#external forces

Even back then, people knew about the "outside forces".

“Connection: a relationship in which a person, thing, or idea is linked or associated with something else.” “Community: a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.” “Fellowship: friendly association, especially with people who share one’s interests.” “Soulmate: a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.” –…

Its bed is the forest. It wakes and leaps out, Shaking and overturning its bed.

It rushes into the cornfield— A city of destitute mothers, Crying and running; Each cornstalk a mother, hugging Her child of a corn-ear, shivering. The cornfield, a city of mothers, Prays in vain for the bankrupt sun. Mothers fall smothering their children At the very gates of the city.

Its cutting hoofs— A thousand-footed caravan in the desert— Prick and grind the elephant-hide Of the waters into dust. Waters groan like skinned-off animals.

It grabs the sunny back of the road Like a pitiless child a cat, And hurls it up in the air— Twists it before the nose of the hiding sun, Bullying, "Do you know who I am?

----

Tornado

Leon Srabian Herald  1896–1976

----

You can find part one and two: HERE.

External Forces: Part 3 - 

Laying his head against her currently flat belly, Jamie sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. They hadn’t spoken since Claire’s confession, he’d simply curled up beside her and let a dull calm overtake his previously ignited ire.

Pregnant.

Dhia.

Unable to fully grasp the concept, Jamie had taken up his place. His ear right next to Claire’s womb. He hoped something might pass between the two of them, something more tangible than fragile words.

Claire, worn down by the events of the day, had slid her hands through Jamie’s wild hair and slumped her shoulders against the headboard. Semi-relaxed, she’d managed to convince herself that Jamie wouldn’t lay a hand to her now -- lost as he was to the imagining of their child growing steadily inside her.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered, a large lump forming in her throat at the thought of things lost to this new reality.

“When…” he began, his voice wavering as he spoke the words, “when will ye ken for certain?”

Counting backwards, Claire began to think about the actual dates. She was *never* late. In all the years since her courses had begun, she had never been even a day behind. It was like clockwork.

“I know, now. For sure,” she returned, her voice steady and certain. “It’s been t-three,” she stammered, trying to be accurate with her timings. “Just about three weeks since I should have...had my courses.”

Thinking over the options in his head, Jamie contemplated what returning to Leoch might entail.

They could of course. It would be safer there. Colum might not be particularly pleased by his newly wedded status, but nor could he annul their marriage. Dougal, however, remained a loose canon.

Claire’s mind was equally busy. Whatever her original plans, she could hardly run away now. It had been clear from the moment she’d announced her news how excited Jamie was at the prospect of becoming a father. Knowing how desperately she wanted a child, there wasn’t a chance she’d take that opportunity away from him.

...and no way she would compel Frank to raise another man's child. Letting her hands flop against the rough mattress, Claire allowed all thoughts of returning to the 20th century to drain from her bones.

Her heart trembled and stuttered, the numb feeling snaking through her veins from her toes upwards.

Claire watched as Jamie viewed her lower half as if it’d suddenly developed magical properties, his soft breathing washing over her stomach, through the thin material of her shift. She didn’t need to see his face to know how he’d look. His eyes would be shining with tears, his mouth twitching upwards in a childlike smile as he contemplated their future.

He already loved her.

She could feel it emanating from every inch of him.

Shock pulsed violently through her, and she had to ball her hands into fists to stop her belly from betraying her. Having spent so much time fighting against the tide, pushing away all feelings of contentment, Claire had never once considered the truth of the matter. A truth that had so vividly, now, made itself apparent.

“I need some air,” she whispered, her throat battling to let the words out whilst keeping the bile at bay.

Shaking her legs free of the covers she’d tangled herself in, Claire fled the room, not waiting to see if Jamie followed her or not.

Grabbing her robe from the chair, she pulled it around her shoulders as she marched down the stairs, ignoring the silence her approach brought to the men still hovering in the tavern below.

Throwing the doors open, she dashed into the night, her bare feet sinking into the thin mud path that lay at the entrance. Paying little mind to much else, Claire listened for the steady babble of the stream, the calming ebb and flow of its waters calling her forward.

--

Rising in the sky above her, the moon shone through the boughs of the trees, lighting the water at her feet as she splashed her toes, the cold spray keeping her completely in the present.

Closing her eyes, Claire let the minutes slip away, all thoughts banished as the chilly wind whipped through the branches, lifting her hair and sweeping it across her face.

From a distance, Jamie watched, his eyes focused solely on Claire. Already he understood her dilemma. He knew well the clouds of her past. Emotions running high, she’d been brought to the castle, threatened, held captive - albeit politely - and then forced to marry him without truly having time to process her owns wants and desires.

He was fortunate. He’d known from the beginning that he wanted her. So to have her as his bride and now, to have a family to call his own -- Jamie knew the fates had been on his side.

Claire was not so lucky. Leaving her be, Jamie perched himself on a root and simply watched. Just in case she needed him.

As the numbness began to subside, Claire felt rather than saw Jamie behind her, her silent protector.

The thought made her smile, her heart warming at the reminder. Whatever her *predicament* Jamie was ever vigilant, ensuring she came to no harm. Shaking her head, she dipped her fingers into the burn. She should have realised sooner, the signs had been there all along, written clearly over every action Jamie had ever bequeathed to Claire.

Just how long he’d felt this way, she could only guess.

“Since ye wept in my arms...at Leoch,” Jamie answered, startling Claire from her quiet contemplation as she swirled around, sending splashes of water up in the air.

“So long?” She questioned, ignoring the fact that she hadn’t realised she’d voiced her thoughts out loud.

“Aye, Claire. How about you?”

Their pact suddenly reared its head as Jamie’s eyes lowered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and dipped his head as he communicated silently with Claire.

She knew she couldn’t lie.

Lost in the moment, Claire’s breath caught in her throat…

‘Check mate!’ Frank’s voice filtered through the darkness, distant memories renewed as Claire fought to understand Jamie’s question. ‘Nowhere else to go now, Claire!’ He jested, triumphantly.

…”Not at long as you,” she heard herself saying, her hands trembling with the assurance of the evidence she presented to herself.

‘The truth will out, Claire. Just be honest with yourself, and all will be right with the world.’

This time it was Uncle Lamb. His voice, the voice of reason, stilled her pounding heart as she glanced back up at Jamie just as he looked back to her.

“Do ye ken when, exactly?” He probed, his eyes alight with a sort of mild joy that he didn’t want to fully bask in until he’d heard her actually admit it.

“I liked you at Leoch,” she began, sensing Jamie’s excitement, watching as he pursed his lips, hurting just a little as disappointment crept in. “B-but that led me to marry you. No matter what,” she clarified, eager to bring back his elation, “I wouldn’t have gone through with it had Dougal suggested anyone else.”

“Aye…” Jamie whispered, coaxing her to continue.

“That night,” reaching out her hand, she bid him forwards, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as he came to her, “as the dust settled and the world quieted around us,” shaking away her poetic notions, Claire gripped Jamie’s fingers tightly as she licked her lips and took one final --deep-- breath. “That was the first time I allowed myself to contemplate what love might actually look like. T-that was the night...honestly and truly...that I fell in love with you, Jamie Fraser.”

Shuddering with the weight of her confession, Claire slid forward, catching herself in Jamie’s arms as he pulled her against his chest.

She could feel his heart, its strong pulse beating against her chest as her wrapped his large palm around her neck and swayed her with the breeze as the evening settled around them.

“I love you,” she half whispered-half cried, tears rolling down her face and onto his shirt as she voiced the words again and again, the truth finally broken free of its cage. “I love you.”

“Then let me take ye home, Claire, please…” Jamie returned, his spirit lightened by Claire’s admission.

“Yes, Jamie,” she replied, her thumb twirling Jamie’s wedding ring around her finger, “take me home…”

Vintage program for THE BOB HOPE SHOW held May 19, 1952 at the Long Beach Municipal Auditorium in Southern California. Found on Ebay.

An example of how Dean was constantly being overshadowed and NOT by Jerry. On the cover page they even put Dean last! Couldn't they have put them together immediately under Bob Hope's photo and under the photos of the two actresses since in the program their names were written after Bob Hope's name? And why did they put Jerry's photo, once again, before Dean's on the inside pages? Dean was before Jerry BY LAW (Martin & Lewis not Lewis & Martin). Or they would post just one photo with the two of them together.

Dean and Jerry with Hal Wallis, 1948