It was a cold and dark day. Wet. Dreary. Certainly, not a day one would wish to be married on. But for them, there wasn't a more perfect day. And they were being married in the church, after all; it wasn't like they had to worry about being rained on, or their entire wedding being ruined, altogether. Nothing could ruin this day for them. Not the weather, not a kink in plans, nothing.

"Do you, Justin Daniels, take this woman, Mary Smith, to be your wife? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, and to honor and respect her, until death do you part?" The priest, who was their good friend, Jacoby, asked with a smile.

Justin beamed, tears in his eyes, as he stared down at Mary, right into her eyes. He didn't even have to think about it. He gulped down the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Then turning to Mary, Jacoby directed the words to her. "Do you, Mary Smith, take this man, Justin Daniels, to be your husband? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, and to honor and respect him, until death do you part?"

She couldn't help it; her tears fell freely down her unblemished face, as she nodded without a second thought. "I do." She said with a strangled voice. Justin smiled at her confirmation, as if previously afraid that she would change her mind.

"Then, without further wait, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." Jocoby announced with his thick accent weighing heavily throughout the small room.

Not waiting a second longer, Justin slid his hands over Mary's slender hips and pulled her near to him. Smiles lit their faces as they kissed passionately, but still innocently enough while in front of a crowd. Cheers rang through the whole room, as they sealed their marriage officially, finalizing their union as one.

After the marriage ceremony, the crowd hauled over to the bar just across town. For hours, they drank, sang, and danced the day away. When it came time for supper, they all gathered around, the finest mugs, filled to the brim with the best whisky, in their hands. It was time for the bride and groom toasts. Justin's best man, Mark Avery, went first.

"I have known Justin and Mary for most of my life. Separately, of course. But I know that there isn't a couple better suited for each other, than the one right here. Justin, you're my best friend, though I know that, to you, I come in second place of Mary. My friend, you chose well. If only there were more women like Mary out there. And let me say, you deserve the finest. After Catharine broke your heart, I thought you'd never move on. I'm glad you proved me wrong. To Justin and Mary Daniels! May you two live long, and happy together!" He cheered before raising his mug to his lips and taking a long swing, just as everyone else did.

Mary's maid of honor, Leah Cassidy, went next. "Mary, I have seen you struggle through everything in your life, since the day your mother passed. All the things you went through with your father, they were tough. But, they also made you strong. And I couldn't be happier to see you as the strong woman you are now. I know that you will work hard in your marriage. Justin loves you, I think everyone here can see that. What can I say? He has a great taste. To Justin and Mary Daniels! May you know bright and happy days, and always know how lucky you are!" Once again, everyone took a swig of their whisky.

After the bride and groom were toasted, the people went back to dancing, and before to long it was time for the first dance of the newly wedded. Against the wishes of his parents, Justin and Mary had decided they wanted a lively reception; so their first song was The Old Zip Coon. It was a spry dance, one that kept people moving constantly.

Hoots of fun-filled laughter filled the air, as the couple swung around with the biggest smiles. Soon, the whole community joined in, and the room was full of women and men bounding around the spacious bar. Without a doubt, it would be a time for the small town of Berk to always remember. But, for Justin and Mary, the most memorable part came that night.

That was seven years ago, though. All but a faded memory, left in the past.

Present day

She was bleak, weary, and couldn't find it in her heart to smile. She longed for it, yearned for it. all she wanted was to look out at them, running around in the sunlit yard. They were so graceful and beautiful, her two oldest daughters. They had finally cheered up, she just wished she could join in their happiness.

Mary looked behind her, where her youngest was sitting up on the floor with a big smile. So much like her father, she thought. Sallie was, indeed, the spitting image of her war-bound father, all but those green s. She had his face, his nose, his hair and freckles, everything. The Violet eyes had passed over her though, instead being given to little Ethel.

Turning completely to keep a full eye on her daughter, and make sure she didn't wander off, she leaned against her chair and sighed. Resting a hand on the swell of her belly, she rubbed it gently, lovingly. For the hundredth time since Justin left for war, she felt her heart break again. She didn't understand how it was possible to experience heartbreak so many times, in such a short amount of time; all she knew was that she hated it.

Not even a month after Justin left, she discovered that she was once again with child. She was pregnant, with a baby Justin didn't even know about; a baby she wouldn't get to tell him about until he returned. Now, not only would Sallie be estranged from her father, but another baby of theirs wouldn't know him. He would be a total stranger, in the eyes of his own two children.

She was currently seven months along, and her belly was already round and swollen. Women of the town had talked, first thinking she'd had an affair. But when she vehemently told them that that was certainly not the case, that she would never do that to Justin and their girls, the women began to take pity on her. She hated it, but had to admit that their bugging petty was a step up from their thinking she was having an affair.

A hiss brushed past her lips, as she felt a sharp jab to the side of her stomach. "Easy, little one." She whispered, directing it toward the baby inside her. Lately, she hadn't been feeling right. She was throwing up more, and the baby had been much more active than he/she had in the beginning stages of movement. Almost constantly, she felt the baby turning completely around, which just wasn't normal. It worried her, yet she decided not to go to the town doctor.

Just then, a whinny could be heard from down the trail. Mary frowned, as no one ever came this far out of town. Maybe it was a passerby? Someone looking for direction? She didn't know; but taking extra precaution, she grabbed the rifle that had always been kept by the door, and readied it, in case it was a robber, or someone who would harm her or her girls.

Waiting by the porch, rifle readied, she watched as the mounted horse glided toward them. "Girls, come up here, please!" She called to her daughters, and they obeyed without argument. Watching the horse and rider come closer, she could finally see what the person was wearing: blue army jacket, with a blue cap. Gold lined the jacket and cap, and the clothes could be seen as clean. The horse was also well groomed, and it's saddle appeared to be fancy.

She didn't dare to hope, but the closer the rider neared, the more she felt her heart begin to lift. "Justin?" She choked. Closer and closer. Faster and faster, her heart beat. But it suddenly dropped, when the man came to a stop and unmounted. It fell, hitting the dirt ground hard and painfully.

It wasn't Justin.

The man walked up briskly, taking off his cap as he came up the steps. His gaze drifted down to the two girls behind her, clinging to her dress. A tone of sympathy edged his eyes as he slowly lifted them back up to meet Mary's. "Ma'am, I'm sergeant Michael, are you Mary Daniels?" He asked softly.

She forced the lump down her throat and nodded. "That I am. Is-is my husband alright?"

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and closed his eyes briefly. "Mrs. Daniels, I'm…I'm sorry to inform you that yesterday, July 2, 1863, at 5 in the afternoon, your husband was killed on the field of battle at Gettysburg. I'm so sorry for your loss." One last look at her and her daughters, then he turned and left.

Shock filled her at first. Against her will, a sob ripped through her lips, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry. Slowly dropping her eyes downward, she looked to her daughters. They looked scared, confused, and worried.

"Daddy coming home?" Ethel asked her softly.

The tears raged down her face and she shut her eyes tight for a moment. As best as she could, she knelt down and pulled the girls close to her. "No, Ethel." She whispered. "Daddy's not coming home. He's…he's with the angels, baby." She choked, the lump in her throat growing by the second. Her daughters were too young for this. The pain of losing a parent was difficult no matter what, but none of her children were even through their first decade of life. Her oldest was barely seven.

The small girl had tears in her eyes, and her lip quivered. "Daddy left us forever?" She whimpered.

Mary hated to think of it that way, but what other way was there to explain to her daughters? Unable to say anything, she nodded and pulled her daughters into the safety of her arms. "He loved you girls. So very much. You and your sister were everything to him. And if he were here, right now, he would tell you how much he loves you."

Her heart ached so much though. Sallie wasn't even a year old, and the father she would never remember was gone. The baby growing inside her would never even meet his/her father. He hadn't even known about her pregnancy. Now he would never know. He would never know his youngest daughter. He would never know his unborn child. He would never walk his daughters down the aisle on their wedding days. He'd miss out on his grandchildren being born and growing up. All of that, he would never have a chance to do or see.

…

For several days, the Daniels girls were all in a state of melancholy. Townspeople had stopped by a few times, both to give their condolences, and to offer Mary anything she needed: help with the girls, food for the next few days, someone to talk to, anything. The young widow refused though. She didn't wish for charity, and she thought it best that she be the one to care for the girls, especially through such a time as the news of their father's death.

Ida and Ethel, while still not fully comprehending that their father was gone forever, seemed to understand that something really bad had happened to him. Mary hated seeing it on her daughters; she'd gone through the same thing when she was not much older than Ida. She knew it wasn't fair, on anybody.

It was barely a week after receiving the news, when Mary felt a hard kick to her lower abdomen. At first, she didn't take it to mean anything, just the baby putting up a fuss; but when the kicks increased in severity, she became slightly worried.

Just as she was getting up to make something for the girls to eat, she felt something wet between her legs. Shutting her eyes, not wanting to admit to herself what she already knew was happening, she looked to the ground under her feet. There it was; that small puddle that could only mean one thing: she was in labor.

It's to early, she said in her mind. The same thing had happened with her baby boy a few years ago. She'd gone into early labor, and he only lasted a few minutes after birth. The first thing since her father's death, and it broke her. Losing her child, the child she had carried for six months, the child she felt moving inside her, was the hardest thing. She couldn't go through it again, especially after the heartbreak of losing her beloved husband.

Braving through her fear for the moment, she looked to Ida, holding her stomach tightly. "Idie, I need to to ride Bobbie into town and tell auntie Leah that your baby brother or sister is coming." She said in a steady, but still fearful voice.

The seven year old wasted no time in jumping up from the floor, racing to pull on her coat, and running out the door. She was thankful to know that her father's horse was already saddled up and ready to go. Climbing up, she gripped the reins in shaking hands and gave them a snap.

Only half an hour later, she returned with Leah riding behind her. They slid off their horses, and Leah immediately made a beeline for the house. "Mary!" She called in a panic.

"Back here, Lee!" Mary called back to her best friend. When Leah stood beside her, she took a deep breath and leaned back slightly. "I'm sorry. I know you have to take care of the boys-"

"Mary, Ivan and Timothy are fine. Mark is watching them. What matters is that you're in labor. Now, listen, since you've gone into early labor, you know what we have to do." Leah stroked her friend's hair sympathetically and dabbed her already sweaty forehead. "Let's get you in bed, and I'll do what I can to bring your little one into the world." She guided her over to the bed and helped her lay down.

Hours passed by, and the only thing that seemed to change was the pitch in Mary's screams. They varied from loud, to quiet, to high pitched, and real low. The three girls, Ida, Ethel, and Sallie, all sat in the corner. They worried for their dear mother, as they didn't understand what was going on, but they stayed silent and kept patient.

It was well into the night, and there was still nothing to be gained from the long hours of labor that Mary had endured. She'd been in labor for twelve hours already, and while Leah wasn't expecting her to have delivered by then, she was at least expecting her to be dilating; Mary wasn't even so much as dilating. There was no doubt in the fellow mother's mind, this was going to be a long birthing process.

And so it was. Two days of labor, and still nothing to show for it. Mark eventually had to bring his and Leah's two sons out so that she could help them bathe, as he had no idea how to do it. Throughout the whole two days though, Mary still showed no signs of actually giving birth.

And then the third day came.

It hit them all, like a tornado. It came with piercing screams, and obvious signs that Mary had finally started crowning. For when Leah looked under the blanket that was sprawled over Mary, she could clearly see a head full of black hair. And at that sight, she gave a joyous cry and told Mary that it was time. She shoved everyone else out in the meantime, asking Fabian to watch the children.

That night was long and hard. And in the end, silence filled the small Daniels' residence. It was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. But suddenly, tiny wails came from the room Mary was in. Newborn wails. Leah came in to the family room with a bright smile upon her face. "The baby is good and healthy, though a bit small." Taking Sallie from her husband, she looked to Ida and Ethel. "Your mother is waiting for you. Go on, I'll be there in a minute." She told them softly. She watched them leave before turning back to Mark, who looked worried.

"So?" He said nervously.

Her smile, still, didn't fade. "Healthy baby girl." Her gaze fell then, though, and she looked morose. "Mary…didn't want to hold her at first. She-she looks like…like him." She whispered.

Mark sighed and shook his head. "Those poor girls. And poor Mary, having to deal with four daughters, all on her own. This shouldn't be happening." He hesitated briefly before stating, "What is she going to do?" A careful edge to his voice.

She chewed on her lip. "I think she's going to go to work. How else is she going to care for the girls? Still, you're right; this shouldn't be happening."

"What's her name?"

Leah smiled again, having known the name Mary had picked. There was no doubt in her mind, it was a lovely name. "Margaret. Margaret Hope Daniels. Justin loved the name, and Mary thought that it was perfectly suited.

Mark knew, all to well, how his friend had loved the name. They had discussed the topic a few months before he left; he said that if he ever had another daughter, he wanted her name to be Margaret Hope Daniels.

He wrapped and arm around his wife as they started for Mary's room, Sallie in Leah's free arm. When they arrived at the entrance, Mark couldn't help but smile at the sweet scene. The girls were on either side of Mary, on the bed, and were completely mesmerized by their new baby sister. Even from such a distance, Mark could definitely see how baby Margaret resembled her late father. Her tiny face was a mold of his, and the small tufts of black hair were as dark and soft-looking as her father's. He could only imagine how much more she would grow to look like her father; it was a painful thought.

Mary's head snapped up to her friends, and she smiled wide. "Come and meet the new Daniels." She beckoned to them gently, yet eagerly.

They came in and stood beside her, admiring the beautiful baby that was nestled within her arms. They smiled at each other, and then back at her. "She's beautiful, Mary." Mark said softly.

The exhausted mother managed a laugh as she nodded. "She gets it from her father." Looking back down at her newborn, she brought the girl up slightly and kissed her small, pink forehead. "I love you, my sweet girl. Daddy would have loved you too. But remember, little one, he's always with you." Looking around at all of them, tears embraced her eyes and caressed her cheeks. She tried licking them away, but to no use. "He's with all of us." She whimpered.

The Avery's embraced her and the girls, and the Avery boys were quick to join in, always loving hugs. They knew this was not a typical hug, but they could feel the love than ran through, just as much as the heartache. The one thing they could all feel though, was how it uplifted them. They were stronger together. The past months had been hard, but they were sure now that they could get through this hard time. Mary and her daughters would make it. They would all make it; together.