Hope I'm not spoiling you again by getting this chapter up quickly! Just a note that the information about Hank's personal background in this chapter is taken from 'California' the spin-off from Dr Quinn, therefore, I don't own the characters of Ben and Brian MacKay. Hope you enjoy!

"Hank…" Emma Jane sobbed against him, burying her face in his hair, her body heaving, "You're here…you're here…" she repeated herself over and over again, clinging to him as if he might vanish at any moment. Hank held her, his arms tightly around her shaking body, yet he was still too stunned to speak. Suddenly, Emma Jane pulled back, "But you shouldn't be here," she said, her face damp and her eyes red, "You shouldn't be here. You weren't supposed to find out like this." She started to back away from him, "You weren't supposed to find out like this."

"Emma…" he spoke finally.

"No," she moved further back, "No, not like this, no!" Then she turned and bolted for the stairs, Hank in close pursuit.

"Emma Jane, wait!" he called, chasing her up the stairs, "Wait!"

"No!" she said, hurrying along to her door as fast as her body would allow her, "No, you shouldn't be here!" she opened the door to her room and threw it shut, but Hank already had his body against it and it opened easily. She scurried to the far corner of the room and stood with her back to him, one hand over her mouth.

"Thought bout a lotta things on the way here," he said, after a pause, "bout what I was gonna find, how I was gonna react. Never thought I'd come and find this." She didn't say anything, "How far along are ya?"

Emma Jane took a deep, shaky breath, "Six months."

Hank sighed, "Why didn't ya tell me in yer letters? Hell, why didn't ya come home the minute ya found out?"

"I couldn't," she replied, "I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't tell you about it because I was afraid."

Hank sighed heavily, "Back to this again? Seems like we've already had this conversation once before. Am I really such a terrible husband?"

She turned at this and looked at him, her eyes wide, "No, of course not."

"So why couldn't ya tell me ya were carrying my child?"

Emma Jane swallowed hard, "Because…because…"

"Because what?"

"Because it might not be your child," she blurted out.

Hank looked at her, "What do ya mean?"

"Think about it, Hank," she said softly.

He paused to think for a moment and then it came to him. She could see the realisation dawning in his face and he looked at her in shock, "Ya think it's…his?"

"I don't know," she sat down on the bed and put a hand over her bump, "There's no way to tell. I've only ever lain with two men my whole life and one of them wasn't even by choice. But it just so happens that I lay with both of them around the same time." She looked over at him, "You made love to me the morning after it happened, Hank. When you came home from Soda Springs? I just don't know…"

Hank sighed and sat down on the bed beside her, "That why ya didn't tell me? Case I didn't want it?"

"I could never ask you to bring up another man's child as your own. It wouldn't be fair." She looked down at her hands, "When I first found out I was expecting, I was horrified and… a little disgusted if the truth be told, thinking about how a man who violated me so violently could have created a new life inside me. Remember what you said to me the night you found out the truth? 'Did he leave behind a little bastard?' Hank closed his eyes briefly. "I thought about what you said, about how it could well be his and…part of me hated it. Part of me wanted it out of me so badly. But…" she smiled gently, "another part of me loved it, because it was my child, mine. Regardless of who its father was." She paused, "I love this baby, Hank. I love it the same way I love Victoria and I can't imagine letting anyone take it from me. It's clung on to life, through everything that's happened since that night," she thought briefly back to Hank's violence towards her, "That's why I didn't tell you, because I knew that if you asked me to choose, I wouldn't be able to choose you."

Hank looked at her, "Ya think I would ask ya to choose?"

She returned his gaze, "Would you?"

He didn't reply. The truth was, there was nothing more repugnant to him than the knowledge his wife could be carrying another man's baby. He looked at her figure, the swelling of her stomach, the fullness of her breasts and he remembered when she had been carrying Victoria.

"Why did you come?" she broke into his thoughts.

"Missed ya," he replied simply, "spent the past six months miserable without ya. Guess I figured I could come here an' win ya back," he grinned at her, "Ya missed me?"

"Of course," she leaned her head against his shoulder, "every day, like a pain that wouldn't go away. I asked myself, long before I knew I was pregnant, whether or not I had done the right thing by leaving, or whether I should have stayed and tried to work things out."

"Fact is, I was stubborn," he replied, "didn't give ya a chance to explain or make things right. Just ended up makin' things ten times worse."

Emma Jane knew he was thinking about Jessica. "You were angry," she said, "I should have told you everything from the beginning and I didn't. I don't blame you for Jessica."

Hank looked at her sideways, knowing that she didn't know the true picture, "Saloon ain't been the same since ya left. Not to mention the fact Michaela stuck her nose in, as usual."

"She did?"

He nodded, "Said I hadn't stopped ya from leavin' cause I was afraid. And I hadn't come after ya because I was afraid." He sighed, "She was right."

"What were you afraid of?" Emma Jane asked.

"That ya'd blame me for what happened. That ya wouldn't want to come back anyway. Fact is, I blame myself."

"It wasn't your fault, Hank," she tried to reassure him, "You weren't even there."

"Exactly."

"The only person to blame for what happened to me is the man who attacked me. Everything after that is our fault, and I mean our fault. Not just yours." She put her hand on his arm.

"Where's yer ring?" he said, noticing it was gone.

"I was robbed on the train to Boston," she confessed.

Hank looked at her in concern, "Didn't hurt ya did they?"

"No," she shook her head, "but he pointed a pretty big gun in my face so I thought it might be silly to refuse to hand it over."

He kissed her hand where the ring had once been, "Sorry I weren't there to protect ya. Sorry for everythin'." He looked over at her, "Why didn't ya really tell me what happened to ya that night?"

"I told you," she replied, "I was afraid of what you might do and say. Turns out I was right." Hank winced, "I didn't mean…I'm not talking about what happened between us that night," she thought back to him striking her, "I just mean…I'm not even sure."

Hank looked at her, "I love ya, Emma Jane. Always have, always will. Know I ain't always been the best husband to ya and I ain't always treated ya right, but…I love ya more than I've ever loved anyone in the world."

"I love you too," she replied, "and I wanted this to happen for so long. But…" she stood up and looked out of the window.

"But what?"

"But there's so much that's happened, so much that's changed." She touched her stomach again, "like this for example." She turned to look at him, "I want this to be your child, Hank, more than anything. But I can't give you that guarantee."

Hank regarded her steadily, the woman he loved more than anything, her body softly rounded with child. Maybe his child, maybe not., but he didn't know if he could walk away from her for the rest of his life, never hold her in his arms, never have her near him and never see the child he knew was definitely his.

"Ever tell ya bout my brother?"

"Nicholas? Of course."

"Not that brother. I mean my other brother, Brian."

Emma Jane looked at him in surprise, "I didn't know that you had another brother."

Hank nodded, "After my Pa died, my Ma met this rich guy in Texas, Ben MacKay. He nearly ran her over with his carriage in the town we lived in." He smiled to himself, "She was a fiery one, my Ma, and she gave him what for fer nearly killin' her. Anyways, next thing we know, he started comin' to our house to see Ma. Course we didn't know what they did when he came, always told to go to bed." His smile faded, "Not long after, Ma fell pregnant and had Brian. Thought he was the ugliest little thing I'd ever seen, all fat and fussin'. Ma loved him though and she thought that this fella would leave his wife and come be with her."

"But he didn't?"

Hank shook his head, "No. 'Stead, he rode out one night, took Brian from her and took him back to his wife. Guess they figured half a child was better than none at all." He looked up at Emma Jane, "Ma never got over losin' Brian. Wasted away, hopin' and prayin' that some day he'd come back, but course he never did. She died never knowin' what had happened to her son."

"Why didn't she try and get him back? He was her son?"

"MacKay was powerful. Ma didn't stand a chance." He stood up and came and stood in front of her, "I seen what losin' her child did to my Ma, so ain't no way in Hell I could ever tell ya to give yours up." He reached forward and put his hand gently on her stomach, "Hell, fifty-fifty chance it's mine anyhow."

"You mean it?" Emma Jane asked, tears hovering in her eyes, "You'd let me come home even if it's not…"

"Aw Emma…" Hank pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head gently, "Ain't never gonna turn ya away from our home, never."

Emma Jane sighed happily, "Thank you," she whispered, "thank you."

He pulled back from her and kissed her gently, "So, I figure we should celebrate, don't you? Can't come all the way to New York and not go to one of them fancy restaurants."

Emma Jane's smile slipped, "What?"

"Gonna take my wife out for dinner."

"I…Hank, I…I can't," she said.

"How come? Ya not feelin' so good?"

She wanted to tell him how awful she was feeling, but even besides that, it wasn't the real reason. "No, it's not that. It's…well…"

"Well what?"

"Women in my condition aren't supposed to go to restaurants."

He looked at her, "In yer condition?" She nodded, "Seem to remember when ya was pregnant with Victoria ya was out and about in town all the time."

"That's different," she protested, "that was Colorado Springs, this is New York. Things are different here. It's not fitting to be seen out when you're expecting."

Hank put his finger under her chin and tilted it up towards him, "Since when have ya ever cared bout what was fittin'? Seems to me you've already scandalised most of the city. Might as well finish the job."

Emma Jane smiled wanly. The last thing she wanted to do was to go out. All she wanted to do was sleep.

SSSS

The Burberry Hotel was one of the best hotels in the city with one of the best restaurants. When they alighted from the carriage outside, Emma Jane paused, silently wondering how on earth Hank was intending on paying. In her previous life, she had been a regular guest at the Burberry and she knew that most of New York's elite liked to eat here. Hank was wearing his best outfit, but the maitre'd still cast his eyes disapprovingly over him as they entered the restaurant. As he showed them to a table, Emma Jane glanced around and saw various people that she knew, pausing in their conversations to look at her. She had never felt so self-conscious in her life.

"Very nice," Hank commented, once they had sat down. He leaned over to her, "Which fork is it for what?"

Emma Jane felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and the beginnings of a headache, "Start from the outside and work in," she advised as the waiter handed them menus. Glancing down at the description of what she knew from experience was delicious cuisine, she found herself feeling slightly nauseous.

"Don't know what half this stuff is," Hank commented. "Don't know why they can't just have it in plain English."

"Just take the meat," she advised, "it was always lovely from what I remember." She shrugged off the shawl she was wearing, "It's rather warm in here, isn't it?"

"Ain't noticed to be honest," Hank replied, putting down his menu and looking at her, "Ya a'right? Ya look a little flushed."

"Just tired," she replied, "It was a long trip back from Boston."

"Your landlady said ya went there but she wouldn't say why?" he said, "In all the excitement, I forgot to ask."

Emma Jane sighed, "Do you remember Carolyn?"

He grinned, "Course."

"Well, when I first arrived at the boarding house, I discovered she was staying there too. I wasn't best pleased as you can imagine, but funnily enough, we became friends. She tried to warn me about the Black Bull, the bar I was working in," she added for his benefit, "It wasn't a great place. Anyway…" she hurried on before he could question her about the bar, "It turned out that she had syphilis," she paused, "she died on Christmas Eve."

"Sorry."

"She wrote a letter to her parents that she wanted me to send to them after she was gone, but…I couldn't bear the thought of them hearing about her death by letter, so I went to Boston to see them myself." She swallowed hard against a lump in her throat, "They were so terribly devastated, Hank, it was awful to see them. I kept thinking about what I would do if it was Victoria."

He reached over and took her hand, "Well it ain't, so stop thinkin' about it."

"She wasn't that much older than me."

"Carolyn made her choice in life, even long before ya came to the saloon." He looked up as the waiter came back, "What we havin'?"

Emma Jane ordered for them both and then turned back to him, "I know, it's just…"

"Well, well, Mrs Lawson," Georgina Bowman's voice filtered towards them, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Emma Jane looked up and saw Georgina followed closely by Clara, who looked uncomfortable, "Mrs Bowman, what a pleasant surprise."

"Indeed," Mrs Bowman replied, her eyes moving to Hank, "Won't you introduce me to your companion?"

Emma Jane grit her teeth, "Georgina Bowman, this is Hank Lawson, my husband."

"Pleased to meet you," Hank stood up and offered his hand, but Mrs Bowman just looked at it.

"Charmed I'm sure," she replied.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Lawson," Clara said, taking Hank's hand, "I'm Clara and I'm engaged to Emma Jane's brother, Thomas."

"That's enough, Clara," Mrs Bowman said curtly, "Well, as I was saying, Emma Jane, I wouldn't have thought you would be dining out in the city. Not in your…delicate condition."

"Well, my husband came to see me and we thought it only fitting to come out for dinner," Emma Jane replied as confidently as she could.

"Yes, quite." Mrs Bowman leaned in closer, "You know, my dear, it really isn't the done thing to be parading oneself around town when one is expecting," She straightened back up, "but I suppose we have you to thank for Emma Jane's defiant ways, have we not Mr Lawson?"

Hank looked as though he might like to hit the woman, "I don't tell Emma Jane what to do. Got a mind of her own."

"I'm sure she does." Mrs Bowman sniffed disapprovingly, "Well, do enjoy your meal. Come along Clara." With that, they swept away.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Hank demanded loudly.

"Just leave it, Hank," Emma Jane replied, "She's one of the worst kind. She's done nothing but insult me since I came back here," she took a long drink of water, "let's just forget her. We came out for dinner, let's enjoy it."

But Emma Jane didn't. The food was delicious, but she could barely taste her. Her head felt so heavy and sore and her limbs were aching even in a seated position. What's more, the pain in her abdomen had increased, no matter how she shifted herself in her seat, it refused to go away. When the meal was over, she watched in amazement as he pulled out a wad of notes to pay for it.

"Where did you…?" she asked.

"Took it from the saloon," he grinned at her.

"Hank…" she protested, "You shouldn't have done that. It's your livelihood."

"Our livelihood," he said, taking her hand again, "Can't wait to git ya back there."

"I can't wait to go back," she echoed, "but right now…"

"I know," he interrupted, "Gotta get back to the boardin' house so we can…" he raised his eyebrows at her.

That wasn't quite what Emma Jane had had in mind, but she smiled weakly in response. Getting herself to her feet, she swayed slightly, but Hank didn't notice. They made their way out of the restaurant and back onto the street where Hank hailed one of the carriages.

"Gotta ride in style," he told her as he helped her up.

Emma Jane didn't say anything. She sat in the carriage, her body pressed against her husband's. The feeling of him being near to her was welcome, and she felt deep stirrings of desire, but she still felt so incredibly unwell. The carriage pulled up outside the boarding house and Hank helped her down. They went back into the boarding house where Mrs Kimble was standing at the kitchen door.

"Good night, was it?" she asked.

"Yes," Emma Jane replied quietly.

"See ya in the mornin' then," she said with a knowing smile.

Hank and Emma Jane climbed the stairs to her room and Peter met them at the top.

"Here ya go," he said, handing a sleeping Victoria over.

"Thank you Peter," Emma Jane said, taking her daughter. She opened the door to her room and walked inside.

Hank closed the room door behind him and locked it. Then he turned back to Emma Jane who was putting Victoria down in her bed. The little girl had fallen asleep hours earlier, and she didn't stir at her mother's movement. When she was sure Victoria was properly settled, Emma Jane moved over to the bed and lifted her flannel nightshirt from her pillow. Turning her back on her husband, she started to unbutton the front of her dress, only to be foiled as she was unable to reach the ones at her back.

"Hank, would you mind?" she asked, twisting her head to look at him.

Without saying anything, he walked up behind her and slowly unbuttoned the clasps running down her back to the bottom of her spine. Gently, he eased the dress off of her shoulders, allowing his hands to remain on her bare flesh. Emma Jane shivered slightly at his touch, despite her head and body protesting against any form of intimacy. Hank lowered his head and kissed her right shoulder softly, moving up to her neck and her earlobe. Her dress slipped down over her stomach and fell to the floor, leaving her standing in her maternity underwear.

Hank moved his hands slowly down her arms over her goose-pimpled flesh and over her hips to her stomach, where he gently caressed her bump. Emma Jane found herself leaning back against him, pushing her head right back so he could have access to her neck and then twisting around so he could kiss her on the mouth. She turned in his embrace and their mouths met, hunger demanding to be satisfied. Hank pulled her closer to him, being careful not to crush her too tightly, and Emma Jane found her hands in his hair, pulling his face harder against her own.

He unbuttoned the clips at the back of her underwear and, still with his mouth on hers, pulled it down over her body so that she stood before him naked.

"My nightshirt…" she started to say.

"Ain't gonna need it," he replied hoarsely, lifting her up and carrying her over to the bed. Carefully, he laid her down on it and climbed on beside her.

Instinctively, her hands went to his jacket, pulling it off of him and then her fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. He helped her prise the garment from his body, her hands going immediately to the belt around his waist. She pulled it open and ripped it free from his pants, allowing it to fall over the side of the bed, his gun clattering against the floor. They paused briefly to make sure Victoria hadn't wakened and then continued.

Emma Jane's breathing was coming in heavy bursts as Hank finished removing the last of his clothing. He lay beside her and, putting his hand under her buttocks, shifted her closer to him, fully aware he couldn't lie on top of her.

"Emma…" he groaned softly in her ear before his mouth claimed hers again. His kiss was ravenous and she responded with equal desire, wanting him like she'd never wanted anyone in her life. She whimpered as his hand moved over her full breast and slid down to her stomach. She wanted him to touch her in all the right places, wanted to feel the passionate pleasure she had always felt in his arms, remembering well how they had satisfied their desires even right up until the night before Victoria was born. But her head was still pounding and, through the pleasant sensation of his touch against her skin, Emma Jane couldn't help but feel pain as he brushed her flesh, as though her whole body was crying out for him to stop.

Oblivious to any misgivings she might have, Hank ran his hand down the curve of her bottom, and gently between her legs, causing her to moan. Then he started to turn her over onto her opposite side, knowing this was probably the only position that would be comfortable for both of them.

"No," she breathed, resisting his movement, "I…I can't."

Hank pulled himself up and looked down at her, his pupils dilated with desire, "Ya all right?"

"I don't feel very well," she replied honestly, "It started a few days ago and I think it's getting worse My body aches and my head is pounding and I'm so tired…" she almost wanted to cry out of sheer discomfort and frustration. "It was snowing in Boston and I got soaked and…well…the truth is, the baby's been giving me a hard time recently and I don't think I can…" a tear slipped down her cheek.

"It's a'right," Hank said lovingly, "Ain't nothin' worse if ya ain't up to it."

"I want to," she looked at him, her breathing still rapid, "You must know how much I want to."

Hank stroked her cheek gently, "I know ya do. Can see it in them eyes of yours. It don't matter. We've survived this long, guess we can make it a little longer." He bent and kissed her on the mouth.

She smiled gratefully, "Thank you. Maybe tomorrow…"

"Don't worry bout it," he said, "be better when yer feeling more like it."

"Will you hold me anyway?" she asked.

"Course." She rolled over onto her other side and he pushed himself against her back, "Yer gonna have to put up with it for a minute," he said, "just til it gets over the fact it ain't gonna be goin' anywhere tonight."

"Hank…" Emma Jane tried to be shocked, but she laughed instead. His hand rested on the top of her stomach and she placed her own on top of his. It wasn't long before the events of the last few days caught up with her and she fell asleep.

At first, she thought she might be dreaming. Everything was swirling around and around in her head and she felt as though she was flying through the air. Groggily, she forced her tired eyes open and her gaze rested on Victoria's bed, which seemed to be swaying slightly from side to side. Emma Jane blinked a few times, as if to steady her vision, but it didn't help. She lifted her head from the pillow and pain shot through it and when she pressed her hand to her forehead, she could feel a slight heat. The pain in her abdomen came back with a vengeance and she moaned softly. Hank will still lying, dead to the world, beside her, and she was about to wake him, when an unfamiliar smell hit her nostrils.

Glancing over at the door, she gasped, as she saw smoke seeping slowly under it.