Chapter 13: Gypsy

Concentrating on the directing the horse and landmarks to find the quickest route to the country estate, Jack made sure he cast frequent glances back at the three helpless human beings he had in his care. Denys, miraculously, had slept through the whole ordeal, the tiny babe joined him after being given to suck on a little milk. Claire he did not tend to, he did not know how. It wasn't as if there was an obvious way he could stop an internal blood flow and also, he dared to kindle the flicker of hope that with the disgusting mess that followed out of her after the child, it may have stopped on its own. Checking however, he did not care for and would've been a waste of the precious time they had till twilight, while he could still judge and negotiate his way on dirt tracks, based on memories of daytrips into nearby towns during his childhood.

His next glance back was routine as well, but this time, Claire's dazed eyes stared at him warily, probably without seeing him in the earnest. Jack nevertheless, yanked the horse's reigns to make them halt and scrambled over to the weakened woman, having important things to tell her, "Claire," he shook her to some sort of awareness where she raised her gaze at him. She was breathing shallow, and appearing abject and indifferent to her own condition however, already at a different plane of existence, where nothing else worldly mattered, a state Jack had often seen with soldiers gravely injured and succumbed to their fate. He had to get her to concentrate, interact first, if she was to understand what he had to say. Looking around for anything to help him at the task, he grabbed one of the horse blankets currently not in use and manoeuvred it under her legs and bottom half, turning her round to her side in the process, "it cannot be comfortable in all that stickiness," he explained, wincing at his own rather inadequate description of the pool of blood.

Claire blinked withal, movement and encouragement to engage in conversation raising her out her catatonic state for a moment, to the extent of her focussing on him and for recognition to set in. A weak hand reached the sleeve of his shirt, "thank you," she whispered, sincere and grateful, the simple words acknowledging her whole appreciation of how he'd handled the situation and exceeded any expectations she might've had of him. But then again, near death experiences, their own and of others around them, tended to change people. His darkness was largely in hiding, probably thanks to Alex and he would take good care of Denys, she was sure of that. She could die in peace knowing that some two hundred years later, her and Frank will meet in the future, a piece of her life that abstractly has both already played out and was to come. Her eyes closing in that peace of mind, she became vaguely aware that Jack was still shaking her, talking to her, but words she could not hear now, not even when she she opened her eyes at his insistence and saw his mouth moving.

"Frank..." She breathed out, orbs glassy with tears, so ready to see him in that other life. But Jack wouldn't leave her alone. What did he want? What could she possibly offer him in this state? He was pushing something towards her, a bundle. Denys needed something? His insistence and her care for the boy's welfare made her focus a little.

"Your babe. You child. Liveborn. It's a girl. Do you want to hold her?"

The world was tilting on its axis continuously, so could she have heard it right? "Mmmmm," she made what felt like mammoth effort to move her head and blink away the fogginess of her blurry eyes. A little crinkly baby, a lot smaller than Denys was by now, small tuft of hair at her forehead, miniature fingers waving in the air for purchase. Claire swallowed and found some strength in the realisation presented to her to raise her head this time, which Jack helping her along by repositioning her on the hay, child set down beside her.

The flood of emotion almost buried her at once. "She is alive?" It was hard to believe. The only explanation was that she had possibly been wrong about the time of her conception, and in that case, the baby was only slightly premature and so, most likely, possibly if she could get herself to believe it, viable.

"Healthy," he assured her, "as far as I can tell, midwifery not being a skill I have," he jested. "Though she hasn't cried much," he said dubiously.

"They don't all do," Claire found her voice, hand moving to caress her daughter. She wasn't able enough for much movement, she found and her palm settled on the baby's chest, but it was enough, she could feel her strong heartbeat, her taking breaths. For a long moment, she could only stare, tears of joy mixing with tears of the realisation that she will not be there for her and the only person she could entrust with her life was...Claire raised her eyes at Jack slowly, all her usually used air of control around him turning into complete and utter desperation. "Jack..." She started, formalities between them long forgotten. Claire was not sure under what circumstances of any godgiven situation would what she was going to beg for in any way appropriate, or wise.

"Madam," he responded very seriously nonetheless, "I have personally recovered from similar blood loss. You will too."

Claire shook her head. However inviting the sight of her daughter, she had to close her eyes for a moment to rest before establishing firmly, "I don't think so Captain and I am the expert."

Jack nodded at her solemnly, "in that case, please allow me to make another promise. These two babes," he gestured back to include Denys, "will arrive to the family estate as cousins. One I will claim to be mine and one I will claim to be my brother Alex's lawfully born child, like he should and could've been, which will provide them with a roof over their heads, nourishment and tuition till they are able to provide for themselves."

"Why would you do that?" Claire found it hard to understand and she was quite sure it wasn't just the blood loss.

"Don't you understand, Madam?" Jack seemed emotional to the extent his eyes sparkled, "you, your husband, the man I loved, he has given me the greatest gift there could be left of him, a piece of him, his child. The most precious thing in the world, and I will cherish and honour the memory through her."

Claire's weakness induced shakes intensified. There was something terrifyingly wicked in what he had just said. The way he perceived the concept of love, it could be poison. If her child would have been a boy, she was certain in that moment, that she would've smothered that baby herself on the spot if it was the last thing she had done. Her offspring wasn't to be Jack's replacement-Jamie-toy. But Jack was homosexual, which with his admission and circumstantial evidence, she did not doubt at least. Her daughter, as much as anyone, would be safe. So she finally settled on another breathless "thank you." A last stroke of the baby's arms, just in the reach of her fingers maybe she could manage before she went.

"Claire." Jack seemed to call her now on her given name as well at times when it really mattered, "what should be the name of the child?" He still didn't let her give in to exhaustion.

"Jamie wanted it to be Brian," she managed. "But it's a girl," Claire was somewhat at a loss. She never dared to think about names, dubious that any one of them would make it as far as that.

"Brianna then," the corners of Jack's mouth curved to something akin to a smile, coming to her rescue. Brianna. Brianna Randall it shall be, and that was alright. The last thing her brain still registered was those little newborn digits finally finding purchase, something to hang onto. One of Jack's large, rough fingers.

Tbc