Epilogue: Legacy

The scream that split the air wasn't quite human, and Jamie rushed to Rose's side, grasping her hand and smoothing back her sweaty hair.

Her voice was weak and raspy, and she reached a trembling hand out to clutch her husband's shirt, pulling down fiercely on the fabric so that she wouldn't have to speak in tones above a whisper.

"Name him for my father if it's a boy, and after your mother if it's a girl…tell the baby about me…OWWWWW!" the gentle words disappeared into another ear splitting scream.

Jonathan Monroe, who upon request had traveled back to Sweetwater just over a year after seeing them wed to deliver Rose's first child, coaxed her through the next pain and then relaxed when she lay back on the pillow, flushed and panting.

"I love you Jamie," she whispered pitifully, groping for his hand.

Jamie's face drained of color as he looked first to Lou's ashen face, then at the doctor that had brought him into the world.

Jonathan surprised them all by chuckling, "Don't worry, Jamie. They all think they are going to die about this time. She's doing well."

"How would you know? You're not doing anything to help me but sitting there! If you tell me to push one more time, I swear to the almighty God I'm going to kick you in the head!" Rose growled, her knuckles going white on the bed sheet as she writhed and screamed at another pain. They were close now. She knew they either had to stop, or she had to die.

"Oh Rose, I'm sorry, I wish it could be me," Jamie murmured soothingly, touching her cheek.

She jerked away from his touch, "I wish it could be you too you bastard! This is all your fault! I-I am never going to bed with you again!"

Despite her worry and memories of her own near-death experience in childbirth, Lou laughed at Jamie's stricken look at that bit of news. She doubted a red-blooded woman like Rose would stick to her word never to share her bed with her husband again but his horror at the suggestion told her that Rose and her son were well-matched indeed.

Rachel let herself into the room slowly with a fresh pot of boiling water and a stack of blankets.

"Welcome! Welcome to the show! Is there anyone else who would like to come see me here like a beached whale with my legs in the air?" Rose snapped, "Twenty-seven hours I've been here! What more can you possibly want from me? Let me die in peace and dignity!"

Just as quickly as she'd been screaming, she was suddenly crying, and holding hard to Jamie, "Oh Jamie, I'm so sorry. I love you! I didn't mean any of it! I don't want to die!"

Jamie looked down at her with something between a smile and a grimace as another pain rocked her and she clamped with incredible strength for someone who'd been in labor for so long onto his arm. He knew he'd have bruises, and knowing her pain was many times greater wasn't helping for the moment.

Jonathan stood up and nodded, "Okay Rose, we're getting close! You're gonna need to push when I tell you too, alright? Not before. You're doing great, sweetheart. In just a minute you'll be holding your new baby."

Rose sobbed when she felt that her lower body was being separated from the rest of her, and trembled with restraint of not pushing, despite the natural instinct that made her desperate to.

"Rose, now!"

Rose screamed until her throat was hoarse and continued to push, grasping onto Jamie, sure she'd die any moment.

And then, another scream filled the air. A scream from tiny, but obviously healthy lungs.

Silence prevailed among the adults in the room as the infant wailed, possibly, Rose thought, the most precious sound in all the world. Tears touched her eyes though she had never been overly emotional about babies and especially screaming ones.

"It's a girl," Jonathan announced with a smile, "And a big healthy one at that."

Jamie had long ago decided that the most tender moment in his life had occurred on his wedding night, but he dispelled that notion when a few minutes later, a tiny bundle was placed into his arms.

There was no stopping the tears in his eyes at that point, nor did he try as he looked at his daughter. She was incredibly red, slightly misshapen, and not altogether happy about being born from the looks of things.

With a smile and a peek at her granddaughter, Lou motioned everyone out of the room for a few minutes. A parade could have marched through the bedroom and Jamie would have not noticed, so intent was he on his child.

Jamie brought a finger up to touch the tiny flailing hand, and his eyes opened wide in surprise when minute fingers curled around his with surprising force. He looked at the tiny little nail beds, perfectly formed. Life had never seemed so fragile.

"Hello," he said, not sure what else he should do in way of introducing himself, "I'm your Daddy."

The words were accompanied by tears of joy pouring down his face.

Rose watched the scene with a peaceful smile, the demons that gripped her moments ago gone with the pain. The bundle was so small in Jamie's large arms, and yet, Rose had little doubt who the boss was already.

Jamie walked to her and sat on the bed, reluctantly laying the infant in Rose's arms. Her tears spilled rapidly as she shook her head, "My God, Jamie. We made her. She's ours."

Jamie leaned over and kissed Rose gently on the lips, "Yes we did. And I have to thank you for her. I hope you don't take exception to this, but she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Rose laughed and sniffed, "How can I compete with her? She's perfect, isn't she?" She looked over her daughter carefully, wanting to know every detail, "Did you see her eyes?" Rose asked him finally, "They are blue, just like yours."

"But she's got your mouth…and your nose. Just smaller," Jamie said with his gift for the obvious.

Rose nodded and giggled slightly, giddy with the weariness and the joy.

"What should we call her?" Jamie asked.

"Louise for certain," Rose said firmly.

Jamie nodded in agreement. "What about your mother? What was her name?"

Rose's eyes turned down and she turned inward on her thoughts. Her own mother had never cared much for her, but in her remarkable Dream, or whatever it had been with her father, he'd told her of a woman that was full and life and happiness. Would she feel differently about her own child if Jamie wasn't by her side now? She shook her head. She couldn't imagine not loving this child, with or without Jamie there. But still, she could appreciate finally the struggle her mother had been through to do it alone, although it had been her choice.

"What about Jemma...for my father. And for you?"

"Jemma Louise McCloud," Jamie murmured.

"We'll call her Jem?" Rose suggested.

"We will," Jamie nodded.

Rose nodded in agreement, sighing, "Oh Jamie, let's have lots more babies."

Jamie laughed, "This coming from the woman who declared she'd never share my bed again just moments ago? I don't know if I can survive another birthing Rose! Do you see my arm?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "You poor dear. I hope you recover quickly. Is that a no?"

Jamie shook his head, "I don't think I could ever deny you what you wished."

Rose reached out to stroke his face and smiled, "And I can never deny you."

For a moment they sat, until the baby began squalling, and Rose realized she was hungry.

Jamie thought his heart would explode in his chest as he watched Rose awkwardly bring the baby to nurse with fascination. Eventually, both got the hang of it and their daughter fell asleep at Rose's breast.

Jamie eagerly took Jemma back, still sitting at Rose's side.

"Where in the world did this black hair come from? Wonder if she'll keep it?"

"My mother had black hair," a gentle voice at the door said softly.

"So did mine," another added.

Jamie and Rose looked to see Lou and Kid standing shyly in the doorway.

"Come meet your granddaughter, Jemma Louise McCloud," Rose invited them with a warm smile, and they needed no further incentive. Lou and Kid's eyes shone with tears as they cooed over the child with Lou and Jimmy's name.

"I think Jimmy's mother had dark hair too. I remember seeing a portrait of her once at Celinda's house," Kid said softly as he took his granddaughter into his arms.

"She's going to be a beauty," Lou said with a smile, "What color are her eyes?"

"Blue. Like Kid's, and Jamie's," Rose smiled, "Maybe a little darker. Almost violet, but I imagine they'll change a little."

"Jamie's never did," Lou responded and shook her head in amazement at this day, this life she lived.

The world and time moved too fast. Lou looked at Kid as he bent over Jemma talking nonsense. It seemed only hours ago she'd opened her eyes and seen Jamie for the very first time, in Kid's arms as he looked out the window at the plantation grounds. As Kid slipped Jem into her own arms, she might have been holding Jamie, Jamie who was now well over six feet tall, again.

It had gone by in the blink of an eye and she would not trade her life for anything but she wouldn't mind if it had just slowed down good bit, she thought.

In the next few minutes, Teaspoon, Rachel, Cody, Buck, Patrick, and Seth all crept into the room to have a peek at the newborn. Rose watched them all with heavy lids and a soft smile and accepted their kisses and good wishes like a benevolent queen. Jamie watched Rose, looked at the dark circles under her eyes and marveled at the pain she'd so quickly forgotten after giving him his daughter.

Lou was marveling too as she looked around her. Four generations of them were within one room. Granted along the way some of them had been lost, and had been reduced to memories held within the vaults of the heart. Today, they were found again, shining out now from an infant's pure blue eyes. Noah, Ike, Jimmy…all of them lived in her.

Unexpectedly, another of their lost boys crossed her heart, as he did from time to time, with the same surge of guilt, pain, and anger. A tall, gangly boy who had been lost long before she had found him. Jesse.

They'd had news of him over the years, all of it bad, and news of his death had hit her and Rachel hard. She marveled at how Kid had been able to close his heart to the boy who had grown into a monster after his role in Noah's death. Teaspoon, too, had let his disappointment shield his grief. But the mother's heart in her still remembered his blue eyes filled with sadness and mischief and sweet humor and she had grieved both the life he chose and death he died as she knew Jimmy would have, Jimmy who so desperately had tried to turn him off the path he was hellbent on traveling. She had been glad of Jimmy's death only once and that was on the day she heard about Jesse's. If fate had folded differently, Jesse might have been there with them celebrating life instead of moldering in an early grave. For good or bad, better or worse, Jesse James was intertwined with their legacy.

Teaspoon's generation had carved out the West, built and shaped it into a land of opportunity and promise.

Her own generation had bridged the sea of grass and danger between East and West, but also opened gaps between North and South.

Rose and Jamie's generation was still making its mark, expanding with amazing speed, rebuilding what her generation had ripped asunder to bleed the evil of slavery from the land, seemingly learning the same evil endured and was turned toward the Indians as progress turned Westward. They would be tasked with protecting the West their fathers and mothers had built.

All of them had done it with the aid of an unbreakable force that had spanned the years, that would outlive time itself. A bond so strong that it sang within their bodies and coursed in their veins, as much a part of them as life's blood that kept them alive. It was love. It was family.

What pages would the fourth generation contribute to their story? What triumphs, what adventures, what dangers, what loves, what legacy rested in the chapters behind Jemma Louise McCloud's closed eyes?

Time would tell her story too.

Close by, on a windswept bluff with a spectacular view of the now rich grass that rolled all the way up to the majestic Rocky Mountains stood five simple, solitary crosses. Even a prairie fire hadn't dared to disturb their sanctity.

Starkly outlined against a lavender sky, they stood like sentinels between the ranch where the people who had lovingly erected them went about their lives and the horizon, where day after day was lost to the night, bringing them all closer to reuniting in the next world.

It was at the foot of one of these five crosses, even as the days grew shorter and the nights grew colder, that a tiny flower bravely pushed through the soil and stood proudly at the base of the monument, enjoying the shelter it offered from strong west winds.

James Butler Hickok were the words carved in the cross, and wild was the rose that grew there year after year after year.

Note: Finally complete! This was such a labor of love so many years ago, and it did me good to revisit it, like seeing an old friend after so long away. If you stuck with me through all those chapters, would love to know what you thought about Jamie, Rose, and Jemma's story!