Elizabeth reached over, expecting to find Nathan where he always was in the middle of the night, warm, and next to her. But when she moved her hand further, the sheets were cold.

She opened her eyes and waited until they adjusted to the dark. The bedroom door was open and there was just the slightest flickering on the walls of the living room at the end of the hall.

Breathing deeply, she put her feet on the floor and found her slippers, then she stood and put on her robe. She padded quietly down the hall and turned to the living room.

The fire that Nathan had banked before they'd gone to bed had been revived and was the only light in the room. It danced across the walls, the floor, the sofa, and Nathan's face as he sat before it.

He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, and for a moment she stood there soundlessly, watching him. The lines on his face were thrown into deep relief by the light of the fire.

Elizabeth didn't want to startle him, so she whispered, "Nathan?"

He turned sharply and took a deep breath. "Elizabeth."

Walking toward him, she said, "You can't sleep?"

Nathan exhaled and rubbed his face with his hands, "No. I'm sorry if I woke you."

She sat next to him and ran her fingers through his hair tenderly, trying to make some order of it. Nathan had a tendency, when he was troubled, of threading both hands across his thick hair; and right now it looked as if he'd been very troubled.

Elizabeth said softly, "I only woke up because you weren't next to me. What's keeping you up? Do you want to talk about it?"

Nathan turned to her and gazed into her eyes, lit only by the firelight, for a long time. Elizabeth knew him so well, and though at the beginning she'd felt a need to prompt him when he was silent, she knew now that he was only thinking of how best to say something, or if he should even say it at all.

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, and then closed it, saying, "It's nothing."

Elizabeth smiled. She reached a hand up and touched his face. "We're back to that, are we?"

He looked down and laughed softly. "That worked for a while," he said. "I could always tell it bothered you, but it bought me some time until I could sort out my thoughts."

She smiled at him. "Which could sometimes take days."

He looked sideways at her. "I had a lot of thoughts," he said. "Most of them about you. And very mixed up."

She hugged his arm tightly. "I'll still give you time if you want it. But what's keeping you awake is clearly something. I just want you to know I'm ready to listen if you want to talk." Elizabeth sat back on the sofa and Nathan leaned back and joined her. He put his arm around her and she nestled her head comfortably on his shoulder.

For a few minutes they simply stared at the fire. Elizabeth knew that Nathan was still troubled, but that her presence was giving him some comfort, so she felt no need to press.

Finally, he spoke. At first, it was as if he was simply musing, making general comments. "Men are raised to be strong, to be in control, to be good providers. Protectors." Then it got personal. "I learned that early, with Dad gone and a sister and a mother in the house. I always doubted myself, but I learned not to show it."

Elizabeth tightened her hold on his hand briefly and then relaxed it. He felt it and squeezed back.

There were always so many things Elizabeth wanted to say in these moments. She wanted to reassure him, let him know how good he was at everything, build him up. But this wasn't about her reassurances, this was about Nathan expressing his fears. Elizabeth had to hold back her need to be nice, to be supportive, to talk, so that Nathan could find the best way to do that.

We don't learn new things when we talk. We learn when we listen. It was a lesson she tried to teach her students, and she followed it herself now.

Nathan sighed. "A little over a year ago, I had two responsibilities. Raising Allie and keeping Hope Valley safe. I focused on those two things. They were challenging, but they were manageable. I was lonely..." he turned and kissed her forehead, "...and I loved you from a distance, but my life wasn't very complicated."

Elizabeth nodded on his shoulder. Now she struggled with the next part of listening. This is not about me, it's about him. She felt a little hurt creeping in, and she wanted to sit up and say, Yes, I know I've complicated your life, but now we do things together, and there's strength in that, too.

But she stayed silent. Listening. And the benefit of that was that he heard what he'd just said, and refined it.

Nathan turned to her and looked into her eyes. Even by the firelight she could see the profound love there.

"I love this life, Elizabeth. More than I will ever be able to express to you." He put his hand on her cheek. "You are my life now, and that's... that's the point..."

Elizabeth tilted her head, becoming aware of what his sleeplessness was about.

"I can't lose you," he said suddenly, his eyes soft in the firelight. "But at the same time, I'm powerless to do anything about it. I think you know that I would stand in front of you and take a bullet without a second thought, but this..." Nathan reached down and touched her tenderly. "How can I already love them so much and also be so terrified of what they might do to you..."

There it was. The thing that kept him awake. Elizabeth looked into his stricken eyes and then put her arms around him and held tight.

"It's not fair that you can't feel what I'm feeling." Elizabeth said softly into his ear. She pulled back and looked at him, searching for the right words. "I have this sense of well-being, of rightness, of being in step with everything around me." She put her hand down on her stomach. "This... miracle... of life growing. I wish you could live in my heart for just one minute and you'd understand that everything is going to be okay." She touched his face. "I'm going to be okay, Nathan. And so are they. Little Ty and Bernie," she said, smiling.

Nathan raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak. Then he exhaled. "I was going to say you can't know that. But I guess you just told me that you can."

She nodded and smiled at him. "Maybe it's something God provides so I can concentrate on being a happy place for these two to grow. I've certainly prayed about it enough," she said softly. "All I know is that I see it. I see us all complete as a family." She stopped and laughed softly.

Nathan frowned and smiled back at her. "What?"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Well, unless the Tigers allow girls on their team... I'm seeing Ty and Bernice."

Nathan tilted his head at her, but he was still smiling. "You can't possibly know that," he said, shaking his head.

Elizabeth laughed. "I'm growing two human beings in here, which is already beyond our comprehension when you think about it too closely – and you think there are hard and fast rules about all this?"

Nathan laughed too. "Point taken."

"And," she said, smiling, "The odds are with me. I told you Carson was in my classroom today talking about biology? The children were fascinated with the idea of twins. They had a hard time imagining a boy and a girl being twins, and Carson said that's what happens most of the time when they're fraternal."

Nathan smiled. "Sarah always said we were special because we were twins but we were so different." He raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Not so special after all, then?"

"Still very rare. And very special," Elizabeth said softly.

Nathan turned and looked at the fire again.

"Nathan," Elizabeth said, leaning forward and putting her hand on his shoulder. "I understand, and honestly, if I didn't have this maternal euphoria going on, I would probably worry just as much as you are. I did worry somewhat with little Jack, but I went through it by myself, and I was still grieving, so it was hard to sort it all out."

He turned to her and held on tightly to her hand. "I have no idea how you got through that without Jack. And you call me brave." He put his arm around her.

"We do what we have to do. I have no idea how you can just get on Bear and ride off to find people in blizzards," she said, smiling.

Nathan shook his head, laughing. "If the choice is the blizzard or doing this...?" he said, looking down, "I'll take the blizzard any day."

"How can I convince you not to worry?"

"I don't know if you can," he said simply. "I love you too much. But I do feel better knowing that you're sure it will be alright." He leaned back on the couch and took her with him. "And it does feel better to talk about it with you. So, as long as it doesn't bother you, maybe just let me moan about it every once in a while?"

Elizabeth smiled. "You never moan. You think things through very carefully and you have feelings about them. Absolutely understandable feelings."

Elizabeth snuggled up against him and they both watched the fire for a while.

Nathan sighed. "I miss the porch swing. Everything seems simpler in a porch swing, doesn't it?"

Elizabeth leaned up and kissed his cheek. "It does. And when spring comes, we'll sit in it again."

Then she looked around the living room, assessing the space, as he watched her. "Unless... you want to bring it inside." They looked at each other and stood. Without talking, they went quietly into the sunroom, not wanting to wake anyone up.

Because the sunroom mimicked the porch on that side of the house, it was a long room. And the swing was free-standing. They only had the light of the full moon outside the windows, but they could see well enough to measure with their eyes. Nathan turned to Elizabeth and raised his eyebrows. "I really think it would fit," he whispered.

Elizabeth saw him narrow his eyes at the size of the door and then he looked through the window at the snow-covered lump outside. She could recognize a man on a mission, so she peered at the clock on top of the bookshelves. "Nathan, it's 3:45 in the morning," she whispered.

He pulled her into a hug. "No, not now. But once Chester gets up, all bets are off."

Elizabeth looked up into his eyes and both of them smiled.

"Go back to bed and warm it up for me," Nathan said softly. "I'll bank the fire and be there in a minute."

Nathan still held her by the arms as he gazed at her, his eyes blue in the moonlight. "How is it that you can help me move from what felt like absolute despair to this? To hope, and to thinking about porch swings and spring?" He ran his fingers through her curls, loose around her shoulders.

She tapped his forehead. "It's all in here. You know the world can be a good place. You've always known it. The fact is, now the world you live in is reflecting that back to you, and you're afraid to lose it." She leaned up and kissed him softly. "I'm telling you you're not going to lose it. It's just going to keep getting better and better."

"My angel Elizabeth," he said, bending to kiss her again. He held her there for a long moment and then moved his lips to her cheek.

"I'll be right in," he whispered. As she walked down the hall toward the bedroom, Nathan made his way silently to the living room to bank the fire.

When the flames had turned to embers, he walked from the living room to the harvest table, gazing around at the abundance of his life. His warm house, the photos on the walls that told the story of his life with Elizabeth, the children, and now Archie, and the soft glow of the streetlights from the town beyond.

Nathan knew that Elizabeth was right. Even before his father left and he lost Sarah, Nathan had always fought the darkness that came on the heels of good things; the fear that he would lose them.

But from the moment he'd met Elizabeth, what had he lost? Nothing. He'd only gained. Family, friends, a place in this community, and now, more children.

He used to anticipate losses, thinking if he did, it wouldn't be such a shock if it happened. And if it didn't happen, then it was just a bonus. But that's not the way he wanted to live his life anymore.

If bad things happened, he and Elizabeth would face them together, but as Nathan stood and looked out at the mist on the pond under the full moon, he decided that he would begin to anticipate the good.

And then, with a smile, he started to see it too. The four of them traveling back from Hamilton; Nathan, Elizabeth and two beautiful healthy children. A boy and a girl. If the Tigers won't let girls in, we'll just have to start our own baseball team.

Nathan smiled and shook his head. What has she done to me? he thought. I hardly know myself.

He checked the fire one more time to be certain it was out. Then, touching his fingers lightly on a wall, a chair, a framed photograph – Nathan walked soundlessly down the hall to join Elizabeth in their warm bed.