1 February

Eloise woke from a dreamless sleep, her vision blurred, her brain foggy. As her eyes adjusted to the room around her, her gaze fell upon her husband standing near the window, fully dressed and clipping on his gun belt.

"Hank?"

His head snapped up and he crossed the room towards her. "Hey, how ya feelin'?"

"I…I'm not sure." She pushed herself up in the bed. "What time is it?"

"Early," he replied, sitting down on the edge. "Was just gonna let ya sleep fer a while whilst I sort out the whisky, then go to Grace's and git ya some breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"Need to eat somethin'," he reached out and pushed her hair behind her ear before stroking her cheek gently. "Lookin' awfully pale."

"I don't remember much after you came to bed."

"Ya were dead to the world within minutes. Were so still that I had to check a coupla times that ya were breathin'."

"I thought I might not sleep at all."

"Must've bin needin' it after what happened."

A shiver ran through her and she pulled the blankets tighter around herself. She could still hear his voice in her head, feel the pressure of his gun against her stomach. What if Hank hadn't been there? What if she had been alone like the last time? Would…could…the outcome have been different? Perhaps he might have returned home to find her lying in a pool of blood…

"Ellie."

Hank's voice brought her back into the moment and she met his gaze again. "Sorry, what?"

"Was just askin' if ya wanted me to git ya anythin' right now 'fore breakfast."

"No," she shook her head, "and I said I wasn't hungry."

"Maybes not, but gotta remember yer eatin' fer two now," he placed his hand over her stomach, smiling at the movement underneath her skin. "Reckon she's hungry, even if ya ain't."

"She?"

"Sure. Kinda got it into my head last night when I was watchin' ya sleep that it's a girl. Don't ask me why, just had a feelin'."

Forcing herself to think about something other than what had happened, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Have you been thinking about any names?"

"Maybe."

"Are there any nice Norwegian names we could use?"

He shook his head, "Ain't gonna saddle her with somethin' like that when I've spent the last twenty years runnin' from my birth name. Figured you might wanna name her after yer side of the family."

"I'm not sure my mother would thank us for naming her Flora given that she's never particularly liked her name and there aren't any other pretty ones that I can think of…"

"Yers is pretty."

"I think it could end up being confusing having two Eloise's," she smiled.

"What about yer Pa?"

"Alexander? For a girl?"

"No…was thinkin' Alexandra. Works for Michaela, after all bein' the female version of Michaela and Myra's Samantha bein' the female version of Sam."

"Alexandra…" she rolled the name around. "I like that. But, what if it's a boy?"

"No contest," he grinned. "Hank Junior."

"Two Hank's would definitely be confusing and I'm not sure anyone, even our child, could wear the name the way you do."

"Don't matter, cause it's gonna be a girl, I can tell."

She watched him, his eyes on her stomach, his hand moving slowly over it, the smile still on his lips as he clearly thought about his child. His Alexandra…or Hank. "Have you ever thought what sort of a father you'd be to a girl?"

"Not so much. Guess it'll be different to bein' a father to a boy."

"In what way?"

"Well, boys are all 'bout rough and tumble, stickin' up fer themselves and learnin' how to be a man. Not that I did any of that for Zack." He paused for a moment. "Girls…well they need protectin'."

"Not all girls, surely. There's plenty of women out there able to look after themselves."

"Including yerself?" he raised his gaze to meet hers.

"Well…I don't know about that. I got myself here but, ever since, I've needed you. Can't imagine for a moment that's ever going to change."

"Tell ya one thing she ain't gonna do and that's whore. Ain't havin' no daughter of mine lift her skirts for the kinda men that come in here."

Dorothy's words on the subject of prostitution suddenly came flooding back to her, the moment presented so perfectly. "Well…"

"Well what?"

"Maybe if it isn't something our daughter should be doing then it isn't something that anyone's daughter ought to be doing."

"How do ya mean?"

"Well…" she struggled to find the right words. "Maybe, we don't need the girls. Maybe…maybe it's time to…stop that side of business."

He looked at her for a long moment and she found herself holding her breath, wondering if he would have a sudden revelatory thought on the subject.

"Should git some more rest," he said finally, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. "Then I'll git ya that breakfast."

Moments later, he was gone, and she slid back down under the warm blankets, foiled for that moment, but determined that the conversation wasn't over. Sleep must have overtaken her again as when she next opened her eyes, she saw Michaela standing at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, Michaela…" she exclaimed, pulling herself up again. "I'm sorry, I must have…"

"Don't apologise," the other woman smiled. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm fine," she replied, as Michaela perched herself on the edge of the bed, "I slept well, better than I thought I would under the circumstances. I thought I might have nightmares but…"

"The stress of what happened likely exhausted you. You might find that it affects you more over the coming days and weeks."

"If let myself think about it, about what might have happened…" She shivered again. "But I've only got another three weeks until this one makes his or her appearance and I don't have time to be worrying about a robbery. I've got three hats sitting on my workbench still to finish."

"Well, you must be careful not to work too hard, especially at this stage."

"I find it therapeutic. I can just shut the door and lose myself in the fabric." She paused. "Hopefully what happened won't affect my concentration."

Michaela paused, "How's Hank?"

"Fine, though I think he feels guilty that he wasn't able to do more. He believes that he should have been able to stop the man, even though there's nothing he could have done. It all happened so quickly."

"I suppose it's only natural that he feels that way. He is your husband, after all, and the father of this little one." Michaela smiled. "Now, let me examine you again and then you can spend the day resting."

"He suggested that I move to the clinic until our house is ready, or even go back to my parents," Eloise said, shifting down in the bed and pulling up her nightgown.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't recommend making a long and arduous trip to San Francisco at this late stage, but you're more than welcome to stay at the clinic if you'd feel more comfortable."

"But that's just it, I wouldn't. I want to be with Hank, especially at this late stage."

"I can understand that." Michaela paused. "No sign of bleeding and your membranes are still intact. Have you been experiencing normal movement?" Eloise nodded. "Then it looks as though everything is fine and as expected."

"Thank you."

"Not at all." Michaela sat back. "This is a vulnerable time for you, even without what you experienced last night. You and Hank should remain close. Your lives are about to change forever."

"I know…" she plucked at the blanket. "Even before last night, the prospect of what's about to happen still frightens me. I'm happy at becoming a mother, I really am, but…well…it's a bit overwhelming when I think about it."

"That's only natural. You'll be responsible for a whole new life. You'll have to guide them, teach them, care for them…but I know you'll both do a fine job. And Hank has trodden this path before."

"Yes, but he doesn't think that he did a very good job with Zack. I know he wants it to be different this time." She paused, smiling at the thought of his earlier words. "He's convinced it's going to be a girl."

"What do you think?"

"I just want the baby to be healthy and happy, whether it's a girl or a boy."

"And it will be," Michaela smiled again. "Of that I have no doubt."

XXXX

"How is she?"

"Says she's fine."

"You don't believe her?"

Hank dropped his fork onto his plate and sat forwards, putting his head in his hands. "Don't know what to believe. She fell right to sleep after Michaela left and I lay awake most of the night watchin' her, thinkin' 'bout what could have happened to her and the baby."

"Wasn't your fault the saloon got robbed."

"Was my fault that she was there though."

"How do you figure?"

"If the house was ready…"

"Again, not your fault."

He signed heavily, aware that Jake was only trying to make him feel better, but desperate almost for someone to at least agree with how he was feeling. "Ain't no place fer her, never has bin. Should've…should've had somewhere proper fer her before she got pregnant, then this would never have happened."

"Ain't no rhyme or reason to pregnancy," Jake said, as though an expert on the subject. "Besides, you can't blame yourself for what another man chooses to do, Hank. Robbery could have happened any time, any place."

"She's my wife, Jake, and she's carryin' my kid. I'm responsible for what happens to both of 'em. Took a vow to protect her and I ain't measurin' up there so far." Picking up his fork again, he pushed the remnants of his breakfast around his plate. "Sometimes…can't help but think…"

"Think what?"

"That she might have been better off…"

"Don't say it," Jake interrupted him sharply. "Now she loves you and she wanted to stay here with you when she could have gone back to her old life in San Francisco. She knew the kind of town this is, and she knew what sort of a place the saloon is. Hell, it got robbed before, remember? When we were out looking for that woman and she was by herself."

"Yeah, and some man put a gun to her head that night too. That don't exactly make me feel better."

"Maybe not, but even having had that experience, she still wanted to stay. There's gotta be something to say for that. Eloise is a strong woman. Alright so she had a scare last night, but she's going to get over it and you will too."

"Yeah…" he mused, albeit unconvinced. It was going to take a lot to get over the events of the previous night. Part of him wondered if he ever would.

"Here Hank, I've got your food ready," Grace broke into his thoughts as she approached the table, laden down with a breakfast tray. "You tell Eloise I hope that she's alright."

"I appreciate that, Grace, thank you," he replied, rising and taking the tray from her. "I'll be sure and tell her."

"I don't know what goes on in a man's mind sometimes. Imagine thinking it acceptable pulling a gun on a pregnant woman." Grace shook her head. "I hope someone catches up with him at some point and gives him a taste of his own medicine."

He paused then nodded, thinking again on how he still felt as though he should have pursued the robber, would have, had there not been others to consider.

Back at the saloon, he found the bed empty, panic shooting through him as he raced from room to room calling out her name only to find her in the garden, hunched over the soil, pulling weeds.

"What the hell do ya think yer doin'?!" he demanded, causing her to start and turn to look at him. "Yer supposed to be in bed!"

"I'm fine," she replied, slowly straightening up. "Michaela came and checked me over and said everything was normal."

"That don't mean that ya oughta be out here in the cold!"

"I can't lie in bed all day."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I'll just drive myself mad," she stepped over to him. "If I don't have anything to think about then I think about what happened last night and, more so, what could have happened and, well, that's a place in my mind that I'd rather not be. It's better if I keep myself occupied. So, I thought I would come out here and check the plants and then maybe go over to the workshop and…"

"No."

She paused and stared at him. "No?"

"Ain't goin' anywhere."

"I've got three hats just sitting there waiting to be finished before the baby comes."

"Fine, I'll bring them over to ya and ya can finish them in bed."

"I can't."

"Ellie…"

"I can't work effectively from bed. I need to be sat at table, with good light and…"

"Fine, ya can work in the saloon."

"I can't…"

"Ain't lettin' ya outta my sight, alright?! Ain't riskin'…ain't riskin' anythin' happenin' to ya. Would've never have left ya to go to Grace's if I'd figured ya wouldn't stay where ya were!" He paused on her look. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

"I understand," she said softly.

"Do ya?"

"Yes. But I can't stay cooped up in bed for the next three weeks, Hank. Before what happened last night you had no issue with me going about my usual business. Besides, it's not as if that gentleman's going to be hiding around a corner waiting for me, is it?"

"No, but…"

"But what?"

He looked down into her face, feeling so many emotions course through him. Things he'd never thought he'd ever feel, never imagined he'd get the opportunity to feel. "Just want ya to be safe, that's all, both of ya."

"And we are, and we will be," she slid her arms around him, her stomach pressing against his. "Please."

"Like I can ever refuse ya when ya look at me like that," he murmured, kissing her gently.

"Exactly," she smiled, pulling back. "Now, you may escort me over to the workshop if you like. Alexandra…or Hank Junior…and I have work to do."