Firefly Glen yomblod

he wept and her own tears continued. why did he cry? maybe it was for gideon and ezra; she was sobbing softly for them too, for their hurt and their confusion, for the wounds that would be left in them after losing their home and their family.
but they had a chance to have another. both boys had a father and a brother. pain was unavoidable; rebuilding was the legacy she wanted to pass down to them.
"i don't know. just that the sickness can be slow and then your mind goes. it could be a virus. something that will pass. but i don't think so, anselm."
she shut her eyes at his unerring refusal to come close to her; it mirrored too harshly the first days of their initial contact. and it was good — that he meant to keep himself from her sickness meant he would safeguard their sons as well.
but maybe there was something more, maybe, something else he could give her.
us. was she selfish to hold that bittersweet bauble so close to her heart?
there was understanding in her that despite his tearstained struggle, anselm would bring ezra to a safe place. to gideon. her eyes then were filled with gratitude, and then she let the derelict dam within her heart break. "do you think we ever could have —" but there was no way to finish that sentence. the love in her eyes beseeched him a final time to speak truly.