Well, here comes the next chapter. I know the story is growing sadder, but I hope you're all still enjoying it. Don't worry, there is hope at the end of the tunnel.

Chapter 21

March turned to April, which then turned to May as it died every year, but Avonlea couldn't believe that a year had passed since that day she had stepped of the stage into Virginia City. Her memories of Maine were now clouded and distant, as if Nevada had been her true home rather than the place she had been born and raised. She wasn't sure if she'd even recognize it if she went back. Only vague thoughts of her hometown remained, and few of them were pleasant: her mother's gaunt cheeks as she grew weaker and weaker after her father left, and then again when she caught consumption; her childhood friends who had each married young and rich and settled in grand mansions along the main thoroughfare; the butcher's shop where Johnny Carson had asked her to the dance only moments before cutting off his thumb with a giant knife. Still, she did remember the flower garden her mother had tended and how the daffodils used to grow right up against the house and brush against her face when she opened her window on cool spring mornings. She remembered her friend Laura's wedding and the way she had blushed a violent shade of red when her husband had kissed her in front of the assembly in the church and then laughed out loud. Looking back, Avonlea determined that she had had a good life, but it wasn't until Virginia City that she had begun to live. In Maine she had merely been an observer of what life could be if she'd let it.

Her violent coughing fits returned as Doctor Martin predicted they would, and when her thoughts weren't calling back visions of her forgotten past, her mind was constantly working on a way to tell Little Joe of her inevitable fate. The rest of the Cartwrights knew, and it wasn't fair that the man she loved should be kept in the dark any longer.

On a sunny afternoon in May, when the cool breeze seemed to counter the blistering heat of the sun, causing a warm, lazy haze to fall upon the great mountains of the Ponderosa, Avonlea led Wildfire out of her grandfather's barn and mounted up for the first time in months. When she urged the horse into a canter and then into a gallop, she felt as if she were fairly flying across the land beneath his hooves. She tore across the prairies to the familiar house she loved so dearly and rapped on the door excitedly.

"Avonlea, how good to see you," Ben said with a bright smile as he welcomed her in. "What brings you here today?"

"It's a lovely day outside, Mr. Cartwright."

Ben craned his neck over her shoulder and grinned. "I see you rode Wildfire over here."

"It had been too long. Is Little Joe here?"

He chuckled then winked. "He's in the barn saddling his horse. I reckon you had the same idea he did."

Avonlea hurried to the barn after offering a simple thank you. Little Joe stood at Cochise's side, adjusting his saddle. He turned when he heard the door open and smiled instantly at Avonlea's figure in the doorway. She wore her lovely navy blouse and mud-colored riding skirt. Her hair was done up in a loose bun and several sprigs of red hair had already fallen astray and now hung delicately about her face. She was thinner than she had been the year before, but it wasn't until now that the young man had noticed.

"You weren't about to ride over to my grandfather's by any chance, Little Joe?" she teased.

"Now how did you guess?"

"Woman's intuition."

"I don't suppose you rode Wildfire over here?"

She grinned. "He's waiting in the yard."

He mounted up then looked down at her. "Well then, Miss Summers, would you like to accompany me on a ride around the Ponderosa?"

"That sounds agreeable, Mr. Cartwright." Avonlea nodded and followed him into the yard where she mounted Wildfire, and the two trotted away from the house before breaking into a gallop.

On the banks of a pond all too familiar they stopped for a rest. Unlike the previous year, Avonlea noticed that she grew tired much sooner and had to pause frequently to catch her breath. To her surprise, Joe had already prepared for their respite, pulling out a blanket and several sandwiches from his saddlebag. She smiled sweetly and took a sip of water from his canteen, and the two sat in the very spot they had a year before, holding hands and eating their lunch.

Presently, Joe fell back against the blanket and spread his legs out in front of him, hands behind his head. He tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes to block out the sun in preparation for a doze when a sudden sprinkling of water landed on his shirt. He sat straight up to find Avonlea kneeling by the water with one hand, which glistened incriminatingly, dangerously close to the surface. He chuckled and stuck his hand in the water, returning the favor.

"Why, Little Joe, that wasn't very gentlemanly," she scolded.

"It wasn't very ladylike of you, either," he retorted.

She smiled wickedly then leaned in to kiss him.

Instantly, Joe wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her body into his as he fell back onto the blanket.

"Avonlea," he said as he twirled a strand of her loose hair around his fingertip, "you're so beautiful – the way your hair lights up in the sun like it's on fire." He kissed her again.

She grasped the brim of his hat and pulled it off of head, laying it in the grass beside them, then proceeded to run a hand through his soft brown hair.

"I wish we could always lay here like this," she whispered.

"I don't see why we can't." Joe took her hands in his and fixed his eyes upon hers determinedly. "Avonlea, there's somethin' I've been meanin' to ask you for a while now; I've just been waiting for the right time and place, but I guess this is as good a time and place as any. In fact, it's prob'ly the best place."

Avonlea knew what he was going to ask, and she also knew that she should stop him now, but she longed to hear the words so badly that she just couldn't bring herself to interrupt him.

"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, Avonlea. I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world, and the softest. I wanna protect you and care for you and provide for you. I wanna be there when you cry and every time you laugh. You have the sweetest laugh, Avonlea. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I just wanna love you and be with you all my life. I always want you by my side." The expression on his face was so ardent she felt fairly overwhelmed by his love. "Will you marry me?"

Finally she broke his gaze, tears spilling over the rim of her eyes and down her cheeks. "Oh, Joe, please don't ask me that."

He placed his hand under her chin and turned her head back around to face his. "Avonlea, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Joe!" she gasped, burying her face in his chest as her body began to rack violently with uncontrollable sobs.

"Avonlea," he whispered, arms enfolding about her instinctively, though he had no idea what had brought on the wave of tears.

"I, I can't marry you," she mumbled, and the words were muffled against his shirt.

"Are you afraid?" he asked softly.

She shook her head.

"Then what is it?" He pulled her away from his body just far enough to look into her watery eyes.

She shivered then finally managed to utter, "I-I'm dying, Joe."

"What?"

"I have consumption, just like my mother. It's highly contagious, and I tended her for over a year before she died. That's why I've been getting weaker and paler and coughing all the time. I don't know how much longer I have, but it isn't long. So you see, I can't marry you knowing I'm going to die. I won't make you a widower so young, when you have so much more of your life to live."

Joe grasped her shoulders desperately. "How long have you known about this?"

"Since New Year's."

"Why didn't you say something?" The hurt in his eyes cut her to the quick.

"Oh, Joe," she sighed, "how could I? Grandpa knew for several months before he told me. So did your father and brothers. Doc Martin told them."

"And they kept it from me?"

She saw anger beginning to burn beneath the hurt.

"They did it for our own good, Joe. They knew how much it would hurt and wanted to keep the pain from us as long as they could. My grandfather only told me when he knew he couldn't keep it from me any longer. I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I found out. Maybe I shouldn't have held it inside, but I didn't want to hurt you any sooner than you had to."

"Oh, Avonlea," Joe took her hands in his, "you should have told me. I wouldn't have wanted you to go through this alone."

"I'm not now," she said, and he kissed her gently. "I love you with all my heart, Joe, but now you know why I can't marry you."

"Avonlea, I asked you to marry me and I meant it. Your illness doesn't change anything. Whether you live two years or two hundred, I want you to be my wife. I wanna take care of you."

Tears glistened in his eyes now too and he took her in his arms once more as she shook with grief. He still wanted to marry her, even though eminent death lurked in her future. Every moment of their marriage would be filled with uncertainty, and yet he still desired to hold her close for as long as fate permitted him. It would tear him up inside, watching her waste away before his very eyes, and yet…yet he still wanted her, and always would.

Pulling away, she gazed into his eyes to find two tears dripping from them down his cheeks, and whispered, "If you'll have me, Joe."

He kissed her then with all the sweetness of a thousand lifetimes. "I want you for as long as I can have you," he said, and wrapped her in his arms once more, and the two lovers wept together.