Title: Contentus

Warnings/Spoilers: Alternate Reality

Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters and premises of many talented people. Essentially - not ours, no profit being made, etc. This is just for fun.

Thanks to Con for betaing. All errors are our own.

~o~0~o~

1844

Murdoch looked down at the young woman standing beside him. There were so many and varied reasons for not asking; and truly he hadn't planned on it. But he honestly didn't think he could survive without her.

"Catherine, will you marry me?"

Startled, surprised, she looked up at him as he moved to stand in front of her. "Murdoch?"

"Will you marry me?"

"You actually asked!" She looked delighted, and then turned serious. "I was afraid I was going to have to ask you." Then she smiled in a way that made him feel boneless. "Yes, I will marry you."

Hugging her and swinging her about in that Boston park was the happiest moment of his life.

~o~0~o~

1846

"We are going to have a baby."

"Wh..what?"

"I believe sometime in late August or September."

"A baby?"

"Yes, dear."

"A baby."

"I am hoping that you want to fill the large hacienda of our dreams with more than furniture and knickknacks."

~o~0~o~

1849

Murdoch had felt empty and lonely for so long that it took him awhile to realize he was attracted to the flirting, teasing, Mexican woman. She warmed up the cold places he had held onto for so long.

"Maria, will you marry me?"

She gazed up at him with dark brown eyes and smiled. "Si."

He hugged her gently; aware of the child she carried.

~o~0~o~

1850

The little critter was wailing, covered with the results of a messy birth, and irritated with the world at large.

Murdoch couldn't remember seeing anything as beautiful, as he held his second born for the first time.

He doubted that feeling would ever change.

~o~0~o~

1851

Murdoch had only the briefest of moments to appreciate what an adorable little gentleman his first son was on his fifth birthday.

~o~0~o~

1865

Johnny wobbled, more so from having remained in bed than the wound itself. He begrudgingly allowed Murdoch to steady him; although, his son was careful not to move too quickly.

Johnny had lost weight, his hair was a tangled mess, and the bandage was a stark reminder of how close he had come to losing the boy; but Murdoch remembered thinking his son was beautiful so long ago.

That feeling hadn't changed.

~o~0~o~

1865

Murdoch knew the moment he saw the light-haired young man sitting on the bench with Johnny that Scott, still looking every inch a gentleman, was finally in California.

In a moment he would touch his son; and his son would know that this time the man greeting him was his father.

~o~0~o~

1866

Watching his sons walk to the horses, Murdoch marveled at the differences in them from those early days. Johnny was now open, vibrant, and walking with an easy grace: His habitual wariness wasn't in evidence when he was on the ranch. Scott was now strong and healthy, still slim; but he always would be. His shoulders were straight, squared and his strides were smooth.

Murdoch couldn't hear what was being said, but he watched the light and dark heads meet together in laughter. Johnny hooked his right arm around Scott's neck, tugging him close in a rough hug. Scott wrapped his left arm around Johnny's shoulders. Their grins were equal parts good humor and plotting mischief – probably something a father should be concerned about, but he really wasn't.

Murdoch could count the number of times he had been truly happy and content in the past years.

He knew he'd lose count from now on.

~The End~