A/N: What happened during that drive Jack and Lisa took after Paint died in Ties of the Earth.

Quiet Drive

Summer evenings in these northern latitudes, Lisa reflected, could be a blessing and a curse. For the farmer and the rancher, longer daylight hours were beneficial as they spent much of the time toiling away outdoors. A great deal more could be accomplished when the sun was still up in the sky, but the labour was gruelling and inevitably took its toll on both man and beast.

The silent man who sat beside Lisa in the passenger seat of the SUV had passed much of his adult life doing such work. Jack's face was noticeably creased with age, weathered by sun and wind, yet still handsome and dignified despite his years. His work nowadays was usually punctuated with bouts of pain due to arthritis; a heart attack a few years ago had nearly ended the work completely.

A cold shiver ran through Lisa at that thought.

I wasn't there for him. He could have died. If it hadn't been for Paint staying by his side…

Lisa stole a concerned glance at her husband. His jaw was set and his eyes were open and unblinking, seemingly gazing out into some fixed point on the horizon. There was a rigidity and tension about him that made his body seem like it was a block of concrete cast around a steel skeleton.

Some clouds were starting to roll in, shrouding the sun, darkening the already grim mood that was so palpable. The country road stretched before them like a dark ribbon towards the Rocky Mountains. It was a sight that normally inspired awe, but today's heart-breaking events ensured the natural beauty would go unnoticed and unappreciated.

Lisa wished Jack would say something, but knew it would be a long time before he would be able to utter a word. The pain of loss was too new; too raw. Opening his mouth might open the floodgates, and Jack Bartlett was still cut from the old cloth of "men don't cry".

They'd been driving now for close to half an hour, yet Jack was oblivious to the passage of time. So the grassy fields whizzed past in a blur and the clock on the dashboard registered the fleeting minutes, unheeded. He was aware of two things only: the desperate, unyielding ache in his heart, and the beautiful woman next to him whose presence made that ache somehow more bearable.

Jack couldn't help remembering the groans and the laboured breathing of his old horse; couldn't erase the image of the pained expression in the eyes. All treatments and therapies had been exhausted. Prolonging the inevitable would have been cruel for the animal. Attempting to force Paint back up onto his feet one last time would have been selfish, and Jack reached the conclusion he had to put a merciful end to it.

Knowing all that didn't make it any easier, and in those final moments of staring into those agonized eyes, squinting through the sights of his rifle, Jack Bartlett faltered. He simply couldn't shoot Paint.

After Ty had done his part out in the field, he'd left Jack some privacy to mourn the loss of his beloved equine workmate. A special part of his world was gone forever, and while it was not unexpected, Jack still imagined that somehow there would have been more time to spend with Paint.

There shouldhave been more time.

How much more loss am I going to have to bear, Jack wondered.

There should have been more time with Lyndy, he figured. There should have been more time for his daughter, Marion.

Because of Paint, Jack knew he'd been personally granted more of that precious time. He counted it as a miracle the horse had stayed by his side the evening he suffered the heart attack. If Paint had simply wandered off to find something to chew on, or to find water, or been spooked by something, Tim would never have found Jack in time.

And I wouldn't be sitting here, Jack mused. I wouldn't have had a second chance with Lisa.

He thought now of how he initially wanted to be alone with his grief out in the field. But somehow, Lisa knew how much time and space to give him. Jack honestly didn't know how long he'd spent next to Paint's still form. All he knew was that one moment it was just him and the body; the next, Lisa was there, her hand on his shoulder. With that touch, he felt a slight release of some of the tension that had built up inside him, like he could breathe again, see again, and think again.

"Come with me," she'd said simply, entwining her soft, warm fingers between his cold, rough, work-calloused fingers. "We'll go for a drive."

Without a word, he'd obediently allowed her to lead him away. As they approached Lisa's SUV, Ty and Amy took over the 'vigil' at Paint's side, bringing with them a large tarp to drape over him for the night, offering some semblance of dignity for the creature.

Lisa glanced again at Jack, wondering what he was thinking about. The sun was starting to set behind the mountains now, casting long shadows, painting the underside of the clouds a fiery orange as the sky turned all kinds of colours ranging from golden yellow to pink, purple, grey, and black.

She decided she'd been driving long enough. A short distance ahead, she spied a road that turned off to the right. Lisa didn't know where the road led, but she nevertheless slowed the Porsche and made the turn, eventually pulling off to the gravel shoulder. She brought the vehicle to a complete stop and shut off the engine. They sat together in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sound of their breathing filling the space. Lisa eventually unbuckled her seatbelt. Slowly and tentatively, she let her right hand reach across to cover Jack's hands, which were balled into tight fists on his lap. His mouth was drawn into a deep frown, lips pursed together, eyes filled with the sorrow of unshed tears.

"I told you earlier I understand what you're going through," Lisa said slowly, looking at him carefully to gauge his mood. He gave a long nod, which seemed to indicate it was safe for her to proceed.

So she continued: "Dad bought me my first horse when I was seven—a rescue. She was a dapple grey, a lot like Cinders. She already had a name—one I thought was quite inadequate—so I re-named her 'Silver'. She was already about fifteen years old by that time, but I didn't care because she was a really beautiful and sweet-tempered horse. We became quite inseparable. Rode her pretty much every day I could. Told her all my secrets and pretended she could understand everything I said.

"One afternoon when I was about twelve, I came home from school and Silver just wasn't herself. I knew something was terribly wrong, and when Dad called the vet, he diagnosed colic. The necessary surgery and after-care was going to be so expensive that Dad wasn't sure it would be worth it for a horse that age.

"Fortunately, my Aunt Evelyn happened to think it was worth it, so she offered to foot the bill… Unfortunately, the surgery wasn't as successful as we hoped it would be. Silver developed complications. There were issues with intestinal infections that wouldn't clear up. Her stay at the vet hospital was so long because of all this, I missed her terribly. I just wanted her to come home because I had this silly idea that if she could just come back to Fairfield, and to me, she would improve.

"But she was in so much discomfort and pain… Dad told me I was old enough to make the decision about what to do. Eventually, I had to face the sad truth: Silver wasn't going to get better, and she wasn't coming home. The best thing to do was to put her down.

"The only good part about it was I got to say goodbye. I remember standing there with her, just stroking her mane as I cried, telling her how much I loved her; that I was going to miss her and that she was the best horse in the world… And who was I going to tell my secrets to when she was gone?

"Afterwards, I kept a small clipping of her mane in a little music box on my dressing table. But seeing her empty stall and all of my riding gear and my favourite saddle… that was the worst. I couldn't bring myself to go out to the stables for quite a while because I knew she wasn't going to be there. No other horse since then had been able to take Silver's place in my heart and in my mind. No other horse, that is, until Paint came along.

"Granted, I didn't know Paint as long as you did, but I will love that horse to my dying day because of his faithfulness to you… because I still have you in my life because he stood by you in that field…" She could feel herself tearing up now, knowing just how close she had come to losing Jack forever.

By this time, the sun had disappeared completely behind the mountains, and the clouds had been cleared away by slight winds. Twilight was fully upon them, and Lisa could no longer make out Jack's features in the darkness of the SUV. His hands weren't balled up quite so tightly any more. He slipped one of them over Lisa's right hand and patted it ever so gently.

"We can leave now, if you like," Lisa murmured after brushing away the moisture from her eyes.

Jack exhaled slowly and tiredly. He was suddenly feeling so exhausted, he didn't think he could bring himself to speak.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," said Lisa, guessing at his thoughts. "You know, we're closer to Fairfield right now. We could stay there tonight…"

This time, Jack did muster a reply. "No. I really need to be in my own bed tonight, Lis… But I want you to be there, too. I need you to be there. Please."

His voice was low and gravelly, as if he were barely holding in his emotions.

"All right," Lisa said with a decisive nod. "Heartland it is. And of course I'll stay with you tonight. You've just had to say goodbye to something very precious to you. This is what I signed up for when we got married, Jack: in good times and in bad times. Don't ever think you need to go through stuff like this alone."

Jack brought her hand to his lips and kissed it fervently. "Thank you," he whispered, as he lowered her hand and released it. Lisa started the ignition and swung back out onto the road, the headlights providing the only illumination as they headed for home under starry skies. The star that seemed to shine the brightest above them was the one that was named in their honour: the Jack and Lisa Star.

END