The first morning when Cat feels strong enough to take a short walk, is chilly but dry. The sky is wearing a pale grey colour and it's obvious that Miles Montgomery doesn't like the idea of his mother going out with Henry as her support. Nevertheless Henry offers his arm and they start walking towards the lake. They won't reach it today, it's too far; such a long walk would surely exhaust Cat, but it's a direction as good as anything else. Maybe one day they'll make it to the lake and back.

They walk in contemplative silence for a few minutes. Henry keeps casting concerned looks at Cat from the corner of his eyes. How is she doing? What if they misjudged her strength and she'll be too tired to walk back on her own? Well, he's ready to carry her home in his arms if she's all right with that. He just hopes this won't be a bad experience for her. It was his idea, after all—and what if he was wrong? Of course, Faith said that it should be fine but… but… But. If Cat Montgomery collapses while walking with him, Henry will never be able to face her again.

"I'm fine."

Oh. All right. His concerned looks might not have been so subtle after all.

"That's- that's good. I'm glad to hear it."

"Relax. I won't die on you."

More minutes pass in silence.

Now that he feels more at ease, Henry's thoughts turn onto Abigail. It's been more than a week since they last talked—if you can call angry words and harsh accusations 'talking'. A whole week without her smile! Henry must be an idiot if he thought that his own frustration is worth more than a single smile from her. So what if she went and talked to Bill, not him? When he had the chance, Henry didn't even try to talk with Abigail, he immediately started arguing. No wonder she didn't think of him as her equal.

"Henry, I don't want to interfere but—" Cat starts, breaking his train of thoughts, but stops mid-sentence.

"But?"

Was he thinking out loud? No, he wasn't. Henry Gowen isn't an old ninny mumbling to himself, not yet.

"No, no, I'm absolutely against meddling so I shouldn't say anything."

"Advice isn't meddling, so you could advise me," Henry suggests. "Even though I'll probably regret encouraging you to—"

"—to meddle?"

"That's not what I wanted to say."

Cat laughs; it's a short, breathless laugh. "All right, here's my advice. Ready?"

"I'm listening."

"If you hurt someone, apologise to them. If someone hurt you, talk it over with them. It's the easiest way and you'll feel better in the end."

Henry knits his eyebrows. "How do you know I'm in conflict with someone?"

"Henry" Cat looks at him with a piercing gaze—it's a mother-like look, which is funny coming from a woman younger than him. Well, probably younger. Henry has never thought about her exact age. She's certainly old enough to have at least one grown-up kid and definitely too young to be so ill. "You're always in conflict with someone. Of course, mostly with yourself."

"How do you know it isn't something bigger? Something that can't be resolved with an apology?"

"Really big troubles rarely stay hidden in such a small community."

Henry wonders when did she become so wise…? But it's more likely that he's becoming more stupid with every day. Such a simple solution for his problem, yet it had to be spelt out for him. Of course, there is always the chance that Abigail will refuse his apology and she has no reason to forgive him (again) but he needs to earn her forgiveness. Again. It's a never-ending story but maybe, just maybe one day he'll get it right.

"Thank you for the advice."

"Don't mention it." Cat shakes her head, grimacing. "I'm already regretting giving any. What did I think? Meddling like some gossiping old bat, seriously," she mumbles and Henry laughs. "Let's turn back before things get out of hand."

"Yes, ma'am."

-:-:-:-

Henry knocks and waits. It's quite late for a visit but he had so many good reasons not to come earlier, even though he had nothing to do all day. Since the war has started, business at the saloon is going more poorly with every passing day. Now it's only open for six days in a week. Tonight the saloon is closed, thus Henry had plenty of time to help out at the infirmary, to escort Cat on a walk—and to pay a visit to Abigail. So why the late hour?

First, he didn't want to disturb Abigail while she was busy at the café. Then, naturally, she had to attend her duties as mayor. No place for him there. Later, when Cody arrived home from school, Henry was worried he would barge into the middle of dinner—or at least, general family time. Even when he finally directed his steps towards her door, he almost turned back because Abigail must be resting by now…

Yet he stands, knocking and waiting.

He should have brought flowers. All right, maybe not such a good idea. Chocolate? Too romantic. White flag? Too direct and not funny at all, especially not in these war-ridden times.

His wandering thoughts are cut short when the door opens and he's faced with a pale and teary-eyed Abigail.

Good evening. I see this is an inconvenient time, should I come back tomorrow? Sorry I have such an awful sense of timing.

So many things Henry could say right now instead of—

"Oh, Abigail," he rather breathes than says it as he steps closer to her. He takes her hand and gently guides her inside the house where they sit down on the sofa. She lifts her free hand and covers her mouth, trying to muffle the sob that breaks up from her chest. "What's wrong?"

This question; it's wrong, Henry mentally chides himself. Me troubling her now, that's what.

"Jesse decided to enlist," Abigail says through her tears. "Jack too."

"What?"

"Remember when Jesse got the white feather? It just kept eating away at him until he couldn't bear it anymore. And Jack, well, he wants to fight the good fight." Her voice breaks. "Henry, I'm not sure anymore that it's the good fight! I know that bad things happen when good people do nothing but— But there must be good people on both sides! Good people who get hurt or die in this war because... because..."

Henry wants to hug her to comfort her but that would be a huge overstepping of boundaries so he just gently squeezes her hand.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this." He tries to keep his voice soft, barely above a whisper. "But we'll pray for them and wait for them. The war won't last forever and they will return to us, safe and sound. We must believe that Jack and Jesse will come back!"

Abigail nods and dries her eyes with a handkerchief. "I believe but it's- it's hard."

"I know. You had to be strong today when they broke you the news, didn't you? Elizabeth and Clara needed your support. Jack and Jesse needed you to be strong." Henry can picture the scene easily. "So you were strong for them. You're always strong and you're always there for everyone. Even for the ungrateful devils like me."

"Henry, about your brother—"

But he puts a finger to her lips. "We'll talk about that—later. You've always supported me so now I want to help you. This isn't the time to talk about my problems; it's time to take the weight off your shoulders."

"Thank you," she whispers, her breath tickling his finger and he quickly withdraws his hand. "Please, pray with me."

"Gladly."

And they clasp their hand and bow their heads and together they pray. There might not be peace in Europe but there is peace between the two of them.