Time goes by slowly but surely. Days become weeks. The silent ebb and flow of life lulls everyone in Hope Valley into a calm, balanced state. The everydays are filled with little joys and minor tragedies.

Henry is released from the infirmary. He finds the jail a much calmer, quieter place, and he himself feels more peaceful since the pain in his chest has ceased. The area is still sensitive, and he is not allowed to lift heavy objects for a while, but Abigail and Bill make a list of things for him to do without overstraining himself. How… considerate.

'I am sure you can lift a brush,' Bill says as he is unlocking Henry's cell, 'and your old office needs a little sprucing up.'

Though he would never admit it, Henry actually enjoys his community service. It keeps him occupied during the day, and working with his hands tires him out enough to welcome sleep at night. Not to mention that he can always turn his back on people, focusing on the piece of window-frame in front of him waiting to be painted. He doesn't have to notice the judging stares anymore.

It is a cold but clear December morning, just a day before Christmas, when Bill breaks the news to Henry:

'I got a wire from the magistrate. In two weeks I will take you to the detention center in Cape Fullerton, where you will be waiting for your trial. It should take place in early February.'

Henry manages to nod, but deep inside he feels like he was slapped. Up to this point his situation didn't feel real. No matter what he told himself, it didn't feel real because he was still here, in Hope Valley. He wasn't free but he was walking familiar streets, saw familiar if unfriendly faces, and was allowed to do things with his two hands. He was working. Painting his way to redemption. Now the countdown starts, and soon he will have to face the end of his days in Hope Valley. Then comes what? Prison hierarchy. Waiting. Doing nothing. Cold. Strangers. Silence.

For three days now Henry has been assigned to work in the barn, helping around the Christmas floats. He is painting a pole mechanically, red, white, red, white, red, white… He allows his thoughts to wander to other things. He is facing a long prison term, he knows that. He asked Bill. His best hope is that the attempted murder charge will be dropped.

Before he could completely sink into self-pity a commotion disturbs his quiet misery. Nobody has seen Opal for an hour and a half now, not since she left with the other girls to pick sprigs of holly to decorate the floats. Emily tells the worried adults that they split into small groups, but she can't remember which group did Opal join. She must have fallen behind or chosen the wrong path at some point.

'What if Opal is still in the forest?' Miss Thatcher asks.

'Well, it's going to be dark soon...' Lee Coulter casts an uneasy glance at the sky, letting his unfinished sentence gloomily hang in the air.

'We should start looking for her right now,' his wife suggests. It is a constructive and very sensible idea, one they can act upon.

'She could be hurt, and she could be anywhere in the forest,' Jack Thornton warns the others.

Jack was allowed to come home for Christmas. Becky Stanton arrived two days ago. Henry Gowen won't be taken to Cape Fullerton until January. Everybody is home for Christmas. Almost everybody. Only if Opal was safe and sound, too…

What if she wandered off to the old mine? This thought bugs Henry, but there is nobody around to share his worry with. All the adults have left to arrange a searching party, only Rosemary stayed behind with the children, comforting them and looking after them. Should he inform her of his idea?

Henry takes his coat and slips out of the barn in a moment when nobody pays attention. It is easier this way, he tells himself. It is unlikely that Rosemary would ever leave him alone with the children, so if he wants to help, Henry needs to take things in his hands. He will just go after Thornton and the others, and warn them about the mine. It's as easy as that. Except that he finds they had already left the town to search for Opal. But he could join them, couldn't he? The afternoon is closing upon the town, and they need every men to find the girl.

Henry takes a horse, because riding is definitely quicker than limping, and heads for the old mine. He knows Bill would have never agreed to this. He shouldn't have left the barn. If he returns without the girl, they will never believe that he didn't want to run away.

But… didn't he? Can he be completely sure that he didn't panic and this is not an attempt to avoid prison? He won't lie to himself, he does not really care about children. He is fairly sure they could find Opal without his help. Actually, this is his best (and only) chance to break away from Bill's grasp of his metaphorical leash while every men is looking for the girl.

On the other hand, he is not an idiot. He knows very well that he wouldn't get too far. And where would he go? He likes it or not, Abigail was right when she said Hope Valley was his home. If he can't stay in Hope Valley, it makes no difference if he is in prison or on the run. Abigail sees good in him but there is no trace of goodness, just pure selfishness - and fear. Henry Gowen is a coward. He fears death and he fears the life that awaits him.

He is about to turn back and give himself up to Bill when he hears a swift sharp cry from somewhere near. Someone - not a child but an adult woman - has been hurt. Henry dismounts his horse, for the trees stand very close together and it would be hard to navigate a horse among them. Henry forces his way through till he reaches a rocky slope. He spots Abigail just a few yards away to left from his point but at the base of the slope, lying on the ground, bruised but conscious.

'Abigail!' he shouts to get her attention, and she moves her head towards the sound.

'Henry?'

'Are you hurt?'

'I think I have sprained my ankle, and I am stuck here, but otherwise I am fine.'

Henry knows that without his help she won't be able to climb back on the top of the slope. He doesn't exactly know how will he help her, but that comes later. He starts to descend.

'Be careful!' Abigail warns him. 'It's dangerous. I took one wrong step and it landed me here. Maybe you should call some help. I will wait here, that I can promise.'

'There is no time for that,' he argues. 'The sun is about to set, and when the night is upon us, it would be much trickier to get you out safely. And that would be an unnecessary risk to take.'

He finally reaches the spot where she is lying, and offers a hand to help her get back on her feet as gently as it is possible. That is the easy part, and soon, with trembling muscles, Abigail is standing, slightly leaning on Henry for support.

Now they just need to climb up.

'Should I ask what happened to you?'

'When Elizabeth told me that Opal was missing a thought struck me: what if she had wandered off to the old mine? I know it has been closed down for years now, but I just had to check… She wasn't there, so I turned back but kept looking for her, except that I didn't watch where I was going and ended up rolling down,' Abigail explains all in one breath, then frowns. 'But what are you doing here?'

'I was looking for Opal, too,' Henry says a bit defensively. It is not a lie, though it does not cover the whole truth. He hopes Abigail does not want to discuss the question further, it would only lead to shame (on his part) and disappointment (as for Abigail). He gestures toward the slope. 'Now, shall we?'

They try to hold onto each other, but stones are rolling under their feet, and it's hard to make a step forward and not to fall back two.

'It won't work,' Abigail pants after trying unsuccessfully for a few minutes.

'No, it won't,' Henry agrees. Luckily, he has got an idea. Surely not the very best idea but it's worth a try. 'It might sound unorthodox, but you could cling onto my back, so it would be easier for me to support your... weight,' he says a bit lamely.

'Are you offering me a piggyback ride?' Abigail asks back. And she downright giggles.

Henry can't help but smile, too. 'The offer won't be on the table for long,' he adds jokingly.

With some difficulty she clambers up on his back. Her narrow skirt doesn't really help, so she needs to hitch it up a bit, while Henry waits patiently with bended knees and eyes politely averted to the ground.

'This will be our little secret, won't it?' she asks when she is finally settled on his back.

'Of course.'

It isn't much easier to climb and carry Abigail's full weight, but it has its advantages (for example, if he stumbles and falls he can catch himself on his hands without hurting her), so Henry grits his teeth, and slowly, carefully finds his way up. Abigail hugs him tight; they might be improperly close, but unless a miraculously strong wind comes and lifts them up, this is how they are going to get back on the road.

'Damn these rocks!' Henry swears under his breath when he almost loses his balance. 'Sorry for that.'

Every time he falters he can feel Abigail's fingers digging into his shoulders. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, her thighs are pressing into his waist.

'I am almost sure I won't drop you,' Henry says, his chest heaving.

'Are you saying that I am heavy?'

'I take it back, just please don't kick me.'

'When we reach the top, I am going to laugh so hard I'll roll back down,' Abigail murmurs. It is hard to ignore the way her breath is tingling his neck.

'I would advise you against doing that,' Henry replies, but he is smiling, too.

It takes almost a miracle and certainly a lot of time but eventually they reach the top of the slope. Henry tries to gently put Abigail down instead of dropping her, although his muscles are cramping all over his body. They still have got to find his horse and ride back to the town, and the sky is getting greyer and greyer above them, yet they can't resist casting back a look and let out a little laugh about their route on the slope that seemed endless and tortuorous just a second ago.

'Can we sit down there for a moment?' Abigail points at a bigger stone three steps before them as their laughter slowly fades away. 'I just want to take a closer look at my ankle while I still can see something.'

'Go ahead.'

Henry offers his arm, and they limp like a dog on three legs to the rock.

'Darkness be over me, my rest a stone,' Abigail recites before bending down to examine her ankle.

'How bad is it?'

'Swollen and hurts a lot, but I still think it's just a sprain.'

'The two cripples,' Henry mutters.

'Lost in the forest.'

'We are not lost,' he points out, but Abigail goes on, a bit absent-mindedly and starry eyed:

'It's like some fairy-tale. I feel like some magical is about to happen, I don't know, maybe an enchanted bear appears and leads us home.'

She has had a long and hard day, she was lost and found, she is hurting, and she misses her son and daughter. She just wants to go home.

'Life generally fails to be a fairy-tale. You help yourself because nobody else will. It's a waste of time to wait for enchanted bears, and being good and unselfish is simply not practical.'

Henry feels bone-tired and bitter, because his day started behind bars and this is how it is going to end, too. Hope Valley might be his home, but a jail is a jail, no matter where he is. Anyone else could have found Abigail, sooner or later, and it would have taken less trouble and exertion to rescue her.

'Yet good keeps to prevail.' Abigail shakes her head, very slowly. 'I know that life is not a fairy-tale but I have faith and I believe that we all have a purpose in the world.'

Henry feels he should apologise, because if someone he truly knows that Abigail's life was anything but a fairy-tale. But she goes on, again, before he could act upon his thoughts:

'Even at the times I felt lost and lonely... even in my darkest hours, there was always someone who offered me a ray of hope. I learnt to see the good in our world even when it's hard to see. You can fool yourself, Henry, but maybe you should start to see things as they are. You are a good man.'

Henry almost perversely enjoys how Abigail can render him speechless with nothing but simply showing him kindness.

He feels the chilly wind, that is rustling the trees, on his skin. He is sitting on a cold stone in the middle of the forest, the sky is grey above him. He is aching all over in his body and in his soul. The only warmth near him is Abigail's presence, her shoulder pressed to his, her kindness calling and reaching out to his heart. He thinks: this is it. This is the closest he is ever going to get to her - and to himself.

'All right, we should get going if we don't want to count our blessings on this rock.' Abigail makes a move to get up, but midway through the motion she stops and gives Henry a soul-piercing look. 'And just for the record, a friend, who may not make his presence known all the time but comes when the need shall arise, is a blessing, too. You are my blessing, Henry.'

Together they rise and, after some stumbling and wandering, hanging onto each other, find Henry's horse. By that time darkness is surrounding them, but nevertheless, they know one thing for sure: they will find their way home. They are not afraid of the night, nor the cold or the awfully deep quietness surrounding them. This is heavenly peace.

Henry senses it, the inexplicable calmness of these moments, which will fade as soon as they get back to Hope Valley, where once again they become the Mayor and the Criminal. He feels he should say something to Abigail. Something that is different from 'Maybe you see what you want to see' or 'I wouldn't read much into it' or so. Something that is kind and shows how deeply he cares about her. How he craves her forgiveness - but if he starts apologising now a new day will dawn on them and find them standing on the same spot. He has wronged her in so many ways and offered so little to make amends, he can't insult her by trying to make amends with simple words.

But he wants to say something, be it simple, be it short, but should it express that she is his blessing, too.

'Abigail...'

She turns her head but can't see him in the dark properly, so she takes a step closer. Henry inhales the air. It holds the scent of winter, sleeping trees, and the promise of snow.

'I respect you. Very much.'

Henry reaches out, tentatively; his hand meets hers halfway, he takes it, and enjoys the way she gently squeezes his hand. He carried her, and by his good deeds and wrong-doings he will carry the weight of her life for ever with himself; he reached out to her, physically and spiritually; and now his heart is full of peace.

It takes some time to figure out the best arrangement for the way back home, but in the end Henry gets up in the saddle first, then lifts Abigail in front of him. All settled now.

In half an hour they will be back in Hope Valley where they will be told that Opal was found by Lee Coulter, a bit scared but unscratched. Bill will grumble at letting Henry out of sight, but he will make him a cup of hot coffee. In two weeks Henry will be transferred to the city to face his trial. He should prepare for a long prison sentence. In two weeks his community service is done. In two weeks his Hope Valley life is done for who knows how long, and he will be lonelier than ever in his life. But there is a small chance that by now he has learnt to face loneliness and judgement with courage and dignity. Abigail believes in him. Maybe Henry could ask her to write him letters about life in Hope Valley.

Abigail does not know about his upcoming trial, not yet. Those two weeks will be gone in a blink of an eye - and so will be Henry. But he is ready to face whatever life has for him. Let it be what needs to be.

Author's note: Writing in a foreign language is a constant struggle but this never-ending wrestling with words, sentences, and expressions (and commas!) never fails to make me see the beauty of it, too. Writing is a challenge, writing is joy. This chapter grew very close to my heart as I was working on it. Please, let me know what you think of this chapter. Or the story. Or WCTH in general. I can't tell how thankful I am for all the reviews, they mean a lot to me.