Chapter 41
Four weeks later
Flora’s family table was set with a starch-pressed gingham tablecloth and a tall white vase holding carefully arranged wildflowers.
Seated across the bench from her, I wasn’t surprised in the least bit that every inch of this kitchen was scrubbed, polished, and symmetrically organized.
Perhaps if Manwaring Manor had had an ounce of beauty, the kitchen would’ve looked like this all along.
The thought brought a bittersweet smile to my face.
For all her faults, this was Flora in her prime and I couldn’t help hoping that her newfound freedom would bring her happiness. Judging by the pained frown on her face, though, she wasn’t keen on embracing that reality yet.
“I can’t believe it’s all gone,” she said. “Everything our husband built destroyed.”
I spoke softly, unsure if I was trying to comfort or reason with her. “The house was wretched, Flora. We both know that.”
“And what matters most was saved,” Prudence added. “You and all the children are safe.”
Flora’s fingers pressed harder into the table. “But our husband perished in a fire! Abby too.” Her voice cracked with a rare glimpse of emotion.
Though part of me wanted to confess, I knew I could never tell Flora the full truth.
I sensed that she truly did care for all of us, perhaps even more than she did for Jacob.
She’d been harsh and demanding, but in her strange way she worried and worked for us.
Her true love was for the family she’d helped build, not her husband.
I knew that she had her own scars she refused to acknowledge out loud.
But when confronted with the jarring truth, she’d cleave to her fears and innate beliefs.
No matter how justified, Flora would never accept Jacob’s murder as right.
My heart splintered anew remembering the knife poised against Jacob’s throat and the sea of blood seeping into the floor. My weight holding down his fading body. At night, I sometimes cried out from the nightmare of it, crawling into Elijah’s arms as he slept beside me.
I kept my expression calm so as not to betray the truth behind the lies; ones even Prudence knew only in part.
“We won’t have all the answers in this life, but they are both at rest now,” Prudence said.
Flora sighed. “Where are her children?”
“They’ve been placed in loving homes.”
Silence sunk around us, heavy and warm. How strange to be having such a conversation, to watch Flora struggle to hold back her obvious sentiments. My chest tightened with more sadness for what could’ve been if only life were different.
Outside the open window, children’s laughter carried across the yard. Elijah had organized the children into a game of tag to give us space to converse freely. Gratitude for his unending kindness swept through me.
“I will find the funds to give them both a proper gravestone,” I said, breaking up the quiet. “But I won’t bury Abigail beside him. I know that’s what she would’ve wanted.” It was only partially a lie.
Even though Abigail still lived, leaving the Territory with her children in secret right after the fire, I would make sure it was done properly to cover her tracks. Most importantly, the stone would read Abigail, the true name she called herself.
Flora pushed her glasses up her nose. “I suppose I won’t bother telling you that I don’t agree.”
“No, and you don’t have to agree. I know Jacob was the father of your children and that he provided for you for years.” Hurt rolled through me and I allowed it to spread and settle in my bones. “But not all of us cherish his memory.”
Every possible piece of joy from that short life had turned to ash in the fire and I wanted nothing more than to leave Jacob, Elder Crowther, and all the men who led me to Manwaring Manor in the rubble. From now on, I would control my own life, my own choices, by virtue of my own authority.
Like Prudence sensed my thoughts, she cleared her throat. “What are you going to do now, Hazel?”
At last, I smiled. “Elijah and I will be heading to California tomorrow.”
Flora shook her head in the same disapproving movement I’d come to know so well, but it didn’t ignite shame within me. “It’s disgraceful to marry another only weeks after your husband perishes.”
I shrugged as I picked up my long-forgotten glass of lemonade. “Then it’s a good thing my marriage to Jacob was never real in the eyes of the law.”
“Man’s laws,” she chided. “Remember, God will judge.”
“And I suspect He’ll understand me perfectly.
” I stared at her over the rim of my cup, unmoved.
I could see the agitation in her eyes that I didn’t squirm beneath her accusations.
I knew that Flora only acted and said as she did because of her own deep convictions, but they still were not my own anymore.
Part of me mourned for her remaining lot in life, though such a sentiment would truly shock her if I admitted it.
“Well, I think it’s marvelous,” Prudence said. “How long must we stay in black before we get back to our lives? The world won’t wait for us.”
“I suppose it won’t,” she said reluctantly. “Prudence, when does your train leave for the East?”
“Tomorrow,” Prudence replied. “I’m so nervous.”
I clasped her hand. “You’ll do wonderfully. You’ll be brilliant in school and become the best midwife in the entire country.”
She laughed. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“But you will, Sister Prudence,” said Flora in a matter-of-fact tone.
Now we shared a surprised look.
I reached across the table and placed my hand on Flora’s. She glanced up at me, paralyzed with discomfort, but she didn’t remove from my touch. “I know your life will be hard after this, and I will pray for you.”
“We both will.” Prudence joined her hand to ours.
“I’ve no doubt your industry and dedication will give you strength,” I said. “But you could come with us, you know.”
She scoffed. “To San Francisco and abandon Zion?”
“Or the East. Midwives are an important commodity,” said Prudence.
“There’s a whole other world out there, Sister.” My chest thrummed with the possibility.
Flora slid her hand out from ours. “I’m glad for you two, I truly am. I know you’ll find a place for yourself.” Her eyes met mine. “But I’m not like that. I need Zion and the church. This is my home and all I’ve ever worked for. I couldn’t start again and I couldn’t abandon my God.”
“I understand.” And I meant it. We each had to take our own paths.
“Besides.” She sat up and lifted her chin. “California is a den of iniquity.”
“Right, Sister Flora.”
The kitchen door cracked open and Elijah poked his head through the opening. He gave us a tentative look that made him look so boyishly handsome I had to fight the urge to stand and kiss him on the spot.
“You about ready to go? Sun’s starting to fade and we’ve got to ride back to make our final preparations.”
I nodded. “Yes, I’ll meet you outside.”
I stood, my legs trembling beneath my skirts. There was a finality in every step, in every breath of air. “Thank you, Flora, for everything. I will write you; I promise.”
Prudence replaced her hat as she stood. “I will as well.”
“Very well.” Her shoulders dropped some. “I would like that.”
I stopped toe-to-toe with her and tilted my head back to memorize her face one final time.
Before she could protest, I threw my arms around her neck and tugged her tight against me.
Slowly, her arms wrapped around my back.
My pulse beat faster knowing well what I would lose and what I could gain over the next few weeks, months, years.
Elijah and I slipped back out the kitchen door to our waiting cart.
At first, the ride was silent. Unspoken conversations carried back and forth—worries, fears, joys, sadness—an entire universe contained between us.
But threading through it all was hope. As we drove down the road to Salt Lake for probably the last time, it didn’t feel like a goodbye, but a yawning opening to possibility and future.
To find a place prepared for us, far away in the West.
Elijah prodded me with his elbow as he held the reins. “Do you think Sister Flora will ever realize Abigail’s grave is fake and that she’s alive?”
I laughed. “I doubt it. I don’t think she’ll ever find herself in Oregon, where she might run into Abigail and her children.”
Elijah’s hand found mine.
“And we’re about to leave ourselves for San Francisco. Are you ready for this, Hazel?”
My lips pressed together as I searched through my own body.
My heart ticked quickly, anxiety rolled through my pulse.
There was no denying I’d struggle possibly forever with my panics, but I realized now that fearing them and filling myself with shame would never bring me peace.
I needed to embrace them as part of me, as part of my unique soul.
“I’m worried,” I confessed, tugging us closer. “But I’m also excited. This will be our first big adventure.”
He smiled at me as I glanced up at him. “Indeed, my dear. The first of many.”
I shifted back to Elijah, leaning on his arm. He placed a kiss on the top of my head. All, at last, was truly well.