Rosemary woke slowly, lost in the confusion of deciphering where she was and why she was sleeping on the floor of a cabin. The fire was still warm and crackling next to her, and there was bright sunshine streaming in through the space between the curtains. In fact, one of the sunbeams was so bright across her face that she finally had to make the effort to turn over.

She felt her muscles complain and she winced. Lee hadn't allowed her to do any heavy lifting during the move, but as he and his hired helpers had transferred her belongings to the wagon, she'd made more trips up and down the stairs than she could count. And then yesterday, huddled on Lee's lap, and walking through driving rain...

It all came back to her. She rubbed her eyes, hearing a rhythmic sound from outside the cabin that began to take form; the steady thwack of an ax hitting wood. Lee. Of course, Rosemary thought, smiling. Lee would replace the firewood they'd used. It was just how he lived his life.

For a time Rosemary was immobilized by the combination of her body not wanting to move and her mind focused on all that had happened yesterday. She closed her eyes and released an involuntary sigh. Reaching up, she moved her fingers slowly across her lips, as if they might be different for having shared so many kisses with Lee. Wonderful kisses; passionate and tender and revealing.

Rosemary smiled, hearing the wood being chopped outside, and suddenly she wanted to see him. She took a deep breath and sat up, and then, with some difficulty, she took hold of the fireplace hearth and pushed herself up to a standing position. She couldn't remember feeling this tired.

She knew a large part of it was the pregnancy. Madeleine Charlotte, she thought with a smile. Maddie. Now Lee has me thinking of her that way too.

Little Maddie seemed to be taking half of what she ate, and monopolizing more than half of her energy. Every woman she'd talked to said that it happened sometime during a pregnancy, early or late. Rosemary sighed and began talking to her little girl as if she were holding her in her lap. "My turn, now, Maddie. When we get home I'll let you take over, okay?"

Rosemary laughed. Shaking her head, she said, "Half my food. Half my energy. Half my brain, too, obviously, because I'm talking to my stomach."

She was still in the nightdress that she'd changed into in the dark last night after Lee had moved over to the other side of the fireplace. They'd found quilts to layer on the floor and Rosemary had been happily warm next to the fire. She knew that in order for the fire to stay that way, Lee had to have been adding wood and stoking it all during the night. And now he was up and working as the sun rose. Again, Rosemary smiled. Yes, Lee is a very good man.

Fitting her feet into her slippers, pulling her robe around her and tying it at her waist, Rosemary went to the window. She hadn't heard the ax fall in a few minutes and she could see Lee bent over and resting on the handle. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be breathing heavily. Rosemary frowned and went to the back door of the cabin, opening it.

"Lee?" she said, stepping out onto a small stoop.

His head jerked up and he blinked at her a couple of times. Even at the distance between them, she could see that his face was flushed. Without thinking, she walked out in her robe and down the steps to the soggy dirt, ruining her slippers and not feeling in the least worried about it.

"Lee?" she said again, moving closer. He was still looking at her as if he was trying to figure out who she was. Rosemary put her hand on his shoulder and the other hand went naturally to his forehead.

He was ablaze with fever.

"Lee," she said firmly. "We need to get you inside. You're burning up."

And just to be contradictory, at that moment, Lee shivered as if he'd gotten a sudden chill.

Rosemary's heart went cold with a memory. Her mother had died of pneumonia when she was twelve. She remembered so clearly the horrible choking cough that went with it, and the headache that gave her mother such pain she said it felt like her head was ready to explode. Rosemary put her arm around Lee and began walking him to the cabin, still uncertain how serious this was. If he started coughing, she would know.

Then, Lee coughed. A deep racking sound followed by a labored breath, as if he were drowning. It was all very familiar, and most definitely pneumonia. Rosemary knew that there were only two outcomes. If Lee survived, it would take weeks before he was strong enough to leave his bed. If his body couldn't fight it off, then...

Reaching down, Rosemary picked up Lee's limp hand and peered at his fingernails. The beds had a slightly blue tinge. Lack of oxygen. He was literally drowning.

Rosemary pushed down the panic that began to rise in her chest. She had to get him home, back to Dr. Sommersby. Martin would know what to do.

"Lee," she said, working at keeping her voice calm. "We need to get back to Hope Valley. Can you tell me about the wagon and the horses?"

Lee turned and looked at her. She could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his breathing was getting more difficult. "Wagon...fine," he managed to say between deep breaths. "Need to hitch horses..." His eyes began to close and Rosemary stopped to look at him intently.

"I know you want to sleep, and you can, as soon as we get you in the wagon. Please, Lee, can you stay with me until then? I can hitch the horses; I know how. But I won't be able to lift you into the wagon. You're going to have to get up there yourself."

Rosemary was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of self-pity. How could this be happening to her? Pregnant, already exhausted, and hungry. Her eyes began filling with tears, and then she took a deep breath and steeled herself.

No. I don't have time for that now. I can fall apart after I get Lee to the doctor.

She felt Lee begin to buckle, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "No, you don't, Lee Coulter. You need to help me." She tightened her arm around his waist and he looked directly at her. She saw him fight the weariness and a small fire came back into his glazed eyes. He nodded and stood straighter.

"Okay," he said, and then coughed again. With sheer force of will, he began to walk a little faster around the side of the cabin directly out to the road. He knew he could only do one thing to help Rosemary, and that was to get himself up into the wagon.

He was so grateful that he'd checked the wagon at first light. No cracks or breaks that he could see in either the wheel or the axle. He'd managed to lever one of the rocks out of the way so that the path was clear for the horses to pull it out once they were hitched.

But it was still a longer walk than he remembered to the road. Every time his knees buckled, Rosemary would tighten her arm around him. Finally she could see the horses tethered to two trees on a picket line. She wondered when Lee had done that and realized he must have come back out when the rain and wind calmed, to make sure they were secured.

While she slept. And he'd tended the fire while she slept. And managed to clear the wheel of the wagon. While she slept.

And now it was up to her to get him home. Whatever it took, she would do it. She wouldn't give up on him.

Because Rosemary knew for a fact that Lee would never give up on her.

Abigail wiped her hands on her apron and looked at the clock. The sun had just come up and she decided that it was time to wake Hickam.

She'd assumed that Rosemary and Lee had gotten in late and didn't want to wake her, but when she went to Rosemary's bedroom it was empty and it was clear they hadn't come home. Her first thought was that they had decided to stay another night in Cape Fullerton, but she knew that Rosemary would have sent a wire so she wouldn't be concerned. Abigail had checked with Ned Yost repeatedly before finally going to sleep and nothing had come through.

Now she was truly getting worried.

She made one last check of the oven to be sure the roast for lunch was covered securely, and she banked the fire. Removing her apron, she started toward the door when she heard a creak on the stairs.

"Not home yet?" Charlotte said matter-of-factly, buttoning her vest.

"No," Abigail said, continuing toward the door as Charlotte followed. "I'm going to see if Ned has gotten a wire, and then I'll have him contact Mountie Headquarters in Cape Fullerton and make sure they made it there safely. Bill is in Benson Hills today, or I'd ask him..." Abigail stopped at the door. "Then, I think I'll have Hickam ride out. Just in case..."

Charlotte shook her head firmly, as she walked to the back door to retrieve her hat and coat. "You can't send a boy out to do a man's job. I'll ride out."

Abigail frowned. "You have school, Charlotte. And Hickam is very capable..."

"Ask Rebecca to take over school. She loves those children. She can teach them... about... oh, I don't know, about running a ranch."

Charlotte already had her coat and hat on and she was ready to breeze past Abigail toward the livery.

"Charlotte. Let Hickam..." Abigail started.

Stopping inches away from Abigail, Charlotte said in a softly ominous tone, "Let that boy ride out and see to the safety of... my grandson and his mother? My Jack's son? All that I have left of him? While I stay here and wait?" She narrowed her eyes. "I thought you knew me better, Abigail."

Abigail stepped back and exhaled. "Of course, Charlotte, you're right. You have to go. But will you let Hickam go with you?"

"Only if he doesn't get in my way," Charlotte said, opening the door and taking full strides on her long legs toward the livery. "Put a fire under him, because I'm leaving now."

Abigail started toward Hickam's apartment behind the sawmill office. "He'll catch up to you," she called out.

"He can try," Charlotte said.

Rosemary filled the bucket again with water from the pump and poured it over the fire. It sputtered and hissed and she stirred it to be sure the embers were completely out. The cabin had probably saved their lives last night, and she had no desire to thank the owners by burning it down.

This was going to be her last trip out to the wagon, but after three of them, she was completely exhausted. She'd made the first trip in her robe and slippers. The slippers she had then simply thrown outside in the trash.

Rosemary knew that Lee needed to stay hydrated, so she'd filled Mason jars with water and had carried them out in a basket, along with as many quilts as she could hold. She'd written a note to the owners of the cabin explaining that they would come back to get their bags and bring back the jars and quilts once they'd gotten help. She thanked them, apologized for the mess and the missing graham crackers, and closed the door behind her.

As she walked out toward the road, her muscles aching and her feet sore, Rosemary was blessing every wretched day she'd spent with her father, and then Jack, out in the wilderness. She'd loved certain aspects of camping, particularly the stories around the fire at night and the pristine scenery; but cooking and cleaning up, sleeping rough, hiking and managing horses hadn't always been her favorite parts of the experience. Now she was so grateful she knew how to hitch a team to a wagon, that she knew she needed to move the picket line to a place where the grass was full and not soggy so the horses could graze. She knew how to untie the lashings on the wagon in order to get Lee under the tarp and onto the dry mattress from her bed. And she knew how to drive a wagon and get them home.

Lee was to the point of being almost delirious. When she got to the wagon, she covered him in more quilts, hoping it would stop his shivering. She forced him to drink some water and checked to be sure his chest pains and headache weren't worsening, and she was grateful that his nails and lips had lost a little of their blue color.

Then, immersed in the pain of seeing him this way, and terrified that she would lose him, she knelt down next to him in the wagon bed and touched her cool cheek to his blazing one.

"Lee Coulter," she said, tears beginning to fill her eyes. "If you leave me now, just as I've found you, I will never forgive you as long as I live." She moved over to kiss his lips, feeling the heat of them reach out into the air between them. A tear fell from her lashes and ran down his cheek.

"I have something else to tell you, though I don't know if you can hear it." She put her lips near his ear. "I love you. I know it's too soon, and I'm supposed to be a widow, and I did love Jack, but I didn't know you then. I didn't know I could feel this much..." Her voice broke and she began to cry softly. Lee's eyes were closed and his breathing sounded as if he was under water.

"Don't you leave me," Rosemary said forcefully through her teeth. "You said you weren't going anywhere. Don't you dare leave me."

Elizabeth watched as a rivulet of water snaked its way down the cabin window. It had been raining all day and the sky and the land outside held the same flat gray color. In a way, it matched her mood.

She missed Hope Valley with an intensity that she could hardly describe. If she'd had any question about where home was, having just been in Hamilton, it had been answered. She longed for the rattle of the wagons on the main street, for the smell of Abigail's cooking, for the sound of the children's laughter, for one of Rebecca's hugs, for Ned Yost's smile and Florence's raised eyebrow. And she missed holding Allie with a passion that was near to hunger. Reaching down, she placed her hands on her stomach, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that though this child would come from Nathan and be a part of her, he or she would have no more love than they had for Allie.

From the moment she'd first seen Allie in the saloon, on that day when so many terrible things had happened, she'd been drawn to the little girl in Nathan's arms. The little girl who loved her hat - her broken and battered hat, still beautiful in Allie's eyes. Just remembering that day as she watched the rain, Elizabeth felt tears start.

At four years old, Allie had been thrown across a crowded, terrifying street, into her uncle's strong arms, as her mother died. Elizabeth thought, How can the human spirit survive something like that and still see the world with wonder and joy the way Allie does? And as she watched the rivers of rain curl down the train window, Elizabeth made a promise. Whatever she had to do, she would be a mother to Allie. The best mother she could be.

Elizabeth heard the key turn in the lock and stood to help Nathan with the breakfast he was bringing from the Club Car. Clara was staying in her cabin as well, reading. The weather had made them all introspective, and the fact that they would arrive first thing tomorrow morning back in Hope Valley had them all wanting a quiet day in.

"Eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice and coffee," Nathan said, using his back to hold the door open as Elizabeth took the tray. She grimaced slightly at the smell of the bacon, and Nathan noticed. He quickly took the tray back after closing the door. "I'll eat your bacon," he said, reading her mind and kissing her on the cheek.

"I think we should wait to tell Allie," Elizabeth said, gingerly taking a sip of the orange juice.

Nathan frowned. "About the bacon?" he said.

Smiling at him, Elizabeth said, "No, about the baby."

"Oh," Nathan said, putting the tray down on the table after carefully navigating his way over the mattresses on the floor.

"I just think..." Elizabeth started, and then stopped. "Just in case..."

Nathan took one look at her and moved quickly over to the small couch where she had just sat down. He put his arms around her and wasn't surprised to feel her crying softly against his shoulder. "Oh, angel," he said softly, holding her close and stroking her hair gently.

"It feels so fragile," she said into the warmth of his neck, "And so important, and precious..."

Nathan exhaled softly. "I know." He pulled away and looked into her eyes, which were brimming over again. Smiling, he whispered, "And strong. Like us."

She couldn't help smiling back at him. "We are strong, aren't we?" she said, as Nathan pulled one of the linen napkins from the tray and dried her tears.

Nodding, he said, "Very."

"I want to adopt Allie right away," Elizabeth said suddenly.

Nathan was rapidly becoming accustomed to the quick changes of mood and subject that came with pregnancy. He narrowed his eyes slightly and sighed. "It's complicated, 'Lizbeth," he said. "Her father is still alive, even if we don't know where he is."

"Then we should find him. And ask him. We shouldn't wait for him to come to us. We should find him." Nathan watched as her sadness was replaced with resolve. He couldn't help smiling at her passion.

"Can we do it tomorrow, or does it have to be today?" he said, stifling the laugh that was starting.

Tilting her head and raising an eyebrow, Elizabeth said, "Tomorrow is fine. I just mean soon." She snuggled back down into his shoulder.

"Soon," Nathan said, gazing over her head and out of the rainy window to the expanse of land beyond.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Dylan Parks again, but Elizabeth was right. It was time.