Again, don't think the scene breaks are working, so you'll just have to assume! Hope you're all enjoying it – thanks for reviews so far.

At dawn the next morning, Emma Jane climbed quietly out of bed, desperate not to wake Hank. She had come up with the most fantastic idea the night before and now she was determined to put it into operation. She dressed quickly, and threw a few of her personal belongings into her bag, only the things she felt she would definitely need. Afterwards, she stole one final look at the man she had married, before silently opening the bedroom door and creeping downstairs to the bar. She let herself out into the cold, morning air, shivering slightly as she did so, then, glancing around to make sure no-one was watching, she hurtled across the street around the back of Loren's store, where she knew Abigail's bedroom window was.

"Abigail!" she hissed, as loudly as she dared, "Abigail!" There was no response, so, picking up some dirt, she threw it at the window, wincing at the sound. A few moments later, Abigail's confused face appeared and she pulled up the window.

"Emma Jane! What's going on?" she demanded, "What...?"

"Ssh!" Emma Jane hushed her, "I've had the best idea. You and Sully want to elope, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"So, let's do it now!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You, me and Sully! We'll get a wagon and we'll head for Denver today, this morning, right now!" She grinned up at her, "Come on, it'll be great!"

"Have you lost your mind?" Abigail replied, "We can't…"

"I'm coming up!" Emma Jane leapt onto the wood store under the window and started to hoist herself up, despite Abigail's protestations, "Here, take this!" she threw her bag up into Abigail's face and then grabbed onto the windowsill to pull herself up. "Help me!" she called, and Abigail reached out and hauled her inside.

"Emma Jane, what is this about?"

"I need to leave town, now," she explained, pausing to catch her breath, "I can't go back to New York with my parents and I can't stay here with Hank."

"Why ever not?"

"He doesn't love me."

"You don't love him," Abigail pointed out.

Emma Jane paused, "I don't know how I feel right now. But I know that I can't stay with a man who clearly, absolutely, categorically stated he didn't love me."

"He told you this?" Abigail was aghast.

"Well…not in so many words. But I heard him telling Jake. Listen, let's do it!"

"I can't just up and leave without saying anything to my parents!"

"You were planning on doing it anyway!"

"Yes, but…" Abigail threw up her hands, "I was sort of hoping it wouldn't really ever come about."

Emma Jane sighed, "Look, you know your father will never accept Sully. You know he won't give permission for your marriage, so we might as well flee now, while we have the chance! Like I did!"

"I'm not like you," Abigail said, "you're a free spirit, you do what you want…" she trailed off, "I'm…"

"Well behaved?" Emma Jane teased, "Abigail, that's why you're so miserable! You always do what other people want! For once, do what you want! Live a little!"

Abigail took a deep breath, "Ok, ok, let's do it."

"Yes!" Emma Jane exclaimed, "Come on, if we go now…" she was cut off by the door to Abigail's bedroom swinging open to reveal Loren and Maud on the other side.

"What the hell is going on?" Loren demanded.

"Pa!" Abigail said, "We were just…I mean I…"

"Do you know what time it is?" He ran a hand through his grey hair, which was sticking up at all angles. "And you, young lady," he turned to Emma Jane, "Does your husband know where you are?"

"No, and I don't care!" she replied stubbornly.

"Well you will do, cause I'm going to get him right now!"

"No, Mr Bray…" Emma Jane protested, but it was no use. Maud marched Emma Jane downstairs to wait until Loren returned with a disgruntled looking Hank.

"There you go," Loren said, "take her away."

"The hell's goin' on?" Hank asked, looking at his wife angrily.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Loren said, "the two of them were whispering in Abigail's room, that's what! Can't you keep her in her own bed at night?"

"Emma Jane?" Hank asked her.

Worried she might start to cry, Emma Jane pushed past both of them and hurried back out into the street. She was halfway to the saloon when she felt someone grab her arm roughly and Hank swung her around to face him.

"Asked you a question."

"One I don't care to answer!" she replied, struggling, "let me go!"

"Not til you tell me exactly what's goin' on."

"I'm not going back to New York, I'm not!" she yelled at him, "I don't care if my father pays you a million dollars, I'm not going back there!"

"What makes you think yer goin' back?"

"You! You're going to take the five thousand and have the marriage annulled! You're going to send me home with them." Her lower lip started to quiver and tears sprang into her eyes, "You don't care about me at all!"

Hank took a deep breath, "Ain't sendin' you anywhere," he said, "Ain't takin yer Pa's money."

Emma Jane stopped struggling, "You're not?"

"No."

"But…but why not? It's a lot of money…"

"Fer someone like me?" he finished bitterly.

"I didn't mean that," she lowered her eyes briefly, "but if it's not the money, then what?"

"Kinda got used to havin' you around," he replied, "Figured you wouldn't want to go back anyways. Besides," he touched her cheek briefly, "you ain't all bad."

"But…"

"And yer wrong," he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I do care bout you." With that, he moved past her back to the saloon. Emma Jane stood for a moment watching and then slowly followed him back inside. It wasn't exactly a declaration, but it was something.

"Well, Mr Lawson," Mr Brown said a few hours later, oblivious to what had taken place earlier in the day, "Have you considered my offer?"

"Sure have," Hank replied, "an' the answer's no."

Mr Brown was taken aback, "Isn't it enough?"

"No."

"So, you want more. Fine, how about six thousand?"

"Ain't never gonna be enough," Hank told him, "I like your daughter and I'm gonna keep her here with me."

Mr Brown's lips went white as he pursed them together, not used to being turned down by a…a…ruffian, "I can assure you, you are making a grave mistake."

Hank shrugged, "Guess I am." He lit a cigarette and blew out smoke, "Sorry."

"Frederick?" Mrs Brown came up behind them, "Do we have an agreement?"

"No Ma'am, you do not," Hank informed her, "Emma Jane's my wife and she's stayin' with me."

Mrs Brown's jaw dropped, "You can't do that!"

"Ring on her finger says I can."

"Frederick…"

"Leave it Amanda," Mr Brown said, "Mr Lawson has clearly made his decision. Where is my daughter?"

At that moment, Emma Jane appeared at the door of the saloon. "Mother. Father."

"You…you…" Mrs Brown was so angry she couldn't seem to find words, "You are going to regret this my girl, do you hear me?" she strode up to her daughter, "You are selfish and ungrateful and…"

"You told me all this yesterday," Emma Jane interrupted, "I don't need to hear it for a second time."

Mrs Brown slapped her hard again, causing her to cry out. Instantly, Hank was by her side, "Ain't nobody gonna hit my wife," he said, glaring at his mother-in-law.

"Your wife," Mrs Brown mocked him, "Well, Emma Jane, as long as you are his wife you are not our daughter. You are not welcome at our house, nor even in New York. Never again will you be considered part of our family. You are dead to us."

"Amanda…"

"I mean it!" Mrs Brown glared at both her husband and daughter, "Dead!" With that, she turned on her heel and strode over to where the stagecoach was waiting. Mr Brown looked at his daughter as if he wanted to say something else, then he too turned and hurried to join his wife. A few minutes later, the stage pulled away, with neither of them glancing in their daughter's direction.

Emma Jane watched them go, a feeling of sudden sadness in her heart. For all that they disagreed with and shouted at her, they were still her parents. Or at least they had been. To be cut off completely from them was more than she had anticipated.

"Oh well," Hank said, grounding out his cigarette end, "guess we won't be seeing them again."

"Guess not," Emma Jane replied quietly.

"Got you a present."

She tore her gaze away from the retreating stage and looked at her husband, "What?"

"A present," he repeated, "got it this mornin'."

"What kind of present?" she asked suspiciously.

He grinned at her, "Wait here." Then he disappeared behind the saloon, leaving her standing waiting, confused and sceptical, her mind still on what had just happened. A few moments later, he reappeared, leading a beautiful chestnut mare. "Here you go," he said.

Emma Jane stared at it stupidly, "It's a horse."

"It's yer horse," he corrected her, "bought her this mornin' from an old friend. Figured it's about time my wife had her own horse."

"I can't ride."

"Gonna teach you."

"You are?" she looked at him disbelieving, "You're going to teach me to ride."

"Course," he replied, "she's all saddled and ready to go."

Emma Jane walked over and stroked the horse's nose, "What's her name?"

"Ain't got one 'parently," he replied, "Gonna have to give her one." He grinned at her, "You like her?"

"She's beautiful," Emma Jane replied truthfully.

"Git on her then." She stared at him, "Come on, git on!" She continued to stare. "Oh, come on." He came up behind her and lifted her easily up and onto the horse's back, where she sat, looking terrified. "She ain't gonna bite," he told her.

"I…I know," Emma Jane replied, "I've just…never been on a horse before."

"S'easy," he reassured her, making sure her feet were in the stirrups, "You just hold onto the reins."

Emma Jane picked them up, "Like this?"

"Right. Gonna be a natural." Hank swung himself onto his own horse, "C'mon, we'll go for a ride, see how you git on." He urged his horse forward, but Emma Jane's kept still, "Give her a kick."

She kicked the horse a little, and she sprang forward, causing her rider to scream slightly, "I'm…not sure I like this."

"Yer fine!" he encouraged her as they walked down the street together, "She likes you."

"I'm sure she does," Emma Jane said, not quite believing it, "It feels really strange."

"Will do at first. You'll be saddle sore for a while after. We'll fix that though," he grinned lasciviously at her.

She was concentrating so much on staying on top of the horse, that Emma Jane missed his meaning. They wandered down the street and out towards the meadow where Hank told her to try a trot.

"I'm not sure that's a very good idea. I think that's enough for today."

"Quit whinin' and do it!" he said, "Just kick her a bit more, that's it." He watched as she urged the mare forward into a trot, "Just try and go in a circle," he directed her. "You gotta bounce up and down. Push yourself up from the stirrups and from yer thighs!"

Emma Jane tried to do as he told her, but she found it difficult, "Maybe it would be better if I rode side-saddle," she suggested, thinking back to the fashionable women she had seen on horseback in the city.

"Side-saddle?" he sneered at her, "That's fer them toffs. Yer a country girl now, Emma Jane, you gotta ride like a country girl."

At that moment, she forgot to keep bouncing and the rhythm of her sitting down into the saddle caused the mare to start cantering. Emma Jane screamed, which only caused the mare to go faster and before she knew what was happening, they were heading for the fence.

Hank bolted towards her, but the mare decided she didn't want to jump after all, and pulled up sharply before the fence. By the time he reached them, Emma Jane was crying.

"You cryin'?" he demanded.

"No," she replied, wiping her eyes, "I just…got a fright that's all. I don't want to ride any more today, thank you."

"Emma Jane…"

"Please, help me down!" she demanded.

Hank slid off of his own horse and came over to her. He held out his hands and lifted her from the horse back onto solid ground, "Can't keep quittin.'"

"I'm not quitting!" she retaliated, "I've just had enough for today, that's all. Can we go back to the saloon please?"

"Women," Hank muttered, following as she started to walk back across the meadow, horse in tow. He was going to make her ride if it was the last thing he did.

A week later, and things were still going no better. Despite having taken her out virtually every day, Hank was having no luck in teaching Emma Jane to ride. She was either too nervous or too scared and every time the horse moved, she almost had a heart attack. He thought he was being incredibly patient with her, but his enthusiasm was wearing thin.

"Can't keep runnin' away," he told her as she stormed back into the saloon after yet another unsuccessful attempt.

"I'm not running away!" she retaliated, relieving Jessica behind the bar, "I just don't understand why you're being so horrible about it!" Although Hank believed he was being nice, to Emma Jane, he came across as rude and horrible. He made her feel small every time she was afraid or nervous. He laughed at her whenever she fell off, and generally patronised her at every turn.

"You aint' seen me bein' horrible," he advised her.

"Hmph!" she tossed her head and turned to serve Jake, whom she was surprised was still standing, "Another whisky Jake?"

He nodded, "Hear you're learning to ride."

"Trying to," she replied.

"She ain't tryin'," Hank chipped in, "She can't do it. She's yella."

"I am not!"

He laughed, "You can't even stay on the damn thing! And every time she moves, Emma Jane screams." Laughter came from all around the room, "When she's not screamin', she's cryin.'"

"That true?" Jake asked her, grinning.

Emma Jane threw the bar cloth down on the bar top and marched around the side of the bar, shooting her husband a murderous look as she passed.

"Where do you think yer going?" he called after her, "We got customers!"

"Out!" she yelled back, before throwing open the saloon door and emerging onto the street. Turning, she headed around to the stables at the back of the saloon where Willow, her mare was contentedly munching hay. "I'll show you," she muttered to herself, picking up the saddle where it was leaning against the door, "I'll show you." She proceeded to tack Willow up, the way Hank had shown her, and then led her out of the stall. Using the mounting block, which Hank always called 'the girly step,' she climbed onto Willow's back and urged her on. Clinging on for dear life, she walked Willow down and round to the meadow. "I can do this," she told herself, "See, it's easy."

"Hey!" she turned to see Abigail coming towards them, "Look at you!"

Emma Jane grinned, "Hank thinks I'm useless. I'm going to show him!"

"Good for you," Abigail replied, leaning against the fence as Emma Jane trotted Willow in a circle. "Looks like you're getting the hang of it."

"Yes," Emma Jane replied, "Seen Sully recently?" she queried as she trotted by.

"Yes," Abigail said.

"Still hopelessly in love?"

"Yes."

"So, when's the big elopment?"

"Emma Jane!" Abigail looked around to make sure no-one had heard, "Probably after Christmas."

"Two months, that's quite a long time to wait."

"Not really. I can wait until then, we both can. I'll be eighteen then, and I can do what I like."

"I'll be seventeen in three weeks," Emma Jane informed her as she passed by again.

"Really?" Abigail latched onto this, "You should have a party!"

Emma Jane laughed, "What? In the saloon?"

"Maybe not there," Abigail replied, "out here."

"I can't see Hank agreeing to that."

"But it's your birthday!"

"I know, but…" Emma Jane was cut off suddenly as the sound of gunfire filled the air. It spooked Willow, causing her to rear up on her hind legs. Emma Jane clung onto her neck for support, but then she began tearing towards the fence. Powerless to stop her, Emma Jane held on and prayed for a soft landing, but just as last time, Willow pulled up short before she could jump. Unfortunately, unlike last time, Emma Jane couldn't stop herself and she went flying over Willow's hand, landing on her stomach on top of the fence and then hurtling downwards onto the grass, whereupon everything went black.

"Emma Jane!" Abigail screamed, running over to where her friend lay. She threw herself down on the grass next to her and rolled her over, but Emma Jane wasn't moving. "Oh…oh…" she cast around wildly, not knowing what to do. Then she got up and ran as fast as she could back across the meadow towards town. She ran up to the saloon and paused at the door, remembering everything her father had told her. But this was an emergency. Surely he wouldn't mind?" She threw open the door and stumbled inside, causing the patrons to stop talking and look at her.

"Ladies ain't allowed," Hank told her lazily from behind the bar.

"It's…it's Emma Jane," Abigail said, breathlessly, "She fell…off Willow. She's not…moving…"

Hank leapt over the bar, "Where?"

"The…the meadow."

"Jake!" he yelled to his friend, the supposed town medic, but Jake was slumped across a table clearly inebriated. Hank grabbed Abigail by the shoulders, "Go to the boarding house, get Charlotte, ok? Ok?" Abigail nodded dumbly, "Go!" He pushed her out the door ahead of him and then started to run down the street towards the meadow.

"Hank?" Rev Johnston watched him fly past and decided to follow, closely followed by Horace.

Hank first caught sight of Willow, standing calmly beside what looked suspiciously like Emma Jane. He flew across the meadow and fell to his knees beside her unconscious form, "Emma Jane?" He pushed her hair back from her eyes, "Emma Jane, can you hear me?" There was no response. He took her head in his lap, "Emma, Emma wake up. Emma…" he stroked her face, willing her to respond, "Emma, please wake up."

At that moment, Abigail appeared with Charlotte, Rev Johnston and Horace beside them.

"What happened?" Charlotte asked, crouching down beside them.

"Willow got spooked by the gunfire," Abigail said, "She made for the fence and Emma Jane fell…" She dissolved into tears, "Is she dead?"

Hank glanced sharply at Charlotte, who was busy feeling for Emma Jane's pulse, "No, no she's not dead. But we need to get her inside. Hank, can you lift her?" Hank easily picked Emma Jane up in his arms, "Bring her back to the saloon."

The small party trailed after Charlotte and Hank, Rev Johnston muttering a prayer under his breath. Hank carried Emma Jane back towards the saloon, Charlotte holding open the door for him, stunning the patrons.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Hank demanded angrily as they swept inside and upstairs to the bedroom.

"Put her down, gently," Charlotte ordered.

Hank did as he was told, "You know anythin' bout what to do?"

Charlotte could see genuine concern in his eyes, "I've had two children Hank. I can turn my hand to anything." She smiled gently at him, "Could you wait outside?"

He was reluctant to leave her, but he did as Charlotte said, coming out and closing the door behind him. He walked slowly back downstairs, where a sense of uneasy calm had descended over the bar. Mechanically, he poured himself a whisky, draining it in one go and following it with another. The time seemed to drag, until Charlotte called for him from upstairs.

"She ok?" he asked, hurrying up the stairs to meet her.

"She's conscious now, but she's a little woozy from hitting her head," Charlotte relayed, "She should stay in bed for a while. She's had a nasty shock. As have you," she touched his arm gently.

Hank nodded, "Can I see her?"

"Of course. If she gets any worse, I'll be happy to come back."

"Thank you," he thanked her, and then pushed open the bedroom door. The room was darkened, the curtains drawn, and Charlotte had clearly undressed Emma Jane and put her into bed. She was lying in her slip underneath the covers, and she turned her head when he entered. "Hey there," he greeted her, walking over and perching on the end of the bed, "You a'right?"

"I suppose so," Emma Jane replied, "My head hurts though. In fact, I hurt all over. Damn horse."

Hank smiled, "Trust you to blame an animal."

"If she hadn't spooked at the gunfire…"

"If you hadn't taken her out without me."

"You said I was useless at riding."

"Never said that," he defended himself, "just said you cried a lot, that's all."

"Exactly," she replied, "you shouldn't make fun of me like that. It's not my fault I'm scared of horses."

Hank laughed, "Ok, it ain't yer fault. Happy?" she nodded and then winced, "Well, you better git some rest. I got customers to see to." He brushed his lips against her forehead, "Holler if you need me." With that, he was gone.

Emma Jane lay in bed for the rest of the day, fighting the headache and the pain in her limbs. She could remember nothing from the moment Willow had attacked the fence to waking up with Charlotte looming over her. She didn't know it was possible to be in so much pain, especially in her stomach. It was gripping, almost twisting her insides. Finally, she couldn't stand to lie in bed any longer and wondered if getting out of bed would help. When she pulled back the covers and stood up, she felt an unwelcome wet sensation between her thighs and when she looked down, the front of her slip was soaked in blood.

"Damn," she said softly. She had been wondering what had happened to her monthly, but she wasn't too excited about it having stained her slip. She turned back to the bed to see the damage it had caused to the sheets, when the gripping pain surged through her abdomen again, causing her to cry out and grab onto the bed for support. She had never experienced pain like this. Surely it wasn't normal for a monthly bleed? Once more, it surged through her and she fell onto the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest to try and alleviate it.

Hank found her still on the floor a few minutes later when he brought her a whisky. Putting the glass down on the dresser, he hurried forward to her, "What is it?" he asked, panicked.

"I don't know," she replied through gritted teeth, "But it hurts, it really hurts!" she cried out again as the pain continued to surge, "Hank…what's happening to me?"

"Yer gonna be ok," he reassured her, helping her to stand. She immediately slumped against him, crying.

"It hurts!" she cried, starting to sob.

"Ok, ok baby," he helped her back into bed, noticing the blood on the sheets and on her slip, "I'm gonna go git Charlotte, ok?"

"No don't leave me!" she grabbed onto him tightly, "please, please don't leave me!"

"Just for a minute," he reassured her, "I'll git someone to go git her, ok?" He broke free from his wife's hold and barrelled down the stairs into the bar, grabbing the nearest sober man and telling him to go and get Charlotte. Then he ran back upstairs and into the room where Emma Jane was kneeling on the bed, clutching her stomach. "It's ok. Charlotte's coming." He allowed her to grab onto him again, "Yer gonna be fine." Deep down, however, he didn't feel as sure. He had been around enough women to know it was never a good sign when one began to bleed as heavily. Thoughts swirled around in his head, wondering if it could be…

Shortly after, Charlotte burst through the door and ordered him to wait outside. She closed the door in his face and he was helpless to do anything except listen to Emma Jane's cries of pain and Charlotte's muffled words of comfort. He paced around and around the hallway, cursing himself for not having noticed, blaming himself for having done this to her. When the door opened, he looked up hopefully, but Charlotte's face was grim.

"She's lost the baby," she informed him. Hank closed his eyes briefly, "Did you know she was expecting?"

"No."

"Cause if you did, making her ride that horse was damn foolish!"

"I didn't know!" he shouted at her, "If I'd known, I never would have…" he trailed off, "Is she going to be all right?"

"I don't know," Charlotte replied truthfully, "She's lost a lot of blood, she's weak and she has a slight fever." She paused, "She's also young, which can only work in her favour. I'm going to stay tonight if it's all right with you." Hank nodded, swallowing hard. "Go and sit with her," Charlotte softened, "I'm sure she'd like that."

This time when he went in, Emma Jane's eyes were closed, a thin layer of sweat covering her brow. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her clammy hand in his cool one. Gently, he stroked her fingers, running his over the wedding band.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "it's my fault. Truth is, I never really thought about it before. Us havin' kids I mean. Just seemed like something other folks did. Never guessed in a million years that you…" he broke off, "If I'd known you were carrying my baby, wouldn't have let you near that damn horse, never mind ridin' her." He paused, "Why'd you take her out by yerself? Shouldn't have gone without me. Would have been there to stop her…" he let out a shuddering breath and then reached over to wipe the sweat from her eyes.

Deep within him, the sentiment burned, the feelings that he knew he had, the ones that were causing him such pain now, not just for what had happened, but for everything.

"I love you, Emma Jane," he said, not knowing if she had heard it.

It was a full twenty-four hours before Emma Jane regained proper consciousness. She had spent the previous night and day hovering between the two. There had been a multitude of voices swirling around in her brain, ones she had identified at least as Charlotte and Hank. They had mumbled above her, but she hadn't quite been able to make out what they had said. When she woke, the window in the bedroom was open and a light evening breeze was blowing the curtains. Despite her body feeling heavy and tired, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and looked around the room.

The door opened and Hank appeared, holding what looked suspiciously like a bowl. "Hey," he greeted her, "yer awake."

She nodded, "I still feel a bit light-headed." She gestured to what he was holding, "What's that?"

"Soup."

Emma Jane raised her eyebrows, "Soup? Did you make it?"

"No," he reassured her, "Jessica did."

"That's all right then," she smiled, as he put it down beside her and then turned to look at her, "What?"

"Nothin'" he replied, perching on the end of the bed, "Just glad yer gonna be ok. Gave us all a bit of a scare."

Emma Jane's smile faded, "I think I know what was wrong with me."

Hank nodded, "Me too."

Emma Jane paused and looked at him, "I didn't know. If I had known, I wouldn't have done anything as foolish as getting on a horse…"

"It's ok," he covered her hand with his, "If I'd known, would never have bought you that damn horse. Charlotte says you'll be fine. Ain't no reason why we can't have others some time." He brushed her hair back from her face, and she held his hand against her cheek.

"Kiss me," she whispered and he bent and kissed her gently. She wound her arms around his neck pulling him down to her. Their kiss was deep and passionate, and when they finally broke apart, she looked him straight in the eye and echoed his sentiment.

"I love you too, Hank."

She was confined to bed for another few days just to ensure that everything was fine and during that time, Hank couldn't do enough for her. It seemed that since their mutual declaration of love, things had gotten so much better between her and Hank. He was more gentle, more tender with her that it was as if she were living with a new man. When she finally felt able to get out of bed, he was reluctant to let her do anything.

"Don't think you should be up and about just yet," he said as she got dressed, "Shouldn't you stay in bed a bit longer?"

"And do what?" she asked him, "I'm going crazy staring at the four walls." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, "I feel fine."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, "Just don't want you overdoin' things, that's all."

"I won't," she promised him, "I'm just going to take things easy."

"No workin' behind the bar."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said, "I'm just going to take a walk, is that ok?"

"Fine," he said, defeated, "Just don't try anythin' heroic like jumping fences."

Emma Jane grinned at him before making her way downstairs through the bar, and out into the street. It felt good to be outside again, even although the air was crisp and cold. It was, by now, the middle of November, and she pulled her shawl close around her body to keep warm. As she stepped out onto the street, she was distracted by a sudden commotion coming from Loren's store.

Abigail came running out, laden down with bags, Sully close behind her, Loren and Maud in hot pursuit. "You can't stop us, Pa!" she was yelling, "I love Sully and we're going to get married!"

"You're not going to do this, Abigail!" Loren yelled in protest, "Over my dead body!"

"Abigail, please!" Maud beseeched her, but Abigail was not for turning.

"No Ma! We're doing this now!" Catching sight of Emma Jane, she ran across the street, while Sully started to throw things into a wagon, Loren attempting to stop him, "Emma Jane! I'm so glad you're all right."

"What's happening?" Emma Jane asked.

"We're doing it!" Abigail replied, his eyes shining, "We're eloping today!"

"Today?" Emma Jane's jaw dropped, "But what about waiting until after Christmas?"

"We can't wait any longer," Abigail hugged her friend, "we'll be back soon. Take care!" She darted back across the street and leapt up into the wagon beside her beloved.

"Abigail Bray you get back down here right now!" Loren yelled.

"Bye Pa, bye Ma!" Abigail shouted cheerily as Sully urged the horses to move forward. She turned and waved to Emma Jane, "Bye Emma!"

Emma Jane waved back furiously, "Bye! Good luck!" She waved until the wagon was gone from sight at which point Loren and Maud turned to face her.

"This is all your fault!" the former said, pointing his finger at her. He turned and ushered Maud back into the store, casting a final murderous look back at her.

Emma Jane stood where she was in the street, staring in the distance, "Good luck Abigail," she said softly.

TBC. Keep those reviews coming!