With this segment of Chapter Fourteen of Repairing the Legacy, we continue the serialization of Repairing the Legacy. This is a rough draft work in progress and may not reflect the final form. Time period: set after the ending of The Martiniere Legacy main trilogy. I’m breaking longer chapters into sections for readability. This is the first part of Chapter Fourteen. There will be six parts to this chapter.

New to the series? Chapter order:

Chapter One, Section One

Return of the Prodigal Son (2 parts)

Conversations and a Dinner (2 parts)

Dancing into Change (2 parts)

Sisterly Compromises (3 parts)

Conspiracies at the Rodeo (3 parts)

Passing the Baton (4 parts)

Research Complications (3 parts)

Chasing After Shadows (3 parts)

Fifth Anniversary Present (3 parts)

Mariah (5 parts)

Shadows, Redux (3 parts)

Accidents Happen (4 parts)

Maternal Memories (4 parts)

April, 2070

GABE

Gabe was conducting Martiniere business in Seattle, covering for Brandon, when Kris went into labor. The meetings kept him in Seattle until early evening, trying to get everything handled so that both he and Bran could deal with family.

The sun had set over Pendleton when his jet landed at the airport, a welcome spring drizzle making the tarmac glisten under the airport lights.

“Everything okay with Kris?” he asked the security head who escorted him to the waiting SUV.

“As far as we know.”

Not much of an answer, but at least it meant the worst hadn’t happened.

Once settled into the middle seat row while security drove, Gabe leaned back, nervous. Ruby hadn’t messaged him yet. That could mean labor complications—or that she had her hands full managing both Lily and Mike. He wasn’t even sure if Ruby was at the hospital. Bran might have asked her to take the kids to Moondance, get them out of the way. Lots of possibilities.

It made sense to stop at the hospital first, find out what was happening with Kris.

Gabe tapped his fingers on the seat. Pendleton traffic wasn’t like Seattle, but it still seemed to take too long before they reached the hospital. Security in the SUV handed him off to another set of security stationed at the hospital entrance, headed by a young woman who followed Gabe as he strode through the reception area, and reached the auto-receptionist.

Gabe brushed his index finger across the screen to activate the speaker. “Brandon and Kris Martiniere, labor and delivery. Gabriel Martiniere. I’m on the list.”

That announcement brought a live human scurrying through the sliding glass doors to meet him. Nurse, chunky, male, carrying himself with the authoritative aura that indicated years of experience. The young security person excused herself to sit in the waiting area.

“You’ll need to wear PPE. Just a coverall, no need for masking if you test clear.” The nurse eyed Gabe’s bespoke suit. Unusually formal for Pendleton, but it couldn’t be helped. The Seattle to Pendleton flight was too short for him to change safely, especially given turbulence, and Gabe had rushed directly from his last meeting to the jet Justine had waiting for him. She wasn’t here because Donald was sick—again.

“I’m good with that. I would have changed, have my own supply, but—” Gabe shrugged. “Any idea how the labor has progressed?”

“Mother is still in surgery. Delivery by c-section.” The nurse swabbed Gabe’s nose. When it came back negative for common viruses and infections, he handed Gabe a suit to pull on over his clothing, relaxing slightly at the ease with which Gabe donned it.

Oh, still in surgery doesn’t sound good.

But Brandon and Kris finally had their second child. At least this pregnancy had succeeded, in spite of everything. In spite of pressure from Justine and everyone else in their close family to think about adoption, settling for just Lily, anything other than the cycles of pregnancy failure that Kris endured, hoping for another child of their own.

Kris wanted it to be this way. And if Kris wanted it, then Brandon did.

I just hope—damn it, I hope they don’t think they have to make more babies. This hell has to end. For Kris’s sake.

Gabe followed the nurse down the hallway to a private room. Ruby sat in a hospital recliner, crooning at the bundle in her arms, the tip of her long, silver-streaked red braid escaping the loose surgery bonnet on her head. Mike and Lily looked on, both wearing full PPE, like Ruby. Gabe hesitated, suddenly struck by the likeness between Mike and Lily—despite the difference in skin color, the features of great-grandfather’s clone and biological great-granddaughter were so similar. Perhaps more so due to their closeness in age.

Then Ruby looked up, grinning.

Lily whirled. “Grandpa! Come see my baby brother!”

Happy Lily. A relief, because almost-ten-year-old Lily had been so cranky and jealous at the prospect of a baby brother. Especially since they would share a birth month, and the baby’s due date had been set for near Lily’s birthday.

Lily ran to Gabe and hugged him. He picked Lily up and spun her around—their normal greeting when Lily wasn’t plagued by the voices that turned her into a raging fury. Spinning was something that Saul had done with Louisa—and with Mama. His dancer granddaughter grinned, giggling as she pointed her toes while he spun her. Just like Mama did when Saul had spun her around.

And that giggle. So much like Mama’s. Louisa’s. Oh God, Gabe wished Saul and Angelica had survived to see their descendants. Even if his grandkids were Philip’s biologically, not Saul’s.

“Gabriel. Don’t mess up your back!” But Ruby’s chiding tone, also typical for this greeting between grandfather and granddaughter, faded quickly as she kept smiling at him. “Come see your grandson.”

He set Lily down and knelt in front of Ruby, holding out his arms.

She eased the small bundle into them. “Meet Mr. Ronald Marcus Martiniere.”

A solemn-faced infant gazed up at him. Subtle differences between Ronald and Lily, Ronald and Brandon. Skin a shade darker than Lily’s. The Martiniere forehead, brows, nose, and chin. Kris’s lips. Full head of curly dark hair. Chubby and healthy despite coming four weeks early.

Another gorgeous, lovely, Martiniere baby descended from him, like Brandon and Lily.

My grandson.

He had a granddaughter and a grandson now.

Descendants.

Funny, he didn’t feel that old.

“So they settled on Ronald Marcus?” He didn’t look away from Ronald’s steady gaze, the infant studying his face.

“Ronald for Gramps, and Marcus for you.”

“Good.” The first choices—Saul Gabriel, or Ronald Gabriel, had been names Gabe vetoed, hard. Like he did with any Family member who wanted to name their children after him and asked first. Right or wrong, he felt the names Gabriel or Gabrielle/Gabriella ill-wished anyone related to him.

And, of course, no one wanted to name a child after Philip.

But Marcus was safe. Gabe couldn’t explain why, but he’d given that middle name to Mike at his adoption, and recommended Marcus/Marcia to those who wanted to honor him.

“Grandpa, can I hold him?” Lily squirmed next to Gabe, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Just a moment.” Gabe snapped his fingers to activate the small recorder cam that lurked behind his ear. As it flew out, he cradled Ronald and grinned up at the bot, getting several shots.

A similar picture to the ones he’d taken with Brandon, then Lily, as newborns.

“Whatcha doing, Grandpa?”

“I took pictures like this of your dad, then you, to send out as birth announcements to the Family. Now it’s Ronnie’s turn.” Gabe flicked through the picture projections until he found the one he wanted, added text, then sent it out.

Ronald Marcus Martiniere, born April 7th, 2070. My grandson.

A portentous date in so many ways.

“Now can I hold him?” Lily bounced impatiently.

“Sit in the chair first.” Ruby got up.

Gabe noticed the wistful expression on Mike’s face. “First you, then Mike. Sister, then uncle.” He was not not not going to say great-grandfather.

Once Lily was settled, he eased Ronnie into her lap. Ruby hovered watchfully, waiting for her to tire—which happened soon enough.

“Okay.” Lily squirmed. Ruby eased Ronnie out of Lily’s arms as Lily bounced up, and Mike took her place. Teenage gawkiness hadn’t really set in with Mike yet—surprising, because Gabe remembered himself as being lanky and awkward at fourteen. Then again, Gabe got his height from Angelica, not Philip—Philip was slightly shorter than Saul, at least from what Gabe remembered. The Martiniere twins had been short men.

Mike beamed down at Ronnie, his face softening. Ruby stood and put one arm around Gabe’s waist, as Lily settled in another chair, watching a video on the new comm Brandon had given her.

Ruby leaned over to whisper into Gabe’s ear. “They had to do a hysterectomy. Bran is with Kris—they let him stay.”

Gabe nodded. “Lily’s been cooperative so far?” he murmured to her.

“For Lily.”

Ruby seemed to be able to handle Lily’s volatile behaviors best of all the Family. She negotiated children like she did horses or difficult interactions between Family members in her role as the Matriarch—deftly, calmly, and without drama.

She should have been able to have more children than just Brandon.

And that thought brought up memories tied to this date. The fact that the two of them only had Brandon was squarely Gabe’s fault, no matter what damned Philip had done.

April 7th, 2036. Thirty-four years ago. The date I gave into Philip’s demands that I divorce Ruby.

Gabe swallowed hard and squeezed Ruby tighter. She glanced at him, raising her brows questioningly.

He tightened his lips and shook his head. They could discuss this later—if Ruby remembered to bring it up.

But he hoped she didn’t.

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