Please make sure you are checking every chapter. Some days I have posted multiple chapters and some could have been missed. I can see a count on how many times each chap is viewed and one has a lower count than the others...so I just wanted to certain that you were aware of the multiple postings. Thank you for the great reviews. I am loving the conversations this is generating. If you aren't already on the When Calls the Heart ~ Fan Fiction Facebook page, be sure to join. There are many fun converstions going on in our little book club. If you requested to join in the past but didn't get approved, please try again.

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A few more weeks had passed since Jack had returned to me. Other than work, we spent more time together than apart. The kids were ecstatic and played like the best of friends. One weekend, while Max and Alex spent time at my parents' house, Jack and I lay in bed together, having just made love for what must have been the millionth time. My head rested in the space below his shoulder, and his fingers traced imaginary lines along my bare back.

"Tell me all about your husband."

"What? I've already told you about him."

"Tell me more. How you guys met, what your first thoughts of him were, how he proposed, everything. What did he do that made you laugh, cry, angry? What was your favorite part of your life together? What scared you? Please share every beautiful and ugly detail with me. Maxwell was, and still is, a huge part of you, and I want to know everything you're willing to share."

And I did. We talked for hours, and I told him everything. Everything. Right down to how I was a virgin on my wedding night and what it had been like. I've never even shared that with Rosie. I don't know what it is about Jack, but he makes me want to open up and not hold anything back. I told him so many things that I have never told a soul, including the night after we found out about Max's cancer.

Max and I went home after the doctor's appointment. The ride home had been torture. Neither of us said a single word. I got him settled into his chair with his blanket because he couldn't seem to get warm, then I went out to the garage. At first, I just stood and cried. I cried so many tears – the ugly kind. You know what I'm talking about. And then I broke things. Did it help? Not one bit. But I couldn't stop. I smashed an old lamp onto the concrete floor, ripped the clock off the wall, and threw it against the cabinets. Then I opened the cupboards, pulled every glass mason jar out, and let them fall to the floor into what seemed like five million pieces. Buttons, screws, nails, washers, and many other things littered the floor among the glass. The next day, I went out and cleaned up the mess before Max saw it. I'm certain he had heard the commotion in the garage and had an idea of what I'd done. It was loud; there's no way he hadn't heard it. But Max had never said a word to me. He knew I was angry. Our life together had just begun, and now it was being ripped from me.

"You must have been so scared, and I'm sorry," Jack said after my confession.

He had laughed with me over the funny things Max would do. He even cried with me when I told him about Max's final days, including when we found out about the baby. Jack was amazing, and nothing I told him seemed to change his opinion of me. If anything, I think he loved me more after that.

"So, you know just about everything there is to know about me now. You know way more than Rosie ever will. It's your turn now."

And that was all I had to say. Jack was an open book. But when he started talking about his twin brother, Tom, and how he died right in front of him, I lost it. I bawled, and so did Jack, and we held each other until the tears had stopped. I'm a crier, and if Jack hadn't known it already – which I'm pretty sure he already knew – he did now. I couldn't even fathom what it must have been like for a thirteen-year-old to see his best friend and brother run over by a car and killed. To see his poor little lifeless body lying on the sidewalk. To see his own face covered in blood and unmoving. I just can't fathom how a little boy's mind could even cope. And here I go, crying again as I share this. Good grief.

And then he began talking about JoAnn. I remained quiet and let him spill it all. It had been therapeutic for me to share things with Jack about Max; I imagined it was the same for him.

JoAnn and Jack had met at the gym. Jack had always been into fitness since his late teenage years, and he'd never stopped. It was quite obvious. He had just finished a workout and was headed to the locker room when JoAnn ran out of the racket ball court and straight into Jack. He told me that had been it for him. It was love at first sight, and he'd asked her out before they left the gym that day.

They dated for over a year before Jack proposed. She had seemed so normal and so much fun, and Jack thought they'd last forever. But two years into their marriage, she began to change. JoAnn slowly began to withdraw from him after he'd brought up children. He'd wanted them; she didn't. He'd realized they had never really spoken about this before. They were young, and he assumed she'd want some. He had been very wrong. She wanted nothing but Jack. Just the two of them. She told him that kids would tear them apart and cost too much money. She didn't want to have to clean up after them or feed them. It was then Jack began to see just how selfish JoAnn really was. He tried to make it work. He tried to convince himself that he really didn't need children. But it was tearing him apart. He loved JoAnn very much. She was beautiful, big-hearted, talented, and loved him back. But a child was where she drew the line.

The day they found out she was pregnant, Jack was on his knees begging her not to terminate. He wanted this child and felt that once JoAnn held the baby in her arms, she'd change her mind and fall in love with it. But once again, Jack had been very wrong. JoAnn had tried, but the more Jack pushed, the more she despised him and Alex. Jack even thought that allowing JoAnn to name her would help her feel closer to the baby. He had been wrong about that as well.

The morning JoAnn had left, Jack was in the nursery feeding Alex. He cradled her in his arms and slowly rocked the white, wooden rocking chair next to the window. He just happened to glance out in time to see JoAnn running across the yard with two suitcases in her hands. Jack stood, carefully placed his daughter in the crib, then ran out the front door.

He had tried to stop her, but there was no changing her mind. She tried to take the Jeep, but Jack snatched the keys away and locked the doors. The Jeep had belonged to Jack before they met, and he wasn't about to let her take it. He'd asked her about Alex. How could she just leave her own daughter? But JoAnn looked at him as if she didn't care. The way she'd spoken of Alex was how one would talk about someone they had met by chance one day while walking through a store. Jack couldn't believe how cold she was, stepped back, and watched her leave without saying another word.

I couldn't believe someone could feel that way about their own child. My heart overflowed with love for Max the second I saw his face. I couldn't imagine life without him from that very moment. He was my world.

I felt so bad for what Jack and Alex had both been through. And, as Jack had been, I was very grateful that Alex had been too young to remember any of that. Even when JoAnn tried to return, Alex was too young. Jack said that JoAnn had been furious when he denied her their bedroom. He informed her that he wasn't about to let her back into his heart after she'd ripped it from his chest. If she wanted to have a relationship with their daughter, he would support that for Alex's sake. But she had a lot of work to do before Jack took her back as his wife.

Just when he thought they might be able to make it, and she'd begun to show a little compassion and love for their daughter, Alex had gotten sick with RSV that hospitalized her and, JoAnn took off again. When Jack returned home with Alex after having been in the PICU for two days, JoAnn and her things were gone. Along with a few hundred dollars Jack had hidden in the house, one of his guns, and a few other random things that might be worth pawning.

That was the last straw for Jack. He'd begun his search for her, which spread over the next couple of years. After several leads had led to nothing, he hired a lawyer and started the divorce process that way.

And then I came along.

I rolled onto my stomach, propped up on my elbows beside him, and then kissed Jack's side along his ribcage. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

"Of course," he said as he ran his fingers through my hair. "Thank you for listening."

The grin on his face let me know he was teasing, but a tinge of guilt still stabbed me in the gut. "Again, I'm so sorry about that."

Jack moved to his side and slid down the bed until he was even with me. "It's in the past and over with. Don't worry about it. If I had been in your shoes and gone through what you'd been through, I probably would have done the same thing." He pushed the side of my hair back as his eyes searched my face. "But maybe not, once I got a good look at you."

Jack rolled me to my back and moved over me, and we made love again. It felt as if I would never get enough of him. I never wanted him to stop, and I never wanted to leave his bed. I couldn't believe this was my reality. I've seen it many times in movies, like Amanda and Dawson in The Best of Me, a love so strong that it spanned across decades of them being apart. Though they didn't have their happy ending in that movie – sorry if you haven't seen it yet, spoiler alert – their love ran deep to the bottom of their souls. I had no plans on missing out on my happy ending or any more years between now and then. I had my second chance, and I planned on keeping him – as long as he'd have me. And by how he looks at me, treats me, and makes love to me, I'm pretty sure he feels the same way.

…..

After the day we shared so much of each other, we became even closer. I'm still baffled by how since I thought we were already about as close as any couple could be. But sharing our past heartaches and pains had given us a new respect for each other. Though our experiences were quite different, they still felt like they gave us something else in common.

Jack had been back in my life for two months, and we were preparing for our first Christmas together. If you remember, the last time we were getting ready for Christmas, a certain Mrs. Thornton came knocking on the door. I was pretty sure there wouldn't be any more surprises knocking on the door this year, and I was looking forward to a wonderful holiday with Jack and Alex.

One week before Christmas, while wrapping a gift for Max, a wave of nausea hit me like a train. I tore through the house to the bathroom just in time to spill my lunch into the toilet. I felt miserable. It lasted that entire day and through the next two days without letting up. Jack finally insisted that I make a doctor's appointment. If nothing else, they could give me something to settle my stomach so I could eat and stop dry heaving.

I sat on the edge of the cold table in the office, waiting for the results of my blood draw, when I got a text from Jack. He had to work that day, so he was unable to come with me. I had finally made it through that morning without throwing up, though the nausea was still there, so I drove myself to the appointment and told Jack I'd let him know when I'd headed home.

Anything yet?

No, still waiting.

Okay. Let me know when you go and that you made it home safe.

Okay. Love you.

Love you, too, Baby.

As I read Jack's last text, my heart stopped. What? Could I?

…..

I was sitting on the couch when Jack arrived home from work that evening. I had called my mom and asked her if she could watch the kids for a few hours, and she was more than happy to. Jack walked in, still in uniform, tossed his gun belt onto the table, and began removing his vest. He hadn't noticed me in the room yet, so I sat quietly as my heart raced.

"Beth," he said when he finally noticed me. "Why are you sitting in the dark, and why are you being so quiet."

"I have something I need to tell you."

Jack flipped the light on, crossed the room, and sat on the coffee table in front of me with his knees straddling mine. "What is it? What did you find out at the doctor?"

"First, I want you to open this." I handed Jack a small box that I'd wrapped with Christmas paper.

"Beth, come on," he said as he took the box from me and tossed it on the couch. "What did the doctor say?"

I picked it up and handed it back to Jack. "Please, open this first, then I'll tell you what he said."

I could tell Jack was upset with me, but he quickly tore the paper off and opened the box. He picked up the item that was tucked inside and held it up. "What is this?" I sat quietly, waiting for the realization to come to him. And when it did, the biggest grin spread across his face. "Are you for real? You are? We are?"

"Yes."

Jack jumped to his feet and pulled me up. He hugged me tight and spun around, almost making us fall in the small space between the couch and the table. He put me back down and held me out at arm's length. "You're not bullshitting me, are you? This is for real?" Jack held out the onesie and read it again. Merry Christmas, Daddy.

"No BS, this is for real."

"Oh, my God, Beth." He hugged me again and spun around. "Do you have any idea how happy this makes me?"

"I think I have an idea." I laughed, finally allowing myself to smile. I had actually been able to hide my grin this time and was quite proud of myself.

"We're having a baby." He said those words over and over. I think he was trying to convince himself that it was real more than anything else. "But wait. How? We were always careful."

"Well, do you remember when you took me out on the bike, and we sort of ended up in the shower at the truck stop?"

"Yes, and you told me we were good."

"Yep, not so much. I miscounted. Twice."

"Oh, Baby, I have never been as happy at your lack of math as I am right now."

I threw my head back in laughter as Jack spun me around again. But then, after about the fifth turn, I ran to the bathroom. And once more, Jack was holding my hair back as I dumped the contents of my stomach into the toilet, what little there had been.

…..

Jack and I announced the news on Christmas day to only his parents and mine. We decided to wait a couple of months before telling the kids, just to make certain everything was going as it should. Our parents were overjoyed for us, of course, and my mom asked when the wedding day would be. I had to explain to her that it would happen eventually, but we weren't going to run out and get married just because I'd gotten pregnant.

She let it go since I had told her we'd marry someday, knowing she couldn't say anything to force us into it sooner. She and dad were a bit more old school than Jack's parents, so I could see the disappointment in their eyes when we'd given them the news. But they could see the love Jack and I had for each other, and they were excited for another grandchild. There was nothing they could do to change the fact that their daughter had slept with a man she wasn't married to and had gotten herself pregnant, so they didn't press the matter and allowed themselves to be happy.

When I first received the news, verifying what I had already guessed, I was still shocked. This was the last thing on my mind, and I had truly thought I'd had the flu. But when the nurse came in with the results, my heart raced with excitement. After having heard Jack's story of JoAnn, I did not doubt that he'd be ecstatic. I couldn't wait for him to get home so I could tell him. I stopped at three stores on my way to the house until I found that onesie, which was perfect.

The next few weeks had us going over our situation. Both our homes were too small for our combined family with a new little one coming. So, we came to the decision to sell them both and buy a bigger one. At first, the kids were upset about us selling their homes, but when they realized we'd all be living together, they wanted to help us shop for the new one. We still hadn't told them about the baby yet; we were saving that news for a little later.

I will say, this pregnancy so far has been night and day different from my first one. I was sick for weeks before it began to let up. I had lost weight instead of gaining, and my doctor was concerned. By my twelfth week, the nausea let up, and I finally began to put on weight. Jack had been very worried during these early weeks and pampered and spoiled me rotten. Breakfast in bed, foot rubs, and flowers, among other things, were his way of showing me how much he loved me and hoping to make me feel a little better. He was amazing, and I had never seen him so excited about anything as he was over this baby. We'd both decided that we wanted to wait to find out the sex, so as I lay in bed, I scrolled through photo after photo of gender-neutral nurseries. As I'm sure most of you know, Pinterest is addictive. I lost so many hours looking for ideas on that app. By the end of the week, I'd had the nursery planned, names picked out, cribs narrowed down, stroller and car seat chosen, and the next color I wanted to be painted on my nails at the salon.

I think it was a Thursday, no, it was a Wednesday, and I was walking across the hall from my office to my editor's office to show him the latest ad campaign. Jim had the copy ready, and we needed to make sure it would fit in the current layout. Once we were finished and I was headed back to my office, I felt something odd in my pants, like I'd just wet myself. I rushed to the restroom, locked the door, and pulled my pants and underwear down. My panties were soaked in blood, and a little was running down my leg. I panicked. I just happened to have my phone with me, and the first person I called was Jack. I knew he was working that day, so I wasn't surprised when he hadn't answered. The next call was to Rosie.

She worked for an architect that was only two buildings down. We had lunch together most days, and I couldn't keep this secret from her, so she knew I was pregnant. Within minutes of hanging up the phone, she was knocking on the bathroom door.

"Elizabeth, let me in."

I opened the door, and I must have been quite the sight, as the look on Rosemary's face was complete horror. I looked in the mirror for the first time. I had been crying, and my mascara was running down my cheeks. I had blood on my hands, and my pants were still around my ankles. Once they were back up and fastened, she helped me wash my hands and face, and then she proceeded to clean the small amount of blood that had found its way to the floor. Rosie was my greatest friend.

Everything was a blur that day, but I do remember hearing her tell Rylee, my coworker, that she was rushing me to the hospital. Rylee ran to my office, retrieved my purse and coat, and met us at the elevator before the door closed.

I tried Jack three more times during the ride to the hospital. I knew he kept his ringer off while in the cruiser, so I was hoping he'd see the screen light up. But no luck. Rosie pulled up in front of the emergency room doors and helped me out of the car. She had grabbed a blanket from the trunk for me to sit on, and as I stood, I looked back and saw that it was covered with blood. My heart sank as I knew what was happening. I was losing this baby. Our baby. The beautiful thing that Jack and I had created. Jack would be devastated just as much as I was. I lifted my phone and tried him one more time.

That's exactly what happened. The doctor tried to explain that it was a spontaneous abortion. My body sensed the fetus wasn't developing properly and aborted it. I hated that word. I'll use miscarriage instead. By the time Jack had seen my eight missed calls, I was already admitted, in a gown and a bed, and our baby was gone. Rosie remained by my side until Jack arrived, then left so we could be alone.

The second Jack walked in the door, I lost it, and so did he. He held me as we cried together, mourning the loss of our baby. This baby was so wanted and needed, and we were crushed knowing we would never meet our son or daughter. We would never even know if we'd had a boy or a girl. I told Jack everything that had happened, from beginning to end, and he was angry with himself for not being there for me. I let him know that it wasn't his fault, but I know how he is; he'll be angry about this forever. He was here now, and that's what mattered.

Jack had to make the phone call to my parents and his, and they worked out a plan for Max and Alex. Both of us needed some days to cope with this before we could see the kids again. They still hadn't been told about the pregnancy, so I didn't want them to see us upset.

The hospital released me that evening, and Jack drove me home. He made a quick stop at the store to buy a few necessary items – I won't get into the gross details – and he came out with a huge bouquet of flowers. When we got home, I dug through the other bags of things he'd purchased, and there were also cans of soup, a frozen pizza, chips, pop, and chocolate. He knew I loved chocolate. I picked up the Dove bag and headed for the couch.

Jack returned to the car to get a couple more bags of groceries, and then he put everything away. When he was finished, he joined me in the living room, carrying two glasses of wine. I gladly took one and enjoyed a good long sip. Jack sat on the couch beside me, and I leaned into him as he wrapped his arm around me. I handed him the remote and let him choose because I didn't care what we watched. I unwrapped one of the chocolates and read the printed words of wisdom that Dove included with each piece. It read, "After every storm, there's a rainbow, no matter how long it takes to show up." Grace V. from Ohio had submitted that one, and I wondered if she'd written it just for me for that moment. Jack mindlessly scrolled through the guide for several minutes before finally settling on Friends. He knew I needed to laugh to get through this, and so did he. And that's what we did. We laughed at Joey and his childish games, and Phoebe and her ridiculous ideals, but it was the episode where Chandler and Monica found out they couldn't have children. Jack quickly turned it to an episode of Family Feud.

I stared at the glass of wine in my hand. It was red wine, and as I looked at it, I had flashbacks of seeing blood. I quickly set it on the table to get it out of my hands. I slid down the couch and laid my head on Jack's lap. He combed his fingers through my hair, over and over. It was calming, and I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of my long hair as it dropped across my shoulder, lifted, and fell again. It took my mind off things, and I was thankful that Jack continued this action for so long. He had no idea its effect on me, but he continued doing it just the same.

It hadn't taken long for me to fall asleep. When I woke two hours later, my head was still on Jack's lap, his arm rested across mine, and he was sound asleep. I eased up, trying not to wake him, but Jack was up as soon as I moved.

"I'm sorry. Why don't you go lie down in my bed and go to sleep? I know you have an early shift tomorrow."

"I'm not going in. I took a personal day."

Jack stretched his arms out and yawned, then shifted his leg around to get the feeling back. I stood and picked up my wine, carried it to the kitchen, and poured it down the drain. Seeing the red liquid snake across the porcelain of the sink took me right back to earlier that day – the place I didn't want to be. I gripped the edge of the sink, bent over until my head was touching the counter between my hands, and screamed.

Jack was by my side in an instant and held me as we crumpled to the floor. I bawled and bawled, and it didn't feel like it would end anytime soon. Jack held me for what felt like an eternity, then stood, picked me up, and carried me to my bedroom. Once I was in sweatpants and a T-shirt, Jack helped me to bed, then slid in behind me. His strong arm was around me as he pulled me against the length of his body. My back fit perfectly against his chest, my butt into his pelvis, and our legs followed the same path. He enveloped me with his security and love as I cried myself to sleep. At times, I could hear him sniffling in the back of my hair. I felt sad and horrible for myself, but I felt dreadful about what this had done to Jack. He was the strong one for me because that's what I needed. But who was going to be the strong one for him? Who was there to pick him up when I couldn't even pick myself up? It wasn't fair; not fair at all. I had Jack, but Jack had no one. I wasn't strong enough. I was a mess. I wanted to comfort Jack like he was doing for me. But I didn't have the strength, and I felt like shit for it.