A/N: No, FF is not having problems - this really is an update. Or rather, an epilogue of sorts. I realized last month marked five years (!) since the first Calamity Jane story was finished, and I wanted to commemorate that somehow. I found myself writing something set five years from the end of CJ2, and here we are. Nothing momentous, just a revisit to these iterations of Jane and Maura, who have meant so much to me. Hope there is something here you enjoy :)

Maura woke up to the feeling of small hands shaking her arm. She blinked her eyes open; the sun was barely up, but four-year-old Lily Mae was awake and alert.

"Mamma! Mamma, wake up!"

"Mmmm, is it morning already?" Maura mumbled, stretching with an exaggerated yawn. "I'm much too tired to get up right now. I think I need to sleep some more, and I want some company!"

She grabbed Lily and hauled her into the bed, tickling her. Lily's shrieks of delight got the dogs barking outside, and Jane hurried into the room with an air of theatrical distress.

"Is someone gettin' attacked in here?" she gasped.

"No!" Lily cried, hardly able to breathe for laughing. She tried to point to Maura, who had ducked under the covers out of sight, still tickling.

"You sure?" Jane asked. "Looks like there might be some kinda critter in here!" She threw the blanket off with a flourish, revealing her jubilant companion. Jane moved to grab Maura, but Lily's arms were outstretched, so Jane veered towards her to pick her up instead. She gave the girl a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "There you are, little lamb! Shall we get you outta here?"

"No, no, Ma, wait!" She whispered something in Jane's ear.

"Oh, blast me for forgetting!"

Jane stooped so Lily was at Maura's height. "Bonne anniversaire, Mamma!" she chirped, pecking Maura's cheek.

Maura laughed and returned the kiss. "Merci, darling!"

Lily got down and scampered out of the room. Jane laughed and sat down on the bed. "I can't believe a child of mine speaks such beautiful French. That was cute of you to teach her that phrase."

"I'd intended for her to say it to you."

"Oh she did, in the middle of the night. I heard her running upstairs after a nightmare, and came out to meet her. We ended up sleeping on the sofa. She's been dyin' to say that to you all morning. Did ya tell her what it meant?"

"Yes, but I had to explain the phrase in English, also," Maura said. "I just told her it'd been five years since you and I moved into this house, and we wanted to celebrate that." She laced her fingers with Jane's and kissed her. "Bonne anniversaire, mon amour."

"Felice anniversario, cara mia," Jane returned. "You hungry? Collin's got breakfast goin'."

Collin, whose tenth birthday had been last month, had taken a steady interest in cooking for the last two years. He'd spend at least a couple hours at Angela's tavern every day, watching the cook and joining in when he was allowed. The family oohed and aahed over the bacon and flapjacks he slid onto their plates, looking pleased by their reactions.

It was funny; Lily was related to Jane by blood and Collin to Maura, but to look at the children, you would guess the opposite. Lily had inherited Tommy's hazel eyes and Lydia's fair hair, making her passable as a mini-Maura. Collin's dark brown hair and eyes and darker complexion made him look more like Jane. He had dimples like Maura, though, and they were Jane's favorite feature for this reason. She reached over to give his hair an affectionate ruffle, kissing his forehead and thanking him for the breakfast. Maura proclaimed him the next Fred Harvey.

A knock at the door came just as Collin has started clearing the table. Jane answered it to see Frankie, who greeted the children by asking, "All ready to go, critters?"

Collin dropped the silverware on the table and ran downstairs with a whoop of excitement.

"What's goin' on?" Jane asked.

"Riley's off to help her brother and his wife get settled in Flagstaff," Frankie answered. "And when Maura heard that she was going, she asked if Collin and Lily Mae could come along to visit Kay for a spell."

Kay, who was Collin's other beloved half-sister, had moved to Flagstaff with her husband the day after their wedding. She had visited Hollow Creek many times over the years, and a few family trips had been made to Flagstaff as well - but the children had never gone without Jane or Maura.

"How long of a spell?" Jane inquired.

"Her return train is two weeks from tomorrow," Frankie answered.

"They'd be gone fifteen days?!"

"Your math is improving!" Frankie joked, patting Jane's head. He walked past her to assist Collin with the suitcase, and Lily followed.

Maura pulled Jane into the kitchen to enlist her help in washing the dishes. "Is this all right? Perhaps I shouldn't have surprised you. I was hoping it would make for a nice anniversary present—just some time alone for the two of us. We haven't had that in so long."

Jane's smile looked hesitant. "That sounds wonderful, Maura, it really does. I just ...do you think Lily will be okay? She ain't ever been apart from us that long, not even close."

"It may be hard, but she'll have Collin right there, with Kay and Peter, and Riley to look in on them. You know how much Kay adores that little girl."

"I know." Behind them, Frankie was moving the luggage outside to his coach, and the children ran out to watch. "I can't believe you planned all this without me knowin' about it," Jane said, impressed.

Maura touched Jane's face, turning it to look at her. "This is a big step, and maybe one I should've talked through with you first. But you're always the one giving me such lovely surprises, and I'd hoped to do the same for you! I wouldn't have arranged it if I didn't think Collin and Lily were both ready, but maybe you're not. And if you aren't, I can go out there right now and call it off."

"No, no, don't do that," Jane was quick to say. She smiled. "It's a helluva surprise, sweetheart, and I think maybe a little break from the cherubs could do us well."

"Cherubs" had been Angela's pet name of choice when the Rizzoli siblings were kids. Nobody could understand her desire to use the word when Jane was always raising hell and Tommy made such trouble, but it was her favorite term of endearment nonetheless. Collin and Lily likewise weren't cherubic all the time, but the name was stuck in Jane's head and Maura thought it was sweet.

They went outside to see the group off, relieved that no tears were shed in the departure.

"Gosh, a morning to ourselves," Jane said once the carriage was out of sight. "What would you like to do, m'dear?"

Jane's voice had been a careful balance of sincere and coy, trying not to sway Maura one way or the other. Maura had intended to play hard to get, but her resolve hadn't lasted more than two seconds when she said, "I'd like to go back to bed and bring you with me."

Jane already found herself enjoying the anniversary surprise: it was wonderful to have free reign of the house again, to start kissing Maura the moment they were back inside and to start disrobing before they'd made it back to the bedroom. A trail of clothes was left in their wake as Jane gave Maura a light push onto the bed and hurried to undo her belt. Maura reared back up onto her knees, yanking Jane's pants down, and Jane stepped out of them with a laugh. But Maura made no time for laughter as she took hold of Jane's waist, kissing her stomach and making her way up. Jane's laughter turned into a satisfied sigh as she held Maura's head to her breast, before it became too much and she pushed Maura back onto the bed to climb up with her.

"You've gotten so good at keeping quiet," Jane whispered, moving a hand to Maura's leg. She started a trail of hard kisses up Maura's neck before meeting her lips in a frenzied kiss. "Come on," she panted. "Let me know my wild child ain't gone forever."

Maura latched one hand onto Jane's curls and the other to the headboard as Jane began purposefully kissing her way down Maura's body, and Dr. Isles was not quiet for long.

It wasn't that they had never had any time to themselves before. Frankie and Riley had kept the children overnight a few times, as had Angela. When they traveled to Flagstaff, there wasn't room for them all to stay at Kay's, so Jane and Maura would take a room in a nearby hotel. But there was something about the prospect of being alone together at home in the middle of the day that felt thrillingly novel. Maura was loathe to pull herself out of bed, but duty called: she had weekly appointments with Adelaide Johns these days, and the old woman could not be put off.

"My goodness, dear, I was beginning to think you'd given up on me," Adelaide said as Maura hurried into her home. "You remember Dr. Callahan?"

"Adelaide here sent word that you could use a hand for these next couple of weeks? Said you might be going out of town?" When Maura did nothing but flick her eyes at Adelaide, Dr. Callahan went on: "I've left my apprentice in charge of our office in Green Forge as a testing period while I take over your post during your absence."

"Oh! That's very gracious of you, doctor, but I'm not certain I'll be away for two whole w—"

"Consider it time off, then, for a job well done," Dr. Callahan said. "I just came to meet you so I could learn the breakdown of our dear Adelaide's tonic."

Once procuring the necessary information, Dr. Callahan bid the ladies good day and left the house. Maura stared incredulously at Adelaide, who looked quite happy with herself.

"You know what I've always had a good head for, my dear?" Adelaide asked, tapping her forehead and winking at Maura. "Dates. I remember a lovely housewarming party hosted by you and Jane five years ago today. Yes," she laughed, "I recall many patrons at that party guessing you'd be out within a year, and I daresay they underestimated you! I thought some sort of gift to mark the occasion might be in order, so I did some figuring. You had mentioned Collin and Lily were going to Flagstaff for a couple of weeks, and it seemed a shame not to let you and Jane have a similar opportunity during their absence. I've spoken with the Sheriff and he agreed that he could get along quite well with Frost, Frankie and Martinez for the next fortnight."

"Addie, I don't know what to say!"

"Well you could say, 'here's your tonic' for starters."

"Oh, dear!" Maura sighed, handing it over. "I'm sorry, I got so distracted. I can't believe what you've done, you dear thing. Goodness, I wish I'd had time to plan a trip of some sort. That is, I'm excited to talk to Jane and see what ideas she might have!" Maura said, not wanting to sound ungrateful. "Thank you, Adelaide, truly."

"That's not all," Adelaide trilled, pulling a small box from her desk and handing it over. "This developed just in time."

Letting out an exclamation of delight, Maura threw her arms around the old woman and kissed her cheek. "How perfect, Addie, thank you!"

"Oh, don't make such a fuss out of it," Adelaide said, though she looked very pleased by Maura's reaction. "Will you just pass along a message to Jane for me?"

"I'd be too happy."

Adelaide smacked Maura's backside with a ruler.

When Maura got home, it was to see Jane on the porch with her feet up on the railing. "Darlin', you'll never guess! The Sheriff was just here, and—"

"And he's freed you for the next two weeks ?" Maura said, taking the chair next to her.

"Shucks, did you pass him on your way up?"

"Actually, Addie told me. It seems it was her idea, so the two of us could have something of a break. And speaking of Addie, here's the second part of your gift."

Jane opened the box. "Oh! Adelaide found my pocket watch?"

"I have a confession to make: I nicked it myself," Maura admitted. "The last one you had was personal, and I thought this one should be, too."

Jane used to wear a pocket watch that had belonged to Maura's father, but a bullet fragment had rendered it useless apart from sentiment. It now had a special spot of honor on the mantelpiece.

Jane opened the newer watch at Maura's urging, and realized at once why she had taken it to Adelaide. Embedded on the inside of the watch, opposite the face, was a photograph of Maura from the shoulders up. Her hair was up and she was wearing a capelet Adelaide had made for Jane years ago, which Jane had given to Maura. Jane brought the watch closer to her eyes, soaking in every detail.

"I thought perhaps you could take it with you when Korsak sends you out on cases," Maura said, watching Jane with bated breath. "You know how Adelaide gave me that old photograph of you to look at when you're away? Now you'll have this, and maybe that'll make it a little easier to bear the separation." She paused as Jane continued to look over the watch in silence. "Hearing it out loud, it does sound a tad self-centered."

Jane looked up at her, smiling, and Maura was hushed by the tears brimming in Jane's eyes. "Sweetheart, it's wonderful," she murmured, closing the watch and slipping it into her pocket. "And I will treasure it for the rest of my days. Thank you."

Glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, Jane gave Maura a short kiss. Then she stood up, taking Maura's hand to lead her back into the house.

"I was gonna wait to give you your gift until tonight, but since you got us started already," she chuckled. "I commissioned this for ya."

She gestured to a thin, wide object covered in brown paper. Maura unwrapped it and gasped when she saw the painting underneath: she recognized her mother's style at once, but the western landscape was something Constance had never attempted before. The scene she depicted was so stunning in its cavernous beauty that Maura had to assume it was an image conjured from Constance's imagination. She had staged the scene at sunset, painting the sky a magnificent blue-purple that reflected on the canyon. Towards the bottom right corner of the canvas were two small figures on horseback.

Maura peered closer. "Is that…?"

"That's us, yeah," Jane said.

"Well I'll be," Maura said with a soft laugh. "This is beautiful. I've never seen a painting I admired more." She pulled Jane into a kiss, but kept it short because she wanted to go back to staring at the art. "Thank you, darling, I love it."

"What do you think of the frame?" Jane asked, knowing Maura shared her mother's critical eye for such things. "Should we get another one?"

"Oh, no!" Maura said, straightening up. "No, no, it's perfect. And it's so finely done! I'm sure my mother had it custom-made."

Jane laughed. "Something like that. I made it."

Maura gasped again. "You devil! What would you have done if I had said I didn't like it?"

"I'd have thrown myself into that canyon," Jane said, nodding at the painting. "I've got one more gift, sort of a work in progress I'll get to ya in a few days," Jane said. "Hope you can forgive the lateness."

"Lateness I can forgive. However, the anticipation is going to be very difficult," Maura said, straightening up again.

Jane bent down to pick Maura up, and Maura wrapped her legs around Jane's waist. "Oh, you and anticipation," Jane chuckled. She left a long kiss at the base of Maura's neck. "You complain about it, but I know you love it."

"Mmm..." Maura cradled Jane's head in her hands and kissed her as Jane walked them towards the front door. "Don't be cruel, Jane, please."

Within the first year of their life in the house, Jane had installed locks on the outer doors. In general this was for safety at night, but at the moment they'd also serve the purpose of ensuring no visitors barged in at what was soon to be an inopportune moment. It was difficult walking to the back door while holding Maura, who was leaving kisses all over her face, but in time she succeeded.

Maura was pinned against the back door now, aching for some kind of relief with her legs still wrapped around Jane. She moaned when Jane resumed kissing her neck. "Take me to bed."

"Bed? When we got a whole house to ourselves? C'mon, sweetheart, break out that wide mind of yours. You tell me where you want it and I'll take you there."

Maura's imagination yielded against the door, the couch, and the kitchen table (once Jane had cleared it and haphazardly thrown a clean tablecloth on top of it).

"I can't believe this supported both of us," Maura panted, giving the table an appreciative pat.

"Mm, its those sturdy legs," Jane murmured, running her hand down Maura's thigh. She smiled when the move made Maura's breath hitch mid-chuckle. "You need some rest, sweetheart?"

"I do," she sighed, pulling Jane down to kiss her forehead. "And so would you, I'd think!"

Calamity Jane just winked at her before starting another languid kiss.

Sometime before sunset, Jane rowed them over to her alcove in Wohaw Springs. They had packed a picnic basket for dinner, to which they had both contributed their favorite dishes. By the time they had eaten their fill, the sun was starting to set, and they stretched back on their quilt to watch.

"So, two weeks without the cherubs," Jane mused, snaking her arm under Maura's shoulders. "I'd be happy spending all that time making love to you in various parts of the house, but it seems a shame not to take advantage of the chance to get in some travelin'."

"I agree. What do you think about Grand Junction? I can't believe I still haven't made it over to Colorado in all the time I've been here."

"Not sure we could get accommodating trains for our schedule. And besides, that's where Collin's mother's buried, remember? I reckon we oughtta wait and take him there."

"Hmmm...where shall we go?"

They had taken short family trips to different parts of Arizona before, and their longest venture had taken them to the Utah territory. People thought it strange that they wanted to travel so much and so far, but wandering had been such a key part of Jane's life that even with the hassle, she couldn't abide the thought of never roaming. As much as Jane and Maura adored their children, the chance to take a trip alone was very appealing and they didn't want to waste it.

"Hang on, I know where we're goin'," Jane said after a contemplative silence. "You know the landscape your mother just gifted us?"

Maura shifted to stare at her. "You don't mean to say it's a real place?"

"It sure is, I seen it myself! Aw, it's a great story. Stop me if I've told ya before. This was back in the spring of, oh, I think 1880, and there was this fiend called Bad Bascomb. The law weren't havin' no luck finding him, and Frost and I weren't gettin' no place with Hoyt, so we thought maybe we'd give ole Bascomb a go. He had a brilliant plan, know what it was?"

"What?" Maura asked, smiling at Jane's enthusiasm. She loved how invested Jane got in telling her stories.

"He and his posse were hidin' in plain sight in a wagon train of religious pioneers! See, you ain't never heard of Bad Bascomb, right? His name didn't get much further than the west, and these folks were comin' over from Nauvoo. All Bascomb had to do was change his name and shave his whiskers, and they took him in to convert him. So when the law caught up with the wagon train and asked after Bascomb, they'd say he wasn't there 'cause they didn't know no better. Frost and I, though, we knew a thing about disguises, see? We knew old Bascomb had last been seen nearby, and we searched every wagon."

"Were you dressed as Jake?"

"Oh, yes. Had to be, if we wanted to take in Bascomb. He went by the name Brother Ezekiel," Jane said, rolling her eyes. "And everyone vouched for him when he insisted I was mistaken. So I told them, all right, check the back of his neck for a rope burn—'cause see, Bascomb had escaped a hangin' once and it left its mark. I told the wagon leader that if the burn weren't there, I'd not only leave 'em be, I'd take some of their literature. That got 'em willing to look, and Bascomb grabbed a woman and held a gun to her head before anyone could touch him."

"What did you do?" Maura gasped.

Jane smirked. "I told him I was gonna bring him to the law, and he said I'd never take him alive. He was fast for a fella in his fifties, but he weren't faster'n me. I shot the pistol out of his hand when he tried to shoot me, and then five of those pioneers jumped him to tie him up. That poor girl he tried to take though, she was real startled."

"Did she swoon over you in gratitude?" Maura asked.

Jane laughed. "Well, Frost teased me for a while after that venture because not only did I leave without any of their literature, but six fellas offered me a wife. Or maybe one fella offered me six? Kinda hazy on that now."

"Oh, stop!" Maura laughed.

"I swear on my life, it's true!" Jane insisted. "We rode alongside 'em right up to the the Great Canyon your mother painted."

Maura had moved onto her side, draping her arm over Jane's stomach. "Would we have to take a train there?"

"Oh, no, we could make it in a buggy. Shouldn't take more than a few days to travel. Whaddya say, shall we head over there?"

"Heavens, let's."

They stayed snuggled together in silence as the sun finished its slow descent.

It wasn't until they set out that Maura realized she'd never traveled with Jane like this before. On overnight visits they would always stay in a tavern or a friend's home. For this trip, they would be camping under the stars, like Jane had done for so many years of her life.

Korsak would be watching the animals while they were away, and when he came to pick them up, he left Jane and Maura with a hefty amount of food from Angela.

It was some hours into their journey before there were no towns left in sight. Maura was reminded of her first day in Arizona, when she had been driven from the train station to her new home and been in awe of the landscape, too naive to even think of being afraid. Now she knew she had no reason to fear whatever nature or bandits might have wrought because she had proven herself capable of fighting back—and had the West's most competent protector at her side to boot. This lack of concern freed her to enjoy the scenery surrounding them.

Come evening, Maura was content to sit and watch as Jane busied herself making a fire and preparing dinner. Jane hadn't thought to ask for a hand and Maura hadn't thought to offer, delighted to observe a routine that seemed to be Jane's second nature.

There was no raucous activity in the tent that night. Maura adored the feeling of curling up next to Jane, exchanging gentle kisses before they fell asleep.

Their second day of traveling commenced without incident, and Jane observed how nice it was to be able to go at a leisurely pace. It was fun regaling Maura with stories of her old days. In five years, she still hadn't exhausted them all; one question or even a certain phrase from Maura could spark a tide of memories. Similarly, Maura entertained her with stories about the people and places she'd encountered in Europe.

All in all it was a delight to reaffirm that they were with someone who made hours go by like minutes.

Maura was still expecting that her mother's painting would exaggerate the site it was based on; Constance rarely depicted scenes exactly as she saw them, drawing instead on emotions to dramatize their appearance. So when they at last arrived at the grandest canyon in the country, Maura was astonished. It defied description; it almost defied belief. She tried more than once to articulate her thoughts, but couldn't get out more than a couple of gob-smacked sounds before giving up.

"Don't look at me, look at it!" Maura managed, noticing Jane was watching her.

"I can't help it," Jane laughed. "I love gettin' to see what you look like when you're at a loss for words."

She pulled the buggy to a stop, and poured some water into a bucket for their horse while Maura leapt out for a closer look at the canyon. Jane took her time tending to the horse but kept an eye on her eager companion, who surveyed the landscape as if in a daze.

When Jane walked over to join her, Maura was smiling but had tears in her eyes. "When I was a very young child, I asked my mother why we never went to church together. She told me she didn't believe in confining a deity to a building, and just to look around and see that a Creator's hand was evident in the land. The world was too beautiful a place to have been crafted by coincidence instead of by design." She shrugged, laughed, and more tears fell. "I can see what she means here. This is... this does not even seem real. I am here, I am looking right at it, and I cannot believe my eyes. It's celestial."

For as much as they'd talked on the ride over, most of their initial time at the canyon was spent in awed silence. Neither knew how much time had passed before Jane finally spoke.

"I reckon this'd be a good time to give you your other anniversary gift," she said. "I wanted to try and craft you a poem, but I dunno if that's what you'd call this."

After years of struggling to write, Jane had gotten good at committing important thoughts to memory. Now that she could put her ideas to paper, she wrote them more often, but today she spoke from the heart instead of the page. She had recited it enough to herself to work out the grammar and enunciation as well as she could.

"Being in a place like this makes me think about eternity. I remember when my mother passed, my father said don't be sad: you'll be without her for a spell, but you'll be reunited in eternity. When my father passed, Korsak told me don't be sad: you'll be without him for a spell, but you'll be reunited in eternity. They told me don't look at the body. The body is a shell, a home for a spirit. The spirit lives in eternity and so it never dies.

"And that is why, my dearest love, I would not tell you I love you with all my heart. I do not say I love you with all my blood, muscle, skin or bone. My heart will die when I pass on. I pray that will be many years from now, and I pray it happens for me before it does for you, but the heart's mortality is inevitable. It beats in peace when you are near me, and it beats feverishly when you are in me, but one day it will take its final beat. So I do not say I love you with all my heart because that would mean my love for you would end, and I can't believe it so.

"I love you with all my spirit. My spirit is eternal. My spirit knows no bounds. It does not depend on the price of mortality to exist." She stopped to pick up a small rock, then hurled it into the canyon with as much strength as she could muster. "See? Like that. You ain't gonna see where that lands, and you ain't gonna hear when it does. Standing from here, you wouldn't know there was an end to this thing. It just goes on forever. Same's true of my love for you."

When Maura looked at her like this, Jane felt like the most powerful, the most blessed figure in the universe.

"You know what occurred to me on our drive?" Maura asked. "You and I have been together now about the same length of time I was engaged to Mr. Fairfield. In that time I overlooked his faults in light of his kind treatment of me, and I forgave the ones I ought to have taken him to task for. I saw him lose the kindness I had loved him for in search of puffing himself up to appear greater than he was, with little regard to whose freedoms he might be puncturing in the process.

"With you, my dear calamitous soul, it has been very much the opposite. From the beginning you made me feel like I could air my concerns if you did something unnerving, and likewise I learned to take your criticisms with the spirit in which they were intended. Over time I have watched your growing comfort with letting your vulnerability and your softness shine, rather than fearing they would ruin your image. You have helped me grow. You have nurtured my soul. Loving you is not an obligation, it is not settling, it is n ever dull. You make each day of my life an adventure whether big or small, and I will always adore you for it."

Jane picked her up and swung her around, ending the hug with a kiss. But before they could get too carried away (and before it could get too dark), they went about setting up camp together.

"What are you thinking about?" Maura asked Jane, after they had eaten and had resumed their meditative viewing of the canyon.

"Wonderin' if particularly beautiful babies are conceived here," Jane joked.

Maura chuckled. "Why don't you make some beautiful love to me, and we'll call it square?"

"Mmm, I like the sound of that."

"I got a present I think both of us would like," Maura said. She lifted her skirt back, offering a view of red lace. Jane's eyebrows rose, but before she could say or do anything, Maura added, "I'd like to wait until we lose the view of the canyon before I show you any more."

"One beauty begets another," Jane said, casting her view back over the vista.

Jane started to make a fire before the sun had completely set, and she waited in the mouth of the tent for Maura to come over when she was ready. She patted her lap, and Maura laughed and sat herself there.

"It's been a while since I've seen you in the firelight," Jane murmured, unbuttoning Maura's light coat.

"I believe it's a good look for you as well," Maura said.

With an enviable show of patience, she brushed Jane's hands aside and shucked her of her fringed jacket. The shirt and undershirt came next, followed by the button of her trousers. Now lying on her back, Jane had intended on undressing Maura, but was brought to a halt when Maura slipped her hand down Jane's pants and kissed her neck. Looming over Jane, she shifted, keeping her one hand in place but moving the other to cradle Jane's head. Her lips traversed down Jane's neck and across her collar, settling on her flexing bicep.

Physical strength was always a trait Maura had admired in Jane, and few things gave her more enjoyment than paying special notice to it in these intimate moments. One of the only things Maura liked more was lavishing attention on what Jane would have considered the more feminine parts of her body. For instance although she had been an early admirer of Maura's breasts, Jane had never paid much attention to her own. She had never expected to derive much pleasure from them, but Maura had a way with her fingers and her mouth that made heretofore unremarkable things give way to the most spectacular sensations. Maura had shifted one of her hands to Jane's thigh, pulling the leg over her waist.

"These need to come off," Maura whispered, tugging at Jane's trousers. "I need to feel the skin of those muscular thighs before I kiss the sweat from them."

Jane groaned and sat up. "You need to finish undressing, too. Let's make use of that gift. Ahhhh," she sighed, as Maura knelt and started to unbutton her shirt. "Sake's alive. Sake is; I'm not sure I will be soon."

"You wicked thing," Maura chuckled.

"I'm the wicked thing?" Jane scoffed, resting her hands at Maura's waist as Maura straddled her. "I ain't the one who bought that garment, am I? Damn," she muttered, watching Maura hurry through undoing her deceptively complex skirt. "It must be very complicated to be you."

Maura laughed, stuck on a tight knot. "You have no idea."

Once Maura was freed of her outer clothes Jane kissed her, but the kiss broke off into a moan at the feeling of silk and smooth skin. She knew she ought to be taking the time to admire how the garment looked, and she tried her best. Her eyes drank in the sight, and under Maura's gentle guidance, she was able to take her time appreciating what the garment flaunted.

It was some time before they had settled for the night. Maura wrapped a blanket around herself to tend to the fire, making sure it was out.

Jane was waiting for her with a smirk when she returned to the tent and snuggled next to her. "Are we bundling, or is this your way of telling me you're attracted to me?"

They spent the next several days and nights reminding each other in myriad ways just how great that attraction was.

. . . . .

Riley tried to contain Lily when the train pulled in to Mesa, but desperate for her mothers, the little girl could not be restrained. She leapt to the platform as soon as the train stopped, and Jane ran to meet her, swooping her up in a hug.

"How's my little lamb?" she asked. "Did ya miss me?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Lily sniffed, holding Jane in a death grip.

"Aw, but did you have a nice time with Riley and Kay?"

Lily nodded and started to tell Jane about what they'd gotten up to in Flagstaff, but Maura had caught up by then and Lily threw herself over to embrace her while Jane still held her. Collin too had run over by this point, and completed the awkward but affectionate group hug.

There was a big to-do at Angela's that evening as she welcomed her grandchildren back home. She told Collin what a disaster the kitchen had been without him, and let Lily request whatever music she wanted. As always there was the special gift of seeing Jane interact with these children after years of assuming Jane would be content as a spinster aunt (and she certainly did love her nephews, Frankie and Riley's rowdy son and twins). While "maternal" still wasn't a word she was sure she'd apply to Jane, at least in the traditional sense, Angela was thrilled to see Jane's unabashed joy as Lily rode around the tavern on her back and Collin chatted up Maura about Flagstaff.

"Would either of you have ever believed it?" Angela asked Frost and Korsak, who were sitting at the bar. "Sometimes I still can't believe that's our Calamity Jane."

"Oh, I can," Frost chuckled. "You ever seen a mother like her before? She goes about it the way she goes about anything: her way, her style, top speed. Taking in a couple of orphaned relations is just how I'd have figured she'd do it, too. Jane may be tough on the outside, but there's a helper's heart in there."

Frost laughed when his own wife, Anna, veered their children away from Jane, who was now galloping around the tavern as if she were Lily's horse. The Frost family circle had grown wider when one of Anna's cousins came to tend the cattle on a stretch of land between Hollow Creek and Green Forge. He and his wife were frequent guests at Angela's tavern.

"I agree with Frost," said Korsak. "Jane has always been about protecting her tribe, and now that tribe includes Lily and Collin. She'd do anything for them, and if that's not a mother I don't know what is."

"Mother bear, more like," Angela sighed.

"Hey, that's it!" Frost said as Jane galloped over, Lily still on her back. "You're a big ole mamma bear is what you are, Calamity."

Right on cue, Jane's whinnying turned into a playful snarl. She maneuvered Lily to sit on the bar, then whirled around and smothered her with growly kisses. Lily giggled and squirmed until Angela whisked her away to ask about the trip.

Collin came up to ask if anyone wanted to play billiards and team up with him, and Frost and Korsak went to start the game. Jane said she'd catch the next one as Maura came to sit by her.

"How was your talk with Collin?" Jane asked, putting her arm around Maura. "Sounded like he had a good time, from what he told me on the ride over from the station."

"He missed home, and he missed us, but he enjoyed himself," Maura answered. "We were talking about his mother, actually. Kay brought her up, as it's been about four years since she passed. He said he felt bad because he couldn't remember much about her, and he asked how we'd like to be remembered. He's terrified at the prospect of forgetting us."

"Huh. I suppose it didn't occur to him that he'll know us a good sight longer than he did Ms. Martin?"

"I suppose not, but it got me thinking, anyway. Forgive the morbid memory, but it made me recall when Garrett's mother passed and we went to pick up her tombstone. Garrett asked me what I'd like inscribed on mine one day, and I said, 'Dr. Maura Fairfield: a beloved wife and mother who did the best she could with the talents she had.'"

Jane kissed her cheek and gave her a squeeze. "I reckon that still suits ya, except for the odious surname."

"And how about you, my darling Clementine? How would you like to be remembered?"

Jane contemplated it for a while, looking around the tavern. She watched Collin whoop in delight as Frost sank two billiard balls and Korsak groaned for his amusement. Anna and Angela talked while the latter brushed Lily's hair. Frankie and Riley tried to catch up while their boys started a game of marbles with the Frost children.

"Used to think my grave would say somethin' like 'Here lies Jane Johnson, born under a wanderin' star; died in vain searchin' for a killer.' I still like to wander, but with you as my companion. Whenever I die, I won't feel I did nothin' in vain, 'cause every step I took led me to you. And because of your love and your help, I felt I deserved takin' my father's name on again. So," she chuckled when Maura kissed her hand, "I suppose the greatest honor I could have would be in gettin' remembered as someone who did okay with the cherubs entrusted to her, who loved and was loved by you."

Scant few in town were aware of how deep ran the love between Calamity Jane and Dr. Isles, the medicine woman. Many decades into the future, even a century after their lives, it would have marveled them to see relationships similar to theirs being proudly paraded around—yet even in these eras of progressive attitudes, there would be those who would insist "Calam" and Maura Isles had shared nothing more than a sisterly bond.

A museum curator would discuss the proto-feminism in Constance Isles' work, highlighting the independence of her scholarly daughter and frequent subject, Maura, who had chosen to live in celibacy with her best friend rather than be shackled to a husband. A historian of the American west would praise Vincent Korsak for being unafraid to take on a black man and an old maid as his deputies, the latter having valiantly rebuffed another deputy (Joseph Grant) so she could focus on her noble work. Such interpretations were the rule, not the exception.

But maybe there would be a descendent many "great"s down Lily or Collin's line who would find some of Adelaide Johns' photographs, and letters exchanged between Jane and Maura, tucked away in a grandmother's attic filled with inherited family junk. In seeing their expressions and reading their words, maybe she would feel resonance in how she was starting to look at her own best friend. Sure her mother dismissed the idea and said that was just the flowery way women talked back then, and sure maybe they had just dressed up as a couple for a lark... but that didn't explain the family photographs, of which there were many.

Maybe the world at large would never know; maybe the love Jane and Maura had shared really was as small and insignificant in an eternal perspective as a star in the sky, or a pebble in the Grand Canyon. But to one lonely and desperate descendant, they offered an image of hope. To one person who would grow up filled with their confidence and share their story, Jane and Maura would be remembered as women who done their best with the love that was given to them.

And maybe that was enough. Maybe it was as simple as that.

Happy Trails - Until We Meet Again