Abby's lower back ached as she sat on the chair in the courtroom. She shifted uncomfortably, and placed a hand on her very round belly. The baby kicked, apparently, not liking the way she had been sitting for so long. But she must support her husband—the most popular prosecuting attorney in town.

It had taken only a few months for Nick to pass the bar and get his license back. The hardest part was trying to convince the judge that the school Nick had attended had lost his records in the fire two years past. Although she hated to lie, it was better than the alternative—telling the judge Nick was from the future.

Thankfully, the judge approved Nick to take the exam, and just as she knew would happen, he passed.

"...and that, gentlemen, is why Joel Roberts should be sent to prison for the murder of Brent Sharp." Nick squared his shoulders and looked point-blank at the jury of men.

Confidence surrounded Nick as he finished presenting his case. Sighing, she smiled. Nick was such a good lawyer, and he took so well to this time period. Occasionally, she worried that something might happen to send him back to the future, but then with all they have been through, and he hadn't been sent back, told her that Nick was here to stay.

The judge gave Nick a nod before aiming his attention at the jury. "Court is in recess until the jury has come to a verdict."

"All rise," the bailiff announced.

Abigail struggled to her feet, relieved to be off her butt...for now. Once the judge and jury had left the courtroom, Nick strolled toward her, a self-assured grin stretching across his face. She couldn't help but return a smile.

When he reached her, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

She chuckled. "Like I want to have our baby now! My back has been killing me all day today, and it's only getting worse. I tell you, if I don't have this baby today, I'm going to find the midwife and make her take this child out of me!" She swept her fingers lightly over his hair, careful not to mess it up. "But enough about me, how are you feeling, my dear?"

"Like I'm about to win this case."

"Well of course you are. Since you are the best prosecuting attorney in the state of California, you are blowing away the other lawyers and they don't stand a chance going up against you. I'm very proud to have you as my husband."

He shrugged. "What can I say... I solved the hardest murder case in my life, thanks to you. Now I feel like a pro."

The baby kicked again, and this time Nick felt it since she was still pressed up against him. He withdrew slightly and glanced down at her round belly. His hand smoothed over the lump in her dress.

"Sweetie, your belly is hard. Are you in labor?"

"How would I know? I've never been pregnant before."

"You know, he's going to be a line-backer."

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, I was hoping he'd take after his father."

"Or," Nick kissed her nose, "she is going to be a ballerina, and that's why she has such strong legs."

"Now that I can agree on."

Keeping his arm around her, he turned them toward the aisle and side-by-side they left the courtroom. Several journalists and photographers huddled close to the door, and bombarded them as they walked out into the hallway. Questions flew all around them, but Nick just held up his hand, shook his head, and repeated, "No comment."

A few flashbulbs went off, and stars appeared in her eyes. She closed her eyes to ward off the bright light, yet stars still danced behind her lids. Good grief, she would never get used to the modern-day camera...not like Nick had.

Nick led them out the door and to his new cherry-red motorcar. He insisted on getting a new model since he didn't like how her father's vehicle stalled every time he tried to start the blasted thing. Once he helped her in, he hurried around to the driver's side and climbed in.

"Are you hungry?"

She nodded and took a ragged breath as a cramp rippled across her belly. "Starving."

"Do you want to go home or to the diner just up the street?"

"The diner, please. I don't think I can wait until we get home. I'm hungry, but for some reason, I feel full." She patted her belly. "It must be because I'm so big."

"You aren't that big, my love. But I'll take you to the diner to eat. Anything your heart desires is yours."

Sighing heavily, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. The wind blew against her face and through her hair from the convertible-style motorcar. My heart's desire. The same words her grandmother had used when blessing the heart-shaped locked.

Abigail touched the necklace hanging around her neck, slowly rolled her head and peered at her husband. Nick Marshal was her heart's true desire. Every time she looked at him, he grew more handsome, and her love for him grew deeper. He was the perfect husband—everything she could have ever dreamed of in a man. Not only was he helpful and compassionate, but he listened to her and helped her think out problems that arose. Being raised with her controlling father and his friend, Harry, who wanted to be another father-figure to her, she was surprised she hadn't been smothered to death.

Before reaching the diner, they passed the newspaper building. Harry had taken over as the owner, and the newspaper was flourishing wonderfully. He was even courting a woman, and Abigail knew things were getting serious between the two. It made her happy to know that Harry was finally happy with his life.

Even her uncle had changed for the better. Both he and his wife were better people than they'd been before. Uncle Alexander was more kindhearted and treated Abigail like part of the family. She still couldn't tolerate her cousin, though. Nick mentioned Anthony would soon start gambling and would probably end up in jail. That didn't surprise her at all.

Nick parked the car then hurried to help Abby from the vehicle. He slipped his arm around her waist as they walked into the diner. She took slow steps as the weight in her belly she was carrying seemed to hurt her legs...and backside.

He found them a table, and within minutes had ordered them sandwiches. Once the waitress left, he heaved a breath, reached across the table and took hold of Abigail's hands.

"What are you thinking? You've suddenly become so quiet."

She tilted her head and studied the caring man she loved with all her heart. "I'm just thinking how happy I am, and how much has changed since you came into my life."

Smiling, he rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles. "You have definitely changed my life for the better."

"And you have changed the Carlisle Empire for the better."

"Well, I couldn't have history repeating itself, now could I? Not when I fell in love with a ghost."

She chuckled. "I'm so happy you changed history."

"Not as happy as I am."

She glanced out the window and stared blindly at the people walking by and the cars moving up and down the road. "I still think about Cassandra from time to time and wonder how she's fairing in prison."

"I'm sure they are treating her like all the other prisoners."

Abigail squeezed Nick's hands as another cramp tightened her belly. Abby shifted in her seat, trying to ease the discomfort. "Thank you for making her prison stay comfortable. You really didn't have to make sure she got the best cell, you know."

"Yes, I did. She's never had the privilege to feel like a Carlisle, so I thought it would be nice to give her a little taste—even if it is behind bars."

She nodded. "I talked to Lily the other day, and she had just come from visiting her daughter. Lily says Cassandra still has so much hate in her heart."

"Can you blame her?" Nick shrugged. "But she didn't need to blame you for that. I'll make sure that if she is released from prison, she never goes near you again."

"When do you think she'll be released?"

"Ten, maybe twenty years. It all depends on her lawyer...which I'll never be."

The waitress brought their plates, and Abigail didn't hesitate to grab her sandwich and take a big bite out of it. Across the table, Nick laughed at her eagerness, but he delved into his sandwich, too.

After a couple of bites, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen, hard, nothing like the nagging cramps she'd had all afternoon. She dropped the sandwich on the plate and clutched her stomach.

"Abby? What's wrong?"

"Oh, just a little—" Another pain sliced through her, ten times harder. "Ohhh..." She bent forward, nearly banging her head on the tabletop.

"Abby!" Nick rushed to her side. "Is it the baby? Is the baby coming?"

"I...I think...soooo..." she ended with a groan.

Nick motioned to a waitress and tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. "For the food," he added as he lifted Abigail into his arms and raced out the door.

"No, Nick. I can't have the baby yet. You still have to return to court."

"We don't know when the jury will come to a decision, but I'm quite sure the judge will be lenient with me since my wife is having our first baby."

He set her in the car, closed the door, and then darted around to his side. After starting the car, he pushed on the gas pedal. The car sped down the road. Groaning, she clutched the door.

"Will you slow down? I don't think I'm going to have the baby before we get home, since it's only four blocks away."

Nick cringed and eased up on the gas pedal. He glanced at her and gave her a wink. "Sorry. I'm just excited."

More pains encased her belly, causing her to breathe funny. Good grief! Was labor really this bad? She'd heard stories...Lily had even told her a few, but Abigail never realized... "Ohhh—" she moaned and hugged her swollen belly.

Everything afterward passed in a whirlwind of excitement. Once Nick reached home and whisked her inside, he shouted instructions to the servants to quickly locate the midwife they'd been working with these past few months.

As he helped her undress and slip on the nightgown, his hands shook. Then again, so did hers. She clutched his fingers as another pain sliced through her, making her cry out.

"I don't know, sweetie," Nick said breathlessly. "I think we need to take you to the hospital."

When the pain subsided momentarily, she took a deep breath and met his worried gaze. "Are you addled? Why would I need to go to the hospital?"

"To have the baby."

She shook her head. "Women don't go to hospitals to have babies. The doctors there aren't properly trained like midwives are."

"That just seems so strange," he muttered. "In my time, most women wouldn't dream of going anywhere else but a hospital."

The clock seemed to slow as Abigail lay on her bed and waited for the midwife. Nick stayed next to her, sitting on a chair as he held her hand...and issued strange commands on how to breathe. She wished he'd just shut up for a while.

Finally the midwife came and scooted Nick out of the room, telling him to go downstairs to wait. She instructed the servants to boil water and get her clean towels. By this time, the pain was so severe the language coming out of Abigail's mouth would have made a sailor blush. A few times she even blamed Nick for getting her this way.

It didn't take long before she wanted Nick back. Gazing into his handsome face relaxed her and calmed her fears. But the midwife insisted it just wasn't proper to have her husband there. Not proper? Since he helped get her pregnant, why was it suddenly not proper?

The pushing soon began, and she could have screamed. Actually, she did a few times, followed by more cuss words. Soon her body pushed out the bundle of joy...of wailing joy.

"It's a girl!" the midwife announced.

Tears welled in Abigail's eyes as she beheld her daughter—her purple daughter. It didn't matter the color, because the beautiful little baby had a full head of black hair. As she held the bundled little girl against her, she realized she had her father's nose, and his adorable chin.

It still took several minutes before the midwife cleaned up the baby—and Abigail—before the midwife deemed her ready for Nick to come in and see his baby daughter. When he entered the room and his gaze landed on the baby—who wasn't as purple now—wrapped in a white baby blanket, he reverently walked toward his daughter. His eyes misted as he reached out and gently touched her cheek.

"She's beautiful." He looked at Abigail. "And she looks just like you."

"Not all of me. I think she has your nose and chin."

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning down to kiss Abigail on the lips. "She's perfect."

"Just like her father." She peered at her daughter, running a soft finger over the baby's clutched hands. Five fingers on each hand...just as she should have. "If it's all right with you, I want to name her Elizabeth Syeira, after your mother and my gypsy grandmother."

When Nick's gaze met hers again, a tear slid down his cheek. "I think that's a wonderful name for her."

She scooted over on the bed to make room for him. He sat on the edge and wrapped one arm around Abigail while resting the other on the baby. She buried her face against her husband's chest, inhaling deeply of him. His scent. Sandalwood and musk.

Nick raised his head and leaned forward, meeting her seeking lips in a long kiss. Tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Her family. All three of them together were a pure miracle. Never did she think she could feel so much joy—so much love.

All was right with the world because they were together—as their relatives had both promised. From here on out, they would live happily-ever-after, just as the fairytales suggested.

THE END