There is a certain freedom in having your worst fears realized, Rosemary thought as she watched Charlotte ride away.

For the last three days, her time with Lee had been time she wouldn't have chosen to spend anywhere else. Even with him being so sick, and her day-long worry about finding their way home – she wouldn't have traded a minute of it.

As she lay in the wagon holding him and looking up at the stars while Hickam silently got under way to drive them back to Hope Valley, she wondered how she was going to enjoy what she was feeling in a very small town that expected her to be grieving - and it was a town that thought it knew about the grief of wives who had lost their husbands. In New York, she and Lee would be lost in the crowds; in Hope Valley, their every move would be scrutinized.

Rosemary understood that this new relationship would be difficult to explain to women who were still, a year later, unable to imagine themselves with another man. Here she was, a month later, already there. But they couldn't comprehend her relationship with Jack, and they probably wouldn't understand Rosemary's ability to compartmentalize her grief.

And really, how was Rosemary supposed to explain this immediate and irrevocable connection to Lee Coulter if she couldn't understand it herself?

From the moment they'd met. And she had no doubt that if Lee had come backstage that night in New York, it would have happened then. What came to mind was that overused word: soulmates.

What Rosemary could only say in her own head, and would never be able to utter aloud, was the answer to the question: if she had met Lee first, would she have married Jack? She knew that the answer was no.

Rosemary's happiness in life had been built on the bedrock of understanding the limitations of relationships; because relationships were with people, and people were flawed. Her mother, her father, and every man she'd ever known had disappointed her at some time or another. So to Rosemary, the fact that Jack was flawed wasn't a surprise; and because of that, she knew she had never given her heart fully to him.

But Lee – this was different. Looking over at him with nothing but the moon illuminating his face, Rosemary knew that if he didn't survive this, she would be mourning him for a very long, long time. In fact, she could hardly allow herself to think about it. She didn't expect to feel this way again in a lifetime.

"Oh, Lee," she whispered, placing her lips against his skin and holding them there just under his chin. "You keep fighting. Fight for us."

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and in the silence of the night, Rosemary finally faced something else she'd been avoiding all day. Maddie. She took a deep breath, knowing that she had to tiptoe into these thoughts. They were complicated and painful and something she could just barely admit to herself. But lying in the wagon with Lee under the stars, she opened herself up to them.

There was an awareness she'd had from the moment she'd felt she was pregnant, not only of a continuing connection to Jack, but of another small soul inside her. It was unmistakable. And now she put thoughts to what she'd been pushing away all day long. That feeling was gone. She'd allowed herself to think that it was because she was busy, and in charge, and worried – but in the quiet of the wagon next to Lee, Rosemary searched and found nothing.

In the long hours of the day driving the horses in the silence broken only by her own voice, Rosemary had tried not to think about why she felt so alone in her body. It was sooner than even a doctor could tell her that she was expecting, but she'd been so sure she was. And now, she felt an emptiness where Maddie used to be. And the ache in her abdomen was all too familiar; not hunger, not sickness, but a feeling she'd known every month since she was thirteen. She was afraid to look, because she knew what she would see. As always, Shakespeare had the words for it. Out, brief candle.

So as she lay next to Lee and looked up at God's creation above her, she let the tears flow.

Hickam turned back to her, hearing something. "Rosemary? You okay?" he said, his voice gentle.

She'd thought she was crying silently, but clearly she wasn't. "It's been a long day, Michael," she said softly. She had nothing at hand to wipe her eyes, so she buried her face into Lee's chest, soaking the shirt under his coat.

"I know," Hickam said softly. He turned his eyes back to the road, giving her some privacy. "We'll be home soon."

Home. Hope Valley. Rosemary took a shuddering breath and let the feeling wash over her. She knew that no matter what, there would be arms open in Hope Valley, ready to hold and comfort her. Elizabeth and Nathan, Abigail, Florence, Bill, Molly, Cat. And Lee. Always Lee.

Once her tears stopped, she looked up at the stars and tried to find Jack. She couldn't feel him either, and she wondered if he and Maddie were together. That finally made her smile, and it allowed her to feel the sense of deep relief that just moments before had seemed so wrong.

All things work together for good, she thought. She could now admit that it would have been complicated, though she was certain she and Lee would have loved Maddie with their whole hearts. Jack was gone and Rosemary had never been someone who lived in the past. Now there was nothing stretching before her but the future.

She pulled closer to Lee and closed her eyes as Hickam drove on into the night.

This time, Nathan wouldn't let Elizabeth help him pick up the mattresses and put them back into their places on the bunks.

She stood looking at him with her hands on her hips and her head tilted. "Is this the way it's going to be for another eight months? You not letting me lift a finger? I'm not an invalid, you know."

Nathan grunted as he put the top bunk mattress back. "No, but you're carrying my son and heir, and that deserves a little coddling."

Elizabeth laughed out loud. "Your son and heir?" she said, completely losing the stern look she'd been wearing moments ago.

Nathan looked at her and wiggled an eyebrow.

"Oh, good," she said, still laughing. "I was worried there for a minute. I've heard you never know how men will react to pregnancy."

After wrestling the second mattress to the bottom bunk, Nathan walked to her. "To tell you the truth, I'm still a little stunned by... this..." He placed his hand gently on Elizabeth's stomach. "Very happy. But stunned."

She smiled at him and reached her hand up to his cheek. "Oh, sweet Nathan. You're going to be such a good father. I see it every day with Allie."

Nathan pulled her close to him and held her for a moment. "It's still pretty mysterious. How does what's happening... in here... become a person...?"

Elizabeth laughed. "There are some books I can show you in the Library," she said, smiling and looking very much the teacher.

Nathan raised an eyebrow as his crooked smile started. "I think I have a handle on the basics," he said, leaning down to kiss her. Elizabeth closed her eyes with a soft sigh, overwhelmed by happiness. "I love you so much," she whispered against his lips.

"That's good, because I'm about to take you home with me," he said, nuzzling into the warmth of her neck.

Pulling away, Elizabeth gave him a slightly worried look. "Your mother has had the house to herself with Allie for a month. You know what they say about two women in a kitchen," she said, raising her eyebrows.

Nathan frowned. "What do they say?"

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. "Power struggle," she said simply.

Now Nathan looked a little more worried. "Over what? Where the wooden spoons go?"

"Yes. And if pots and pans should be dried right away or left in the rack. And if the butter goes on the table or in the icebox. And..."

Nathan put his fingers on her lips. "I get the picture. So, you're going to be the woman of the house, and Mom is going to need to change her ways?" He exhaled and turned to finish packing, laughing softly. "The words 'Mom' and 'change her ways' don't often get said in the same sentence."

Elizabeth laughed and went back to her own suitcase. "I'm teasing you. I love Rebecca. And she's been so wonderful caring for Allie for the last month. She can have the kitchen."

Nathan turned, "Really?"

"For now," Elizabeth said. "I've been sharing a kitchen with Abigail since I first arrived. I think I can manage."

Raising his eyebrow, Nathan mumbled as he folded a shirt. "You had your own kitchen for a night, as I recall..."

"What was that?" Elizabeth said, turning sharply and giving him a warning look. She walked over to him and peered around his shoulder. "Was that another reference to me burning down an entire building by lighting the stove in the kitchen?"

Nathan was glad to see that she was smiling. He felt that pregnant Elizabeth was going to be a challenge if she continued moving through emotions at lightning speed the way she had been lately.

She raised an eyebrow. "Smother, don't douse," she said firmly. "I don't plan on burning anything else down."

"I don't think you planned to burn the first one down..." Nathan said, and seeing the look in his wife's eye, he realized he might have gone one joke too far. He put his arms around her, afraid that he'd made her cry, until he realized that she was laughing.

"Now that you've met my mother," Elizabeth said, pulling away and looking up at him. "You can appreciate that she taught the three of us girls how to make a grand entrance so that we would be remembered. I would say I made quite a grand entrance into Hope Valley."

Nathan thought it was safe to laugh with her. "You did that." He kissed her again lightly and said. "Grace would be proud."

Rosemary had never been inside Lee's house, much less seen his bedroom. Now here she was in the early hours of the morning, standing in the corner of the room and watching as Martin Sommersby finished taking Lee's pulse and gently placed his bare arm back under the quilt. She was waiting breathlessly to hear what the doctor had to say.

Lee seemed to have passed through the chills and fever while he rode in the back of the wagon. Now he was pale and still as the cough syrup took effect, and his breathing wasn't as labored as it had been. He looked almost peaceful but his stillness unnerved Rosemary. She had never seen Lee like this, his smile gone, his eyes closed.

Martin turned to her. "You did very well, Rosemary. He's in the best condition we could hope for, considering the day you had."

Rosemary released a breath in relief, but Martin walked to her and took her hand. "But you need to know, he's not out of the woods yet. This is bacterial pneumonia, streptococcus. It's an acute infection of his lungs," he added, seeing Rosemary's blank stare.

"Will he..." She couldn't continue, her own throat constricting in fear.

Martin patted her hand. "We won't know for a couple of days, I'm afraid. And even then, it can take weeks before he'll be up and able to care for himself. Are you willing...?"

"Yes," Rosemary said quickly, "Whatever you need. Whatever Lee needs..." she said, looking around the doctor at Lee in the bed.

Mike Hickam was still standing in the doorway. He was so used to Lee giving him direction that he was having trouble knowing what to do.

Martin turned to him. "Mike, can you find some bottles in the kitchen and fill them with water? We'll need to keep him hydrated." Hickam was so grateful for something to do that he turned and was gone in an instant.

Looking back at Rosemary, Martin said quietly, "I understand you may be expecting?" he asked her. "You'll need to take care of yourself..."

Rosemary stopped him. "No. I was mistaken." She smiled sadly at him. "False alarm."

Martin frowned. "I'm very sorry. Well, in any case, remember that you need sleep too. Is there anyone else who can help you take care of him? I'll come visit every day, and if you need me I'm just down the road, but he won't be able to do for himself for quite some time."

Rosemary nodded. "I understand. And he won't need anyone else. I'm not leaving this room until he's well."

Martin was silent for a moment, taking in the situation. "I'll ask Abigail to bring you some food and look in on you." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Every time you give Lee some water, you drink some yourself. If you get sick you won't be able to take care of him. Remember that."

"I will. Thank you."

Hickam came back in with his arms full of four bottles filled with water. He placed them on the table and Martin turned to him. "One last favor, Mike. Can you help me bring the rollaway bed from the Infirmary?" Hickam looked up sharply, and then over at Rosemary. His eyes went soft and he smiled at her.

"Sure thing," he said, knowing that Lee would be in good hands.

"We'll be right back," Martin said.

Rosemary watched them go and then sat down next to Lee. Rest and plenty of water. And time. She poured a measure of water from the bottle into the cup and moved closer. Holding the cup to his lips, Rosemary put her arm under his neck and lifted him gently. "Just a small sip," she said softly, her voice tender. Lee's involuntary response allowed him to swallow a little, and as usual, the rest dripped down his chin. Rosemary reached over for the towel on the side table and carefully wiped the water away.

So pale. So still. She ran her finger across his lips lightly. No longer with the blue tinge from earlier in the day, which meant he was getting the oxygen he needed. And his cough had stopped, finally overtaken by the morphine in the cough syrup.

She couldn't help herself. All the terror and worry of the day enveloped her, and she needed comfort. She leaned down and touched her lips lightly to his. They were no longer burning but were now soft and cool, and for just a moment, Rosemary remembered...

"Stop that."

Rosemary turned to see Charlotte, dark and imposing, in the doorway. Jumping back quickly, Rosemary found herself facing a look blacker than any she'd seen in a long time, and that included some of the great actors she'd worked with.

"Charlotte," she said, her voice sounding tiny and thin.

Narrowing her eyes, Charlotte said, "Come with me."

Rosemary looked back at Lee, her eyes stricken. "I need to..."

"He won't die in the next ten minutes," Charlotte said harshly. To Rosemary's horrified look, she added, more softly, "I just saw the doc. He needs rest and care, but you can step out to the living room with me for a short chat."

Nodding, Rosemary stood. She tried in vain to smooth her clothes and realized that she had put this dress on yesterday morning, and she was filthy and wrinkled from the long day on the road. She followed Charlotte out through the hall and into Lee's living room. For the first time, she saw the room clearly, with its deep wood and leather, warm plaid throws of dark greens and browns. It was a living room she could happily settle into and read a book.

Or take a nap. Until this moment, Rosemary hadn't allowed herself to think about how very tired she was. Exhausted, really. And now, facing the daunting prospect of Charlotte and the conversation they were surely about to have, Rosemary sat clumsily into what looked like Lee's favorite chair. Her mother-in-law chose to remain standing.

"Charlotte," Rosemary started wearily. "I'm so tired. I'm not sure I can do this right now."

"Fine," Charlotte said crisply. "I'll take you home then, and we can talk when you're rested." She put out her hand, meaning to take Rosemary by the arm.

Rosemary took a deep breath and set her jaw. "I'm staying here until Lee is better," she said, as firmly as her limited energy would allow.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes slightly. "I'm sure there are others who can..."

"No," Rosemary said, more forcefully. "No others. Me. I'm going to care for him."

"And is that what you were doing in there? And in the wagon? Caring for him?" Charlotte said, a slight nastiness creeping into her voice. She put her hands on her hips. "How long has my boy been in the ground, Rosie? A little more than a month? And here you are..." Charlotte stopped, realizing that very soon she would lose complete control of her temper. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"What you do with your life is up to you. But what you do with my grandson is another thing entirely. I have a say in that." Charlotte stood while Rosemary simply looked at her with eyes filling with tears. Finally, with great effort, Rosemary stood.

"Charlotte, I'm so sorry. I should have kept it to myself until I was more sure, but..." She took a deep breath. "It turns out I'm not pregnant."

Charlotte looked like she had taken a blow to the stomach. She heard the truth in what Rosemary was saying and it was like she'd lost Jack all over again. "You're not...?" she started to say, and then stopped herself. Rosemary saw Charlotte's chest rising and falling quickly and she was backing away when Mike and Martin came through the front door with the bed.

"You want to sleep in Lee's room with him, or in the hallway, Rosemary?" Martin asked, catching his breath.

Charlotte turned to steel and her voice matched her stance. "Oh, by all means, in the room with Lee, gentlemen." She turned to Rosemary. "Elizabeth will be back in a few hours. I'll be on a train home today." She put her hat on her head firmly and said. "I'm sure we'll see each other again. Considering you had my son buried here."

With that, she moved past an open-mouthed Hickam and went through the door.

Rosemary watched her go wearily, but as the door slammed behind her, she felt a sense of relief. That's done. Not done very well, but done.

"In the bedroom, please," she said to Martin. "As close to Lee as possible."