Disclaimer: not mine
-final-
"Mac?"
"Mac?"
Harm's voice was soft but insistent and drew her out of her wanderings.
"Mmmm," she mumbled in reply.
"You okay, I thought I lost you for a bit there," he said, kissing her head and she snuggled into him once more.
"Yeah, was just thinking about this past year and everything that's happened," she said, snaking a hand back and around his neck.
"Been a hell of a year, hasn't it?" he said, holding her a little tighter.
"It has," she agreed, closing her eyes once more, wanting to return to their honeymoon.
"Watcha thinking about?" he asked when he realised she was drifting off once more.
"Bermuda," she said in a sleepy and happy manner.
Harm grinned; thoughts of Bermuda made him happy too and even though it was only a week or so ago, he knew there would be certain thoughts about their honeymoon that would make him smile into old age.
Rolling over, Mac pushed herself against her husband before settling down once more; she was tired, she was more than tired. Just one night she would love to sleep through without dreams waking her ... their other nocturnal activities weren't making sleep easy either. Realising his wife wasn't really with him yet, Harm pulled her closer and kissed her head before holding her until she fell asleep once more.
An hour or so later, Harm opened his eyes at the sound of unexpected noise in the cabin. Focusing on the doorway, he was surprised to see his mother standing there.
"What time is it?" he asked, without greeting.
"Nearly noon," Trish whispered. "We did say we'd be here for lunch."
"Yeah, I know," Harm replied. "Sorry, just had a little trouble getting up this morning."
Trish smirked. "Ah, the joys of being newlyweds."
"It wasn't that, mom," he said quickly, "Well, not just that," he whispered. "Bad dreams." He nodded towards Mac and Trish understood.
"Are they getting any better?" she whispered in reply.
"Yeah, mostly," he said, "I think it's just with the anniversary tomorrow things are a bit ..."
"Raw?" Trish offered and Harm nodded. "What about you?"
"Me too," he admitted. "The nights she does manage not to have dreams I seem to wake her up with my disturbances, it's no wonder she's been so tired lately. What I wouldn't give to allow her ten hours of peaceful, uninterrupted slumber."
"Maybe, when this weekend is out of the way, things will get back to normal," Trish offered and Harm just nodded; really, he had no idea of what 'normal' was with them.
It was another two hours before Mac awoke, still wrapped tightly in Harm's arms. Yawning and trying to stretch, she came to the realisation that it was 1356 and she was supposed to be feeding her in-laws about now.
"Lunch!" she muttered, scrambling to sit up but Harm held her tight.
"Lunch is ready, whenever you are," he said kissing her cheek. "Mom and dad are already here, everything's organised and all you have to do is relax."
Mac smiled and slumped against him, she'd love to be able to relax...maybe after this weekend she would be able to sleep and find true rest.
The afternoon and evening were spent with good food, walks and friendly conversations and reminisces. The night was spent with a sociable game of Trivial Pursuit before Mac headed off to bed.
"Is Mac alright, son?" Frank asked as the woman in question disappeared from view. "She's been very quiet today."
"This anniversary has been playing on her mind," Harm replied. "She's been quite unsettled in her sleep and she's not quite herself."
"Is she sick?" Trish asked, propping herself on the arm of Frank's chair.
"The day we got to Bermuda she wasn't well but picked up after that," he explained. He then went on to explain how he thought it was more emotional than physical and how that, when they were home for the few days between their honeymoon and arriving in California, she called Dr McCool to bring forward her next appointment.
"Poor thing," Trish said sympathetically, the more she learnt about her new daughter, the more her heart ached for all that she had been through and continued to experience.
"Yeah," Harm said, his eyes filling with tears. While he knew his wife would never want anyone's sympathy, he couldn't help it.
"Why don't you go to bed too, Harm," Frank suggested. "Mom and I will clean up here and in the morning I'll prepare Mac's favourite breakfast – honeyed Canadian bacon with eggs, sunny side up."
Harm smiled; bacon was his only nemesis in having his wife's undivided love and devotion.
Slipping quietly into bed beside his wife, Harm waited until she realised he was there and settled herself against him, it didn't take long.
"Love you so much," Harm whispered, kissing her head.
"Love you too," Mac replied, holding onto his t-shirt.
The first anniversary of the SoCal fires which had devastated Hemingway Mountain and the surrounding areas dawned clear and bright. The forecast was for a mild day with the possibility of showers later in the afternoon, something far removed from the day of the fires. Mac's day started when she awoke to the aroma of honeyed Canadian bacon sizzling in the kitchen. Noting her husband was still asleep she slid out of bed and into a robe before padding out to the kitchen.
"Hello, dear," Trish said, standing to hug and kiss her. "How'd you sleep?"
"Okay," she said, before moving to greet Frank. "Harm was a little restless so I let him sleep."
"I'm sure you both have a lot on your minds," Trish said, wishing they could both find some peace.
Mac smiled and nodded and Trish smiled sadly; she had some idea of what they had experienced before the fires – the near misses, the accidents, Harm's ejection into the ocean, the plane 'accidents' and all those things she knew she hadn't been told about, and yet it was the fires which had disturbed their sleep the most. This only meant one thing; the fires were the most traumatic. At first she couldn't reason why they would have been worse than when Harm punched out and was missing in the ocean and then she realised it. It was because of their emotional attachment and the fact that they were in love and nearly lost each other.
It was Frank pressing a kiss against her temple that brought her back to the present.
"Dry your eyes, honey," he whispered, dabbing her cheeks with a Kleenex. "The kids don't need to see tears."
"Thanks," she replied, taking the tissue. "Where'd Sarah go?"
"To get Harm for breakfast," he replied, kissing her again. "They're both going to be alright – and so are you," he added, kissing her once more.
"Smells great," Harm said, coming into the kitchen with one arm around his wife. "We're going to find it hard to go back to work and not have people looking after us."
"Say the word and I'll come and look after you," Trish said, only half jokingly.
"Thanks, mom," he said, kissing her cheek.
By eleven they were standing in the clearing off Andrews Road, there was a table set up as an altar and a few odd chairs set out. It was to be an ecumenical service of thanksgiving for the lives of those lost as well as for the survivors and all the rescue personnel and volunteers who had done their utmost during the time of crisis.
Harm stood directly behind his wife and kept his arms wrapped around her for most of the time to comfort himself more than anything. A year ago, as the fireman had driven them down the mountain, he had vowed that, given the chance, he would take hold of Mac and never let her go. Today was a physical manifestation of that vow.
Feeling a little squashed by her husband's strength, Mac moved a couple of times to try and ease the pressure across her chest and stomach. Craning her neck, one look into his eyes told her he really wasn't aware of his intense hold on her. Instead of complaining, she linked her hands with his and rested them on her stomach – hoping they'd both find it comforting and she'd be able to breathe.
Nearby, Frank and Trish were talking to Ray Morrison. It was his parents and children lost in the cabin next to theirs. It was his life which was irreversibly changed by the tragedies of that day. It was the day he became an orphan, the day he became a father without children, the day his marriage effectively ended as his wife blamed him for allowing the boys to go with his parents when the forecast had been for extreme weather.
A pat on the back from Frank, a kiss on the cheek from Trish, did nothing to appease his deep sorrow and they watched as a man so broken it showed in the stoop of his back and the hanging of his head walked away. While Ray took a seat near the altar, Trish and Frank moved back towards Harm and Mac, needing to be near them now more than ever.
About ten steps from them, Frank stopped and pulled Trish to him.
"Can stepfather's-in–law have intuition like mother's can?" he whispered, glancing towards Harm and Mac.
"Yes, I guess so," said Trish, looking in the same direction. "Why?"
"I think Mac's pregnant," he said and they both turned to look properly at the couple in question, Mac still wrapped up in Harm's arms, their joined hands still resting on her abdomen.
"Really?" Trish asked before nodding. "I had that thought yesterday and I sort of hinted around it to Sarah but there was no response. So, if they are, they don't know it."
"Well, it will be a true miracle if she is," Frank said, turning his attention to the Anglican minister who had just stepped up to the microphone to start proceedings.
There were prayers from the clergy, prayers from survivors, prayers from victims' loved ones. There were songs of love, of hope, of praise. There was a memorial unveiled and photos of those lost clutched tightly in trembling hands. There were tears and laughs and a lot of love in the clearing off Andrews Road.
When the final song was played, U2's Beautiful Day, Mac turned around and linked her arms around his neck.
"I love you so much, Harm," she said tearfully, releasing one hand to wipe his tears away. "So, very much. I am thankful for you saving my life here a year ago, for loving me and marrying me."
"I love you so much, gorgeous," he replied before gently kissing her tears away. "But you should know that saving you wasn't purely altruistic - saving you was saving me. I can't live without you ... not a now, not a year ago, not five years ago. You are my everything and I know I haven't told you enough, shown you enough but I promise I'm going to spend the rest of my days ensuring you know just how deeply I love you."
"And I'm going to do the same," she promised through her tears before pressing up and kissing her husband tenderly.
When she pulled back, Mac rested her head on Harm's chest as he wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her head. It was only then that Trish and Frank moved over to them, both embracing them in some sort of group hug. Taking a deep breath, Harm knew they were so blessed. Looking around at the families who had lost loved ones only heightened his awareness of how much of a blessing the fires had been to him. From nearly losing his life he had gained everything that he now knew he couldn't live without – his beautiful wife and his newfound positive relationship with his parents.
Lunch was spent quietly on the front porch looking out on the majesty of the mountain. Frank's original plan had been a barbeque, knowing Mac loved his marinade but given the focus of the day, he just couldn't bring himself to light it – even though it was gas and perfectly safe. Instead, he cooked it in the oven and while it tasted good it wasn't quite the same. Still, no one mentioned it; none of them were prepared to light the barbeque either.
After a lunch where Mac ate the meat and little else, Trish suggested a walk and Harm agreed but when Mac declined Harm went to change his mind.
"You two go," Frank said, "I am hoping to convince Mac to play a game or two of chess."
Harm looked from Frank to Mac and when she smiled and nodded he agreed to take a walk with his mom. Within minutes they were gone from view and Frank turned to Mac.
"Now, sweetheart, I don't expect you to play chess. I will get the set out so it looks like we've played when they return but you just rest. You're looking rather tired. Are you okay?"
"I have a headache," she admitted. "I think it's from all the emotion of the day."
"Can I get you something?" he offered, standing to go and retrieve the chess set.
"Maybe just some water, if that's okay," she said, moving from the chair to the porch swing.
"It's more than okay, Mac," he said, disappearing into the house – water was the least he could do for the woman he really believed was going to give him his first grandchild in the coming year.
Meanwhile, Harm and Trish made their way down the trail which went past the Morrison house, to their surprise they found Ray sitting in the middle of the now vacant block, a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, his service revolver in the other.
Whispering to his mother to return to the cabin and call his captain, Harm walked over to the man and sat beside him. For a long time nothing was said, but eventually Ray offered the bottle to Harm and he declined. Sure, he felt like taking a drink with his nerves on edge but someone needed to remain sober and rational and it had to be him.
"No, thanks, Ray," Harm said, shaking his head.
"You know, doesn't matter how much of this crap I drink, the pain is still there," he said as he tossed the bottle and its useless contents across the block.
"Have you seen someone?" Harm asked, trying to choose his words carefully. "You know, a therapist, counsellor..."
"Yeah, the police department has a shrink and my captain made me go a few times," he replied, his eyes now focused on his gun.
"Helpful?" he asked, not holding much hope.
Ray shrugged. "Do you think anyone would have helped you in same situation?"
It was Harm's turn to shrug. "Nah, probably not."
"You know I coulda coped losing one or two of them – but all four... how's a guy supposed to go on?" he said, shaking his head. "I have these nightmares where I get the chance to save just one of them and I can't... I can't pick which of my kids to save...I know my parents would understand but how do I choose between my boys?" The tears cascaded down his cheeks. "So even in the dreams I let them both go – I love them so much I can't pick one over the other."
Harm wrapped his arm around the disconsolate man beside him as his own eyes stung with unshed tears. He never, ever, wanted to be in that situation...never.
Looking out the window, Frank saw Trish almost running up the driveway alone and was instantly out to greet her, hoping it wasn't bad news. Almost breathless, Trish was still able to relate the goings on next door and Frank was on the phone immediately.
"Where's Sarah?" Trish asked scanning the porch.
"In bed asleep," Frank replied. "She was tired and had a headache."
"Good," she said. "She really doesn't need to know about this."
The good news from Frank's call was that Captain Harris was already on his way. A colleague from the Hemingway Mountain station had called him after he'd spoken to Ray before the service concerned about his mental health, and that he should only be five, ten minutes away. As Trish stayed as the cabin, Frank walked out to the main trail to meet the captain's car. Without a house to look for it was easy to go off in the wrong direction out here.
Knowing he needed to buy some time, Harm asked about the boys and Ray started to sob.
"They were the best kids," he said trying to fight his tears. "Lukey looked like his mother and was into baseball and even took his bat to bed some nights. His mother was always worried he'd do himself an injury but Luke didn't care. Jakey...he looked like me... my mother used to say we were two peas in a pod. He was my..." tears choked him and took his voice. "My little man...my shadow...always said he wanted to be a policeman like his daddy."
Harm wiped away the tears running down his cheeks. He had been devastated when they had had the ectopic pregnancy but to lose two precious little boys, how do you get over that? Not to mention losing your parents at the same time.
"He must have been very proud of his daddy," Harm said, trying to control his emotions.
"He was," Ray said with a nod. "Always wanted to be with me...now, I just want to be with them..." He took the safety off the gun.
"There's no way I can say I know what you're going through," Harm said, resting his hand over Ray's, keeping the gun directed into the ground. "I can't imagine your pain ... your loss...I've been through a lot in my life, seen a whole lot more, and have a deep appreciation for the fragility of life... My wife and I were up here the day of the fires and I did something to piss her off and she went out for a run that morning. I went after her and couldn't find her and it made me physically ill to think I could lose her."
"You found her though," Ray said, thinking of the woman he'd seen with him earlier.
"I did – she was dehydrated and confused and by the time I got her back to the cabin to tend to her wounds it was too late to leave," he said quietly. "We got into the water tank and it saved us."
"Dad was going to put in a tank too," Ray said sadly. "It was to be delivered three days after the fire."
"If I had of known your family was in danger I would have tried to save them," Harm said, looking at the gun shake in Ray's hand.
"Thanks," he replied forlornly. There were so many 'if only's related to the day.
Silence fell once more and Harm's gaze continued to fall between Ray and the gun. A few minutes later he heard a car in the distance and said a silent prayer that this was the backup he needed. There was little he could say to Ray to make him realise life was worth living. While he would never support suicide he could only imagine the sheer pain and desperation of the broken man beside him and how he would never be convinced that there was anything in the world left living for.
Hearing a car's engine turn off and two doors opening, Ray looked up and saw his boss and Frank approaching him. He spoke no words, cried no tears as he watched his captain walk up and take the gun from his still shaking hand.
"It's not the answer, son, it's not the answer," he consoled as he embraced the younger man.
After a short conversation, Harm helped Ray into the car as Frank gave Captain Harris his contact details. As the car disappeared back down the trail, Frank wrapped his arm around his son. There were no words to describe how shattered he would have been had the fire claimed his son and spared the neighbours.
Trish greeted the pair tearfully and when assured both were uninjured from the encounter she finally let them go. Letting Frank tell her the story, Harm went to the one place he needed to be – with his wife.
"She's in bed," Trish said as Harm headed for the door, knowing exactly what he was in search for.
Toeing off his shoes, Harm slid into bed behind his wife and slipped an arm around her, his hand coming to rest on her belly on top of hers. Nuzzling his face into her hair, Harm inhaled deeply as his tears ran unchecked onto the pillow. He was the luckiest man in the world – Ray's story had just proven that. As he took a few deep cleansing breaths, Harm tried to put the past behind him. Tomorrow was the start of a new year for them, the start of a new life as a married couple, the start of everything he thought he had lost a year ago.
"You okay?" Mac mumbled sensing his discomfort.
"Perfect," he replied, kissing her head.
"Need anything?" she questioned, her eyes still closed.
"Got everything I'll ever need right here," he replied closing his eyes.
And he was right. Right there, in the bed was everything he could ever want, ever need. He had his wife, her love, their marriage. And deep under their joined hands, nestled in Mac's womb, was the little seed they had created; a little seed that would rise up from the ashes and bring with it a deep sense of joy and happiness the likes of which had never been experienced before in their lives.
Once again, Mother Nature had proven that she could work miracles in desolate and barren places. That she could create life out of darkness, joy out of despair. Very similar to a very special marine, she was a formidable force who could take all that the world handed her and still radiate beauty and grace. In the years to come, Mother Nature would write its own story. It would tell of the recovery and rejuvenation of the devastated area. It would tell of rebirth and renewal and regeneration.
From the ashes, Harm and Mac would write their own story. It would be one of love and devotion, of commitment and family, of honour and respect, and, through the grace of God, it would be accompanied by the pitter patter of tiny footsteps.
******The End****
AN: Thanks for all your support and encouragement throughout this story, it has meant so much. It was written in dedication to all those lost in the Black Saturday fires here in 2009 (See Inferno for details) and to those who survived. This Christmas is the second one with empty chairs and empty hearts. There were far more many victims than those revealed in the tolls of those killed and injured. The families who have not been able to sustain such pain and heartache and have broken up add to the toll of that fateful day.
For Nathan, lost in the fires at Calignee, the loss is still with us all.
To all those who celebrate Christmas, May you all know the peace and blessings of the season.
To all those who don't celebrate, best wishes for the coming year.
Stay tuned for the next instalment of Life on the Farm - coming soon.