Arriving at John Fraser's farm in those waning days of September 1754, Lucy felt a modicum of relief at the prospect of having someplace, other than the surrounding hostile woods, to call home. One of the reasons she was not overwhelmingly excited about finding a more permanent solution to their living situation was just that…the idea of any of this being permanent – absolutely terrified her. The other reason was stemmed in her deeply justified fear of far reaching butterfly effects. By living among and with people of the era, it was more likely that their presence would result in some kind of change to the timeline…something that could very well drastically alter history as they knew it. After all, their run-in with the French and Wyatt's subsequent rescue mission which saw part of Fort Duquesne go up in flames had already sent her into a blind panic about the potential consequences of their actions. Give them a few weeks, months…years in the 18th century and she was positive that something, somewhere would go terribly wrong.
Little did she know it had already happened.
"What did you say?" Wyatt asked again, his expression reflecting a look of shock and horror that made her almost regret saying anything at all.
Almost.
Dropping her gaze to her wringing hands, Lucy shrugged, determined to not shirk away from the truth, even if it was inexplicably heartbreaking for her to do so, "Jane Fraser is not dead." she repeated, "she's still alive."
"What do you mean she's still alive?" Wyatt argued, shaking his head in defiance, "She's dead. Murdered." he explained matter of factly, "John told me…he said she was on her way home from Fort Cumberland…"
"Yes…" Lucy acknowledged uneasily as she busied herself clearing away Wyatt and Rufus' empty mugs, "..and her caravan was attacked by a raiding party. Everyone was killed….well," Lucy added with a nervous chuckle, "everyone except her." She cast a wary glance at Wyatt who was still gaping at her in disbelief before adding awkwardly, "You know…I think, maybe, the fact that she was pregnant…saved her life? I…I think that's why they let her live. Well, that and the chief thought she was pretty." she added with a meaningful gulp.
"Let her live?" Wyatt asked, his face practically dripping with disbelief as he gaped at her. "I…I don't understand…how do you… " but before he could ask for more clarification, Rufus interrupted.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute…" he exclaimed, scooting his chair forward, "Jane Fraser is still alive? Then where the hell has she been for the past…when was she supposed to have been killed?"
"She was killed a little over a year ago." Wyatt responded tersely, his eyes still focused on Lucy as if daring her to contradict him. "John went looking for her…he said…he told me…"
"They never found her body, Wyatt." Lucy interrupted him with a huff. "He just assumed she had been killed…because…because everyone else was." He flinched slightly at her response and fell silent as she took a steadying breath and explained, "She was taken…kidnapped…carted off to some Indian village in Ohio somewhere. She'll…she'll um…have been captive there for about 18 months before she somehow manages to make her escape…"
"With a baby in tow?" Wyatt asked incredulously.
Lucy swallowed hard as she shook her head despondently, "No." she whispered. "The…um…the baby didn't live past three months." Upon hearing this and seeing the solemn expression on Lucy's face, the doubt, so evident on Wyatt's features, completely dissipated. He shifted uncomfortably as Lucy, continued in a hushed voice, "She travels nearly 500 miles on her own, through unfriendly wilderness, with no map…no way to protect herself, eating the bark off of trees most days until she finally, finally makes her way back here…back home" she added with a furtive glace to towards Wyatt, "to John."
"You're…you're serious?" Wyatt asked with a gulp. "She's…she really is alive?"
Lucy stared uneasily back at Wyatt, before nodding intently, "Yes…she's really alive."
Those words, so quietly spoken, had a devastating effect on Wyatt who sank back into his chair looking despondent and pale. Lucy started forward, but then checked herself as he leaned forward and covered his face with his hands, looking almost sick….and apparently at a complete loss for words.
Rufus, however, was not.
"Whoa…whoa…whoa…she's alive and she comes back here?" he asked incredulously, "Here? While he's married to…". At Lucy's serious nod, Rufus drew his hand to his mouth and groaned, "Oh man, that's gonna be awkward."
That was the understatement of the year.
It was with morbid curiosity that Lucy had approached her acquaintance with the John Fraser…a man she had read so much about during her research of the French and Indian War. She knew of his invaluable assistance to both George Washington and General Braddock, she knew of his reputation as a skilled and successful fur trader, farmer and gunsmith, but it was the harrowing tale of his wife's capture, her life among the Miami tribe and her subsequent escape and reunion with her husband was one that had stood out for her among all the other stories that had come from this era. Raids were common on the frontier…as was death…and Jane Fraser despite being a woman, despite having just lost a child, despite all the odds had survived and come home to her husband, relatively unscathed. Their celebratory reunion was something out of a romance novel, rather than a history book…and Lucy, being a sucker for romance, absolutely lapped it up.
Upon meeting Mary Fraser, however, her perspective on the whole situation changed somewhat.
Lucy had hoped that she would find Mary completely unlikeable. A third wheel, a blip, a road bump…an annoying detour that would soon be swept away in favor of the real love of John Fraser's life. The sad fact of the matter was, however, that she found the opposite was true; Mary Fraser was nothing short of kind, caring, gracious, thoughtful…and what's more John seemed to truly love and care about her. As they spent more and more time together, particularly after her own wedding to Wyatt, Lucy couldn't help but feel a profound sympathy and kinship towards the woman whose situation she couldn't help but notice, paralleled her own.
Of course, Lucy knew Wyatt wasn't really her husband…they weren't even really a couple…but she was hopelessly in love with him and he…well, he was hopelessly in love with his dead wife. Whether in 2016 or 1754, she couldn't even compete with the memory of Jessica Logan.
Mary, however, wasn't competing against a memory…
"I mean, could you imagine," Rufus continued, more to himself than to anyone else, "sitting at home with your new wife and in waltzes your old one? Poor bastard…you almost want to give him a heads up."
"Yeah, well that's kind of impossible, isn't it?" Lucy muttered in return as Wyatt made an inarticulate grunt, still holding his head in his hands.
She wanted to do something, anything to comfort him…because obviously he was taking this revelation pretty hard, but she felt somehow that any such comfort from her would probably not be welcome.
She was the bearer of this news, after all.
His reaction, while somewhat unexpected, was also understandable. His friendship with John Fraser had given him someone he could relate to on a level that he had probably never had before. In many ways, Lucy observed, they were very similar. Both were men who had loved and lost, both were brave to the point of recklessness at times…and both were selfless when it came to the protection and care for others. In John Fraser, Lucy surmised, Wyatt could see himself…or rather, as he had alluded to just moments before she dropped this bombshell, what he hoped he could be.
In all the months she had known Wyatt, he had been weighed down with grief, guilt and regret. The responsibility he felt for the death of his wife absolutely dominated his thoughts and actions…had almost driven him to the ultimate act of desperation at the Alamo, had given him, as he himself had put it, no one left to care for. For Wyatt, saving Jessica was more than just righting a wrong, it was about his own salvation. Lucy hadn't fully understood that when they had first met…but she did now. How many fights had they had over it? How angry had he been to find out that Lucy had made a deal to save Amy, but hadn't secured a similar deal for Jessica? How many times had he defensively argued that Jessica's death wasn't fate, it was just his failure, his poor decision…his mistake that he needed, for his own sanity and happiness, to fix?
And then he met a man whose first wife, it seemed, had met a similar end. He had found someone who shared his feeling of guilt and grief. Someone who not only understood what it was to have his wife and happiness cruelly ripped away, but also knew what it was to feel overwhelmingly responsible for her death. In John Fraser, Wyatt had found someone who knew what it was to mourn as he had…except now John Fraser had been given the miracle that Wyatt had prayed for for five years.
So yes, she could understand why Wyatt was so upset.
He probably felt more alone than ever.
And possibly a little bitter.
"You said she came home after she was missing for 18 months?" Rufus pressed Lucy, drawing her attention away from a devastating looking Wyatt, "If she's already been gone for over a year…"
"Yeah." Lucy replied quietly, turning her attention fully to Rufus now, "That means sometime in the next few months, Jane Fraser will be back home…where she belongs." At that, Wyatt jumped up from the table and began pacing the room, his brow furrowed in thought as he stomped back and forth, looking more and more like a trapped animal with every turn. Lucy wanted nothing more than to change the subject, get Wyatt focused on something else entirely, but Rufus seemed determined to keep pressing the issue.
"Which means we might be here to see…" Rufus' eyebrows shot skyward as he considered the implications, "They got popcorn in this day and age?" he asked with a derisive laugh, "Something tells me we're gonna need it."
Lucy rolled her eyes at Rufus' light-hearted remark, but Wyatt stopped dead in his tracks and shot Rufus a hardened glare that immediately had the pilot desperately attempting to smooth over the situation, "Oh come on," he urged, "You know I'm just…you gotta admit it's going to be…" heaving a sigh, he shrugged, "well, one thing's for sure, John Fraser is about to get the shock of his life."
"You think?" Wyatt spat out, with anger, "How do you even…how do you even begin to prepare somebody for something like that?"
"We can't." Lucy warned him. "Wyatt, we…we can't." she continued as he shot her a mutinous glare. "How would he even believe us?" Wanting to give him some kind of assurance, Lucy sighed, "Wyatt…I…I know this…this is…unexpected- but we really should focus on the positives. John is…he really is overjoyed to see her. I mean, how could he not be?"
Wyatt let out an incredulous scoff and Rufus, hearing it, nodded his head in apparent solidarity, replying, "I can think of one or two reasons why he might see it as a problem."
Lucy bit her lip and nodded. It wasn't like she was ignorant of the fact that no matter how glorious the idea of John Fraser reuniting with his long-lost wife might be in the romantic sense, there was one giant elephant in the room in the form of Mary Fraser.
Mary Fraser who hadn't asked to become the "other woman" – who, like Lucy, was desperately in love with a man who would always love the woman who had come before, better. Mary Fraser, the one who, despite all of her virtues of kindness, patience, and goodwill, would be tossed aside the moment Jane Fraser came back from the dead.
No, she was far from ignorant of Mary's predicament…but given that she was trying to focus only on the positives, if not for Wyatt's sake, then for her own, she shrugged and stated with grim determination, "He's going to get the love of his life back, Rufus…and that…that's all that matters."
The heavy stomp that had accompanied Wyatt's pacing suddenly ceased, drawing Lucy's attention from Rufus to the darkened corner where Wyatt stood, staring back at her, looking halfway between hurt and angry. She half expected him to snap at her as he had done Rufus as he looked very much like he wanted to say something…but in the end, he seemed to think better of it and instead, shook his head and resumed pacing back and forth, his jaw tense and fists clenched.
Rufus, either attempting to get on Wyatt's good side, or genuinely appalled at Lucy's response, shot back incredulously, "That's all that matters? Seriously, Lucy?" he asked in disbelief and shock, "I thought Mary was your friend?"
"She is." Lucy replied defensively, "but…"
"But...what about Mary?" Rufus pressed to Lucy's annoyance. She had hoped that Rufus would be an ally for her during all of this, but now, both men were looking at her like she was somehow responsible for what was going to happen.
"What about Mary?" Lucy shrugged, her attempt at indifference falling woefully flat as her voice shook with emotion. Of course, she knew that out of everyone involved, Mary Fraser was going to be the one walking out of the entire situation with the biggest heartache. While Rufus was somewhat justified in his rebuke that as her friend, she should show a bit more sympathy for her situation…Lucy could not.
For her own sake…she could not.
Mary Fraser's heartbreak was her own…though in a much less real sense. At least Lucy never knew what it was to be loved by Wyatt. Mary Fraser, on the other hand, was loved by John, had married John…and would have to live with the knowledge that despite all of that, his love for Jane…his commitment to Jane…superseded anything he had ever felt for her.
"Are you kidding me?" Rufus asked, seemingly offended by Lucy's apparent coldness, "she's his wife!"
Again, Lucy shrugged. She had to. To take up a defense of Mary Fraser when there was a bigger picture at stake? No. No matter her personal feelings, she had to focus on that. "Yes…." Lucy acknowledged, "she thought she was married to him but if Jane Fraser never died, then she and John…"
"They were never really married."
Wyatt's voice, flat and emotionless came quietly from the corner of the room where he had, once again, stopped pacing and stood, his gaze fixed on Lucy.
She met his eyes with a shuddering breath and nodded, unable to shake the feeling that though she was trying to outwardly play off any personal similarities between her and Mary Fraser 's sad situation, Wyatt was somehow seeing right through it. There was something knowing in his look…like he knew she was feeling more than she was letting on...and while it could have been so easy in that moment to break down, cry, and open the flood gates of so many months of unrequited feelings, she mustered up every last ounce of self-control she had to not betray the emotions that were threatening to mutiny against her at every moment.
Forcing a smile on her face she appealed to both men who were looking at her with a mixture of bewilderment and dismay, "It's not as bad as you think…really…I mean, as awkward as it must be to have your long lost dead wife show up when you've….moved on…it's really a happy ending." She nodded her head, attempting to convince herself more of that truth than either Wyatt or Rufus, "John gets his wife back. Jane isn't angry or hurt at all. She's understands that John…well, I mean, you said it yourself Rufus - death was just a part of life here…and…"
"Yeah, but…"
"…and because of that, they didn't waste any time. Being married was…well, it was necessary for survival, especially for women." she added, talking over Rufus' protestations. "Jane understood…well, will understand that when…when she comes home….and like I said, John…well, he's just overjoyed that she's alive." Lucy nodded, "So you see, it's…it's going to be okay. This…this is a good thing."
An awkward and tense silence filled the room until Wyatt began pacing again. The sound of his relentless footfalls serving more to add to the tension than to relieve it. Lucy had just exchanged an awkward glance with Rufus when Wyatt suddenly turned and spat out accusingly, "So you're saying John never gave a damn about Mary, is that it?"
"No" Lucy objected, gaping at him, "that's…that's not what I'm saying at all. I'm just trying to get you both to understand that…this situation, while complicated isn't…"
"Isn't, what?" Wyatt demanded.
"It's not the end of the world, okay?" Lucy spat out in exasperation, ignoring her own feelings that said otherwise. "Mary will…Mary will understand…and Jane," she explained feebly, "is even kind of grateful for Mary. She makes it a point to say how…how kind and good-natured she is…and how happy she was that someone like Mary had been looking after her husband," Lucy swallowed hard before she added uneasily, "you know…while…while she was…away."
Again, Wyatt scoffed, looking as if he might say something in response but again, seemed to think better of it. With a shake of his head and a sardonic smirk plastered on his face, he turned on his heel and began pacing again.
"So," Rufus chuckled uneasily, eyeing him, "no cat-fight then, huh?"
"No…" Lucy replied with an uneasy chuckle of her own, "the whole situation will be handled with a lot of respect and patience. As much can be expected anyway."
"You make it sound so easy." Wyatt replied with another scoff.
"I'm sure it's not going to be easy…but it could be worse, Wyatt." Lucy replied, desperately trying to keep her own emotions in check, "Mary lovesJohn…but she also knows how John feels about Jane…and you knowshe wouldn't stand in the way of that…that's not who she is." Lucy gritted out, her voice cracking now with pent up emotion.
"Oh yeah?" Wyatt asked in disbelief, "And who is she? Hell, who are any of these people to us?" He shook his head disdainfully as he resumed his pacing, "I think if anything this whole damn thing has shown me that even when you think you know somebody…". He bit his lip and shrugged, "You'd think if someone actually loved somebody they wouldn't be so quick to give them up." With biting sarcasm in his voice he added, "Maybe youdon't know Mary as well as you think you do."
Lucy gaped at Wyatt, burning, angry tears brimming in her eyes. "Mary? You're blaming Mary?" she whispered dangerously, "John's the one who…." Wyatt turned and stared back at her and she stopped herself, biting her lip in remorse. She hated this…she hated all of it…but she had to get him to understand. "Wyatt," she argued, her voice choked with emotion, "No one who really loved someone could keep them from being with the person…the person they were meant to be with…the person they truly loved."
Wyatt started, a flush rising in his cheek as he quickly turned on his heel and let out a curse. His pacing resumed, though now, if possible, more agitated than ever before. "You don't know…" he scoffed, "we could…there could be…you just don't…we can't…"
"Wyatt," Lucy pleaded with him gently, "It's hard, I know…because we know Mary and we don't want to see her hurt but…Wyatt, think of Jane. Think of everything she has gone through…what she will go through…" Lucy amended, "just to get back home to her husband…and John is her husband…who loves her…" she paused, before heaving a sigh and adding quietly, "who never stopped loving her."
With that last statement, Wyatt footsteps ceased once more and though Lucy, could not look up, she could feel his eyes boring into her. Turning away from him, she quickly wiped away the tears that betrayed her true feelings on the matter and pushed herself up and away from the table, determined to do something…anything than just sit there and be analyzed by Wyatt.
She had just eased her way over to the dry sink, when Wyatt's voice, low and filled with emotion, resonated behind her, "You can't tell me that John didn't…doesn't love Mary."
Bracing herself against the cabinet, Lucy turned slightly. "I…I…." she stammered, not sure of what to say. It didn't signify whether or not John loved Mary…Jane was his wife…the woman he truly loved…everything else was just…
Wyatt stepped forward anxiously and pressed, "He loves Mary, right? You've seen them together? Or are you trying to tell me he doesn't give a damn about her? That this…that this isn't going to tear him apart?"
Lucy couldn't help it - she stared back at Wyatt in shock. She hadn't really considered how John might feel in giving up Mary. Why would she – when John was getting back the love of his life? Mary's plight was one thing, but John…he…he… "It…it doesn't matter." Lucy finally argued feebly.
"How can you say that?" he demanded. "You seriously think it's not going to matter to John? What he's going to have to do to Mary?"
Lucy scoffed. Her feelings about the entire situation, conflicted though they were, had unquestionably given her a bit of a bias. Whatever romantic notions she had had about John and Jane Fraser's reunion had all but disappeared when she met and befriended Mary Fraser. She knew that John would be doing the right thing by standing by his wife…she knew that Mary understood it was the right thing…and that by standing aside she was proving her love for John ten times over. But she also knew that Mary's heart would be broken over it and John…no matter what she tried to convince herself of his indifference, would undoubtedly be heartbroken as well….if only because he was causing pain to a woman he had come to love and appreciate in the absence of Jane.
It still did not signify, however. Whatever John's feelings for Mary, they were nothing compared to his feelings for Jane…and as such his pain…hisheartache would be of short duration, whereas Mary would have to live forever with the knowledge that she was only ever second best.
"No…I'm sure it matters…or it will for a little while." Lucy replied, her frustration mounting as she turned more fully to face Wyatt, "Surely you of all people can understand how John would feel seeing Jane again." she spat out, her lip trembling with emotion as she continued, "I mean, think about how you would feel if…if Jessica was here…now. You'd leave. You wouldn't even think twice about it…would you?"
Wyatt gaped at Lucy, staring at her as if she had slapped him, but as Lucy noted with grim satisfaction…he didn't deny it. Shaking his head, Wyatt turned away from her, cursing and pacing until he finally, he had had enough. Letting out a disbelieving scoff of disgust, he marched towards their front door, wrenching his coat from off the hook and muttering angrily that he needed to "get some air." Before Lucy could even protest, Wyatt slammed the door behind him leaving her staring after him in stunned amazement.
"What the hell was that about?" Rufus breathed out after a while, breaking the awkward silence that had descended following Wyatt's exit.
Lucy startled.
She had forgotten he was there.
She wanted to respond, but she could feel more tears prickling at her eyes and didn't trust her voice. Instead she let out a shuddering sigh and sank into her rocking chair, pulling the heavy quilt Mrs. Poe had allowed them to borrow over her and curling her feet underneath her. Cocooned within its warmth, Lucy remembered with a pang that it wasn't so long ago that she and Wyatt had both sought refuge under its downy folds….and now, now everything had changed.
Or stayed the same.
She wasn't quite sure anymore.
Rufus, whose presence she was almost heedless of, crouched down on the floor in front of her, "Hey, you okay?" he asked with genuine concern.
Lucy offered him a watery smile and nodded, blinking away the tears that were still precariously perched on her lashes. "I'm okay." she blubbered slightly, "I just…I didn't think he would take it so hard." She turned her head towards the door with concern, "Do…do you think he'll be alright?"
"It's Wyatt." Rufus dismissed, "he can take care of himself." Frowning at her, he took her hand in his, "I think it's really awesome that Jane Fraser is still alive…and I think, once he gets over the shock of it all…Wyatt will think so too."
Lucy snorted in disbelief, "You'd think that he would be happy for John." she argued feebly.
Rufus frowned at her and shook his head. He had long suspected Wyatt Logan of harboring feelings towards one Lucy Preston and while he hadn't expected Wyatt to react quite so strongly to the news of Jane Fraser's undeadness…he wasn't really all that surprised. Conflicted as his friend was, constantly feeling torn between the woman he lost and the woman he obviously cared for…maybe even loved…this whole mess hit a little too close to home…and it showed.
He was a little less certain, however, of how Lucy felt towards Wyatt. He knew she cared about him…saw how devastated she had been when they thought he had been killed, had seen the two of them together countless times to be convinced that they would be great together…even if they didn't know it themselves. But Lucy was also naturally kind and caring. For every hug she offered Wyatt, she gave twice as many to himself. She may have found herself cuddled up to Wyatt on more than one occasion, but Rufus suspected it was Wyatt doing most of the snuggling…even if he didn't want to admit it. Lucy was also still engaged and while he knew she didn't even know the guy, she also hadn't bothered to break up with him either. Teasing Lucy about being hung up on Wyatt, therefore, seemed…inappropriate and so he hadn't really ribbed her in the same way he had ribbed Wyatt and really had no way to gauge her feelings other than what he observed on the surface…and right now, he could see that she was hurting. "I think," Rufus attempted carefully, his voice dropping down to a serious whisper, "that Wyatt…has it bad for Mary Fraser."
If he was hoping to get Lucy to smile with that attempt at levity, he wasn't disappointed. Her laugh, always one to brighten a room, resonated through the cabin despite the tears that were still pooling in her eyes. Sighing and throwing up her hands in resignation, she exclaimed, "It's not like I want Mary to have her heart broken, but there's nothing I can do about it. This is the way it's supposed to be."
"Are you sure?" Rufus asked, a grin pulling at his face, "Because…"
"I'm positive, Rufus."
"So…it's fate?" he replied with a teasing grin, knowing how many arguments she and Wyatt had had over that one word over the past few months.
"I'll let you try to tell Wyatt that." she scoffed, rolling her eyes at the thought of how well that conversation would go down. "For someone who has spent five years mourning the loss of his wife," Lucy observed quietly, "you'd think that something like this would…that it would give him hope…even if that hope is…"
"A pipe dream?" Rufus supplied, "A long shot?" When Lucy looked back at him, offended by his callousness, he pressed, "There was never any guarantee that anything he did or could ever do would save his wife. Unlike Jane Fraser," Rufus pointed out, "Jessica is actually dead."
"Yes, but Rufus…you know how this works." Lucy explained with a sniff, "one difference in the timeline could change everything."
"Yeah," Rufus shrugged, "or it could change nothing. The point is, Lucy," he maintained, "John Fraser only thought his wife was dead…Wyatt's wife? She's actually dead and has been for five years." he reiterated. "No matter which way you slice it – he and John Fraser aren't the same. Not really."
"You heard him, though, Rufus." Lucy sniffed as she sank back into her quilt, "just meeting him changed his whole outlook on life." She looked back at him meaningfully, "Whether their situations are the same or not, Wyatt identifies with him…he understands him…or at least he thought he did. Now…now he's…he's lost that."
"Uh-huh." Rufus mused sardonically. "And that's why you think he's so upset? Because John Fraser can't be his buddy anymore now that he's getting his wife back?"
"Not exactly that." Lucy replied with a slight roll of her eyes, "I just mean that…Wyatt finally found someone who understood a little of what he was going through. He thought he had found a kindred spirit…but as it turns out, Jane Fraser never died…and so…."
"And so…Wyatt is pissed as hell that Mary Fraser is getting the shaft?" Rufus pressed meaningfully.
Lucy paused and shifted uncomfortably in her chair, "I don't…what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I think you're right…I think Wyatt does identify with John Fraser…which is why I think he can understand how conflicted someone like that might feel in a situation like this."
"Conflicted?" Lucy scoffed, "Rufus, you know as well as I do how much Wyatt wants to get Jessica back. It's all he's ever talked about, it's all he ever thinks about…."
"Maybe." Rufus shrugged, "or maybe he saw how happy John Fraser was with Mary and decided that maybe…" he added with a meaningful nod, "it was time to move on himself."
Lucy stared back at him, an unbidden flush rising in her cheek. Shifting uncomfortably, she averted her eyes from Rufus' pointed gaze and shrugged, "I…I don't…Wyatt loves Jessica." she dismissed off-handedly, "He always has…and he always will. You heard him the other night, Rufus…just the idea of…of someone taking her place?" Lucy shook her head, "No…whatever this is…it has nothing to do with me."
Yet even as she said that she couldn't help but wonder if it had. She had had her suspicions, after all…when Wyatt talked about his whole new outlook on life and starting over…that maybe…but how many times had she had that same hope of maybe only to have Wyatt later confirm, what, in her mind, she already knew to be true?
Ugh. She had no idea what was going through his brain; just days ago Wyatt had reminded her that she was "not really his wife" - a fact she was very much aware of…but tonight? Tonight had been…different. It wasn't just that he had been attentive, caring, thoughtful…that was just part of the whole playing a role thing. But was it? All through that dinner party there was just something…something that didn't feel like it was just a role. It felt real…and while she wasn't sure how much of that stemmed from her own personal feelings, she knew that in all the time she had known Wyatt, he had never once been that at ease with her…fake relationship or no. The way he complimented her without the slightest hint of self-consciousness, the way he had tucked her into his side on the way home when there were no prying eyes to perform for, how he had said he had wanted to start over…and then in front of the fire, she was almost positive that if Rufus hadn't been there…
No. She wouldn't do this to herself again. Wyatt would never…
"Are you sure about that Lucy?" Rufus pressed. "I mean, the man just did say that he would protect you over John & Mary Fraser…and…"
"Because it's his job." Lucy spat out in exasperation, "Rufus, please…I get what you're trying to do…but really…it's not necessary. Even if Wyatt had ever actually entertained thoughts of moving on…even if what you're saying is true…that he's upset because of…because of…" she huffed out an annoyed breath, "Let's just say that Jane Fraser coming back from the dead, isn't exactly going to encourage him to move on withanyone…let alone me." As Rufus made to argue, Lucy stopped him, her eyes pleading with him to see reason, "If that is why he's so upset for Mary Fraser…he's already made that clear." Slinking down further into her quilt and shifting away from Rufus, she muttered, almost to herself, "His choice will always be Jessica."
The howling winds beat against Wyatt's stony face as he trudged his way up and down the mud rutted path that linked John Fraser's home with their small wooden cabin. He had no idea how long he had been at his relentless and aimless march - he wasn't exactly keeping track of the time. No, his mind was far too pre-occupied for that.
He felt numb…and not just because of the cold.
Jane Fraser was alive and Lucy…Lucy knew the whole damn time. She befriended Mary Fraser…sat and talked with John…and never once hinted…never once told him that the wife he loved…the wife he believed was murdered, the wife he had mourned…was very much alive. How could she not tell him something like that? Hell, how could she let any of them believe that Jane Fraser was dead? How could she allow John to go on and on about his love for Mary when…when…
Wyatt kicked out at nothing, pissed as hell that he had been so stupid.
Lucy didn't give a damn…so why the hell should he?
Angry tears sprang to his eyes as he plowed through the driving wind, doing his damndest not to care all the while knowing that he did.
He cared too damn much.
For five years he had mourned Jessica. Five years of wishing he could go back and change that one night. Five years of being so filled with guilt and regret that the thought of betraying her memory with another woman…well, it just wasn't even something he would ever consider. Sure, there'd be flirtations here and there…he wasn't dead…but to entertain the thought of actually moving on?
Hell no.
Living a life filled with regret and misery…he deserved no less after failing his wife so completely. How could he possibly dream of finding happiness again when, because of him, Jessica was lying in her grave?
But then he met Lucy.
He shouldn't have felt anything for her beyond that of a fellow team member and co-worker…hell, she infuriated the hell out of him half the time…but that was just it, she had gotten under his skin, taken root somewhere…and made him feel things he hadn't felt in a hell of a long time. His respect for her, his admiration…had grown and developed over the course of their time together and now…now that he had finally felt that maybe - maybe it was time to let go and move on, he was given one hell of a reminder why that was a bad idea.
By moving on, John Fraser had unknowingly thrown his life into complete chaos. By moving on, John Fraser was going to be hurting both of the women he loved. By moving on, John Fraser was going to be forced to make an impossible choice…and so yes, Wyatt was understandably mortified by the idea.
It was the whole reason why he had never seriously entertained the thought of moving on himself…even before the job at Mason. Too hung up on Jessica's murder, too obsessed with finding her killer, he knew he couldn't devote time to a new relationship. Hell, he had no desire to even try. Not when he was the reason his first one went all to hell. So what if he was attracted to Lucy? Having that time machine, knowing that the slightest change to history could have far reaching effects. Hell…Lucy lost her sister and gained a damn fiancé just because the Hindenburg didn't blow up when it was supposed to. One damn difference to the timeline…one - and her entire life was changed…possibly forever.
Couldn't the same thing happen to him? If one mission, one difference could erase someone from existence, couldn't it also bring somebody back into it?
It's not like he hadn't tried. That telegram he had sent in Vegas…when he thought for sure, Lucy was going to tear him a new one…but she didn't. Somehow, she understood.
She always understood…a little too damn well.
I mean, think about how you would feel if…if Jessica was here…now. You would leave. You wouldn't even think twice about it…would you?"
As the memory of her sharp rebuke came back to him, Wyatt sank down on a weathered tree stump, helpless and numb, as an icy wind pierced him right through the heart. He shivered and rubbed his hands roughly over his knees, cursing his very existence.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Five years. Five damn years he kept himself aloof and alone. How many dates had his well-meaning buddies fixed him up on? How many women's phone numbers went straight into the garbage the minute their benefactors walked out of sight? How many parties had he avoided just because he knew the invitation was just a ruse to get him back on the scene again?
Too many.
But he had done it, hadn't he? Lived a life of detachment? No strings. No commitments - other than those of his Delta Force team - but then he had to go and take the damn assignment at Mason. And now, here he was…stranded in the 18th century…pretending to be married to Lucy…and well, he had been reminded of what exactly it was he had been missing…and dammit, he had missed it.
Lucy wasn't Jessica…hell, she wasn't even really his wife…but she was Lucy and while they had never once even gone out on a date, living together like this had opened up his mind to how…how life could be. He may have reluctantly married her to keep her safe out here…to give them a place to live in this unfriendly wilderness…but he couldn't deny that it was nice to have someone to come home to….someone to have dinner with…someone to talk to, laugh with. His lonely existence had been just that - lonely. To now have Lucy, whether it was real or not always with him…was…well, it was nice. Someone to spend time with, someone to wake up next to, someone to share knowing smiles with from across a room. To have people tell him privately and not so privately how damn lucky he was to have someone as amazing as her as his wife? To have people believe that the two of them could actually be…parents?
Wyatt leaned forward and rested his head in his hands at the thought, his whole body racked with grief at the hint of something that could never really be. He had told Lucy he hadn't given a damn about all of those ridiculous rumors, but the truth was…he had. Jessica had always wanted a baby…wanted a boy…and he had always put it off. "After the next mission," he told her, "We'll try after this next assignment…" he promised- but they never had. He scoffed, he always thought they'd have more time…and his procrastination was one of the biggest regrets of his life.
What had Rufus said? When your life expectancy is only about forty years you don't have time to be wasting on…unimportant things.
Hell, Jessica hadn't even made it to forty.
Wyatt swallowed hard as that bitter truth settled upon him. How many things had she missed out on? How much living had she been denied because…because of him? The time he thought they had…well, it was gone. They had been married all of four years before…before the trouble started…before his career and her wants started setting them at odds with one another. If he had just been a better husband…if he had just listened to her when she told him she was tired of being alone….
Regret and self-loathing almost threatened to consume him when through the howling winds, John Fraser's words came hurtling into his overwrought brain…."A part of you will always grieve them, love them…but another part of you still has to live, my boy…even with the guilt of knowing that things might have been different…if you had been there."
John Fraser had decided to live rather than waste any more time with grief…and while Wyatt could hardly envy him the choice he was going to have to make in a few months time, he couldn't deny that John Fraser had lived far better than he had. How much time had he wasted? In his marriage? After Jessica's death? He shook his head…hell, how much time was he still wasting? Five years of mourning, of trying so damn hard to find Jessica's murderer…five years of denying himself even the idea of happiness.
And what had it gotten him?
Nothing.
Jessica's murder was still unsolved. She was still dead…and he, he was still as miserable as he had ever been.
Well…almost as miserable as he'd ever been.
Before? At that dinner party? He had hope. For the first time in five damn years, he actually had real hope. Yes, he knew it was all fake…Lucy had seen to that, after all, but dammit, he was trying – trying so damn hard to embrace the idea of moving on. His conversation with John Fraser had only served to heighten his resolve. Commissioning in the Army? Sure, it was the Redcoats…but damn it all, if it didn't intrigue him. Him…as a British officer? He almost laughed out loud at the thought…but was it so crazy? He was a soldier. To take his 21st century knowledge and apply it to 18th century battle lines? Hell, they did this kind of thing for fun in training school. And given how much privilege officers in these early days had…he knew John Fraser was right - he and Lucy would be set up for life…a better life than he had ever known in the 21st century, that was for damn sure. Rufus' skills were already proving that they could manage well enough without having to go without all of the luxuries they were used to. They could do it…they could survive and life a comfortable, easy life. Just the idea that he could start over? Centuries away from the pain and anguish of his past mistakes? Starting a new life at the dawn of a new country? With a new wife…and the hope of a family? A chance to try again?
Dammit, it felt real…it felt right…for the first time since before he married Jessica he felt like a whole world of opportunity was open to him…
He shuddered as an icy cold blast of wind drove through him, reminding him of the reality of his situation. Lucy was not his wife. They were stuck here, sure…maybe indefinitely, maybe not, but one thing was for sure…they didn't belong here. No matter how tempting it might be to stay, start over…he couldn't.
This wasn't just about him. Lucy and Rufus were in this too and neither of them were alone like he was. Rufus had his mother and brother who cared about him, depended on him…and Lucy, she had her mother…and a damn fiancé. A fiancé she hadn't once mentioned since they landed in this century, Wyatt thought with a smirk, but that little bit of hope disappeared when remembered the whole reason for the fiance. Amy. If they never left this century, Lucy would never have the chance to save her sister…and he, he would never have the chance to bring Jessica's killer to justice…and possibly save her life.
Because Lucy was right…Jessica had to be his priority. She was his wife. His real wife…and if she were ever to come back…
Wyatt swallowed hard.
This was just a role. Lucy had seen to that, hadn't she? Changing the name on the marriage certificate. And then there was her reaction to the idea that they could ever be….yes, it was a ridiculous rumor given that they hadn't so much as kissed, but the fact that she was bothered by just the ideaof becoming a parent, bothered Wyatt. For him, it was a perfectly natural assumption and something that, if their circumstances had been different, he could visualize perfectly. Not a boy like Jessica wanted…but a little girl…with dark hair like hers and eyes like his. He would teach her how to fight and shoot and Lucy would sit her on her knee and tread her stories and teach her things like history and languages and…
Oh who was he kidding? Lucy probably never even wanted a kid…least of all with him.
Shivering, he pushed himself off his rustic stool and resumed his march down the lane, his limbs throbbing with pain from the cold wind reminding him that it was high time he had headed back to the cabin, no matter how much right now, he's rather be anywhere else. It was hard for him to believe that just a few short hours ago he had been happily cooking dinner for Rufus and Tom, anticipating an evening out with Lucy and grateful for a chance to redeem himself.
And dammit, he thought he had. He thought for sure that if Rufus hadn't…
But it didn't matter did it? Lucy made it pretty damn clear how she really felt.
Her indifference to him, to Mary…to the whole damn situation had given him a sharp kick in the ass as to why he never should have agreed to this whole damn thing in the first place.
No, he should have just told John Fraser the truth about them. Lucy wasn't his…his anything….she was just his friend, his co-worker. To hell with her reputation. It's not like they had done anything or would ever do anything to call that into question.
Well, not in the 21st century sense anyway.
Sure, he slept next to her and helped her get undressed…and okay, he saw her naked….but dammit that was an accident. And it's not like he hadn't been paying the price for that little misstep for weeks. How many nights had she invaded his dreams? How many times had he been grateful for cold mornings? Living with her, sleeping next to her…it was becoming an full blown exercise in self-control and he…he was miserably failing. How guilty had he felt about how awful he treated her…that…that night? And why had he done that? Because of his own overactive, sex starved brain. He could chock it up to five years of being alone and suddenly living with and sleeping next to a woman…any woman…but he couldn't deny that while his loneliness had probably paid a big role in his nightly fantasies of Lucy, the bigger reason for those fantasies was that he was absolutely, 100% attracted to her.
He had tried to deny it. In that New Jersey jail cell in 1937, he would never admit that he had looked at her bare back and liked what he saw…not after she had jumped down his throat for calling her ma'am…not after she had torn him inside and out for bringing a modern gun to the Hindenburg…certainly not after she had ribbed him for flirting with Kate Drummond. But as mission after mission went on, there was always something….
Her date with Robert Todd Lincoln, that damn rock of an engagement ring on her finger, that dress in Vegas, overhearing Judith Campbell ask if they were sleeping together, Ian Fleming fawning all over her like she was a piece of meat…
She wasn't his type…not by a long shot…but then again, she was everything he could ever want. Smart, beautiful, funny, caring…
Or was she?
Wyatt shuddered as he remembered how coldly she had dismissed the fate of Mary Fraser…not unlike the way she had dismissed the death of Kate Drummond. It was "just the way things were supposed to be," she said. Fate…as if fate made it all okay. He scoffed, kicking up muddy clumps as he marched on, thinking about all the other ways Lucy had been so unfeeling. She said she had tried to stop Lincoln's assassination…but had she? Wyatt had his doubts. Changing history to that extent? Lucy Preston would never. But secretly chatting with Garcia Flynn as he rampaged his way through history? She was absolutely up for that. What had he said? They'd be quite the team one day? "Yeah, I bet." Wyatt scoffed roughly as he made his way onto the porch. With a huff, he pushed through the door half expecting a lecture on his outburst or a reprimand for being out so late…
But neither came.
The cabin, which had been brightly lit when he had left, was now awash in a soft amber-like glow, the lively fire that had occupied the grate having dimmed considerably in his absence. The faint sound of Rufus' snores drifted down from the darkened loft above and Lucy, though sleeping, was not sleeping in the bed, cold and unconcerned about his return. No. She was nestled in her rocking chair, as if in anxious expectation for him, halfway covered by the quilt Mrs. Poe had lent them.
The sight of her in that chair served as a powerful reminder of how she had watched over him night and day when he had been so sick with the infection from his burns. The same burns he sustained when she had come to John Fraser's, in the middle of the night, looking for him. When she put aside her own distaste for blood and gore to help him…and every other poor bastard who had been roughed up in that attack.
How many nights had she spent in that damn chair? How many hours had she spent dressing his wounds, feeding him…keeping him alive? He remembered that one night, after his fever broke…waking up to see her sitting there, her head resting to the side, her feet curled up beneath her…and how strange it made him feel to have someone give a damn after so many years of…nothing.
No. Whatever he had tried to tell himself about Lucy's indifference, he knew…he knew deep down…that just wasn't true. Whatever she felt, he was sure…she wasn't completely indifferent…and he was right back at square one wasn't he?
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
With a sigh he bent down in front of the fireplace and threw a few more logs on the dying fire, his nearly frozen hands and feet thawing as the warmth from the hearth enveloped him in a comforting embrace. He was home…whatever that was…and right now, that home was with Lucy…
Even if it was all just a lie.
Notes:
Another update and you didn't have to wait 4 months or whatever it was. LOL!
We're still not QUITE done with Jane Fraser's story yet - there is a bit more to tell, not much...and I really debated adding the rest of it here, but I liked where I ended this chapter and will just leave the rest for the next one - I think it will flow a little better there...especially after they've both had a bit of a chance to sleep on all of this. Here story really is quite fascinating and very sad. She was only 19 when she married John Fraser and was traveling with their hired hand when they were set upon by a raiding party. She apparently fainted and woke up to find her hired hand murdered and herself surrounded by Native Americans who were kidnapping her...because she was "pretty". It was an almost 500 mile trek to the village they took her to in Ohio near the Miami River...and she was fairly far along in her pregnancy. She gave birth there...and the baby died before it reached three months. In her journal, she writes about how she was pretty much out of her mind with grief...and then two Ducthmen were kidnapped and brought into the tribe and she conspired with them to make an escape. They didn't get very far together before one or both of them got sick and then she took off on her own, desperate to get back to her husband. Her neighbors found her first, I imagine looking something awful and they cleaned her up, dressed her and brought her home in a great big procession.
Now I have to say here, this didn't happen historically until 1755...so I took a bit of poetic license and moved her kidnapping up a bit so it would fit in the story. (Because REALLY nothing happens in the fall of 1754 and I had to get creative to give them something to do other than just cook and hunt and blacksmith and I desperately wanted their presence to cause some issues that they would have to fix, because hello, that's what Timeless is all about, right? ) I really debated and agonized over whether I would have her kidnapping take place while Lucy and Wyatt were there and Wyatt would have to sort of comfort John Fraser and face his own demons...or do it this way..and I opted for this way because I thought ultimately for Lyatt this would have the greater impact to move their story forward. Wyatt feeling like he had someone to relate to - only to be kind of mortified by the idea that he was essentially a torn man...and therefore, very much like our John Fraser in this story and seeing too, the hurt that this development would cause our poor little third wheel, Mary.
This chapter is a bit on the angsty side, but take heart - it's giving them both PLENTY to think about.
As always, I hope you enjoyed this update and I thank you very much for reading.