The days began to pass into each other. One day, Archie realized that it had been a week since Ruby's husband had passed away. Funny how it felt like even less time had passed, and yet, it felt like another lifetime ago. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like for her.

Archie wasn't sure if he should say anything or not, and so he decided to just watch her for a clue to see if any condolences would be welcomed. She seemed cheerful enough when he entered the cabin that morning, but he could see the droop in her shoulders as she poured his coffee.

"Thank you," he said as his eyes met hers, and he hoped she could read his sympathy. She gave a polite smile and nod in return, but he noticed the smile didn't reach her green eyes. Later, as she was washing up by the window, he noticed how she stopped mid-action and stared out the window for a moment. He went over to her and, with a slight pause, put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. Quickly, he removed his hand, and she looked at him over her shoulder. He was relieved to see her smile sincerely at him, her eyes glistening with tears. Then she looked away.

A couple of days later, Archie realized that it marked the week since they'd been married—since she'd come to live with them. Under normal circumstances, he supposed most people celebrated that sort of thing, or at least acknowledged it. Theirs was not a usual marriage, however, and Archie knew better than to bring it up, though he suspected she must have thought about it once or twice.

Did she?

At any rate, she seemed to slow her pace to a more sustainable workload with each passing day. Slowly, she and August began to spend more time together as well, and Archie hoped that they were getting to know each other better—and, by extension, getting along better. He quickly learned that the woman had a stubborn streak to match that of his boy, and it was a great relief to know that Ruby could hold her own against August. Maybe there was some great act of Providence in bringing her to them than even he realized.

Ruby wasn't sure of the day at first. All her days seemed to blur together, and she was amazed at how quickly she became accustomed to sharing meals with Mr. Hopper and August. The day that could not be forgotten, however, was the one that marked a week since Peter's accident. How was it possible that only a week had passed? She could have sworn she'd lived in this cabin for years, but she also had to remind herself each morning that Peter was not coming back from fetching the horses or some other silly errand.

He was gone.

Still, the deep ache grew a little less each day, though it never went away. At least she had a warm bed, and a roof over her head, and hot meals. She worked hard for them, to be sure, but the work in itself was a blessing, to keep her mind busy along with her hands. As much as she tried not to dwell on Peter, she also appreciated the small smiles that Mr. Hopper would give her. She was glad he didn't say anything, but somehow she knew that her struggle was not forgotten. Somehow, that helped.

Before she knew it, Archibald was reminding her at supper that the next day was Saturday, and did she need anything from town? Ruby inwardly chastised herself for not being more prepared, and promised she'd have a list for him ready in the morning before he left.

Then, a thought dawned on her. "Are you able to post letters from Storybrooke?" She already knew the answer, since she had sent one off when she and Peter had arrived in town. Her heart ached anew with the realization that so much had changed in a few short days, remembering how her heart was near bursting when she had sent off the news to her grandmother that their long journey had finally ended.

"Yes," he affirmed, his voice softer, and Ruby dropped her gaze from his, reading in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was asking.

She was relieved when Archibald and August retired to the lean-to shortly after supper, leaving Ruby to her letter-writing in the glow of the fire and a candle on the table beside her. It felt like another lifetime ago when she had scribbled out her hopes and dreams—finally becoming a reality!—and sent them off at the counter from where she imagined Peter would soon be buying supplies for their new homestead.

Now, she chose her words carefully, fighting back tears as she tried to keep her words legible from an entirely different kind of emotion. She didn't know how to describe all that had happened without making her grandmother worry, but she did her best to assure her that she would be taken care of during the winter.

And with all this, Granny, comes one last bit of news. I had hoped to tell you under happier circumstances, but I shall have to settle for cold words. I am expecting a child in March

—Ruby paused and bit her lip as she realized her grandmother was the first soul to which she had revealed her secret—

and so you can rest assured that I will do everything in my power to come home safely to you as soon as I am able.

With all my love,

Your Ruby

Ruby quickly folded the letter and addressed it, leaving it on the table for Mr. Hopper to collect in the morning. Her heart ached with the knowledge that her joyous letter would be quickly followed by such tragedy, and Ruby allowed herself a brief moment to curse the distance that separated her from her granny, to imagine her grandmother's arms around her while she rocked her and stroked her hair….

When daylight came, Ruby was glad for the solitude with Archibald and August gone for the day in town. She was even more pleasantly surprised when he announced on Sunday morning that they would be gone for most of that day, as well.

"It being the Lord's day, I usually go off and spend some time in prayer and reflection," he explained in between sips of coffee. Ruby tried to hide her surprise, but she found it strange that he was so committed to religion so far from any church. She and Granny attended church services in Boston, but she didn't think much of it beyond sitting through the preacher's long message once a week.

Ruby packed up lunches for them both and made sure that August was bundled up against the chill of the early October morning. Archie tipped his hat to her with a smile as they headed off towards the creek, and Ruby let out a sigh of relief as she closed the door to the cabin, the prospect of another day to herself making her feel lighter.

Then, she realized she must have missed the Sunday before, and did she work through the holy day? Would Archibald chastise her for not keeping it? She scrambled to think of what she should or shouldn't do, finally deciding that mending couldn't be considered work. She would go crazy if she was expected to do nothing, all by herself, especially with so many jobs needing to be done.

Oh, well, no harm done if Mr. Hopper was kept in ignorance, and besides, he should have said something if it was of true importance.

Ruby spent the Sunday with tasks she deemed "light" enough, and it was just enough to keep her from picturing Granny receiving her letters, and wondering what was happening back in Boston. To her surprise, she was happy to see the day over, knowing that she could return to routine come Monday morning. She knew she'd be too busy keeping up with August to have time for self-pity.

So far, her chores had kept her close to the house, but she was determined to hold up her end of the bargain. And so, one morning she followed August into the chicken coop. She tried to keep the grimace off of her face as the sour smell hit the back of her throat.

August was spreading feed along the floor from a pail. "Why are you here?" he asked without looking at her.

"I—I thought you could use some help," Ruby replied calmly, already sensing his irritation. "What would you like me to do?"

"You might need a place to stay, but I don't need a mother. Pa and me, we're doing just fine."

Ruby started at his unexpected, brutal honesty. She knew there was no way to reply without inviting more conflict, and so she focused on the task at hand. "I'm a little unsure of what to do," she said, praying that honesty—and an appeal to his higher knowledge—would smooth things over. She peeked into one of the little shelves as if to prove her point. "Why don't you show me how to get those eggs out from underneath their—you know…"

"Their rears?" August asked incredulously.

Goodness, she hoped this would work. She couldn't stand being thought a fool by a nine-year-old.

The boy stuck his hand underneath the chicken, his eyes fixed on Ruby, and pulled out an egg. He held it out to her with a sigh like it was the easiest task in the world.

Ruby wasn't convinced, but she slowly put her hand underneath the feathered creature—trying to ignore the fact that she'd just killed one of their bedmates—and clasped her fingers around a smooth, round surface.

"Aha!" she exclaimed as she yanked it out, earning her a squawk from the chicken. August simply rolled his eyes and walked off with the basket of eggs, leaving Ruby alone in the coop holding her prize.

"Well, thank you for your contribution to our kitchen," Ruby said with a mock bow before she left the coop to put her egg with the others.

She couldn't help but narrow her eyes at August as she saw the boy come out of the cabin and walk towards the barn. She would win him over, whether he liked it or not.

Still, it was harder than even she imagined it would be, to try to convince him to let her help him with chores—never mind the task of getting him to do simple school lessons.

One day, Ruby was squatting on a stool underneath Flora, the milking cow, while August sat perched on top of the stall with his slate and chalk. She'd heard that cows were gentle creatures, but being so close to one's hooves had Ruby thinking otherwise. She was determined to master one of the simple chores, however, and so she took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves.

"Spell 'cow'" she said as she tried to figure out the best way to squeeze the milk out into the pail.

"K…A…" August started, before trailing off.

"Close. It's 'C-O-W'," Ruby finished. She tried to keep her frustration out of her voice, but it was hard to ignore the fact that she was at the mercy of an animal that weighed hundreds of pounds and she was about to touch its most sensitive area.

"Flora don't care if I know how to spell," August huffed.

"Flora doesn't care," Ruby corrected, her eyes fixed on the soft pink udders in front of her, "but I do. And so does your father, so let's trying another one. Spell 'fun'."

"F…U…"

Ruby finally gathered the courage to press her fingers to the cow's tits—but she wasn't prepared for the loud "moo" that Flora let out with a stomp of her foot, and Ruby jumped back, landing in the soft hay.

"How do you spell 'warm'?" August asked as he looked down at Ruby.

Ruby stood up and brushed the hay off her skirts, glaring at the cow before she settled back on the stool. "Warm? W-A-R-M."

"I think you'd better W-A-R-M your hands."

"What?" Ruby turned to look up at the boy.

"Well, how do you expect her to give you good milk when you're freezing her like that?" August leaped down from his seat and came over to Flora as he waved Ruby away. She jumped up to see him sit down on the stool and wrap his hands around the udder and pull gently in one fluid motion. Sure enough, the hiss of the milk hitting the pail underneath came in even bursts as Ruby gawked from overhead.

"How'd you get to be so old and not know how to do nothing?" August said as he looked up to Ruby.

Ruby gasped and glared at the boy as he turned his head back to the pail. After she took a deep breath, she pivoted on her heel, leaving the boy to his milking while she headed towards the house before she said something she'd regret.

Tensions only grew more heated before they really boiled over later that day. Ruby had given up on trying to work with August, and so she made herself busy by watering the troughs for the pig. August was inside the pen, cleaning it out with a wheelbarrow and a shovel. Ruby couldn't help but be relieved that she didn't have that job, and she smiled to herself despite her weary limbs as she turned back towards the pump.

Then, something whacked her square in the back. She twirled around to see pig dung on the ground, and the smell hit the back of her throat as tears stung her eyes.

"That's it!" Ruby cried as she rushed towards the gate, and all she could see was red as August glued his eyes to the ground as he exaggerated his motions with the shovel.

Ruby got to the gate, ready to jerk it open, but it wouldn't move. She shook the thing violently, but it wouldn't budge, and she blinked back hot tears as she focused on the redheaded brat inside.

"I swear I didn't mean to," he said with very little effort to hide his smirk that told her all she needed to know.

"I know exactly what you meant to do, mister, and now you listen to me!" She jabbed finger at the boy as her anger and frustration and hurt erupted all at once.

August narrowed his eyes, the grin gone from his features as he took even strides toward her and crossed his arms. He didn't seem to care that she was taller than him as he met her glare with one of his own. "I don't have to listen to you!"

"As long as I am here—"

"I don't want you here!"

"Well I've got news for you!" Ruby raised her voice each time August talked back, and by this time, she was shouting at the top of her lungs. "I don't want to be here!" She took a deep breath before her words tumbled out, harsh and pointed. "But the fact of the matter is I made a bargain with your father, and I intend to keep my end of that bargain, even if you do everything short of trying to kill me in the process. So the way I see it, if I can survive travelling for months in a covered wagon, losing my husband, marrying a complete stranger, I can survive you."

They both stood for a moment, breathless, almost nose to nose as they glared at each other, daring the other to break eye contact.

Finally, Ruby pivoted on her heel and walked with steady strides to the house, stooping to pick up the bucket on her way. Her breath hitched in her throat when she thought she saw Mr. Hopper walking towards her from the field, and she hoped he hadn't seen that little act. She kept on going as she stopped only to yank open the main door. She dropped the bucket on the floor somewhere in the main room before she swept in the bedroom and slammed the door.

Tears ran down her cheeks as Ruby leaned her back against the door. She slid down and covered her face in her hands. What was wrong with that kid? And what was wrong with her? She was so embarrassed to lose her temper to a child like that, and she tried to wipe away her tears and snot and only ended up making a bigger mess of herself.

Were all kids like that? Ruby settled one hand on her stomach as the back of her other hand rested under her nose. No, Peter's child would never be like that. She'd never raise her voice in such anger to her little one.

The realization washed over Ruby that she had to tell Mr. Hopper that she was expecting. But how? There never seemed to be a good time, and she'd been so focused on finding her way around this place and taking care of two strangers…

Ruby's sniffles started to stop and her breathing started to come evenly until her heart stopped with one thought.

She was Mrs. Ruby Hopper now.

Her baby would have that strange man's name and there was nothing she could do about it. By law, she and her child were attached to that man.

What if he went back on his word? What if she couldn't take her baby home with her?

"Oh, I hate him!" Ruby cried before she dissolved into a heap on the floor, sobbing into her arms as she hugged her knees close. She hated him for tying her to him, for making her live under his roof, for sticking her with his unruly child, for taking away her own identity… .

For being everything that Peter was not.

After a few moments of heavy tears, Ruby took a deep breath to control herself. She wiped her eyes as she hiccupped a couple of times. "He will have his father's name," Ruby said aloud, as if to make it final. "Peter Henry Smith." Even if he did have to add "Hopper" at the end.

A quiet knock sounded at the door, and Ruby jumped up. She wiped under her eyes and pinched her cheeks before she slowly opened the door.

She was expecting to see the older man standing before her—not the small boy with his hands clasped behind his back.

"I'messry," he mumbled.

A cough sounded from the stove, and Ruby looked over to see August's father watching the scene play out. Ruby didn't know if that made her feel better or worse.

"I'm sorry," the boy said again, more loudly and clearly.

"And what are you sorry for?" Mr. Hopper prodded.

"I'm sorry for throwing things at you. It will never happen again." Only when the words were out of his mouth did he look up and meet Ruby's gaze.

He seemed sincere enough, despite the obvious encouragement from his father. Ruby didn't know what to say—she didn't trust herself to speak just yet—and so she simply nodded.

"Alright, August, now go and finish your chores," Archibald said sternly with a nod to the door. August scurried away, clearly relieved to give Ruby some space—though not as relieved as she was to be free of him for a few minutes.

Ruby slowly made her way to the kitchen table to join Archibald as he turned to the stove to make the coffee. She stood by the table, unsure if she should sit or start to make supper.

"I'm so sorry about him, Ruby—Ma'am," Mr. Hopper said as he turned to face her. "He's not usually so…"

"Rambunctious?" Ruby tried.

"…rude," he finished with an apologetic smile.

Ruby couldn't help but smile softly in return. Truth be told, August was far from her thoughts. At the present moment, she was searching for the words to tell Mr. Hopper that there would be another rambunctious one on the way.

He seemed to notice she had something to say as he kept his eyes fixed on her.

She couldn't do it.

She glanced down, and he said he'd fix dinner that night. Ruby felt a pang of guilt in her stomach, knowing that she'd thought such awful things about this man only moments ago, but her shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly as she sat down.

She couldn't do that, either, and soon, she was up helping Archibald fix a supper of eggs and biscuits as she tried to forget the rest of the day.