Jack was missing. For three days.
He went out on a routine mission. That's what he said. It was nothing.
But then he never returned.
And it was cold.
Abagail sat with Elizabeth after they went out searching, well into the night.
They would warm up and Elizabeth would want to go out again.
But Abagail would stop her.
The town pitched in too. After work, all the men would search the area, going as far as 30 miles away. But they always came back with nothing.
Not a trace.
Elizabeth would teach the children about safety in the wilderness. How to stay warm. How to signal for help with just some sticks and leaves.
And then after the room would empty out, she would put her coat on and search.
Not having a clue of what she was doing.
Other men came in on Day three.
They said they were like him. Trained like him.
So why was he missing?
Shouldn't he know better?
Rip spent the nights with her now.
By Day four, she was losing strength but not hope.
The group became larger every night. They covered more.
But nothing.
Elizabeth never cried in front of anyone.
She forged ahead and stayed out till the sun rose.
She fell on branches and roots and could hear the coyotes howl but she refused to stop.
Her hands and feet were covered with bruises.
Her heart started hurting badly on Day six.
She stopped school short a few days as the boys wanted to join in the search.
She should have said no.
But she couldn't.
It was raining hard on Day eight.
The mud and deep puddles made it impossible to move quickly.
The ground was shifting under her feet as she scaled the mountain side. Men on both sides of her.
They wanted to return but Elizabeth refused, calling out his name.
On Day ten, it was officially called off.
It was over. For them. Not her.
The horses were put away, the volunteers asked to stop.
She was out at night, with Abagail, as they took their lanterns deep into the woods.
Area that was already covered but needed to be done again.
It was a routine now.
She was asked to stop.
He wouldn't so wouldn't.
On Day fifteen she wrote him a letter.
He was still here.
It was warmer so she was able to shed her coat and gloves.
Her boots were wearing now but she would get another pair.
She would do anything she could.
Abagail stopped her from going out on Day twenty.
It was snowing and impossible to do anything.
She screamed into the cold, grey sky.
On Day thirty two, she sat by the window, drinking tea.
It was snowing again and she had already been out for hours that morning.
A stack of letters was forming on her bed side but she insisted.
Abagail told her to let go.
That was impossible.
By Day forty five, the children hugged her.
Told her it was going to be ok.
They made a memorial by the tree.
It wasn't anything official but it was.
She looked up at the stars and told God to give her a sign.
It was quiet.
By fifty five, the sun was stronger.
The snow had melted and the children played.
She smiled when she watched the boys play hide and go seek with the new girl.
It was the first time in a long time.
Abagail took notice.
The trees were budding on Day sixty eight.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply and smelled the flowers blooming around her.
She took a walk up the familiar trail, tracing her steps.
Finding nothing new but still hoping.
It was on Day seventy five she visited the memorial.
It was decorated with flowers and homemade cards.
It was beautiful in its simplicity and yet it was missing something.
She pulled out a photo and placed it next to the wooden cross.
It never felt final.
The crowd gathered on Day eighty seven.
It was a new day, a new start.
A new school.
As she shuffled the children in and thanked the community she loved so deeply, she saw him on his horse, smiling, tipping his hat.
It was never going to fade from her mind.
A nice man came to town on Day ninety.
He was smart and funny and made her laugh.
And yet he reminded her too much of him.
She buried the letters on Day hundred and five.
There were eighty stacked neatly.
Of wishes. Of dreams. Of a future of never.
God wasn't listening too much now.
The town had put on a play on Day hundred and fifteen.
It was a dedication to him.
To his bravery.
She was squirming in her seat, unable to sit still.
It was all too real, too fresh.
No trace.
It was raining again on Day hundred and thirty.
The children were inside, making paper stars.
The wind was howling and it scared a few of the children so Elizabeth had them move to the front.
She looked out the window to see nothing.
Sometimes she thought maybe he would be there.
The sun was scorching on Day hundred and forty two.
School was let out early and Elizabeth took a short walk to the river.
She cooled herself down and felt a slight breeze as she did, closing her eyes for a moment.
It was a whisper.
School was let out on Day hundred and fifty seven.
A big party was thrown and Elizabeth took the children's presents' home, loving every single one.
She thought of writing.
Writing a great love story, one that never really came to be.
Abagail went away on Day hundred and seventy three.
A small vacation well deserved.
Elizabeth sat and wrote, while learning how to make the finest cookies.
Day two hundred and fifteen she saw her work in a small magazine.
She read it six times in a row.
It was her greatest work she had ever done.
She should have been happy, but all she could think about was how much she missed him.
It had been a very cold Day two hundred and forty one when Elizabeth took the tea kettle off the stove.
She took a few sips and went to grab the warm muffins when a letter caught her eye.
It was from her mother, asking her to come home.
Her father was sick.
Elizabeth packed up her things on Day two hundred and fifty two.
She was only going to leave for a few weeks.
She could never leave this place forever.
Her father passed away on Day two hundred and sixty nine.
She cried with her mother and sister and wondered if she was ever going to be ok.
She felt the wind on her neck as she looked up at the stars and she knew it was him.
She returned on Day two hundred and eighty.
To hugs and cards and flowers.
It still didn't feel right.
She visited the memorial and talked aloud.
Nothing had changed for her.
When the school opened on Day three hundred, she saw they had placed snowflakes all around the room.
It was for her.
For being such a great teacher.
For teaching them the world, for never giving up.
And when they came in, she kissed each one of them and believed it.
Never giving up.
It was raining again on Day three hundred and twenty two.
The puddles were deep, making mud pies everywhere people went.
She was barely able to get the café, making cookies and cakes for the new miners.
Abagail and her laughed about the flour spilling all over the floor.
The clouds gathered on Day three hundred and thirty one.
It looked like a big storm, one the town had never seen before.
Houses were being boarded up and children were home.
The wind screamed and the air was thick with black.
Elizabeth ushered the family inside the house that had no place to go, clutching the child tight.
It could have been worse when they looked on Day three hundred and thirty four.
Trees fell and some windows broken but it was fixed in a few days.
They were rebuilding.
Just like Elizabeth was.
She wore red on Day three hundred and sixty five.
A few gathered at the memorial.
She dropped some flowers and said a prayer.
The girls wore red bows and the boys, red ties.
It helped her get through the day.
It was the evening of Day three hundred and seventy one.
She was taking a walk to clear her head.
To try to maybe accept he was not coming back.
When she returned, Abagail was dancing with a nice man she met months before.
Everyone was moving on but her.
Her mother came to see her on Day three hundred and eighty five.
She was lonely and wanted her daughter.
Elizabeth took her around the valley and showed her the school house.
Her mother went home soon after that, not understanding how she could be without a maid.
It had been a rainy week and Day three hundred and ninety seven was no exception.
The rain had been coming down hard this year and she felt like God was still crying.
She put her boots on and headed to the schoolhouse, happy for the distraction.
The schoolhouse was warm and cozy as she worked on grading the children's spelling.
The afternoon of Day three hundred and ninety seven the children were working on the dinosaur drawings when Hannah said she saw something.
Everyone went to the window.
No one was there.
Elizabeth went back to work.
A few minutes later, they all jumped up again.
Elizabeth went back to the window. It was just the rain.
But then, a figure.
A very tall person.
Elizabeth rushed the children back to their desks.
It could be someone dangerous.
She told them to stay seated as she watched the figure come even closer, hard to see with the rain coming from all directions.
She watched from the window as the person moved closer and closer.
Without thinking, she huddled the children into a corner and watched again, one eye on the children, the other on the window.
She didn't feel scared.
The children hushed as she brought herself closer to the window, standing just a bit.
The person stopped.
And it was then.
At that very moment she realized.
Her gasp filled the room and before the children could ask, she flew open the door and ran.
The rain was soft against her skin, making her feel alive again.
It took a second maybe. She didn't know.
She didn't care.
He was here. Everywhere.
She felt his arms around her, his breath by her ear.
Was it even raining anymore?
He was warm, in the cold.
He was home.
In the evening of Day three hundred and ninety seven she sat with him.
He held her hand tight and kissed her cheek many times.
Everyone wanted to know.
He didn't want to tell.
Abagail made a small dinner and they both ate in quiet and with smiles.
The town threw a party on Day four hundred and one.
It was small like he asked.
There was pie, cake and games.
Elizabeth and Jack sat together, a child on both their laps.
Rip at his feet.
They talked about the future on Day four hundred and thirty three.
He asked for forever.
She told him he was always her forever.
The sun was bright on Day four hundred and seventy seven.
Everyone had gathered under the tree.
Wearing a red bow and hair down she said always.
He smiled and kissed her as the breeze blew gently.
God's whisper.
They walked towards everything.