She woke, thinking this was another one of those delusions. Then the memory came back to her – the body behind hers was no figment of her imagination, the hand on her belly, the other on her breast, they were very real.

She exhaled, realisation paralysing her. They weren't married – not any more, not ever, in fact. And yet, here she was in his bed.

"Are you all right?" He whispered behind her ear.

She closed her eyes, his warm breath on her neck too much. "I can't do this." She cried, "How did this ever happen?"

"It's okay, it's going to be all right." He hugged her tighter.

Finding her last shred of strength she pulled away. She stood in the cold, not caring that he saw all of her, found her clothes and dressed.

"Christy, you can't just leave. I don't care what the law says – in the eyes of God, of all our friends and family, we are married."

"No," she turned on him, shaking her head, "We're not."

"The ceremony wasn't valid – is that what you're worried about?" He sat up, went to get out of bed, to go after her.

"You were still – you are still married to Margaret. My father took care of it when I was in Ashville – had it annulled. We are not married."

He blanched, sat down, stared the space between them.

Seeing his reaction, she felt terrible, but there was no use pretending everything could just turn out fine and dandy.

"So my marriage to Margaret will haunt me forever, but my marriage to you just... never happened?"

She bit back tears, "Yes." She fled.

He didn't realise for a moment that she'd gone, then did, and threw a blanket around his waist and ran to catch her. "Christy, wait. What about the..?"

She stopped at the door, her hand on the latch.

He stopped on the stairs. "What about the baby?"

"I don't know."

He walked down the stairs, still holding the blanket around himself. "Are you going back to Ashville?"

She shook her head. "Miss Alice has been... she'll help."

"So will I." He watched her, saw the pain in her expression, though she wouldn't look at him. "Unless you really can't stand to be around me."

She exhaled. "That is not the problem; I want nothing more. But I can't just fall into your arms, and your bed, every time I feel like it."

"Blast the bit of paper, you absolutely can."

"No." She shook her head and headed out into the icy winter morning.

He had every intention of going after her, but by the time he was half-dressed his resolve had weakened. Maybe she needed some space to figure out what she wanted. No amount of talking was going to convince her that she'd done nothing wrong – that their being together was not wrong.

His cabin was freezing. Even the bed was cold now. He finished dressing and went down to build a fire. He was just about to light it when a knock came at the door.

He was up and opening the door so fast, no doubt in his mind that she'd come back. But it was Alice Henderson.

"Have you seen Christy? She didn't come home last night."

"She was here." Neil turned away, went back to lighting the fire, leaving the door open for Alice to enter if she pleased.

"And now?"

"She left."

"She told you, I take it?" She stepped inside and shut the door.

He nodded, slumping back to sit on the floor, watching the little flames grow and spread through the brush, catching the kindling.

"She's terrified Neil. Take it from me."

"This is not the same." He turned to her, got up off the floor. "I want to be that child's father – I want to be her husband – but she won't let me."

"I think we both know she wants that as well."

He leaned on the mantelpiece, sighing heavily. "How could she do it?"

"Christy has done nothing wrong."

"No – Margaret."

Alice paced, "She thought of no one but herself. You and I might be able to take a little of the blame, but it was her selfishness and disregard," Alice put her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob. "I don't know." She pulled it together, for his sake, "As too often happens, the innocent suffer the most."

He turned to face her, new resolve building. "Margaret and I will be divorced in just a few weeks. I know it's not... perfect." He sat down to put on his boots. "I have to make her see that it's not wrong."

"You know what's struck me these past few weeks, since she's known? She's not sad about the baby – she's happy." Alice shook her head. "That is one incredibly brave young woman. She has lost everything – she can't go back to her old life, her friends in the city, she can't stay here and pretend like it never happened, she'll have to stop teaching, for a while at least. And as far as she's concerned, she's lost you as well. Everything that means anything to her... she feels totally alone." Alice sighed. "She still plans to teach those children till she's showing. There's not a selfish bone in her body."

Neil put on his jacket. "I can't just let her go, Alice. It can't be a sin – is it?" He shook his head, "Surely, in God's eyes..."

"I don't know." Alice shook her head. "Christy thinks it is." She followed Neil outside.

"I couldn't believe in a God that was so demanding, so vengeful. It was her God, the God of love and light, forgiveness, grace, joy... that was why I believed. How can she believe that God would demand this of her?"

"She's not thinking about it like that." Alice mounted her horse and followed Neil up the mountain, toward the mission. "Try to understand. She is in an incredibly difficult and confusing situation. You can't expect her to be the same strong and rational woman you've known."

He kicked Charlie in the flanks and sped up.

Alice let him go, looked up to the sky, and begged for an answer, a happy ending – no, better, a new beginning. She thought of Margaret, wondered where she was, how she could ever have let them believe she was dead. "Oh Lord, do something. My little girl is so lost." She looked to the trail, knowing she should be careful in the patchy snow and frozen mud. "And Neil and Christy – they're lost too, in a way. Let them find each other."