Chapter ten! Can you believe it? We've made it through ten whole chapters, and there are many more to come. But on this anniversary of sorts, I think that fluffiness is a must, especially in the renewing world of everything Neil and Margaret MacNeill. So here's to them, and to happiness, and to chapter ten!

Read and Review, lovelies! 3

Margaret stood at the kitchen table, rolling pin firmly in her hands. Flour covered the table and the dough in front of her as she rolled it into a nearly perfect circle. The day was warm, allowing her to have the door open and music playing from the victrola on the porch outside. It seemed odd that they had already had a snowstorm that had threatened to take Christy's life, and now she was letting warm air and sunshine in through the open door. Fall weather had returned, making cooking and other preparations for Thanksgiving much easier. Already, she had a few loaves of bread cooling on the porch railing. She put more flour on her hands, preparing to lift the pie crust into the dish, when two arms snaked around her waist. A head of red curly hair pressed against hers, and she breathed in his deep scent of pine and medical supplies.

"You're home early…" She noted, leaning her head back on his chest. He rocked her back and forth very slightly.

"I am," he agreed, not taking the time to explain before his lips were on her neck.

"Mac, I'll never get this pie made and your dinner on the table if you start that now."

"We could just eat the bread outside. It smelled heavenly," he suggested, his hands sliding dangerously over her hips.

"Neil…" She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not, am I?" He spun her around to look at her. "I came home early with a purpose, and as long as you approve, I plan to accomplish my purpose."

Her flour covered hands and apron now had him covered as well. She looked over the mess she had made, and then raised her eyes to his. He was looking at her with such passionate desire it took her breath away.

"Mac, we haven't…are you sure now is a good time?"

"As good as any," Neil said. "I don't see a point in putting it off. It will inevitably happen eventually."

"It will?" She mumbled.

"That's what married people do isn't it?"

"Yes, but, Mac…this is you and me we're talking about. It will make things much more complicated."

"We're already complicated," He reminded her.

"We always have been. Why the change in attitude? You wanted to take this slow…to make sure we both really wanted this."

"You told me you would stay if I wanted you to. I want you to stay."

"I will," She nodded. "I just want you to be sure, because if you change your mind…"

Her voice trailed off and she looked down to hide her face from him.

"I don't think I would be able to handle pain like that, Neil."

"I'm not going to change my mind," He said firmly, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look at him. Tears had filled her eyes and it shocked him to see her in such a vulnerable state. "I'm not going to change my mind. Ever."

"Promise?"

"Yes. So will you stay?"

Slowly, a smile began to creep over her face. "I'll stay."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

"Until death. Through whatever happens?"

"I'll be right here, Mac, until the day I die. I'm not ever going to leave you again."

He kissed her, long and hard, leaving her absolutely breathless.

"That sounded an awful lot like wedding vows. I think we just got married again," Neil stated with a wide grin, when they broke apart.

She nodded. "I liked that one more than the first one."

"I also think I'm going to like what comes next even better than the first time," He announced, swinging her up into his arms in one effortless motion.

She laughed as he carried her toward the stairs. "Oh, Mac! The stew will burn!"

He turned around abruptly. "We can't have that."

He carried her back to the stove, set her down, picked up the dish towel, opened the oven door, and pulled the stew out. He set it firmly on the table, far away from the fire. Then he scooped her back up, and resumed their trip to the bedroom. Margaret couldn't wipe the smile off her face for anything in the world.

Neil leaned his head on his bent arm, gazing down at his lovely wife beside him in the fading afternoon light drifting through the bedroom window. Margaret was twirling one of her long, black curls around her finger, staring at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" Neil asked.

"You," She stated. "Us."

"What about us?"

"How different I hope things will be this time."

He ran a hand down her arm, intertwining his fingers with hers when he got to them. "We're never going back to that place, Margaret. Not ever. I'm…I'm different. I found God. I'm not the man I was. We aren't going back to that place."

"Losing the baby was so hard," She whispered.

"I know."

"We didn't talk about it. We just moved on like it didn't happen. I hated that we acted that way. That was our child, and we both just tried to forget."

"I blamed myself for not saving it."

"And I blamed myself for losing it in the first place."

"Margaret…there was nothing you could have done."

She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. He understood her message.

"There was nothing I could have done either," He admitted for the first time.

She let a tear fall, squeezing his hand. "We need to talk about what is going to happen if it happens again."

"It won't."

"It might."

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

"Do you want another baby, Neil?" She asked, her voice small and afraid.

"Yes. Very much. But I don't want to put pressure on you."

"I already told you I want one."

"I know. I just don't want you to feel like it is your responsibility or duty. I will love you no matter what."

She nodded slowly. "You think I will have a difficult time conceiving."

He studied her closely, gauging her reaction. "Possibly. You've been very ill. And we don't know why the other miscarriage happened. Chances are that something was deformed with the baby and nature took its course. But it could have been something else."

"But we'll keep trying?"

"Yes. For as long as necessary."

"Will you be strong enough, Mac, to handle another miscarriage if one happens? Because I know I won't be. I'm going to need you very desperately. Will you be there?"

"One of my biggest regrets in my life is not being there for you in that time when you needed me most of all. I will not make that mistake again. I will be there. I will be there for any trial you face, at anytime, Margaret. I'm your husband, and I'm ready and willing to fill that role."

She smiled, nudging his shoulder and pushing him back down onto his back. She leaned over him, her curls falling into his face. He reached up and smoothed them back so he could look at her.

"I love you, Neil MacNeill," She said firmly and passionately.

"I love you, Margaret MacNeill." His voice held the triumph and certainty of a winning warrior at the end of a war.

AN: Ahhh! So much lovely fluff. I love Neil MacNeill when he gets all romantic. So sweet. And he loves her! And he said it! Do I hear all of your happy squeals? I bet you can hear mine!

On a side note, I know many of you are getting impatient for Alice and Margaret's conversation. I needed to get Neil and Margaret to this point before that conversation could finally take place. You'll understand why when you read it. Bear with me, it is coming very soon!