A/N: So, the plan was to stop this fic at Chapter 50, but I think I may go a few beyond that. I hope no one minds :) but I just feel that I won't quite be done with them yet and don't want to stop only to add an epilogue later on - would much rather keep it one fic.

A world of thanks to brenna-louise, who faithfully betas and answers my endless questions about this never-ending story. Also, a shout-out to Hogwarts Duo and dillydallyy, who both contributed in their own way. I am so blessed to have the support of my friends as I move forward with this tale.

The quotes used here are from the song which will appear in the wedding chapter (which, for enquiring minds, is 49).

xx

CSotA

In the struggle you hold sacred,

When the arrows pierce you through,

In the love that flows between us,

May your courage be renewed ...

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

The sounds of the horses whinnying in the distance carried through the open windows of the house. It was mid-afternoon, and the sky was bright with sunshine. As she was changing her clothes, Elsie looked outside and saw the laundry flapping on the line; part of her wondered if it was dry enough by now to bring in, but she knew Charles would get it when he came back from picking the kids up from drama practice at school.

Elsie reflected back to last week when each child had chosen, independently, to participate in this year's school play. She smiled as she remembered having laughed out loud when both kids had come home from school last Wednesday and had actually argued at the dinner table about who would get to talk first about their day. Each was so eager to reveal a "surprise," completely ignorant of the fact that they had the same surprise to share. Daisy, who would never speak in as public a space as a stage, explained that she'd be helping behind-the-scenes with moving props about and how she also had been asked to design the cover of the program; Tommy was eager to share that he'd tried out for - and had been awarded - the lead role. It was a monumental experience for both of them, and Elsie and Charles couldn't have been prouder.

But as Elsie buttoned her jeans and put her hair up in a ponytail, she knew her slow movements belied an inner fear of what the afternoon would likely bring: a failure, once again, to complete the task to which she had set herself. Heading out of the bedroom and downstairs, Elsie grabbed her boots when she saw them on the steps; she then sat on the bench by the basement door and pulled them on.

Her back hadn't hurt for a full week now, yet she wore the new brace during all of her waking hours, even at home, knowing that if she wanted to be in tip-top shape for her wedding she'd better listen very well to Richard Clarkson's suggestions from last week:

"No more pushing it too far, Elsie. That goes for, um, all activities in which you may be participating. But you can resume some regular household chores, as long as you're not bending and lifting more than ten pounds at once."

"I understand."

"Keep pressure off of your tailbone. Try to limit sitting to one half-hour at a time, and then walk around for a bit. Lie down whenever possible. You can start driving in three or four weeks, but only for very short distances and only if you're wearing the brace."

She'd taken his advice to heart, and so had Charles. Bless Charles, she thought, he's been ever so supportive. Not only was he treating Elsie's body with the utmost care during their "activities," but he was also reminding her to stand and move about. But what truly amazed her was how he was letting her do things - small things, like making dinner and putting away the laundry. And she had a goal, after all: to be almost fully recovered in time for their honeymoon. She still had no idea where they were going, apart from the fact that he'd said it was somewhere warm.

In August, she thought. So that doesn't narrow it down at all.

Elsie stood and took a deep breath. She opened the door and walked across the driveway, not sure if she was comforted or intimidated by the fact that John Bates would be in the barn waiting for her. Still, she preferred John for this particular task; Anna wouldn't push her at all, Charles was too well attuned to her emotions, and the children were out of the question.

Elsie took a turn toward the chicken coop first, as if she could delay the inevitable. She reached out to pet a couple of the friendlier girls.

"Good afternoon, loves," she said cheerfully. "Are Daisy and Tommy taking good care of you?"

She reached under a couple of the hens and found some eggs, but left them for Daisy to collect when she got home.

"Very nice work, ladies," she praised them. "I'll see you later on tonight when it's time to eat."

Exiting the henhouse, she took a deep breath, her eyes taking in the sight of the property from her vantage point: henhouse, pond, the side of the porch, and then - past the house - the garden patch that Tommy had recently tilled, ready for planting in another week, the driveway, and the paddock and barn. She started slowly up the driveway, approaching the fence but stopping just short of it. She turned to peer into the barn, and saw John filling buckets of feed, his back to her as he worked.

"Electricity's off," he said.

"Okay," she replied, not even flinching; she knew he'd heard her moving about outside. John was very like Elsie in that way - always aware of his surroundings, and attentive even when he appeared not to be.

Elsie moved forward another step and grabbed the top of the fence with her hands, squeezing tightly as she focused on breathing normally. She looked across to the other side of the paddock, mentally noting each item she saw before her and trying to remember the summer she'd put it all together …

… John helped me then, funny that he'd be the one to help me now … I remember when we put the fence posts in - God, it was hotter than hell that day! Twenty-two posts in this section, plus the criss-cross of the design … We ran the electrical ourselves … Sixty-five feet from where I'm standing to that center post over there … Good, there's a fresh bale of hay, the feed trough looks clean … The water could stand to be filled … Oh, and that spigot will have to be replaced, if I can just get in there to look at it … Deep breaths, Els-

"Elsie?" John's voice interrupted her stream-of-consciousness thinking, and she jumped a bit at the feel of his hand on her arm.

"Sorry," he added. "You don't look that great. Should we wait another day, do you think?"

But she shook her head vehemently. "No," she insisted. "I have to try every day - every day that you're here alone, anyhow. I just …" Her voice trailed off, and he only nodded as he reached for the latch.

"Everyone is locked up tight and secure," he explained calmly. "They've got snacks, and they can't get out. It's just the two of us, alright?"

Elsie gulped and nodded slowly. "Alright," she whispered, her heart racing as John reached for her hand and let go of the latch, the gate swinging open on its spring.

She squeezed his hand tightly as they made their way into the paddock. Small steps, Elsie reminded herself, knowing that John could likely feel the increase in her pulse as she gripped his hand.

"Just go slowly," he encouraged her, and she bit down on her lip and nodded again as she took another two steps in.

"We're further in than we've been before," he said softly, "and you're doing wonderfully. Just a few more feet-"

But his voice was cut off by Star's whinny from inside of his stall, which was followed immediately by a brief cry from Elsie as she froze where she stood.

"I can't," she gasped, fighting for air and clenching her eyes shut tightly.

John turned and wrapped her up in a tight hug. "You can, Elsie. You're strong, and you can do this."

"I have to … get out … but I can't … can't move," she managed, and he rubbed his hand on her back. Her heart was racing, and she knew she'd start crying uncontrollably if she stood there much longer.

"It's alright. Star can't get out, and I've got you. Come on, now - ten steps to the gate, okay? Count them with me," he coached.

She did as he asked, and as they neared the gate itself, Elsie felt a little bit of the fear seep from her body.

"How foolish," she spat, feeling the prick of tears sting her eyes even though she knew she was now safe. "The horse farmer who can't even go into her own paddock."

"It's not foolish," John reasoned calmly. "I'd wager that it's rather common after what you've experienced."

"But I'm rendered useless!" she cried, a tear spilling over her eyelid. She wiped angrily at it and turned away from the fence, but she felt John's gentle-yet-firm grip on her arm preventing her from running away.

"Elsie Hughes, you listen to me," John said calmly. "This is perfectly normal, and we made it further today than ever. How did you feel before Star decided to be the center of attention?"

She thought back. "Okay, I think. Not as bad as last week, but not … not normal, I suppose. Not like I should feel."

"But better than before, which means you've made some progress," he said steadily.

"It's been weeks that we've been trying, John! I haven't made enough, I can tell you that."

He sighed deeply, and she turned her head to face him.

"Spill it, John. I can practically hear the gears in your brain shifting and clicking. What are you thinking?"

He pursed his lips and looked at her, then tilted his head slightly in agreement.

"Okay, I will. I think you need help with this, Els, beyond what I can do for you. I think you should talk to Phyllis, or Dr. Clarkson, and get a referral to a therapist. This isn't abnormal, but it's got to be some kind of post-traumatic stress. You're a nurse, Elsie … You know that I'm right."

She felt her tears flow freely now, but she didn't really care. John had been a friend for a very long time, from the first month Elsie had arrived in Misty Cove and had met him and Fiona at church. He'd been standing to the back of the fellowship hall during coffee hour and had been one of the only people to say hello to her. Elsie had returned the greeting and had said something about him being the quiet stranger in the crowd, and they'd liked one another instantly, joking about how they were the Irishman and the Scot in a crowd of 'down-easters'.* Since that day at the church they'd remained good friends, albeit ones who hadn't seen each other often (until, Elsie remembered, Anna had come into the picture). Elsie had also come to know Fiona well, and was grateful for both of those friendships as they'd helped her ease her way into the community of Misty Cove. But John and Elsie had both been through their own difficult pasts - he with his ex-wife and she with her father and Joe - and it was this shared experience that had solidified their relationship. She'd not shared as many details with John as she had with Charles, but she'd shared enough over the years that he knew she'd been through a lot. He'd never suggested before that she needed some type of therapy, and so she took his words to heart now.

"I do know that you're right, I just thought I could do it myself."

"And what would Phyllis Baxter say about that?" he gently teased.

Elsie sniffed and wiped her face as a dry chuckle broke through her sobs. "She'd tell me I'm being daft, and that I know better."

"Precisely."

Just then, Charles's Volvo appeared in the driveway, and John squeezed Elsie's hand one last time.

"Go inside and wash up, and I'll detain them out here," John said. "But you must talk to him," he added, tossing a nod in Charles's direction. "It's not fair otherwise."

"I know," she admitted. "And I will."

Charles could tell as they were eating supper that night that something was on Elsie's mind. She'd been distracted by several things lately, but he'd just assumed it had to do with everything that had happened with the fire, followed by Tommy moving in, followed almost immediately by planning Daisy's party. He'd wanted to surprise her with the honeymoon and she'd readily agreed, which had seemed lovely to him at first but then seemed odd the more he thought about it; it wasn't like Elsie to willingly relinquish control over anything. Still, she'd said nothing, and he hadn't wanted to press her about it.

He was, however, growing more suspicious that something was wrong, something they'd not already discussed. She'd been somewhat moody when dealing with anything related to the farm, and while she'd been wonderful with both him and the children, he sensed that all was not quite rosy in Elsie's world.

He smiled at her and stretched his arm out as she climbed into bed, noting that her own smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She did tuck herself in close to him, though, and as he turned on his side and placed a kiss to her temple, she tucked her head under his and nuzzled his chest.

"Elsie?" he asked quietly. "Won't you tell me what's wrong?"

He felt rather than saw her smile. "You know me too well already, I see."

"Enough to know something beyond the usual stuff is wrong. Can I help?"

"No," she said sadly. "But I think I need help." She bit down on her lip, and felt a sob well up in her chest.

Charles just wrapped his arms around her and let her cry. She'd been doing quite a lot of that lately and he had a feeling it was rather unusual for her, but - then again - he perhaps wasn't the best judge of that, reminding himself that they had only known each other about nine months total.

It feels like a lifetime, though …

"I can't do it," she finally whispered.

He moved back a bit and wiped her face with his fingertips. "I don't believe that," he said.

"Charlie, you don't even know what I'm referring to," she said with half a laugh.

He raised his eyebrows and looked her in the eyes. "I don't have to," he said insistently. "Because I don't think there's much in this world that you can't accomplish, Elsie. Tell me what has you so upset, and we'll see what we can do about it, alright?"

She nodded and gulped, controlling the tears after a few moments and taking several deep, cleansing breaths.

"I can't go into the paddock," she whispered. "Or near the horses. And it's stupid, but I'm so afraid. John's been helping me - well, trying to, anyhow - but I can't."

"John?"

"Yes. I asked him to one day, when you were off doing some errand or other and Anna wasn't here. I knew he would be firm with me, but supportive. He's a good friend, but he's not one to let his emotions show on his sleeve. Even if he were disappointed or bothered, he'd not let it show - not to me, anyhow." She looked up at him. "Please don't be upset that I didn't ask you, I just …"

"No, I understand," he assured her, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "I think we've established that I can't hide my feelings from you - whatever they may be. I'd likely have made it worse."

He said it without a trace of self-pity, and she smiled.

"We've established that you're a horrible liar," she agreed, "and Anna couldn't fib if her life depended on it. But it doesn't matter, because nothing John and I have done has helped."

She took a deep breath. "He suggested that I see someone, that it's likely post-traumatic stress. Which I knew, of course, but chose to ignore."

He smirked, burying his face in her hair as he cuddled her closer. "The nurse doesn't always know how to best care for herself - something else we've established these past few months. Did you call anyone?"

"I will tomorrow. Wanted to tell you first," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't do so before."

"Don't be. Tomorrow, then."

He pulled her closer and just held her for several minutes, eventually moving to gently press his lips to hers; he broke away before he was tempted to deepen the kiss.

"Let's get some sleep, love," he whispered, and she hummed her agreement.

Elsie had expected the next morning to bring a fresh perspective, perhaps more comfort with the entire idea of going to see a therapist, but she woke feeling uneasy and rather ill at the prospect. She knew Charles noticed, but he thankfully said nothing in front of the children. He kissed her and took the kids to school, then returned promptly to find her just getting off the phone.

"That was Phyllis," she explained, holding up a piece of paper. "She's given me a few people to call."

"Good. Would you like some privacy in which to do that?"

"I wasn't going to do it now, Charles," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Why not? You may as well; then we'll have the rest of the morning free and it won't be weighing on your mind," he reasoned.

"Or yours," she grumbled, and he surprised her.

"Precisely. Look, Els, I don't want you to think I'm going to hover over you and nag about this, but it's important to me."

He approached her and took her hands in his, kissing her knuckles before clasping their hands on his chest.

"I am marrying you in just over two months. This … thing that you're going through isn't something I can help you with. I don't want it living in the back of your mind, dormant, for the next two months, only to rear its ugly head when you least expect it. I love you, and you know I'll support you in whatever you do."

"Will you?" she challenged.

"I will," he insisted calmly. "But when I whisk you away for a honeymoon filled with unbridled passion amidst gorgeous sunrises and sunsets, I'd like to know that your entire self will be at ease."

She pulled a hand free and ran her fingertips over his cheek, brushing his lips and giggling when he kissed the pads of her fingers.

"You're not planning to coax me into riding a horse, are you?"

He knew she was teasing, but he was still wary of the flicker of fear behind the joviality in her eyes.

"No, that's not in the plans, I can assure you," he said.

"And what is in the plans?"

"Ha! Nice try. I'm not giving you any more hints than you've already gotten: warmth, glorious sunrises and sunsets, privacy, and me."

"Well," she murmured, stretching up on her tiptoes to nuzzle his neck, "I suppose that's all I'll really need."

He allowed the attentions for a moment, then gently pushed her away, tilting his head to indicate the paper on which she'd written the numbers.

"Alright, alright," she sighed, hands up in defeat. "I know when I'm beaten. I'll call now, set something up as soon as possible, okay?"

"Thank you," he said. "I'll leave you to it."

She shook her head once again and picked up the phone, tapping in the third number Phyllis had given her; it was the closest to home, and it was the doctor that Phyllis seemed to think would have the earliest opening.

As Charles was swapping his shoes for barn boots, he overheard the beginning of her call.

"Good morning. My name is Elsie Hughes. I'd like to set up an appointment …"

He could have wept with relief.

Friday, May 29, 2015

The school bell rang and the kids started pouring into the halls, noisy as ever because it was a Friday. Daisy was taking her time packing her things, and Tommy eventually found her outside of Miss Stephanie's room, zipping up her backpack.

"Your father texted - we've got to delay leaving for about half an hour, he said."

Daisy looked up at him. "How? It's a Friday!"

Tommy peeked into the classroom and saw Miss Stephanie and Mr. Molesley chatting by her desk. "I have an idea. Come on."

He led Daisy into the classroom, and they poked around at the bookshelf by the door until Miss Stephanie came over.

"Give me one good reason why you two didn't just fly out of here at the bell? It's a Friday, for goodness sake!"

"We need your help," Tommy said bluntly. "Daisy's father is going to be late to pick us all up, and Elsie's going to be wondering why we're not down in her office yet. The thing is, she can't know why he's running late, so we need her to think that maybe Daisy's staying for some extra help or something? Would you be able to … well, lie for us? It's for a good cause."

"Well, then. May I know why?"

"He's picking up her new truck," Daisy said gleefully. "Her old one is awful," she added in a whisper, "and the new one is red."

"I see!" Stephanie laughed. "Those aren't exactly opposites, but I know what you mean. And so it's to be a surprise when you all get home?"

"Yeah. But he won't be here for another half hour," Tommy clarified.

"Well, then," Stephanie said, picking up the phone by the door, "let's just call the nurse's office, shall we?"

She winked at Daisy, who giggled.

Charles whipped his phone out when it buzzed in his pocket.

Can you wait a bit before heading over? Daisy getting help w/something. X

He quickly typed a reply:

Sure thing. How long?

Elsie looked at her phone and sent back her answer:

Half hour? See you then - love you.

"All set, then?" Andy asked, and Charles nodded as he sent one more text:

Will do. Love you, too.

"All set," Charles said, pocketing the phone again and turning back to Andy.

Andy took the keys to Elsie's old truck and grabbed two sets of keys to the new one off the board by his desk.

"Great! Let's go, then! We should just have time to bring this to your house and then you can drop me off on your way to the school. She's got no idea, does she?"

"None at all," Charles said, shaking his head. "And with any luck, she'll be happier than she is irritated that I disposed of her old one without her consent."

"What. Is. That?" Elsie stammered. She saw the fire-engine red truck parked in front of the barn, a huge blue bow sitting on top of it, and couldn't help how the loudness in her voice climbed with every word. "Charles? Where is my truck?"

"It's at Branson's," he replied, suddenly very afraid that he'd made some horrid mistake. "Um … Happy Birthday?"

"Isn't it beautiful?" Daisy chimed in, sensing that her Papa needed a bit of help. She reached out and touched the gleaming hood, and Elsie nodded once.

"That it is," she allowed, biting down on her thumbnail as she stared at it.

Tommy could see a storm brewing from a mile off, and he knew that he and Daisy were about to get caught in a huge one if they didn't find somewhere else to be … and fast.

"C'mon, Daisy," he said, taking her by the elbow and practically pulling her toward the house. "Let's get rid of our bags and grab a snack."

"Okay," Daisy agreed, and they ran up the path and into the door, which Tommy shut firmly behind them.

Elsie stood fuming, and she wasn't even sure why. The truck parked before her was gorgeous! It was shiny and new, she was fairly certain it wasn't falling apart underneath, and it was the perfect size. It had running boards, which would enable her to climb in easily, and an extended cab with a full back seat so that the four of them would all fit comfortably.

And it was, apparently, hers.

"I'm sorry if this was a bad decision," Charles attempted, running his hand through his hair and trying to fix whatever had gone wrong. "I just … well, you've needed a new one for longer than I've known you, and -"

"I would have been capable of purchasing one myself, you know," she said in a low voice. "I didn't need you to do it for me. I can support myself, believe it or not."

His eyes flew wide open. "Wait … what? I know you can! Of course I know that! I just wanted to get it for you; I thought it'd be a nice surprise. Bad plan, evidently."

He turned and walked back to his own car, pulling the paperwork for the new truck from it and closing his door again. He went back to Elsie's side and handed her the folder.

"Here," he said, shoving it into her hands. "It's all the information. Look it over and decide." He took a breath to add something else, but held it back.

"What? What were you going to say?" Elsie asked.

He shook his head in defeat. "Only that I never meant to upset you, but I also don't think it's even fair that you are upset. It's a gift, Elsie, and one you needed. Can't you just enjoy it?"

And, with that, he turned and walked toward and into the house, leaving her holding the folder in one hand and the keys to her shiny new vehicle in the other.

"Nice going, Elsie," she whispered to herself. "You've made quite a mess of this, haven't you?"

She went over to the truck and pressed the button to unlock it. As she pulled open the door, the first thing she noticed was the amazing smell.

The seats are LEATHER?

She reached her hand out and brushed her fingers over the driver's seat, astonished at how soft and shiny it was. She gave in to her curiosity and climbed inside, sitting behind the wheel and moving the seat forward a bit.

It's insanely comfortable, she admitted to herself. Just then, her eyes spied an envelope that was tucked into the center console, sticking up from where her coffee cup would go. She put the folder down on the seat beside her and picked up the envelope, seeing her name scrawled across the front in Charles's clean handwriting and some flowers decorating the edge that she was positive had been drawn on by Daisy.

Biting her lip, Elsie tore open the envelope and extracted the card. It had a beautiful picture of a cake on the front, and when she opened it she saw that the inside simply read Happy Birthday! But her family had written personal messages inside as well, and she started with Tommy's:

Hope you like it! Pretty hard keeping a secret from you. Happy early Birthday! Tommy

She smiled and shook her head. Tommy was still finding his way in their little family, and the fact that he'd been fully in on this surprise made her extremely happy. She glanced below his message to find Daisy's:

Hi Elsie! I really hope you like the new truck. The old one was pretty bad! Love, xoxox, Daisy

That made Elsie laugh aloud - the old truck was pretty bad, she knew. And she really had planned to replace it, but with the accident and her inability to drive it just never seemed like a good time. Charles had been able to fit everything they needed to transport in his own vehicle, but Elsie knew when it came time to fetch bales of hay (which John had graciously been doing for the time being), she'd need a working truck again.

She glanced over to the other side of the card, where Charles had written a bit more than the kids. She got choked up at his words and shook her head at how supremely foolish she'd been to be upset about his amazingly thoughtful gift.

For my dearest Elsie: a gift not as lovely as you, but lovely nonetheless. Violet always says the perfect gift should be one of three things: beautiful, useful, or personal. I'd say this might be all three: beautiful without a doubt, certainly useful for both farm chores and perhaps even a bit of travel, and personal - to me, at least. I credit the old truck for forcing us together on a rainy day last year, and I hope this new one is the first of many new things we'll be celebrating in the months and years ahead.

All my love,

Your Charlie x

"Daft man," she whispered, wiping at her eyes. She placed the card atop the file and put the key in the ignition, turning it and marveling at the quiet purr of the engine - and at the ease with which the truck had started. She gripped the wheel and adjusted the mirrors, having already accepted the fact that the truck was, indeed, going to remain hers for the keeping.

"Well, now. You need a name, don't you? How about ... Red?" She laughed, knowing Charles would roll his eyes at the simplicity of the name. But, really … the truck was so red that she just couldn't not call it that.

Besides, she thought fondly as she looked across at the barn, we already have a 'Scarlett.'

She turned the engine off again and climbed out of the truck, taking the folder and card with her. She locked the doors and headed toward the house, turning back around halfway there and taking her phone out to snap a picture of the truck sitting in front of the barn, the huge bow still sitting atop the roof.

Making her way into the house, Elsie found the main living area to be empty. One peek into their rooms told her that Tommy and Daisy were working on homework. She headed down to the bedroom, where she found Charles sitting on the bed and staring at something he held in his hands.

"What's that?" Elsie asked quietly, and he turned and held it out to her. It was a photograph of her old truck.

"I took it yesterday," he said quietly. "Was going to tuck it in the card, but I forgot."

She took it from him, brushing her fingers on his thumb as she did so. "Thank you. I'll miss it, but I really do love Red."

"Red? You're not serious," he chuckled.

"I am," she insisted. "Really, what else would you name that truck?" She bit her lip and sat beside him, reaching over to take his hand.

He laughed and leaned over sideways, resting his head on hers.

"I'm sorry, you know," he said. "Not for buying it, but for making you feel like I was taking over around here."

"I don't feel like that, Charlie. I just … well, I suppose I'm not used to this sort of thing. You're such a kind and generous man. You see a need and you want to take care of it. I think you're so used to taking care of things in your life that, sometimes, you forget that I'm the same way."

"I do forget," he said. "And I want to take care of you, and the children. But I promise you this: No more major life decisions on my own, okay?"

He moved a bit and leaned over, kissing her softly on the mouth. She parted her lips after a moment and grazed her tongue over the tip of his. Charles placed his hands on the sides of her head, leaning her back and deepening the kiss even further before remembering the door to the bedroom was open and the children were, in fact, home and awake.

As he broke away from her, he was pleased to notice that there was a distinct flush on her face and neck, along with her slight shortness of breath.

"Okay," she answered. "And, Charlie?"

"Mm?"

She got up and held her hand out to him, which he took as he stood before her.

"Maybe tonight, I can take care of you." She quirked an eyebrow at him and turned swiftly, heading into the kitchen before he could formulate a reply.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Elsie pulled into the driveway, parking her truck by the barn since they'd be taking Charlie's car to dinner this evening. She and the kids got out and headed toward the house, where Charles met them on the front steps.

"There's the birthday girl," he said lovingly, taking a bouquet of roses from behind his back.

"Oh, Charlie! They're lovely!" she exclaimed, kissing him hard and then laughing at the groans she heard from the children.

"Come on, it's my birthday," she teased them. "And he deserves a thank you kiss, don't you think?"

"Not while we're here," Tommy quipped, and Daisy snorted a laugh.

"Really," she added, her nose wrinkled up, "anyone could drive up and see!"

"Well, we can't have that," Charles said to her as he wrapped his arm around Elsie's waist and led them into the house.

"How was the drive?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, it was lovely. No pain, and I took it slowly. It's a blessing living so close to school, I can say that."

"Good. I'm glad you waited, too. Somehow, it was fitting that your first time back behind the wheel would be on your actual birthday, in your birthday gift."

"I agree. And I do love it so much," she gushed. "I still feel like a fool for giving you such a hard time about it."

"That's alright," he said as he fetched a vase from the upper-most cabinet. "You made it up to me."

"Ha! That I did," she replied, taking the vase from his hands and filling it with water.

As neither of the children had homework, Elsie sent them to the barn to tend to the animals before dinner.

"I'm going to take a shower and change," she said to Charles. "Dressy tonight, or …? I have no idea where we're going."

"Nothing too fancy," he said. "We aren't going far, but I'd say … no jeans?"

"Fair enough," she replied, heading down the hall.

Elsie changed her mind about the shower and took a long bath instead. She lit the candles around the tub and added a generous helping of her favorite bath soap. She sank into the hot, sudsy water, allowing long sigh of relief to escape her lips.

Charles checked on her ten minutes later. "Need any help?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," she replied, surprising him. "Do my hair?"

He sat behind the tub and took the faucet sprayer in hand, wetting her hair and then lathering shampoo into it, massaging her scalp and neck before rinsing it clean. As he worked, they chatted a bit about the day - her stressful lunchtime with several kids stricken, once again, with a stomach bug; his less stressful (but still busy) morning and afternoon, which involved laundry and then cleaning out the barn with Anna. Charles moved on to the conditioner, stealing kisses now and then between sentences. When he'd finished, he dried off his hands and arms and wrapped her hair in a towel; she gave him one last kiss in thanks before he left.

An hour later, everyone piled into the Volvo. Elsie was surprised when they pulled up to the Misty Cove Seaside.

"We're having dinner here? Well, I'd not have guessed that! I should have known, though, when you said it was close by."

"Award-winning restaurant, which we loved the last time we tried it," Charles said, extending his hand to help her out of the car. Elsie laced her fingers through his and they headed toward the door, followed by the children.

"There might be one more surprise," Charles said sheepishly. "I'm afraid you'll have to close your eyes when we're brought to the table."

Elsie stopped suddenly, and turned to look at him in horror. "Charles Carson," she whispered. "There had better not be a room full of people in there all waiting to surprise me."

"There's not," Tommy said.

"Oh, I see," Elsie nodded, feigning exasperation. She turned to Daisy. "I suppose you know what awaits us in there, too?"

Daisy nodded quickly, a huge, toothy smile on her face.

"Is it Auntie Becky?" Elsie whispered, but Daisy shook her head.

"No, it's really not," she said sadly. "I wish she could have come, though."

"I did ask," Charles added, "but she had some group thing tonight she couldn't miss."

"Oh, right - it's Tuesday," Elsie nodded. "Alright then - let's go! Do you trust me, or should I rip that tie off of your neck so you can tie it around my eyes?"

Charles cleared his throat. "I trust you," he managed, trying to erase the images that just appeared in his mind. "Close them, then, and I'll lead you in."

She did as asked, and Charles squeezed her hand.

"Carson party," he told the host at the front desk.

"I figured," the young man chuckled. "Right this way - your table is in the corner."

As they crossed the parquet floor, where Elsie remembered dancing with Charles at Edith's wedding, the sound of chairs scraping the floor made its way to Elsie's ears.

"Charles?" she enquired softly, and she felt a warm hand reach out and take her free one, squeezing it gently.

"Not exactly," Isobel murmured, and Elsie's eyes flew open.

"Isobel! But when … How? … Oh, my goodness!" She wrapped her friend in a tight hug. "When did you get here?"

"Last night," Isobel said, kissing Elsie's cheek. "Happy Birthday, by the way. I was hoping to surprise you."

"You did! And it's a wonderful surprise." She looked to where Richard stood by Isobel's side, and leaned in for a hug from him as well. "You must have known about this when I saw you last!"

"I did," he confirmed with a smile. "But there was no way I was going to spoil it for you."

Charles led Elsie and the children to the table as the adults caught up on travel plans: Richard confirmed that he'd signed the papers just that morning finalizing the sale of his business, and Isobel would be staying two weeks in order to help him pack up his flat and get it ready to be rented.

"I decided not to sell the flat itself," Richard explained. "It made more sense to have somewhere to come back to when we want to visit."

"So you'll be moving in two weeks?" Elsie asked incredulously, and Richard nodded.

"But keeping the flat means we can visit more often than originally planned, perhaps," Isobel said, smiling at Charles. "Now, fill us in on what's new with you."

Tommy and Daisy spoke a bit about school - particularly the upcoming play - and the plans they had for how to spend the summer. Isobel made sure she got Elsie's update on how she was feeling, and she talked to both Elsie and Charles about how wedding plans were coming along while Richard kept the children entertained with a few stories about some of the more interesting patients he'd had over the years. He was sure not to divulge anyone's identity, but Daisy and Tommy were both reduced to fits of quiet laughter several times as Richard regaled them with his tales.

When it was time for dessert, the waitress brought out a small chocolate cake, on which sat two candles: a '4' and a '5.'

"Great - let them all know," she teased, and Charles leaned in and kissed her temple.

They divided the cake equally amongst themselves, and then Daisy reached under the table and pulled out a small box that Elsie hadn't even noticed before.

"Presents," Daisy said quietly.

"I gathered that," Elsie said, "but you've all already given me yours."

"Nah, that was from Charles," Tommy said, handing over his package. Elsie unwrapped it and gasped.

"Doctor Sleep," she said, nodding. "Thank you, Tommy! I presume you'd like to read this when I've finished with it?"

He nodded quickly, and Isobel made a face.

"I cannot stand those types of things," she said, "but you two enjoy."

"Oh, we will," Elsie assured her. "The Shining is my favorite of King's novels, and this is the sequel."

She opened a pair of earrings that Daisy had picked out, and then a gift certificate from Isobel and Richard for a restaurant up in Bangor.

"It's a lovely drive," Richard said, "and that's my favorite restaurant of all. Make a day of it; we'll watch the kids, if you do it in the next two weeks."

"Deal!" Elsie laughed.

She looked around the table, smiling fondly at her fiancé, the children - more hers every day, she thought - and their dear friends. "This has, without a doubt, been the most surprise-filled birthday I've had in ages."

"That was the plan," Isobel said, patting Elsie's arm.

"I love you all, you know," Elsie said softly. "Thank you for this."

Charles put his arm around her and pulled her close, placing a kiss to her forehead.

"We love you, too, Els," he said, and the kids jumped up from their chairs and joined him, wrapping Elsie in a huge - if slightly awkward - group hug.

"Nice family you've got there," Richard drawled, and Elsie laughed.

"It is," she said, winking at the kids. "And you know what? I think I'll keep them."

*down-easter: a term that refers to people living on coastal New England or, more specifically, coastal Maine.

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