The week between Christmas and New Year's was pleasant enough, but Ruby found the beginning of January, with its dreary insistence that the celebrations were now over, begin to weigh on her. True, the break from the extra tasks that came with Christmas was a relief, but after the visit with the Nolans, she found the days stretched out before her with such bleakness that she needed a new project to keep from thinking about it at all.
How could March still be so far away?
Then again, she was glad to be able to throw herself into preparations for the baby. Though she was sad to see Archie take the tree down after they'd carefully packed the decorations away, the use of her sewing machine was well worth the exchange.
She was also glad when Archie was able to get back to town after a few weeks of being snowed in. Perhaps she had been with them for so long already, but there was a certain thrill to his return after a day in Storybrooke.
"What did-ja bring me, Pa?" August asked, rushing over to his father when he came in the door one Saturday evening.
Ruby laughed as she followed after August, feeling a little too clumsy and slow to keep up with his abundant energy. "Woah, August, let your pa get in the door!"
Archie chuckled as he hung up his hat and coat. "Not much, I'm afraid," he said as he turned around. "Though I do have a couple of letters for Miss Ruby."
Ruby froze before delight shot through her. "Granny!" she cried, all but snatching them from Archie's outstretched hand. "Thank you!"
Tears blurred her vision as she glanced down to see her grandmother's neat cursive across the front. She glanced around the room, wondering where the best place would be to savour a taste of home.
August and Archie were busy at the kitchen table, so Ruby rushed to the bedroom and shut the door. She hugged her shawl tightly around her against the chill of the room and sat near the top of her bed closest to the window to read by the faint light still coming in.
"Oh, Granny," Ruby breathed as she started the first letter, a lump rising in her throat as tears threatened to spill.
My dearest Ruby,
I am so glad to hear that you and Peter have arrived safely! You must be tired, and I pray that that boy will get a roof over your head quickly.
Ruby chuckled, though she couldn't stop a tear from rolling down her cheek onto the page as emotion swelled in her chest to hear her grandmother's no-nonsense voice so clearly.
Now, be sure to remember everything I told you. I know in the heat of early autumn, you will feel like you have plenty of time before winter, but don't be
foolish! You are not in Boston anymore. You'll want to get four walls up around you, and store up plenty of food for the winter. Make friends of your
neighbours! They will also be able to advise you on how to best navigate your first year.
Ruby bit her lip as she scanned her grandmother's letter, eager to take in every word as fast as she could. True to her grandmother's form, the letter was brief, and held more instruction than flowery sentiment, but Ruby thought she would burst at the ending.
For all the grief I give you, I'm pleased as punch for you both. Take care of each other, and don't forget to write your old grandmother now and again. I may
be in Boston, but I still need to keep an eye on you!
All my love,
Your Granny
Ruby threw the letter onto the quilt beside her and tore into the next one, bracing for the shift in tone she knew would surely follow.
Oh my dear child,
—Ruby took a deep breath to steady herself, willing herself to get through the letter without too many tears—
I can't even imagine what you are going through right now. My heart breaks for you in this time of loss, but you must know you have very little time for grief.
I wish I could ride out to you this moment, but I must settle for these words.
By the time this reaches you, you will have already made many difficult choices. Be careful, girl, for you need to take care of yourself and your unborn child!
I am glad to hear you have found shelter for the winter. I know it couldn't have been easy to wed so soon after Peter's death, but rest assured that
sometimes you must do such impossible things. You are strong and you have a good head on your shoulders—you will get through this!
Please, be wary and wise. I pray that your new husband is kind, but be careful not to be too trusting. To be blunt, many men wouldn't think twice of
taking advantage of their due as a husband, and while I am glad you are saved the danger of being a vulnerable widow in such a godless frontier, your new
arrangement may come with its own obstacles.
Ruby wiped her eyes, clearing her vision before she could continue.
Most of all, know that I am counting down the days until you and your little one can return to me. I know it feels like an eternity, but it will only be a few
short months until we see each other again.
Be strong! And know that I love you with all my heart.
Yours always,
Granny
As she read the final words, Ruby let the tears stream down her face as she pressed the letter to her chest. A whole throng of emotions washed over her, everything jumbled together, tossing about like pebbles in a rushing current. For a moment, she was a child again, wishing more than anything that she could crawl into her grandmother's lap and cry until she ran dry of tears, to have her grandmother rock her as she held her tight, "shushing" her and telling her that everything would be okay.
And with that, an ache rose in her chest to think of the fears her grandmother held for her. Perhaps her senses had been dulled in her grief, but Ruby hadn't thought about the dangers that could come from wedding Archie. She had been consumed only by the utter heartbreak at taking another man as her husband.
Reading her grandmother's letters dug up the grief she had buried—the letters forcing her to relive those awful days. A time of heartbreak and uncertainty, which felt so far away from the Christmas and New Year's she'd just celebrated, now so fresh.
Was she forgetting Peter? Was she actually enjoying her new life?
Perhaps for the first time, Ruby realized that she'd never had a reason to fear Archie—and, perhaps, she had taken that for granted. Granny was right—she could have found herself tethered to a man who would not have even been considered cruel to extract her wifely duties from her. Ruby shuddered at the thought and rubbed her stomach, and she glanced at the door as if to remind herself the goodness of the man—the father—who was on the other side.
No, whatever troubles she'd had to deal with, she was grateful to Providence or God for where she'd ended up.
Still, despite the realization, Ruby found herself exhausted as she reread her grandmother's words a few more times in the fading light. A knock at the door made her jump, realizing how late it was. "Just a moment!" she called, tucking the letters in a drawer and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
She opened the door to see Archie, his brow creased in concern, and it reminded Ruby of their earlier interactions back in September when she'd first come to live with him.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft and deep so that it shot through her.
She offered him a small, wet smile. "Yes."
"Do you want me and August to take care of ourselves for supper? If you need more time alone—"
Ruby shook her head quickly. "No, no—I'll be right there," she said, wiping under her eyes. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."
"It's okay," Archie assured her, and Ruby locked her eyes with his. "Take all the time you need."
Ruby felt Archie's watchful eye for the next few days, but he seemed to relax when he was convinced that she was okay. Perhaps it was a little unnecessary, but Ruby was grateful for the excuse to press on with her tasks, refusing to let a new wave of grief wash over her.
She quickly wrote her grandmother a reply and sent it off with Archie the next Saturday he was back to town. Ruby noticed that, in addition to his usual Saturday visits, his mysterious trips to town had resumed while the weather was good, arousing her suspicions when he returned with nothing. She longed to ask him what it was all about, but she bit her tongue.
One Sunday, she watched him head out on his usual weekly outing, Pongo at his side. She waited a few moments after the door had shut behind him to rush to the window to see in which direction he was heading.
Curiosity beat in her chest, and she couldn't resist the open air and the chance of a new discovery.
"August, you stay here and continue your sums. You can even move on to your reading, if you prefer, while I'm gone. I'm just going to get some air." She grabbed her coat and buttoned it up over her shawl as best she could.
She barely had time to hear August grumbling before she was out the door, shutting it behind her with a satisfying click.
The air held more bite than normal and the sky was overcast. Still, Ruby was glad for the escape from the four walls of the cabin.
She noticed Archie's large tracks and long strides in the snow, accompanied by Pongo's paw prints. She followed the trail in the direction in which she saw them disappear, taking careful steps to not give herself away.
She came upon a small cluster of birch trees, a gathering so thin the she could see Archie seated on the other side, Pongo on his rump beside him. He used a fallen log as a bench, and his perch was carefully chosen on top of a hill, overlooking a great valley, similar to the view that Ruby and Peter had first seen when they arrived.
The view was majestic, even in the heart of winter—the snow cloaked the treeline so that both the evergreen trees and the bare branches of those who had lost their leaves looked soft to the touch under a blanket of white.
Ruby held her breath, hiding in the midst of the trees, not daring to approach any closer, not daring to twitch a muscle lest she give herself away.
Archie's back was to her, and he seemed so caught up in the view. She strained to hear if he was saying something, and she thought she heard music.
Was he singing?
She had always wondered what exactly he did when he disappeared on his Sunday outings, but now she felt like she was invading on a sacred moment. And yet—she couldn't look away. There was something reverent about this spot, though it was just a log in the snow on a hill, and she was drawn to the words he sung.
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love. Take my heart, Lord, take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above.
Ruby stood and listened, hunched over slightly as she leaned on a tree trunk. She thought she recognized the tune—perhaps she and Granny had sung it from the old hymn books back at church. She hadn't thought much of the music, but perhaps that was because it was led by a preacher who couldn't carry a tune and looked like he would rather damn you to hell than save your soul.
With Archie, she could hear—and see as he raised his hands to the heavens—that these words meant something. His voice was so clear and melodic and he seemed to truly believe the words he was singing, offering them up to God.
Ruby froze when he stopped singing, scared that he was about to turn around to discover an intruder. Instead, he began to speak, and Ruby realized he was praying.
It should have been comical, a grown man talking to himself, and maybe Ruby would have chuckled a few months ago. But she'd seen Archie's steadfast faith at work, and she had wondered if it was the reason for his calm nature. She recalled the stories from the Bible they'd read, particularly the nativity story, and Ruby felt a stirring in her heart, wondering if she could ever know God like that.
Suddenly, Ruby heard the whinny of a horse, and she gasped as she spun around, searching for the source of the noise.
"Prince?" Ruby whispered, her eyes wide to see a chestnut horse a few yards away.
Her heart rose in her throat as she took steady steps towards the creature, careful not to scare him away. Had the horse that had caused her all this trouble really found her?
She continued taking slow steps, made even more difficult by the deep snow and her large size. Each step seemed to take her further away from the animal, and she shivered as the wind whipped around her.
She continued like that for countless paces. "Prince!" she finally shouted, desperate to reach him. Exhaustion crept in around her, and she suddenly realized the thick snow falling, made even more threatening by the wind that grew more and more fierce.
Panic began to rise as Ruby looked around and saw no recognizable landmarks.
Tears stung her eyes as she pressed forward, praying the direction she'd started in was the right one. Her legs burned with each step and she longed for the warmth of the cabin. She fought the weight that hung in her limbs, her steps dragging against the pull that threatened to swallow her. The next thing she knew, the ground rose up to her right before the world faded to black.
Archie shoved open the door to the cabin and let Pongo in as the wind whipped the snow all around them. He breathed a sigh of relief to be safe from the impending storm until he caught August's eye and froze.
The boy's eyes were wide. "August, what's wrong?" Archie asked, his heart in his throat. "Where's Ruby?"
"She's not with you?" the boy asked, his voice small.
Archie's pulse began to race, and he grabbed the gun from the pegs over the door and thrust it to August.
"She left right after you, Pa," August explained.
"I'm going to go get her," Archie said as calmly as he could. "You know what to do—if I'm not back in ten minutes, you go outside and put it straight up and keep shooting."
August gripped the gun and nodded.
"Pongo, you stay here, boy." Archie bent down and kissed August's head before he left, bracing for the snowy wall outside.
He lifted his arm against the snow that beat at him, wincing to try to see what he could. He started off in the direction he'd come, hoping she wouldn't be far from the house.
"Ruby!" he yelled, though he felt frustratingly powerless against the howling wind. "Ruby!"
He tried to fight the panic that rose within him, terrified that he was in a losing battle as what light there was was quickly fading. Oh, Lord, please help me find her. Please let everything be okay.
He kept his paces steady, straining to see a few feet ahead of him. Each breath he dragged into his lungs stung, but he pressed on, trying to keep his breathing even. "Ruby!" he cried, his voice hoarse.
Suddenly, he thought he saw movement to his right that had nothing to do with the whirling snow.
He willed his eyes to focus in that direction and caught a flash of red.
"Ruby!" he cried for the countless time, lunging in that direction. The red shape grew larger, but he stopped in his tracks when he realized she was surrounded by something.
Wolves.
The realization shot fear through Archie, and he began praying like never before.
Slowly, he approached the animals, wishing that he'd brought his gun. Then again, it would do very little against such a pack. At best, he could have taken out one or two before the rest would snatch his life from him in a quick bite or a fierce swipe of the paw.
As he grew closer, he tried to calculate the best method to give them both the greatest chance of escape—however unlikely.
He held his breath and approached with careful steps, crouching down and keeping his gaze lowered to avoid looking like a threat, all while trying to keep his eyes on Ruby.
He was a few feet away, and still, he couldn't tell if she was even alive. His mind raced, trying to decide if he should just go for broke and rush through them.
And then, the strangest thing happened—they backed away. Archie froze, watching these massive animals that, while they had at first appeared to be circling their next feast, instead seemed to be protecting her from the storm.
He didn't have time to question the sight and instead rushed through the opening towards the woman in the snow, her red coat draped around her.
"Ruby," he breathed, snatching her in his arms, terrified that he was too late, panic coursing through his veins. She let out a grown and turned her head towards him as he lifted her up, and relief washed over him in such force that his knees almost buckled underneath him.
"I've got you," he murmured, holding her close so that her head rested on his chest, tucked under his chin.
He took a deep breath as he looked around to reorient himself. To his surprise, the wolves were gone, and he wondered if he'd dreamt the whole thing.
Shaking his head, he took a step forward, praying he was retracing his steps.
"Come on, August," he muttered, ducking his head against the wind that beat the snow against them. He strained to hear the gunshots that would lead them home, and terror began to rise again when he could only hear the violent whistle of the blizzard.
Then, he heard it—a banging coming from a little bit to his left. He turned his paces to that direction, his eyes burning as he fought to see through his glasses wet with snow.
"We're almost there," he told Ruby as the banging grew louder. The house couldn't be far.
After what seemed like ages, Archie was able to make out the rough shadow of the cabin, which grew more clear with a haze of light coming through the windows. Archie pushed forward, eager to assure August that everything was okay almost as much as he yearned for the safety of the cabin.
And there he was, the redheaded boy who looked so small in the doorway, banging a pot with a ladle held up above his head as if his life depended on it.
"Pa!" he shouted in relief, stepping back to let him enter with Ruby in his arms. Then, fear coloured his voice as he shut the door behind them and scrambled after his pa to the bedroom. "Is she alright?"
Archie couldn't let his son know he wondered the same thing. "Grab me a pail of snow and bring it here," Archie instructed as he placed Ruby on the bed. "Quickly!"
Archie fumbled with his buttons and shrugged his coat off, letting it drop to the floor in order to free up his own movements to better help Ruby. He relaxed only slightly to see her breathing was even, but a hand to her cheek told him her skin was ice cold.
Wasting no time, he took off her coat and threw it to August's bed. Next, he took off her dress and underskirts, as well as her shoes and stockings, everything soaked through.
August came in and dropped the pail of snow at the end of the bed.
"Now, go add more logs to the fire," Archie told August, his eyes never leaving Ruby. "Keep the bedroom door open—we need to make her warm."
Archie only heard rather than saw August behind him, the clatter of logs being added to the hearth with a few thuds.
Archie wished he'd thought to bring his bag of supplies into the house, but he hadn't used them for so long. He should have known to have them close at hand with the baby's impending arrival, but for now, he'd have to make do with what he had, being separated from his trunk in the barn by a howling blizzard.
"Stay with me, Ruby," he muttered, having stripped her of her garments right down to her undershirt. Without the bulk of her clothing, he pressed his ear to her chest to check her breathing and heartbeat. He relaxed slightly to hear her even breaths and a strong pulse, which he confirmed with a grip to her wrist.
Fear still hammered in his chest as he moved to her stomach and prodded gently. He thought he sensed movement and prayed that the child would kick once the mother was warmer. He pressed an ear to her stomach, wishing he had his tools with him to properly sense a heartbeat. There seemed to be no cause for concern, but he wouldn't let himself rest easy yet.
Her feet now bare, Archie took them in his hands and rubbed them with snow to warm them up slowly, guarding against frostbite. The room was almost dark, save for the bit of light coming in through the doorway. The space became darker, alerting Archie to August's presence.
"Can you please light the lantern?" Archie asked over his shoulder. "And then I need you to heat up some water on the stove."
Silence came from behind him, though the room grew slightly brighter as August began his next tasks, the doorway now empty.
Archie began to dry Ruby's legs off with a blanket he'd grabbed from the end of the bed. Tossing that aside, he moved to massaging her limbs, first her arms, and then her legs, to increase the blood-flow.
He resisted the urge to cover her up right away and waited a few moments. He studied her features, almost peaceful in sleep, and his shoulders relaxed slightly to see her chest rise and fall with even breaths.
With nothing more to be done immediately, Archie went to the main room and grabbed some bricks by the front door and carefully put them in the oven before adding more kindling to the fire. Tapping his heel, he glanced around the room, mind racing with the next step.
The water was boiled, so Archie started some coffee for himself, already feeling the weariness creep into his bones. He also got out an extra cup for Ruby, setting the tin of green tea beside it on the table in anticipation of when she'd awaken.
He paced back and forth between the bedroom and the kitchen, feeling nauseous at the fact that he could do very little. August was sitting on his own bed, his legs crossed, resting his chin in his hands, his eyes fixed on Ruby.
Deciding it was time to cover her up, Archie pulled one blanket over her, carefully resting it over her chest. He felt her cheeks and forehead, grateful that she was warming up, but fear niggled in him that she could soon have a fever.
And all he could do was wait.
For a little while, he sat on the bed with August as they kept watch over Ruby. Every now and then she would stir, and Archie's heart would race before she fell quiet again, her face pale in the lamplight.
Archie realized that neither of them had had supper, and though August insisted he wasn't hungry—echoing Archie's own sentiment—he made them eat some bread and butter. Then, it was time for August to get into bed, and though the boy protested, he fell asleep quickly, much to Archie's relief.
The bricks in the oven were now hot, and he carefully wrapped them in cloth before placing them by Ruby's feet under the covers. To assuage his own concerns—or at least pretend he could do something—he checked her pulse again, assured that it was getting stronger. He also examined her belly, and, though the child was more still than he hoped, there was enough movement to suggest there was no immediate danger.
The room was strangely quiet, save for the wind howling outside, beating the snow against the sturdy walls of the cabin. The flame of the lamp cast shadows about the room, and he could catch the flickering of the hearth outside the bedroom door, sending shadows dancing on one side of the bedroom.
He brought a chair in from the kitchen and placed it beside Ruby, resigned to the fact that there was very little else he could do but keep watch over her.
He fought to keep his eyes open, though he was helpless to the weight that pulled him downwards, and he eventually rested his head on the edge of the bed, his arm his pillow. He took off his spectacles and set them on the table under the window, rubbing his eyes as he tried to sit up for a few moments.
August's steady breaths, not quite snores, lulled him to rest his eyes for a moment.
Ruby stirred again, a whimper or two escaping. Archie shot up and searched her features for any signs of distress, and though her brow creased for a moment as she tossed and turned, she soon relaxed into a deeper sleep. Archie let out a sigh, only then aware that he was holding his breath.
"Pa? Is she okay?"
Archie turned around, realizing the darkness of the room without the lamp, which must have burned out.
He gave his son a small smile. "Yes, she's okay."
"And the baby?" The boy's voice was so tiny and it tugged at Archie's chest.
"The baby is fine," Archie said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He shifted over to sit on August's bed. "Now it's time for you to go back to sleep, okay?"
August didn't answer, instead throwing a glance at Ruby—or, what he thought was directed towards Ruby. Archie was about to protest when his son moved as if to get out of bed until he realized he was stretching towards the little table between the beds. He was almost out from the covers completely as he reached for the larger wooden wolf figurine and pushed it so it was as close to Ruby as it could be without falling of the edge.
"There," he said with a self-satisfied nod.
Archie smiled, his heart full at the gesture, and August shimmied under the quilts and lay down on his pillow. He pulled the blankets up to the boy's chin and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Good night, Son."
August drifted back to sleep quickly, leaving Archie alone with his thoughts, which he struggled to focus into prayers. He longed for sleep, himself, but didn't want to leave Ruby unattended.
He did dare to go into the main room to add some more logs to the fire in an effort to keep the house warm. The cabin was small, but the bedroom was still far from the reach of the hearth. He rubbed his neck as he made another pot of coffee, all of a sudden wishing for the luxury of fireplaces for every room.
Thank goodness the baby was due in March—he couldn't imagine trying to keep a newborn warm in the dead of winter.
His mind was too foggy to think through any ideas past that muddled thought. He returned to his post in the bedroom with his mug in hand, fear still eating at his stomach, his fight against the weight of sleep proving unsuccessful.
He awoke to a whimper above him, growing louder and more desperate. He sat up, blinking to focus on his surroundings in the dim light of dawn still hovering under the horizon.
Archie shoved his glasses on before turning his attention to Ruby. "Sh-h-h-h-h, Ruby, it's okay, I'm right here," he said in hushed tones. He leaned over her and brought his hand up to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, which seemed to calm her, and her movements stilled.
Her eyes fluttered open and Archie's breath hitched in his throat, a smile instinctively spreading over his features. "H-hey," he stammered as her eyes met his, and his heart felt like it would burst at this sign of life.
Thank You, Lord.
And yet, her eyes were full of such pain as two matching tears ran down her cheeks. Her green eyes were as dark as a storm, and Archie felt an ache in his chest as he caught a glimpse of whatever battle she was fighting.
"It's all my fault," she whispered so quietly that Archie almost didn't catch the words.
"What? No, Ruby, no, it's not your fault," he said softly. He wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but he suspected she was talking about more than her foray into the blizzard.
She looked away, unable to stop the tears from coming. She moved her hands to her stomach, and only then did Archie realize he had been holding the hand that was closest to him, his gaze moving from his hand back to her face as he sat back in his chair.
"I… I let Prince escape," Ruby said, still looking away, and Archie had to strain to hear her.
"What do you mean?" he asked carefully and leaned forward, sensing that there was something more she needed to say.
She licked her lips before she continued, her gaze fixed out the window. "I… I went out for a ride. On Prince. And… and I thought I tied him up again. But then, in the morning, he'd escaped."
Archie nodded, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together in a fist, piecing together what she was telling him.
"It was stupid—so stupid. And Peter just rode off to find him. He was supposed to come back." She paused and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to keep the tears at bay. "He didn't come back… b-because of me!"
A sob overtook her and Archie jumped over to the bed and took Ruby in his arms in one swift motion as she rose up to meet him. She clung to him in an awkward embrace, her body shaking as she let her silent sobs consume her.
Archie swallowed, his mouth dry as he tried to find the words to banish the guilt that weighed on her. "No, Ruby, it's not your fault—this was never your fault," he said over and over again, feeling the desperation as her fingers dug into him, and he held her tightly.
She gripped him as close as she was able, her stomach pressed against him as she clung to him for a long while. Her sobs melted to shudders and her grip began to relax. Archie stroked her back a couple of times before she pulled back and took a deep breath, running her fingers under her eyes.
"I'm s-sorry," Ruby hiccupped, wiping her cheeks dry with both hands.
Archie thought his heart would break as he realized the burden she'd been carrying all this time. "Ruby, you had nothing to do with Peter's accident,"—he rested his hands on her forearms as if to emphasize his point—"do you hear me? There's nothing you could have done. The horse escaped, and Peter had to go after him."
Ruby finally met his gaze, and his eyes flitted back and forth to study hers, wet and filled with exhaustion—and maybe the smallest glimmer of relief.
Slowly, she nodded before she dropped her gaze. Archie shifted to the top of the bed and helped her sit up so she could rest on his shoulder with his arm around her as he sat on the edge on top of the quilt. He realized his left shoulder was soaked through, but he didn't care in the least.
That was how August found them when he awoke a short while later. His eyes widened as he shot out of bed and his face lit up. "Miss Ruby!" he cried, throwing himself at her before Archie could warn him to be careful.
"Hi, August," Ruby greeted warmly, giving the boy a hug.
"Okay, you've said hello, now it's time to get changed and get to your chores before breakfast," Archie instructed sternly, though not without a smile peeking through. August nodded and grabbed his clothes with his boyish energy and soon he bounded off. Archie could hear the rustling of fabric as he bundled up to go collect the eggs.
A thought dawned on Archie and he jumped up, running to catch the boy before he got too far.
"August!" he called out the main door. "Can you please feed the animals in the barn as well?"
He got no more than a "'kay!" and a wave of the hand from August, but that was enough for him.
He quickly shut the door to keep the warmth inside and turned to boil more water on the stove. With a mug of coffee for himself and another of tea for Ruby, he returned to the bedroom, where Ruby was slumped against the pillows.
She brightened when he came in and sat up as best she could, though Archie noticed she was still pale, her eyes puffy and rimmed with dark shadows.
"Here you go," he said, handing her her mug before he took a seat on the chair.
She smiled her thanks before taking a long sip. She breathed in the steam that rose up, and Archie warmed to see her well after the long night.
After a pause, she met his gaze. "I'm sorry… about this," she said softly.
Archie shook his head. "No need—I'm just glad you're doing okay." He wished he could say more, but anything that came to mind seemed clumsy and awkward.
Finally, he asked, "Do you want me to leave you to rest? Or do you want something to eat?"
It was Ruby's turn to shake her head. She licked her lips, parting them briefly as if she want to say something before closing them again. Archie offered her a small smile before he took another sip of his drink.
"Peter and I were married shortly before we came out west," she said suddenly, and Archie straightened in his seat, eager to hear whatever she wanted to tell him—though he couldn't deny it felt strange to be reminded of her first husband, however odd that was to admit even to himself.
She glanced down at her mug as her words toppled out, one over the other. "We'd known each other for a couple of years, when he and his father moved to the area. He was training to be a blacksmith under his pa," she explained. "I was with Granny at the boarding house." She looked up at Archie and he nodded. "My mother died when I was a baby, and we never knew my father, so it was always just Granny and me and the house she ran."
Archie's heart swelled to be trusted enough to hear about Ruby's past—and he longed to know more. Even so, he kept silent, waiting for her to continue in her own time.
"We were young and stupid and wanted adventure in the frontier." She let out a sad chuckle and dropped her gaze again, and Archie knew the cynicism that lay behind the smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Granny insisted that Peter be able to support us before we got married, so we had to wait a year. Besides, we wanted to be ready, so we had to plan for the best time to join the wagon train."
She met his gaze. "We… we would have been married a year come February," she said softly. "And I… I never got a chance to tell him about the baby."
Archie's heart rose to his throat, and he could see tears well up in her eyes before they spilled over, and she didn't bother to wipe them away.
He set their mugs down on the table and shifted over to the bed, wrapping her in his arms again. "It's okay," he murmured as she hugged him back, and he stroked her hair, wondering if this was the first time she'd really let herself grieve. Archie took a deep breath, overwhelmed with the pain that she'd been holding inside, and he wished he could take some of that on for her sake.
Soon, she was fast asleep, leaving Archie to close the bedroom door behind him before he turned his attention to the other needs of the day.