Chapter Thirteen

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"I guess this is it," Katie said, her voice unsteady as she took Jen's hands in hers and squeezed them slightly. "We'll sure miss you, Jen."

A soft breeze swept over the beach as the two female Rangers bid 'farewell' for—perhaps—the last time. Jen took a deep breath as her dark hair was blown away from her face and tears sprang to her eyes, she hugged Katie, then turned to Trip.

Eric shook hands grimly with each officer and thanked them for their help, he couldn't help but note the knowing smile on Katie's face when Taylor joined him. Silently, he wondered what their future held, and wished Katie could tell him.

"Good-bye, Trip," Wes said. "Thanks for everything . . . again."

"I hope we have to do it again," Trip choked, blinking rapidly in his effort not to cry.

"Come on," Donavan Sherrin spoke. "we should go."

Wes and Jen held onto each other tightly as they watched the time-ship disappear into the future, both thankful she wasn't on it. Wes slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him protectively, then placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Jen," he whispered. "Everything will be all right from now on."

"I know," she sighed. "And I love you, too."

--

Katie sat slowly and stared at the markers above the graves, just like almost a millenia ago, there stood the headstones of Lucas Kendall, Cara Wisnosky, and Alexander Collins—although all had crumbled to half their original size.

Next to them, Katie saw five more stones, wincing when she read the names of each: ALAN COLLINS. WESLEY COLLINS. JENNIFER COLLINS. ERIC MYERS.

"And Taylor . . . Myers," Katie whispered, smiling.

--

2012

Taylor was nine months pregnant at the time of the ceremony, and Eric was a nervous wreck; Wes only laughed at him, although he was also nervous, since Jen was seven months along herself.

Her water broke as soon as their were pronounced man and wife.

"Holy shit!" Eric muttered, holding onto his wife.

"Relax, Eric," Taylor said calmly. "Plenty of time. We still . . . ohhh . . . " She pressed her hands to her belly, nearly doubling over in pain.

Jen made her way to the front and clutched Taylor's arm supportingly, she shook Wes, saying quickly: "Help me get her to the car. I don't think we have time to call an ambulance."

Ten minutes later, they were stuck in traffic, still a good thirty minutes from the hospital; Taylor was in the backseat with Jen, Wes in the driver's, and Eric in the passenger's seat.

"How're you holding up, Tay?" Wes called back.

"I—I'm okay," Taylor replied, grimacing.

"Any progress yet?" Jen asked, leaning over the seat between Wes and Eric.

"We're stuck." Eric swore under his breath. "Looks like there's an accident up ahead."

Taylor moaned in pain, bringing Jen's attention back to the young woman, once quick check and she reported: "The baby's on its way, boys. We won't make it to the hospital in time."

Wes and Eric exchanged frantic looks, actually bringing smiles to the strained faces of Jen and Taylor; then Eric asked anxiously: "Do any of you have the slightest idea how to deliver a baby?"

"I do," Jen told him. "Don't worry. Taylor—and your baby—will be fine."

Only fifteen minutes had passed and the traffic was beginning to clear when a newborn's cries were heard throughout Wes' car; he and Eric stared at each other in disbelief before twisting in their seats to see Taylor holding a tiny, red-faced infant.

"A boy," Jen said.

"Ahh . . . " Eric grinned, his lighting up with excitement. "We got an Eric Jr."

"Eric Wesley," Wes added.

"Eric Wesley Myers, Jr.," Eric murmured. "I have a son."

--

3005

Their good fortune hadn't ended with little Eric Jr., two months later Jen had given birth to Alexander, and over the next ten years Taylor had two more children, Alan and Sarah; and Jen had three, Kendall, Katelyn, and Lucas.

Katie smiled, remembering her friends and the time they had spent together; she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Trip.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. "It's just . . . weird. To see this." She gestured to the graves.

"I know." Trip winced, nodding. "They're still with us, Katie. Just in another time."

"I wouldn't trade one moment we shared with them," Katie said. "Would you?"

"Nope. Not for anything."

On July 17th, 2036 in Silver Hills, 21-year-old Sarah Myers Collins delivered the first grandchild of both Eric and Taylor Myers, as well as Wes and Jen Collins. The child was a daughter, Elizabeth Jennifer, she—along with the other children—would carry on the legacy of the Collins and Myers families.

Wes and Jen wrapped their arms tightly around each other as they watched little Elizabeth be carried into the nursery by her adoring grandfather, Eric.

A few years later, it would be discovered that Wes had fathered a son in his college years with an old girlfriend, and that son, by name of William Collins—having taken his father's name—would go on to be a successful businessman as well as husband and father.

"Think of it, love," Wes whispered to Jen as they watched William's children play. "Those children will grow up someday, marry, and have children of their own. And eventually . . . "

Jen silenced him by placing a kiss on his lips, knowin what he was thinking . . .

. . . Many, many years down the line, a descendant of William's held his wife's hand as she delivered their first son without any medication, and at home.

"You okay, Belle?" he asked, worried.

"She's doing fine, sir," the doctor answered. "No need to—oh, here it comes!"

"Boy or girl?" Andrew Collins demanded.

"A . . . boy!"

Belle laughed, tears stinging her eyes as she took her newborn son in her arms and held him lovingly; the starship commander and Time Force officer had never felt so much love as when she looked into her son's eyes and named him:

"Alexander Patrick Collins."

And so the story begins . . .

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