Been a crazy year... Yes sitting on a bunch of updates, have a bunch of reading to catch up on. For those wondering why my Flint is less Poet and more country song writer/Singer two reasons one and the biggest look at Flints File card... then examine when he was created in the early eighties. Check out Kris Kristofferson's biography, Rhodes Scholar, Helicopter Pilot, and Army Veteran.

As always I don't own... If you don't like well . I really don't care.

Coffey County Hospital Children's Wing

22 years ago

"Em, slow down," Jason Faireborn's voice rumbled in her ears, but, the willowy blond was not about to slow down.

The hospital halls were eerily quiet as Emily Faireborn made her way to the Information Desk. A familiar face looked up from her notes, studied Mrs. Faireborn's breathless state, and frowned. "Emily, I'm glad to see you; but by now, after your three girls, you should know that Maternity is two floors up."

Emily took a deep breath in the hopes to be able to talk. All she wanted to do was to tell the nurse that 'No, she didn't need Maternity. She was here for something much more important.' Unfortunately, a small foot on her diaphragm was not helping her get a deep breath.

Jason, her husband; calm as a cucumber, reached the desk and joked. "She's in a new event for the July Fourth Picnic: Speed Waddling." He smiled, ignoring her black look. "She has three more months before number four is born." He placed his calloused hand lovingly on her stomach.

Emily still couldn't catch a breath. Ashley's foot was playing soccer with her innards. "No... I'm... here... because Christopher over at Rock called me."

The nurse sighed closing her eyes, saying a prayer. "Em, don't tell me..."

"The OD was Nicole," Emily Faireborn was barely keeping her thoughts together. She instinctively touched her stomach, taking solace from the little girl that was already making her presence known. What had her not having a break down was the seven-year-old on the other side of the double doors. "Her son, Dash? That's why we are here. I was told..."

Emily closed her eyes, not wanting to repeat in front of her husband what Chris had told her about the little boy's condition. If she did, her normally calm husband would leave her standing there, go collect his shotgun, and kill that no good father of Dash's.

Amy gave her a bittersweet smile. "That little boy is a cutie; he already has all the nurses fawning over him." Amy sighed. "Room 215. His grandfather is already in there, looking... lost."

Emily nodded, thanking her friend. This morning's phone call had floored her. She had no knowledge of what shape her little sister's family had been in. How had she not known? They had just talked three days ago, and Nicole had sounded fine, not...

She sighed and shook her head; what mattered was what she could do now. Her sister was dead, and the no-good husband of hers was going to jail for a long time.

She shoved the blame and the anger aside, as a tall man in jeans and button-up shirt came into view. The older man's long black hair streaked with gray, and his brown eyes watchful, filled with such pain and sadness. "Running Bear?"

He looked up at her as if he had encountered a ghost. His eyes took her in: the maternity jeans and her Sheriff's Deputy shirt, that stretched tight against her belly. Emily realized she might need to go up another size. Having still put it off as her maternity leave was scheduled only two weeks from now. As it was, she was on desk duty; filling out reports, catching up on paperwork, and even helping Sheriff Dobbs with filings to the State and Federal Government.

"You look like Nicole only..." he shook his head as if trying to get the memory out of his mind.

"I'm her sister." She smiled. "We met at their wedding."

He nodded and then turned back "I am sorry for your loss, I hope she has found whatever she was searching for."

She poked her head into the hospital room; sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed was a little boy, small and malnourished. He had a hospital gown around his waist and the sight of his back… all it took was a glance. The bile rising up her throat caused her to look away.

"They should be glad my worthless son is in jail," Running Bear snarled. "I would have killed him, otherwise."

Running Bear turned and leaned up against the wall. "The little guy is lovable as ever." He looked like he was about to cry. "He is more worried about not getting his book back to the library. He kept saying he didn't have money for the fine. The only way to get him to go with Officer Mason was the officer had to put it in the book drop for him. He doesn't even know it's July 4th."

He watched as a nurse smile at them and walked into to the room holding a tray of ice cream. The three of them listened as she asked the little boy what flavor of Ice Cream he wanted: Vanilla, Chocolate, or Strawberry.

He blinks "I don't know, I've never had ice cream, that I remembered," he added.

The young nurse examined the boy the spooned out a spoonful of each flavor, Dashiell carefully tried each flavor his eyes lighting up with excitement and pleasure. "I like it all, but I think Strawberry is my favorite."

"Here a bowl of just strawberry." The nurse walked back out and smiled at them, then stopped. "He's a sweetheart."

They looked back in as he positioned the bowl on his leg and took a spoonful, placing it in his mouth, letting it melt. Then, back to the book he was reading.

"I found out from Social Services, that he hasn't been to School. Ever." Running Bear growled. "Nobody noticed."

Emily wondered how her sister had kept up the charade. How had she, a Sheriff's deputy, not found out? She then remembered; Nicole had mentioned Home Schooling. "I thought she had him in a program designed for Native American kids, so they learn more about their culture."

Running Bear snorted, "I've seen those, but that boy ain't got a clue about his heritage. I went to that house; Dash has two pairs of shorts, three pairs of socks, two shirts: one too small and one too big. A pair of shoes that he taped with scotch tape to keep together. There were no school books, no paper, nothing like that. He didn't even have toothpaste or soap. He had been eating white rice for god knows how long." He watched as the little boy took another bite of strawberry ice cream, giggle, and then turning back to his book.

"How the hell, if that kid never went to school, can he read a Stephen King Novel?" Running Bear asked them.

"Jessie would flip through paperbacks when she was little, pretending to be an adult." Jason shrugged.

"He understands it." Running Bear told them, "He wanted to know about Tommy Knockers."

"You're still letting him read it?" Jason asked. "That book gave me nightmares."

Emily had to admit that Stephen King was not her choice, but something told her that this was the best choice the nurses could find for him. "Can we see him?"

"Before you do, I have a favor to ask," Running Bear looked at her. She stopped and noticed in his expression that this was important. He looked at his hands, and she noticed a tear fall onto the floor.

"Of course." She smiled. Emily reached over rubbing his arm, coaxing him to ask whatever he needed.

"That kid is too smart. The tribe will want him... but he... I know it's a lot to ask, I'm willing to help." He looked like the question was tearing him apart. Then, he finished and, as he did it seemed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. " If I disavow knowledge and say he's not Jacob's…"

"Then the tribe..." Emily knew exactly what he was proposing.

"I know you have your girls; Nicole had talked about them," He sighed. "I've got money saved up. Our schools, they… you can give him more advantages. Once the adoption is finalized, I will claim him again. No money will come out of your pocket. I just need him…"

"Aunt EMILY!" Dashiell had realized she was standing in the hallway outside his door. With a giggle, he jumped out of the bed, raced over to her. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement, as he slid to a stop in front of her.

Emily watched his brows furrow, looking at her quizzically and then down at his arms. The little guy was working out that he did not have the reach to give her a proper hug. In an adorable whisper, he admitted, "My arms are too little."

It took some effort, but she got down on her knees. "How's this big guy?"

Dashiell nodded; wrapping his arms around her neck, carefully, she hugged him back. Emily's heart broke when she noticed how long he held on to her. He finally let go and gave her a wide, slightly crooked smile, "I'm very glad to see you."

Jason looked down at him, "Where's my hug?"

Her heart broke as the young boy looked up at her husband, scared. Jason hid the hurt in his face; here was her love, her heart with his Bo Duke, Country Boy good looks. He had the kindest soul she knew of any man. She watched as the man took a knee next to her, as Dash examined him.

Jason stayed very still, the little boy watched him, wary. Emily heard a sob from Dash; she watched as the seven-year-old flung himself into Jason's chest, melting into him. Her heart wrenched, and she had to take gulping breaths to stop from breaking down and crying.

She and her little sister had never been close. There was something about Nicole that had always scared Emily, selfish and uncaring, Emily never thought her sister would be as bad as she was.

Finally, she watched her husband stand up, the little boy still in his arms and walked to a rocking chair in the middle of the ward. Dash had fallen asleep, his head on Jason's shoulder. Her husband, in a soft whisper, "I will call Mark, the family lawyer, in the morning to start the process."

Running Bear nodded, mouthing, "Thank You."

"Now, Emily, it looks like I'm stuck, could you please go find out when we can take home the newest addition to the Faireborn family." He said rocking softly, singing in his rich voice, Rose of My Heart.

Twenty-four Years Later

"John, I will not concede to your point." Emily Faireborn said, following the Chief of Police of Udall into the Sheriffs Satellite office.

"Spoken like a true politician, Em." He chuckled.

"I am not a politician, and you know it." She growled. "That's why I am not going to run for Congress, that's absurd."

"Look, Morrison has been up there in D.C. for twenty years, and his farm just went Corporate. Corporate, dammit!" John Miller, Chief of Police said, disgusted. Turning to her, he gave her a pointed look. "You understand the challenges of this area. All I'm saying is there are many people that would like to see you represent this district."

Emily turned and blinked, "You know, that is the same speech Jason gave me last night, verbatim. "

"Okay, so when I say we… I mean the guys at the co-op talked about." He looked at her sheepishly.

"Let me guess, my Father and Running Bear was head of that conversation." Her father and her son's grandfather seemed to have it in their head that she was the perfect candidate to oppose Morrison. The current Congressman was up for re-election next year, somehow her family, friends and now the town of Udall were jumping on Emily Faireborn for Congress, bandwagon.

"Running Bear did start the conversation," John admitted. "But it makes sense. Look at everything you have accomplished here, and you are an upstanding citizen, plus. People like you."

She turned, stopping his entrance into her office, arms akimbo. "How much did my dad pay you?"

"Thirty percent off my feed for the next year," He winced, then added, "Only if I can get you to run."

She stared at him and growled. He continued quickly, "You have your parties support. I talked to Walter at the weekly Square Dance at the VFW." John grinned, "He thinks it is a great idea."

She took the files, signing off on requisitions, memos, and two warrants. John patiently stood waiting for her to finish. Emily sighed, realizing this conversation was far from over. Turning, she stared at him; he gave her his most charming smile.

"It helps that you and your family have a spotless record." He continued. "We all know about Morrison's granddaughter's shoplifting scandal."

"She's ten, and it was a pack of gum," Emily blinked. "The only one of my kids that didn't pull that kind of stunt was Dashiell. Don't forget he spent the weekend in a jail cell in Texas. Let's not even get into Aubrey and the Mexican Prison."

"Dash? That jail time was when he was called something that nobody should be called," John shook his head. "It's a good thing Marissa isn't alive to realize what an asswipe that Sneedon boy is."

"Did you not put my son in a cell once?" Emily remembered the night of her son's class reunion; he had left his childhood home looking every inch a soldier.

The next morning her son covering himself up with a pillow looking stricken, asking if she brought him clothes. She hadn't and told him he would have to do the world's greatest Walk of Shame. How she wished this was some college prank, or even him blowing off steam when he came home to visit after graduating Basic Training.

No, he was sharing the cell with his three childhood best friends: Mike, a former Army Sergeant and now one of the most sought-after horse trainers in the tri-state area, Baker, the county's ADA, and Luca, her son-in-law. All looking contrite and all naked.

"Look that boy is a good kid, everyone in this town gets a night in that cell, even you did." John pointed out. "Class of 1984, five-year reunion, so what? When he gets drunk, his clothes fall off? My wife has the same problem. With him it could be a helluva lot worst; you and Jason did an amazing job with an amazing boy."

"Is that why you're always getting your wife drunk? So, you can get lucky?" Emily purposely ignored the part about her son. John was right, Dashiell was a great son. He did have one quality that she, nor her husband, had a clue where it came from; the boy had an ego that took up its own time zone.

"You ladies at the book club talk too much." He waved his finger at her. "But trust me, Dashiell, you will find, will be an asset. Everyone is still talking about the press conference he held last week after another one of those Cobra plots."

Emily groaned. "Do me a favor don't tell him what a good job he did. We won't be able to live with him; his ego will take up the whole house. The next time he visits, we will be forced to sleep in the yard."

"Emily, you love him, and just consider what he could be like. Besides, the kid doesn't boast about anything that isn't true, and he gets away with it because he brags about everyone else's achievements, too." John said, taking the paperwork the Chief of Police came in for. "In short, you and Jason did an amazing job raising that kid, even if he has an ego and runs around naked."

"But, Chief, sometimes they just have to swing free." A husky voice said to cause them both to turn and look.

Emily stood, gaped mouth, just to have the handsome young man push her chin up to close her slacked jaw. "You can breathe momma."

She let out a squeal, not caring if it sounded a little girly. "The Sergeant I talked to said nothing about you coming here."

"I asked her to let me surprise you," he chuckled. She squeezed around his neck and hung there. "Mom. I. Can't. Breath. Light… fading… fast…"

She let him go and shook her head at him. "How long have you been listening?"

"Long enough to hear how amazing Police Chief Harris thinks I am," he smiled widely. John shrugged when Emily glared at him. "You spent time in the pokey? Mom, you rebel you, do you have the striped suit?"

She hit her son on the arm. "Dashiell Faireborn, watch it."

He tugged at a piece of Emily's hair that had escaped her bun. She returned the gesture by tugging at his ear, a little too roughly. He rubbed it giving her a black look when she let go. "I agree with Mr. Harris and the men at the Co-op; you should run for Congress."

"I am not a politician," she reminded her son.

"That's why you would be perfect for the job." he sobered. "Look, Mom, this new unit I'm in, I have to deal with career politicians; sometimes I wonder if they are more worried about getting votes than the needs of the voters."

"I want to spend time with your father, not be in DC while he struggles with the ranch alone." she pointed out. "Dash, his heart attack last year…"

"I know. But Jessie and Luca are ready and willing to take over the farm. It's their turn, and if you won a Congressional seat, Dad wouldn't let you go by yourself. He'd be too afraid that some suave man about town might try and snap you up. I know Dad, and this is the excuse we need to get him to slow down and enjoy a well-deserved retirement."

She took her son's face in her hands. "We will have a family meeting before anything is decided." She looked at him "Now, let's talk about something we can take care of the problem over the Green's house."

He gave her a look, through narrowed eyes. Emily knew the conversation was far from over, in her son's mind. Thankfully he nodded and pulled her over to a man and woman that were watching the scene with curiosity. "This is Charlie Iron-Knife, but we call him Spirit, and you have spoken on the phone with Lady Jaye."

This young woman was not what Emily expected; small, with shoulder-length brown hair. The brunette possessed a smile that screamed she was up to something and her warm chocolate eyes, that took up half of her face, shown with intelligence. Excusing the fact that Emily was positive that the woman's true eye color wasn't brown, she was adorable.

Emily held her hand out and charmed by the young woman's bubbly smile.

"Yes, we have, Sergeant Hart-Burnett; most people call me Lady Jaye." Her accent had surprised the Sheriff on the phone; hearing it in person, memories of her grandmother came to mind.

"Well, I expect we better get this show on the road." Emily smiled brightly. "Dash, I hope you remember how to get home from here?"

Emily watched her son act confused, "Is it a right at the bucket or a left at the beat-up Ford."

"Mark sold the Ford ten months ago," Emily explained, the meaning was clear, he didn't come home nearly as much as he should.

Thank goodness, her son looked contrite. But then, to her exasperation, his orneriness took over with his blue eyes sparkling he grinned, "Great, now I am going to get really lost."