XXX

"What took you so long?" Vic was sweating and gritting her teeth. He could help that. He grasped her hand, which had a firmer grip than most men's. At the moment, it was painful, reflecting just how her day was going.

The white-coated woman sitting between her tented spread knees looked up. "Doctor Sahil. You're Sheriff Longmire?"

"Yes, ma'am. They asked me back in professional capacity?" He gave Vic a quick admonishing look. She looked away and began panting instead.

"Maybe you can get her to relax and focus. It won't be long, now."

He might, he had no idea what to do. Instead, he tried a joke.

"You can't put staff here in a wrist lock, sweetheart. It might be considered an act of aggression."

She groaned a little. He rubbed her belly, and felt it beginning to ripple.

"That feels good, mmm. They had poked me three times, Walt, I ask you, but—Now? Now you call me sweetheart?"

"I can't think of a better time. Breathe now. Breathe, I can feel it."

Her eyes lost focus a moment, before locking with his. Trust shone in them. Trust, in spite of their differences. Trust in spite of his Pappy-riddled memories.

With trust, he hoped she would let him help in any way he could. She abandoned his hand, and gripped at his forearm. He was sure he would have bruises the next day, but would wear them proudly if it made this bearable for her.

He tried another joke. "Last time, they called me in after the fact." He could feel the contraction overwhelming her. It was a big one. The sounds she made—grunting, groaning. He'd seen calves and foals born. This seemed far more painful than they had to endure.

The doctor sitting between her tented thighs radiated excitement. "One more like that! We're nearly there!"

"You mean, last time, in the dark ages?" She was trying to joke back, but still panting. His one hand still on her belly, could feel the ripples already forming another contraction. So close together. She had no time to relax between—

"Bear down now! Bear down!" Doctor Sahil, firm and in position, was now in charge.

"This is all your faultttttt…." She ground out, before emitting a strangled groan.

"Crowning!" The doctor was exultant. "Just a few more."

"Easy for him to say," she whispered, gritting her teeth.

"I'm here, Vic. Not going anywhere. Let's see our Henry."

"Bear down! Bear down!"

###

She opened her eyes to see Walt sitting with Henry swaddled in his arms as though he couldn't believe it. For the first time, it looked to her that he had made peace with his life.

"Hmmm?" She tried for a question.

"Hey," he said, freeing one hand and taking hers.

"You and Henry getting acquainted?"

"And thinking. He's a little thinker."

She made a disbelieving noise. "He can't be mine, then."

"The nurse told me to call her when you were awake. She'll help you get comfortable, and then help you with him for the first time. He's been pretty content, though. Exhausting stuff, being born. For his dad, too."

He reached over, pressed the nurse call button.

"Hmmm." She agreed, shifted a little, winced. He gripped her hand in sympathy, more.

"Vic."

She stopped moving, threw him a glance, to see there were tears in his eyes. Tears. She had never seen him cry, over Cady when she'd been hurt, over Branch, over Donna. She had always imagined he had shed all his tears for Martha, but he was crying now.

"Walt?" She tried to clear her throat.

"I figured it out, Vic. The dreams wouldn't let me forget you until we could catch up to each other."

She tried to soften it, but he deserved the truth. "Walt, it was sex. Great sex, but a one-nighter you couldn't even remember." It came out harsher than she intended.

He took what sounded like a bracing breath. "That night, that might have been, but my dreams wouldn't let me forget how special it was, they made me rememorize it, whenever the experience started to recede. It may have started with sex, but…" he drew her hand to touch Henry's peaceful face, "with Henry's help, it transformed to love."

The rosebud mouth made sucking noises against where Walt's finger lay against the tiny mouth.

He did not let go of her hand.

She could feel the tears slipping down her own face. Shit. Then he said it.

"I love you and Henry, Vic. I want to rememorize you both every day and night from now on."

She couldn't answer him. The past was there, between them, but then, so was Henry.

It was like a proposal to them both.

The nurse came in, all business.

"You two all right?" she asked briskly, seeming to like all the monitors attached to her, but not the blotchy face. "Joy, or unhappy?"

"Just happy," said Walt gruffly, as baby Henry let out a dissatisfied grunt. It could be I'm wet, I'm hungry, or stop crying, but it was a demand that the world immediately tumbled to attend to his needs. Master Henry had arrived.

TWO MONTHS LATER

"It will disappear," said Ferg, encouraging. "Baby weight just takes time.

Ferg's words didn't help. Vic had just resumed walking, but wasn't up to running, yet. Carrying around the milk wagon wasn't condusive to so much jiggling, and they were tender. Henry was a fierce lil sucker.

Ruby came over and swatted Ferg. "You leave her alone."

Vic sighed in both relief and weariness. Henry at night, working during the day.

Today Walt had volunteered to stay with Henry while she caught up on paperwork, but she was going to have to pump again if she didn't leave soon.

Steps sounded on the stairs, and she immediately had a moment of panic. Walt bringing in Henry—why?

But it was Omar, beanie in hand in deference to the storm outside. Omar, who as recently-elected mayor, had defeated a disgraced Sawyer in a runaway election.

"Walt asked if I'd drive you home. You doing okay, Vic?"

She felt her lips twitch. She could drive, after all, but as tired as she was, gave a genuine smile. "Sure. First day I've left Henry, and I'm missing him. He's been pretty good in the office, but I know babies are a distraction."

"You look tired. I don't mind, besides, it's a mayoral perk to see a future constituent of Absaroka County."

"Ha." The guy who got me to the hospital in a timely manner so Walt didn't have to deliver that future. You don't know how much I appreciate that."

"Walt's just worried the storm will get worse and strand you here. I've got Big Bertha with me today."

She knew Bertha well. The dually could get almost anywhere with protruding treads and studs.

Ferg spoke up. "You go on, Vic. I can finish up here."

Ferg could. He had become a good friend, and a wonderful uncle. He and Cady were awesome babysitters, especially in tandem.

"Ferg's right. We're about to close up shop and go to emergency only, anyway," said Ruby.

Vic took a deep breath, squared the pile of papers and closed the file over them.

"I'll just get my coat."

She didn't have to say much on the trip out. Omar went on and on about ideas for partnerships with the casino and big money hunters, ideas for improvements for Durant.

She mostly smiled and listened. Her heart was a few miles distant, to a cabin in the snow.

He finally asked her, point-blank. "You gonna get around to marrying him? Because I think he's finally thinking straight since Martha died."

She didn't answer, just smiled at the snow and turned her head away.

Walt didn't come out to the porch when they arrived. Omar shoveled a path in with the one he kept in Bertha's bed. He continued to shovel the porch while she slipped in and removed her outerwear.

She was still wearing her maternity jeans, especially today with long underwear, and was afraid she would never quite fit into ones as tight as she used to wear. It had suddenly become less important, and Walt seemed to enjoy her new curves just fine. They had resumed relations a couple of weeks back, without problem or issue, although she was once again on the pill.

She glanced around. No Walt in the living area or kitchen. After yanking her boots off and setting them to dry near the fire, she tiptoed into their room where Henry's crib lay along the warmer inner wall for the duration. Walt had expansive plans for enlarging the cabin in warmer weather.

Walt and Henry were both out cold on the big bed, Walt snoring softly, his body cradling a blanket-wrapped Henry who sucked his lower lip in his sleep, his signal that it was nearly time for dinner again.

Vic bit her own lip and quietly removed her cell phone. She turned off the flash and snapped a few pictures of them together for posterity. Behind her in the other room, she could hear Omar messing with the fire.

He came to stand in the doorway behind her and whispered, "You are one lucky lady, Vicky."

For this time only, she didn't correct him, because he was so right, but she couldn't stop smiling.