John's heartbreaking screams pierced straight into her soul, and Mae lost all ability to control her reaction. She jumped from a chair in the front room and raced down the short hallway toward the bedroom where she'd been barred from entering just minutes earlier.

Finding the door locked, she pounded on it with her fists and shouted her shrieks mixing along with John's. Each peal of sound from the other side of the doorway echoed the terror clawing through her entire being.

"Please don't! I've changed my mind! Don't do it." Why did they not answer? Joshua, Elma and the doctor were in there; surely one of them heard her.

When her cries continued unanswered, Mae kicked at the door and tried to twist the doorknob, neither gave way. "Doctor Kennedy, please don't do it. I made a mistake." Her words became mere gasps as she slid down to the floor and sobbed into her hands. Oh God, he's going to hate me. He will never forgive me for this. What have I done?

Another scream pierced the air, and she slammed her fist against the door again. When it too went unanswered, Mae clawed at the door. "Please open the door, don't do this." God she had no right to make such a decision for John. Why had she not insisted they wait another day, another few hours to see if he came to? He'd passed out from the fever, but he'd made it through before, surely he would have this time.

Bloody trails of where her fingernails cut into the wood did little to deter her. She began to pound again. Finally the door opened, and she struggled to get to her feet. Unfortunately she was too drained and her legs refused to budge. "Don't do it, please." She whispered. "Please."

Strong arms slid around her and pulled her to her feet.

"Mae, you're not helping things," Joshua's calm voice washed over her, and she looked up with desperation.

"Oh God Joshua, please help me. Go back inside and make the doctor stop." Mae grabbed his shirt and shook him, her fingers leaving bloody imprints. "They must not do this."

"It's done. The doctor is stitching him up now. John's passed out is why he's quiet. The poor man remained conscious the entire time."

Mae began to sob uncontrollably, and Joshua pulled her against him. "Shush now Mae, it has to be done. Doc said he would've died for sure, the infection was so bad."

"Oh my God," her knees gave out, and Mae would have fallen to the floor, if not for Joshua who scooped her up and carried the weeping woman to the bedroom. It felt as if she was going to pass out as well as everything went out of focus; she barely felt Joshua lay her on the bed.

"Now stay here and try to calm down. I'll get you some whiskey. Doc don't need any more distractions right now." Joshua walked out.

What would John do now? This had to be the worst day of her life. She turned her face into the pillow and began to scream into it until her throat was raw, and then she kept on.

Exhaustion filled her days. Seven days, an entire week had passed since John lost his leg, and each day had become a replica of the last. It was dusk and Mae sat with Wesley. She read to him while the child attempted to remain awake snapping his eyes open when they began to close. Her own eyes felt heavy at the moment as well.

If it weren't for having to check on John's wound and clean it again, she would allow sleep to come. When the boy's eyes finally remained closed, she slipped from the bedroom where he slept and made her way to where John was.

John's soft breathing was the only sound in the room until Mae poured the hot water into a clean basin and dipped white sterilized cloths into it.

With careful hands, she pushed the light blanket up to his thigh and lifted the leg thankful she could do this now without eliciting moans from him. The sedative kept him in a state of light slumber most days, and although she was glad he wasn't in as much pain, Mae wondered how long it would be before he'd come to long enough to speak. To realize what had happened.

They had yet to discuss the amputation. It wasn't clear yet if he even grasped the events of each day.

Once the wound was revealed, she turned and washed her hands thoroughly as doctor Kennedy had instructed and she began to cleanse it. It was healing nicely, the flesh knitting together rather smoothly. The physician had done a competent job of removing the bottom portion of John's leg, from the knee down. Mae did not feel any repulsion at seeing the wound. Truth be told the infected gunshot weeks before had been more shocking than this.

A yawn escaped her as she finished cleansing and wrapping the leg. Last thing was to empty the basin. The water sloshed side to side, with each step to the back door. Once she exited the house, she flung the liquid onto the dirt.

When she replaced the basin on the side table, she pulled the sleeping man's blanket up to his chest and smoothed them. She'd wait a few minutes to ensure he did not wake in pain. Collapsing into a chair next to the bed, she watched his chest rise and fall. A few strands of dark hair fell over his well-shaped brows, long lashes fanned over the tops of his cheekbones. Her eyes locked on his slightly parted lips. How soft they'd felt against hers, yet at the same time demanding everything from her, eliciting feelings she'd never experienced.

Another yawn and she decided to close her eyes for a minute.

"Mae?"

John's voice startled her. Sunlight peeked through the curtains. She'd been in the same spot all night, must have fallen asleep. A smile curved her lips at meeting John's clear gray eyes. He studied her with a puzzled expression, and looked about the room.

"Where am I?"

"You and Wesley are here at Hawkins ranch. Don't you remember?" Mae tried to keep her tone light, not wanting to cause him any undue distress. Not yet. The bad news would come soon enough.

"Ranch?" He studied her for a few seconds before continuing. "Yes, I remember now. How long have I been here?"

Oh God. "It's been seven days."

"What?" He started to push to a seated position when she dashed to the bed and pushed him down.

"Don't John! You'll make yourself sick to your stomach. I'll help you up in a few minutes. First take your time and get your bearings."

Alarm filled eyes met hers, before he closed them. "I've been here for a week?"

"Yes."

"What about my son? How is he?"

"He's great, probably in the kitchen charming extra flapjacks out of Elma again."

He brought his arm up over his face and covered his eyes with it. "Mae, I have to speak to you. I have a favor to ask of you. I need you to watch after Wesley for me. I have to get my leg taken care of."

"John," Mae interrupted him moving his arm away from his face. "Look at me."

He did, and this time she could see the old John. An eyebrow cocked, daring her to interrupt him again. "You look tired. You've been caring for your father and me. Probably watching after Wesley too."

"My father died a week ago. And it’s not a very flattering observation John McClain." Mae smiled down at him. "Come on let me help you sit up."

"I'm sorry for your loss." John allowed her to help him sit up.

"Don't be, we knew it would happen." She pushed pillows behind his back while he adjusted to sitting, and held her breath knowing any moment now he'd realize the bottom part of his left leg was gone.

"Mae?"

"Yes John."

"It's done?"

"Yes."

He didn't say anything for a long time, and Mae felt at a loss for what she should say to him. Instead she fumbled and pulled at the blankets straightening them to keep her hands busy. Next she went to the basin and filled it with cooled water from the pitcher. After dipping a cloth in to soak it, she wrung it and went back to the bed.

With slow deliberate strokes, she passed the cloth over his face, the entire time his serious eyes remained locked to hers. "I'm not married Mae."

Not sure why he made the statement now, she only nodded.

"Wesley's mother and I met when I was stationed near her home. We began a relationship. I was sent to a remote assignment, so I didn't know she was pregnant, not at first. She contacted my parents, but they didn't tell me anything about it when she refused to meet with them or come to live with them." He took a breath. "They thought she was just looking to get money. In Carla's case it was probably true."

"Where is she now?"

He watched as she ran the cloth down his arms. "Probably headed west to California. She's married now, or so she says. They didn't want to take Wesley along." John cleared his throat, and his brows drew together. "Thank you for caring for him."

Approaching with caution, Mae leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "That's what friends do John, we care for one another. Besides, I've fallen in love with Wesley and well... he with me. We were waiting for you to wake up, so we can let you know we're running off together. Into the sunset"

His smile lightened the mood in the room. "He's a lucky man."