Emma was not prone to tears. She just wasn't. But she wasn't made of stone either. So as she looked out the window at the front of her house to the quiet street where children were just beginning to come out and enjoy the morning sun, she wept. She wept not at the children playing merrily but at the sight of her husband astride his horse which now ambled away from their house and toward his office.

He would be home later. She wasn't even sure how happy she was about that. Drying her eyes she chastised herself. She wanted him home. She wanted him home right now. They needed to talk. He didn't know they needed to talk but they did all the same.

He was too smart to not know that something was up. She could tell as much when he kissed her goodbye. For having once been a man of such action, he had evolved through the years into a pondering and thinking man. He watched people, learned them and Emma knew that he had learned her best of all. He'd had to. She didn't make things easy for him, that was for sure.

It was clear he didn't know what she was withholding right then. But he certainly knew something was up. She had to tell him. Maybe her fears weren't even warranted. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad at all. He would come home in the evening and sit down to supper and she would tell him and maybe they'd still be okay. Maybe.

Of course, now she just wanted to get it over with and let the chips fall where they may. But he was already gone.

A tiny smile turned the corners of her mouth as an idea came to her.

Something wasn't sitting right with Sam. He couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly but something was amiss. Something with Emma…or maybe something with him and Emma. She wasn't mad, exactly. He didn't think so at any rate.

But something was wrong. She sighed more and looked longingly out the window more often. In the last few days she had spoken often of Sweetwater and her boys there. It was wistful the way she spoke and filled with longing.

It had been a lot to ask, he knew, to have her move with him. He worried at first that she wouldn't still marry him knowing it meant leaving her home, all she'd known. But she said yes and they'd packed up and moved to Omaha.

There had been an adjustment at first for both of them. Omaha was a larger town than they were used to. The work was different for Sam. Politics played a much larger role in the higher profile position. They found Emma had to play the political game as well. She was the wife of the territorial marshal after all.

He had worried for her but she took to it like a duck to water. She had chosen a home on the outskirts of town and set to making it look respectable and proper. She guided him to being what was expected of him.

He knew it hadn't been as easy on her as she made it look. She was used to more anonymity. She was used to more space. She was used to feeling more useful. She had joined ladies committees through the church and still, he knew, she missed caring for her boys. But she rarely mentioned them. Until the last few days, that was.

Now he felt guilty. Now he knew that she was hurting. He had taken her from her children. They were hers even though she wasn't near old enough to have birthed any of them. He tried. He tried every day to show her how precious and vital she was to him. He never missed kissing her goodbye or even telling her he loved her. That had been difficult at first. He wasn't a man to go on about his feelings but once he said it, the way her eyes lit, he couldn't stop.

It wasn't enough. She still wasn't happy and he didn't know what to do about it. Just that morning she looked about to say something and then didn't. He had been sort of disappointed. As afraid as he was to hear of her sadness, he knew he couldn't fix it if she didn't tell him.

And he knew better than to ask. Asking would result in her asserting that everything was fine. Which it was not. It most certainly was not. But she would have to tell him in her own time and in her own way what was wrong.

Sighing, he opened the basket she had sent with him to see what he was eating for lunch. Whatever was wrong with her, or them, she still lovingly packed a lunch every day. He smiled to see fried chicken in the basket along with an apple and some cheese. He loved fried chicken and she knew it.

He had just started to enjoy the first piece of chicken when he heard the door to his office open. He looked up with a surly expression at being interrupted in his meal. It would be just his luck to be bored out of his mind all morning and then interrupted by a problem right when he was about to enjoy some of his wife's cooking.

His sour expression fell away and was quickly replaced by a smile when he saw that it was Emma who had come to visit him at work.

"This is quite a surprise, Emma," he said happily.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I, Sam?"

"I was just about to dig into this wonderful lunch you packed me."

It was then he spied the pie in her hands.

"Is that for one of the ladies committees? Is someone sick?"

It was not uncommon for the ladies to bring food to families whose women were sick or for Emma to take in on herself to bring refreshments for meetings.

"Actually," she replied timidly. "I made it for you. I didn't pack you any dessert. As I recall, blueberry was always one of your favorite pies."

"Any pie you make is my favorite," he told her trying to make her see how much he loved her. She looked to be opening up and he wanted to encourage her. "Though, you're right, I have a special fondness for blueberry."

Emma pulled a chair up to his desk and began to slice the pie. This had seemed like such a good idea and now that she was here, she was uncertain.

"I'm glad you came, Emma," Sam said softly breaking the silence that had come to settle between them. "I don't know why exactly but I was sitting here and missing you. I know I only saw you a few hours ago and I know I'll be home in a few more but I missed you all the same."

Emma seemed to consider his words a moment and then she very deliberately spoke.

"Sam…I need to talk to you about something," she began. "I think it's something we should have talked about before we got married. Maybe before we even started courting in earnest."

"This doesn't sound good, Emma. You got me a little worried. Does this have to do with why you're so sad? Do you hate it here that much? I can quit…I can go back to Sweetwater or anywhere else."

"Sam, it's not that. I just…h-how do you feel about…children?"

"Children?"

"We never talked about it before. Do you want children, Sam?"

"Is that all this is about, Emma?" he asked sounding relieved. "I hadn't thought about being a father in a real long time but yeah, I'd love to have children. Is that all that's been bothering you, Emma? You want to have a baby?"

"I'm going to have a baby," she said softly. "I've always wanted another one. Always. I put everything I would have given my son into those boys at the station. You know that. I thought I had more time to talk to you but…well, I'm expecting now."

"We're going to have a baby?" Sam asked almost giddily. "That's fantastic news! Are you alright? You aren't working too hard are you? When?"

"Calm down, Sam," she admonished sounding more like the Emma he knew and loved than she had in quite a while. "Women have babies all the time. I would know if anything was amiss. I am fine. And I will be the judge of when I am doing too much. I figure I'm a little over two months gone now so seven more months sounds about right. Plenty of time to get done all that needs doing."

He had jumped up at her news and now pulled her to standing and hugged her tight picking her up and swinging her around.

"I love you, Emma. You know that, right?"

"I love you right back. I was worried for nothing, wasn't I?"

"Yeah, you were…but you're adorable when you're worrying over silly things. Hell, you're adorable all the time."

"You're going to be a fine father, Sam. You really are."

Sam released her from his arms a moment and placed a hand reverently on her belly. Then, heedless to the passersby just outside his office window, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. He did not merely offer a peck on her lips. He covered her lips with his, feverishly moving over her lips and taking advantage of the gasp he received. She might be upset with him for behaving so in public but right then he would chance it. He just had to explore her mouth, her lips, feel the softness of her cheeks beneath his fingers.

In that moment, Emma was his entire world. He had an inkling that she had been since he had first met her. Her dark eyes held mysteries he knew he'd never solve but wanted to try all the same. Her scent intoxicated him like beer or whiskey never could. And now a child.

Sam had worried that there was something wrong. He saw now that things couldn't be more right.

Almost done with this series...one more to go...not sure when I'll get it done. But I shall. I still have to work on the next installment of the poor neglected GGS. Would hate to disappoint the tens of readers that Gert and I have accumulated. I kid but really...

Anyway, these two fought me for a while but once the story crystallized, it was a fairly quick write. I hope it is to your liking. I do so love Sam and Emma. They are darling and might be my favorite canon couple.-J