Carson saw little of Elizabeth over the next week. The image of her face at the funeral refused to leave his mind. There was such pain, such brokenness on her features, it smote his own heart. But he'd also seen a strength in her, one that was born out of the support of her family and friends. She'd stood with Abigail on one side and Charlotte on the other, the three women literally supporting one another during the service. Afterward, she had taken solace in her family, spending time with her parents, sisters, and in-laws.
The Thatchers had to return to Hamilton one week after the funeral. The fact that they stayed in Hope Valley for nearly a month astounded everyone. Carson caught sight of Elizabeth saying goodbye to her family outside the cafe, where William Thatcher's car waited to take them home. She had her arms wrapped around her body as they drove down the road. Even from several yards away, Carson could see the tears slipping down her cheeks. He walked quickly to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"
She swallowed, turning to face him. "I don't know," she admitted.
He knew that feeling. Instead of trying to say anything to make her feel better, he simply pulled her into his arms for a hug.
Elizabeth gave a little sigh before relaxing against him. He held her until her tears diminished. She pulled back first, wiping away the residual moisture from her cheeks.
"I was planning on visiting the infirmary after they left," Elizabeth said. "I haven't been feeling well lately, and Julie made me promise to see you about my symptoms."
Concern shot through him. "Of course," he replied. He gestured for her to precede him, then fell into step with her. They walked quietly. Carson was comfortable with silence. He knew it was sometimes exactly what a person needed. When they reached the infirmary, Elizabeth confirmed his choice.
"Thank you, Carson," she said, giving him a grateful look. "I appreciate that you don't feel the need to fill silence with unnecessary words."
He opened the door for her. "I find words can be both a blessing and a curse," he said as they went inside. "You've been surrounded by people. I figured some quiet might be welcome."
She smiled. "You were right."
Carson nodded toward the exam table. "Have a seat there," he said, grabbing a clipboard. When he settled into the chair beside the table, he looked up at her. "Alright. Let's figure out what's going on. What kinds of symptoms are you experiencing?"
Elizabeth began checking them off on her fingers. "I have lots of emotional swings. One minute I'm fine, and the next I'm crying my eyes out. I'm constantly exhausted. I have little energy. Food has lost its appeal, and when I do manage to eat, my stomach feels queasy."
Carson jotted down each symptom, then glanced up. "Do you throw up at all?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "No, never."
"Are there any other symptoms?" Carson asked.
She thought for a moment. "Sometimes I get headaches," she said. "That's unusual for me."
Carson nodded, setting the clipboard aside. "I'll do a routine check, just to make sure everything is alright. But if I had to guess, I'd say you're suffering physical manifestations of grief." He pulled out his stethoscope to listen to her heart. Elizabeth kept quiet as he checked her heart and lungs and vitals. When he finished, he slung the stethoscope around his neck. "You seem fine otherwise," he told her, sitting once more. "Grief is a process, Elizabeth. It's different for everyone. Some people feel ill at times when experiencing deep sorrow."
She sighed. "I suppose I fall into that category."
"It would seem so," Carson confirmed. "However, I want you to come back in a few weeks so we can monitor whether you continue having these symptoms. If they last much longer, it might be a sign that we need to check deeper."
A flash of fear flickered on Elizabeth's face. Carson immediately shook his head. "I'm sure you're fine," he said consolingly. "You're young and healthy, but you've just been through a trauma most people will never have to experience. That is likely the cause of all this."
She was quiet for a few moments. "Did you ever feel sick after Amber's death?" she asked softly.
Carson let out a breath. "Yes," he admitted. "There were some days I was so upset, if I ate anything, I lost it within minutes." He leaned forward. "I had no appetite for the longest time. Sometimes I was simply in survival mode." He grimaced as he remembered those dark days. "But I didn't process it well, nor did I ask for support. You will likely have a better time of it than I did, Elizabeth. You seem to be processing your grief and asking for help when you need it."
Elizabeth twisted the material of her skirt in her hands. "Do you think it would be a good idea for me to go to the graveyard?" she asked. "I find myself wanting to talk to Jack, but Viola and Julie thought it strange that I wanted to ride to his final resting place to do so."
Carson shook his head. "I think it would be a wonderful idea," he said. "Knowing he's there might help you give words to what you're really feeling inside."
Elizabeth visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Carson," she said. "I think I'll do that today."
"Do you want company?" he asked gently.
She shook her head, but she smiled. "No, not this time," she said quietly. "I think I need to do this on my own."
He nodded in response. "If you need anything, Elizabeth, let me know. Or let one of your other friends know. We're all here for you."
She stood, putting a hand on his arm. "I know." The words were soft. With a little squeeze of his arm in farewell, Elizabeth headed for the door.
Carson sent up a silent prayer, asking that Elizabeth have the strength she needed in the hours ahead as she went to visit Jack's grave. He knew how difficult such a visit could be.
Elizabeth walked through the graveyard, feeling a bit hesitant. The June sun shone down brightly, making her blink. Like the day of her husband's funeral, it felt like it was too nice a day to be visiting a place of death. Even so, she continued on. When she reached Jack's grave, she stopped. For a long time, she just stared at the headstone. She was torn by conflicting feelings. His death still felt surreal, while at the same time hitting her with devastating clarity. Sinking to the ground, Elizabeth sighed.
"Jack," she whispered, touching the earth that was still mounded from his burial. She knew with time it would level out like all the other graves in the cemetery. The thought was not a comforting one. Life would go on, heedless of the fact that a wonderful man was no longer there. She whispered his name again, then let her head rest against his tombstone. She was shocked when no tears fell from her eyes.
Perhaps they would come later. As she'd told Carson, the smallest thing could set her off.
Eventually, Elizabeth sat back. She settled on the ground. With no one around, she began talking.
"My family left today," she said. "They were sad to leave, just like Tom was sad when he had to leave the day after your funeral." The words your funeral sounded strange, but she continued on. "Your mother is still in town. She plans to stay indefinitely. I think she takes comfort from the fact that she's in the place you called home. I offered to let her stay with me now that my family left, but she likes being at Abigail's. They've become close friends." She traced a circle in the earth. "Clara and I have been spending lots of time talking at the cafe. She knows better than anyone what I'm going through, and her friendship is pulling me through. Lee and Rosemary are as supportive as ever, of course. Having them next door is such a comfort. Faith and Shane have invited me to have dinner with them every Tuesday. Abigail is mothering me as only an older friend can." She smiled softly. "Even Carson has been a source of comfort. Knowing what he went through, I know he truly cares about how I'm feeling now." She let her hand rest against the mound. "I'm blessed with good friends, Jack. They care for me, but they miss you too. It feels like there is a gaping hole in our town without you here."
Several moments of silence ticked by. Finally, Elizabeth sighed once more. "It's hard for me to walk past the NWMP office. Every time I do, I'm flooded with memories." The tears she'd expected sooner began to well in her eyes. "I can't believe you're gone, Jack," she choked out. "Our lives together had just begun, but yours was snuffed out before we even learned what it meant to live out married life." Her throat tightened. "I wish you hadn't taken that assignment at Fort Clay. What were you thinking? We'd only been married a couple of days! Why did you feel the need to leave me again?"
The words hung in the air. She hadn't been able to fully admit it until then, but a part of her blamed him for leaving. Elizabeth gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Jack, I'm sorry! I shouldn't blame you. You did what you believed to be right. But sometimes I'm so angry that you left." She let out a sob. "And then I feel guilty for being angry." Tears streamed down her cheeks. She reached out to touch the headstone. "Please forgive me. These emotions inside of me are tumultuous. You had to follow the call in your heart." She was quiet for a moment, heart heavy. "Even if that meant leaving me." The words came out on a whisper.
She didn't speak again. Instead, she let herself remember the short days of wedded bliss she had spent with Jack. Though their time together was short, she was thankful that they had married. She was thankful to have taken the name Thornton. The memories were few, but they would last a lifetime.
For that, at least, she was grateful.
After her initial visit to Jack's grave, Elizabeth resolved to go at least twice a week to talk to her deceased husband. She found that it helped her sort through her turbulent emotions. Sometimes she sobbed, sometimes she laughed, sometimes she simply sat and stared at the stone, but she discovered healing as she spoke her thoughts out loud.
Three weeks later, Elizabeth felt more emotionally stable. She could talk about Jack with her friends, and she could smile at the memories that were brought up. Sometimes she was still reduced to tears, but she felt the healing taking place. One day, she was sitting in Abigail's kitchen when Clara, Florence, and Molly presented her with a beautiful quilt. It was hand-sewn, patched together with love. Elizabeth was touched. She tearfully embraced her friends, thanking them profusely. Abigail came toward them at that moment, smile on her face, carafe of coffee in hand. One whiff of the strong brew she usually loved suddenly sent Elizabeth's stomach rolling. Quickly excusing herself, she rushed out of the cafe before she lost her lunch.
She inhaled several deep breaths of air, one hand gripping the rail. Her stomach had finally settled when Abigail came out onto the porch.
"Elizabeth," she said, eyes shining with an undefined emotion. "Did the smell of coffee make you feel sick?"
Feeling a little sheepish, Elizabeth nodded. "I don't know what came over me," she replied. "That's never happened before."
Abigail looked excited. Elizabeth frowned, but before she could question her friend, Abigail took her arm and began pulling her down the steps. "We need to go see Carson," she said.
Confused, Elizabeth allowed herself to be led. It was about time she saw Carson anyway. The symptoms she'd listed at her last appointment were still lingering, especially the exhaustion and queasiness. Maybe there was an underlying problem. But why did Abigail look so pleased?
When they reached the infirmary, Carson and Faith were organizing the medicine bottles. They stopped when they saw Elizabeth with Abigail. Carson came toward them. "Hello, ladies. How can we help you today?"
"Elizabeth felt nauseated at the smell of coffee," Abigail announced. "And you know her other symptoms, Carson."
The doctor raised a blond brow. "I see." He smiled at Elizabeth. "Well, a question or two should clear up what's going on," he said. Faith came to stand beside him, hope shining in her eyes.
Elizabeth glanced between the three of them. "I seem to be the only one concerned," she stated.
Carson quickly schooled his features. "Sorry. It's better not to get excited prematurely." He looked her in the eyes. "Forgive my bluntness," he said, "but when did you have your last menstrual cycle?"
Elizabeth blushed hotly, but she thought back. And back. Blinking, she realized it had been some time. "Before my wedding," she said finally. At the smiles blooming around her, Elizabeth's mouth dropped, realization dawning. Why hadn't she seen it before? She'd been so consumed with counting down the days until Jack came home, and then with the emotional rollercoaster resulting from his death, she hadn't noticed a very significant change taking place within her.
"Are you still fatigued?" Carson asked, the smile still playing on his lips.
Elizabeth nodded wordlessly.
The doctor continued. "And you still feel queasy when you eat?"
She nodded again, a sudden hope blossoming inside.
Carson chuckled, gripping her shoulders lightly in his hands. "Congratulations, Elizabeth," he said. "You're going to have a baby."