For a moment, no one spoke. Then Elizabeth turned to Ned. "Can you please send a return wire?" Ned took a notebook and pencil out of the pocket of his apron and held them up.
"Will arrive by train soon as possible. Give Mother my love. Elizabeth."
Ned finished writing and looked up to be sure that was all. When Elizabeth nodded, he moved quickly out of the door and Rebecca closed it.
Elizabeth turned back to Nathan and sighed deeply.
He reached up and smoothed her curls from her face. "I understand. You go and do what you have to do. There will always be time."
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth started slowly to shake her head. "No." She looked over at Rosemary, who had blissfully slept through it all. "What there will always be are interruptions and distractions and reasons..." She looked back at Nathan and framed his face in her hands gently.
"Will you come with me? To Hamilton...?" Elizabeth started.
"Of course," Nathan said quickly. "Anything you need..."
"...as my husband?" Elizabeth continued.
Now Nathan's eyes went wide. "As your..." A smile started and he nodded, finally leaning down to kiss her. "Yes."
Elizabeth looked over at Rebecca and Charlotte, and then led Nathan over to the dining room table. The pies had cooled and Elizabeth began to pull down the dessert plates.
Rebecca frowned. "Elizabeth. Don't you have to..."
Elizabeth turned and faced Rebecca. She smiled and took the older woman's hands in her own. "For as long as I can remember, my mother has had what the doctors have called 'a weak heart.' When I was in school, if I was away from home for too long, Mother would suffer from anxiety, and that would make it worse." Elizabeth looked down at their joined hands. "Then I would rush home, expecting her to be upstairs in bed, and she would be sipping tea in a chair in the sitting room, dressed for a fine formal supper. Once I got there, within hours she was planning garden parties to show me off to her friends."
Elizabeth smiled. "I'm not being callous, and Mother doesn't mean to be dramatic. She just needs to see me, and then she'll be better. But this time, I'm doing what I need to do first." Looking up, Elizabeth could see that Rebecca's eyes were exactly the color of Nathan's as he stood behind her, listening.
"We will start our trip to Hamilton tomorrow morning. But in order to catch the cross-country train, we have to go to Benson Hills, right?" Elizabeth looked at Nathan and he nodded, his crooked smile beginning to grow.
Nathan walked around Rebecca and faced Elizabeth. "I'll get us a sleeping car?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Under the name of Constable and Mrs. Grant?"
Rebecca smiled and turned to her son. "Outrageously expensive, and worth every penny..." she said, looking as if she had memories to go with that statement.
Nathan couldn't stop looking at Elizabeth. His eyes went very soft and he said, "We met at a stagecoach, and I told you I loved you in a wagon... I suppose it's only fitting that our wedding night will be on a moving train."
Elizabeth couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up, and she threw her arms around Nathan. "Another story we can tell our grandchildren," she said, kissing him on the cheek.
At the sound of Elizabeth's laughter, Allie looked up from her dollhouse and ran across the room. Never one to be left out, she launched herself at their legs and giggled.
Charlotte moved the pies back to the table. "Cherry or apple?" she asked, raising a knife in the air. "I made the crust for the cherry." She looked at Rebecca and grinned. "Plenty of lard."
"Apple," Nathan and Elizabeth said in perfect unison.
And after all the talk and the commotion of the evening, it was laughter that finally caused Rosemary to open her eyes. Rubbing them, she sat up and squinted against the lamplight. Looking over at the bustle around the dining room table, she yawned hugely.
"What did I miss?"
The truth was, even the cherry pie was delicious. Charlotte was right about the lard; it made the crust decadently flaky and slightly crispy, and very rich.
Everyone filled Rosemary in on the events of the evening, and even she managed a smile at Nathan and Elizabeth's happiness.
At the dining room table, Rosemary took their hands in hers. "Don't let a moment pass you by..." Her eyes began to fill and she waved her hands in the air. "No, not tonight. I realize that I've been far too depressing a companion lately. There's too much to be grateful for." Her hands moved naturally down to her stomach and she smiled wistfully. "I've decided I need to move on from the role of tragic heroine and see if I can find my inner ingenue again!" She brushed a tear away as Charlotte reached a long arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
"It's a good plan..." Charlotte said, lifting Rosemary's chin to look into her eyes. "But take your time with it." Charlotte grinned at her and raised an eyebrow. "I can tell you that you're the least depressing widow I've ever known. I've known some doozies."
Rosemary put her arms around Charlotte. "What would I do without you?" she said, hugging her tightly.
Charlotte patted her back self-consciously, trying to take in the love she was feeling from Rosemary. Charlotte had been riding fences alone for a long time, and it had been a while since she'd had quite so many hugs. "Well, you won't have to anytime soon," she said, turning back to her pie. "Because I've decided that for the time being, I'd like to be here where you and my grandson are."
Rosemary tilted her head. "How do you know it's a boy?" she said.
Charlotte lifted her chin and looked at Rosemary. "I carried two of 'em, and then I raised 'em. You think I don't know boys?"
Rosemary narrowed her eyes and smiled. "I should show you and have a girl..." she said, raising an eyebrow.
Charlotte grinned and reached up to touch Rosemary's cheek. She could see the healing beginning. "There's that sass..." she said softly. But long talks about feelings weren't Charlotte's strong suit, so she took a deep breath and turned back toward her pie.
She looked directly at Elizabeth. "And Lizzie, I don't think you know what I did for about a hundred years before I took up ranching." She picked up a generous helping of the cherry pie and put it in her mouth.
Elizabeth looked at her blankly. "I'm sorry, no, I don't know..."
Charlotte took a moment to finish her bite of pie and said, "I was a teacher."
She put down her fork. "And instead of subjecting those poor children to Florence Blakeley and Molly Sullivan – I'm not casting aspersions, I'm sure they're fine and intelligent women, if a little... flighty... you really should consider having me take over your classroom while you honeymoon and help your mama." Charlotte picked up her fork again and speared another large piece of pie.
Elizabeth sat with her mouth slightly open for a moment and then said, "You'd be willing to do that?"
Charlotte frowned and looked at Rebecca. "Didn't I just offer? I think love has plugged these kids' ears." Rebecca laughed and so did Elizabeth.
"That would be wonderful," Elizabeth said, gazing gratefully at Charlotte. "I'm afraid they might fall behind with Molly and Florence, but I have a strong feeling that won't happen with you," she said, raising an eyebrow.
Charlotte nodded and took the last bite of pie. "Oh, I'll get 'em thinking," she said, grinning.
No one around the table had any doubt of that.
The moon was high in the sky when Nathan walked Elizabeth from the row houses down to Abigail's. Rosemary and Charlotte were staying a little longer, but Elizabeth needed to sort out what she was going to wear tomorrow and get packed for Hamilton.
"Your last night as Elizabeth Thatcher," Nathan said, gazing up at the full moon.
Elizabeth smiled. "Tomorrow is January 14, 1911. Forever our wedding day, our anniversary. For the rest of my life, I'll be Elizabeth Grant," she said, trying it on for size. "I like it. Shorter, and I won't have to be spelling it for people all the time," she said, peering sideways at Nathan.
Nathan frowned a little. "Why is it, I wonder, that women change their names and men don't?"
Elizabeth snorted softly, "I believe it's because I'm supposed to become your property tomorrow."
Nathan laughed out loud and stopped walking. "Not only do I have no desire to own you, I doubt that would even be possible. Your will is far too strong for you to be someone's property."
Elizabeth sighed and put her arms around his neck. "And that statement right there is one of the reasons I love you so much." She leaned up and kissed him, and then said against his cheek, "My heart belongs to you, though."
"And mine to you, my angel," Nathan said, moving his lips back to hers. They weren't exactly in the middle of the street, but in the light of the moon they were completely visible to those stragglers on their way home for a late dinner, or the men from the sawmill off to have a last beer at the saloon. As he kissed her, Nathan walked Elizabeth back into the shadows near the livery. He felt the wall behind him and leaned against it, tightening his hold on her.
Tomorrow night. As Nathan felt himself falling further into the warmth of Elizabeth's kiss, he knew he could never have imagined himself feeling this way. He didn't have the experience, the knowledge of what it was to be so entirely connected to another person. And knowing that they would be married by tomorrow night only increased his hunger for her, his desire to know everything...
Elizabeth sighed into the kiss with the sound that he loved, as if she had just tasted a ripe strawberry, or was watching a breathtakingly beautiful sunset. It was a sound of joy, of wonder, of abandon. Of trust.
Nathan found himself on the edge of control, and with every ounce of strength he had, he pulled his lips away from hers, breathing quickly. "I have to get you into Abigail's, or we're going to need to get married on this street. Now."
Elizabeth laughed against his chest, her own breath calming. She leaned back and looked at him. It was dark and she could just barely see his eyes in the moonlight. The darkness gave her courage.
"Are you nervous?" she asked timidly.
Nathan thought about using the time-honored question in answer to a question in order to buy time, but he stopped himself, realizing they were far past that.
He reached up and tenderly moved a curl from her forehead. "I worry I won't know how... to make you... happy," he said, measuring his words.
Elizabeth smiled, "Oh, my sweet Nathan... how can you imagine that's even possible?" She looked down, glad that he couldn't see the flush in her cheeks. "Neither one of us will know what we're doing, you know." She looked back up at him. "There's a comfort in that..."
Nathan was so overflowing with love for her that he felt his eyes begin to fill. Suddenly his fear was transformed into a sense of discovery, and he knew that they would find their way.
He bent his lips to hers again. "A great comfort..." One more kiss here in the darkness. Just one more before they pledged their lives to each other and moved into the unknown territory.
Together.
Clara Weller Stanton needed a new start.
She was tired of walking the streets of Cape Fullerton and seeing Peter everywhere she looked. At the small cafés where they would share quiet dinners, in line at the bakery where they would grab scones and coffee in the mornings as Peter scooped her up for a kiss, laughing, before he jumped up into his wagon and went back to Coal Valley.
They'd had so little time together.
Clara had first met Peter with his father, Noah Stanton, when they'd come to the Miner's Supply where she worked as a clerk in the back, generally helping mine foremen with large orders of headlamps, shovels, picks, wheelbarrows, heavy aprons and at times, explosives. Clara's sunny personality mixed well with the taciturn, filthy, and often gruff miners who looked forward to seeing her smile and her pretty face in a place mostly occupied by men.
She'd noticed Peter right away, with his easy grin and sandy-colored hair, and he'd winked at her, which would usually cause her to raise an eyebrow and tilt her head in warning. She was young, but she wasn't a silly girl whose head could be turned that easily. But with Peter it was different. It was just who he was.
One day he'd arrived alone and said his father was trusting him to make the run for supplies on his own. He'd stood taller that day, and she'd found herself being just as proud of him as he was of himself. Peter and Noah had always come in on Friday, then spent the night before leaving at sunrise on Saturday. They didn't want to be in the dark with a wagon full of supplies. Noah had said it was just asking for trouble.
So Peter got a room at the boarding house that first night alone, and never slept in it. He'd asked Clara to dinner and once the restaurant shut down, they'd moved to a bench overlooking a busy street and had talked until the early hours of the morning. Then they'd taken a walk to a spot overlooking the docks and watched as the sun rose over the city, and as the bright corona moving over the buildings of Cape Fullerton caught the gold in Peter's hair, Clara knew she was in love.
Every Friday, Peter would pull into town, and they never slept. Not once in seventeen Fridays. And on the eighteenth, they didn't sleep, but they were inside the boarding house, married, blissfully happy.
Then, so soon after, came that terrible Friday when Peter didn't arrive. She waited for hours for his wagon to pull around the corner, and spent the night outside the Miner's Supply, twisting her wet handkerchief and gazing hundreds of times at her wedding ring. All she knew was that he lived in a place called Coal Valley, that he was a miner, and that his parents were Abigail and Noah Stanton. When the sun finally rose and Clara went back into the Miner's Supply, she overheard some men talking about an explosion in the mine in Coal Valley and how forty-seven men were missing and presumed dead.
Frantically she searched the eyes of the men, and one who worked at the Silverton Mine confirmed that the mine foreman and his son were among the missing.
She'd been so close to getting on the stage and just going there. But they'd never told anyone because Peter had said his parents would tell them they were too young, and he was afraid he'd never be able to make the Cape Fullerton trip again. He wanted to wait a year, until he'd proven himself more to his father, shown that he could stand on his own two feet, and then he would send for Clara and they would live together in Coal Valley, have children, and grow old together.
How could she simply show up on Abigail Stanton's doorstep, with nothing but two photographs of their wedding and the marriage certificate she kept in her keepsake box? And if Peter was indeed lost in the blackness of that mine, what was there for her to go to anyway?
So she had grieved alone, crying herself to sleep every night, and every day asking for any information she could get. Until finally, when the last of the bodies were found and Peter and Noah's were among them.
Clara had grieved all over again, spending hours upon hours in the places they'd gone together. She felt angry, utterly alone, and cheated of the future they'd planned together. And as time had gone by, she'd held onto their secret as if it was a treasure. Shared with no one, her ring in the keepsake box, her memories still bright, but fading into what felt almost like a fantasy, a dream.
It was definitely time to move on. And when Clara made a decision, she did it in a big way. She'd found a job in Hamilton, all the way across the country, just about as far as she could get from Cape Fullerton. Her train ticket was in her hands, and on January 14th, 1911, her new life would start.
A new year, and a new life.