AN: So this is a thing. Cowboys & Aliens is not mine, nor is Talk About Suffering Here Below. Enjoy.

C&A

The sun was nearly high in the sky when the rescue party rode back into town, somber but relieved. A small crowd gathered and grew steadily larger as word spread. They had returned, they returned successful. Alive.

Their people returned.

Colonel Dolarhyde was first to arrive, with Percy flanking his left side, Jake the Outlaw on his right. A mighty cheer went up when those taken were reunited with those left behind. Through the throng of people, Woodrow got sight of a handsome woman near the back. Her eyes scanned the faces of the returned before settling on him. As she began her approach, he thought of what he would say, how he would explain.

She was upon him before he had a chance to formulate his plan. A pretty little half breed, her dark skin spoke to her native mother; but it was her bright green eyes that denoted a white man's daughter. She stood calmly before him, meeting his gaze evenly. What is any wonder he had loved her so much?

"No?" her voice was quiet, and he knew what she was asking. Swiftly he dismounted his horse and handed the reigns to Percy. The younger Dolarhyde had the notion it would be a good idea to give the two a bit of space, and for once his notion was right.

"Ada, I'm sorry."

The look of utter heartbreak and defeat that crossed her features at that moment struck something deep within him. She blinked a few times, directing her eyes to some higher up, far off place as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"Whe- how – I trust it was in battle? It was honorable?" That was the tribe in her talking, he knew and understood that. His irritation at her lack of falling to pieces mixed rather interestingly with his pride at her composure. It left him with a feeling he couldn't name.

"In the final battle against the demons. His death was, well he, he died protectin his people. He died protectin me." Even now, thinking back to how his man struggled to breathe around his own blood, urging him to get his son, choking out the last of his life – left him wounded inside.

Apparently though, his reassurances were the wrong ones. Ada scoffed at his effort, taking a step away from his attempts at comfort and looked him down with pure venom.

"And that's supposed to help me? That he died protectin you? You, Colonel Dolarhyde, who only saw him as a burden and a ward - but oh he loved you. God knows he loved and respected you as the father he never had but wanted so desperately. He was so devoted to being the son you craved that he followed you into a battle that cost him his life! And yet you get to return home to your lands and your wealth and your life with son neatly in tow, and Nat, God Nat, he…." She trailed off, and Woodrow made a move to touch her arm but she moved to wrap them around herself.

"He left and I didn't get a chance to tell him, he never knew . . ."

"What will become of us now little one?"

This time he did reach out and take her arm, in just the moment he finally understood what had happened.

"Ada, were you and Nat-?" he couldn't finish the question though, because she looked up and those pretty green eyes were shining with tears as she almost tried to smile.

"I wanted a lifetime with him, not just a little over a year as newlyweds. But I'll have our little one, and that will have to be enough. Did you speak over his body? It's what he would of wanted."

Woodrow Dolarhyde thought back to that day in the desert, when the survivors were laying the dead to rest. The Chiricahua chief had offered to preside over the body of Nat Colorado; they were of the same tribe, and up until that point the Colonel had not shown much care for his Native ward. But he surprised many when he shook his head and moved over to Nat's plot. Quietly he spoke, asking for care of his soul, it was a loyal one, and that he was a good man, friend, husband, son . . .

He didn't tell her what he said, she didn't need to know all the words; he only nodded and pulled her to his chest as she suddenly broke out in a sob.

The crowd had start to disperse, and though it was now known who didn't survive and condolences were given, it could not dampen the joy throughout the town square. The mass of people moved into the saloon where drinks flowed and Doc regaled the harrowing story to anyone who wanted to hear it. And everyone wanted to hear it.

After a few moments, Ada lifted her head and stepped away from the Colonel.

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry."

"Ah hell girl, you got every right. Listen, I want you to come and stay with us."

"But why -?"

"To make amends, for you, and for Nat. And for my grandchild."

For several moments no one said a word, not Woodrow who held the look of a defeated old man. Not Ada as she stared him down with distrust and hope. And not Percy who had been off to the side, out of sight and out of mind but not out of earshot. He would be lying if he said he understood the change that had come over his Pa while he'd been held captive by the demons. The new way he spoke of Nat's memory, and how he spoke to the man's widow.

But he'd also be lying if he said he didn't want Ada to live with them.

Truth be said he and Nat had always had a strange relationship – while he knew the older man was his lesser and in essence a manservant to his family, the two had also shared a strange older/younger brother bond. Percy knew he could rely on the Indian for damn near everything, and a part of him wanted to return the kindness to his remaining family.

And still Ada stared them down.

Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her belly where their child slept and grew, and felt the answer come from deep within her before her mind knew it.

"Alright. I suppose it's what Nat would have wanted."

*O*

The moon was slowly rising as Ada lay in her bed, eyes staring out the open window. Only several hours since she had been made aware of her widow-ship, and this was the first moment she really had to herself subsequently. The Colonel and Percy had been gracious enough, escorting her back to the little shack she and Nat had shared before making their way to the big house.

Naturally Mrs. Dolarhyde had already been made privy to the knowledge that the young mother in front of her was now widowed, and immediately embraced her at the door. She had cried then – not the shallow tears she showed the Colonel but real honest to God tears. It wasn't fair, she had wanted so little, just a long and healthy life with Nat.

A few folks came round to offer their commiserations, Jake Lonergan was the first. She gave him as much comfort as he gave her, after all they both suddenly lost people they loved. But once a few hours had passed the visitors left, and Mrs. Dolarhyde had Ada fed and bathed and then ushered her into her room for bed.

With the silence of the room battling the noise of the rest of the house, Ada let it sink in that she was now alone, and Nat would never be coming back to her. Tears slipped down her cheeks again as her mind wandered.

She could see him, standing in the moonlight with the window behind him. His round face expressing both sorrow and love as he looked back at her. She held out her hand to him as he walked closer, taking it with both of his and kissing it softly. Sitting up, she aided him in removing his clothes while he worked on hers. They moved slowly, kissing and caressing each inch of skin revealed.

While she touched each of his scars he rubbed her stomach, marveling at its sudden firmness. Guiding him over her, she held him tightly while he kissed and nipped and whispered into her neck and suddenly he was thrusting inside. Moaning exquisitely Ada nibbled on his ear to help keep quiet as he buried his voice in her flesh. Faster and harder he pushed, and she forced herself to remember, to keep everything that was happening locked inside of her memory to have forever.

"Ada, oh how I love you, Ada. Ada Colorado." He sang out, and it was the first time she heard him speak since appearing, and she tried to memorize his voice too.

And then it was over.

She held onto the image of his eyes, deep and brown and beautiful, as she slowly opened her own. She was alone in her room, her well-meaning hand slowly retracting from under her night shift. She was alone and Nat was dead and never coming back and all she would ever have again are these empty fantasies and well-meaning hands and –

No. She would also have their little one.

And it would be enough.

Turning onto her side again, Ada looked back out of the window at the moon, and wept.

*Epilogue*

The little boy danced around his mother's feet, pulling at her apron strings every now and again as he pestered her. But she would not relent. She was made of sterner stuff than her son could muster at his tender age.

"Oh come on Ma, Uncle Percy said he would keep an eye on me and ev'rythin!" he cried, his C's accentuated by the lack to two front teeth.

"Not helping your cause by bringin' that up." She said as she folded the dough, a smile on her lips as she heard him whine again.

"But Ma! How am I supposed to protect the railroad iff'n I can't even shoot!" this time she relented, and a small chuckled passed her lips. Hearing the sound her boy knew he was making ground.

"And just who are you protectin it from?" she bent to put the loaf in the heat, but nearly dropped it when she heard his answer.

"Why the indjians a'corse!"

"Nathanial Woodrow Colorado! You are one of those indjians!"

"But Ma!"

"Come on Ada, let the boy have his fun." Came a new voice from the doorframe, and Ada's fists came to rest squarely on her hips as she eyed the newcomer.

"Grandpa!" Nat ran to embrace the Colonel, and his mother let the defense drop as she moved to put the coffee over the flame.

"I have a hard time allowin my boy to run around playin with guns when Percy is the one watchin over him." With his Grandfather present, Nat was confident that he would prevail, but snuck out the door all the same. When his Grandpa and Ma were in the same room talking about serious things like what he can play, things tended to go flying.

"You know Percy isn't the same little pecker he once was. Besides, I'll be there, makin sure neither of them get too hurt." He allowed a smirk to play over his old worn features, and she gave him his minor victory.

"Alright, but no more Cowboys and Indians. I don't need my boy growin up thinkin he needs to kill his people to save the pretty white woman." As she poured him a mug of coffee and smiled, he accepted both gestures of good will by tipping his head in thanks.

"And just what would you recommend, since you were once a little boy too." They both laughed, but her mirth didn't completely fill her eyes.

"How about Cowboys and Demons."

Silence descended over them, and he finished his cup before nodding to her.

"Alright Ada." Quietly to her, and then louder, to the ear listen at the door, "Come on Nat, time to teach you how to shoot."

The cheer that went up from outside warmed her heart, and she kissed the Colonel's cheek before moving back to the stew she was cooking in the pot. From behind her she could hear her little boy squeal excitedly as his Grandpa picked him up.

"You know your Pa was about your age when he learned to shoot, too . . ." the sounds of the young boy and old man faded into the distance, and Ada lost herself in thought and the daily work.

"Talk about sufferin here below and let's keep a-followin' Jesus. Oh, can't you hear it father? And don't you want to go and leave this world of sorrow and troubles here below . . ."A soft wind blew in through the open window as she sang, and a smiled played at her lips as she pictured Nat, sitting in his chair and grinning while he watched her work and their son play.

"The gospel train is comin' now don't you want to go and leave this world of sorrow and troubles here below . . ."

C&A