I awoke early the next morning to brilliant sunshine and birdsong, feeling more refreshed than I had in weeks. Then I recalled my nightmare and being comforted by Cam in the middle of the night. I looked around, but there was no sign of him.

I got up and pulled on some work clothes, then went out to the kitchen. After I started some coffee brewing, I went out to see to my animals. When I returned, Cam was up and dressed and pouring a cup of coffee. When I walked into the kitchen, he looked over at me, and I saw that he looked exhausted and bleary-eyed. I wondered how long he'd sat up with me, and I felt guilty for disturbing his rest.

"I'm sorry about last night," I said, walking over and getting a mug from the cupboard. "I hope you managed to get some sleep anyway?"

"Yeah... a little. I'll be all right after I've had some coffee," he yawned, as he set the carafe back and shuffled towards the dining table. He sat down and sipped the scalding beverage, grimacing at the taste—he'd never been much of a coffee drinker, usually preferring tea instead. I offered to make him some, but he declined, saying he needed the extra caffeine.

He had the day off, so he spent it cleaning house and doing laundry while I ran my usual errands and looked in on my farm in Konohana. Afterwards, I sat and started to look through the stack of catalogs Eileen had loaned to me. I set them aside when it was time to make dinner, picking them up again after the meal while Cam washed up, but by bedtime, I hadn't found anything that I definitely liked. With a sigh, I dropped the stack on my coffee table. Cam looked over at me, and I shrugged. "I just can't tell if I like any of these. I mean, a picture can only tell you so much. I have to be able to see the furniture to decide if it's good quality or not. The catalogs only show how pretty the furniture is, nothing more."

We decided to go to the city on Cam's next day off, which wouldn't be until next Thursday. I chafed at the delay, as I seemed to get more and more easily fatigued with every passing day. But it couldn't be helped—I wasn't about to ask him to miss yet another day of work just to take me shopping. At least I'd have time to make arrangements with someone to take us to and from the train station and maybe even take care of my animals just for that morning, so we could get an earlier start.

Grady was one of only two people on the entire mountain who actually kept a truck, the other being Dr. Ayame, though she kept hers strictly for emergencies in the countryside surrounding the mountain. Since I wasn't keen on the idea of bouncing and jostling around in a horse cart, I approached Grady about possibly driving us to the station. It turned out that he, too, had some business to take care of in the city. Since his shop was closed Thursday, he said that would be a good day for him to go, and that he'd be happy to drive us all the way there—and back again, too, if we finished up in time. If not, he'd still be willing to pick us up at the station whenever we returned. I gratefully accepted, and went to talk to Jessica about my animals.

She thought for a moment, drumming her fingers on the counter. "Well, normally it wouldn't be any difficulty at all, of course. But right now I have six cows all ready to give birth any day. Still, I think Ash should be able to handle things long enough for Cheryl and me to slip away to take care of your animals. Yes, I believe we can manage that. While you're in town, though, I wonder if you'd be so kind as to run a little errand for me?"

"Of course, what can I do?" I asked, and she bustled back to her bedroom. She returned a few minutes later with a bundle of cloth in her hands.

"You see," she explained, spreading out a little dress in a faded sky blue print, "this was Cheryl's favorite dress for a long, long time. She finally had to give up wearing it, because it just got too small for her—not to mention pretty worn out. I'd like to make her a new dress, but I haven't been able to lay my hands on a good match for the fabric. I've only had time to look in Rosedale, though, and the fabric store there doesn't have much selection. Would you be a dear and pop into the store there in Riverside and see if you can find something close? I know you won't be able to find the exact print—I made this a few years back. But something close in pattern and color would be just lovely. I'll need thread to match, too, but I have or can get the rest of the notions myself. Thank you, Alice, I really appreciate it!" As she spoke, she pulled out a pair of shears from the basket on her counter, snipped a small square of cloth out of the skirt, and handed it to me. I tucked it into my pocket and headed for home to get dinner started.

Thursday morning, we had to get up much earlier than usual. Grady arrived just before 6:00, and we hurried out the door, still pulling on our jackets. The nearest city to us was Riverside, a little over sixty miles away—much too far to walk or ride. Though not a large city, it was still much larger than Rosedale, which had no furniture stores, unless you counted the antique stores that lined the street across from the pretty little park in the center of town.

On the drive there, Grady explained he wanted to stock up on grain and supplies for his horses and his business, and also to investigate a livestock auction that was to take place in the late morning to the early afternoon. He said he expected to be ready to leave by two or so in the afternoon, and if we were ready by then, we could ride back with him. I wasn't sure that was likely, but thanked him for the offer.

It was a long drive, close to two hours altogether, and the two men chatted about the town, their shops, horses, and other subjects of mutual interest. Meanwhile, I drew up a list of what I needed to buy, what I wanted to buy, and how much I was willing to spend. By the time we arrived, I had a pretty good idea of what I was looking for, my priorities, and my budget.

Grady dropped us off outside the largest of the three furniture stores in the shopping district, saying before he drove away that he'd be at the feed store for probably an hour, and then after that, we could find him at the auction house on the edge of town. I thanked him and gave him some gas money before heading into the store.

Cam followed as I wandered through the displays, examining the styles and construction and noted the prices. Fortunately, the three stores were all fairly close together—all within a block—so it was easy to compare prices and quality.

Finally, I chose the items to purchase, selecting a suite of furniture for the baby's room that included a twin bed, a dresser, a bedside table, and a small desk and chair, as well as a crib to put in my room. I also purchased new furniture for my living room, including a sofa and loveseat set, a coffee table with a matching pair of end tables, and two bookcases, and I also picked out a rocking chair and mattresses for both the bed and the crib—all to be delivered next Wednesday. I had considered replacing my dining table and chairs and my bedroom furniture, too, as they had belonged to my grandparents, and some of it even to their parents, and everything was fairly battered with age and use. However, I decided that I'd spent enough on furniture for the time being. The rest could wait.

After the furniture shopping, we stopped for lunch at a small coffee shop. It seemed like a nice place, and I dropped with a sigh into a chair at a table, glad to get off my aching feet while Cam went up to the counter to order our lunches. On his way back, I was surprised to see a strange girl approach him with an eager look on her face. She seemed vaguely familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn't place her. I heard her call out his name, and she followed him back as he returned to the table. When I saw the anxious, hunted look on his face, it dawned on me who she must be, and I turned to her with a curious look.

She was a little on the short side of average, I guessed, though her platform shoes made it difficult to say. She was rather skinny, except for her extraordinarily well-endowed cleavage. Her hair was bleached blonde, her eyes were a brilliant blue, and she was heavily made up. Dressed in a short, tight, cobalt blue dress with a full-length zipper down the front, those insanely high stiletto heels, and flashy dangling earrings, she looked like she was set for a night out clubbing rather than lunch in a quiet café.

It appeared she was pleading her case to him yet again as they walked, despite his determined indifference. He sat down across from me, giving me an appalled, apologetic look as she followed behind him to our table, simpering and prattling inanely. Then she suddenly noticed me and stopped, mid-sentence, to stare first at me, then at Cam, her crimson mouth hanging open. "And who is this?" she demanded in a shrill voice. "You won't go out with me, but you'll go out with this... this hag? What is wrong with you, anyway?" Then, putting on a sultry expression, she unzipped the top of her zipper another inch or two to display still more of her cleavage, twined a strand of his hair around her finger and purred, "Why would you even want to be with an ugly old bitch like her, when you could have me?"

Cam looked seriously pissed off by this time, and knocking her hand away, he rose and turned angrily to her, saying, "When I could have you? Yeah, sure, me and every other guy in the state! For the last time, Candi, get lost! I'm not even remotely interested in you, and I never will be. And don't you dare speak so much as a word about her—she's so much better than you, you aren't even worthy to breathe the same air."

Turning first scarlet, then purple, she snapped, "And just who is this oh-so-perfect goddess of yours, anyway? Your sister?"

"She's my wife," Cam replied, folding his arms over his chest. I looked at him in surprise, raising an eyebrow at his declaration.

She just stared at him, slack-jawed, then after a minute she began to laugh. "Oh, that's just fucking hilarious. Here you're insulting me, telling me I'm so trashy, but who's the one who cheated on his wife with the little slut, huh? You're just a manslut—you're no better than me!"

"I never said I was," he said, coldly. "I only said that she is better than you—which, if anything, is an understatement of epic proportions. Now get the hell out of my sight, before I really get mad."

She glared at him for a long moment, then turned and flounced out the door, screaming over her shoulder as she left, "You're not worth it, Cameron Blake! I bet you don't even like girls!"

Ignoring all the startled, curious looks that were suddenly turned our way, Cam put his head in his hands. "Alice, I am so very sorry about that. I really thought I'd gotten through to her last time. Hopefully she's got the idea now."

I leaned back and looked at him. "Yes, but what idea does she have? I mean, true, we're technically still married... but I kind of feel like you used me as a shield to chase her off. And I really don't appreciate it, Cam. You got yourself into this situation, you know, and I don't care to be dragged into the middle of it. I have enough to worry about as it is."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then paused and closed it again. Hanging his head, he said, "Yeah... you're right. I did, and it wasn't fair to you. I apologize. But... I really didn't intend to misrepresent you. I mean, I know we're separated, but... I just can't stop thinking of you as my wife."

He looked so abashed and sincere, I felt my irritation melting away. I sighed, and said, "All right. But the next time you need help fending off a scorned lover, please don't come running to me for help. Okay?"

He looked me in the eyes, saying in his quiet way, "There won't be a next time, Alice. She was a terrible mistake that won't be repeated. You're the only lover I want."

Before I could respond to that, our lunch arrived. But even though our conversation strayed to other subjects and we never did return to that particular topic... I didn't forget what he said, either.

After lunch, we continued shopping. At a housewares store, I picked out bedding for both the twin bed and the crib, and picked up some more bath linens. Next we went to a children's clothing store, where I picked out some baby clothes and other necessities. Finally, we looked for Jessica's fabric, searching through bolts of cotton prints until finally we found one that was nearly a perfect match.

Cam gamely carried armloads of bags for me as I shopped, offered opinions when I asked—which admittedly wasn't very often, since I had very clear ideas of what I wanted—and generally kept his eye on me, suggesting a break anytime he thought I was looking too tired.

As I'd expected, Grady was gone by the time I was through shopping, so Cam flagged down a taxi for the return trip. Although trucks could, with care, maneuver the bumpy dirt roads clear into town, cars simply could not—not without scraping bottom frequently, that is. The nearest they could safely approach was about a mile and a half downhill from the Bluebell town gate, so that was where the driver dropped us off. He was a nice, older man who seemed genuinely concerned about leaving a pregnant woman to walk the rest of the way up the mountainside to town. But I just laughed and assured him that I was used to walking all over creation, even in my current condition, and left him a generous tip for his kind concern.

Cam carried most of my bags for me, grudgingly allowing me to carry only the few lightest. We walked home to my farm, arriving there about forty minutes later—not too bad, given my condition and the rough path. Nevertheless, my feet and ankles were aching and swollen by the time we reached my house. Once inside, I immediately kicked my shoes off, and Cam was startled by how much my feet had puffed up. Even after I assured him it was pretty normal for how far along I was, he still insisted that I go lie down right away and leave dinner to him. He completely overrode my protests, practically pushing me into my bedroom and onto my bed. Eventually I gave up, seeing that he wasn't going to back down this time. "I'm supposed to be here to help you and to care for you when you need it, remember? So let me, already!" he scolded as he closed the door to my bedroom on his way out.

I sighed as I stretched out on top of the quilt, though I had to admit that I was pretty tired and achy. And also... it was kind of nice to have someone insist on taking care of me, for a change. The last thought that crossed my mind as I drifted off in a doze was that so far it wasn't really so bad at all to have Cam there—especially now he was being so much nicer, like he was before.

I woke some time later to the sound of my door opening. Cam poked his head in, asking, "Are you awake now? Do you feel like eating?"

I sat up and stretched. "Yeah, I'm starving! How long was I asleep, anyway?"

"Not all that long—maybe an hour and a half. I finished cooking a little while ago, but you were sleeping so soundly, I put it on the back burner and got to work. I just finished cleaning the bathroom, and thought I'd see if you were awake and ready to eat before tackling anything else."

"Thanks, Cam. I am definitely ready to eat." I struggled to get up—something that seemed to get more difficult each day—and he hurried over to lend a hand, pulling me to my feet. As I walked towards the dining room, I commented, "It smells really good! What did you make?"

"Nothing fancy, just a curry. I hope that's okay? I tried not to make it too spicy, since I thought I remembered hearing that pregnant woman can't eat spicy food."

I smiled as I sat down. "That's perfect—I love curry, as you know. So far I don't seem to be troubled with indigestion like a lot of women are, but mild is fine anyway." He looked relieved and hurried off to dish up our meal.

Over the next couple of days, we established a workday routine, almost the same as we had before our separation. I'd rise early, as usual, and make breakfast first thing. After breakfast, Cam would tackle some cleaning or laundry before heading to his shop to set up for the day. In the meantime, I'd take care of my animals, then I'd make lunch and take it to him before making my rounds, visiting the villagers in Bluebell and checking the message board.

After lunch, I'd walk over to Konohana to tend my fields and orchards and make my rounds there. Then I'd return home and put my feet up for a little while—reading or knitting or doing the mending—before starting dinner. After dinner, Cam would again tackle some cleaning, or bring in the laundry to fold. Then we'd relax for a little while before heading off to bed.

Sunday night, as we sat reading in the living room, I made some remark about him being gone the next day—as he normally was away all day on Mondays, visiting his parents' graves—and he looked up at me in surprise. "I'm not going," he said without looking up from his book.

"You... you aren't?"

"No, of course not. How can I help you if I'm gone all day? So for now, at least, I'm not going to go. I went last week, just one last time to kind of say goodbye, I guess. I'm sure my parents would understand. I know if they were alive, they'd be furious if I left you alone all day and something happened. And besides, I've been thinking... maybe it's time I finally let go. I think if I visit them a few times a year instead of weekly, that will be enough to honor their memory."

I just stared at him—I was so accustomed to him being gone every Monday, with only a few exceptions, that it had never occurred to me that he'd ever give up that tradition. Still, nice as it would be to have him around in case of an emergency... there was a potential problem with his plan.

"You know... Mikhail should be returning tomorrow. So I don't know if you want to change your mind or not... I know you aren't exactly eager to see him."

He flushed and looked away. "Do... do you want me to make myself scarce, then? So you and he...." He stopped, unable or unwilling to complete his sentence.

I shrugged. "It's your call, Cam. I seriously doubt anything's going to happen, anyway. Like I said before, that one night was the only time we've... been together. And I don't see a repeat of that night happening anytime soon... if ever, to be honest. He's always had so much talent, you know. And over the past few years, he's developed a solid reputation on a national level, and even a little international fame. Just a teensy bit, though, until now. I think his career is really, truly, finally taking off. And that... that just might mean that it's over between us, before we even really got started. I just don't know. I do know that lately he's been very busy and... well, preoccupied on the rare occasions that I get to see him for a little while."

Cam was silent for several minutes. Then he tentatively put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a gentle squeeze. "I... I'm sorry, Alice. As painful as it is to see you with him and to hear you talk about him... I know he's been able to make you happy—something I really failed at. I wish...." He trailed off into silence and looked away.

"What? What do you wish?" I said after a moment, looking at him in puzzlement.

He hesitated, then looked at me and gave me a half smile. "I wish that you were happy—no matter with whom. That's all. Just... just wishing for you to be as happy as you deserve to be."

As I reached over up gave his hand a squeeze, I was suddenly reminded of our unfinished conversation from our last session. "Speaking of wishes, what was it you were wishing at the doctor's office? You said you'd tell me later, but you never did."

He turned bright red and looked at the floor. "Oh. That. I did say I would tell you, didn't I? Well...." He looked at me with grief-stricken eyes, saying, "I... I was wishing that... that I hadn't been so incredibly stupid, that I could just take back all the terrible things I've said and done... and that... I could have some part in our—I mean, in your—baby's life. Being there with you during your exam, I could almost pretend for one absolutely perfect moment that everything was okay, that you still loved me, and that we'd always be there for each other, raising our child side by side, growing old together. Just like I'd always hoped and dreamed... before I ruined everything."

I reached up and squeezed his hand again as I stared off into space. "You know, despite what I said when I was so angry and upset... you are her father. Nothing can take that from you. You could choose not to acknowledge her or to have a role in her life, but you'd still be her father. If you... if you really do want to be involved in her life, I won't keep her from you."

He didn't respond, and after a moment, I turned and looked up at him. To my surprise, there were tears in his eyes. He hastily wiped his eyes and gave me a tremulous smile. "Thank you, Alice," he said. "That... I can't tell you how much that means to me."

I smiled reassuringly at him and squeezed his hand once again. "You don't need to," I replied. "I already know."