Chapter 24 – May 1910 – I guess this is goodbye

Abigail lay in bed next to her husband that night, her senses slowly having returned to her. It was incredible to her now how far she had let her temptations take her, how close she had been to destroying her family.

Noah had apologized as soon as she walked through the door, catching her as she fell into him and clutching her to his chest. She had sobbed her apologies against him, wrecked by the thought of having hurt him so much. How could she blame him for not effortlessly understanding her when she'd done everything she could to hide herself from him? When she had led herself so far astray? For the first time in too long she told him that she loved him. And she honestly did, despite anything that had overshadowed it.

When Peter walked in, he had been caught off guard to find them in an emotional embrace, Noah's hands holding Abigail's cheeks as he kissed her rain-soaked forehead. Before Peter could retreat, Abigail rushed to him too. He gave in to the wet and teary hug, though he could never have known what prompted it, or how much she had needed him in that moment.

Abigail and Noah had gone upstairs to talk, but instead Noah had told her to stay by the bed, bringing her some warm clothes and helping her to undress. They stopped every so often to offer a gentle caress or kiss, and when she was fully dry, she threw her arms around him again.

The whirlwind of what she had experienced in the last several hours kept her awake now. What an awful thing, an absolutely foolish thing she had almost done.

What had she been thinking, about to leave such a private confession at the place her husband and son worked, where anyone could have seen it? And even if Henry had found it, what reaction could he have had after reading the infatuated ramblings of a woman whom – no matter what agenda she may have wanted to believe lay behind his words – he had already thoroughly rejected? She couldn't even bring herself to think about what might have happened had she found him at the cabin. Had he taken her, whether from love or just base desire, both of their lives might have been completely destroyed. She would never have been able to face her family or the church again.

To have nearly risked the love of her son. The love of God. Her entire body curled with the shame of it. She pressed herself against her sleeping husband, soaking in the comfort of his warmth.

The next morning they made love again before the sun rose outside the windows. Noah had a hard time leaving her as the time to get ready for work came and went, but eventually she pushed him away with a playful shove. They dressed and Noah shaved, and soon they heard clanging and sizzling noises traveling up the stairs. Staring at each other with curious looks, they came down into the kitchen to find Peter cooking up some breakfast.

"Hi," he said, a nervous smile twitching on his lips.

"Good morning," Abigail said, raising her brows. "Special occasion?"

Peter shrugged, but the smile hadn't faded from his face. "I think I did it right. You might want to check. Or I can make the eggs different if you want."

Abigail came over and peered into the pan, but Peter had done a good job and she told him so. She didn't tell him that it was very difficult to mess up fried eggs. Noah had gone past her, and was leaning over Peter to lay slabs of bacon down into another heated pan. She stopped for a second to admire them both before pitching in to start the coffee. They made it through breakfast with just enough time to spare to get to the mine.

"Why don't you go out and read the paper like you wanted?" Noah suggested as they finished up.

The weather had broken apart into what looked to be a beautiful day. The sun would likely be hot enough to dry up the remnants of the night's storms within a few hours. Abigail hadn't taken off her bag last night until she had gone upstairs, laying it on the nightstand with the notebook inside. She didn't want to think about it just then, or what it still held inside it.

"No, that's alright. I'll take the walk out with you though."

Out in the daylight, they walked a bit slower than they ought, caught up in conversation and their renewed closeness. Abigail held to Peter's arm, trying not to act shocked that he was allowing this lingering display of affection. They had made it most of the way there when Noah slapped his forehead.

"Forgot that dang lunch pail again."

"Oh, I can bring it to you."

"No, no, I'll go back to get it," he waved her off. "It'll just take me a minute." Kissing her on the cheek, he hustled back to the house and out of their sight.

The short distance that was left passed quickly under their feet as she and her son affectionately mocked his father's forgetfulness. When they came to the crest of road that overlooked the mine, Abigail hung back. She'd pushed her luck far enough with the linked arms, and wasn't about to try walking her grown son into his workplace. Peter was preoccupied with his own thoughts though, and didn't seem to question it.

"Hey, Mom?" he started as they separated. "Can the three of us talk later, at dinner?"

"Of course. Something important?"

Peter shrugged shyly again, as he had over his breakfast pan. "I want to wait for Pa though. Is that okay?"

"More than okay." She gripped his shoulders, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I'm so proud of you," she said, for no reason, just because he should know.

"Love you, Mom."

"I love you too, baby," she said, and watched him go.

She went off her own, on the hidden path through the woods, the long way home. It was 7:12 when she got back to the house. 7:20 when she finished washing up the breakfast plates. It was 7:21 when the blast came. She didn't know what time it was when they told her her son was dead.