Chapter 12
Moonlight filtered through the curtains and Jack yawned, stretching his arms over his head. He walked over to the stove, pausing when a floorboard creaked under his weight, and added one more log to the fire.
Only seven pieces of wood left. The pile in the corner dwindled with each passing day. How many days had it been? Two? Five? Not that it mattered. But what would he do if the supply ran out in the middle of the night? He couldn't leave and go back to town for more. Not until Elizabeth woke.
Muscles aching, he lowered himself once more at the bedside and took her hand in his own. Her stoic face now showed hints of pink, but her hands - still cold. Those hands worried him the most. What if she had permanent nerve damage to her fingers? How would she write? How would she teach? Jack pushed the thought from his mind. She was stronger than that. She wouldn't let a simple setback derail her dreams. She was a Thatcher. Well, almost a Thornton, actually.
If she woke up.
An owl hooted in the distance and another answered. Shadows danced on the walls of the cabin as he adjusted the blankets, and Jack remembered the night of Rosemary and Lee's wedding. The dark silhouettes on the walls of the church as he and Elizabeth sat, soaking wet on the back pew. Jack had never told her, but the moment she accepted his proposal and stretched out her arms to embrace him, her shadow, rising behind her, resembled that of a bird. A beautiful, graceful swan spreading its wings in flight.
A bird. Feathers. What was it? Something from an Emily Dickinson Poem.
Ah yes, now he remembered.
"'Hope is the thing with feathers.'" He rubbed the back of Elizabeth's hand with his thumb.
"'That perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.'"
Rubbing tears away, he forced a grin. "I bet you didn't know I remembered that poem, did you? I actually keep a copy of it in my pocket, to remind me of that day, when I almost lost you to the skunk."
The door creaked behind him, and he turned his head. Frank, Abigail, Lee, Rosemary, Charlotte, Tom and Julie, Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher, even Voila, poured into the cabin, their heads lowered and lips drawn as Frank crossed the room and dipped a candle into the stove.
Jack rubbed his eyes. He was dreaming. Yes, that was it. It was far too late for anyone to be out here.
"Ma, what…"
"You must be exhausted if you didn't hear us knocking." Charlotte smoothed his cowlick.
He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "But it has to be at least midnight. It's dangerous out here at this hour."
"Shhhh." Abigail touched his shoulder. "It's only nine o'clock. And we were fine. Nothing out here except for owls and rabbits."
"I think the bears must be hibernating already, huh Jack?" Lee gave him a pat on the back.
"I, I hope-" Rosemary turned away and blew her nose into a monogrammed lace handkerchief. For once, his childhood friend was at a loss for words.
Elizabeth's parents filed in behind Julie and Tom, and was that…it was! Wrapped in a blanket in Mr. Thatcher's arms, good ol' Rip.
"We thought you might want some company while you waited." Mr. Thatcher set the dog on the floor, where he stretched and let out a bark. "I hope you don't mind my bringing him. I could hear him howling in the jail from outside."
Shaking his spotted coat, Rip lumbered towards Jack and raised his head.
Jack turned to Abigail as Frank lit her candle. "I...I don't know what to say. This was your doing, I assume."
"Well, the thought did cross my mind, but no, it wasn't my idea." She lit Viola's candle.
"It was hers."
Jack's mouth slacked, and he pivoted towards Viola. A curtain of auburn curls obscured her face as she held a hand around the flame. She turned, lit Julie's, and took her sister's hand.
Wait, how could they be standing next to each other, after everything that happened at the cafe?
And Julie, holding Viola's hand? This had to be a dream.
"Go ahead." Julie nodded. "It's alright."
Viola's chin trembled as she raised her head. Her curls parted to reveal a bright red hand-shaped mark on her left cheek "I'm…I'm so sorry. If I hadn't…"
Jack winced. Whoever slapped Viola must have hit her hard."Viola?" He leaned closer, her voice barely registering in his ears. This couldn't be happening.
A sweep of damp lashes lifted to reveal shining green eyes as Viola brushed a tear from her cheek. "I was just so upset and angry that Elizabeth and Julie didn't come to my wedding to Sir Lionel." She released Julie's hand and stepped towards Jack. "I know it's petty. I realize that now. And I said some horrible things. Unforgivable things. But if you can forgive me, if you think Elizabeth would forgive me…"
Julie nodded, pursing her lips as she passed the light on to Tom and her parents. She had obviously made peace with her older sister. Although Jack had a sneaking suspicion that she'd made the mark on Viola's cheek.
"Of course I can." Jack took her empty hand in his and squeezed it. "And I think Elizabeth will forgive you too…"
He turned back to the bed, but a cool draft startled him,and he spun towards the door. Lee stepped outside, reaching his candle out into the darkness until it met another.
Jack rose to his feet, reached over the bed, pushed the curtain aside and rubbed the frosted windowpane. There, in the snow surrounding the cabin, the entire city of Hope Valley huddled in their coats. Mittened hands grasped candles as puffs of frozen breath escaped their lips. Mothers, children, friends, all gathered to pray for his Elizabeth.
Their Elizabeth.
Lee stepped back inside, holding the door open just a crack. Candles lit, everyone bowed their heads as Frank stepped forward.
"Dear Lord, we gather here before you to raise our hearts in prayer for one of our own. You are our refuge in times of suffering, an ever-present help in troubling times. As we stand here, hold us in your loving arms. Give us, all of us, the strength we need to surrender to your will." He gave Abigail his candle and opened his Bible. "'For the Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.'"
Silence filled the small space. Jack stroked Rip's back, fighting back the tears that Frank's words brought to his heart.
Frank closed the Book and placed a hand on Elizabeth's forehead, his eyes shut as his lips moved in silent prayer.
After a minute, he opened his eyes and stepped back. "Does anyone here have anything they want to share?"
Rosaleen Sullivan pushed through the gap in the door, a book clutched to her chest. "I'd like to read a poem, if that's alright. Maybe we can all take turns reading it together."
"I think Elizabeth would like that." Frank beckoned for her to come closer, Molly close behind.
After giving her candle to her mother, Rosaleen opened the book to a worn, dog-eared page. She swallowed and began to speak, her clear voice filling the room.
"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words." Her voice wavered and Jack took the book from her trembling hands. "And never stops, at all."
He passed it to Abigail then, who gave her candles back to Frank.
"And sweetest in the Gale is heard, and sore must be the storm." She passed it to Viola.
"That could abash the little Bird." Tears streamed down her face and she blinked them away, handing the book to Julie.
"'That kept so many warm.' Oh, Elizabeth -" She held it out to Tom.
"I've heard it in the chillest land." He passed it to Lee.
"And on the strangest Sea." Lee showed the book to Rosemary, who lifted her head and blinked back tears, reciting the next line from memory.
"Yet, never, in Extremity..." Her voice wavered as Lee passed the book with trembling hands to Jack.
The soft candlelight surrounded him like a halo, giving him hope. Swallowing, he read the last line of the poem. "She asked a crumb -"
His voice broke. He couldn't go on.
Rosaleen wrapped her arms around him. "It's alright, Mountie Jack. She'll wake up. I know she will."
He handed the book to her and swallowed hard. Everyone in the cabin began to extinguish their candles. Pulling coats close to their bodies, they filed out of the cabin into the cold starry night.
Abigail set a basket of biscuits on the chair. Julie leaned over Elizabeth. She placed a tender kiss on her forehead and rushed to Tom's side.
Mr. Thatcher paused in the doorway, the last to leave. Pivoting towards Jack, he placed his hand on the door frame. "I'm sorry for not being kinder to you and your family. I can see now how much you love my daughter."
"More than anything." Jack twisted his body and raised his head.
"Well, I just wanted to let you know, you both have my blessing. When she wakes up, I'd be honored to walk her down the aisle at your wedding, if she'll allow me."
"She will." Jack pulled himself to his feet and reached out his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Thatcher."
"Please." He took Jack's hand. "Call me William."
Smiling, he pulled away and before shutting the door behind him.
Cold.
Terrible, horrible, all-encompassing cold.
A heavy sensation, her body like lead, everything slowing down. Slower, slower.
Bright, blinding white.
A tunnel.
Voices. No, one voice.
Julie. Crying. Pleading.
Pulling sensations. More heaviness.
A pulse.
Her name.
A scream.
Then warmth.
Warm gentle fingers touching, caressing.
A soft, deep voice.
And yet, she couldn't move. Couldn't open her eyes.
More voices. Male and female. A chill.
Then darkness.
And then, after so much time Elizabeth knew it had to be days, possibly weeks, there was light.
Warm and red against her eyelids, wavering as if alive.
More voices.
"I'm so sorry… will she forgive me?"
"You are our refuge..."
"We can all read together"
"Hope...the thing with feathers"
The voices grew louder, her own pulse beating with them.
"It's alright Mountie Jack, she'll wake up."
"I just wanted to let you know, you have my blessing."
A warm voice, clearer now.
Jack.
"Sorry I couldn't finish the poem. Let me try again, alright?"
A crinkling. Paper? And the unmistakable sound of Rip's snores. Was she back in town?
"I've heard it in the chillest land, and on the strangest sea, yet never in extremity-"
A pause. Why wasn't he finishing the poem?
Elizabeth willed her body to move. Something, anything to let Jack know she was alright.
Then, a release. A quickening. Warmth filling her chest, flowing down her arms and legs.
A shudder, rising from deep within her lungs. A series of coughs shaking her body.
Words, escaping her lips.
"She..she asked a crumb, of me."
Then, light. Warm, welcoming light.
Blue eyes, wet with tears.
Dimples under a dark beard. Jack's soft hands, holding her.
"Elizabeth." The name echoed in her ears.
"H-h-hey." She shivered, curving her lips into a weak smile as Jack captured them with his own.
She was home.
