Author's Note: The condition Tanya develops is, thankfully, rare. However, before medical advances we have now, women often died from it. Of course we can't lose Tanya, so our hero figures out something else to do.


Mark emerged from the Elder's hut with Grandfather the next morning.

She shot to her feet beside Grandmama. "What happened?" It had sounded like one of the Elders had demanded a consummation within the next couple days.

"Your grandfather is cut off from the Elders, and I'm to be fed to the bears."

"What?!"

He snorted and Grandfather rolled his eyes.

"This isn't the sixteenth century, woman. Your grandfather was praised for wisely handling the situation even though the Elders didn't all agree with him. I was ordered to get you with child within a year."

Grandfather gave Mark a scolding look.

"Alright, I told them I'd have you pregnant soon. Children are an important part of the tribe."

She frowned and fell into step with him. "Why would you decide that on your own? This isn't England where men get all the say."

"So I've noticed," he muttered. "If you recall, you told me a few months ago that you wanted another babe once Charles was a year or two old. He's seven months now."

"Yes, but we also didn't expect to be adapting to tribal life."

He stopped and looked at her. "We have twelve months to start. I'm not proposing we go at it like rabbits starting right now."

Her face burned in embarrassment at the innuendo. "Fine, whenever you decide the brood mare should come out of the barn." She turned on her heel.

"Don't act like I'm some overbearing husband who is making you pop out a dozen brats." He sounded slightly breathless like he hurried on the crutches to catch up to her quick trot.

"He gives you such liberties that you forget what a wife's duties are." Grandmama's quiet but stern tone cut in from her other side. Grandmama's gaze remained forward and back straight, ever the image of an Elder's wife. So, Grandmama had heard the Elder's actual conversation too that demanded consummation soon.

That silenced further protests. Most women were lucky to not be in pain the day after marriage, and here she was complaining that he was willing to wait weeks or months in exchange for a child that she wanted as much as he did.

Mark caught up, and Grandmama veered off with Grandfather toward their new hut. "If you've objections - "

"It's fine."

His gaze could be felt as he seemed to study her profile for a moment. He remained silent the rest of the way home.

Once inside, he got ready to leave with the men for the day while she nursed Charles. This kind of screaming silence hadn't existed since the first days of marriage in England.

With a sack slung across his back, he finally stopped and looked at her with sad eyes. "I don't see you as some possession to force out heirs. I hope you know that."

Giving a slow nod, she locked eyes for a moment, not even knowing how to bring up the subject that a consummation tonight wasn't unwelcome. Self-consciousness and some nerves still clung from last night, preventing the courage to comment.,

"I didn't want to leave like this." He hesitated for a moment. With a nod to himself, his eyes fell to the ground and he left.

Then it dawned that he must think she was angry and he'd been waiting for her reply. "Mark!" Pulling closed the dress, she hurried out with Charles.

He stood a few paces away and waited for her to catch up.

"I was caught by surprise and didn't know what to say. I...I heard the Elders say a consummation - "

"It doesn't matter what they say. It will come in time, when you're not frightened." His brisk tone portrayed his hurt.

"Mark," she protested.

He sighed and looked away.

"You wouldn't hurt me. Grandmama is right that I'm taking advantage of the leeway you give, and this is something that has no harm. I don't know why I got so hysterical last night - "

His head snapped to her, and his eyes narrowed. Every muscle in his body coiled in anger. "You were hysterical because I let you get in a situation that terrified you!" he hissed. "And if your grandmother has an opinion on this, she keeps it to herself or talks to me; she does not guilt you into it!"

She blinked. "I didn't mean that. Mark, you're taking this too hard - "

"Too hard? I watched my wife sob and cower in horrific terror in a way I've never witnessed anyone do! Not even in the kitchen back East when you had a meltdown did you look that terrified of me!" He thumped a fist to his chest. "You were traumatized nearly two years ago, and something about last night made you relive it! Jesus, everyone can keep their goddamn noses out of it! You're my wife and technically already were when we arrived here! I'm becoming goddamn sorry we came!"

Pressing her lips together in embarrassment, she glanced at the people who had begun to stare.

Grandfather came over and set a hand on Mark's shoulder. "Let's go for a hunt and cool down."

But Mark shrugged his hand off and turned. Rather than be embarrassed everyone stared, his neck reddened and he exploded. "No one understands what's going on, and it's no one's business! If anyone makes more comments to my wife about it - "

"Mark." She stepped in front of him and set a hand on his bare chest. "I know you want to protect me, but you can't go threatening everyone. Go hunting. Get away from this for awhile, and we'll figure it out when you get home."

It took some urging, but he finally left still stark raving mad. Hopefully the men knew enough to not provoke him while armed for hunting.


He returned home at sunset, quiet but not in a much better mood. During dinner, he held Charles in his lap but otherwise remained silent.

Once Charles was in bed and asleep, she sat on the cot beside Mark as he rubbed his poor leg from a long day of riding. "You're so quiet." Her hands slipped in to take over for him.

"I'm tired and still angry at the world," he growled but submitted to the massage.

A tiny smile tugged. "I've been thinking. Hear me out first. I want to get it over with. It's so many men being near during it, and that it's supposed to be so quick and emotionless that frightens me - the fact that salve is needed because it's so quick." A glance up revealed him obviously biting his tongue to let her finish.

"I'm afraid because you've always given time for pleasure so it wouldn't hurt and made it so there was nothing to frighten me. The only time without those things, it was horrible pain and so much blood." He opened his mouth, the rage building in his eyes at the mention of the assault, but he closed his mouth when she continued. "The rational part of my mind knows you would never hurt me, but the other part is is too terrified to be reasoned with. I just...I want it over because this fear is going to grow out of control."

He sat silent for a few moments, his jaw muscle twitching under the beard scruff. "I'm just about ready to take you and Charles out of here."

"No, I don't want to go." Grabbing his arm in plea, her heart pounded in distress. "No one looks at us like we're outcasts, and my family is here. Brigands and Teresa are supposed to arrive any day. We can't keep uprooting everyone."

"And I'm not going to watch my wife forced into something that terrifies her for the goddamn sake of following some custom when we're already married. You're not willing and you're scared as hell, which carries little difference from rape, Tanya." His expression turned so very cold and his voice unyielding in a way never witnessed before.

"Please, Mark. It's not rape - I am consenting. Grandfather says the tribe is so close to accepting us."

Clenching his teeth, his eyes flashed in the lantern light, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Setting a hand on his arm, she scooted closer. "Please, just this one last thing - "

"I'm not terrorizing you. When you're that frightened, it's rape." His nostrils flared and chest rose and fell in deep breaths of anger. Distain dripped from his tone.

"It's not rape. You'll be gentle. I didn't understand what to expect yesterday. Please, just get it over with and then no one has to meddle anymore."

"If we leave, there's no reason for anyone to meddle," he hissed, visibly angrier by the minute.

"Please, Mark. This feels like it could be home. Just honor this one last custom."

"Do you hear yourself? Do you understand what you're asking me to do to you?! You'll be terrified of me afterwards!"

"No," she whispered as tears welled, because he might be right that horrific nightmares would happen afterwards. "I won't because you're where it's safe and gentle."

"And that will be destroyed if I agree to this. No." For the next three days, he didn't even initiate a kiss, much less touch.

Each night, he gave the same answer.

"We can't never make love again." She rolled over in bed and sighed when he refused to act on his very obvious desire.

"Fine, remain quiet so no one finds out, and I'll make love to you."

"Mark, that defeats the purpose. The first union has to be sanctioned - "

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "We will try, but I promise nothing."

A huge sigh of relief escaped, and she nodded. Things felt different here, like it was worth this to make sure Mark and Charles were accepted as part of the tribe. Of course, Mark would put a halt to all of this if he realized it was for him.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Clearly he held his tongue. "Should we wait a few nights to make sure you're - "

"No."

"I promise I won't hurt you." He sighed, as if disagreeing with her decision. "I'll go tell the Elders."


"It's alright," he whispered under the loud thunder of the drums calling the Spirits, and eased her back onto the bed that evening. He tried to caress, but nerves were wound too tight. "Sweetheart, you must relax so it doesn't hurt." Even the deep rumble of his voice that usually soothed wasn't enough to hold back the demons that began to creep.

"Just do it." A shaky breath released, and her fingers laced tighter with his resting near her head. Biting her lip at the pressure that was uncomfortable but not painful as he began to join, every muscle braced for what was next.

Instead, he withdrew and reached between to touch himself as he kissed her neck, keeping his chest pressed to hers. "It'll hurt too much. I won't take you, but we'll make it look like I did."

Loved welled for the embarrassment he sacrificed so she wouldn't be frightened.

His body held so much tension. "Tanya, I'm so stressed, I need your help."

Pressing kisses to his neck, she let her hands roam his body until he grew restless.

"Tanya," he panted and shifted over her more, "relax. Deep breaths. It's just my finger."

Her cheeks burned when an Elder's wife had to verify consummation, but Mark sat beside the cot and held her hand. His farce passed.

He sat on the other side of the fire with the men while the women touched her belly and danced to call the Spirits to make it a fruitful union. Glancing over at him, a blush crept up when he looked over at the same moment.

You alright? he mouthed, his eyes brimming with worry over the farce consummation yet.

A shy smile bloomed as she gave a small nod. He worried so much, even when he'd given her nothing to be upset about. Love you.

Love you too. His expression remained quiet and stoic, but tenderness reflected in his eyes. Grandfather handed Mark the ceremonial smoking pipe, stealing Mark's attention as he appeared to be asking questions and eyeing it with skepticism. Soon after, everyone headed to bed.

It was good to see Mark get up with the prosthesis tonight instead of still needing crutches. His walk again had that slight swagger, slight aire of a man who was confident and proud of the protection he offered.


A few days later, Mark was already out of bed and bright daylight filtered into the teepee. Charles was gone too. Sitting up, that incessant ache in the small of her back was still there. Lying down again triggered more monthly breast discomfort.

Mark followed Charles, who crawled into the hut. "Mama's awake." His smile disappeared. "Do you feel alright? You've slept ten hours, but you look exhausted." Scooping up the babe, he came to sit on the edge of the cot.

"I'm just tired."

Charles pulled himself up and gave a two-toothed grin good morning.

"Come cuddle." She pulled him up, and he snuggled. And then pulled at her dress for breakfast.

Mark felt her brow and frowned when the simple act of nursing Charles caused a whimper of pain. "No bite Mama," he scolded.

"No, I'm just sore from my time coming due." She stroked Charles's hair as he looked up in contentment. "The women say he'll be walking soon - that he's ahead for his age."

He must've caught the note of relief in her voice. "He's a smart chap. The malnutrition doesn't show any signs of having stunted him other than his size. In another year, he might be caught up in that too." Although he kept a hand on the babe, his eyes studied her in concern. "Let me check you when he's finished. You don't look well."

"You might be just starting to come down with something." He put his medical bag away a few minutes later and studied her in concern again. "Perhaps you should stay in bed today."

"There isn't time to be sick. We haven't even actually consummated either."

His eyebrow cocked. "There'll be plenty of time for that. We need to make sure you're not getting ill right now."


"How is she?" Tiger approached with Lily a couple days later as he rinsed out a bowl from Tanya getting sick.

"Has anyone reported influenza? She's vomiting now too."

Lily's eyes widened in horror. Tiger shook his head, grave concern in his eyes. "Is she still sleeping so much?"

"Like the dead." Running a hand through his hair in distress, he swallowed down the panic. Tiger blurred behind tears that welled. "Would you check her? Perhaps there's something I'm missing."

"Of course. She's not with child, is she?"

"If she is, it's too soon to tell." He ducked inside - best to avoid more questions about that. A farce consummation made pregnancy highly unlikely anyways.

Tiger didn't find anything either. Lily caught his arm without a word and led the way outside while Tiger visited with Tanya.

She turned, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Grief is in your face. Tanya once said your first wife succumbed to cancer. Tanya has it too, doesn't she?"

Swallowing hard, the grief shoved back down. Not voicing it would keep the nightmare from coming true. "Tumors could be felt in my first wife. We can't feel anything in Tanya."

"Not all tumors can be felt, though." She wrung her hands.

Glancing away, that was a fact that was better not acknowledged either.

"Mark, is there any possibility this is extreme morning sickness?"

Grief couldn't be held back, and the tears slipped free, along with the confession.

Tears slipped down Lily's face at the end of the confession. "I'll pray to the Spirits that the impossible has happened and it is a baby, because..." her voice broke, "I refuse to believe she's dying." Then she hurried away.


Holding his hands a few days later, his aid was now needed to even stand, much less walk from being so weak. Six days and no herbs or medicine that he gave would keep any food down. It'd been easy to forget what sharp hunger pains felt like since being under Mark's roof. Now, thinking of nothing but food and pain quickly became an obsession. Mark had finally removed even pans and dishes from sight, and put a halt to trying even water to no more than once an hour.

He helped balance on the scale he'd bought in town, being as careful touching as if he handled a glass doll.

The hungry gurgling of her stomach had become a constant noise, but it seemed to pain Mark to hear it each time. His hand rested gently on her belly that had already begun to sink inward with starvation, and his other hand gingerly wrapped around her waist.

"Mark." Holding tight to his arm didn't even stop the room from spinning.

"I've got you. We just need a few seconds on the scale to tell how much weight you've lost."

It had to be significant because clothes that had clung to curves a week ago now bagged, and hip bones and ribs had begun to protrude.

Panic flashed through his eyes when he looked down.

Ten pounds lost.

"Did you get this ill with Charles?" he asked for the second time today, as he did every day like he hoped for some new answer.

Shaking her head, she kept quiet as he carried her back to bed, mindful of the painful intravenous line in her arm. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your weakness mimics some of the symptoms during the cholera epidemic in the 1830s. Not being able to intake water could be having the same effect as losing water. You're able to take copious amounts of fluid before you need to void and your blood is thick, so I suspect dehydration is what's weakening you so fast."

Then he started his daily ritual of palpating and examining everything possible. He never said a word about it, but it wasn't hard to figure out that he thought cancer was responsible somewhere. Grief filled his eyes more each day. Grandmama mentioned that every afternoon while she slept, Mark went to the sweathouse and prayed to the Spirits and prayed to God - to anyone who might listen to his plea.

Trying to push up, she reached for the bowl. He easily pulled her upright without effort and supported her back as every muscle convulsed in a painful heave, but there was nothing left to come back up. When it passed and she gasped for air, he cradled her in his arms. And his chest silently shuddered.

"Mark, it'll be alright. Could it be some type of parasite?"

"I don't know that you'd be able to tolerate treatment, even if it is, but you have no symptoms of parasites." He sniffled.

The effort from standing drained all energy, except for resting a hand over his.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered in heartbreak. "Your heartbeat is even slowing to try to preserve all energy. If there was a babe, you should've miscarried by now out of self-preservation. You're starving at an incredible rate, like something is sucking everything from you." Her shoulder grew wet, as if he wept.

He was so terrified, and Fate seemed cruel enough to make him relive losing another wife yet the same way. "Mark? You said if you would've operated on Anna sooner - "

He shook his head and pulled back, wiping the tears from his red-rimmed eyes. "Even if it is cancer, we've no idea where it is. We could hack you open and still see nothing. No, I'm not experimenting on you like some sick vivisection - "

She nudged his hand down to her lower belly. "It has to be a babe, or there's some kind of tumor here. It feels so full."

"Because of starvation bloating. I've checked, and it's too early to even tell if there's a pregnancy."

Slipping her hand into his, she held his eyes. After the suffering Anna went through, he was afraid it was too late and to impose any type of suffering. "A few more days. If things aren't better, do surgery. If it's cancer, maybe it can be cut out."


The next day, he knelt beside the cot, his face so tortured. "Tanya, your body isn't tolerating this." He looked ill and held her hand. "We need to place a feeding tube - "

Panic hit. "Surgery?"

"No, no, no. The risk of infection with that is too high. Your grandfather has experience with physicians who thread the tube up the nose and to the small intestine, bypassing the stomach so nausea isn't triggered. We'll give a light sedation being it's not a comfortable procedure." His voice quivered just a hint.

"If there is a babe, this is safe?"

He nodded.

"Why do you look scared?"

Tears shimmered in his eyes. "I hate when you need anything medical done. I just want you healthy."

A gentle squeeze of his hand held back his tears. "I'm not going anywhere."

Kisses came a plenty, and he hovered and held her hand and fretted himself mad as Grandfather got everything ready. As sedation took hold, he whispered, "I love you." Everything faded into oblivion.

Something tickled her nose, and she reached up.

A strong hand caught hers as her eyes fluttered open. "Slow down, she's waking up," Mark's voice ordered. "Sweetheart, we gave just enough sedation to knock you out for a moment. You'll be pain free for a few more minutes while we finish."

His face came into focus.

"I need you to not touch anything so we stay sterile, sweetheart."

"Swallow a few times," Grandfather ordered.

When she did, Grandfather threaded in more of an incredibly long tube. Tingling set in as the chloroform wore off.

Mark listened with a stethoscope to her chest. "Air." Grandfather pushed a syringe in the end of the tube. "Good. It's in her stomach." A little more tube went in, this time causing a wince of pain in the nose.

"There. We should be in the intestine. Would you like the honors?" He handed Mark a large syringe with whitish liquid.

"Alright, love, lets get some food into you." He demonstrated how to inject the food and chased it down with boiled water to clean the tube out. Then he capped the tube and tucked the length of it behind her ear. "Nauseous?" When she shook her head in surprise, he sat back and a real smile erased the days of stress and grief from his face.

Embarrassment hit as it dawned that a hideous brown tube came out her nose. "How long does - " Oh god, her voice sounded odd with the fat tube blocking an entire nostril. Letting some locks of hair fall to block the disgusting thing, she looked away as her face burned hot.

Gentle fingers swept aside her hair. "It's only a tube, and it's keeping you alive." Huskiness deepened his voice. "You're beautiful. You don't give a rat's arse about my leg, and I don't give a rat's arse about the tube. I'm hoping it's only for a week or two." His eyes held so much love.

Strength returned fast with the feeding tube, but Mark often stayed behind from hunting to keep an eye on her. He restricted too much activity, being a worry wart, but the quiet days were spent in wonderful companionship.


"Mark, I'm not at all attractive like this," she panted two weeks later. Nausea had returned without a feeding tube, so Mark and Grandfather had put another in again to try for two more weeks.

"Then you're insane because my body is saying otherwise." He shifted on top in bed, clearly having been neglected for too long. "Nothing could make you not beautiful." His hands roamed in a frenzy, and he kissed his way down her body.

Sensations were heightened, and simple touches brought uncontrollable pleasure.

"My lady love, you sound well pleased." The man sounded entirely too proud of himself. "We haven't even reached dinner yet."

As he laid claim, a cry of pain killed all the pleasure.

He immediately pulled away and looked down. A deep frown furrowed his brow. "Did I hurt you?"

Pressing her legs together she bit her lip and nodded. "You don't fit."

"What do you mean? It's not like I - " He touched her, and his eyebrows rose. "Let me palpate." His other hand reached to press on her belly.

"What?! You're not doing an exam in the middle of sex!" She pushed his hand away.

"No, when are your menses due?" He sat back and resumed the exam.

"They...oh. They should've started a week ago."

He smiled and continued palpating. "You're swollen from extra blood flow, which can make intercourse painful for some women, and your womb is enlarged. Your breasts are still sore?"

Her eyes widened. "Yes, but I thought you said that one time was practically impossible."

His grin grew. "Apparently not. That must be what the extreme nausea is from." Tears of joy brimmed in his eyes. "Tanya, you're very much with child."

"A babe?" The shock of going from possibly dying to having a babe dulled all reaction.

His lower lip quivered as he nodded and gave loving strokes to her flat belly.

"We're having a babe?" Tears rolled down from the corners of her eyes, and she reached up to cup his face as he leaned down for a kiss.

"We're having a babe, my lady love," he whispered in a thick voice and pressed a kiss to her lips.