A/N: Thank you so much for each review on the last chapter. I love hearing all your thoughts!

North Carolina:

Eleanor's face was frozen. The weather had shifted abruptly and the small flakes that started when she left the Lindseys' cabin, soon became a full fledged winter storm. The snow was blowing horizontally, making visibility poor. And while Eleanor had become accustomed to Jamie's land, the Lindseys' cabin was further out. But she had wanted desperately to get home- especially keenly aware that Hugh would need to nurse. And had caused her to take a risk that now in retrospect, she knew was ill advised.

She took a breath, trying to gather her strength to fight the rapidly gathering drifts. "Okay, think," she murmured. "What would Jamie say? Keep going? Turn back?"

"To survive, mo ghraidh" Jamie wrapped his arm around her, "Ye need to think. Dinnae be impulsive or let yer fear drive ye like ye are so apt to do. What do ye need survive?"

"Hum," Eleanor laid her head on his shoulder, raising their joined hands to study each of Jamie's fingers, "Food," she moved one of Jamie's fingers, "water," she moved another finger, "and shelter."

"Aye, verra gut, my lassie, but what is the most important?"

"Well, I suppose it depends on the situation. If I was dehydrated, then water, right? But shelter could also be important in that case."

"Aye, but alainn ros, if ye are in the elements, ye better search fer shelter or make a shelter right quick. Do ye ken how?"

"How to make a shelter?" Eleanor giggled, sitting up to lean over to kiss him. "Do you not ken who are talking to, Mister Fraser?" she asked.

Jamie quickly pounced on her, his movement quick, turning her over to her back before she could even register what was happening. His body was on top of hers, but as always taking care not to squish her. His hands were entwined in hers, his breath hot against her cheek.

"Do ye think this to be funny, Mistress Fraser?" his voice was full of mock sternness.

"Let's be real, Jamie," Eleanor wiggled underneath him, "If I am ever caught in that situation, I'm just going to be doomed."

Jamie kissed her passionately, "Then I suppose I willna be able to let ye out of my sight again."

Eleanor yanked her face away from his breathless, "But that could become quite bothersome to you. I think you are rather accustomed to your freedom to become saddled down by such a helpless wife."

Jamie's mouth captured hers again, insistent, prodding, turning her insides into mush.

"Ye are far from helpless," he declared.

Eleanor looked around. "Shelter," she murmured. "But where?" There was no where to be seen.

She began to walk more quickly. She was beginning to panic. A full out panic.

"For Christ sake," Eleanor rammed into a fallen log, the force flinging her body to the ground, her ankle twisting in pain. "Oh shit."

She laid in the snow, her hair falling out of its bun, her body splayed on the ground, contorted in a rather unladylike position.

"My darling," John gently reached for her elbow, "Are you hurt?"

"Only my pride," Eleanor covered her face, "Not only am I on the ground in quite an undignified position, but I cursed in front of you, which will surely only lead to a scolding."

"Surely not," John leaned to gently tug her hand away from her flushed cheeks and then to kiss her head, "In certain predicaments, I believe most whole heartedly you are entitled to a momentary lapse in decorum, Lady John. Allow me to assist you up."

He tenderly eased her up off the ground, "How do you fare?"

Eleanor brushed off her dress and then attempted to move, "I think I twisted my ankle."

John immediately eased her back down, "Which one?"

"The right one," Eleanor said as John carefully pushed her dress up to remove her boot and examine her ankle, Eleanor wincing.

"I do not think it to be broken, but we should ask a physician to examine you and see."

"Completely unnecessary."

"Still," John's hand rested on her ankle, "I would feel better over it."

Eleanor looked mischievous, "I know my hair is messed up and my hat is askew and my dress is dirty, but I think I could swoon from the improper attention you are giving me. I thought ankles are forbidden in this century, my darling husband."

John's mouth twitched from clear amusement at his wife's words, "You are impossible." He leaned over to kiss her passionately, "Truth be told, I do not find myself desiring you for your ankles, my dear when there are surely other parts of you that are far more intriguing for me."

"Oh," Eleanor pulled back, "Do tell."

John reached for her hand, but then got distracted, "My dear," John frowned deeply, "you forgot your gloves and there is a nip to the air."

She looked down at her hands.

"Did I?"

Eleanor shoved her bare hands in her pocket, "I forgot my mittens. Surely that would have led to a scolding from you, my love." she closed her eyes tight, wishing for the memory of John to come back to her, desperately trying to reach for it back, for John to comfort and care for her once again.

She hoisted herself up, despite the pain of digging her hand in the frigid snow. She managed to stand, but her ankle buckled underneath her. "Oh crap." She hobbled and then leaned against a nearby tree.

Her mind raced as the doom of the situation fell upon her. Eleanor was a pessimist, practical to the core.

And she knew- this would not end well.

Eleanor turned her head, into Jamie's shoulder as his arm came around her waist, protectively pulling her into him. He kissed her head tenderly, "Ye are shakin."

"I'm fine," she swallowed hard. "What should we do?'

He gently pulled away to step over to examine the body, but from his condition, they knew the urgency had passed, probably weeks ago.

"He lost his way in the storm. Tis nothin that couldha been done. The animals got to him." Jamie's voice was so matter of fact, the voice that had seen his fair share of death, that had been on the brink of death himself many times.

But to Eleanor, it was the most horrifying, tragic thing she had ever witnessed.

Jamie turned back to study her pale face, "I will bury him." His eyes on her, his voice low, "Go by the river and splash some water on yer face. Ye look like ye could faint."

"It's my pregnancy," Eleanor murmured.

"Aye, of course," Jamie nodded. "Ye dinna need to see this while ye are expectin our second wee bairn. Go on now, mo ghraidh. Do as I bid." His voice was gentle, but there was also a resolve to it...a prodding towards obedience...not for his power, but for her own sake.

Jamie found her a long while after. "We should return home to Mac."

She turned her head towards him, the tears staining her face, "How can you be so cavalier about death?" she asked, her tone angry.

"I've seen enough of it."

"I get that...but...it's awful. And you had no reaction to it. None what so ever."

"I dinnae say it wasna awful," Jamie said, reaching out to wipe her tears but she pulled away from him, "Eleanor," he rebuked.

"I just cannot accept that these things are normal...normal enough to be desensitized to the pain and sorrow."

"Twas it not normal some in yer own time?" Jamie's hand dropped. "School shootings, planes into buildings, war, hunger?"

"But to see it first hand..."

"Aye," Jamie nodded. "Tis different." He reached his hand out again to cup her face and this time she didn't withdraw from his touch, "I ken ye are fearful of dyin in some horrific manner, but ye canna let that fear overtake ye. Or I fear that when faced with some hardship, ye will give up."

"I'm afraid for myself, yes, but I am more afraid for you. What if you were this man? I cannot lose you, James."

Jamie's voice was hoarse, "Ye canna fear what may or may not come. In the end, ye must pray that ye have the strength and courage to endure what does come. I canna promise ye a life devoid of hurt or sufferin, but I can promise ye, that while I have breath, I will be by yer side. No matter what may come. But ye must find yer strength as well, mo ghraidh. Some way of livin in this world, without letting the hurt consume ye, but not losin that empathetic soul that makes ye so bonny."

"How can I do that?"

Jamie shrugged, "Weel, I dinnae ken exactly. Together, I suppose."

"I do love you so much."

"I love ye too."

Eleanor took a breath, her body shivering.

"Dinnae give up, lass."

Jamie's words echoing in her head, she hobbled to the next tree and then the next, fighting the pain.

She cried out against the howling wind and snow, against the pain that shot through her ankle. And still she trudged on. Until her body gave out again, collapsing in the snow.

"Sometimes, my darling, we have to fight for the life we want to live. Because when we come to the other side of those struggles, tis where joy and peace reside." John said, his voice low. "I know you are quite capable of the fortitude to endure this fight."

"John! I need you!" Eleanor cried, her mind awash with memories, a mix of the past and the present, realism and fantasy.

"I will always be here for you, my darling. But you must choose to live."

"I cannot fight alone."

"But you are not alone."

"But I am," Eleanor cried, in the present now, the snow swirling around her. "I'm completely alone."

"ELEANOR!"

The call was faint, but she heard it nonetheless, against the howl of the wind.

But the voice. It was unmistakable. It wasn't John's voice, it was Jamie's.

The voice became louder, fighting out against the noise.

Calling for her in that guttural Scottish brogue she loved so much, his voice full of unmistakable desperation, a cry of a Scottish warrior in battle. It was the only time she heard such a tone in Jamie's voice was when their children were taken.

"Jamie!" Eleanor pushed herself up again, "Jamie!"

She heard him call for her again, them calling back and forth until her body plodded against his.

"Mo ghraidh," Jamie held her, against him, clinging to her, "are ye hurt, lass?"

"My ankle. I can't move well, especially in the drifts. It really hurts. You should not have come."

"Shouldna have come?" Jamie's voice was in her ear drowning out all the noise, "How can ye ask such a think of me? I would go to hell and back again to see you safe, my foolish wee besom."

"But I saw John. I think I might be dying. Am I dying?"

"Fer Christ sake," Jamie lifted her up in his arms, "Not on my damn watch." he cried out.

"Our children cannot be orphans," Eleanor said, "You cannot take risks for me."

"We will discuss it later," Jamie grunted.

He fought through the snow, stopping at points to gather his bearings before headed again.

And when she thought all hope was lost, Jamie pushed open the door to a cabin.

"Thank Christ," he murmured, collapsing with her onto his knees. She looked at Jamie, snow covering his wild hair.

And then she knew.

Stalwart Jamie had been truly afraid.

"Jamie?" Eleanor's voice shook. "Will we be okay?"

"Aye, now we will," He managed to hoist her up again and put her down gently in a nearby chair. "Let me look at ye." He touched her arm, frowning at the expression on her face, "Are ye still scarrit, leannan?"

"Terrified especially when I saw how relieved you were."

"Ye dinnae have to be scarrit now, ye ken," Jamie said, his voice tender, "Dinna fash, mo ghraidh. We will be safe here until the storm passes." He looked at her foot. "May I look?"

She nodded as he carefully untied her shoe and slipped off the boot.

"Tis swollen fer certain," he examined it, Eleanor wincing, "Ah, I am no healer, but I've seen my fair share of broken bones. I dinnae think tis broken."

"That's good." Eleanor's voice broke.

"Aye," He untied her other shoe, slipping it off and then looked up at her distraught face.

His eyes bore into hers. "Ellie, I dinnae plan to die with ye in this cabin. Trust me. I will see that we come through the storm though there is no tellin how long exactly we will be stuck here."

"Okay," she swallowed hard, "But is there enough wood?"

"There should be some. I keep it stocked...just in case a passerby needs it." He paused, looking around, Eleanor following his eyes.

"Wait," she gasped, "We are at Bree and Roger's cabin."

"Aye."

"I had no idea," Eleanor's eyes were wide, "I was so completely turned around. Oh, God, if you hadn't found me..."

"Weel, that dinnae exactly matter now because I did find ye," Jamie said, matter of factually, rising, "I still canna bear to see the cabin occupied, though I ken to have it empty, weel, tis an awful waste." He took off his wet gloves, tossed them on the table, went to try to start a fire immediately. He looked over at her while he did, "Ye are shiverin, mo ghraidh. Get out of yer wet clothes."

Eleanor fumbled with the buttons to her coat, her fingers freezing and not working properly. "Will the children be okay?"

"Aye, Young Ian and Jenny are more than capable of takin care of the wee uns in our absence."

"What about Hugh?"

"The bairn will be fine."

"He needs to feed."

"Aye, but Jenny will be able to tend to him. She told me to tell ye not to fash aboot our wee uns."

"I'm not ready to give up feeding him. Not after everything I went through..."

"Weel," Jamie frowned, "I ken this might be a blow to ye, but ye are alive and Hugh will have ye fer many more years, God willing. I dinnae think he will resent an early ween from ye."

Eleanor knew he was right, but still, "Do you really think we are stuck here?"

"Aye, ye and I both ken we are."

"I'm being stupid. It's just he is my last baby."

"Aye, I ken that it hurts ye," Jamie said, "I ken how ye love that time with yer bairns. Tis fine to mourn it. But ye are alive and given the fact that I wasna certain if I would find ye, I canna be too sorry fer it."

She nodded. "As I said, I know I am being stupid." She kept fumbling with her buttons, agitated. Jamie nodded, turning back and working on the fire. When it was roaring, he turned to her.

"Are yer fingers not workin properly?" he asked as he shrugged off his own coat.

"I had forgotten my mittens. I can't feel them."

"Why dinnae ye say?" Jamie's eyes widened. "Give me yer hands," he grabbed a chair, putting it close to her. He took her hands in his, breathing on it, rubbing them to try to warm them up. "I will melt some snow, heat it over the fire and we can soak yer hands."

"Do you think it necessary?"

"Aye," He kissed her hands, "But dinnae fash aboot it. Tis not as bad as it coulda been." Jamie frowned, "Yer teeth are chatterin."

"I can't stop," Eleanor stuttered.

"We must get ye out of yer wet clothes."

"I think I am wet down through my shift," Eleanor said, honestly, "I fell into the snow and was there for a while."

"Aye," Jamie took care to keep his voice easy, "Weel, I can look in Bree's trunk to see if she has anythin she left. If not, we can wrap ye tight in a blanket."

Eleanor swallowed hard, "Very well. I don't see much of a choice."

"Aye, tis not," Jamie nodded. He paused, hesitating briefly before saying, "Do ye mind if I unbutton yer coat fer ye?"

"I'd be grateful. My fingers are still numb."

"The soak will help," Jamie focused his eyes on her buttons, unbuttoning her coat and then helping shrug it off of her. He felt her arm and then her shoulder, "yer clothes do need to be changed."

"I suppose coats aren't as weather proof here as in my century."

"Aye," Jamie reached for his coat again, "We have to get yer fingers in warm water."

He reached for a pot, brushing off the dust. "I'll be back."

"Be careful," Eleanor entreated.

"Dinna fash. I'm just goin to the steps."

Eleanor shuddered again as the cold wind came in from the door. Jamie came back a few minutes later with a pot of snow, putting immediately on the fire. "Let's see aboot yer clothes."

She nodded, suddenly shy with Jamie. She had no idea why she was feeling the way she did, but the prospect of spending time here...alone...with her ex husband made her nervous. Not to mention with frozen fingers, chilled to the bone and a twisted ankle.

Jamie sensing her reserve, went to ruffle around the cabin, before coming back with a shift. "It will be too long on ye, but tis dry...if not a bit musty. No wee critters, if that is what ye are concerned aboot," he winked at her.

"Small blessings."

"Aye," Jamie gave her another smile, "How are yer fingers?"

"Um," Eleanor bit her lip and shrugged.

"How aboot I get yer buttons and then ye can see if ye can shrug off yer dress. Even if yer shift is wet, we can wrap ye in a blanket and then soak yer hands. By that time, ye should be able to change."

Eleanor took a breath and rose.

"Don't move on yer ankle," Jamie advised, stepping over to her. He brushed aside her wet hair, which was a tangled mess. "Relax, Eleanor. Ye are as skittish as can be. What is wrong with ye?"

"It's your sister!" Eleanor groaned, her face flaming as Jamie undid her buttons. "All that innuendo. I love her to pieces, but she is causing unnecessary sexual tension between us."

Jamie choked. "Fer Christ sake, Eleanor. Perhaps not the time to raise that concern as I am undressing ye."

"You asked."

"Aye, but I dinnae expect..." Jamie paused, "Just..." he grunted, stepping away from her, unable to temper his reaction to her words and needing to create distance between them quickly. He turned around, facing away from her. "Wiggle and get yer dress down." Eleanor did as he told, the dress falling off of her.

"My corset is protruding into my ribs," Eleanor wiggled, trying to get comfortable.

The floor creaked as Jamie turned back around to face her, "Oh Christ, I forgot aboot yer corset."

"Been a while since Claire has left?" Eleanor quipped and then her eyes widened. "Oh shit. I'm not helping, am I?"

"Ah, no, ye arena," Jamie coughed again, practically choking on his words. "Here. Just. Fer Christ sake," He began to speak in a string of Gaelic and then stepped back to her and determinedly started unlacing her corset. "Ye ken we have four bairns between us. We shouldna make this worse than it is."

"I'm telling you, it's your sister, putting ideas in my head."

He helped her out of her corset and then reached for the blanket, wrapping it around her, the movement protective. He turned her around by the waist, gently. He raised hand to push back a strand of hair that fell into her face and then rested his fingers on her cheek, "My sister has had alot to say aboot all of this. But I dinnae think this is all her doin."

"Jamie," Eleanor whispered. "I don't want those ideas in my head. I can't have those ideas in my head. She has to stop."

"Aye, I can understand that it is troublin ye, especially considerin...weel, us being stuck here. But in all fairness to my wee besom of a sister, I dinnae think we need her to create tension of that nature betwixt us. With John and Claire both gone, given what we have shared...weel, tis to be expected...if...those ideas come up from time to time." He gave her a smile and then rubbed her cheek, "Ye look mortified. I dinnae wish ye to be shamed by yer desires as a woman," his voice was kind.

Eleanor cringed further, "I don't want to have any desires as a woman," she groaned.

"Now, Eleanor," Jamie started to chide, but then changed his tone with her, "Ye are makin too much of it. I dinnae plan on us doin anythin inappropriate tonight. Dinna fash, mo ghraidh. Yer virtue is safe with me." He said it so nonchalantly, but she could tell he was fighting a grin.

"Good Lord, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser!" Eleanor grunted, "You are teasing me...and that's not nice...I could have died out in that storm...and..."

He put a finger on her lips, "Shh." He fought a smile, "Go sit and calm yerself. Ye are gettin yer feathers all ruffled."

"Jamie," she grunted. "I do not need a time out."

"Eleanor," he looked at her evenly. "Ye clearly do. And if ye dinnae, then I may need un after this talk." He raised his eyebrow at her and having been married to Jamie before, she knew well what that look was. Her virtue was safe with him, yet, the pull between them was clear.

"Okay, fine," she hobbled back to her seat.

"That is such a verra gut lassie," He praised, with a sarcastic glint is eye as he stepped away from her. "I must change too. I found a shirt of mine...Roger must of borrowed it when he first came though I'm certain it was too big for him. The water will be done by then, I hope."

"Okay," Eleanor said. Jamie came back a few minutes later.

"I need to get a grip," Eleanor told Jamie when he came back in.

He laughed and then gripped her by the elbow, pushing her down to sit at the table. She sat on the bench at the side of the table. He retrieved the bucket from the fire, testing it before shoving her hands in them. "Ye'll regain feelin after a while, but it may hurt when ye do." He sat down at the head of the table.

They sat in silence and Eleanor wishing to move on from the dangerous ground of the previous conversation, opted to do what she often did when she felt pulled towards Jamie- pick a fight with him to preserve her dignity and maintain hold of the fortress around her heart that Jamie was now breaching.

Eleanor forced a smile. "We should talk about the fact that you risked you life to save me."

Jamie looked at her, evenly, "What would ye expect me to do?"

"Not make our children orphans!" Eleanor exclaimed. "Especially with Claire and John gone. They have been through enough!"

"In what situation, do ye ever think I would just leave ye fer dead, Eleanor?" Jamie asked, aghast. "Do ye even ken me?"

"I am not your wife any longer."

"Do ye think that matters to me, mo ghraidh? I dinnae care fer ye because ye claimed my name or birthed my bairns nor I do I want ye to fer the purpose of warming my bed. I love ye. And if ye think fer un minute, I would leave ye out in a blizzard to fend fer yerself then ye are daft, woman."

"Our children would have been orphans!"

"Our children need their mother and I do too!" Jamie declared. He reached over to grip her face, "I ken what this is aboot. Ye are afraid of this. Of us."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Eleanor grimaced at pain prickled through her hands. "You ruined us. We had something beautiful and you destroyed us."

"I wasna the only one!" Jamie countered, dropping his hand, "Dinnae rewrite history."

"I can't keep doing this with you!" Eleanor cried. "Dancing around whatever is between us. I don't want to look at you and feel anything. I wish you would just leave me alone. You should have let me stay at Mt. Josiah..." Eleanor started to rail at him.

"Now, mo ghraidh," Jamie interrupted her as his voice grew lower, "if it was just ye to consider, I wouldna have forced the issued. But I dinnae think it was wise fer ye to be on yer own with five wee uns. And since ye did return to the Ridge with me, I wanted to help ye..with more than just the wee uns. And ye canna tell me wantin to do so is wrong." He titled his head, challenging her to speak up when she opened her mouth to offer a headed retort. She closed her mouth again and Jamie took another deep breath, his voice lowering even more, "In spite of everythin we have endured, we have always been friends...ye and me. And there has always been plenty of love between us. That dinnae stop even when it maybe shoulda."

Eleanor's lip trembled, but she didn't say anything else.

"Will ye no forgive me fer our past?" Jamie's question was blunt. "Ye said ye have, over and over again, but when it comes down to it, clearly ye havena."

She stared at her hands in the pot of water, splashing them around a bit, "I told you I have, and I know Jenny thinks it makes sense...just to fall back into it with you. We clearly still care. It would be far too easy just to give into it. But, Lord John...he was my soulmate."

At that pronouncement, they were silent for a few minutes...neither wishing to continue, but the tension and hurt building between them. Finally after several minutes, Jamie spoke again, a plea to her.

"Eleanor..." Jamie's voice was full of emotion. "Is there no hope then?"

Eleanor let out a long breath, "I don't know."

"Do ye wish to hurt me so, leannan?"

"But I don't say that about Lord John to hurt you, Jamie, I say it because it is the truth. You must know how I feel. You have always required the truth between us even if you ended being rather flippant with that truth all along," She bit her lip at Jamie's expression.

"I shoulda told ye aboot Edinburgh and the smuggling." He shifted, "I ken ye would worry."

"It wasn't just that- the prophecy too, Jamie. Our children were in danger and you knew that and yet for years and three children later, you said nothing to me until the worst happened."

"I thought I could keep ye and them safe. I ken ye would be paralyzed with fear if ye ken."

"But I had the right to know. I had the right to worry. I had the right to lean on my husband for comfort and understanding. If I had known..."

"Ye wouldna have been able to prevent it...even if ye never let the wee uns out of yer sight it would have almost surely meant yer life would have been forfeit when they did come from them."

She looked at him, deep in his eyes, "I had the right to know."

"Aye, mo ghraidh, ye did."

"And you have the right to know this- I don't know how much I have in my heart to give you. I ache for John constantly. If he would walk into this door, I would run to him and never let go. Because he loved me when he shouldn't have. He fought for me. And our relationship...there was such beauty to it. It made me a better woman. And that is what a marriage should be, bringing out the best in each other."

"And yet," Jamie's voice was throaty, "Ye canna deny what is here between ye and I, can ye, mo ghraidh?"

She closed her eyes tightly, her heart hammering.

"Ye said ye were speakin truth and I ask fer it. Or do ye only speak the truth when it is convenient to guard yer heart and yet pierce my own?"

Her face flushed further at his challenging words, which were true of her, "I'm sorry."

"I forgive ye, mo ghraidh. But I wish fer ye to tell what aboot this is plaguing yer heart so badly," Jamie said, his hand moving to comfortingly squeeze her neck behind her tangled hair. "Ellie, look at me."

She opened her eyes at his comforting gesture and his command.

His eyes searched hers, holding her gaze to his, "Will ye deny it?" he said, under his breath.

"No, I cannot deny it...nor will I deny it," she said, softly, "I do love you, Jamie Fraser. And you have always had a piece of my heart. But you have to understand, just because I love you, doesn't mean that we belong together."

"Ye have some foolish notion of love, Eleanor," he said, bluntly. "If I loved ye before out of obligation, then why dinnae it go away?"

"I don't know," Eleanor groaned again, her head leaning on her arm. "Can we just stop? Please."

"Aye, fer now," Jamie said, ominously as he rose to slide onto the bench next to her. "Let me see yer hands."

"What does that mean?" Ellie took her hands out of the water and put them in Jamie's, who reached for a cloth to dry them. "For now?"

"It means," Jamie looked at her evenly, "We have all the time in the world. And perhaps that is what we need lass...to be stuck here in this storm so we can fully heal. Clearly, we pushed aside some of the bitterness fer the sake of our wee uns and to maintain peace, but that is not healin, Eleanor."

"And if I don't want to?" Eleanor's voice trembled.

Jamie kissed her fingers, "Do ye feel that?"

"Y..yes," Eleanor's voice shook again.

"Verra gut," Jamie kissed them again, "Then I have all the time in the world to convince ye that ye should want to heal...that the pain ye might feel at takin the risk of openin up yer heart will only be part of the journey...and the result in the end will far outweigh the trouble. But..." He rose, "Ye need to get out of yer wet shift. Ye are shiverin somethin awful. Do ye think ye can manage?"

She nodded and reached for the shift that Jamie dangled in front of her, snatching it from his hands.

England

"Papa," William came into the study at Helwater where John was sorting through papers on the late Lord Dunsany's desk.

John looked up, "Yes, William?"

"I got a very peculiar missive from Mama."

"From your mother?" John immediately side-swept the desk, gesturing for William to sit with him on the sofa.

"I think you should read it," William handed it to John.

John frowned but unfolded the parchment,

Dearest William,

How I miss you! I trust you are doing well and learning to run your estate well. But I know that beyond that, you are learning the responsibilities and character needed to be a fair and just landowner and Lord of the estate. Your title doesn't define you, by any means, but it causes people to look at you more closely. So please, William, do take care.

By now, you have received news about your Papa. Oh, William, I miss him so very much, every day. I have no words to describe my feelings now that he is gone. I am lost and I do not think I will ever be found again.

I have returned to Fraser's Ridge with your brothers and sisters. Susanna has accompanied me. I fear that the task of raising the children- I need a steady hand to help me and Mr. Fraser is their father.

Hugh continues to thrive- I cannot believe he has not yet met you.

I look forward when we can all be reunited.

Until then, I am only a letter (and ocean) away.

Lots of love,

Mama

John frowned. "This is peculiar. Of what news is she referring?"

"You wrote to Mama when you arrived at Helwater though. Surely she doesn't believe something happened to you."

"Yes, I did write to her," John studied the letter again. "But post is so very slow between the England and the colonies as you know. And missives can be intercepted."

William frowned, "By whom?" He titled his head, "Do you have many enemies afoot, Papa?"

"At the moment, I wasn't aware of any, but you do never know," John rose, "I am going to leave and go see my brother in the morning. And go to the club. I will puzzle this out. Do not worry."

William looked to Lord John, "If Mama thought you had died, I cannot imagine the sorrow she feels. Who would do such a thing to her? Does Mama have enemies?"

"Your mother?" John frowned deeper, "Surely not. She is such a gentle soul as you know."

"Yes, but she is rather opinionated, Papa and perhaps she shared her opinions with someone she should not have. You have to admit to the likelihood of that possibility."

He gave William a small smile, "Yes, I admit that is very likely to be true as much as I have pleaded with her for discretion, sometimes she forgets in the heat of an argument. But no, your mother does not have any enemies..." he paused, "but..." he paused again, mulling it over.

"Papa," William rose, interrupting John's thoughts, "If Mama does think you to have perished and is with Mr. Fraser, by the time news of your safety reaches her..." he shifted his weight between feet, "I am only now learning about matters of the heart, but I know that Mr. Fraser is important to Mama and now that Mistress Fraser is gone..." He frowned at the thought..."You said Mister Fraser was quite devastated Mama was so ill after Hugh's birth. And I saw them together at Fraser's Ridge...there was a closeness there."

John forced a smile, "What will be will be, William. If something nefarious did occur to make your mama think I was dead, I would never hold her actions against her, especially when if I was truly perished, I would want her to be with a man...as worthy of her as Mister Fraser is."

"Of course, but Papa..." William frowned.

"I think we are done with this discussion, William," John said, firmly. "Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. Now, if you don't mind, I have business to sort out before I leave for London in the morn."

"Of course, Papa, I will leave you be," William nodded before taking his leave.

John sighed, sitting down at the desk, his head dropping to his hands.

North Carolina

Eleanor changed in front of the fire, then hobbled over to lay her wet clothes out.

"Are ye decent?" Jamie asked.

"For the time we are living in or just in general?"

Jamie chuckled, "If ye dinnae mind, I willna tell. I am only in my shirt after all."

"Then, I'm fine," Eleanor said, plopping down onto the rug.

"Verra gut," Jamie tossed her a brush, Eleanor catching it. "Yer hair looks worse than mine, lassie."

Eleanor rolled her eyes, but began to brush through the knots. "Can you believe only Sam got my hair? I mean...what are the odds I would have to spend hours waging war with both our daughters' mop of your unruly curls?"

Jamie laughed, appreciatively. "They are Frasers, are they no?"

"In physicality and personality," Eleanor brushed harder.

"They have plenty of their mama in them," Jamie said, frowning as he watched her struggle. "Christ, woman. What are ye doin to yer hair?"

"Taking out my frustration..." she grunted.

"Ah, I see," Jamie sat next to her on the rug, and held out his hand, "I happen to like yer hair, so if ye dinna mind, I can see if I can help ye a wee bit. Ye have quite the mess, I dinnae realize it was this bad."

He began to ease the brush through her tangles, section by section. "Ye do brush yer hair every night, don't ye?"

"By the time I get done doing Rose and Hope's hair, I sometimes decide it's not worth it." she shrugged. "John would scold me and finally instructed Susanna to make sure I did so every night or have her do so. But we are more casual at the Ridge and he isn't here, so..." she shrugged again. "I guess I will never truly be a proper lady."

"Ah, I think ye are most certainly are," Jamie said, "Ye have grown into yerself, Eleanor."

"As I said before," Eleanor said softly, "John made me better."

Jamie put the brush aside and quickly braided her hair, "The truth is," Jamie said, his voice low, "I didna think there was much room for improvement. Yer faults...they were mostly vices in your eyes...but to those who love ye, none of that mattered...not truly."

He tied her hair with a ribbon, "There." he reached to pull up the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. He abruptly rose and went to sit in a chair by the fire.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, the tension between them heightened.

Finally, Ellie broke it, "What are you thinking?"

"I dinnae think ye wish to ken," Jamie said, bluntly.

"I do wish to know," Eleanor said, softly, "You look perturbed and I know my words were hurtful earlier and while I asked not to talk about it," she bit her lip, "Oh, Jamie, I do not wish you to be hurt by anything I said."

"Ye apologized fer that already."

"Yes, but...will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"Verra weel," Jamie said, "I wish to ken...what am I to ye?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Aye," Jamie retorted, his voice firm, "Ye do ken. I ken ye do. Just tell me the truth, lass."

She swallowed hard, "It is hard to put into words."

"Ye must try," Jamie insisted. "Fer the sake of ourselves and the wee uns we parent, ye must try."

"I suppose..." she paused, studying the fire, and the blurted out, "You are the fire."

"The fire?" Jamie mused. "Ye are goin to have to explain."

"Ye stir up something in me, James Fraser. It's raw and its deep...and I could be burned by it...because I am drawn to it, in ways that in spite of my best efforts, I cannot shake. And then, sometimes, you are like a forest fire to my soul..." She paused, "wild, untamed, dangerous...it could devour me...I could be lost in it...but..." her voice trailed off, her face flushing bright red.

"Go on," Jamie practically growled.

"Then sometimes, it like this fire...warm, comforting..." she paused, her throat strained as she tried to fight her emotions, "life giving. Oh God, Jamie. Why did you make me say this to you?"

"Ah, mo ghraidh, dinnae fear it. I ken what ye mean now," He looked at her intently, his eyes filled with something that scared Eleanor down to her core. Longing. Desire. Love. "Come here to me." He gestured with his head.

"I cannot." She shook her head adamantly. "This is such a bad idea."

"Eleanor." Jamie's eyes were filled with compassion, but she could tell from is manner that he wasn't going to let her off the hook. "You cannot always run when ye are afraid of the outcome. Tis no way to live."

She pushed herself up and walked over to him, "I shouldn't have told you those things. I don't know why I did. I should have lied."

"Ye canna lie to me so easily any longer. And I am glad ye did, alainn ros, verra glad ye did," Jamie said, "Will ye no look at me? Will ye no give me the chance to be who ye need me to be?"

She forced her eyes on him, her lip trembling. "I don't know what I need." And she meant it.

"I ken," Jamie said, soothingly. "The problem is that ye canna see that ye and I...we are on a journey as weel. And that journey has led us in different directions, but has also brought us back. Isna there somethin to treasure too? Isna that worth anythin? I dinnae ken...if Claire was meant fer me or John was meant fer ye...I ken that fer the time they walked this earth, they were...but I canna deny that, ye are apart of me- to the depths of my soul, Eleanor. When ye are aching, I wish to comfort ye. When the tears fall, my heart feels like it will break...and I wish to wipe them away and make yer world better again. When ye are laughing with the children, I wanna laugh with ye. When ye are scarrit, I wanna protect ye. And when ye are angry, I wanna fight with ye. And when ye look at me, like ye are lookin at me, I wanna take ye to my bed and show ye that I do desire ye still...I dinnae ken how many years we have left in this world, but I dinnae want ye to spend them alone...and I dinnae want to spend them without ye as weel. I ken I hurt ye, Ellie and that stain on my soul will always be there, but I can be the man I once was fer ye...if ye can find it in yer heart to allow me to be."

She put her hand over her face and cried at the words that cast such a healing balm on her soul. "I don't know what to think."

He nodded, "Aye, I ken. Come sit with me and we can work to sort out yer feelings."

She bit her lip, but Jamie patted his lap. "Come now, I willna bite."

"Isn't this highly improper for this time?" Eleanor asked, swatting at her tears. "Like sinfully so?"

"Aye, but in my mind, I was marrit to ye before ye were marrit to John, and while Claire and John were here, I couldna honor my vows to ye, but since they are both gone... I still hold myself fast to those vows I made to ye but..." his voice trailed off, "I will no force ye to them, Eleanor. Ye have choices in this life- I will see to it...always. All this to say," Jamie let out another hefty breath, "I dinnae think it sinful to provide ye comfort when ye so clearly require it. But if ye choose not to take my comfort, tis yer choice."

She swallowed hard and then scooted closer to Jamie and he reached for her, pulling her down on his lap. She immediately buried her head in his neck, breathing in his scent and his closeness.

"Aye, ye must accustom yerself to me again," Jamie said, with a chuckle. "tis the way of it." He reached a large, roughened hand to cradle her head against him. "Ye have gooseflesh. Are ye still cold?"

"Warmer now that I have a bear of a Fraser's body heat near me," she said, causing Jamie to laugh, shaking her in the process.

"I'm happy to oblige ye, lass," Jamie said, with another laugh. His hand still remained on her head, cradling the side of it. "Now, tell me what is on yer heart, mo ghraidh."

She was silent for a few moments, trying to gather her thoughts. Jamie was keenly aware of the time she needed to process her thoughts and emotions and didn't push her, knowing that Eleanor always spoke when she was ready.

"I suppose...John anchored my world and I feel lost without him," she said, honestly. "And I'm...really scared to do what he said and try to embrace the journey. Because what if this...what if it all falls apart again? What if I can't be the woman you need me to be? What if we fight all the time? What if you decide that I am not enough for you...that nobody can replace Claire? She was a wonder with everything and I am not."

"Anythin else?" Jamie asked, wryly, pulling her even tighter against him.

She sniffed, "What if we decide we have grown too far apart to ever come back together again? What if sex is bad between us? What if you regret being with me? Is it worth taking the risk when things blew up so much in our faces before? Things are peaceful between us...and we have a friendship...and I don't want it to destroyed...What if I still harbor resentment towards you in my heart and that suddenly comes out because we give into this? There are so many reason why this idea is just so foolish, to rock the boat...when..."

"Do ye not see us together again, Eleanor? In yer heart?"

"God help me, I do."

"I do too. And what yer feelin, weel, it's fine to be scarrit, Ellie," Jamie said, quietly, "I am as weel. But I have always loved ye fer who ye are...even the parts of ye that dig underneath my skin and I wanna shake some sense into yer bonny wee heid. I willna deny it-we arena as weel matched as ye and Lord John were...ye and he...tis rare the meeting of minds and hearts that ye and he had...but I believe...tis in our imperfections, in those raw place betwixt us, thats where we work...and we fight fer our understanding. And tis a sweetness to that weel earned victory of peace and understanding...because in each of us yeilding, we are showin that we do love each other deeply, enough to die to our own wills and wants. Ye dinnae have to chase after Claire, mo ghraidh, ye simply have to be yerself with me...because I do treasure ye...fer who ye are. And moreover, I always have."

"Jamie..." Eleanor's voice was a plea.

"As fer the love makin, I wouldna fret over that. Even when it was hard on ye, we always managed to find each other. And ye always brought me so much joy."

"I just know if I can..and not remember..."

He kissed her head, "Remember what?"

"You and Claire...and how easy it was between you."

"I could say the same for ye and John, though ken not everythin was easy...as it wasna fer Claire and I...and yet, ye make it sound like things bein easy means that those things are right things...when some of the verra hardest things are the most right uns. Doin right by each other doesna mean it will be easy...but it will be gut. The joy I find when our hearts finally find understandin...mo ghraidh, twas always worth the struggle, to find the sweetness of us in the end...in every part of our relationship...ye ken what I mean?"

"What do you want, Jamie?" Eleanor finally lifted up her head to look in his eyes.

"Ye," he responded, simply. "As I just said, I canna see ye walk through this life alone, not when I can walk beside ye, yer hand in mine."

"God," She began to cry, wracking sobs against him. "I'm sorry. Just to hear you say those words..."

"Nah, dinnae be sorrit fer it, ye have been through such a trial and ye have been so strong aboot it," Jamie murmured, "holdin yer tears fer late at night when ye dinnae think any of us can hear. Showin the children how to live through yer grief...I've been so proud of ye, lassie, but it has taken its toll."

"You have helped me so much, Jamie," Ellie said, "that night we sat in the middle of the night and talked about John...taking me hunting...teaching me how to defend myself...living out here. You have tried to show me my strength, but I just need your arms around me."

"And I am right here fer ye," Jamie said, tightening his grip, pulling her even further against him, "Let me love ye, lass."

She cuddled into him and allowed herself to give into his comfort. He spoke to her in gaelic, the cadence of the language, always a comfort to her even if she only caught bits and pieces. But she knew that when Jamie did so, it was his way of comforting in the way he was taught...

The wind howled through the cabin, blowing out the candle that Jamie had lit, so that only the firelight provided the light and their faces became outlines. Eleanor pulled away and shivered, chilled again.

"We need to get ye warmer," Jamie said, reaching up his thumb, to wipe her tears with pad of his thumb. "There is a quilt in the trunk. We can wrap ye in it."

"Jamie," Eleanor's voice was soft, "I'm still not sure about all of this."

He kissed her forehead, "I ken. We'll figure all of this out."

She leaned her forehead against his, "I know I gave you such a hard time for it, but I am glad you came for me."

Jamie's breath was against her, "And I meant what I said before. I will never leave ye to die, Eleanor. Such a foolish notion to think that possible of me."

"Thank you," she whispered. "For helping me live."

"Ye are verra welcome, mo ghraidh." He said, both of them keenly aware of the double meaning of her words He kissed her forehead again before easing her off his lap and going to retrieve the quilt.

England

Lord John reached to light a candle and then sat back down on his bed. His dream of Eleanor was fierce tonight- leaving his heart quickened and his stomach in knots.

She was lost in a blizzard and he could not save her try as he might. And he could feel her fear, her panic at the fate before her.

He should have never left her at Josiah's Mount. He didn't know what the alternative was, but he never felt right about it and he should have trusted his instincts.

He had shut down William's question very quickly, but he couldn't deny that if Eleanor did believe him to be dead, deep complications could extend from that especially knowing she was at Fraser's Ridge with Jamie. Not to mention, the sorrow Eleanor and the children must have endured at that news. It was cruel and unfair and he couldn't fathom what led her to believe that he had perished at sea.

And while Eleanor did not have enemies- there was one man who had been undeniably slighted by Eleanor.

But to go to these cruel lengths...even for Tryon, that was unfathomable.

Or was it?

John sighed and then extinguished the candle again.

No, he could never blame Eleanor for turning to Jamie especially after he all but told her to in the letter he wrote that surely Jamie gave to her by now. He always knew what lay in her heart and he was certain of the commitment and love she had towards him. However, the pull of Jamie Fraser had always been strong for both him and Eleanor.

If he was dead, he would want Eleanor to end up with Jamie, for both Jamie and Eleanor's sakes. God knows, Eleanor deserves all the happiness in the world after life had dealt such cruel moments to her. He would want her to have that...not with just any man, but with Jamie. Yes, if he was dead, Eleanor and Jamie together is what he would precisely want...and he would want it to happen quickly so both them would not have to endure months of torture trying not to give into their deepest, most hidden desires simply to honor his memory and deny them what would seem quite inevitable. Life is too short to be tied to such convention and he knew Jamie and Eleanor's passion for each other ran too deep.

But, as John mused, was not dead. He was alive. And the thought of Eleanor in Jamie's arms was enough to make him want to dive into his most primal parts of his soul.

He would puzzle this out and then return to make someone pay for all of this.

And the cost would be steep.

He would ensure that.