Chapter 39 – March 1917 - Something I will carry with me forever

Abigail returned to a strangely quiet house.

"Cody?" she called up the stairs. No response. She double-checked the clock on the mantel, but she had spent enough time meandering in her reflections that school had already been out for over an hour. Though she admittedly had needed a lot of space over the past two days (and six months), an unexpectedly silent house had not been a comfort for many years.

Frowning, she moved on to look around the kitchen, on the chance no one had heard her calling from seven feet away. But it too was empty and no evidence of little Jack's afternoon snack littered the table. She paused, tilting her head up to catch the sound of footsteps or choo-choo trains seeping through from the upper floor, but again there was nothing. Perhaps Bill had asked them to help at the café while she took the afternoon? She'd already asked Greta to come by after school, but maybe it had been too much for Bill two days in a row.

"Elizabeth?" she tried one more time, a chill prickling up her back.

The sound of Elizabeth's laughter from the backyard made her hand fly to her heart. She flung the back door open, ready to scold them for giving her a scare in the wake of an explosion, but at the bottom of the rickety stairs was just about the last person she expected to see – and by far the most welcome. Without a moment's hesitation, she barreled down the stairs and threw herself around the woman in the wheelchair.

"Oh, Cat!" she cried.

A lovely warm hand rubbed over her hair.

"Hello, my friend," Cat smiled into her.

Abigail squeezed Cat's fragile body as tightly as she dared, her own breaths coming easier just from being buried against the other woman's skin. She was moved to give her up only when she feared she might fall asleep in the refuge of her shoulder.

"Is everything alright?" she asked Elizabeth when she pulled away. "Where are the boys?"

"They're fine," Elizabeth reassured her. "Jack is with Laura, and Lucas agreed to take Cody and some of the other boys to go see the charred oil fields," Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes.

Abigail nodded in relief and fell back on her knees. Finally taking in the whole of the scene, she found that Florence, Molly, Marta, and Clara were all gathered around the yard as well. It seemed the Hope Valley Widows Club had come to order at last.

Elizabeth stepped forward and guided Abigail to another chair that faced Cat. "Florence and I were talking and, between the explosion yesterday and all the other past being dug up, we thought it was about time we all got together."

"What she means is, it was time to get the real brains of this town in a room to figure things out the way we always used to," Cat smirked.

Through the quick moment of laughter Abigail felt moisture well in her eyes again, undoing the already-terrible job she had done of sorting herself on the way back from the cemetery.

"I'm so sorry I haven't seen you since I got back."

"As though you haven't had plenty else to worry about besides a sick old woman," Cat waved her off. "Now what is all of this I am hearing about you and Henry Gowen?"

"Oh, now there's a terrible reason to be dragged from your bed!" Abigail scoffed. But Cat huffed right back her.

"Do you think there is anywhere in this world I wouldn't come from if you needed help? Now go on, out with it."

Abigail sighed. She imagined she didn't need to rehash the bits about her letter, given the conferring that seemed to have been happening about the dramas of her life. So she started with the words that had made an absolute wreck of her for the last twenty-four hours.

"Henry told me he loved me."

"Well, obviously!" Marta called from her chair. A round of soft chuckles greeted the statement while Cat gently shushed the ensemble.

"No, you don't understand. He told me that he loved me even back then. I can't tell you how long I've waited to hear it – even on the days I was terrified I might hear it. But somehow, knowing that this is something we both hid just makes it all the more complicated."

"Why is that?" Elizabeth asked at her side.

She struggled with her words, as lost to explain the complexities of her heart and conscience as she had been at Noah's grave. "Henry and I and whatever we were to each other still played a part in the most devastating day of so many of our lives, and we've never known how to reckon with that."

"Let's stop right there," Cat cut in firmly. "That accident is no more your fault than Joe's gambling debt is mine for needing food on our family's table. You're a smart enough woman to know that, and damn that company for making you think for even a minute that it is. Damn them for making a sixteen-year-old girl think it's her responsibility to prevent their disaster," she motioned to Clara, still trembling behind her, "and damn them for forcing your husband and Gowen both to keep silent until forty-seven men were crushed under the weight of their negligence. Those deaths belong to the company and no one else."

Cat strained with the force of the words, her steely eyes holding Abigail's even as coughs racked her body. Several of the woman, including Abigail, reached out to steady her shoulders and arms. Abigail smiled.

"I know."

Abigail exhaled deeply, overcome that she could finally appreciate the sentiment as anything other than empty platitudes.

"If I've learned anything these past weeks, Cat, it's that all of us are living with such deep wells of guilt and regret, so outsized in their influence on us. It took months of being submerged inside the worst of my thoughts to allow myself to see my actions as only one brushstroke in the tragic picture of that day."

"But?" Cat sensed her hesitation.

"But there is a reason that Henry and I have tiptoed around each other for years and yet have always held ourselves back. The last thing I want to do is betray my family again, or anyone else."

"Abigail, the only thing holding you back is that neither of you believe you deserve what's on the other side. You have spent years trying to convince Henry that he is worthy of love and forgiveness despite his mistakes. Don't you think you should offer yourself that same kindness?" Cat urged.

"You are so much more than one terrible day, Abigail," Florence added, standing up. "And you are not betraying any of us by moving on. If anything, your strength and determination to move forward has been an inspiration and example for us all."

"Florence…"

But Molly stepped forward, clutching Florence's arm. "After the accident," she said, "we were all forced to reckon with who we were, and what our futures would be. When that smoke cleared, we were all that was left. It was the most terrifying moment of my life – of all of our lives," she said, nodding around the group. "But scared and grieving, we stuck together. We lifted each other up."

Cat smiled up at Molly. "It was you who pushed me to find my voice behind the pulpit. And the rest of you who came every Sunday. And it was Florence who told us that if we could raise children on our own, then we could demand a good education for them too, making damn sure the company didn't control them the way they controlled us. And Elizabeth, thank you for supporting our children and fighting to make our risk a success. And Clara? Thank you for finding the courage to walk into that courtroom, because you saved us all that day," she said, squeezing Clara's hand while the girl's tears fell with abandon.

Around the tableau, the women reached out to each other with sad smiles and warm hands.

"But you, Abigail," Cat turned back again, sincerity radiating over her. "You have never stopped encouraging us. You showed us we could be miners, and business owners. That we could take down a powerful company and make them pay. And even after that, you kept fighting. The railroad. The bank. Anyone who threatened our community. If anyone came in here trying to take a piece of Hope Valley, they best be ready, because Abigail Stanton does not back down. And I love that about her," she finished in a harsh whisper.

"If there was anything Peter was sure of, even more than he was sure of me, it was you."

At the mention of her son's name, Abigail looked up. Clara was toying with her hands, talking softly but earnestly, beseeching Abigail to hear her.

"The way he talked about you… he loved you so much, it was intimidating. In a good way," Clara smiled. "I couldn't wait to meet the woman he spoke about with such admiration. And when I think that this was before you became Mayor Stanton or opened the café? Oh my goodness, Abigail, if he could see you today...," her eyes widened, "I know he would be so proud."

"Oh, Clara," she jumped up to hug her daughter tight. "You'll never know how much I needed to hear that."

"Abigail, you couldn't hold so much fear of betraying them if you didn't love in equal measure," Florence said as she turned away. "When they were here, you loved them so much that you promised to forsake all others, and you did for that time. But while it's not how any of us would have wished it, those vows have come to an end. Our lives continue. The decision we make is whether it continues in their shadows. Do we betray a memory, cherished as it is, or do we betray our own hearts, and continue to forsake ourselves?"

"You sound just like Henry," Abigail said, sobbing and laughing all at once. At this rate, it seemed impossible she would ever stop crying.

"Well!" Florence clutched her chest. "Now that is a phrase I certainly never thought I would hear." She softened. "But perhaps no longer one that is unwelcome."

"Which brings us to one of the bravest things you've done, Abigail," Cat spoke up. "For years, you have stood in front of a man you love and you have shown him over and over that you refuse to be one inch less than who you are. No matter what he or anyone thinks of it."

"Oh, I don't –"

"Don't argue. That's what you did. And what did Henry do?"

Her thoughts were spinning so fast, she was not quite sure how to respond. Molly jumped in, helping her.

"He invested in your café," she said.

"And rescued your daughter even though he was meant to be in jail," Elizabeth added.

"Tried to throw Frank Hogan out of town rather than let him near you," Marta pointed out with some amusement.

"And Nora," Abigail found her voice. "He sent for Nora, because he didn't want me to date a liar. In fact, the whole reason this started is because he didn't want me to be with a liar," the thought suddenly occurred to her.

"And what else?" Cat encouraged.

"And he bought me winter daisies. And ordered my ridiculous filet mignon. And every time I thought I'd bitten off more than I could chew being mayor, he would always tell me I was doing a good job. And yesterday…," she started to blush, "yesterday after I screamed at him and told him he had broken my heart, that infuriating man told me he was in love with me."

"Well, if that isn't the most romantic thing you've ever heard," Molly said, flashing a wide-eyed look at Florence. "Who knew – Henry Gowen!"

"Oh, I just don't know!" Abigail pressed anxious hands to her cheeks as it dawned on her she might actually be doing this. "Are you sure it's the right thing?" she asked Cat, while the other women groaned and swatted her playfully.

"You need to answer that for yourself, Abigail. It's what's in your heart that matters. Now, what do you want?"

"I want…"

Her heart pounded, flaring with the strength of their passion and grace. Feeling the solid earth beneath her, she reached out and touched the last barrier, the words that had rolled endlessly across her mind but that she had never been able to say out loud.

"I want to be with Henry," she whispered.

"Well, it's about time!" Elizabeth laughed.

"Well past, I'd say!" Molly rolled her eyes.

"Especially after yesterday! Now how did Fiona put it again?" Florence put a finger to her chin, smirking mischieviously. "Oh yes… that the rig wasn't the only thing on fire in that field!"

"Florence!" Abigail shrieked, unable to contain her laughter.

As the others squealed and shared Fiona's descriptions around the yard, Abigail pressed her forehead to Cat's.

"Thank you, my beautiful friend."

"Any time," Cat's sweet smile came back.

A great weight cleared, she pulled her head back and turned it into the sun, its light a deep orange as it made its descent into the mountains. It would be almost…

"Oh my goodness!" Digging frantically into her pocket, she checked her watch. "Oh my, I have to go!"

"What?" Elizabeth swiveled around. "Now?!"

"No, not yet, you look a fright!" Molly cried, already rushing forward. Abigail covered her blushing face again as the formidable group of women descended upon her.

ooo

Right on time, the door opened. Even as she wrung her hands together waiting for him to turn, she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh!" Henry started, clearly unprepared to find her outside his office. "Good evening, Abigail. What, uh…. what are you doing here?"

She had always loved that rough turn of his voice. The way he said her name could make her feel weak and strong all at once.

"Lunch at 11:30," she breathed. "Dinner at 6."

Confused, he said nothing, and her mouth crooked into a small grin.

"I always thought it was quite a long time in between."

He furrowed his brow deep over those intense eyes, staring at her as though she had absolutely lost her mind.

"I… have an apple at 3. Well, usually. Yesterday was different."

She nodded, her dimples starting to show. "Yesterday was different."

"Abigail – "

"Could I come inside?" she interrupted. Always the gentleman, she knew he wouldn't refuse. He removed his hat and placed it over his chest, waving her across the doorway.

Her examining gaze circled the office but Mike had gone for the day, no doubt still resting his injuries from the fire. As soon as Henry closed the door and faced her, she began to speak.

"I've never been as brave as you, Henry." She saw him start to protest and held up a gentle hand. "Despite everything we have done to each other, you always stood by me. You had money to go wherever you wanted, and nothing keeping you here, but you stayed. You stayed here and let everyone disrespect you, even when you could have changed it with one word. I'm sorry it took me so long to see it, and to thank you for it. Unfortunately my bravery took a lot longer to learn."

He looked down at the floor, deflecting the praise. "You've always been tough, Abigail. Gave me a run for my money more than once."

"If I did, it's because you were so ready to believe I could. You've always made me think I can do impossible things, Henry," she smiled again. "Except there seems to be one thing I still can't do."

Henry's face contorted, steeling for the expected disappointment.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Stop being in love with you," she said.

Any lingering doubt that had followed her into that office fell away at the soft inhale of his breath. His lips parted and his disbelieving eyes stared at her and there was no question in her mind that she wanted to hear that sound for the rest of her life.

"You were right," she said. "There's a lot I have to live with. Things I'm not sure I'll ever get past. But you're one of them, Henry. I spent years trying to shame myself into forgetting you and all I've got to show for it is being even more in love with you today than I was then."

She took a step closer while he watched her, still wary, still waiting.

"We both know that Noah and Peter will never leave my heart. But it's been nearly eight years and neither have you."

With another step she was there, taking his rough hand into hers.

"I love you, Henry. Completely and unforgivably."

It was the effortless pull of a second kiss and the restrained hunger of a first. The physical discovery of someone they already understood as intimately as their own souls. It was the beginning, and the middle, and the end.

"Are you sure?" he breathed, even as he pulled her tighter to him.

She took his face in her hands, letting her embrace speak its sincerity.

"I told you I'd come to you."

"You never gave up," he shook his head, voice choking with emotion. "You never gave up on trying to find me."

She ran her gaze across him, his cloudy eyes still struck with adoration and amazement, the soft lines of his face finally at peace.

"I think we'll always find each other, Henry," she whispered.

Her kiss seared the promise into his lips and he returned his own. There would be no more running, not unless it was together.

"So," she said when they finally broke apart, "dinner at the saloon?"

"Nah," he took her hand with a cocky grin. "I know a place."

"Do they have darts?"