Abigail gave a rueful laugh at the thought of it.
“You’re considering it, aren’t you?” Hattie said, a mischievous smirk playing at her lips. “I always knew there was a cold heart beneath that sweet smile and interminable patience.”
Abigail laughed outright at that. “Oh yes, my heart is quite frozen through.”
Hattie fell over on the bed so she was resting on her elbows. “No. Sadly for you, you got all the warmhearted kindness in this family, but...” Her expression turned sympathetic. “I imagine you wish you had a cold heart.”
Abigail’s smile was small and sad. “I wish I had no heart at all.”
Hattie nodded, her expression far wiser than her years could warrant. “For what it’s worth, I believe you’ll regret leaving without some sort of satisfying conclusion.”
“Conclusion?” Abigail arched a brow. “From what book did you get this idea?”
Hattie grinned. “Everyone knows that a wounded heroine needs to find some sort of ending. A way to move on.”
Abigail nodded. She supposed her sister was right. “I do need to see him at some point.”
“You do?”
Abigail shrugged. “I was going to ask if you’d go for me, but—”
Hattie sat upright quickly. “To say goodbye?”
“No, I mean to get the toys he’s made so I can gift them to the children tomorrow morning as I say my farewells.”
“Ah,” Hattie said. “So this is not a personal visit, then. Just an errand.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes. “Are you mocking me in my time of grief?”
Hattie laughed softly. “Never, dear sister. But I do wish you would just admit that you want to see him again. That it’s not over.”
It’s not over. That phrase brought an exquisite sort of pain. It was what she wanted to hear, what she desperately wished to be true—and what she knew without a doubt was not.
It was over. Caleb had made himself very clear.
She paused in the act of tidying her vanity. But perhaps Hattie had a valid point, as well. He’d made himself clear, but there were things she hadn’t said. Unspoken words that had been haunting her all week. Would it do any good to say them now?
Probably not. It likely wouldn’t change anything. But then again, maybe if she said them aloud, if she said all she’d wished she’d said the other night...maybe then she could go to London with her aunt and be able to smile without feeling as though she might burst into tears.
“You’re right,” she said suddenly, slamming down a handful of pins with more force than necessary. “Perhaps I will go speak with him.”
Hattie herded her down the stairs and toward the door, throwing her cape over her shoulders and all but pushing her down the steps.
“No need to be quite so forceful, dear,” Abigail murmured as she stumbled along.
Hattie’s look was pure impatience. “No offense, Abigail, but I’ve been waiting all week for you to stop pretending that everything is fine. Your time is running out and if there is any chance at all for you two to sort things out, one of you must be brave.”
With that, she gave Abigail a shove. “When did you get so bossy?” Abigail asked, only half teasingly as she made her way down the steps.
“With four older sisters, I’ve had plenty of examples to learn from,” Hattie teased. “Now go. Be brave. One of you must.”
“Be brave.” Abigail muttered the words over and over as she trod through the thin layer of snow that dusted the hillside. “Be brave.”
Her sweet, optimistic, head-in-the-clouds sister clearly misunderstood the situation. A hopeless romantic, it made sense that Hattie would wish to see a love story where there wasn’t one.
Abigail straightened her shoulders. But she was not so young and not nearly so romantic.
If Caleb said he didn’t wish to be with her, she had to believe him. She had her pride, after all. And even if her heart had gotten confused over the past few weeks, even if it had construed his kindness and his kiss and his heated gaze to be filled with something more than just friendship, she knew now that she was wrong.
But she did still have things to say. And he was going to listen.
Her heart was pounding fiercely by the time she reached his cabin. And she did have reason to be here, she reminded herself. These were her toys, which she’d basically paid for with reading lessons. So, she had every right to them.
Lifting her chin, she rapped on his front door just as someone threw it open.
“Oh!” She let out a startled cry as Mr. Laslow came bounding out.
“Ah, Abigail, I heard you’ll be leaving us for a while.”
Her heart rate was bordering on frantic. Nerves were nearly her undoing. How was she supposed to make idle chitchat at a time like this? She managed. Somehow. At least, she was fairly certain she was holding up her end of this small-talk about the weather, her upcoming trip, the health of her father...
“Were you here to see Mr. Calhoun?” he asked.
And that was when it hit her like a punch in the stomach. Mr. Laslow was here, which meant that Caleb was not. The air rushed out of her lungs and she felt as though her entire world had deflated.
He’d left. He’d cleared out and gone without even a goodbye.
Her ears seemed to be ringing. Her head was surely spinning. And her world was upside down as she stared at the still-smiling Mr. Laslow. In some distant part of her brain, she had the most horrible realization.
It wasn’t just Hattie who was the incurable romantic. It seemed that despite all her lectures to herself, all her steadfast refusals to ponder the possibility—she’d been holding out hope, after all.
She’d thought her heart had been broken before, but this was something else entirely.
This was far worse.
“Are you all right, Miss Abigail?”
It was only then that she realized her smile was fading fast. That she’d gone from pleasant to gaping in a heartbeat. “Oh, er...”
