Things were quiet in an unsettling sort of way.  Elijah had seen this kind of quiet before, the calm before storms, before worlds fell apart.  He wasn’t in the mind to recall those times, his head solidly focused on Abigail and the child.  He found he was oddly excited, not being a man who allowed himself degrees of any emotion, as a rule.  He felt life was best led in balance.  But, he decided to enjoy the experience, dealing with whatever the outcome.

When Elijah made the bend, he saw Abigail in her garden surrounded by roses of every color.  Her blonde hair was worn loose and parted down the center, the front strands tucked behind her ears away from her pale face, translucent as moonlight.  His heart rose up and pressed against his breastbone watching her, his breathing quick.  She easily took his breath away.  He couldn’t recall feeling anything quite like it. 

Abigail saw him coming, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight.  Her white dressing gown floated and billowed in the breeze.  The sight was more than Elijah could bear, looking as though she belonged in holier worlds.  He had to look away.  It was late afternoon, finding it odd she was dressed in nighttime attire. He worried he was intruding on a private moment.

Elijah unhorsed and tied the gelding at the fence.  He pushed opened the gate, feeling Abigail’s gaze on him when he started up the stone walk toward her.  She hadn’t moved, standing there like a picture in the long shadows of late afternoon.  The soft light was lush across her face.  It was all unbearably romantic, which was a foolish notion for a man like him to have.  He didn’t dwell on his appearance, but he was aware he possessed a measure of good looks, bolstering him a little as he approached her.

Abigail still hadn’t moved, her hands holding newly cut roses.  She lowered her head to breathe in their scent before she looked back up at him.  They stood quietly for a moment and then she walked toward the house and climbed the porch steps.  Elijah followed her wordlessly.

When they entered the house, Elijah stared at her and saw how pale she was, but then colored a bit as he watched her.  She dropped her eyes down to the roses she still held in her hands.  She walked to the sofa and sat down with effort under the weight of her swollen belly.  Elijah smiled.  He was content to just look at her.  There were times in a man’s life that had to be watched closely so those moments could be remembered over and over in the mind’s eye.  He would remember years later the scent of roses, the evening light in the room, the white gown settling like snow over her abdomen, and the way her eyes held such joy.  His stomach tightened at the thought of the baby soon to be born and before she could say a word, he knelt down in front of her and asked her to marry him, if she would have him. 

He took her hand, the roses placed down on the sofa cushion beside her.  She started to cry.  Elijah waited, her tears finally stopping.  Dread flowered through him, his words bottlenecking in his throat.

Abigail looked at him.  She quietly said, “Will you dance with me, Elijah Winfield?”

He was stunned by the request, but then rose and told her he would. 

She smiled, her mouth only lifting a little at the edges.  He took her hand and helped her up from the sofa. He turned to face her and held her at the waist.  They danced to her soft humming, and then when the spirit of the dance rose in her, she sang.  She started to cry and Elijah held her close to him, and gently rubbed his hand over her back. 

He realized his life would change soon whether she chose to marry him or not.  He wasn’t sure if he could go back to his old life feeling like a different man.  A breeze picked up and the heady scent of lilac came through the open windows, filling the room and making him dizzy.  He held her tighter to keep his balance.  He spoke into her hair.  “Don’t cry, Abigail.  I don’t want ya t’fret.  It’ll be alright.”

She pushed away from him and looked him in the eye.  She turned from him and walked back to the sofa, her face wet with tears, her eyes downcast.  When she sat down, settling herself, she looked at him, but didn’t speak.  Elijah shifted his feet under her intense stare.  He waited.  Suddenly she gasped and laid her hand on her stomach.  She smiled and waved Elijah over to her.  He knelt down and she took his hand and placed his palm on her belly.  She smiled when she saw the light of recognition in his eyes. 

Elijah felt the steady movement of life beneath his hand and his heart lifted.  He looked into her eyes while keeping his hand on the tight skin of her abdomen without embarrassment.  Their eyes held each other and she said, “The baby is yours.”

Again Elijah’s heart rose and he nearly whooped out loudly with joy.  He reached for her and buried his face into the swell of her belly and wept.

                                   ***

The house was dark save for an oil lamp in the bedroom lit hours ago.  It cast a white square of light through the open door into the hall.  Elijah was stretched out on the bed in a sound sleep.  Abigail, alongside him, turned herself to watch him in the lamplight.  The sheet covering him hid the ribbon of a scar running rawly across his abdomen to his hip.  Before they were together, she’d passed her finger over it from left to right, laying her hand there for a time, her palm pressed over it.  While her eyes were shut, Elijah had pulled her hand away, startling her.  When she’d opened her eyes to look at him, he’d kissed her full on the mouth and had laughed at the stunned look on her face.  Because he was afraid he would hurt her, she’d led his hands and his body until he was sure of things.  She’d laid over him, the baby inside her resting against the flat of his stomach and she had smiled at his pleasure.

Afterward she’d rested on her side next to him, marveling at his beauty for more than an hour.  Ultimately, she hadn’t been able to keep herself from tracing her finger lightly down his forehead’s center or over the long, straight length of his nose.  Elijah had shuddered, awakened by her touch, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.  He’d smiled up at her when her face had come into his view.  Few words had passed between them, both accepting this as the true nature of their relationship. 

Abigail was sharply aware of Elijah’s insecurity over his lack of schooling. She was well-versed in many subjects, and had a room housing more books than Elijah probably ever thought to see in his lifetime. He had told her of his desire not of passion, but of need. A need for his child to have a life better than he’d known.

Abigail brushed at his dark brown hair and watched it ripple back in place. He placed his ear unabashedly against her belly, listening, his eyes closed. The hours spent together seemed to be a fatalistic dream come to fruition.  As she laid beside him, her heart already ached for the loss of him.

“I can’t marry you.”

It was only whispered, but she could tell Elijah heard her words when he lifted his eyes to hers and she saw the hurt in them.  She hurried to explain herself.  “I won’t make you happy.”

“That ain’t so.”  Elijah raised himself up on his arm to see her better. 

“It’s the baby that makes you happy, Elijah. Not me. It may never be me.”

He lowered his head.  “Give me a chance, Abigail.”

Her words came out choked, a sob.  “My God, Elijah!  You don’t know how easy it would be – but I can’t do that to you.”

“There ain’t no way in hell my child won’t have my name.”

“The child will, Elijah.  Without any guilt or beholding to me.”

Elijah raised his eyes and looked at her closely, surprised by what she had said.  “Guilt? There ain’t no need for ya to be weighed down by guilt.  I’m a grown man n’ I chose to be with ya that night like I choose t’be with ya right now.”

“I thank you for that.”  She smiled and cupped her palm against his face and kissed him on the mouth.  “Will you dance with me, Elijah Winfield?”

He was silent for a time, and then he nodded his head he would.  He rose from the bed and stood next to her.  He offered his hand and she took hold of his sturdy fingers.  She smiled.  The sight of him in the lamplight, unclothed, untamed nearly broke her heart.

They danced together while she hummed and sang when she knew the words.  Elijah would join in, too, when the song was familiar to him.  They danced for hours and when they were too tired and too sad to dance any longer, they dressed side by side in silence.  After they finished dressing, Elijah held her and gave her a kiss in the centered part of her hair.  They walked to the door holding hands and then they kissed good-bye.  While doing all this, they were unaware they were being watched.