to use it, but it’ll be his all the same.”

Jason’s face eased. “That’s what I hoped. He should have his own things. Not hand-me-downs from people he never knew. He deserves that much. He’s the oldest.”

“Of course. And Lila will understand completely when you explain it that way.” Elizabeth stepped back. “I ought to go in and check on Cameron. You’ll be in for supper?”

“I will.”

—

Jason watched Elizabeth carefully pick her way from the stables towards the front of the house. The winter had already descended on the area—their autumn shorter than normal this year, and he thought they’d see snowfall before the Christmas. He would have to make sure she had all the clothing she needed for a cold winter. And that they were ready to clear the paths so she wouldn’t be hurt—

Once Elizabeth was inside, Jason turned his attention back to the horse who also seemed to watching her go. The horse and the woman missed one another, and he felt a spear of shame for forcing her to stop coming to the stables. But if Dusty or another horse kicked at her — or she fell—

At least he’d navigated the tricky situation of the cradle. For the first time in his life, Jason cursed his grandmother. Lila knew what she’d been doing by taking her apology to Elizabeth, and not to Jason. She was interfering—

But he’d handled it, Jason told himself as he walked Dusty back into the stable and put him up for the night. Even better, he’d come up with something better than an old cradle. He’d carve one himself, and he’d teach Cameron, just as Jason had been taught by his own father.  Cameron could put his initials into the wood—

It would be something better. Something that only belonged to them without memories of what came before.

—

When Jason had brought the puppy home for Cameron, he’d expected the little  boy to name the greyhound after the little rag doll puppy — Archie. But Cameron had been horrified. Archie wasn’t going anywhere — that had been his first dog. And anyway, the little greyhound wasn’t an Archie. Anyone could see that. He was something better.

Cameron had insisted on pouring over the primary books his mother was always trying to teach him to read, and then tugging novels and other books from shelves in Jason’s study, asking for words, looking for just the right word to describe the puppy with his long nose and spindly frame.

Finally, only the day before Elizabeth’s conversation with Lila, Cameron had dragged down Great Expectations by Charles Dickens and begged Jason to read it to him. Maybe the dog’s name would be in this book. Jason had obliged, and within the first few pages, they’d had a winner. The dog’s name was Pip. Of course it was, Jason thought. But Cameron hadn’t wanted him to stop reading, and decided that it would be his papa’s job to put him up for bed in evening because they would read first.

So Jason perched on the edge of Cameron’s bed, reading and keeping an eye on his son as Cameron drifted into sleep, Archie the rag puppy clutched in one hand and Pip the greyhound’s snout in the crook of his other arm.

Jason set the novel on the bedside table, turned the lamp down low, and made sure Cameron was warm and tucked in, before going across the hall. Inside their room, Elizabeth had brought in a chair that sat before the fireplace, a basket of mending by her side. She’d struggled with that first, Jason remembered, but she’d taught herself to sew without the tip of her finger.

He across from her, in the chair he’d brought because it seemed like a cozy and private way to end each day, just of the two of them. Elizabeth smiled at him, the flames of the fire flickering over her face. She’d seemed sad after that dinner with Lila, and there’d been shadows in her face earlier during the conversation at the stables.

But he’d reassured her, and now she was happy again. “I never thought Cameron would fall in love with Dickens,” she said, pulling out one of Cameron’s shirts and searching her bag for a button that would match. “But he was excited for you to keep reading tonight.”

“He made it through an entire chapter,” Jason said, toeing off his boots and setting his hands before the fire. “We’ll see how how he feels after a few more nights of it.”

“And he loves that dog. Thank you for remembering it. He’s wanted one for so long.” Elizabeth met his gaze. “You’ve always been so wonderful with him. From the beginning.”

“He made it easy.” And so had she, Jason thought. Both of them had just trusted Jason from nearly the first moment. It ought to have been harder to create a life together from nothing — she’d been the bride his cousin had found for him after all — but sitting here, it was as if they’d always been traveling down the road towards one another.

“I was thinking you might want to start training with Dusty again.”

Her fingers stilled, and she blinked. “But you said—”

“As long as I’m there,” Jason added in a rush. “For now. I—he misses you. And, well, so do I. We were doing good work out there together. It’ll be a few more weeks before winter really sets in and we won’t be able to train as much—” His words were cut off as Elizabeth flew out of the chair and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Startled, Jason laughed, then drew her into his lap. “I suppose that’s a yes?”

“It’s absolutely a yes. I know you’re worried, and I promise I’ll be very, very careful.” Elizabeth beamed. “You won’t have to worry. The baby comes first.”

“I know.” He kissed her, savoring and lingering. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was until that day in the train station, when he’d walked in and saw her sitting there. Waiting. He would do anything to protect their life together.

+19

Written in 58 minutes.

After learning of Elizabeth’s condition, she reluctantly agreed to step back from some of the new duties she’d assumed in the stables. She personally thought that she could have continued on with little alteration to her activities, but Jason had seemed so worried for her safety that she’d agreed with little argument. And he’d asked her for so little since their marriage had begun, it seemed churlish not to agree.

“Just until you’ve safely delivered,” Jason told her. He tightened his arm around her, the sounds of rain pattering gently against the windowpane. “For my sake,” he added. “I still have a few months left on my term, and I can’t be here every day.”

“I’ve already agreed,” Elizabeth murmured, her eyes closed and her mind drifting towards sleep. “You mustn’t worry so.”

“I won’t.” He would, of course, but he would do a better job hiding it from her, Jason decided as her breathing deepened and the weight of her body tucked against his shifted, indicating she’d fallen sleep. She’d done this once before, and all on her own—though he disliked thinking of her alone with Cameron back East. How had she managed? Had there been anyone to turn to? Had the birth been easy?

It might not be within his power to guarantee that both his wife and their child would be safe and healthy, but surely there were ways to encourage that ending—actions Jason could take.

It was difficult to follow her into sleep, nearly impossible to stop his mind from imagining all the disasters that could occur if he wasn’t there to pay attention. His father had managed this three times, his grandfather twice, and hadn’t Jason’s brother done it as well?  They’d kept their wives from tragedy—

But they weren’t there to ask, and none of Jason’s other acquaintances were fathers. He was on his own.

—

Elizabeth had suggested they wait a few more weeks before telling his family — it was Lila’s fondest wish for more grandchildren—she wanted to be absolutely sure. And she fretted over Cameron’s reaction. He was a secure little boy, who had taken to life on the ranch and as Jason’s son so easily, one could scarcely remember it had only been a handful of months since they’d met.

But finally, as the stubborn summer finally relented and the days turned towards autumn, Elizabeth and Jason took Cameron into town for their weekly dinner with Lila and Dillon, prepared to share their good news.

Cameron raced into the house, eager only to see his grandmother, but for the treats she ensured were on hand for the little boy. By the time Jason and Elizabeth entered the parlor, Cameron was already sitting at Lila’s side, a piece of a sugar candy in his hands.

“My darlings.” Lila rose and embraced them both, lingering with a hug for Elizabeth. “I’m so happy to see you both. And of course, my little prince.”

Cameron beamed up at her. “That’s me,” he told his parents smugly. “Prince Cameron.”

Elizabeth laughed and sat on the settee across from Lila and Cameron. “Yes, Prince Cameron who must remember to clean up after his new puppy. And his pony.”

“Puppy!” Lila’s eyes sparkled. “I must hear everything.”

Only too happy to talk about the dog that Jason had brought home a week before, Cameron’s excited words kept them occupied until dinner was served. They talked of life on the ranch, Jason’s last few weeks as sheriff, Dillon’s plans to stay on as a deputy, and plans for Cameron to begin school in the spring.

“I know how to read. Mama taught me,” Cameron told Lila proudly. “But Papa says I have to learn how to do lots more so I can have more horses and race them and make them happy and—”

“And it will be good for you to make friends,” Elizabeth added. “Your own age.”

After dinner, Cameron went up to play in the nursery, and they settled back in the parlor, with tea for the ladies, and ale for Jason and his cousin. When his grandmother had served both she and Elizabeth, Jason sent Elizabeth a glance, and she smiled nervously. Nodded.

“Grandmother, Elizabeth and I have some news to share.” He took her hand in his, felt her trembling fingers in his own. Lila looked hopeful, but said nothing. “In May, we think, you’ll have another grandchild to spoil.”

“Oh, oh! I had hoped!” Lila rose to embrace Elizabeth again. “My sweet girl! A baby!”

“Congratulations.” Dillon’s smile was smug, and Jason knew the little brat was taking some credit for the action. “And thank you. You’ve bought me at least another year of breathing room.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Jason told him. “Grandmother will remember you at some point—”

“Sure. But you keep giving her grandkids—” Dillon shrugged and looked back at their grandmother and Jason’s wife, seated together now as Lila pumped Elizabeth for any and all information. “I’m safe for a while.”

“And you shouldn’t worry about anything,” Lila told Elizabeth, patting her hand. “Now, I know you and Jason wanted Cameron to have things here in town, but we have so much furniture and toys left over from the children we’ve raised. You must look through it—”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, likely to agree, but Jason interrupted. “Grandmother, I’ve told you. We want you to have things here. Elizabeth comes to town often enough, and it will be a relief to have somewhere safe for Cameron and the baby.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, her expression a bit mystified. But then she smiled. “Yes. Of course. You’ve been so kind to Cameron, and he thinks of this house as another home. I want all our children to feel that way.”

“Still—” Lila looked almost mutinous but Jason wasn’t going to change his mind on the subject. He wanted Cameron to have his own things. For his children to have their own memories.

“We should get home,” Jason said, interrupting her again. He set his glass aside. “You need your rest,” he told Elizabeth who would never argue with him in front of his family, and she took a deep breath.

“Yes. I get tired easily,” she said, squeezing Lila’s hands. “Thank you for dinner, and for your excitement. I will see you at the meeting in a few days.”

“Bring Cameron,” Lila said as she walked with them to the door. “I don’t see him nearly as often as I’d like.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth hugged his grandmother, but when Lila turned to Jason, he’d already started up the stairs to fetch Cameron. He didn’t want to chance being left alone with Lila just yet — she would have too many questions.

He didn’t want to answer any of them.

—

The drive back to the ranch was mostly silent, as Jason held the reins and concentrated on the road in front of them. It was just as well, Elizabeth thought. She hardly knew what she would say to him.

Lila had apparently already offered Jason anything he wanted from the nursery prior to tonight, and he’d refused without saying anything. She couldn’t understand his protest — the nursery was filled to the brim with toys, and Elizabeth knew there were more pieces of furniture in the attics. Lila had told her once, with great sorrow, that she’d saved things for her children. For her grandchildren.

Only she’d lost nearly everyone one of them before they could use any of it. She’d had to pin all her hopes and dreams on Jason and Dillon—of course she’d expected Jason to inherit pieces that she’d brought East —

But Jason had refused. Twice. Without broaching the subject with Elizabeth, which meant it was not up for discussion.  Why had Jason refused Cameron access to pieces of his family’s history? And for their own child—

Her hand rested on her abdomen where little evidence of the child could be seen. What reason could there be? Jason had thrown himself into being Cameron’s father after that day in the lake, and he’d never hinted at any unhappiness. Quite the contrary, until he’d rudely refused his grandmother’s offer, Elizabeth had nearly thought herself living in the fairy tales she’d read about as a child.

Had she been fooling herself in thinking there was affection on Jason’s side? She’d wondered at the beginning why a man who had hardly seemed in need of a wife had chosen her, and she’d thought it perhaps was due to his loneliness, for the need of a woman in his bed. But he’d never treated her that way—

She pushed away her worries and fretting. Whatever reason Jason had for refusing Lila’s offer, she would not allow it to affect her marriage. Jason was a kind man, an excellent husband, and a perfect father. There was little reason to invite trouble by asking questions that might bring unhappy answers.

—

Jason was surprised when, after their dinner, Elizabeth said nothing about Lila’s offer. She didn’t press him or demand an explanation. They tucked a sleepy Cameron into bed and retired to their own room, just as they did most nights, and Jason wondered—hoped—Elizabeth had accepted the reasons he’d given his grandmother.

But Lila was not to be so easily defeated, and on the day Elizabeth went to town with Cameron for the committee meeting, Dillon arrived at the ranch, towing a wagon with a sheet-covered lump.

Jason stood at the top of the porch stairs, a grim expression stretched across his face. His cousin hopped over the wheel, his boots hitting the ground. “Give me a hand with this, will you?”

Jason opened his mouth to refuse, but fell silent when Dillon whipped off the sheet to reveal a cradle. A cradle Jason recognized all too well —

It had been ordered from London, the city of his grandmother’s birth, and shipped to New York as soon as Lila had told Edward of their impending first child. Nothing but the best for Edward and his family. The cradle had been carved by one of the city’s finest artists, and both of Lila’s children had used it.

They’d brought it West with them, first to San Francisco where Jason’s father had inherited it as the eldest son. All three of Alan’s children had called the cradle home for their first few months of life. And then, Jason’s brother had married and inherited.

The last baby to be held secure, to be rocked into sleep was Michael.

It belonged to the eldest son. And now it was here, on the ranch, mocking Jason and reminding him that due to the whims of a capricious fate, he was the eldest son. His brother was gone. His nephew. All dead. Because life was fragile. And the people you loved could be lost without warning.

“Take it back,” Jason said, roughly .Stepping back, he met his cousin’s confused eyes. “Take it back,” he repeated sharply. “And tell Grandmother not to send anything else. I don’t want it.”

+16

Written in 62 minutes.

Jason had already tossed the horse’s reins aside when Elizabeth began to sway, but he had taken no more than a step when she collapsed, falling backward straight into the stallion—Dusty had come a long way since the summer but the quick movements started him and he reared—

Putting Elizabeth’s fragile form at the mercy of more than nine hundred pounds of agitated animal—and he’d never make it in time to stop—

But Johnny was already there, grabbing and yanking Dusty’s reins, the horse veering sharply away but still fighting against the Irishman’s. “Whoa—”

Jason raced to Elizabeth, sliding hard against the ground as he dropped next to her, taking her hand and checking for a pulse in her wrist, then he scooped her into his arms and turned towards the fence. “Cameron—”

He only now registered the little boy’s cries, not realizing that Cameron had slid between the posts and was already across the training yard—where Johnny was still calming the agitated Dusty and Jason’s horse was wandering around.

“Damn it—” he swore, jerked his head back. “Cameron, get back—”

“Mama!” His face was red and stained with tears. “Mama!”

“Get back over the fence,” Jason ordered, more harshly than he wanted to, but the fear was pounding in his veins—for the pale, unconscious woman in his arms, and for the small child at the mercy of animals who towered over him— “Now! You know the rules!”

“I got him!” Johnny looped Dusty’s reins over a hitching post, then dashed past Jason to lift Cameron into his arms with ease. “Come on, little guy. Let’s get your mother some help.”

Satisfied, Jason went towards the pasture gate where another stable hand, who had heard the ruckus, was already tugging it open. “Johnny, send for the doctor—” He didn’t bother to check if his order had been heard, just tightened his grip on Elizabeth, his long legs eating up the distance between the training yards at the house.

“Mama!” Cameron sobbed from behind them. “Make her wake up!”

Jason reached the steps at the back of the house, almost relieved to see Alice coming to the open doorway, drawn by Cameron’s cries.

“What on Earth—” She pushed the door open, stepping back hastily as Jason barrelled past her, making for the stairs at the front of the house. “Mister Jason—”

“See to Cameron,” Jason tossed over his shoulder. “Johnny—”

“I got it—” Johnny set Cameron on his feet, then crouched down. “Hey, there. You stay with Alice, and I’ll head to town for a doctor. You’ll see. Everything will be right as rain—”

“I’ll get you some milk and a couple of those cookies,” Alice promised, trading a troubled glance with the stablehand.

“I b-broke the r-rules,” Cameron sobbed. “Papa mad—”

“Papa’s just scared,” Alice assured him. “Go,” she told Johnny. “I’ve got it handled.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Johnny disappeared out the door, and it swung closed with a thud behind him, and Alice went to look after Cameron.

—

Jason laid Elizabeth out on their bed, the blood still pounding in his ears as he went to the water and pitcher on the nearby table. It was the heat, he told himself. He’d get some water into her and shed some of the heavy clothes, and it would be all right—

It would be just fine.

He turned back, a cloth damp with water in his hand, relieved to see Elizabeth’s eyelashes fluttering. She blinked at him, then raised herself up on her elbows. “What—what’s going on—”

“Just rest,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, gently dabbing at her cheeks with the cloth, the streaks of dirt disappearing. “I’ll have someone go fetch ice—” The closest icehouse was just outside of town by the Grand Lake—he knew he should have had one built nearer the ranch—

Elizabeth blinked at him, her eyes still glazed and slightly unfocused. “How did I get inside?”

“I brought you in.” Jason unlaced her boots and tossed them to the floor. “Sit up for a second—” She was still sluggish, her movements delayed, so he able to strip off her shirtwaist and skirt, leaving her clad in nothing but a chemise and a thin petticoat—

Her color was already getting better, Jason decided, helping her to lay back and propping a pillow behind her bed. “I’ve sent for the doctor.”

“So silly, all this fuss. I was out too long,” Elizabeth said, but her eyes drifted closed again. “You’ve warned me about the heat—”

And he hadn’t done anything to remind her, had he? He’d let her work all these weeks under a hot sun as if she’d been born and raised to work a ranch—Jason clenched his jaw. “Not enough,” he muttered, relieved when Alice came in with a fresh bowl of water. “Cameron?” he asked, thinking of their son for the first time since coming upstairs.

“Enjoying some cool milk and cookies. Worried over his mother, so I said I’d come to see.” Alice smiled brightly. “And there you are, missus. Looking much better.”

“I feel silly,” Elizabeth said. She stifled a yawn. “I’ve simply worked a bit too long—”

“Burned the candle at both ends, didn’t you?” Alice said. She handed Jason the new bowl and retrieved the old. “In town planning with Missus Lila, and then out here with the horses, and then reading with Master Cameron in the evening.” She leveled a glare at Jason who scowled. “Seems to me a few days rest is in order.”

“I didn’t mean to worry anyone,” Elizabeth said, sighing. “I’m so sorry—but I won’t need to be in town as much—the harvest festival was quite a success, and the Christmas assembly doesn’t require as much attention—”

“We’ll just wait to see what Doctor Drake says,” Jason said, bringing her a new cloth and dabbing at her neck and collarbone. “Rest—”

“And Cameron—he was outside. He must have been so worried—” Elizabeth grimaced. “And scared. I don’t think he’s ever seen me sick. Will you check on him?”

Jason started to refuse, unwilling to leave her side until he was sure she was going to be all right, but he remembered now he’d yelled at Cameron and how the little boy had cried. “All right. I’ll be right back.”

Cameron was in the kitchen, a cup of milk and a trio of cookies set in front of him, all looking quite untouched. His cheeks were stained with tears and dirt, his eyes puffing from crying.

Jason crouched next to him and Cameron sniffled, more tears sliding down his face. “Hey. Mama’s okay. She’s awake. We’ll have the doctor say for sure, but she’s okay now—”

“You mad at me.” Cameron wiped his nose his sleeve. “I broke rules.”

“Yeah. You did. But I wasn’t mad—” Jason hesitated. “I was angry, and I was scared,” he admitted and Cameron’s gaze focused on him. “There were horses that could have hurt you. You can’t be in the training yard alone. So, yes, you broke a big rule. But I know you were scared, too. So I’m sorry for yelling.”

“I-I’m sorry for breaking the rules.” Cameron hugged him, burrowing his face into Jason’s neck. Jason hugged him tightly, lifting him out of his chair as Jason rose to his feet. “Mama okay?”

“I think. I hope so. Doctor Drake will tell us—” He turned towards the front of the houses when he heard the clatter of hooves. Cameron still in his arms, Jason strode towards the entry way, relieved to see Patrick Drake looping the reins of his horse over the post just below the porch, Johnny just behind him. “You made good time—”

“Caught me on the way back to town,” Patrick said, lifting his black medical bag and coming inside the house. “Johnny said your wife collapsed?”

“I think it was just the heat,” Jason said, setting Cameron on the ground. “She’s upstairs and awake, but—”

“But we’ll see.”

Jason left Cameron with Johnny and Alice, then walked Patrick up the stairs and down to the bedroom where Elizabeth was sitting up. Her cheeks flushed when the doctor came in, and she started to tug the bedclothes in front of her thin chemise. “Patrick, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, Doctor Patrick Drake.”

“Hey there, Missus.” Patrick flashed her one of his famous dimpled grins, then set the medical bag on the dresser. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Elizabeth admitted, flashing a hesitant smile. “I felt a bit tired all day, honestly, and I should have stopped for water. I just get…I forget when I’m working with the horses.”

“Heat can sneak up on you, and it’s been tricky this fall.” Patrick fitted an instrument into his ears, then pressed the end against Elizabeth’s chest. “Heart is a bit rapid, but not too much.” He tilted his head, studying her form. “Are you eating all right? Sleeping? Everything else, uh, regular?”

“Sleeping, yes. Eating, I suppose. More than usual.” Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed. “And regular—” Her mouth closed. “Oh. Oh. Dear. I hadn’t—I lost—I lost track.”

“Happens.” Patrick patted her hand. “You got a bit overheated, and bit overextended. Time to take it easy and rest. I’ll let you fill in the husband.”

“Fill me on what?” Jason demanded as Patrick packed up the bag. “You barely looked at her—”

“And that’s why I’m the doctor and you’re not. Clear to me she’s overheated and overworked. Anything else, not really my place. I’ll send the bill. You come and see me, Missus Elizabeth, when you have a need.”

“Thank you.”

Jason nearly followed Patrick down the hall, intent to demand the damned doctor actually do more than ask a few questions, but then turned back to his wife who had sat up. Jason’s scowl deepened. “You’re supposed to rest.”

“And I will—I just—” Elizabeth slid her legs over the side of the bed and rose. “I don’t want to be lying down for this part.” She held on to one of the posts at the end of the bed. “I feel even more silly. I quite lost track—” She bit her lip, then looked away.

“Your cheeks are red again. I’m going to get that damned doctor—”

Elizabeth caught his elbow as Jason turned away again. “No, they’re—I’m a bit embarassed to have caused all this trouble. It’s not as though I’m a green girl, you see. I ought to have seen the signs. It’s just—it’s quite different this time. And I really did just lose track—” She took the deep breath. “I’ve missed my courses, Jason. And if I recall correctly, it’s been at least two months.”

Jason was stunned into silence as he grappled with the meaning of the statement. For her to have missed two months— “You—there’s a—you—” He took a deep breath. “You’re with child, then. There will be a baby.”

“Yes.” Her lips curved into a hesitant smile, even as her eyes remained sober, searching his. “Sometime in May if my guesses are right. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve certainly been trying.”

Jason raked a hand through his hair, the reality sinking in. A baby. She was carrying his child—their child, he corrected.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to smile. This was good news. Of course it was. Even if his brain was already racing with newfound worries. She’d been working so hard nearly every day she’d been in this condition. Out in the heart or driving herself back and forth to town. And women died in childbirth. Hell, babies died in childbirth—but he’d been silent too long and her smile was fading.

“You should rest,” Jason said, scooping her into his arms and setting back in bed. “You’ve been working too hard, and we need to take care of the baby.” He kissed her forehead. “And you.”

“This is good news, isn’t it?” Elizabeth’s hands rested on his arms, stopping him from stepping back. “We—you said you wanted children. The day we met. You said—”

“I do. I just—it’s it’s good news,” Jason added. “I was—” He sat on the bed, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I think part of me is still stuck back in the paddock, worried that the horse would hurt you. Or that you were sick. I can’t seem to shake loose of it.”

“Well, that’s all right.” She smiled, taking one of his band between both of hers. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? This time next year, a new little life to look after. You’re such a good father, Jason. It’ll be wonderful to do this together, won’t it?”

“Yes. Yes,” Jason repeated, because it would. He leaned forward to kiss her. “It’ll be great, and you’ll be amazing.” He just hoped they’d all survive it.

+21

Written in 63 minutes.

Cameron climbed up the railing of the fence until he could rest his elbows over the top, Jason with a steadying hand on his back until he was sure Cameron had his balance. It was nearly the end of the summer now, the hottest days of August dragging into September when the nights, at least, would begin to cool off.

After three months on the ranch, Cameron had grown an inch and his face had begun to slim down, sliding slowly from baby to child. He’d already changed so much from the small child who had been curled up in his mother’s lap that day in late May. His bright blue eyes were focused on what was happening in the middle of the paddock — since the first day Elizabeth had begun to work with the horses, Cameron had haunted their every step, all but obsessed with the stables.

Elizabeth had worked wonders with the stallion over the last few weeks, and if she’d been an experienced rider, it’d be her up on his back right now. And it should be Jason, he thought with some regret, but the horse needed to be worked daily and he still had four months left until a new sheriff could be sworn in. So, instead, Elizabeth stood at the bridle, keeping the horse calm and Johnny had swung up into the saddle.

She smiled and laughed up at the stable hand, and Jason ignored the stab of irritation in his stomach. Not jealousy, he knew, but simple envy that Johnny had the freedom to spend all day at the ranch. His grandmother had meant well, and sometimes, Jason hadn’t minded spending long hours in town, but over the last few months, every morning he woke and had to ride away from the ranch—and his family, he acknowledged—he resented it more.

“I wanna ride the big horse,” Cameron told Jason. “Papa, make Mama let me.”

“Not yet,” Jason cautioned his son—and that was getting easier, he thought. To just look at the child and feel the warmth, the sense of posession. He hadn’t known Cameron as a baby, hadn’t been part of creating him, but through a benevolent quirk of fate, he’d have the raising of him. He ruffled Cameron’s blond hair. “And not on one that big. Not to start.”

Cameron scowled, then looked back at Elizabeth as she led Dusty around the training yard, Johnny simply letting the horse get used to his weight. She’d worked with other horses in the stable, Jason knew, and had knack for it, but Dusty was her favorite. He looked forward to the day he could give the horse to her as a gift.

“I scooped the poop,” Cameron said darkly, drawing Jason’s attention. His mouth was turned up in a sulk. “You said I scoop poop, I ride.”

“I said if you learned to take care of the horses, you’d be able to learn when the time came—” Jason sighed. And he was putting off the inevitable. Cameron was mad for horses, just as he’d been. He cupped his hands around his mouth so that his voice would carry across the yard. “Elizabeth!”

She turned towards them, her brows raised.

“We’ll be in the stables,” he told her, and she raised a hand in recognition, then looked back at the horse.

Jason lifted Cameron off the fence and set him on the ground. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”

“Not more poop,” the little boy muttered, but he put his hand in his father’s and followed him happily. The only place Cameron liked more than the stables was the lake, and they’d already spent the morning swimming. After a few more floating sessions, Cameron had advanced quickly and now moved through the water like a fish. It had taken he—and his mother—barely three months to shed the remnants of their city life.

Jason stopped in front of a stall and lifted Cameron to sit on the railing of the empty stall next door, then curled Cameron’s hand around the post to keep his balance. “Stay there for a minute, all right?”

“‘Kay.”

Jason unlatched the stall and took the reins of the pony that sat inside. She was a brown mare, no more than thirteen hand height—Jason was taller—but she still towered over Cameron by more than double his size. “In another year two or two,” he said, “or when you’ve grown another foot,” he clarified, “this is Cinder. She’ll be yours.”

Cameron’s eyes were wide. “You—mine?” he asked, almost breathless. “My horse?”

“Cinder is a pony,” Jason said. “She’s six, and she’ll take good care of you until you’re old enough for a horse.” He tipped his head to the tack room. “Come on, I’ll show you how to saddle her. You start taking care of some of her chores. And maybe your mother can show you how to walk her. Never alone,” he told Cameron, looping Cinder’s reins over the post so that he could set Cameron on his feet. He crouched down, met the boy’s eyes. “It’s very important that you follow the rules so you can keep yourself and Cinder safe. You’re not old enough or tall enough yet to be on your own with the horses.”

Cameron nodded soberly. “Mama said so. And you said so. Rules. But—” His shining eyes looked at the horse again. “But I can see her. And I scoop her poop. It’s okay. I’ll do it.” He threw his arms around Jason’s neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll be good. I’ll be the best.”

“You already are.” Jason squeezed Cameron back, then got to his feet. “Come on. I’ll show you how to saddle a pony and then we’ll try her out.”

—

Johnny swung a leg over Dusty’s back and hopped to the ground, then swept off his hand, his brown hair plastered to his head with sweat. “He sure does take the energy out of you,” he said, stroking the side of Dusty’s belly.

Six weeks earlier, the horse might have reared up or bit Johnny for the audacity, but the horse just stood calmly by, enjoying the way Elizabeth stroked her hands down his long head.

“He’s eager to please,” she told Johnny. “You can see it, can’t you? It’s why he took so long to trust us—”

“To trust me.” Johnny plopped the hat back on his head. “You had him at the first word.  But yeah, I get that. Old Man Coleman did a number on him and horses ain’t that different from people, you know. You smack them around enough, they start flinching from everyone.” He spat at the ground. “But that’s enough for him today, I think—” He turned and looked across the yard. “And you don’t want to miss that—”

Elizabeth turned to follow Johnny’s outstretched arm and her eyes lit up. Jason was entering the training yard, one hand fisted around a leading string and the other resting lightly on the back of a saddle. And her son, Cameron, in the saddle on the back of the sweet pony she’d looked after a time or two since her work in the stables had begun. His grin was wide, his little hands tightly curled around the pommel.

“I wondered when he’d put the little guy up on Cinder,” Johnny said, folding his arms, smiling himself. “Your boy is crazy for these horses, you know.”

“He’s crazy for everything about Jason. Fishing, swimming, horses—he wanted to be a sheriff for a whole week,” Elizabeth murmured. “But yes, the horses seem to be sticking. And of course, the pony is a perfect size for Cameron to learn on. I’d wondered why Jason had a pony in the midst of all the others—”

“Oh, he’s had Cinder for a few years now.” Johnny’s expression sobered. “Bought him just after the nephew took his first steps. Right out there by the fences, did you know?” he said to Elizabeth who blinked at him.

“No, I didn’t—”

“Always felt bad for the kid,” Johnny continued. “The brother—AJ—married some socialite from San Francisco, and he never liked being west of the mountains. Spent all his time back at the company offices in town. But the old man—Edward Morgan—” Johnny clarified, “— made it clear that the heir would stay here. Hell of a thing — they were in town just for a week and caught that cholera.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, Jason brought Michael out here every few weeks and bought that there pony for him. Kid never got to use it.”

Elizabeth’s heart ached for the loss. What would she do if she lost her baby? “I’m surprised he didn’t sell the pony.”

“Nah, couldn’t bring himself to do it. But it’s good that he kept her on. He spent a lot of time making sure it was a good, calm pony,” Johnny told Elizabeth. “Your boy will be safe and sound.”

“I know—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, then looked back at Dusty, giving the horse one last stroke. “You mind putting him up for the afternoon?”

“Not at all, missus. You go enjoy your boy.”

—

Before the day Jason put Cameron up on Cinder, the little boy had been equally obsessed with every horse in the stable. After, all his attention was pointed at his horse (it didn’t matter how many times it was explained to him that she was a pony and that was different). He woke up, and raced through his breakfast so he could help Johnny or who ever was working that morning feed Cinder. And then he helped clean out her stall, and if there was time, Johnny or Jason showed him how to put the saddle on her—and how to care for it.

And every night before Elizabeth tucked him in for bed, Cameron insisted on being measured because if he could just get to forty-eight inches, Papa would let him actually start riding lessons.

One night, as September drew to a close, Cameron pouted and demanded she measure again. “You’re wrong,” he told her crossly. “I’m four and a half. Papa said.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ve grown, darling,” Elizabeth said, but dutifuly lined him up against the door frame of his bedroom and made a mark where his head rested. “Look. Just the same.”

Cameron’s lips stuck out, and his eyes were damp. “I’ll never be big enough.” The tears slid down his cheeks and he sniffled.

“Sweetheart—” Elizabeth sighed, smoothed his hair back. “You know if you were ready, Papa would let you start lessons.”

“I-I know—b-b-but you get to ride—a-and y-your h-horse is m-much—” Cameron’s words came out in scattered sobs as he sank to the ground and put his head against his knees. “Just wanna to be big.”

Elizabeth sighed and spied Jason climbing the last set of stairs. “I’m taller than you, my love—”

“Not a lot,” he sniffled. And that was true—but she was still a foot and a half taller than him, even at five foot four. “I wanna ride.”

“You get to—”

“Led around like a baby.” Cameron raised his head, angry now. “Not a baby! No more!” He glared at Jason who had joined them. “Papa, I big enough.”

Elizabeth made a face and silently shook her head at Jason who crouched down. “Not yet, Cam,” he told him. “You need to be tall enough to reach the stirrups. It’s not about  being old enough. You’re not a baby. But if your feet can’t reach, you can’t tell Cinder when to stop. Or how to slow down or speed up.”

Cameron furrowed his brow at Jason’s sensible words. “Stirrups,” he repeated, testing out the word. “Where your feet go.”

“Yes.”

“My—” He stretched out his legs. “Legs not long.”

“Not enough. Not yet. We’re checking every night, aren’t we?” Jason told him. He lifted Cameron into his arms. “And you know the second you’re ready, Mama will tell me. She likes riding. She wants you to learn.”

“You do?” Cameron asked, peeking at his mother over Jason’s shoulder. “Really?”

“Really. I’m not good enough to leave the paddock just yet, either,” she reminded, following them inside the room, watching as Jason set Cameron in his bed. “But next spring or summer, maybe we’ll all be ready. And we can go riding together.”

Cameron nodded. “Okay. Okay.” He swiped at his eyes. “My feet tell Cinder what to do?”

“Yes, in part,” Jason told him. “It’s important. You don’t want to confuse her, do you?”

“No.” He sniffled again, then heaved a shuddering sigh. “Okay.” He looked at his mother. “Sorry, Mama.”

“It’s okay, love.” She finished the bedtime ritual of tucking him in and switching off the light. Then she and Jason went across the hall to their bedroom. “It’s going to be a longer winter,” she predicted. “He’s not going to add that last six inches for a while.”

“It’s all right,” Jason said easily, drawing her into his arms. “He can ride with me in the spring, and I’ll take you both into the mountains.” He nuzzled at her neck, the soft skin just beneath her ear. She closed her eyes, swaying slightly in his arms. “But we still need to get you through your first Colorado winter.”

“Mmm, well, I’ve been through a winter in upstate New York,” Elizabeth reminded him. “So I’m not scared.”

“Good. And I know what we can do when it gets too cold,” Jason said, the corner of his mouth turning up with that wicked light in his eyes. She grinned, then laughed when he picked her up and tossed her onto the nearby bed.

—

Summer didn’t give up its hot, sweaty grip on the days until the first weeks of October bloomed, and Elizabeth truly hoped that the heat would began to fade soon. She was desperately looking forward to the bitter chills everyone kept threatening her with. It was irritating to work and live in the shadows of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains and be drenched in her own sweat.

She felt like she was swimming through the air as she put Dusty through his last work out of the day, just a normal run to keep him loose and limber. It would break her heart when Jason proclaimed him ready to sell to the next owner. Would he let her help? Maybe she could choose—

“You look flushed,” Johnny told her, his own face florid from the heat. “I’ll finish up with him. You go get some water—”

Elizabeth sighed, and looked towards the corner of the yard where Jason was working with another horse, and Cameron was perched on the fence railing. Jason had hired two more deputies and had cut back to only three days in town these days which was wonderful for all of them. She smiled at the familiar sight, and twisted back to look at Johnny to agree to his suggestion—

But then her vision grayed and her knees dropped out from beneath her. She hit the ground with a grunt and a thud, her head lolling back in the dirt—only the dim vision of Dusty’s black hoofs rearing up and Jason and Johnny’s shouts mixed with Cameron screaming before the world went black.

+23

Written in 68 minutes. Turns out I didn’t know a lot of about horses so I had to do a little Google searching

Elizabeth trailed reluctantly after Jason into the stables, a bit apprehensive at being so close with the horses. Outside of carriages back home and the wagon ride from the heart of town to the ranch, Elizabeth had little to do with the animals—and even then, there had been grooms and stableboys to handle all of that.

But Lila had offered her an opportunity to plan the next town assembly, her first real act as Jason’s wife and a member of a prominent family—a role she had been raised to fulfull, she thought later, and that meant traveling back and forth to town often. She couldn’t expect Jason to cart her back and forth all the time or to hire someone to take care of her.

Jason might have money and come from a socially advantaged family, but things were different out here, and Elizabeth was determined to do what was needed—

Even if that meant learning how to guide a horse out of his stall and hooking him up to a wagon, then driving that wagon by herself the several miles into town.

“The road is well-marked,” Jason told her as he went down the aisle in the stables, six stalls on either side and a tack room in the back where the saddles and equipment was stored. Not every stall had a horse inside, but there were six or seven of them—their heads hanging out over the stall door.

Jason stopped at the first—one that she recognized as the one he rode out every time he went into town. He smiled, brushing his fingers over the long head and brown coat. He looked back at Elizabeth, still hanging back. “Come here—”

“He’s awfully big,” she murmured even as she forced herself to take a step forward. The horse’s head was twice as large as hers—no, probably four times, but he had lovely deep brown eyes and an obvious affection for his owner, batting his head at Jason’s shoulder. “What’s his name? I’ve never asked.”

“Teddy,” Jason answered, and her brows raised. “I named him when I was six,” he offered. “When he was born.”

“Oh. I didn’t—” Elizabeth lifted her hand and reluctantly laid it on the side of the horse’s head. “It’s like velvet,” she murmured, stroking. Teddy turned his attention from his owner to the new person, a soft sound escaping, not terribly different from the way Cameron murmured when she rubbed his back. She smiled. “I didn’t realize horses lived that long, honestly.”

“Teddy’s twenty, and in his senior years.” Jason’s mouth tightened. “They can live longer than thirty years, but it’s not always typical. He doesn’t know he’s old yet. Still runs like a foal—” He exhaled slowly. “But I was thinking of a mare for you. I know you don’t know how to ride—we’ll have to take care of that after the thaw next spring, it’s too hot to learn properly now—”

“I took a few lessons as a child, but there wasn’t…” Elizabeth shifted as they left Teddy’s stall and went down to where a light-colored horse rested in the next stall. “But there wasn’t much of a reason to keep going, I guess. Ladies didn’t really ride for fun where I grew up, and certainly not for travel—”

“This is Ruby,” Jason said. “A palomino. Gentle. She’s not a carriage horse,” he added, “and I—” He hesitated. “She was my sister’s horse. After…we sold off a lot of family’s horses we kept in town, but I couldn’t—”

“No, of course not.” Elizabeth’s heart ached as she watched the grief roll through him. It wasn’t the first time she’d watched it sneak up on him, and she thought maybe Teddy had been named for the grandfather lost—hadn’t his name been Edward? “I’d be honored to learn to ride on Ruby.”

Her attention was drawn by a bang and some thudding in the back. Jason hissed as he turned just as a horse reared in his stall and kicked at the door. It held firm, but shook—Elizabeth stepped back, her eyes wide.

“Johnny, what the hell—” Jason bit out as he strode away from Elizabeth towards the stable hand in front of the stall.

“Can’t get that bastard to settle,” Johnny O’Brien said with a grimace. He spat onto the ground next to him. “Should let him run out into the paddock. Work off some of that energy—”

“You’ve been saying that for a week,” Jason retorted, as the horse reared again. “Why the hell did we buy him?”

“Because old man Coleman was an asshole who was killing it,” Johnny offered with as a shrug. “Pardon,” he said absently as Elizabeth came up behind Jason—but kept some distance, her gaze trained on the bucking, nearly wild horse in the stall. His coat was dark, nearly a glossy black, the mane of almost matching hair—and panicked, crazed eyes.

“Elizabeth,” Jason began with a wince. “Maybe we should do this another day—”

“He looks so scared,” she said almost more to herself. “What happened to him?”

“Last owner liked the whip. Wants to see him win some races—”

“Races—” Elizabeth blinked, looked at Jason. “I didn’t realize that races were popular out here.”

“Not the same way they are back in East or in Europe, but there’s a market for racehorses.” Jason sighed. “But Coleman was heavy on the whip after Dusty lost.”

“Dusty?” Elizabet wrinkled her name. “That’s a terrible name. For him, anyway,” she added. And then she stepped around Jason, drawing a step closer to the stallion. “That’s like naming your dog Rabbit. He’s beautiful, you know. Should have named him Thunder or Lightening. Something to match—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason began, but then something strange happened. Dusty stopped bucking against the door, turned his long head towards the new voice. He whinnied.

“Oh, he’s one of those,” Johnny said with a scowl. “Sucker for a lady’s voice—” And jumped back when the horse made a motion at the stable hand that could only be described as scowling. “Do it again, missus.”

“Do what?” Elizabeth said.

“Talk. You got that fancy voice—”

“Johnny—” Jason began.

“Fancy?” Elizabeth echoed. “I wouldn’t describe it that way, but I suppose I have a bit of an accent—” Then closed her mouth as Dusty once again settled. Her eyes were wide. “Did I do that?”

“Here—” Johnny shoved a discarded newspaper into her hands. “Just read it out loud.”

“All right—” She glanced down at the small print. “Taxpayers are reminded that only fifteen days remain in which they can pay their taxes without costs. It is better to take advantage of of the heavy discount—”

“I’ll be damned,” Jason murmured as she continued reading and Dusty’s entire demeanor changed. The horse settled down, and slowly his heaving sides returned to normal, steady, rises and falls.

“It’s like he’s looking at me,” Elizabeth said, folding the newspaper. She handed it to Johnny, stepped closer, lifting her hand to gently rest it on the side of Dusty’s head. The horse’s ears flicked and there was soft whinny.

“Uh, do you know anything about working horses?” Johnny wanted to know. “Because I’m thinking that me and Jase can’t sound like that.”

“No,” Elizabeth said, continuing to stroke the smooth, glossy coat. “No,” she repeated, but looked at Jason. “But I could learn, couldn’t I? Women can do that.”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her. “Yeah, you could learn to do that.”

Elizabeth beamed, then looked back at the stallion. Maybe she could make a place for herself here on ranch, too. “I don’t want to wait until spring to learn how to ride.”

—

The July sun was high above them, but Jason was content to stand in the middle of the paddock, watching with a mixture of pride and bewilderment as Elizabeth held a leading string attached to Dusty, the wild stallion who refused to let anyone else work with him except his wife.

Two weeks into putting her to work in the stables, Elizabeth took to horses like she’d been born to it — and the stallion had fallen in love with her—would follow her anywhere, Jason thought. She’d still have to learn to ride on Ruby, he reflected, but there was no way he was putting Dusty back on the racing circuit when the only human he seemed to be interested in was Elizabeth.

“All right, he needs to wind down and take some water—” Jason began, but Elizabeth seemed a step head ahead of him, tugging on the lead to have Dusty slowing down. Then she led him over to the trough of water where he drank thirstily.

Elizabeth patted the horse at the shoulder, careful to keep away from his rear—the first lesson he’d taught her. “He’s doing such a great job, isn’t he?”

“Better than the entire first week he spent here. Should have brought you out to the stables on day one.” Jason folded his arms, studied her. Her brown hair was tied up in some sort of twist, with tendrils sticking to her cheeks and neck with sweat from the heat of the summer day. The shirtwaist had begun the day as white but was now streaked with dirt and damp in areas from more sweat. Her fair skin was bright red, a streak of mud slashing across a cheek, her blue eyes sparkling.

He’d never seen a woman who looked more beautiful.

“I wish we could do something for the whip scars,” Elizabeth murmured, touching the spots gently on the side of Dusty’s belly. “He didn’t deserve any of this.”

“No. But they’ll be a memory of how far he’s come. That’s all scars are, really—”

She glanced down to her hands, ungloved with dirt staining her nails, the missing tip of her index finger with its own snaky thin white scars in her skin. Elizabeth met his eyes, then smiled again. “Just a mark of where he’s been, right? Nothing more.”

“Nothing more.” He leaned down and captured her mouth with his. When he drew back, her cheeks flushed for a new reason, Jason saw Alice coming down from the house, Cameron skipping alongside. They reached the paddock fence, Cameron’s eyes wide at the sight of the horse.

“He woke up from a nap,” Alice said, lifting Cameron up a step so he stood on the bottom rung of the fence. “Wanted his parents.”

“Hey—” Jason lifted the little boy into his arms and over the fence. Elizabeth bit her lip, glancing nervously at the horse. Dusty was warming up to Jason because he was always with her, but would the horse sense the fragileness of the child?

“Big horse.” Cameron wrapped arms tightly around Jason’s neck. “Big.”

“Big, but not scary.” Jason stroked Cameron’s back. “Watch Mama.”

Elizabeth touched Dusty’s head, scratching just beneath his ears, and the horse made a happy sound, exhaling almost like a sigh of delight. “Come try,” she told her son. Jason came closer and laid Cameron’s hand just beneath Elizabeth’s. To his relief and Cameron’s excitement, the horse just leaned into the little boy’s touch.

“Soft,” Cameron said. “Can I ride?”

“Oh, no. Not yet. Not this one,” Elizabeth said.

“No, you’ll learn on a pony,” Jason said, tightening his arms slightly around the little boy as he thought of how often he’d been thrown while learning to ride. How he’d broken bones—then he relaxed and smiled at Cameron—at his son. “But you’ll learn. Just like Mama.”

“Oh, good.” Cameron leaned his head against Jason’s shoulder. “Horse smells, Papa.” His nose wrinkled up. “Oh, big smell.”

Elizabeth clapped a hand over her nose, stepping away from the stallion as Jason grinned. Elizabeth still hadn’t learned how to handle the, uh, less delicate areas of working with horses—there were no chamber pots or outhouses.

“You wanna learn how to do take care of that?” Jason added, nodding to the large pile that had dropped from the horse’s rear.

Elizabeth made a face. “No. I really don’t.”

He shook his head. “Go put him back in the stall,” he told Elizabeth. “Cameron and I will take care of it.”

“We will?” Cameron asked dubiously as Elizabeth happily led the stallion away, grateful to be given reprieve. “Bad smell, Papa,” he informed Jason as he was set on his feet as soon as Dusty was out of the paddock.

“Part of the job. You want to learn how to ride a horse one day, you need to learn how to care for them.” It was going to be fun, Jason decided, teaching his family how to live out on the ranch. He could hardly wait.

+25

Written in 58 minutes.

Cameron nearly fell asleep at the dinner table that evening, his head listing to the side until he gave up and put his head on his arms. Elizabeth would have been mortified by his manners but she was a bit tired herself, and Jason only seemed to laugh and lift the little  boy in his arms.

“I’ll take him up,” Jason told her as she rushed to her feet. “You finish eating—”

“Oh, I’m done,” Elizabeth assured him, a bit uncertain at the quick change in her husband’s demeanor. Jason had spent so little time with Cameron, though he’d been unfailingly kind and gentle with the little boy. Today, anyone observing the two of them might have mistaken Jason for Cameron’s father. Right now, Cameron was tucked into Jason’s arms, his head cradled against Jason’s shoulder, looking every inch the warm and loving parent.

Was it just for the day? Jason had promised them one day a week, but what about all the rest of them? And the promised dog? Things were changing so very quickly and she didn’t know how to manage all the emotions swirling inside.

“I can tuck him in if you carry him,” Elizabeth offered, following Jason towards the stairwell, her hands fluttering uselessly. Did she think she expected him to do this? Oh, she was trying so hard not to make any demands on him—

“I can do it. I should do it.” Jason paused, turned back to look at her. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“Oh, no.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s just that I don’t want you to think you have to—”

“I don’t,” Jason assured her, and then disappeared up the stairs. If she followed him, would that make him angry, she wondered? Or would he think she didn’t trust him with her son?

She did, though that felt like a foolish decision. No more foolish than traveling across the country, then marrying a man who hadn’t sent for her in the first place, she reminded herself. She’d trusted Jason with her own life and happiness—and Cameron’s. If he wanted to hurt either of them, he’d have done so all ready.

Oh, she was getting herself worked up and worried over nothing, Elizabeth decided, irritated with herself. She returned to the dining room to stare at her half-eaten food, her stomach lurching at the thought of finishing her meal.

“Are you done, darling?” Alice asked, bustling in to gather up the dirty dishes from Cameron and Jason’s places. “Did Mister Jason take the young master up to sleep?”

“Yes. Yes.” Elizabeth flashed the housekeeper a quick smile, who had been nothing but kind and warm to them both. “He all but fell asleep at the table. I’m so sorry he didn’t each much—”

“Boy eats like a horse at every other meal,” Alice said, her good-natured smile causing Elizabeth’s own to deepen and feel more genuine. “And I saw what a good time he had today. All tuckered out.”

“Yes, Jason was very kind to spend so much with him today,” Elizabeth said. She picked up her fork and pushed at a piece of meat. “Thank you for all that you do for him. You’ve been just as wonderful—”

“He makes it easy,” the housekeeper replied. “You’ve done well with him, Missus, if you don’t mind me saying so. And he’s come into Mister Jason’s life just at the right time. My boy needs some light and laughter in his life.”  Her expression dimmed. “We all do.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught at the reminder that the boisterous woman had lost much in the cholera epidemic that had swept through the town and decimated Jason’s family. He’d told her Alice had lost her own. “He’s always kept my spirits high. I’ve been most fortunate. Being his mother has been a blessing when I’ve needed it most.”

“Children will do that to you,” Alice said, stacking her own. “My boy, Ryan—” Her voice faltered. “He had a wicked smile and a set of dimples. Couldn’t stay angry with him. He was going to be a doctor, you know. Had it all set to head to San Francisco for the schooling. Mister Edward was going to pay for it.”

“Oh, Alice—”

“Good that I had Mister Jason to look out for after all of that,” she said briskly, shifting the conversation back. “He spent so much time worried over his grandmother and that cousin—I moved out here to make sure someone worried over him.” Alice’s smile returned. “And now he’ll be looked after, too. You’ll take care of him, won’t you?”

“I will,” Elizabeth said, though not entirely sure how to keep that promise.

——

Jason laid Cameron into the bed, carefully to lay his head against the pillow. Then unlaced the shoes and removed his stockings. It wouldn’t do much harm to sleep in his clothes, Jason decided. He found the rag doll on the table next to the bed and laid him in the crook of Cameron’s elbow.

Elizabeth had looked so surprised when Jason had offered to put her son to bed, another note of his failure to do more. He’d promised to look after Cameron as his own, hadn’t he? Jason perched on the edge of the bed, watching as the boy’s chest rose steadily, his breathing remaining even and deep.  That was the promise Dillon had made in those wretched letters, the promise that had lured Elizabeth away from the world she’d known her whole life and travel across the country.

And Cameron was easy to like. He had a brash smile, a sunny nature, and was so grateful for every morsel of attention that Jason wanted to give him more.

But looking at the sleeping child brought back other feelings. Other memories that Jason had wanted to remain buried. It wasn’t Cameron or his mother’s fault that the little  boy had the same sunny blond hair that Michael had. Or that, at the age of four, he was the age Michael would have been if he’d lived. Or that this room, with the smaller bed, had once been Michael’s.

None of that was Cameron or Elizabeth’s responsibility, only Jason’s burden to manage.

Today, when Cameron had gone beneath the water, sputtering, Jason’s heart had leapt, started to race in his chest, even as he’d forced himself to laugh and drag Cameron back to the surface. Little boys were fragile. Children were fragile. They sickened easily.

Jason exhaled softly, then turned down the lamp on the side table. He’d loved his nephew every day of the two years they’d been given with him. More any other loss they suffered, Michael’s had lingered in his thoughts. His tiny body had been so wracked with the disease, and he hadn’t truly understood what was happening to him. He wasn’t old enough to be told, to take medicine—he hadn’t even been old enough to know that he wouldn’t live. On his last day, with his last words, Michael had wanted to go outside and play.

Jason ruffled Cameron’s soft hair, then rose to his feet. He’d thought of becoming a father after Michael’s birth, of having a child of his own that would be with him all the time, but after losing the little boy, for all that he’d promised his grandmother—he hadn’t looked to start his own family very hard. He hadn’t wanted to let anyone else in his life.

He left the room and found Elizabeth at the top of the stairs, her hand resting on the carved knob on the railing. “He’s still asleep if you want to look in on him.”

“No, I—” Elizabeth met him in the middle of the hallway, her gaze searching his. “Thank you. For today. He’ll remember it forever.”

Jason’s chest tightened. He didn’t like the way her words sounded, though he knew she meant them genuinely. They sounded so…temporary. “I hope he won’t,” he said, his tone more rough than he meant. Her eyes widened. “I hope he’ll have so many days like it that one won’t stand out.” And that Cameron would have so many days in a long, well-lived life, that one hot summer day spent in the lake wouldn’t even rank.

Elizabeth smiled, and his heart leapt, because she understood what he’d meant. “I wish for the same. For his happiness to be so complete and constant that he won’t have to cling to one moment, but all of them. Then I thank you for myself. I’ll remember it always.”

Jason nodded. That was better. “So will I.” He rest his hands at her waist, drawing her against him. “It was good out there on the lake. The three of us,” he added. “I felt—” He cleared his throat. “Like we were a family. For the first time.”

“So did I. I’ve felt quite married,” Elizabeth added, and he knew her cheeks were flushing, and he grinned at that. “But it wasn’t the same as feeling…” She squinted. “Connected. I don’t know if that quite make sense—”

“It does.” He slid one of his arms around her waist and turned her in the direction of their bedroom.

“I want you to know that your happiness is important to me,” Elizabeth blurted out, stopping at the doorway to the room, standing in the middle of it. Her eyes were wide. “You’ve given so much to me, to Cameron. Our lives are so different, so much better,” she hurried to add. “And I am very grateful—”

Jason grimaced, and her expression. “I only meant—”

“I know what you meant.” And Jason didn’t hold it against her. He only wished he could see inside of her mind. To know exactly where gratitude stopped and affection, if it existed, began. “I am happy,” he said instead, because he could think of no good way to ask someone, even his own wife, if she cared for him. He leaned down to brush his mouth against hers. “I promise you.”

—

A few days later, after completing his work at the jail, Jason went to his grandmother’s house.

“Hello, darling.” Lila beamed as Jason kissed her cheek. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. I hope that means you and Elizabeth have quite settled.” Her eyes narrowed. “Even though your cousin says you’ve mostly kept your terrible schedule here in town—”

“That’s one of the reasons I’ve come by,” Jason told her, squeezing her hands. “I want to spend more time at the ranch so I’ve already informed the council I won’t be standing for another term. And they’ve agreed to hire another deputy so that I can take more time now. I’ve promised a day a week, but I want more.”

“Oh.” Lila brightened. “Well, that’s quite all right. You have your family to care for, just as I wanted for you. And you’ll bring them dinner on Sundays.” She paused. “Just like before.”

Before the cholera. Jason had come every Sunday after church for the meal, to spend time with his grandparents, parents, and sister Emily. And if AJ and his wife were in San Francisco, he’d taken Michael back to the ranch for a few days to make sure someone was taking care of him.

It would never be like before. After the disease had nearly taken everyone, Jason had moved in for a while and then stopped by every day after he’d gone back to the ranch, once he’d been appointed sheriff.  The last few weeks had been longest time he’d spent away from his grandmother in years.

“Just like before,” Jason said, because it was what Lila wanted to hear. “I wanted to ask you for some ideas for Elizabeth. She hasn’t said much to me, but I know she’s been restless during the days and even when I’m back on the ranch, there will still be work to tend to. I’d like her to feel part of the family. There are some responsibilities I know you’ve wanted to ease back on.”

“What a lovely idea, and so very thoughtful of you.” Lila patted Jason’s hand. “I’ll bring it up at dinner. Oh, I had Dillon put together some toys to take out to the ranch, some things from the nursery that might be appropriate for Cameron—”

From the nursery. Michael’s toys. Jason shook his head. “No,” he said abruptly, not wanting one more thing that belonged to his nephew at the ranch. He wanted Cameron to have his own things without memories tied to them. “No,” he repeated more gently when his grandmother looked upset. “He’ll need them for the visits here,” he reminded her. “You want him to come often, don’t you?”

“Oh.” Lila brightened. “Of course. When Elizabeth comes to town, she can leave him with me. You’re always so thoughtful, my dear.”

That wasn’t true at all, but Jason didn’t want to press it. He made promises to being Elizabeth and Cameron for the next Sunday, then went home a few hours before the sun dipped down, before supper would be served, surprising Elizabeth by offering to show Cameron some of the basics of fishing that very evening.

He’d never taken Michael fishing, Jason thought, as his stepson skipped down the path towards the pier and the lake. This would be one more thing that belonged just to Cameron. To his children, Jason decided, as Cameron shot him a sunny smile, his blue eyes dancing with excitement. It was time to get on with his life and make new memories.

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