August 1916
As a man of few words, he did not say anything when he finally realized how long they had been standing there and he moved aside to let her into the house. Closing the door behind her, he watched as she headed toward the dining room.
"Oh! The food is in the living room." He told her just in time before she went in the wrong direction.
At first, Abigail wondered why the food would be in the living room, but once she walked through the threshold, she smiled. Henry had the coffee table in front of the fireplace set up with a lovely silver candelabra in the center and a pillow was laid on the floor on either side of the coffee table where two plates with silver covers were set up. "Oh, Henry." She smiled at the sight. "This is wonderful." She watched the flames in the fire crackle as they lit the room just enough for them to be able to see their food and each other.
"Have a seat." He told her, gesturing toward the table.
She gladly went around to the left side of the fireplace and sat down on the pillow that lay on the floor at the end of the coffee table. Henry sat across from her and they each pulled the cover off of their food before they began to eat.
They didn't talk much while they ate as they decided silently to just take in each other's presence before Abigail would leave tomorrow. They drank wine and smiled at each other before Abigail would look at the fireplace, studying the carved wood and the details in it.
Meanwhile, Henry would study her and the way she blinked or breathed. His eyes would fall to her chest and he would watch it rise and fall as if no one else breathed the way she did. He would move his gaze up to her lips, watching the way she would lick them after a sip of her wine and his heart would leap at the little things she did, just existing in front of him.
He began to realize that maybe this was what love was. He had seen other women breathe before. But why did Abigail make him feel like he could burst at any moment just by breathing? The V-neck cut of her dress finally caught his eye as he realized he hadn't seen her dress like this before. His body slightly shook as he realized…this was for him. She dressed up for him. The way the dress seemed to invite him to her made him remember what she had told him four months ago before she left for Fulton Hills. She was his. And he couldn't believe it.
"Do you like it?" She finally broke the silence.
"What?" He asked her, finally looking up into her eyes.
"The dress. Do you like it?" She asked him. "You keep staring." She told him, smirking a bit to herself.
"Do I?"
"Yes. You know you do." She softly chuckled. "Do you like it?"
He smiled shyly. "Yeah." He nodded. "It looks very good, Abigail."
"You don't have to be so shy, Henry. It's just us."
"I'm not shy." He tried to argue, though Abigail knew the truth. She smiled to herself and took another sip of her wine before looking down into her half-empty plate of food. "Are you finished packing?" He asked her, knowing that she had been a bit stressed out trying to help Cody finish his packing earlier that day.
"Yes, almost." She told him. "There's only a few more things that I need in my suitcase which I can handle taking care of tomorrow morning before the stagecoach arrives." She had another few bites of her food as she watched him look at the fire. "Are you going to come see us off tomorrow to say goodbye?"
"Of course I am." He looked back at her.
"Good." She told him. "How have you been feeling? Any dizzy spells lately?"
"Not while you've been here." He finished the last bite of his dinner and sipped on his wine.
"I am glad to hear that. But that doesn't mean that while I am gone, you can bury yourself in your work again, Henry. I meant what I said when I arrived. I want you to take care of yourself. It is important to me that you do."
"Well, alright. I'll try my best." He said with an amused smile, almost as if he were making a joke. He hadn't meant to say it like that, but any time she showed him how she felt, he would feel uncertain of what to do or say, so telling a joke was his first instinct.
"I am serious, Henry Gowen." She spoke gently. "I do not want to lose you."
"You won't, Abigail." He said more seriously.
"Good." She said to him before finishing the food on her plate as well. "Dinner was delicious."
"Yes, it was" Henry agreed. "I will give my compliments to the cook for you tomorrow."
Abigail smiled at him before looking around the living room more and she realized something. "I have been here so many times, yet I have never had a proper tour." She pointed out to him.
"Would you like one?" He asked her.
"Do fish bite more at night?" She replied with a wide grin.
He softly chuckled at her words and stood up from his seat on the floor. He walked over to stand beside Abigail and offered her his hand to help her up. She smiled at his hand before taking it and standing up from the pillow at the end of the coffee table.
Henry showed her around the mansion, explaining to her why he chose the type of architecture that he did. He showed her the guest rooms upstairs and the bathrooms. She admired the elegant carpets up and down the halls and the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The wooden trimming along the walls made her wonder how long it took for Henry to have the house built, but she didn't ask. She was too in awe of what she saw and was even reminded of Elizabeth's parents' house in Hamilton at times.
The last room that he showed her was, of course, his bedroom. His bed was to the left as they entered the room. It was a four-poster bed with a mahogany wood beam at each corner of it. Draped in dark plum purple curtains, the bed was covered in plum sheets and a thick comforter of the same shade. There were about six or seven pillows with satin pillow cases on them that matched the rest of the bed set and across from the bed was a fireplace made in the same wood as the bed. To Abigail's right, below the bedroom window, stood a dresser with a victrola record player on top of it. She smiled and walked over to it, placing the needle on the record as it spun. A nice, calming melody began to fill the room as Henry watched Abigail walk around, taking it all in.
"This is very nice, Henry." She told him, making her way to the opposite corner of the room, diagonal from the door to enter it. She stopped at the second dresser against the wall on that side of the room and looked at the three picture frames that sat on top of it. One photo was of a young boy, around twelve years of age, with an older couple, about in their thirties. The second photo was just of Henry and a few of his old coworkers from the mining company when he first moved to Hope Valley and the third photo was a picture, whom Abigail could guess, was Christopher as a toddler. She smiled to herself, looking back and forth between the photo of the toddler and the photo of the couple and the boy. "He looks like you."
"What's that?" He asked her from where he stood, near the doorway as if ready to leave the bedroom as soon as possible if something she would see in there would make her want to leave.
"Christopher. He looks a lot like you. Do you have a more recent photo of him?" She turned to look at Henry.
"No. I don't." He admitted. "You think he looks like me?"
"Oh, absolutely. Especially when you were younger. He has your eyes and your nose. The same face-shape." She smiled more. "I'd really like to meet him one day." She felt her stomach flutter just at the thought of meeting his son.
Henry just softly smiled at her, placing his hands in his pants pockets and watching her continue her rounds in his room, examining the most private parts of his life as his nerves went wild. He saw her stop at the waist-high book shelf against the far left wall of his room and crouch down to read every book title that Henry owned as if to learn more about him through them.
"I guess I never paid attention to how much of an avid book-reader you are, Henry." She admitted to him. "Though it makes sense considering how intelligent you are and how much you know about the world." She stayed crouched down as she pivoted her body around to look at him again before standing.
Making her way back over toward the right side of the room, she stopped at the foot of his bed. Reaching her right hand up, she rested her palm on the beam at the left foot side of it. She looked up at the mahogany wood, carved delicately with elegant patterns, the smoothness of each ridge feeling oddly satisfying in her hand.
"This bed is one of the biggest I have ever seen." She told him. "And the nicest."
"It is a king bed." He told her. "It is also very soft. You can sit and try it out if you'd like."
"May I?" She asked, her smile growing brighter with excitement.
"Yeah, go 'head." He gestured toward the bed.
She brought her hand down from the bedpost and sat down on the end of the bed. "Oh my!" She exclaimed softly as she smiled at him. "I have never felt a bed this soft since I stayed at Elizabeth's family's house in Hamilton. I think yours might be softer actually." She told him with a little chuckle.
"Lay down if you want." He said to her. "Give it a feel."
She softly hummed and happily did so, laying back and scooching herself up more so her head lay on the pile of pillows. "Oh, wow." She unintentionally whispered. "I think I would sleep so well on this bed, it would be as if I were an infant again."
Henry softly chuckled as she said that and leaned sideways against the wall by the door, his hands still in his pockets. "You look very comfortable."
"I feel very comfortable." She turned her head on the pillow to look at him, her smile never going away. "You know what would be more comfortable?"
"What's that?"
"If you came and laid with me." She patted the right side of the bed beside her.
Henry didn't move right away as he just watched her lay there. He asked himself how somebody could be so beautiful just simply lying on a bed, but there she was. He finally took his hands out of his pockets and walked over toward his bed, laying down on it beside Abigail Stanton.
She didn't even hesitate to take his hand as they both looked up at the ceiling above the bed. Lacing their fingers together, Abigail took in a deep breath, feeling the comfort in his presence and in his bed. "I am going to miss you." She told him, running her thumb over his hand, caressing it.
He looked at her beside him. "I'll miss you too." He admitted, lifting her hand to kiss the back of it.
She looked at him and smiled softly as she scooched closer to him, turning onto her side so her back was to him and she pulled his arm over her so he would spoon her. Her back rested against his chest behind her and she held his hand around her waist, lacing their fingers together again. Henry felt a pain in his heart as he thought about her leaving again and his fear of her never returning grew. He held her closer to him and took in the sweet scent of her hair.
"I think you are changing my life, Abigail." He quietly whispered, fiddling with her little fingers in his bigger ones.
"I hope that is a good thing." She softly chuckled. "Hmm…This feels so nice." They laid like that for a while, just listening to the calming music from the record player before Abigail broke the silence between them again. "I like the dark purple." She pointed out, mentioning the color of Henry's bed sheets and blankets. "It's nice."
He was quiet a while longer before he replied. "It's my favorite color." He admitted.
Abigail turned over onto her other side to face him, looking into his eyes as she smiled. "Really? Just dark purple or purple in general?"
"Mostly dark purple. But I like the lavender purple on you." He told her.
"I love that there is still so much more to learn about you." She reached a hand up to caress his cheek. "I wish I knew everything that you were thinking. Sometimes I can guess, but…most of the time all you do is surprise me. Night fishing…dark purple…soft music…bookworm…compassionate toward animals….What else don't I know about you?"
"There are many things that I am certain you will never want to know." He informed her.
"That's not true. I want to know everything. I want to know you as well as I know myself."
"Sometimes I think you live inside of a romantic novel, Abigail." Henry said before turning his head a bit to kiss the wrist of her hand that rested on his cheek.
"What makes you say that?" She asked him.
"The way that you talk."
"I am surprised that you don't talk like you are from a novel after seeing how many books that you read." She let out a soft giggle.
"Oh, really?" He couldn't help but chuckle a bit himself. "I suppose there are lots of things I would like to say that I don't."
"Yes, I have noticed." She told him. "That is alright. If it makes you uncomfortable then you don't need to say them."
"It's not about me." He said to her, subconsciously resting a hand on her hip. "It's about you and making sure that YOU are not uncomfortable."
"That is sweet, Henry. But if something you say ever makes me feel that way, then I will tell you. In the meantime, you do not have to be shy or hide the things you want to say from me." She informed him, her thumb still caressing his cheek. "Is there anything you want to say now?"
"Well, I-..." He began to speak, his face already turning a slight shade of pink as he was unsure of how she would react to his first thought as he watched her smile at him, but he decided to test drive it anyway and he continued. "...-never noticed how white your teeth are before." Abigail couldn't help but softly laugh after he answered her. "See? I-...I am bad at this. It was the first thing I could think of."
"No, no. That's good. It's good." She told him as she stopped herself from laughing more. "Keep going."
"I, um…just realized how cold your hands always are."
"Really? Are they too cold now?" She pulled her hand away from his cheek.
"No, no…" He took her hand and made her place it back up to his cheek. "It feels nice." He gently smiled at her. "I….was very impressed by you and the other widows when you cleared the mine…"
"Really? You were?" Abigail felt a wave of warmth run through her body as Henry said that.
"Yeah….You know I used to work in a mine. I could not have accomplished what you ladies did in that short amount of time." He admitted. "Almost gave me half a mind to hire you all afterward." He chuckled a bit. "Yes…I was impressed and….somewhat inspired by the love you all have for this town and your homes. I'd never felt that way about anything before and I'd never seen anyone so loyal and determined. It made me want that."
"Oh, Henry." The woman moved even closer to him and their noses almost touched. "You can have that…I'll show you."
His emotions grew stronger and urged him to kiss her. He obeyed them, lightly squeezing the mayor's hip as he kissed her slowly but passionately. She happily kissed him back, allowing her fingers to slide into his hair, massaging it and gently tugging at it. The way his tongue battled hers caused a weak whimper to escape her throat in the kiss and an ache grew between her legs that made her long for him to touch her there. It wasn't long before he did, his hand moving from her hip to slide up her dress and down into her undergarments.
He pleasured her with his hand for a while before gently pushing her to lay flat on her back. He moved on top of her and slid down between her legs, his head moving up under her dress after he had removed her underwear. Her legs voluntarily opened more for him and he began to pleasure her with his tongue.
A shaky moan came from the back of her throat and she lulled her head back onto the big pile of pillows behind her. Both of her hands moved down to rest in Henry's hair as her body unintentionally writhed at the pleasure he gave her. She moaned his name and tugged at the salt and pepper locks atop his head. "Tha-That feels-...so-so good." She tried to speak but only whispers came out and she hummed, trying her best not to be too loud. Not yet. But he was so good at that. It was difficult to be quiet.
Abigail lifted her head off the pillows to look down at him. She noticed his eyes had been on her the entire time, studying the way she reacted to him. She lifted her dress up even higher so she could watch his tongue move and the sight made her moan his name again.
It didn't take long before the woman came and she sat up, cupping Henry's face to kiss him before they began to pull each other's clothes off. Once naked, Abigail turned over onto her hands and knees, allowing him to make love to her from behind. She never understood why being with Henry always made her want to let him do whatever he wanted to her until that moment. It oddly felt so intimate and the passion with which he held her hips as he moved in and out of her sent chills up and down her spine.
She rested a hand flat up against the bed's headboard ahead of her, moaning every time he hit the right spot. His hands slid from her hips and up her ribs, around her to feel her bare breasts and stomach, then back up to her breasts again. He felt her nipples harden at his touch and he gave them a gentle pinch. Her body shook as she let out a small squeal as he did that and she turned her head as best as she could to look at him behind her.
Several cuss words ran through her head, but she did not dare to say them, Henry's name escaping her lips instead. "I love you!" She told him for the third or fourth time and he pulled out of her, making her turn back over onto her back.
The second she laid down again, she reached out to touch his member, moving her hand to pleasure him with it and he couldn't hold back anymore as he finished on her hand and her stomach. This time, he moaned her name and she smiled up at him.
"You are so handsome." She told him, sliding her hand up to his chest. "Sometimes, I sin and pleasure myself with my hand as I think of you." She confessed, feeling her own face turn red now.
Henry crawled over her, resting his face about an inch above Abigail's as he smirked at her. "And I think of you as I sin." He admitted before kissing her with a hum.
Abigail whined into the kiss, the ache to orgasm growing between her legs and her body shook at his torture. "I want to pleasure myself right now." She whispered against his lips.
"You won't have to." He whispered back to her as he gave himself another minute, kissing her again and making it more sensual than before as he felt his member start to grow again. Without breaking the kiss, he reached down between them to move his hand up and down on himself until he was fully grown again and he pushed back into her.
Her right hand moved up into his hair as her left hand held his back, unintentionally digging her nails into it. He moved slowly but pushed all the way into her, causing her to let out louder, higher-pitched moans whenever he did. Sometimes, he would stop inside her to feel the way her walls would clench around him and he would softly moan against her neck.
Looking up at the ceiling, Abigail couldn't believe how well they had done not to have sex all week considering every time she saw him, it was all she could think about, but she had great self control. Well, she liked to think that she did. But tonight was different. It was their last night together for, God knows, how long. And she wanted to leave on good terms this time. The last few times they had said goodbye, they both were left unhappy and she wanted this time to be different. She wanted to make love to him before she left and so, she was. And it felt amazing.
