Elizabeth doesn't need to ask the mothers of the town to know that the symptoms she's been showing the past few weeks are signalling that she is pregnant. She wasn't suspicious when she began to feel fatigued and tender all over her body, but when she missed her time of the month, hope blossomed in her heart. And when smells and tastes that didn't bother her before made her nauseated, she knew that a new life was growing inside her. The thought is both joyous and terrifying.

She has always wanted to become a mother — she just didn't expect to be miles away from the child's father during her pregnancy. Her first instinct is to sit down and write a letter to Jack. But then she has barely written down 'Dear Jack' when she pauses. Maybe she should consult with Carson first, before sending her message across the ocean.

"Oh, Jack," Elizabeth sighs, putting down her pen. "I can't do this to you."

Nevertheless, she wants to share the news with someone, so she puts on her coat and heads to Abigail's. On her way there she wonders if she should mention the letter by the mining company as well, but quickly discards the idea. Abigail has had a lot on her plate lately with Cody's sickness and running the café, and Elizabeth is about to burden her with her own secret. Also, apart from not overwhelming her friend, she has an even better reason to keep silent — it's not her story to tell.

Nor Reverend Anderson's, as a matter of fact.

"Reverend? Is all that true?"

The reverend turned around, shocked to learn that someone was an earwitness to their disagreement.

"Yes. Yes, it is." He straightened up, before handing her the letter. "You may check it for yourself."

Elizabeth hesitated, but decided to decline the offer. She had already heard the contents of the letter, and some more, and now she needed to do something about it. Or not.

"The people of Hope Valley deserve to know this."

"Perhaps, but shouldn't Henry be the one telling them?"

"Do you think that he will do it?"

"I don't know. Maybe he will, maybe he won't." Elizabeth sighed. "With due respect, Reverend, I don't think that we have a say in this."

"Do you think we should just let him get away with this?"

"I'm not sure he's getting away with anything. Henry has changed a lot over the past few years. Is it so hard to imagine that he is a different man now?"

Reverend Anderson huffed in disbelief, then shook his head.

"I admit that I might be a little prejudiced when it comes to Henry Gowen. However, it would be beneath me to spread rumours. I confronted him about the letter, thus giving him the opportunity to say his piece of mind."

Thinking that it was also a great opportunity for the reverend to give Henry his opinion, Elizabeth smiled a little, but quickly suppressed it.

"Now it's his turn" the reverend went on "to battle his conscience."

"And I'm sure he does so every day." She held out her hand. "I think we should give him back his letter. I'll do it, if you'd like."

"Probably that's for the best."

The rain starts to fall and Elizabeth quickens her steps. Now, remembering their conversation, she feels a little remorse — while she had eagerly advised the reverend to keep the contents of the letter between them, the idea of showing it to Abigail crossed her mind. She shudders at the thought that she would be someone who talks the talk but does not walk the walk.

No, Elizabeth thinks firmly, if she ever discusses it with anyone, she'll discuss it with Henry.

A medical examination and a whole school day later Elizabeth decides to pay Henry a visit. However, she finds that she is knocking in vain, nobody is answering the door. The snow starts to fall in soft, fat flakes, and she is ready to give up - when Henry exits the Montgomerys' house, without his coat and his head uncovered.

"Henry!" Elizabeth waves at him.

He waves back uncertainly, then crosses the garden and opens the door.

"Ah. It wasn't locked."

"Yeah, I just— I just popped over to ask if they needed anything." With an awkward gesture, he invites her in. "I hope you didn't freeze to the threshold."

"No, no, it's fine. I don't want to hold you up." Nevertheless, Elizabeth steps in because some things shouldn't be said over the doorstep. "I believe this letter belongs to you."

Henry's face immediately closes down but he takes the letter from her without a word.

"I didn't read it but I accidentally overheard your conversation with the reverend."

"I see."

"Henry, when I first came to this town six years ago, everyone blamed you for the mining accident."

"So they should."

"But no one has ever known that you tried to do the right thing."

"Well, I tried and it didn't save a single one of those men's lives."

"It's not your fault," Elizabeth says and, much to her own surprise, she means it.

There used to be a time when she (just like everyone in town) blamed him for all the bad things, and God knows that Henry had his fair share in shaping his reputation. But for a while he has been trying to work for the community, not against it, and Elizabeth knows that it's not simply an ex-convict's game to avoid prison. If there's one thing she has learnt about Henry, it's that he wouldn't be taking great pains for appearances' sake.

"I didn't do enough, Elizabeth."

"It is not your fault," she repeats firmly. Then, remembering his conversation with the reverend, she adds, "Henry, you are not the man people think you are."

A dry smile appears on his face, but not in his eyes. "I'm sure you mean that as a compliment."

"I do. I think it's time you stopped living in the past. It's time to move on from that terrible tragedy."

"I don't know how."

For a moment, Henry looks very vulnerable and suddenly Elizabeth feels so awed by the sight that she needs to look away.

"I understand that. I really do."

She knows that it's easier to be said than to be done, that in his place she'd have trouble following her own advice. And yet, she also knows that there is time for grieving and there is time for recovering - and if Henry doesn't let the wound left by the tragedy of the mine heal, it will fester and poison his whole life.

"Are you coming to the dance?"

"What dance?"

It's a small wonder he hasn't heard about it yet. Elizabeth and Abigail ran into Rosemary right after their visit to the infirmary, and she didn't even bother to ask them which one of them was in need of a doctor, she was so preoccupied with her own latest idea — a Christmas dance. In her elevated spirit, Elizabeth hastily agreed to help out, and Abigail was not to be outdone, naturally, promising to bring her most popular dishes and desserts.

"Rosemary is organizing a Christmas dance."

"Of course she is."

"And? Will you come?"

"No, I don't think so."

Of course, Elizabeth could say as well, but she tries to persuade him instead.

"Please, stop by. It will be festive."

For a moment, Henry hesitates before saying, "Yeah, maybe I will."

Elizabeth gives him her brightest smile. That's one step towards healing.

"Great. No presents required, just your presence."

On her way home, Elizabeth thinks of the little life growing inside of her. She can't imagine how she will be able to fit all the joy, fear and excitement she is feeling into a single letter — or when Jack will come back to them. To her and her child. But she knows that until he comes back, she will count on the help of a caring community where true remorse can earn forgiveness and where all the prodigal sons are welcomed back.