SPRINGTIME PROMISES *complete*

CHAPTER 35: GUARDIANS OF TIME

Lanecea stood in the dim nursery, her eyes fixated on the empty crib that once held little Harry Thompson. The room was unusually quiet. Allace and Lillie were busy in the adjoining chamber, softly tending to the remaining babies, their gentle hums blending with the faint crackling of the fireplace. Dorothy Marie, a woman with kind eyes and a calm demeanor, lingered near the door, observing the scene. She had been with Lanecea shortly before the siblings, Allace and Lillie arrived, and her loyalty was unwavering.

Ulrick's arms were wrapped around Lanecea from behind, his presence both protective and comforting. The warmth of his body against hers was grounding, but there was a sadness in his voice as he whispered, "The crib is empty now."

Lanecea nodded, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings on the wooden frame. She felt a mixture of emotions—relief that baby Harry had been successfully reunited with Rella and Margaret, but also a deep sense of longing. Each life she touched, each soul she rescued from the forgotten pages of history, left an imprint on her heart. Harry was no different, but now his journey had shifted, and her focus had to move forward.

"Allace, Lillie, Dorothy..." Lanecea called softly.

The three women appeared at the door almost immediately, their faces warm with understanding. They had seen this before—the quiet before Lanecea embarked on another mission. There was a knowing exchange between them, a silent acknowledgment that their work was far from over.

Dorothy stepped forward, her eyes meeting Lanecea's with a steady resolve. "We've got everything under control here," she assured her. "You focus on what needs to be done. We'll manage the babies." Her smile was kind but carried a sense of duty.

Allace and Lillie nodded in agreement. "Dorothy's right," Allace said, her hands resting on her hips as she glanced toward the other cribs. "The babies are safe with us, and we'll be ready for baby Edward."

Lanecea smiled at them, her heart swelling with gratitude. These women had become her family in many ways. The trust between them was unspoken, but it was solid. They knew the stakes, the delicate balance between past and present that Lanecea navigated with each rescue, and they were ready to shoulder the responsibility while she continued her work.

"Thank you," Lanecea said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't do this without you." She took a deep breath and turned her gaze back to the crib, knowing that soon enough, another forgotten soul would fill it. The cycle never truly ended, and neither did her mission.

Ulrick shifted beside her, his presence still comforting but now laced with a quiet tension. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. 

"You know I would go with you," he said, his voice low and steady. "But I believe Storm is the better choice for this mission."

Lanecea met his gaze, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"His accent," Ulrick replied, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "You're heading to 1761 Quebec. New France. I'm German—it would raise too many questions. Storm, on the other hand, can blend in much more easily. And..." he hesitated for a moment, his voice softening, "I know you miss him."

Lanecea smiled, a small laugh escaping her lips despite the gravity of the conversation. It was true—she missed Storm. He had accompanied her on so many of her adventures, standing by her side through both triumphs and failures. His presence had a way of grounding her, much like Ulrick's, but there was something about Storm's strength, his steady hand, that gave her an extra layer of confidence when he was at her side.

"You're right," she admitted, sighing softly. "Storm would be the better choice on this mission. I'll send word for him to join me."

Ulrick nodded, satisfied. "I'll make the necessary arrangements for you," he said. "But first, there's something else you need."

Lanecea raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What's that?"

"How good are you ladies at sewing?" Ulrick turned to the trio of women by the door, his tone shifting into something more playful.

"We manage," Allice assured him.

Lanecea grinned, catching on to what Ulrick was getting at. "I'll need to blend in," she explained. "I can't draw suspicion when I get to 1761. My usual attire won't exactly fit the period."

Lillie glanced between the other women and then back at Lanecea. "You need a dress for New France then?" she asked, already sizing her up for the task.

"Exactly," Lanecea nodded. "Something that won't stand out too much, but still allows me to move easily. I can't risk anyone suspecting that I'm...not from their time."

Dorothy crossed her arms thoughtfully. "We'll get to work on it right away. We still have some fabric from the last batch."

Lanecea smiled again, feeling the weight on her shoulders lighten slightly. "Thank you, and, Ulrick," she added, turning to face him fully, "will you please inform James Kelley that we'll need ten more cribs soon? There's no doubt in my mind that they'll be filled before long."

Ulrick gave her a knowing look. "Consider it done."

The room fell into a comfortable silence as Lanecea glanced around the nursery one last time. The glow of the firelight flickered over the soft fabrics and wooden toys scattered about, a temporary peace that belied the enormity of what they were all involved in. She knew this wouldn't be the last time she stood in this room, looking at the empty crib of a child she had rescued from the forgotten corners of history, but for now, the path ahead was clear.

"I'll leave as soon as the dress is ready," Lanecea said finally, the determination in her voice returning. "There's no time to waste."

Ulrick pulled her close, pressing his lips to her forehead once more, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. "Be careful," he murmured against her skin.

"I will," she promised, stepping out of his embrace. She looked back at Dorothy, Allace, and Lillie. "I'm trusting you three to keep things running smoothly while I'm gone."

"You have nothing to worry about," Dorothy said with a wink. "We've got it covered."

Lanecea took one last look at the empty crib. She felt the familiar ache of longing—longing for a world where these children could live their lives, grow, and experience the fullness of their existence, but that wasn't their fate, and it wasn't hers to change. All she could do was give them a place where they could be remembered, where their stories wouldn't be lost to time.

With one final glance at the room, Lanecea turned and made her way toward the door, Ulrick following closely behind. As they stepped into the hallway, Lanecea's mind was already on the next mission, her thoughts turning toward Storm and what lay ahead in 1761.

The future—or rather, the past—awaited.