Donna's eyes went wide. "Oh, my goodness. Yes. Where did you get that?"
"Your mother gave it to me the day before she passed. I didn't realize it had such a history. I suppose it should go to you then, or one of your children," Abigail said looking down at the piece of art she held in her hand.
"Not at all. She gave it to you. Oh, Abigail, she thought the world of you. To think you share her space where she loved to come and create. I simply can't believe she didn't tell you about that."
Abigail couldn't believe it either. Was there more than their shared gift that had brought them together?
Donna moved on to talk to other family members, and others moved in to thank her and Clare for inviting them in to celebrate Mrs. Winters' life.
* * *
At the end of the night, Abigail laid in bed clutching the handkerchief to her chest. What did it all mean, she wondered, as Carson lay beside her snoring softly. What purpose was there for her to walk in Mrs. Winters' footsteps?
Chapter 35
They had both decided to take off the Friday after Mrs. Winters' funeral. A few days to collect themselves was needed.
Abigail left the clean up of the store to Clare, as she was asked to do, and decided to give her own house a thorough cleaning.
Carson had opted to work in his own house for a few hours, but promised he'd be back to sleep in her arms.
Abigail kept the handkerchief she'd been given in the front pocket of her jeans. There was some odd comfort in having it with her.
When she'd gone to bed the night before, she'd tried to summons Mrs. Winters to her dreams, but she hadn't come. There were just too many unanswered questions. If she could just have one more conversation with her, maybe she could put to rest the uncertainties she was feeling.
Abigail cleaned the house from top to bottom, never once turning on the TV or radio for noise. Solitude was what she'd needed to lift her spirits. Carson, however, wasn't as lifted when he returned.
Along with a huge knot on the side of his head where a board had fallen, his attitude was sour.
He kicked off his dusty shoes next to the door, where she'd mopped, threw his jacket on the fluffed and vacuumed sofa, and he rattled the entire kitchen when he yanked open the refrigerator door to pull out a beer. After he tossed the cap to the beer on the wiped down counter, he chugged back the beer until he'd nearly downed half of it.
"In a mood?" Abigail asked after having witnessed his entrance.
"You could say that," he said slamming the door to the refrigerator.
"Anything I can do to help you through it before it sours my mood too."
When he lifted his eyes to hers, they seemed apologetic, but the words never surfaced.
"Katie Meadows."
She felt her spine straighten and her jaw clench. "You're bringing her up just to piss me off?"
"Nope. I'm bringing her up because she is Ellie Winters' great niece."
Abigail sat down in the nearest chair because her knees had gone weak. "How did you find that out?"
"Donna called me before I came here. The world is a small place," he said taking another pull from his beer. "Donna mentioned your tea shop to another relative who was from Missouri. Enough talking and enough plugging your name into Google, and voila!" He ran his hand over his face and let out a breath.
"I didn't kill Katie Meadows," she said sternly and was surprised when his eyes moved to meet hers, and she saw the disappointment in them.
"Do you think that's why I'm upset about this? You think I still think you killed her?"
Abigail gathered her thoughts. "No. I sincerely think you know better. But I can't read this situation."
Carson set his beer on the table, took Abigail's hand, and pulled her to her feet. "Somehow I think Mrs. Winters used you to find Katie. You said you saw her in your dream in the river."
"Right."
"Just like I think she brought you here, sent you to that building to put your tea shop in, and she brought us together."
"Why me?"
"Why not you?" He ran his hand over her hair. "Donna also said that Mrs. Winters found a young boy once who had been lost. He didn't die, but he was close. People thought Mrs. Winters was some kind of freak of nature for years. But when her gift led her to her husband, she fell in love in a moment, because she knew he was the right one."
"So why are you so upset?" Abigail asked, raising her hands to Carson's chest.
"Because I think you are here to follow her path, and I think we're messing it up."
"I don't understand."
Carson took her hand again and led her to the living room. They sat down on the sofa, their hands still in one another's.
"Mrs. Winters met her husband and married him right away. They lived long and happy lives with their four children. Two sons and two daughters."
Abigail's heart began to race. "You think there is some legacy I'm upholding? I'm not related to her."
"No, but you’re cut from the same cloth, if you will. Maybe because of your gift you're connected—like family."
"What does that have to do with me and you then? You're not related to her. I'm not related to her. How did this come to be?"
"I don't know. Maybe you were destined for Jeffery, and I got in the way."
Abigail searched his eyes to see if he believed that. "Really?"
Finally, his shoulders dropped, and he smiled. "No. Maybe she just knew you were a good person and she wanted the very best for me."
Abigail moved in and rested her head on his shoulder, and he held on to her tightly.
"But it did make me decide to do something I've been waiting for."
She sat back and looked into his kind and loving eyes. "What's that?"
Carson stood and pulled his jacket from the back of the sofa. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box.
"I've had this in my desk drawer for the past week. The only person I've shown it to is my mother." Carson flipped the box open and revealed the diamond he'd bought for her.
"Carson," her voice shook, and tears pooled in her eyes. "What are you doing?"
He slid off the sofa, and onto one knee. "I'm asking you to marry me. Let's start our own future. I know it's only been just over a month since we happened into each other's lives, but I can't think of any reason not to stay in each other's lives. I love you, Abi. Will you be my wife?"
Abigail slid to the floor next to him. She held out her hand, and he slid the ring on her finger. "I'm scared to death."
Carson let out a chuckle. "Me too. To be honest, until the day I met you, I didn't think I'd ever do this."
"I didn't think anyone would accept me enough to do it either."
"Well, we were both wrong. Abigail, will you marry me?"
She looked down at her finger and back up at his misted eyes. How could she possibly love someone as much as she loved him?
"I would be honored to be your wife."
Carson pulled her to him, and they held each other, on their knees on the living room floor.
"I'm going to make a million mistakes," he promised.
"And if only I could read you, I'd know they were coming."
They both laughed as they held each other, anticipating what was to come for them.
Chapter 36
Being engaged seemed to be the perfect magic to getting things done. Carson had moved all of his essentials into Abigail's house. They'd discussed it at length. They would finish Carson's house and rent it. When the time came that Abigail's house became too small, they'd rent it too and buy something bigger.
It wasn't until Carson had gone to lunch with Glenn that he knew exactly where they would live when they got married.
After work on a snowy evening before Thanksgiving, Carson took his bride-to-be to dinner. She and his mother had been busy with wedding planning, and she led the conversation. If she quizzed him, he was dead meat because he hadn't heard a word she'd said. His mind was preoccupied with his conversation with Glenn
.
After dinner, as Abigail was still talking about wedding venues and colors, he started toward Genesee—then she began to pay attention.
"Where are you going?" she asked as she looked out the window.
"I want to show you something."
"You're heading to Mrs. Winters' house, aren't you?"
Carson chuckled and reached for her hand. "I can't pull anything over on you, can I?"
"More than most people. Why are you going to her house?"
"Glenn said it's finished, remodeled, and looks fantastic. He gave me the key so I could check it out. Is this okay?" He hadn't thought about what she might see in the house that he couldn't see.
"I think that sounds wonderful. I can't wait to see what they've done."
Relieved, he relaxed a bit. "Glenn said it had more water damage than fire damage."
"I never did hear what caused the fire."
"A candle," he said, and he heard the sadness of it. "She'd forgotten it, and it nearly cost her her life. She seemed sharp till the end, but it was the little things like that which could have hurt her or someone else."
The porch lights shimmered as they pulled up. Though the damage had been primarily to the back of the house, no one would ever have known there had been a fire by driving up to the front, Carson thought as he parked the car in the driveway.
As he climbed out, so did Abigail. Hand in hand they walked to the front door. Carson slid in the key that Glenn had given him, and they walked into the house together.
The smell of fresh paint and wood filled his nose. It had become one of his more favorite scents.
Carson began to turn on lights in the now empty house.
Abigail gave his hand a squeeze. "It looks fantastic."
"They did a real nice job."
They walked to the kitchen, where the majority of the work had been done. It was a newly renovated kitchen with the newest appliances and a beautiful hardwood floor.
Abigail ran her hand over the countertops. "Clare would be envious of this kitchen."
"What about you? You don't like the kitchen?"
She glanced up at him. "It's a lovely kitchen."
"We have the key. We could cook something here," he offered and her brows drew inward.
"Why would I cook in someone else's house?"
He eased her into his arms. "Glenn offered me the house. It's the perfect size for four kids," he explained with a smile he could feel rising from his chest.
"Here? Us?"
He nodded. "Glenn thought it would be a good home for us if we wanted to buy it from the family. He let me have the key so we could feel it out. What do you think?"
"Oh, Carson, I don't know." She looked around hesitantly. "This is a lot to think about."
"We can rent out both of our houses and that will help cover the mortgage. Glenn is willing to cut us a fantastic deal."
* * *
Abigail stepped back from him and folded her arms around herself. She circled the kitchen and walked to the family room where she stood looking at the walls. Ellie Winters' family photos had once hung there. Her children had played on the floor and in the backyard.
She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Why couldn't she feel her in the house? She'd fully expected to.
Was that a sign that she'd passed over to be with Jeffery and her husband? Was she truly at peace?
Abigail was sure that if Mrs. Winters didn't agree with her son's offer, she'd let them know about it.
"Show me the rest of the house," she said and noticed the smile widen on Carson's mouth.
Carson took her through the house explaining all the rooms as he'd remembered them from when Jeffery had taken him through many times when they were younger. As an adult, he never went further than the kitchen or living room, but he had his own stories of the house as a child.
Abigail was relieved to find absolute calm when they stood in Mrs. Winters' bedroom. It was just a newly remodeled house, she realized, but one that came with happy memories for her fiancé.
"This is what you want to do? You want to live here?" she asked as she turned to Carson.
"I do. But only if you want to too. We're partners now."
Abigail looked around the room taking it all in. She then moved to Carson and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think this would be a lovely place to start our life together."
Carson planted a kiss on her that nearly buckled her knees. "That makes me happy," he said as he held her tightly.
"It makes me happy, too."
They'd managed folding tables and chairs into the house before both families converged on it for Thanksgiving. Carson's father had carried in a brand new television, a housewarming gift, he told them. With help from Abigail's father, they managed to get a football game to come through.
Abigail listened as her mother and Patricia sat at one of the card tables and made more wedding plans. It was all happening, and both of their families were involved.
After Abigail left Missouri, she wasn't sure she'd ever had a sense of family or community again. Thankfully she had it now. She could never have guessed that her move would change her life as much as it had.
Carson stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "They're all getting along."
"Did you expect them not to?"
He chuckled. "You hear horror stories. Perhaps we'll never have that. We won't have to slip from one dinner to attend the other. Neither of us will start a drinking habit before a holiday."
Abigail elbowed him in the gut as she laughed. "Imagine what those two will be like when they have a grandchild." She nodded in the direction of their mothers.
"They'll be two giddy old women."
"They're not old," she scolded.
"They will be in time, and they'll spoil our kids rotten."
"That's their job, right?"
He placed a kiss on her head. "I wouldn't want it any other way."
There was a pang of sadness that filled her as she watched their families. "I'm sorry that Mrs. Winters isn't here for all of this. It makes me sad that she won't see our wedding or meet our children."
Carson turned her to face him. "I guarantee that she and your grandmother are picking out our children." He narrowed his gaze at her. "You weren't a troublemaker were you?"
"Me? Are you kidding?"
"I had to ask. We will be fifty percent okay then."
"Why fifty?"
"I was a troublemaker," he said as he winked and she pressed her cheek to his chest. As sorry as she was that Mrs. Winters wasn't around, she was forever grateful that she'd intervened. Without her, Abigail was sure she would never be this happy.
Chapter 37
Thanksgiving quickly gave way to the Christmas season. Though Clare and Abigail had set up a few Christmas items before Thanksgiving, Abigail wanted to wait until the season was in full swing before completely decorating.
They spent the Sunday after Thanksgiving setting up Christmas trees and adorning the windows with greenery. She couldn't have imagined that her fiancé would whistle Christmas tunes the entire day, but he had.
Patricia had stopped by as well, hoping to lend a hand. Abigail was sure she had many more plans than she'd offered, but that was one sign she would be a gracious mother-in-law, she thought.
When Clare and Patricia had left, and the sun had tucked itself away, Abigail and Carson sat in the dark tea shop having a cup of peppermint tea and watching the lights twinkle around them.
"I can imagine Mrs. Winters' store here," she said as she looked around. "The walls lined with shelves with fabrics. Displays of beautifully adorned handkerchiefs, or personalized pillowcases."
"She's showed that to you?"
Abigail shook her head. "No. She hasn't appeared or visited in my sleep," she confirmed. "I have to assume she moved on to the other side and is content."
Carson reached his hand across the table and took hers. "And you still can't read me, huh?"
"Nop
e. I assume it's your stubborn streak," she joked as she gave his hand a squeeze.
"And not yours?"
She shrugged. "Maybe."
Carson turned in his seat to face her. "I was thinking, I know we're not getting married until February, but don't you think we should move into the house now?"
The very thought should have enticed her, she thought. She couldn't wait to move into the house. So, why couldn't she give him an answer?
They'd been living together since the beginning, she considered. They planned to live together for the rest of their lives. Why should waiting until February make it better?
She didn't have an answer for that. But something didn't sit right with it. All she could assume was that she was getting in her own way. She did that enough, she knew.
Besides, if they moved now, they could rent out her house. Perhaps, if they got tenants in soon enough, they could buy new furniture, new decorations, or even extend their honeymoon.
She smiled at her handsome fiancé. "I think you're right. I think it would be a good idea." Once she saw the smile cross his lips, she realized it had been the right decision. After all, she had been collecting an overabundance of Christmas decorations for her own house, which now she could put in her new house.
Suddenly the thought of moving into Mrs. Winters' house made her giddy with anticipation. Her grandmother used to love Christmas trees. She had one in nearly every room in her house. Abigail began to mentally count the rooms in the new house.
Carson chuckled. "What are you doing?"
"I was just thinking about how many Christmas trees I needed."
"How many? Don't you only need one Christmas tree? Who needs more than one Christmas tree?"
"I do," she said matter-of-factly. "I have a big, beautiful, new house. I want to decorate it until it sparkles. I want a Christmas tree in every room. I want people to see it from the highway it's so bright."
Carson stood and pulled her to her feet. He kept her hand in his and placed his other hand on her waist. He swayed as if he heard music in his mind, she thought.
The Tea Shop Page 16