The Write Place

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Chapter 9

Abigail sat alone, her shawl and winter clothes fitting her tightly.  Her gloves rested on her lap as she held a single piece of paper in her hands.  She alternated between her hands as she held the letter and wiped tears from her eyes.

Dearest Abigail,

It has been months, yet I know it feels like forever for us both.  The roads have snowed in.  The worst blizzard this town has ever seen settled upon us.  Food is fortunately not the issue for the time, but may become such.  I also have broken my leg in the storm in my first attempt to leave.  It is set but with this injury I cannot ride.  I believe you know about the war with the French and the Indians.  Things are rough here.  However, they are not impossible.  There is a garrison nearby who affords some protection.  I do not wish you to worry.  Considering the circumstances things are better here than for most, though it remains true that I cannot travel. 

Abigail dropped the letter held in both hands and cried.  The cold air nipped at her face making the sting of her sorrowful tears all the harsher.  The mood within his words was obvious.  The gray clouds hid the sun.  The fields were white with snow.  It was a dreary, cold, biting day.  Summoning strength she picked up the letter again from atop her protruding abdomen.

“God has done much in the time I have been here.  Sometimes I don’t feel it, others I do.  Some of the people here are reprobate, yet all come to church.  There still exists in them all a thirst for the things of God, a thirst I have seen grow in some of those furthest from him. I do not know of any conversions as yet.  I do know all come to hear of him.  I ask whether it will be worth it in the end.  Only time will tell what fruit this bears.  I suppose God wants me here for some reason.  I trust he will bring me back to you.  I dare not permit myself to think otherwise.  He has been good to me these many years.  Whatever comes I know he has his purposes in it as he did in the cross.  I sleep easier knowing he is over all things and knowing he is with you. Even as I am away”

Abigail set the letter down once again.  Wiping away stray tears she pulled out her handkerchief from her dress. 

“Oh, the things I want to tell you,” she said, lifting her head to look into the hills before her.  She wondered as to how far away he was.  However near or far, it felt like forever away.  “But I’m only talking to the wind,” she added in a resigned voice.

Suzanne and Rebeccah appeared, walking from out of the parsonage behind the church, dressed in wintry clothes with scarves of their own and carrying tea.  The two hurried with great energy quickly as they could, teapot and teacups in hand.  Suzanne sat to Abigail’s right, Rebeccah to the left.  Rebeccah handed Abigail a cup of tea, its heat steaming off into the crisp winter air.

“I told you not to read it alone,” said Suzanne with great concern.

“I had to,” said Abigail, taking a tea cup in her hand.  “I do not believe he received the letter I sent.  That is no surprise the way things are on the trails right now,” she said, taking a sip. Her shoulders hung low with the weight of her worry.

“So he has no idea about the baby,” stated Suzanne as she looked off into the distance with a look of resignation on her face.

“He will.  And he’ll be feeling all sorts of things, nice happy things when he gets back,” said Rebeccah, placing a hand on Abigail’s shoulder.

“If he gets back,” said Abigail, her hands wrapping around the tea for warmth.  The thought hung in her mind.  Deep resignation echoed from her voice.  Rebeccah felt herself holding Abigail as her body, whose body was sagging with the weight of here motions.  Her eyes watered as she held back the weight of her fears.

“I don’t want to give you false hope, but you don’t need to be so afraid.  We are here for you, he’s not alone.  Worrying never changed anything.  We’re here for you, just talk all you want.  You’ve got two pairs of ears to wear down if you want to use them,” Suzanne added, gripping her friend’s shoulders tightly to reassure her in the midst of her loneliness and sorrow.

“Well you’re right about that,” Abigail said amused.  She took a deep breath, sullen once more.  “Still, the danger is real.  Let me feel that much.  I must feel that much,” Abigail paused, her head turning to the skies deep in thought. “I feel the way I feel because I care about him.  I do not know what awaits him, or me.  I’m rather terrified of what awaits all three of us. He doesn’t even know there’s three of us,” Abigail said, crying softly.

“Sure,” said Suzanne.  “I know if William were gone, I’d be worried.  There come times when you need to cry,” Suzanne added with great empathy in her voice.

“Yes, of course,” said Rebeccah.  The two of them put their arms around Abigail, who took up the letter one last time.

“Neither of us are alone.  Our God is with us and there is nothing hidden from him.  Neither is there anything out of his hands.  I will see you again, this life or the next.  I love you Abigail.

With all my Love, David”

Abigail wept.