Two days after Carla had left Wesley in his care, the ever-present fever became worse, and John lost hope he'd be able to care for the child. Death was now something he feared. The last thing he wanted for his son was to be abandoned and alone in a strange town with no one to care for him.

John shook so hard his teeth chattered, yet he managed to guide the horse down the winding road on Hawkins lands to the main house. Lord, don't let her be gone, not yet. He repeated the prayer he'd been chanting in his mind over and over again. Mae had told him she didn't plan to stay long, yet he hoped she'd decided to remain for while longer. Surely she'd not left so soon, needing time to recover from the travel here.

Wesley sat next to him, silent, holding his precious bundle. His eyes shifted up to John's face every few minutes as if to assure he'd not passed out. He had wondered about it himself several times during the six hours it took to get there. Although the boy was no more than three, he had a mature calmness about him. John took strength from it, and it steadied him.

The large ranch house finally came into view, and John breathed a sigh of relief. "See the house Wes? We're going there."

"House," Wesley repeated his eyes wide. "Big."

"Yes, it's very big," John replied and repeated the prayer. Mae had to be there. Otherwise, his options were to find a place to live with Wesley and somehow hire someone to help care for him while he recovered, if it was even meant to happen. He wasn't sure he could do it, not with the way the raging fevers and pain continued to assault.

The door opened and the short Hispanic woman he'd met last time came outside just as he pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the large ranch home. Her eyes went from him to Wesley and back. "I remember you.You are Senorita Mae's friend. Come inside." She rounded the cart to Wesley's side and held her hands up to the boy. "Well hello boy, come here let me help you down." John watched as his son held his arms out seeming to accept the woman as a friend.

The woman met his gaze over the child's head, concern evident at seeing the sheen of perspiration on his face. "Come inside Senor, I have some fresh lemonade."

John's mouth watered at the thought and he climbed down not able to suppress the groan at the piercing pain. With each step, he wanted to crumble to the floor. "Thank you Ma'am. Is Mae here?"

The woman nodded, and relief flooded him so hard his legs almost buckled. "Si, she is here. My name is Elma," she told Wesley who regarded her with interest. "Come. Inside. Once I serve you a cold drink, I will let senorita Mae know you are here." The woman made her way inside with Wesley in her arms as John followed barely able to keep his balance.

The boy watched him over Elma's shoulder, and without blinking he tracked John's movements. A pang of guilt built in John’s chest at how unsteady his son's life was. John did not look away; his son needed reassurance from him right now.

Once he’d limped through the entryway into the house, John placed a small bag with a change of clothes just inside the doorway in the dimly lit hallway and forced himself to keep up with the woman and his son as they made their way to where he assumed was the kitchen. Pulses throbbed up his leg with each step until his breathing became so labored he had to stop and lean against the wall.

Elma materialized and grabbed his arm, urging him forward. "Senor, you are not well at all. Doctor Kennedy will be here later to see Senor Hawkins, and I will ask him to see you."

"Good, yeah...I planned to see the doctor in a day or two. Just need to rest a bit."

The woman did not reply, and by the set of her lips pressed together into a tight line, John knew she didn't agree. He was already going to ask too much of them, so the last thing he needed to burden them with was his illness.

The sound of voices traveled down the hallway, Elma and a muffled masculine voice. From the tone of the conversation, it was someone the woman knew. If it were someone from town, then hopefully they'd leave right away and were there only to see Elma. She was not in the mood for visitors. Most of the night her father had moaned in pain, and she'd remained by his bedside dolling out regular quantities of medication. Exhaustion did not begin to cover how she felt at the moment. Even the thought of going to the kitchen to get some tea before lying down for a few minutes would be a hardship for her at this point.

Mae arranged the blankets across her father's chest. He'd barely spoken today, his eyes continuingly closing and his breathing became more and more labored as time progressed. She'd been hesitant to wake Elma up and send someone to fetch the doctor. Thankfully when the woman finally came to check on him the next morning, he seemed better. Doctor Kennedy was due to come any minute, so they'd wait. She looked to the doorway; maybe the male who'd arrived was the doctor, as it was possible he decided to arrive earlier.

Mae leaned closer to the slumbering man, and placed her hand on his forehead. He felt cool to the touch, no fever.

A tremor shook him and his eyes opened. "You are still here." The weak statement scared more than reassured her. "Don't worry 'bout me. I'm going to die a happy man knowing you are where you deserve to be." His eyes closed again. A soft moan followed by tremors began again. She pulled on his chin to open his mouth and dispensed two drops of medication.

Minutes passed, and the moaning continued. This was troublesome. Mae scrambled from the room. "Elma! Come at once." She rushed down the hallway to the kitchen. He couldn't die. Not yet. Suddenly, she was not ready to let him go.

"Senorita, what is it?" Elma stopped her just as she got to the kitchen doorway. "Is the Senor in a bad way?"

"Y -- yes…" Mae stuttered only to stop speaking at seeing a pale John sitting at the kitchen table. He had a glass of lemonade in front of him, his hand wrapped around it.

When he went to stand, Elma went back to where he was and pushed him back down with a firm hand on his shoulder. "You should remain seated Senor McClain."

"What's wrong John?" Mae went to him brushing hair away from her face with the back of her hand distracted by the new matter at hand. "Are you sick?"

Despite his sallow skin and dark circled eyes coupled with the sheen of sweat on his face John's voice was strong. "I've had better days. I need to speak to you." His gaze swept to the boy and warmed. "My son needs a place to stay while I recover."

"Of course," Mae replied, distracted by the thumping of her heart at John's presence. She looked back to Elma. "Please send someone to fetch Doctor Kennedy; my father needs him now." She turned an accessing eye to John. "And he can see John while he's here too." Elma rushed to the back door and exited.

"You will stay here for a few days. You don't look well enough to travel right now."

John opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped when she tapped her foot and nodded, "I'd appreciate it."

Not sure what to do, Mae took a breath. "I will get a bedroom ready for you." Her eyes swept to the other side of the table, and she noticed a small child who sat opposite John. He'd not moved since she'd entered, so she'd missed him being there. What was she thinking? Of course it was John's child. He'd mentioned needing the boy to stay. She swung back to John. "Did his mother come with you?"

"No, just us two."

She made her way toward the child. "My name is Mae." Her attempt at a smile failed.

Exact replicas of John's serious eyes looked back at her. The boy seemed at ease around strangers. "Hello."

"His name is Wesley," John told her. "My son."

"It’s more than obvious since he's your spitting image." Mae patted the boy's head and looked at John who stared at the boy as if noticing the resemblance for the first time.

"He's got your eyes, dark hair and seems to have your personality as well."

He gave her a questioning look.

Elma came back inside. "Alan is gone to fetch Doctor Kennedy. I will go see about Senor Hawkins."

"No," Mae stopped her. "I will go back. Please see about Mister McClain and Wesley." She was not ready be alone with John, didn't want to know why he was there with only his son. Not today. Thankfully, he did not try to stop her.

She went back to her father's bedroom to wait for the doctor to arrive but could not sit still. Twice she went to the door and started to leave, turned away and paced back to the window. Maybe she should go and talk to John, if he planned to leave the child with her. Where was the boy's mother?

John's wagon remained in the front of the house. Alan appeared and drove it away to the back where the stables were.

Why was John here? Why did he come alone with only the child? It was obvious he was very ill. Her face softened at recalling the small child. He was adorable; no doubt a replica of what John had looked like as a babe. Did John leave the boy's mother? Was it possible? No, perhaps, his she was away, and John needed help caring for the boy. Wesley. Yes that was his name. John needed help with Wesley since he was not feeling well.

Her head falling forward snapped Mae awake at Doctor Kennedy's voice just outside the doorway. The opening of the door made her jump to her feet and move toward it. Elma stood with him, a grim expression on her face. The doctor moved past Mae into the room and she would have followed him except for Elma taking her arm.

"Allow Doctor Kennedy to see after your father. Come have a cup of tea in the kitchen with me. You look exhausted."

She turned to look at the man in the bed, a virtual stranger yet she could not stop the sorrow from engulfing her. "All right, yes." Mae permitted Elma to steer her toward the kitchen.

They drank tea in silence for a few minutes, Elma watched her closely. "You have a good heart Senorita. You care for your father even though you never got to know him well." Elma shook her head at her shrug. "He loves you. A day rarely passed that he didn't mention you."

Mae heaved a sigh. "I don't know what I feel. Perhaps it’s just that I don't like to see anyone suffer… Speaking of which, where are John and his son?"

"Senor McClain went to lie down, and the child is asleep as well. I gave him something for the fever," Elma replied. "He said he felt bad asking you to look after the boy for him until he recovers."

"Oh," Mae replied, not sure what to think. "Did he say what was wrong?"

"I think he is very ill. Do you not have any idea?"

"No…well, his leg is injured. He was shot." Mae wondered if perhaps it had become infected again. "Doctor Kennedy should see about him once he finishes with father."

As if prompted, the doctor called for them, and both went to the master bedroom. "I'm sorry." His somber eyes met hers and then Elma's. "Your father has passed away Miss Mae," the doctor turned to the bed. "I'll give you some time with him."

Elma linked her arm through Mae's, her brow pinched. The woman no doubt was suffering even more than she. After all, she'd lived there for years, had known her father well. Mae patted the woman's hand, and Elma looked up her eyes filled with tears.

"Doctor, please wait." Mae went to him and told him about John. She went down the hall to the bedroom next to her and opened the door. Both John and Wesley were asleep, with the boy snuggled next to John's much larger body. Mae smiled at the sight and captured it in her mind. She picked up the boy, and John woke.

"I'll leave you to see about him doctor." Mae walked out with the sleeping child in her arms and placed him in her bed then went back to find Elma.

Joshua walked into the front room an hour later. He went directly to her father's bedroom and came back only a few minutes later ashen. "Uncle Joe wanted to be buried over in the east field next to Aunt Mary. I'll take care of it." Joshua fidgeted with his hat and looked to Mae. "If there's anything you need, I'm right next door."

What could she possibly need? Her life, if she chose to remain in Texas, was set. No money problems, an honest existence. And Virginia, although not the best of circumstances, it was a familiar comfortable place.

"We can discuss later if anything it all rightly belongs to you." Mae replied.

Joshua walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Don't think or say anything else on the matter. I am happy and don't begrudge you this house or the land. Like I said before, Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe took very good care of me. They were the best parents anyone could wish for. Raised me, being mine died when I was fourteen."

When Joshua left, Mae closed her eyes and immersed herself in the total silence of the moment. Elma was making arrangements for the wake, and Doctor Kennedy was still with John.

She let out a breath and opened her eyes at the sound of soft footsteps. Wesley stood at the doorway, his dirty bundle against his chest. "Momma?"

Mae went to him and scooped him up as he began to cry. "No baby, don't cry, please don't cry. I don't know where your momma is, and I am afraid if you keep crying I'm going to have to cry with you."

The little boy clung to her, his little body shaking as he sobbed and took shaky breaths in between. Mae began to him rock back and forth while rubbing his back. When Wesley continued to cry, she began to sing. It was an old song Miss Lady would sing to her when she cried for her mother.

"Sweet and low, sweet and low Wind of the Western Sea"

"Blow, blow, breathe and blow Wind of the Western Sea"

"Over the rolling waters, blow, Come from the dying moon and blow…"

Finally after little Wesley stopped crying and laid his head on her shoulder, he took another shaky breath. "Momma," he whispered.

Mae cradled him against her until his little body went limp and the bundle fell to the floor with a soft thump. She bent to pick up the pitiful parcel and returned to her bedroom, thankful the sleeping child could not see her tears. "Oh darling where is your mother?" She kissed his soft hair and laid him in her bed. He stirred a bit, but thankfully continued to sleep.

"Miss Hawkins?" Doctor Kennedy peered in from the doorway. "I must speak to you. It's urgent."

After a quick wipe at her cheeks with the back of her hands, she followed the doctor to the kitchen. When he hesitated, she poured him a cup of coffee he readily accepted. Lines of fatigue stretched across his brow, the man sat and took a couple swallows of the hot liquid. "I'm afraid I have to lay the burden on you of making a very difficult decision for John."

Mae sunk into the nearest chair. "I'm exhausted Doctor Kennedy. I am not sure I have any strength left." She looked to the back door desperately wishing someone would enter and take control of the situation that was about to get much worse. When no one did, Mae sighed and met the doctor's eyes. "Is John going to die too?"

"No Miss Hawkins, not if I amputate his leg today."